The Top Ten Films of 2024.

 
If you had asked me how I felt about 2024 movies in September, I would have told you that the outlook is promising. By then, I could have already made a respectable top ten list, and I'd barely touched any likely awards contenders. By September, we already had Dune—now a real movie and not just a trailer, two Dan Stevens movies, a bunch of unexpectedly high-quality horror movies, and Netflix had released several movies that actually might have been written by a human being instead of artificial intelligence. Now in February, if I am assessing objectively, I will report that 2024 was fine; but if I'm forced to watch another 2024 movie I am going to scream—unless it's at the behest of someone I love and respect, which is approximately three and a half people. I am giving up. I would rather rewatch Megalopolis twice than watch three more adequately made but uninspiring dramas. There are several foreign movies I should watch, but am not going to. I may give in and watch the Almodóvar movie after I calm down; but I can't allocate any more hopeful optimism towards random indies, and I may never watch another Luca Guadagnino movie in my life. There is too much good television to ever be bothered with Challengers again.

The Top Ten Films of 2023.

Most people only saw two movies this year, and I don't blame them. As always, there were good movies, but (with a few exceptions) it took some work to find the ones worth remembering. Of course, the Internet wants you to think that 2023 was the greatest year for film since 2019, but the Internet is 90% bots and probably still believes in trickle-down economics. 2023 was maybe a better year for film than 2021. My hottest takes of the year are that no one would care about Killers of the Flower Moon if it were directed by a normal person, and Oppenheimer might be better than Tenet. It's close. Keep in mind that I didn't watch any animated films or documentaries, and I once made the ridiculous claim that 2010 was a bad movie year, so my opinions are questionable.

The Top Fifteen Films of 2022.

After watching 160 movies from 2022, I can confidently say it's been the best year for movies since 2021. There were probably fifty movies released that I wouldn't be mad to see in a top ten list—and while this is partially due to there only being a handful of clear standouts—sometimes it's good enough to be mildly amused relatively often. With that said, while I'm clearly the ultimate authority for cinematic quality, make sure you don't believe everything you read on the Internet. Every movie in existence now gets an 80% or greater on Rotten Tomatoes except for Don't Worry Darling (okay, they got one right), and I'm really sick of getting tricked into watching dull movies about abortion, historical figures, or spiraling alcoholics who won the lottery once. This was at least the year I put my foot down and refused to watch the Gaspar Noe film, so you might say I'm on the path to making better choices.

But wait, this is supposed to be a "best of" list, not an airing of grievances. I watch the trash so you don't have to. If you're a fan of donkeys, cannibalism, or locking people up in your basement; it was a great year for cinema. Do you love films with naked elderly people? It was a great year for you too. How do you feel about mediocre horror films? Because there were a lot. There are always a lot; maybe that's not the best example. Okay, enough about your kinks. Let's talk about mine.

The Top Ten Films of 2021.

Much to my disappointment, movies have started being released in theaters again. As I now refuse to leave my house for any reason; I convinced myself to wait until Licorice Pizza, Parallel Mothers and West Side Story were released on streaming before finalizing this list. Spoiler Alert: West Side Story was somehow the best movie of that group, but I'm still going to compare it to the time Gus Van Sant remade Psycho with Vince Vaughn. Critics don't agree with me because they're too nervous to scold legends, but 2021 was the year of big misses by big directors. Paul Thomas Anderson (Licorice Pizza), Pedro Almodovar (Parallel Mothers), and Guillermo del Toro (Nightmare Alley) should all be ashamed of their 2021 films. Joel Coen made a very pretty version of Macbeth but like...it's still Macbeth. Ridley Scott's The Last Duel was actually good, but its quality is overshadowed by my need to mock him for being angry that no one went to see his 100 million dollar medieval rape movie. Unfortunately, we didn't get a movie from Denis Villenueve this year, but he did release a pretty good two and a half hour trailer for Dune. At least we were able to rely on the never-changing Wes Anderson, who once again released the exact same movie he's been making over and over again for the last ten years.

But as always, I found some films I liked. Maybe you'll like them too. Four and two halves of them are  in English for those of you who can't read. Before we get to the top ten, let's talk about my should-have-been fan-favorite Oscar vote, and give the annual reminder that all animated movies and documentaries are good, so I didn't bother watching them.

The Top Ten Films of 2020.

I usually post this right before the Oscars, but this year they've been pushed back to late April—which means the Academy is an even bigger procrastinator than I am. With that pushback also comes the expansion of eligibility requirements to films released through February 2021. I don't like to pretend 2020 didn't end in December, so some of the Oscar nominees don't qualify for this list. I have very strict requirements for how I define what films were released in 2020 (I check IMDB). So, since Minari was released in 2021, maybe we'll see it on next year's list (we probably will). Like most of you, I didn't see a single 2020 movie in theaters and I probably wouldn't have gone even if I could have. Thankfully, due to Covid, you can now watch movies at home for approximately $40 instead of going to the theater, which seems like an affordable, sustainable model.

Anyways, some movies came out in 2020. Hopefully, you watched some of them since you weren't allowed to do much else. Here's a list of my favorites, as well as the rest of the riff-raff.

The Top Fifteen Films of 2019.

Sometimes, when narrowing down a top ten list, it becomes overwhelming and you decide to cheat and make a top fifteen instead. There were a lot of strong films in 2019; and while I am extremely annoyed that a lot of them barely got limited December releases, soon we will have successfully killed off the theater industry and we'll be able to watch the Oscar-grabs on Netflix instead of only in LA and New York. Not that I want the industry to die—it's just going to happen and I've accepted it. Even Scorsese is sold on Netflix, and he won't even watch a superhero movie. I suppose I'll quit rambling now and get to it.

Top 50 Films of the Decade.

This is the first decade in which I was an adult the whole time, and I'm not sure if that makes me more or less qualified to arbitrarily rank films. I do know that I watched over eight hundred movies this decade and liked at least three of them, so I at minimum have a thorough library to pull from. I also put out a top ten list every year this decade so I've had an easier time keeping track of the films I watched. I wish I'd had that frame of reference when haphazardly throwing together my top 50 of the 2000's ten years ago. It's fun to look back on those lists and wonder: What was I thinking when I ranked Chi-Raq my favorite film of 2015? Why did I initially have so much hatred towards 2010? In what year did I finally stop putting two spaces after a sentence?

So here are my top fifty films of the decade. These are the movies that have floated around in my head since their release. Some of them I didn't even initially like. Of course, there are plenty of terrible movies that have floated around in my head too, but I've spared you those. You'll notice a general lack of 2019 films, and I promise I've seen most of them. The only one that needs to be on this list is present, although maybe given some time a few more may have snuck on. There are also no documentaries or animated movies, because you don't need me to tell you those are good. Finally, there aren't any superhero movies (although Logan or Guardians of the Galaxy may have been close) because I tend to side with Scorsese—they're fun but forgettable. To be fair, I also feel that way about most of Scorsese's movies too.

The Top Ten Films of 2018.

2018 was the year I realized no one is going to watch a single movie I recommend unless it's available to stream on Netflix or Amazon Prime. I can't really blame them. I saw 120+ movies in 2018 and didn't watch a single one in theaters—as going out in public is nearly as terrifying as the people you encounter there. And while the number of streaming services is exhausting (and only getting worse), take solace in the fact that nearly everything is eventually available to rent from our new overlords at Amazon. That being said, I know you're still more likely to watch The Office for the eleventh time rather than throw Bezos another $4.99, but I'll do my best to put together a list for you. To be honest, that's not even true, because this list is for me and you probably won't like any of these films. Go watch The Office while you still can.

So let's talk about some movies you've either already seen or are never going to see. We'll start with some random musings before we get to the mostly arbitrary rankings. As always, this list does not include animated films or documentaries, and ties go to the movies I want to write about.

The Top Ten Films of 2017.

Some movies came out in 2017. As someone who loves movies, but finds most movies average at best, they weren’t great. I also watched less movies in 2017 than I have in any year since 2010, and I’m not sure if that’s the reason I’m underwhelmed or if it's indicative of their quality. However—as is the case every year, there was still a twenty way tie for tenth, so don’t let my pessimism get you down. Let’s start with some honorable mentions.

The Top Ten Films of 2016.

I am aware that 2016 ended two months ago; but as a completion-obsessed shut-in who uses too much punctuation, it takes a while to track down all the Danish movies about chicken that I want to see. Thankfully, we can adopt the Academy Awards as 2016's film criticism deadline. I know you'll probably be spending your Sunday at the liquor store in preparation for all the political acceptance speeches, so don't worry about reading this right away. But if you find your mind wandering while La La Land wins just about every category, feel free to reference this list as a reminder that other films did come out.

The Top Ten Films of 2015.

I think there's something in my blind spot.

The Oscars are Sunday and thus, I return to you. I actually made it an entire year without writing a single word, which coincides with my realization in November that I'd only seen a handful of 2015 films. I kept waiting for the barrage of theatrical must-sees. Then I realized that essential Hollywood was largely taking the back half of the year off. Don't let my pessimism get you down though, because I made up for lost time and saw a lot of good films in 2015. I'm just crabby because I liked 2014 too much, and nothing in 2015 blew me away like The Guest did. Before we get to my arbitrary ratings, let's hit some honorable mentions and talk about the movie I feel required to mention—even though I really don't want to.

The Top 10 Films of 2014.

It's so tempting to Photoshop Nicolas Cage into the negative space.

After another five month hiatus, I'm back for the yearly staple. We have a record low of one Best Picture nominee gracing the top 10 this year, which goes to show that I have severely different tastes than ridiculously old white people. Turns out, most of the great films of the year were fairly divisive, and we all know that you can't win a Best Picture award if you leave people feeling uncomfortable. As always, documentaries and animated films are ineligible as I didn't make an effort to see all (or any) of them. Here are your honorary awards.

Boyhood: Richard Linklater's Battle Against Alcoholic Stepfathers.

Dear Richard Linklater,

You worked wonders with Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight.  Every nine years, you gave us another great movie focused on the same two people in various stages of their relationship.  The series evolved with its characters; what began as a starry-eyed romance ended as an explosive bout within a long term relationship.  With only two hours every nine years, you created a believable relationship between two very real characters that easily produced empathy.

With Boyhood, you've attempted the opposite.  Instead of giving us the snapshots and letting us fill in the blanks, you've provided a full twelve years in one character's life.  We watch as Mason, the boy in question, grows from a child into a young man.  Unfortunately, the effect is not the same.  There isn't enough time for both Mason's life story and the emotions that accompany it; and at times, Mason seems more of a peripheral figure than a protagonist.

Guardians of the Galaxy: The Avengers Youth Team.

Guardians of the Galaxy gets bonus points for following The Avengers formula without depending on five origin films to set up all the character development necessary to facilitate the coming together of its main characters.  That being said, the film immediately thrusts its wise-cracking protagonists into an intergalactic religious war; pausing only momentarily to produce thin explanations for the necessary plot devices.  The complexities of why–or honestly even who–the Guardians are fighting, don't seem to matter to the filmmakers.  Thankfully, it doesn't really matter to the audience either.

A Million Ways to Fart in the West.

The role that expectation plays in our enjoyment of cinema is an intriguing one.  As I get older, it seems more and more people—notably those with spouses, kids, or responsibilities other than checking their Facebook notifications—have begun using the phrase, "It seems like a rental," when referring to films of tentative quality.  My version of "It seems like a rental", is the noon showing on a Thursday afternoon, when I've suddenly found myself mysteriously awake before 2 PM.  This is the story of how I found myself watching A Million Ways to Die in the West.

22 Jump Street: You Know, The Second One.

21 Jump Street was way better than it ever deserved to be.  In an era of reboots, it stood alone as the film that actually tweaked its source material enough to spit out an original product.  It occasionally mocked its existence, but spent more time poking fun at the Glee-generation and flipping high school stereotypes on their head than it did rehashing old narratives.  It barely felt like a reboot.

Two years later, 22 Jump Street feels like nothing but a sequel.  In fact, the movie's sole purpose is to remind you, over and over again, that you're watching a sequel that was only made to squeeze more money out of a tired concept.  The self-satire is frequently amusing, but 22 Jump Street spends so much time making fun of itself that it forgets to become more than the concept it's been mocking.

Neighbors, or Seth Rogen Kind of Grows Up.

I no longer know how to write about comedies without being tempted to go on a long tirade about why there are so few great ones nowadays.  Maybe someday I'll provide you with that lecture, but for now let me try to focus on Neighbors, the latest entry in a long line of comedies that we can at least consider adequately amusing.

In Neighbors, Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne play a young couple with a cute baby who are trying to keep the youthful dream of having sex in the kitchen alive.  Unfortunately, they're now old and sleep deprived, so their efforts are typically stifled by their child, exhaustion, or Seth Rogen's declining sexual prowess.  When a fraternity moves into the house next door, Seth and Rose attempt to become fast friends with the fraternity leadership (Zac Efron and Dave Franco) in the hope that their friendship will convince their new neighbors to keep it down while they're trying to sleep.

X-Men Days of Future Past, or Terminator 2: Motivational Speaker Edition.

"You need to make stronger life choices, son."

It's the future, guys.  It's really dark in the future.  And the T-1000's Sentinels have been killing all of our mutant friends.  The solution, of course, is to send Wolverine into the past, because Kitty Pryde (who went into the past in the comic incarnation) is a woman, and women aren't allowed to be main characters in movies.

The resulting film is an X-Men family reunion composed largely of motivational speeches, since the majority of the plot is articulated to us within the first fifteen minutes by narration, and then relayed to the X-men of the past via Wolverine's first of many motivational speeches to a young Professor Xavier.  Thankfully, we're also treated to the obligatory getting-the-band-back-together sequences, which are the moments in which Days of Future Past actually remains bearable for a while.

Noah: Aronofsky's Guide to Adaptation.

Singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain.

In many ways, Aronofsky has done with Noah what I've been begging someone to do for a long time.  He's taken a story that everyone's familiar with and adapted it into a twisted nightmare for everyone who was hoping for a faithful adaptation.  Sure, I was hoping for a twisted adaptation of a beloved young adult novel (C'mon, R-rated Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants), but this will do for now.

The Grand Budapest Hotel, of Which I Start Writing Four Different Things and Then Forget What My Point Was.

I assume the rule of thirds is applied here by accident.

On a delightfully whimsical day in the throes of 2007, a much-thinner-than-now, pink-haired youth sitting in a quaint classroom in the romantic and mysterious land of East Lansing, Michigan was asked to provide to the classroom his favorite director of films.  To this question, he replied simply—avoiding the tenuous conviction typically associated with the youths of 2007—with "Woody Allen" (Or Takashi Miike, one can't be too sure in a year like 2007).  One after another, the next eleven youths in a row supplied "Wes Anderson" as their most preferred director of cinema.  And the colored girls went, "Doo do doo do doo do do doo..."