100 Best 2024 Movies Released So Far

A sappy expository start like that only makes you suspicious how quickly all hell breaks loose, and boy does that distrust get rewarded. Grave Torture firmly blends religion and the supernatural, with the overarching theme being an exploration of the guilt-inducing belief that questioning faith is tantamount to having no faith, and having no faith leads to punishment. Getting from point A to point B is not the one of the film’s strengths, sometimes feeling like it’s just floating disjointedly. Even then, it nails every violent landing with visceral, satisfying impact. Religion isn’t just some distant theme, it’s our final monster.

Babes tells the story of Eden (Ilana Glazer) and Dawn (Michelle Buteau), codependent best friends who are forced to reevaluate their relationship when Eden finally joins Dawn in becoming a mother. While Eden learns how to be more mature and independent, Dawn struggles to feel like herself again after two exhausting pregnancies. Burdened by these personal problems, they evaluate the boundaries of their friendship and ask themselves, what do they owe each other? It sounds like heavy stuff, but the script—co-written by Glazer and Josh Rabinowitz—has an uncanny ability to make even the most serious parts of the film feather-light. Glazer and Buteau are fiercely funny, charming, lovable, and relatable, and everything comes together seamlessly with Pamela Adlon, who makes her directorial debut with Babes, on the helm. Fans of Glazer’s Broad City and Buteau’s Survival of the Thickest will find much to laugh (and cry) at here.

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).

The journey of transitioning can be tough, but it’s not likely to be as wild as the journey undertaken by the titular rich mob boss of the crime thriller romance musical Emilia Pérez. It’s pretty surprising, with the incredibly stylish and totally unpredictable ways the plot unfolds, all made possible by the ridiculous all-or-nothing methods and means of a Mexican mob, and it’s a delight to see Zoe Saldaña and Selena Gomez feel at home in their respective Spanish-speaking roles. There are certain moments where the film bites off more than it can chew, but the visuals are stunning, the story is daring, and there’s really nothing like Emilia Pérez right now.

At first, Marmalade just seemed like a good ol’ fashioned Bonnie and Clyde story being told by one inmate to another. As Baron tells Otis about his titular Bonnie in Joe Keery’s Southern drawl, there’s a charming bittersweet romance about a man pushed into crime because of healthcare costs and a compelling Camila Marrone as a manic pixie dream girl-flavored femme fatale. By its own, it’s already an intriguing twist to the film noir plot. But the second half turns this romance into something completely unexpected, pulling an insane set of interconnected plot twists that’s just fun to experience. There are certain moments that could have been tighter, but the performances were great, the images were stunning, and the plot was surprising. It’s such a daring move for first time writer-director Keir O’Donnell.

To the untrained eye, a TV interview is just that: an interview, a simple (and at times rehearsed) back-to-back between a reporter and their subject. But Scoop is a thrilling reminder of how complex this process can get, beginning with the legwork to the questioning, and even after airing. In the UK, that quest for truth is complicated by stringent palace rules and the fact that the BBC, which McAlister and her colleagues work for, is a publicly funded institution. How free is the free press when a Royal can call off a story before it airs? And how far are reporters willing to go to protect their piece? Scoop is bolstered by a smart script and a wealth of strong performances—Sewell is almost unrecognizable as Prince Andrew and Gillian Anderson is commanding as anchor Emily Maitlis. But the movie won’t be as strong as it is without Piper leading it; she’s entirely entrancing as she works her way from underestimated underdog to compelling champion.

Given the country’s divisive politics, a second civil war seems plausible, inevitable even. But even though Civil War, the film, takes place in this kind of world, its main focus is on the four journalists who race through the country to get the scoop on a fascist president who’s bound to be ousted anytime soon. We only get hints at the specific causes and developments of the war, but what we do get is an unsettlingly close look at the human toll of it, as well as the realities of reportage—crushing PTSD, ethical responsibilities, and all. It’s a brilliant movie if you set your expectations right.

Hit Man is many things—a romance, neo-noir, comedy, and thriller. And though it sometimes feels like it doesn’t quite reach its full potential in all those areas, it’s hard not to be blown away by Powell’s Rolodex of characters and his palpable chemistry with Arjona. The story itself isn’t as sturdy as I hoped it would be, but it’s supported by a strong, funny script co-written by the ever-reliable Linklater (who I suspect is behind the deep existential ruminations) and Powell (who must’ve supplied the cache of modern jokes), ultimately making Hit Man a smart, funny, and deeply pleasurable watch.

Snack Shack is the quintessential summer movie. It’s sun-soaked and full of mirth as it follows two rowdy boys fighting off bullies and scheming their way to profit, one ingenious scam at a time. But it’s also a tender coming-of-age film, one filled with realistic friendships and painfully awkward romantic encounters. In both instances, Snack Shack doesn’t reinvent the wheel—in fact it’s formulaic almost to a fault. But it’s saved by endearing performances and an effectively nostalgic backdrop. Many times, it feels like any John Hughes movie by way of Superbad. But for the most part, it’s its own distinctive, chlorine-tinged, popsicle-sweet thing.

Often deemed as South Asian John Wick, Monkey Man, of course, has plenty of the stylish action that’s been captivating today’s filmmakers and audiences alike. Dev Patel, now writing and directing alongside leading the film, created a crazy combination of action sequences that mess around with perspective, that’s fuelled by insane choreography, and that take the best from the action thriller greats, but it also mixes in such unique ways, with his one man crusade expanding into an unforgettable folklore-inspired counter campaign against a corrupt, nationalist administration. It’s not a perfect film, but Monkey Man is such a bold debut that marks Patel as a director to watch.