100 Best 2024 Movies Released So Far

Grandparents are often depicted as innately loving, especially towards their grandchildren, so it’s a delight to see someone like M’s Amah, who is testy and tenacious, and quite proud to be doing her own thing even in her old age. She runs her house alone and sells congee in her neighborhood, and even when presented with the worst possible news, she refuses pity, only allowing M back in her life after he proves his motives are sincere. M, to his credit, is believably selfish and sensitive as a young school dropout. Together, the two and their crackling push-and-pull chemistry are a blast to watch. It’s tender, but never overly saccharine, and no matter how much you resist you’re sure to shed a few tears. How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies may not have the most original plot (I’m sure you’ll be able to guess the ending just by reading the premise alone), but it’s thoroughly engaging, not only because of the two leads, but because of it’s relatable messages about family dynamics (especially Asian family dynamics), money, and legacy. The gentle, unobtrusive cinematography by Boonyanuch Kraithong makes it extra easy on the eyes too. I only wish the movie explored the misogyny of tradition more, instead of merely touching upon it (“Sons get the goods, daughters only get the genes” is such a brilliant line), but I suppose that would need a female writer/director at the helm.

“Inner beauty is what counts” is a cliche many films have tried and failed to tackle, but A Different Man manages to make it feel unsettlingly new. The film follows Edward, a disfigured man who lives a normal but lonely life. No one is overtly mean to Edward—in fact, many are nice—but he’s consumed by the thought of What If. What if he looked like everyone else? Would his neighbor Ingrid finally make a move on him? Would he be the actor he dreamed he’d be? Would he finally get fewer stares on the street? Those questions are answered when a medical trial transforms his face, but they’re rarely pleasant. A Different Man is a dark comedy with some hints of meta; Stan’s character provides the tragedy, Pearson delivers the wry humor, while Reinsve, as the playwright in charge of dramatizing Edward’s life, is the source of the film’s meta-commentary. It’s the weakest link of the three–it feels like a cop-out when it forgives itself for being “exploitative” but the rest of the film’s elements gel to make a modern parable of sorts about appearance and contentment.

We Are the World is a charity single created for African famine relief. It was a smash success– it inspired plenty of other charity singles and already has a TV documentary about it. But The Greatest Night in Pop reveals new behind-the-scenes footage with a home video flair, intercut with interviews from those who were in the booth on that fateful day. The anecdotes about that night might have already been said elsewhere, but director Bao Nguyen manages to capture the energy in the room, peeking into the emotions of the various personalities that helped shape the song. It’s an intriguing, if straightforward documentary, and it’s certainly a treat watching the decade’s best voices collaborate to make this one track.

Young Woman and the Sea is a neatly told, inspiring story about a woman who went against the tide to cement her legacy as one of the most fearless athletes to exist. The movie is polished and nicely detailed, anchored by winning performances and a triumphantly dramatic script—basically everything you’d expect from a Disney movie. And like many Disney movies, Young Woman and the Sea can sometimes be too on-the-nose about its advocacies, but it’s hard to deny its charm. The movie is a treat to watch, and an especially nice segue into the upcoming Olympics.

With the internet able to connect people from miles away, the concept of the one that got away has become unromantic– after all, with instant messaging, their distance just means that you’ve been ghosted. But for the longest time, romance stemmed from the fated circumstances that kept or lost love, and this is excellently portrayed in Touch, a surprising romantic drama from writer-director Baltasar Kormákur best known for his action thrillers. Kormákur infuses the drama with a delicate touch, much more focused on the moments of connection between immigrants from different cultures, with the freedom of the late 60s that marks Kristófer’s youth versus the urgency of the world’s restrictions and Kristófer’s memory. Touch remembers the real romance of the one that got away.

As the title suggests, Saturday Night takes place in all of one night, during the very first airing of the titular NBC show. Everyone’s naturally nervous, not least of all Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), who runs the entire circus. The suits are keeping eye, the cast clashes egos, no one knows where the lighting director is or if costume change can happen just in time. The guests are unhappy, there are too many sketches, and to top it all off, Lorne’s wife Rosie doesn’t know if she wants to use his last name in the credits. The stakes are high. But are they, really? Saturday Night often feels arrogant and self-important in how it assumes we’d care how things went down that fateful night. Still, it tempers that with a humorous self-awareness, some fine performances, an infectious buzzing energy, and well-timed reminders that SNL is, in fact, that show. It changed the trajectory of comedy in TV, and so that arrogance is earned (though still admittedly annoying at times). And lest you think it’s all laughs and nerves, Saturday Night also harbors some surprising sweet stuff in the center. The film doubles as a love letter to New York City, specifically the NYC of the late 20th century. Though that expression can be overloaded too, it’s endearing and enjoyable nonetheless.

Some films struggle to balance style with substance, but Problemista isn’t one of them. It’s brandished with Torres’ unique brand of surrealist aesthetic, which is colorful, freakish, and fun, while also accurately relaying the pains of coming to and making it in America as an outsider. We see Alejandro accept increasingly debasing gigs as he runs out of time and money in the deep maze that is America’s immigration bureaucracy. And all the while, he’s being both genuinely funny and painfully incisive. Torres is not the first person to point out that in this day and age, the monsters we face are overbearing employers, greedy bankers, and exploitative companies, but he just might be one of the few to do it with such imaginative grace.

Nat Geo is still the champion of pristine nature documentaries: the skies, the seas, the snow, and the coloring everywhere is divine. But the serene seaside in Scotland, combined with the reflective, poetic musings about love from Billy and Susan isn’t just cutesy light viewing. I’m confident it can heal an exhausted person. This documentary is a mesmerizing meditation on love and connection, on the things that unite people and other creatures. It might feel like a chunky 77 minutes, especially in the latter half given the pace it goes by, but it’s a warm experience that you instantly know you’ll want to revisit.

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.

Before she captivated the film world with her performance in Scorcese’s crime drama Killers of the Flower Moon, Lily Gladstone starred in Erica Tremblay’s feature film debut Fancy Dance, earlier in 2023. It’s a tragic drama, wherein Gladstone portrays Jax, a lesbian woman dealing with the government that failed to find her sister, and that currently seeks to transfer her niece’s custody to her white father. But it’s also an uplifting drama, one that celebrates the connection between Jax and her niece Roki, the Cayuga culture and language, and the connection with their community and tribe that continues to persist despite state disenfranchisement. Pacing issues do make the film a tad rushed, but nevertheless, Fancy Dance is a subtle and poignant debut, made much more grounded with the excellent lead performances.