Favorite: Kinds of Kindness

Presenting: my Letterboxd review from the day I saw this! Nothing like the rush of walking out of a movie that just blew you away. I keep resisting the urge to tweak these sentences as I reread them. 

Sweet dreams are made of this!

And boy, is this not for everyone!

But I was hoping for something strange. Poor Things is weird for people who typically go for Hallmark over Haneke—they might blush when they talk to their friends about it, they’re a little surprised Emma Stone would take that sort of role, and they might think it an impactful, feminist odyssey. 

So I didn’t love Poor Things. I thought it was just fine and a little long. The Favourite, however, and The Killing of a Sacred Deer are very much my shit. I also enjoyed Dogtooth, and I was hoping very much for a return to form for Yorgos with this one. Flat delivery, unreal reality, you name it, and I was joyously granted it. El Greco takes us into three distinct enough dreamworlds, populated by a rock solid cast that includes an endlessly fantastic Jesse Plemons, who really shines. What kinds of kindness are you?

More than just the cast connects these stories. There’s tested love and devotion, dreams of what is to come, bodily harm, and weird sex stuff. There’s laughs to be had too, whether it’s a comically-intended line or something that’s just absurd enough to plaster a grin on your face. Our main characters live in tightly contrived realities, constrained by the rules of the odd reality they inhabit and tossed asunder when they begin to unravel.

In the first vignette, Jesse Plemons throws his life off kilter nearly immediately. Even though he’s thus done everything asked of him by Willem Dafoe, he can’t go through with what might be the most important order of all, and his wife disappears, he loses his job and routine, and the laundry piles up around his house (that he mercifully gets to keep). In the second, a man who wants his wife back more than anything in the world gets her back, but she’s not quite right, and things aren’t what they once were. In the third, Emma Stone has ditched her husband and child for some water cult and the search for a prospective healing priestess. This is a totally desperate trio, driven mad by love and desire.

Throughout these stories, common neuroses sidle in and spin out. Precarious marriages. Pregnancy and children. Weight gain and weight loss. A blip of something recognizable in what really only seems like a totally different story.

I should have prefaced this with the fact that I had a dream last night. I don’t need to say that it was kinda a weird dream, right? All dreams are kinda weird. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a little off-putting, but it was full of familiar faces and my usual stresses. All id versus superego, all night.

Most Hated: Joker: Folie à Deux

This superlative was a bit difficult to assign. I’m not sure I truly hated any movie this year. Honestly, In a Violent Nature’s big swing was a complete miss for me, and though I found it difficult to sit through, I have to appreciate a big swing and an artsy take on a genre movie. I  dislike slasher movies and this one incorporated a slow cinema element, so that was rough.

Folie à Deux, though. Such squandered potential with Ms. Germanotta and Joaquin Phoenix fully committing to these achingly dull roles. I’m SO SICK of the Joker and Harley Quinn, but I actually thought the premise of this movie might work. Two lunatics bursting into song and disrupting a dreary court drama and a gray asylum with highly stylized musical numbers could’ve made this the most interesting comic book movie of the past decade. Instead, Todd Phillips is way too far up his own ass and takes his original Joker so seriously, it utterly burdens this sequel. Arthur Fleck is a stupid character. Abused and tragic, sure, but he isn’t the martyr this movie wants him to be. No self-awareness. Waste of money. Todd Phillips hack uncontested.

Biggest Disappointment: Anora

I won’t really get too into this because I already wrote a blog about Anora. To rehash just a bit: Tangerine is one of my favorite movies ever, and I also believe The Florida Project and Red Rocket are excellent, so when Sean Baker emerged from Cannes with the Palme d’Or in hand, I was very excited. Needless to say, I was let down. It just felt like such a regression for him.

Lived Up to the Hype: Conclave

This is such a solid movie from start to finish. I feel so bad for people who have this one spoiled for them because the twist is so excellent. It’s just a tight political thriller with a great core cast. It didn’t move me emotionally—nor do I think it has anything particularly novel or difficult to say about the state of the Catholic Church—but it has clearly defined characters and a compelling enough premise. I thought it looked good, too, with some interesting shots (again, nothing innovative, but still thoughtful). I hope Ralph Fiennes and Isabella Rossellini get their Oscar noms. Great watch for the whole family!

Biggest Surprise: Thelma, Sing Sing, The Fall Guy, and Oddity

Four “biggest” surprises might be stretching the rules a bit (they are my rules, so I get to do whatever I want with them). If I had to pick one, I’d probably pick Thelma, but all of these movies surprised me in the same way. I had essentially written each one off before I had seen it, thinking I already knew what was up with each and that they didn’t have anything more to them. Obviously, I was wrong! Each had a couple tricks up their sleeve—nothing crazy, but these films I had expected to be lackluster exceeded my low expectations. That’s always the best surprise. I expected Sing Sing to be more of a paint-by-number drama, Thelma and The Fall Guy to make me cringe from unfunniness, and for Oddity to let me down in the scary department as much as Long Legs. Not so!

They Just Didn’t Get It: The Bikeriders

What’s not to love about this movie? Sorry, everything about it is sexy. It was SO wonderful to see Tom Hardy back on the big screen (I don’t keep up with the Venom flicks, sorry) doing his ever-weird voice, being tough and looking good on a motorcycle. Throw in Austin Butler in a dirty, cutoff t-shirt with his gravelly voice and put him too on a motorcycle… you’ve got yourself a REAL flick. Jodie Comer is as magnetic as always, with her doe eyes and hammy Midwestern accent (that was apparently spot-on). This movie has a pretty simple premise: Austin Butler has to choose between the two loves of his life—Jodie Comer and his family or Tom Hardy bike riding and the club, his other family.

I Just Didn’t Get It: Emilia Pérez

This movie is bananas. Not just because its central premise—a Mexican cartel leader fulfilling her dream of transitioning gender and trying to leave her violent former life behind—is a little out there, but because of the foundation and construction of this movie. It’s almost pure Classic Hollywood in its patronizing take on Mexican society by a Frenchman whose research seems to have only gone as deep as headlines. It feels so insincere, like Jacques Audiard mistook Mexico for a sandbox he could play in and then abandon. It’s a film with nothing to say— except that organized crime is bad, maybe—and no love for any of its characters. There’s some truly daring but ultimately gauche filmmaking and a clunky script, paired with some lackluster performances and a musical format that just doesn’t work. It really is just odd. It’s almost brilliant because of how odd it is. Outside of France, where the real freaks reside, the awards love for this film is inexplicable. 

I have an honorable mention for this category, specifically and largely because I waited to finish up my superlatives until I saw it: The Brutalist. This film’s last hour blows it so hard and in ways that I have not yet fully puzzled out. I thought the first two and a half hours were great, so the fumble is really sending me reeling. So totally strange, and I’m not sure if I’m searching for rhyme and reason where there is none. It still places high on my list, but not for the third act’s lack of trying.

Standout Performances: Adrien Brody in The Brutalist and Angelina Jolie in Maria

At this point, this is my ideal pair for Best Actor and Best Actress. 

Did you know that Adrien Brody is a very good and handsome actor? What more could I add? He’s good at his job, even though he doesn’t do it often.

Speaking of Oscar winners who don’t work much: Angelina Jolie! She really disappears into Maria Callas, and I was totally entranced by her beauty and tragedy. I love these Larraín melodramas and what he does with these women.

Hey, That’s That Guy: Fred Hechinger

It was a good year for Fred Hechinger. He’s in some Netflix teenybopper stuff I haven’t seen, and I don’t remember him from Eight Grade, but this year he really turned out. I did like him in Thelma, but not really enough to recall his name until Gladiator II hit theaters and people were discussing his weird little guy performance! From then on I knew Fred Hechinger and was able to offer up a genuinely pleased Hey, That’s That Guy! during Nickel Boys. Allegedly, he was also in Kraven the Hunter, but I wouldn’t know.

Any other year and this category could totally just be Best Jason Schwartzman.

Favorite New Guy on my Radar: Glen Powell

I just watched the original Top Gun this past summer (and wasn’t a huge fan), so I hadn’t seen Maverick and had not yet been blessed by the Glen Powell buzz heretofore. Anyways, it was his 2024 that had him coming in hot on various Young Hollywood lists at the tender age of 36—and it really was a good one! This White Texan Man has overcome every obstacle in his way to charm his way into not only our hearts, but Tom Cruise’s too. He has Hitman and Twisters to thank alongside whoever on his PR team came up with the idea to adopt that stupid little dog (Biscuit).

Best Performance by Harris Dickinson: George MacKay in The Beast

This one’s just for laughs. Check out The Beast, though. George MacKay is outstanding in it (as is Léa Seydoux, which goes without saying). It’s one that didn’t quite click for me but leaves a lot to think about.

New Appreciation: Sebastian Stan

Sebastian Stan is a good actor. We all know this, right? He first entered my personal zeitgeist with Captain America: The Winter Soldier, a certified banger, and I very much resent mostly knowing him as Bucky. I’ve got some realhead credit, as I have seen Political Animals and know he’s solid in I, Tonya, so I’m not saying I was super surprised by his turnout this year. It’s just that his Donald Trump was a real success. He’s a man so ridiculous any sort of impersonation might come off like over-the-top parody, but Sebastian Stan nailed the subtleties and kept it reined in. I also have to flash some respect for A Different Man, which is a truly awesome picture. It’s a tad zany, very postmodern, and I see it  as a sort of panacea for our modern affliction of self-pity and victimization.

Worst CGI Blood Splatter: Smile 2

There are some great effects in this movie, and I assume that’s where the money, time, and effort went to. However, there’s a bit at the beginning of this movie where the guy from the first movie (I think, didn’t see it) dies and the blood splatter looks so bad. You know, bad enough for me to remember it a few months later.

Best Trailer I Had to Sit Through 20 Times During Previews: Twisters

What else is there to say but WE GOT TWINS!!! TWINS!!!!!!!

Kinda Flopped and That Made Me Sad: Furiosa

After Mad Max: Fury Road roared into theaters and into our hearts, we rabidly awaited the prequel that would lay plain the newly-introduced, stoic heroine’s teased background. Furiosa suffers a bit from prequel disease, but that diagnosis is far from terminal. The Mad Max movies are the blockbuster answer to the Disney problem—high-budget, unforgiving brutality in a known IP. Furiosa is great, admittedly not as great as Fury Road, but the hunger for the mad Australian dystopia we had as we cruised out of the Obama years seems to have faded. It’s a shame awards bodies seem to be leaving it in the dust as well. 

Don’t Miss This: Hundreds of Beavers

This is the most wildly creative movie I have seen in years. I don’t think it’s overstepping to label Mike Cheslik a genius, especially after watching him discuss the process of making this and going out to locations to storyboard in the snow. The meticulous care and creativity that went into this is astounding. I don’t want to give too many details because I really want you to watch this. I’m begging you, actually. Once I got 20 minutes into it, I was totally hooked. 

Have Already Rewatched: Problemista

This one is an absolute charmer. It’s funny, sweet, and includes a fantastic performance by Tilda Swinton of an angry and flamboyant neurotic—a wonderfully complex character—who is treated so tenderly. Problemista is grounded by Alejandro’s very serious issue and liberated by boundless imagination and compassion. Julio Torres deserves major kudos for this debut.

My Best Theatergoing Moment: Sold-out Lawrence of Arabia screening in 70mm

THEY DON’T MAKE MOVIES LIKE THIS ANYMORE! And they couldn’t if they tried! I swear to god this movie would be called WOKE if it came out today, even if it still had Sir Alec Guinness in brownface. It’s passably self-conscious about its innate Orientalism, even years before the term was penned. I know Said himself said that “Lawrence was a British imperial agent, not an innocent enthusiast for Arab independence,” but I don’t know if that even works as a rebuff for the film because I kind of believe that’s the Lawrence it’s depicting anyway.

To see Peter O’Toole’s electric blue eyes and the sprawling desert landscapes on the big screen is nothing short of life-changing. I always knew Lawrence of Arabia was magnificently brilliant, even when watching for the first time on my little laptop screen. To see it in a room full of similar admirers and first-timers added a whole other dimension. 

Also: I need to watch more David Lean movies. 

Other movie highlights from my year: My Own Private Idaho in 35mm, I Saw the TV Glow Q&A with Jane Schoenbrun, sold-out Interstellar in IMAX, The Witch IMAX theater screening, my first Barry Lyndon watch, getting the only Ocean State Libraries DVD of Seven Beauties all the way from Block Island, and anytime I spent watching movies with my friends!

Is there hope for the future?

I try to see as much as possible in theaters. I did a pretty good job at that this year—I think I saw at least 70 2024 releases at a theater, along with some screenings of older films. That’s a good chunk of change! At least at Showcase I get some rewards with my Starpass, and at the Coolidge Corner and Avon I know my money is going straight to trying to keep the lights on. Sidenote: I loooooove living within walking distance of the Avon. Even though it’s uphill, the walk back always feels so much shorter because I am restored and invigorated by having just seen a FILM!

Anyway, The theatrical experience is close to my heart. There’s nothing like leaving an auditorium with a group of strangers with whom you have just shared something intimate with. I don’t want us to lose that. I can’t even imagine living further than an hour from a place like the Coolidge and never plan to. As far as hope for the future—no, I don’t really have it, but I have to stress I am cynical by nature. I think things will continue to gradually worsen for the sake of plausible deniability by industry members. Some will put up a fight—child-friendly movies like Wicked with huge stars and social media buzz will continue to get butts in seats—but the days of successful prestige pictures, even by directors like Ridley Scott and Steven Spielberg, are over. Most older people with the greatest disposable income are so afraid of anything new, it’ll only be a few years before we're going to be scraping the bottom of the barrel of musicians to find someone to do biopics about. Look at the state of musicals on Broadway and what gets national tours! We need to spend our money smarter! I’m sick of people complaining about the lack of originality and quality when how they spend their money dictates it! But—and this is cynical Emily speaking—most people enjoy complaining and dislike taking action. Is it nobler to bitch, to make sure your beliefs are public and on your Instagram story so that everyone knows them, that you’re right and you’re a good person, or to actually do even one small thing in opposition to an all-encompassing problem?

I don’t know. And like I said, I don’t think it’s going to make a difference. Just go to the movies, friends, and see whatever middle-budget drivel you can because that actor you like is in it. It’s very fun, and I am happy to confirm that no one puts a gun to your head and forces you to spend $20 on concessions on top of the ticket price. Plenty of movies are middling and unexceptional, but next to none are completely worthless!

Maybe I've been unfair to the boomers. Younger generations also balk at discomfort, and I fear it’s just something that plagues our society as a whole. We live in a world where all of its horrors are available to you on your phone—except that’s just it, it’s only on your phone. When you close your TikTok about Palestine and open Doordash to get your sandwich that winds up being $30 after fees, are you really that unsettled? Or is modern life so comfortable that a hint is all you can take? I’m not saying you need to experience war or sit down for a Lars Von Trier movie every day of your life—just that those things shouldn’t be equated in how much they could disturb you. Life is about as good as it ever has been and as it ever will be at this very moment. The vast majority of Americans live a life of comfort and convenience unrivaled in history. It’s only going to be downhill from here as economic disparity and climate change worsens, and they’ll want us to turn on each other. I just don’t think we’re ready for that if our emotional resilience is so low that a Martin Scorsese movie is a Herculean effort to watch, and people continue to balk at the idea of artists making a living from their work. 

Some postscript:

I drafted this before a 70mm Coolidge Corner screening of The Brutalist, the junior feature from relatively young, multi-hyphenate actor-writer-director Brady Corbet. I’d like you to imagine my experience watching this epic to the making of a Dale Chihuly sculpture—for the first two and a half hours, the pieces are forged and carefully assembled; in the last hour, they are plucked one by one and smashed before the epilogue tips the entire piece over and sends it crashing into the floor. 

So, I had problems with the screenplay, but the more I read about how the movie was made, it’s hard not to think of Corbet as some sort of filmmaking messiah. To make this movie for less than $10 million in this day and age feels like a miracle. I assume that the cast volunteered their time as a tax write-off or something. I’m not saying the whole thing looked totally great—there was one scene where I thought that the effects failed a bit—but it’s still largely impressive, and at its worst, still entirely passable. 

Grossing $1.39 million across 68 screens the first weekend of wider release and averaging a little over $20,000 per is a remarkable achievement. Does this mean audiences are thirsting for arthouse epics? That we’ve entered a new golden age for the art form? No, of course not. I still think we’re pretty screwed, especially when reading anonymous Oscar voter crap where they admit they couldn’t even finish it, and those are people who are IN THE INDUSTRY themselves! Maybe, then, Corbet is a messiah in the full sense. We’re going to crucify him.

As I wrote this postscript, the news broke that David Lynch had passed away. Our titans aging and passing makes it easy to despair. I’m not the biggest Lynch fan ever—I’ve literally only seen The Elephant Man and Eraserhead—and knew him more for his antics and love of art. That’s enough, I think, to share in mourning with the Twin Peaks diehards. There’s solace in what we are left with—a full life’s work—and anger for what we were robbed of in what will forever be unrealized: a reported last project unfunded by Netflix. John Waters couldn’t get money for Liarmouth and Francis Ford Coppola had to cash in on the winery to make Megalopolis. These are living legends, so what does that mean for young, unestablished artists? For women, nonwhite, trans, etc. filmmakers without industry connections? Anyone, even with a big name, who wants to take a big swing? Bah.

“Well, the industry is over.” 

—Martin Scorsese, 2023

That’s a nice note to end my 2024 Year in Review on! Please check out my actual 2024 ranking list if you’re interested. There’ll be a few more updates, so I figured I would link it so it could be live.