50 Best 2024 Foreign-language Movies So Far

While not having world-ending stakes or large-scale operations, Sixty Minutes just works as an action movie. Sure, the plot is familiar and a little far fetched, but the film maximizes the potential of its premise, with excellently choreographed fight sequences working in tandem with the cinematography to reflect the MMA fighter leading the movie. Each moment isn’t wasted, with the action escalating each time Octa finds out about the hidden information kept from him about the match he’s planned to skip, and the film easily keeps track of his journey through neon-lit stopwatch faces and maps. And when we (and Octa) feel tired from all the fighting, the film ends right on time after sixty (and twenty nine) minutes.

Set in the British colonial era, Captain Miller is more unapologetically violent than its counterparts, but it’s not mindlessly so. Sure, the film has plenty of spectacle with numerous battles between townsfolk versus British colonialists, some scenes having gruesome, gory deaths. But in between these battles is Dhanush as the central character, contemplating the oppression from his fellow countrymen, the dignity denied to him from both the colony and more privileged locals, and the choices he chooses to make in spite of this. It’s not a straightforward bad versus good anti-colonial film like RRR, and it may not be as emotionally compelling, but Captain Miller is certainly a unique take on British colonialism with all of director Arun Matheswaran’s signature style.

This story involves a jealous sister and a boy, which is enough of a foundation for a suspenseful story. Though a bit lacking in depth, onscreen interactions carry a lot of emotional weight and strike the balance of having enough said and unsaid. The upbeat pop hits and casual banter throughout goes a long way to at least break up the film’s heavy atmosphere. At its heaviest, it is raw and glorious in its unraveling, placing the ugly side of grief next to the alluring side of envy. But throughout it all, it treats the plot with enough respect to not just be some cheap glorified fantasy.

This film is immediately charming and spends ample time taking you through the mind of Goyo, to where you see where the wheels start turning in his head for each new interaction. It captures his infatuation, obsession, discomfort, and panic, without overdoing or over-explaining anything. Goyo himself (Nicolás Furtado) is an excellent heart of the show with his friendliness and sincerity, but stealing the show alongside him are his and Matute’s (Pablo Rago) solid sibling dynamic and Saula’s (Soledad Villamil) ice cold confrontation skills when you get to see it. It’s a very sweet film that avoids being cheesy, and I imagine Goyo himself would find this movie to be decent if he saw it.

The documentary starts off with a feeler that this is a wild soap opera, a real life science experiment that cannot be enacted in good conscience. If you’d never read the blurb, you’d see the coincidences slowly revealed layer by layer until the story finally clicks. Early on, it feels reliant on telling as opposed to showing, but it could just be a case of working with what you have footage-wise. The openness of our main interviewees does get better with time, but the exploration of the psychological effect and implications of such an event was lacking considering the level of coincidence we’re dealing with. All in all, it’s heartwarming, albeit with the exciting story beats very spaced out.

You would think that a movie about making soup for your friends and studying moss would be a strange mix, but there’s just something so beautifully delicate about the way writer-director Bas Devos links the lives of two immigrants in Brussels, with the contrast between the length of their stay, the things they make, and how long their work would last. It’s a slow burn connection, and with the pending move, it’s a fleeting one, but the runtime is just right to capture the quiet grace of their connection, the one they share as strangers in a stopping point from different places. Here is subtle and transcendent.

Invisible Victim may not be all that different from the plethora of true crime documentaries available on Netflix and other streaming platforms, but it is worth watching if only to see how misogyny continues to be rampant at best and deadly at worst. Despite being beaten, kidnapped, drugged, and eventually murdered by the superstar footballer Bruno, Eliza Samudio was still largely framed as the perpetrator in the public’s eye because she was deemed a slut. “She died because she was money hungry,” one fan said on social media. A reporter, meanwhile, asked Bruno, “How are you handling all the embarrassment coming your way?” as if the real crime was Eliza tainting Bruno’s glowing career, instead of Bruno ending her short life. The documentary succeeds in arousing the viewer’s anger, though it doesn’t offer anything particularly new to a well-known case apart from Eliza’s never-before-seen messages to her friend, which revealed her fearlessness and defiance up until her untimely end.

Through dreamlike colors and tears clouding my eyes, Drawing Closer paints a painful depiction of persistence in love and death. Initially, a number of coincidences and significant details about our main characters Haruna (Natsuki Deguchi) and Akito (Ren Nagase) and their interconnectedness seem to sprout up conveniently, without much weight behind them. But once the ball gets rolling, the film is feel-good in the worst way, an emotional deathtrap, and the most dangerous movie in the world for those who believe in love, and those perpetually afraid of dying in an expensive deathbed. Just thoroughly devastating and beautiful. A 10 in my heart.

After the critical and commercial success of Concrete Utopia, it makes sense for Lotte Entertainment to turn it into a franchise. Badland Hunters is a more action-focused spinoff, with that dystopian world looking like a wild, wild Seoul and Ma Dong-seok as its lone ranger. Compared to its predecessor, the commentary is scant, the plot is thin, and the only thing that connects it is the apartment. But even with the B-movie mad scientist plot, long-time stunt coordinator Heo Myung-haeng makes his directorial debut wildly entertaining, with solid action that doesn’t depend too much on CGI. Human reptiles aside, Badland Hunters is just so fun to watch.

It’s heartbreaking that the case of Maria Soledad is as gruesome as it is common. We’ve all heard of or know about a woman who was raped, strangled, and beaten to death for no other reason than her gender. But even though Netflix’s Breaking the Silence tells Soledad’s story well enough, with detailed research and in-depth interviews, it’s ultimately hard to tell it apart from the hundreds of other true crime documentaries the streamer has produced. A cynic would say that Netflix’s interests lie not in advocacy or justice, but in riding the true crime fad. But a more hopeful viewer will want to believe in the film’s truth and stance against femicide. If you’re the former, then Breaking the Silence won’t do much for you. But if you are latter, and I kind of hope you are, then this documentary will be heartbreaking, frustrating, and more importantly, inspiring.