50 Best 2024 Documentaries So Far

Celebrities are often described as being “vulnerable” in documentaries, but it’s never been more fitting in this case. Here, Celine Dion opens up about her near-paralyzing illness, which affects her vocal cords and muscles and consequently prohibits her from performing on stage. We see clips of the star having spasms and breakdowns as she tries and fails and tries again to get her voice back. More than just a simple biography of what Dion has achieved, which we already know is massive, the film is largely about the doubt that creeps in and threatens to rock your sense of self, and the strength of the human spirit to persevere despite all that. The film is bracingly, unflinchingly raw, but it’s never exploitative, thanks partly to director Irene Taylor’s gentle direction and to Dion’s unwavering resilience.

Frida Kahlo is an iconic Mexican painter, not just because of her outstanding art, but also because of her outlook in life, despite her ill health and tragic accident. Because of this, she has been talked about in multiple books, movies, and exhibitions, but a new documentary has popped up, this time from her own words. Carla Gutierrez’s directorial debut is a revelation, voiced primarily in Frida’s native Spanish and paired with key archival footage, vivid animations of her paintings, and an excellent acoustic score plucked from classical guitar. Being a biographical documentary, fans of the artist would, of course, be familiar with her life events, but Gutierrez’s approach is still worth watching, mostly because it’s Frida’s own words driving the film.

There is a lot to appreciate and learn from this work, which is a streamlined history of queer standup with so many enlightening stories. There is a LOT of standup footage and commentary from different eras, and different flavors between them evoking crass, feel-good, and revolutionary — which is reason enough to dive in. It’s got a self-assured tone to it, thanks to all the unapologetic and quick-witted figures telling their story and choosing to make it one of inspiration. In a word, it’s an informative celebration of queer standup comics, of tapping into empowered selves on and off-stage, reminding us that activism is always within reach.

At the peak of his fame in the 80s, Christopher Reeve was constantly seen as his onscreen character, Superman. Like him, Reeve could fly (planes). He was full of charm and stood for what was right. But in this revealing documentary, we learn the whole truth about Reeve; his troubled childhood, his initial struggles with commitment, his physical talents, his love for family, and—as many a superhero star will sympathize with—his deep yearning for a creative career outside of the comic book character who made him famous. Of course, a significant chunk of the documentary also deals with Reeve’s unfortunate paralysis. We witness, through home movies and narrated biographies, how he coped with the tragedy. Making the film even more special is the input of his three children, who look back at the time with generous honesty and vulnerability. This film is made for fans of the actor, but it’s also a great example of the power of advocacy (Reeve became a disability rights activist after the accident), love (his wife Dana is a superhero on her own), and legacy (his children run his foundation to this day).

Backed by hefty research, dramatized by great players, and made relevant by the current and future impact aerospace has on the human race, Wild Wild Space makes for a surprisingly thrilling watch. Like the title suggests, outer space is a gold mine of opportunity right now, and the three startups the film zeros in on—Astra, Planet Labs, and Rocket Lab—are competing much in the same way the cowboys of the Old West are, full of ambition and lacking any mercy. It’s packed with drama, which you wouldn’t normally expect from a film that’s largely about physics, finance, and politics, but here we are. And the simultaneous storytelling works, too. They’re all equally interesting and overlap in smart ways, thanks to Kauffman’s deft editing and Vance’s knowledgable takes that tie it all together. Scientist vs capitalist vs madcap underdog is a story you’d never know to watch till the end till now.

On Jeju Island, there lives a fierce group of elderly women who free-dive and catch sea creatures for a living. They’re called Haenyo, considered indigenous because of the ingenious ways they’ve kept the South Korean tradition alive for decades. In this beautiful documentary, Director Sue Kim follows them under the sea and beyond as they fight to preserve their way of life, which is threatened by global warming (the creatures have gone deeper to avoid warm waters), corporate interests (Fukushima’s radioactive waste, if dumped in the ocean, would affect the community), and waning public interest (only a handful of the Haenyo are under 70 years old). There’s also the issue of payment and protection, because as one freediver puts it, “What’s the use of being recognized by UNESCO if we can’t earn enough to sustain ourselves?” The Last of the Sea Women tackles all this and more using the most gorgeous shots I’ve seen in a while.

Giannis Antetokounmpo’s rags-to-riches life story is the stuff of movies, and indeed it’s been told many times on print and screen. But this is the first time he and his family are telling it themselves, which is a big deal since Antetokounmpo, as it turns out, is inseparable from his family. Their revealing interviews about how they struggled as undocumented immigrants from Nigeria in Greece add a new, moving depth to a well-known journey, which Director Kristen Lappas wisely divides into chapters named after Greek ideals Antetokounmpo represents. Despite Lappas’ background (she is Greek-American), she makes sure to balance Antetokounmpo’s heroic moments with the Greek government’s at-times unfair treatment of the athlete and other immigrants in the country. She also puts a spotlight on the pressures Antetokounmpo is going through as one of the youngest champs in NBA history. After all, at just 29 years old, he’s already a two-time MVP and playoff winner. This doc proves that the story of how he got there is no less remarkable.

After the La Manada rape case in 2016, it was necessary to document this event, especially since the widespread national outrage and demonstrations managed to move the country to change the way Spain defines consent. You Are Not Alone: Fighting the Wolf Pack documents this arduous journey. While it’s done through the familiar Netflix true crime approach, there’s some respect given to the victim that hasn’t been given previously by the media. The film sticks to the actual verbatim words used by the victim, albeit edited for clarity, but they ensured that their words were not accompanied with photos or similar looking actors, keeping the truth of their words without risking their safety. While the documentary’s direction isn’t new, the outrage is still felt, as well as the genuine hope of a country that came together to ensure justice.

For people having difficulty bearing a child, artificial insemination is one way to go for parenthood, but going to sperm banks can be expensive, shrouded with too much anonymity, and have had many incidents of malpractice. Some people would rather take things into their own hands. Spermworld explores the journeys of three different internet sperm donors, who meet with hopeful parents. It can be awkward, even when the donors are fairly ordinary guys with fairly decent motives, but the way director Lance Oppenheim approaches the community is disarmingly human, acknowledging the strange quirks that come with the donation, but also the interesting parental desires human beings do have.

In 1966, Elizabeth Taylor and her friends recorded themselves talking about the ups and downs of her life. These candid conversations are the basis of The Lost Tapes, a revealing tell-all that allows Taylor to set the record straight in her own words. Here, you get to see and hear the many parts of Taylor–her romanticism, activism, and passion, as well as her fun banter with the journalists, friends, and lovers who alternately interview her. Of course, the downside to having Taylor and her loved ones narrate a biography is you only get one side of the story, while the thornier parts of her life are skated over. Things like child labor and having to play a married-24-year-old at 16 years old, or being physically abused and suffering a miscarriage, these are things Taylor, and therefore the documentary, shy away from expounding. But while it may not be the definitive documentary on Taylor, it certainly is the most personal and intimate. It also serves as a reminder of how we’d all like to be remembered—in our own and our cherished friends’ words.