Top Ten Films – 2024

2024 was a quiet year in film, personally. It was more about looking to the past than the present, as I did some deep dives into Yasujirô Ozu, childhood favourites, and (for some reason) the Puppet Master films.

I didn’t go to the cinema as often as I intended, and, as such, missed out on seeing some of the year’s bigger films. That said, of those new releases I did manage to catch, there were many that I really enjoyed and several that I loved.

Below are my top ten films of the past year, a list that I enjoy drawing up at the end of each year. I’ve included my journal entries for each film to give a flavour of what they’re all about and why they stood out for me. These journals are a little rough around the edges, so excuse some of the less fully formed thoughts, but the core sentiment is there.

Linked here is my complete Letterboxd list for the year.

FYI – Minor spoilers for all of the films discussed.

10. In A Violent Nature, directed by Chris Nash

The trailer for In a Violent Nature grabbed me instantly, mostly due to the gorgeous imagery on display. I’m not as familiar with classic slashers as I’d like to be, but I’ve seen enough to be intrigued by the genre subversion that this film attempts.

The movie is surprisingly beautiful. The thick, filthy, rusty Ontario woodlands are as visually stunning as they are hot and sweaty. There’s an appreciation for the setting here that’s missing from the likes of a Friday the 13th (1980). The shot of our vengeful protagonist trudging through a field at sunrise is sublime, making for an iconic piece of horror imagery. It doesn’t hurt that I’m a sucker for a film shot in 4:3.

The script, which is intentionally cliché as far as the characters are concerned, is quite clever. It’s as if the screenplay was originally written as a typical slasher and then rewritten from the antagonist’s perspective. Johnny (Ry Barrett), our undead killer, often walks into the middle of scenes that would typically play out in full as part of a traditional woodland slasher. It’s as though the ‘movie’ version of events is taking place elsewhere. Huge credit to writer-director Chris Nash for the originality of the screenplay and its on-screen execution.

Speaking of executions, I must mention the film’s selection of brutal kills, all of which are presented in a blunt manner, are very creative, and lean heavily into the grotesque – the most memorable murder of the bunch is the delightfully stomach-churning yoga scene.

I enjoyed the unexpected direction taken for the film’s finale, despite some initial confusion as to where things were going. The climax is overtly subversive but in a way that works thematically and is still laden with tension. The film deftly touches on the implied trauma that one of Johnny's victims would carry into the rest of their lives in a way that few slashers have before.

Nash’s lethargically paced slasher is a breath of fresh air. Brutal, beautifully shot, and bold, it’s a refreshing take on the tried and testing ‘killer in the woods’ tale. I also adore Tracy Newman’s rendition of ‘Black Flies’, which is a perfect choice for the closing credits.

9. The Beast, directed by Bertrand Bonello

The Beast is a profoundly disturbing film. In short, AI in the future can neutralise feelings by tapping into your DNA to resolve trauma from past lives, a process that involves the subject living through the memory of these lives. In the cases of Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux) and Louis (George MacKay), they are destined to be ill-fated lovers, seemingly for all time.

The Parisian, early 20th-century narrative is by far and away my favourite, as it carries the greatest emotional weight, romanticism, and sense of yearning. The burning doll factory scene is the film’s most affecting, and I found its heart-wrenching conclusion to be utterly devastating. While the 2014 narrative is my least favourite of the three, it still presents an enthralling mystery of sorts. There’s an ominous shroud of terror pervading over most of the film, but it’s most prevalent in this middle section. The Gabrielle of 2014 is placed in a frankly terrifying predicament.

I love how subtle the future of 2044 is; little touches, like everyone casually wearing gas masks outdoors, are great for building out the world of the film. Although this portion of the narrative directly tackles AI, I found it more to be a study on over-medicating, self-neutering, and the impact of anti-depressants, but I am viewing things through a particular lens.

The ending sequence is Lynchian in its imagery and surrealist execution. The final twist is unspeakably horrible, a gut-wrenching, nightmarish revelation that’s tough to bear.

Who or what is the beast? In the film, it’s a creeping sense of anxiety, the overwhelming feeling that something is wrong and disaster is imminent. On a personal level, I suppose the beast will be different for everyone, but inevitably, it’s coming.

8. Challengers, directed by Luca Guadagnino

I’ve become a huge fan of Luca Guadagnino and his work in recent years, and it’s his involvement alone that interested me in Challengers. Once again, the director delivers an energetic and engaging feature, one that owes its success almost entirely to the stylistically inclined filmmaker.

In lesser hands, Challengers could have easily been a self-important snoozefest, but with Guadagnino at the helm, we’ve ended up with a lively and kinetic adaptation of a so-so narrative. It’s not just the tennis that’s exciting, it’s everything. Every off-court jostle between characters has the intensity of a thrilling rally. Arguments, courting, athletics, and sex all share the same high-octane energy and passion.

The tennis scenes, too, are also great, the character’s shared histories fuelling the high-stakes challengers match that forms the backbone of the narrative. The final game is presented in such a ludicrously over-the-top fashion and is tinged with such melodrama that it’s akin to a sports anime – in the best possible way.

Perhaps I’m getting hung up on the fact that Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor did the score, but there’s an element of The Social Network (2010) in how the film packages and presents its non-linear plot.

Sex, sport, betrayal, brotherhood, Challengers kinda has everything. A relentlessly entertaining film and one of the year’s most pleasant surprises.

7. La Chimera, directed by Alice Rohrwacher

La Chimera is like a dream. It’s a soft and sensual film, one that you can feel yourself being wrapped up in. Despite its rough-looking characters and rundown interiors, it has a gentleness that’s inviting and warm.

On the surface, the film is about Arthur (Josh O’Connor), a man with something of a talent for finding lost things. He and a band of rural town rogues find and loot tombs in Italy, selling their precious findings on the black market. For the grouchy and single-minded Arthur, this endeavour is about more than just money. He has an affinity for the ancient treasures they unearth and is determined to ensure they’re cared for. Why is he doing this? It’s certainly not for the poor money. What is it that he’s looking for? We learn that Arthur’s past lover, Beniamina, has passed on. Why, then, does he pursue and then detach from single mother Italia (Carol Duarte), with whom he forms a special connection?

Upon searching for the meaning of the word ‘Chimera’, I’ve found the following definition: “an illusion or fabrication of the mind, especially: an unrealisable dream.” It’s this last part that resonates the most in the case of La Chimera. None of the treasures that Arthur finds, no matter their beauty or worth, will satiate his true desires.

Shot on both 35mm and 16mm, the film is stunning in its visuals and profound in its narrative lyricism. Alice Rohrwacher is a filmmaker capable of crafting a thick cinematic atmosphere steeped in mysticism.

The ending is heartfelt and beautiful in ways that I’m yet to fully process, but I know that this is a truly special film.

6. The Substance, directed by Coraline Fargeat

The Substance was one of my most anticipated films of the year, purely for how polarising its reception was at Cannes. Now, having seen it, I can understand both the love and the hate, and am comfortable saying that I liked the film quite a bit.

I saw a tweet saying that the movie owed more to Brian Yuzna than David Cronenberg, and I couldn’t agree more. There are certainly moral and ethical questions concerning the use of the titular substance itself, but as the film goes on, the sense of heightened reality escalates to the point of all-out comedy. I might question the drastic tonal switch-up a little more if I didn’t find the final act so funny – it borders on farcical.

Much like The Neon Demon (2016), this is a film that explores the value and perceived importance of female beauty, albeit in a more extreme fashion. On the surface, the film is about fame and admiration, but just beneath, it’s about self-loathing, ageing, and the fear of not being enough. While the focus is clearly on women and their objectification, I think the messages about perceived beauty and natural deterioration are universal – we’ve all experienced feelings of inadequacy, and we’re all running out of time.

Demi Moore gives a powerhouse performance that only continues to grow in intensity, while Margaret Qualley has an almost ethereal presence. I’d be remiss not to also mention Dennis Quaid, who is as stupendously over the top as he is disgusting as generic, showbiz exec man.

Kudos to Coraline Fargeat, as The Substance is one of the most complete films I’ve seen over the past year, displaying a clear, singular, and uncompromised vision.

5. Queer, directed by Luca Guadagnino

Much like with Challengers, the main draw to Queer was Luca Guadagnino. Yet again, the Italian director doesn’t disappoint, as the film is one of my favourites of the year.

Daniel Craig plays Lee, a queer writer living in Mexico City in the 1950s who becomes infatuated by the young Eugene, played by Drew Starkey. They begin an informal, noncommittal sexual relationship, and while Eugene is willing, he never gets too close to Lee – it’s difficult for the writer to get a read on the young man and know exactly where he stands in his life.

Queer is about our innate urge for meaningful connection and acceptance. It’s also about the consequences of not having feelings requited and being unsure of how one feels about you. Lee cuts a tragic and somewhat pathetic figure, but his fundamental flaws and insecurities are uncomfortably recognisable, making him an engaging and sympathetic protagonist. It’s a delight to see Craig slip into the role so effortlessly.

The film is far more surreal than I anticipated, but I loved each and every unorthodox sequence, especially the mesmerising ayahuasca trip. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ score is as moody as it is fantastic, and the ‘Come As You Are’ needle drop is an all-timer.

The ending is tender and devastating in its own way, as the film proves to be about so much more than the search for love.

4. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, directed by George Miller

I’m obviously not alone in absolutely adoring Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), and I trusted George Miller wouldn’t return to that world unless he had a tale worth telling. While it was all but impossible for Furiosa to reach the staggering highs of its predecessor, it comes pretty damn close and is another wonderful entry in this now four-decade-old franchise.

Anya Taylor-Joy is unsurprisingly excellent as the titular Furiosa, taking the intensity of Charlize Theron’s 2015 performance and making the character her own. However, Chris Hemsworth absolutely steals the show as Dementus. He’s one of those magnificently charismatic villains who you can’t help but love watching despite their evil doings. The very personal feud between him and Furiosa makes for a fantastic epic of revenge, one that culminates in an immensely satisfying conclusion.

We all know that George Miller can do action, so it should go without saying that the road chases, firefights, and fisticuffs are all excellent in this film. That said, it’s the world-building and character work that I actually enjoyed the most. Many characters return from Fury Road to be further fleshed out, and it’s fun to explore the lore of the Mad Max universe, especially previously established settlements that are fully developed here. This is exactly what I want from follow-ups to action-adventure/sci-fi films: further exploration and expansion of the world in interesting ways.

The 150-minute runtime and chaptered story really justify the ‘saga’ aspect of the title, and yet the film doesn’t feel overly long in any aspect. Aside from the occasionally cartoonish visuals and the very odd end credits, everything worked for me. I feel as though we’re lucky to have gotten this film at all, and I'm only further impressed the more I think on it.

3. Dune: Part Two, directed by Denis Villeneuve

For some reason, I wasn’t quite in the mood for Dune: Part Two at the time of its release. However, I managed to catch the final local screening of the film and am extremely pleased that I did. It’s incredible.

Much like its predecessor, Dune: Part Two is another incredibly competent and sincere sci-fi blockbuster. While I agree with others that this film is essentially copious amounts of payoff to Dune: Part One (2021), there’s an awful lot in this entry that’s new. We’re given a lengthy and enthralling introduction to the Fremen and their culture, make a first visit to Giedi Prime, which is presented in stunning black and white, and meet the Emperor (Christopher Walken) and his daughter (Florence Pugh). The fact that all of these aspects of the world remain interesting and engaging is a testament to both the source material and the manner in which everything is presented.

While Villeneuve’s realisation of Frank Herbert’s world might not be the most extravagant or flamboyant, the director has an admirably singular vision as a sci-fi filmmaker. His films have a sense of scale that is contemporarily only rivalled by the works of Christopher Nolan.

Of all the great performances here, including a sensitive and understated Timotheé Chalamet, it’s Rebecca Ferguson who takes the cake for me. She completely flips her character from the first movie, delivering a cold, detached and, at times, chilling performance.

There are several perfectly executed, grand set pieces, most of which are accompanied by Hans Zimmer’s rousing score that punctuates the often-gargantuan onscreen images. The ending scene is as close to perfect as you can get, overwhelming in its sense of scale and narrative implication, and surprisingly emotionally affecting.

I feel that we’re only at the beginning of Dune: Part Two’s legacy and that it will stand as a landmark of sci-fi cinema. Villeneuve stuck the landing!

2. Perfect Days, directed by Wim Wenders

I’ve now watched two films from Wim Wenders, Perfect Days and the monumental Paris, Texas (1984). Based on these works, I’m now quite keen to check out the director’s other films, as he appears to be a filmmaker who speaks to me quite personally.

Watching Perfect Days provided the sort of meditative viewing experience that I’ve not had for quite some time. It’s a true slice-of-life film in every sense and also one that shows true appreciation for the simple act of living.

We follow Hirayama (Kōji Yakusho), a public toilet cleaner in Tokyo who leads a quiet life dominated by routine. He wakes early, tends to his plants, brushes his teeth, and enjoys a canned iced coffee whilst he drives to work, listening to his cherished music tapes.

Hiroyama works hard and takes pride in his job, every so often allowing himself a moment to take in the surrounding world. He observes the lives of the busy and the lonely alike, speaking only when there’s something to say and always trying to do the right thing. Life isn’t always plain sailing, and sometimes the world conspires to make Hiroyama angry or bring up old hurt. Nevertheless, he lives on, drinking in each day as if it was his last, and at night, dreaming of the sights that have moved him that day.

The Academy aspect ratio makes this already close examination of Hiroyama all the more intimate, and Kōji Yakusho breathes life into this muted character with an understated yet powerful performance. The soundtrack is marvellous, and the final scene is phenomenal.

Moving, life-affirming, and full of wonder, Perfect Days is a brilliant film.

1. The Zone of Interest, directed by Jonathan Glazer

As I’m sure it will be for many, The Zone of Interest is one of the most affecting films I’ve seen in a long time. It’s one of only a few movies that I’d describe as being truly haunting. Certain images have stuck in my mind in the months since I first watched the film.

The film plays out almost exclusively from the perspective of the Höss family, forcing you to observe the mundane goings on of their everyday lives. It’s easy to get swept up in the family dynamics and drama, almost to the point that you forget you’re watching a holocaust film. Rudolf (Christian Friedel) and Hedwig Höss (Sandra Hüller) have overcome adversity to build their dream family home and life together; it just so happens to be situated right next to Auschwitz, the camp over which Rudolf presides.

The Zone of Interest completely dehumanises the atrocities of the holocaust intentionally, almost entirely taking away the faces of the victims, except for a few choice scenes. While we hear screams and cries from beyond the camp walls, and gunshots echo throughout the Höss family garden, we never see the victims – they are reduced to no more than statistics, and it’s mightily effective.

It feels redundant to call the film a slow burn, as showing the banality of evil is part of the point. I feel that the final scene is pivotal, elevating the film to masterpiece status. I use that term hesitantly, but I’ve had a while to sit with the work and feel it’s deserving of such a title.

The visual of Rudolf Höss retching at his own monstrosity before literally descending into darkness is extremely powerful. The commandant takes a moment to look towards us, his stare piercing through the screen, past our judging gaze, and into the future, directly at the legacy of his work. He’s met with the image of Auschwitz’s new tenants – cleaners, who, in an eerie comparison to Höss, are busily engaged in their mundane, daily tasks, seemingly desensitised to the scale of tragedy surrounding them. Höss sees all this, his vile legacy and the scale of Nazi atrocity, before donning his cap and marching on to his next tide of terror.

Glazer’s latest work is brilliant, perhaps generational. It will only look finer with age but is already depressingly prevalent.