100 Best 2024 Movies Released So Far

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.

Who would’ve thought a wordless, black-and-white, slapstick comedy would still be hugely entertaining in this day and age? Hundreds of Beavers is created in the same spirit as the Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton comedies of yore, but it’s a tribute that manages to feel fresh, exciting, and unpredictable. The premise is simple: a man tries to survive the wilderness in the dead of winter by coming up with new ways to catch game. But the execution is wildly creative and nostalgic. You’ll feel like a kid again watching Saturday cartoons, in the best possible way.

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.

In case you didn’t know, Speak No Evil is based on a Danish film of the same name, released only two years ago. Given that the latter was already a hit among horror fans thanks to its unrelentingly bleak approach, it’s tempting to chalk this remake up to narcissism. As was the case with the movies Otto and Let Me In, maybe Americans just wanted something of their own. While that may be true, it has to be said that this remake, in a word, is good. It’s thrilling and terrifying in its own right, and it adds enough new elements to keep you on your toes. Apart from the new twists, the characters are also more utilized and the social commentary on class and masculinity feels more pointed. Through these additions, among others, it’s able to imagine an alternative storyline that will speak to a lot of audiences.

A big part of Strange Darling’s charm is its ability to surprise you with one twist after another, so it’s best not to get into too many details here. What we will say is that director J.T. Mollner and his cast execute those twists with great finesse, making sure not to waste even a second of your time. The non-linear approach might seem gimmicky at first, but once Mollner presents all the pieces of the puzzle, it ends up feeling like a satisfying payoff. Even if you manage to guess where the film is headed, it still makes for an entertaining watch. Willa Fitzgerald is especially captivating.

For the longest time, land was where people formed strength in community, where people were born, lived, died, and was buried in, but it was also how empires grew in power, often at the expense of the people that came before. Exhuma is centered in a haunted burial site of a Korean family that migrated due to the war, but as the shamans try to unearth the casket, they also uncover the psychospiritual ways in which Japan colonized Korea– haunting the land with their own ghosts, dividing its people through belief, and leaving deep scars that hasn’t yet been fully recovered from. While the double exorcism situation can be a tad confusing, Exhuma nonetheless elevates this folk horror drama with their respect and attention to detail for Korean shamanism.