100 Best 2024 Movies Released So Far

Many films have been made about that uniquely taut mother-daughter bond, but maybe none is as delicate as Janet Planet. The film, written and directed by playwright and first-time filmmaker Annie Baker, explores that relationship in a way that may jar viewers, initially. The pauses are heavy and long as Baker lingers on mood, expressions, and the tiniest of details, like a flicker of light or a sudden movement. There are more scenes without dialogue than with it. The plot is also nonexistent as it simply follows Lacy and Janet for the whole summer, and a little during the fall. But that’s not the point. The point is that we can feel that palpable love-hate tension between mother and daughter, and relate to it too. You only need to know where to look.

Kinds of Kindness is three different short films stacked into one. They don’t share a lot of similarities, except that their characters are played by the same actors, all of whom excellently display varying degrees of isolation and desperation. None of these people are likable—in fact, they’re despicable—but damn if they don’t make you stop and think about what you’re watching. There’s a hitman who struggles with his guilty conscience, a plane crash survivor who may or may not have infectious cannibalism, and a cult member obsessed with cementing her status in the group. You’ll need about a day to process this deeply disturbing movie, but you won’t for a second doubt seeing it in all its glorious weirdness.

More than anything, Netflix’s 116-minute Menendez Brothers documentary feels like a PR shield to protect the streamer against the onslaught of criticism its dramatized series (Ryan Murhphy’s Monsters) received. Netflix wants to have its cake and eat it too. If Monsters painted the brothers as evil and spoiled, The Menendez Brothers takes a more humane approach by shedding much-needed light on male sexual abuse. It also literally gives the brothers a voice by having their present-day selves, through exclusive phone calls, weigh in on the events that led to that fateful day they killed their parents, as well as on the heated legal proceedings themselves. The series is at its best when it focuses on the present (How are the brothers faring in prison? Why is this generation so passionate about protecting them?) and when it gives us a legal breakdown of the complicated case. Since many other documentaries about the brothers tend to focus on the scandal and psychology of such a case, it helps to see what went down in this new light, with input from the brothers no less.

Real life violence is usually not a good idea, but when those in power would do anything to gain more power at the expense of those more vulnerable, sometimes those with the strength should wreak violence. After a fruitful action-comedy collaboration with Netflix, writer-director Timo Tjahjanto teams up with them again for a darker crime thriller The Shadow Strays. It’s a straightforward rescue crime thriller that follows the trend set by John Wick, but with Tjahjanto’s insane horror-inspired, gore-filled kills and Aurora Ribero’s dynamic performance, The Shadow Strays is brutal, exciting, and a cathartic watch in a world betrayed by those at the top.

Death often gets a bad rep in movies. When The Grim Reaper comes for the main character, they usually try to run away from it or steer clear of the light. But in Tuesday, Death is a welcome warm embrace. According to the immortal being, who appears as a hip-hop-loving macaw here, most people even beg for the absolute relief of it. Tuesday is like a modern-day fable in how it teaches us how to appreciate mortality and finality, as odd as that may sound. Indeed, it should be exhausting to be exposed to this much morbidity, but Tuesday has a way of honoring the end of a person’s life in creative and shocking ways. It’s also, refreshingly, unsentimental about it, a feat bolstered by its smart script and impressive all-around performances.

Dog lovers will think they already know everything there is to know about their favorite furry companions, while those indifferent to the animal might think a film will do little to sway their opinion. But Netflix’s Inside the Mind of a Dog makes a surprisingly compelling case for diving deeper into canine psychology. Experts weigh in on their intelligence, which many believe surpasses that of apes, our closest mammal relative, as well as their loyalty and charm. People take the latter two for granted, but they’re actually part of a successful evolution strategy experts have dubbed “survival of the friendliest.” The documentary is full of interesting takes like these, but what really tugs at the heartstrings are the stories of the service dogs we follow. It helps, too, that the movie is narrated by an enthusiastic-sounding Rob Lowe, himself an eager dog owner, and peppered with engaging animations and adorable pup clips.

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.

You’d need to have a lot of trust in people and in movies to like this one. Ordinary Angels is the true story of how a community came together to help a five-year-old in need of a liver at a time when her father was barely making ends meet, having just recently lost his wife to cancer. The film benefits from restraint; it’s not overly sentimental, despite its tragic premise, and has a great and grounded pair of leads in Swank and Ritchson. It’s old-fashioned too and recalls the Oscar-bait sort of films that used to fly in the ‘90s and early aughts—Swank herself is dressed like Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich. The only drawbacks of the film, really, are its unexplained motivations. Why is Sharon sacrificing so much time, energy, and money for this family? The film trusts that, because they happened in real life, her efforts need no expounding. But that leaves us feeling confused. There are also religious (Christian) references that might feel too heavy-handed for some viewers. But otherwise, the film is inspiring if occasionally cloying.

If you’ve never watched the series prior to this, it still has a lot going for it. For one, its exposition is straightforward like a children’s play, telling you who the main cast is, and quickly treating you to musical numbers that are a welcome surprise every time they pop up. The main predicament is hilarious when it first hits, but I’m willing to die on the hill that they could’ve kept the bit going a little longer. Some segments do drag and make the whole thing feel like a long TV episode, and some plot setups can feel a bit hollow, but it’s a pretty relatable and trippy children’s story, regardless.

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.