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The 5 best films of 2024, according to critic Erin Trahan
Editor's note: Film critic Sean Burns also selected his favorite movies of 2024. Find those here.
Like many folks out there, I thought a lot about politics in 2024. Not just campaigns and elections in the United States, but with those results in, about where the U.S. stands globally. About how governments do and do not reflect the will of the citizens. About how that gap can cause conflict and become the space needed for change. For me, the movies have always played an essential role in puzzling over such questions (and for gawking at gorgeous set design like in Pedro Almodóvar’s “The Room Next Door”).
While I’d typically be won over by Almodóvar’s intimate drama about two brilliant women writers, it left me cold as the pink snow Tilda Swinton’s dying character calls “an upside to climate change.” The story unfolds in upstate New York but the artfully manicured cashmere world felt both conceptually cramped and oddly distant. A similar, admittedly intentional claustrophobia set in with other titles in my wheelhouse, such as “His Three Daughters,” about three adult women awaiting their father’s death, and “Nightbitch,” about the crushing weight of motherhood. All three use interior spaces to comment on the death grip domestic responsibilities still have over women (I did say wheelhouse).
But paradoxically, the teen sisters trapped at home in “The Seed of the Sacred Fig,” the Trans-Siberian miles covered in the documentary “Queendom” or the scream of agony at the end of “Green Border” felt more expansive and inclusive about what lies ahead, not just for those of us living in the U.S. but for all of us. Those films, and more, below listed in no particular order.
'Emilia Pérez'
Zoe Saldaña gives one of the best performances of the year as an ambitious lawyer forced to orchestrate the disappearance of Mexico’s toughest cartel boss. She then becomes the righthand woman of the transformed titular character (a dynamic Karla Sofía Gascón) and together they devote themselves to locating the bodies of cartel murder victims. Saldaña layers her performance with steely eyes and heart. She trained as a ballerina but who knew she could sing?
In this unexpected musical about four women who persevere through loss (Selena Gomez and Adriana Paz round off a strong ensemble), characters break into song because they do not, exactly, control their own lives. Instead, they share different plights of living in the shadows of violent men. The drama gets pumped up with guns and glory that far exceed realism (it is a musical after all) but it also keeps up a snappy pace. Like a good night of karaoke with unanticipated range, “Emilia Pérez” might be the most watchable film on my list this year. If you bring an open mind. [Available on Netflix.]
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'The Seed of the Sacred Fig'
In “The Seed of the Sacred Fig,” a dutiful husband and father of two young women finally gets the government promotion he thinks he has earned. But accepting the job puts himself and his family at risk. He needs a gun. With a nod to Chekhov (“in the first act if you have a pistol...”), the gun goes missing and everything unravels. This fictional thriller takes place in contemporary Iran (shot secretly there by writer-director Mohammad Rasoulof) and is punctuated by videos of protests against the government’s patriarchal theocracy. Holed up at home, the daughters watch clips of young women tearing off their headscarves and marching in the streets. The daughters also witness the repercussions.
Though this film prioritizes bold story twists over nuance, it convincingly captures how a government built on lies can break apart the most tight-knit families. Their kitchen table arguments sound ripped from American headlines on what to avoid while visiting family over the holidays. The increasingly paranoid father defends the government (“she had a stroke” he insists of a young protester, beaten by police) while his daughters beg him to see otherwise. It might be that in “The Seed of the Sacred Fig” Americans begin to see themselves. Or it might be that they continue to suspend disbelief, preferring the trickery of fiction over fact. As Chekhov understood, either way, the gun must go off. [Opening in Boston theaters Dec. 27.]
'Queendom'
This visually stunning documentary offers a singular view from inside Russia. As I watched, I wondered repeatedly how it could possibly get made, given political tensions plus what appears to be a tiny crew (though the cinematography does not suffer). “Queendom” follows performance artist Gena Marvin as she fabricates elaborately grotesque costumes out of red and white vinyl tape, stages scenes wearing the hulking garb, then records and occasionally shares the posts. The costumes alone deserve accolades. In the U.S., Gena would have to fight off talent agents. In Russia, simply looking “weird” gets her locked up.
Director Agniia Galdanova handles the building blocks of “Queendom” with great care, constructing a story that slowly reveals what Gena faces, such as a grandfather who cannot abide queerness. Yet the film also celebrates what allows the artist to flourish. At one point, she must return home to a tiny farm thousands of miles from Moscow. The way she nonchalantly enters a grocery store in costume with a friend, to shop like anyone else, makes it easier for the next person to follow suit. [Visit the film’s website for screening updates.]
'Janet Planet'
Very little seems to happen in “Janet Planet,” but that’s the catch of this purposefully intuitive film, which uses ambient silence better than any other this year. (Even considering the animal-centered survival story “Flow,” void of dialogue.) Set in the woods of western Massachusetts in the early 1990s, 11-year-old Lacy (a self-possessed Zoe Ziegler) leaves camp early to spend the summer with her mom. The warm but adrift Janet (Julianne Nicholson) is an empath who draws all kinds of moths to her flame. In contrast, Lacy confesses to one of those moths (a joyful but broken Sophie Okonedo) that friendlessness is one of the biggest mysteries of her life.
Few first-time filmmakers have the assurance to let scenes play out in real time: Lacy and Janet read on either end of the same couch, eat meals on their back deck with no conversation. Janet’s odd friends float in and out of their lives. Known as a playwright (“The Flick”), writer-director Annie Baker grew up in Massachusetts and pulls off a remarkable debut. “Janet Planet” renders the unspoken but cosmic link between mother and daughter, rooting the story firmly in Lacy’s point of view (it’s still rare to see cinema through a girl’s eyes). Lacy grew up on “Janet Planet,” orbiting her like a moon. Without a telescope, that relationship might look stagnant. Nothing could be further from the truth. [Available to stream on Max or on VOD.]
'Green Border'
“Green Border” may be the hardest film to watch on this list. That’s not much of a movie poster pull quote. But this film by Agnieszka Holland brings urgency and artistry to the unbearable realities of using refugees as political ammunition (an increasingly popular tactic, felt in Massachusetts). Structured in chapters, the story weaves together several points of view — a Syrian family, an Afghani woman, border agent, and human rights activists. Their lives intertwine along the forested border of Poland and Belarus. Neither country wants the refugees, both grossly trample basic human rights. Frustration mounts on all sides with no easy solutions.
Though seemingly unrelated, “Green Border” reminded me of Richard Power’s “The Overstory,” a novel that takes on climate activism from several points of view, centering trees. Refugees in “Green Border” flee to the forest for safety yet those same trees cover grave sins. Similar to the climate crisis, the crisis in “Green Border” feels likewise beyond human scope and this film captures their justified rage. An interesting pairing (or substitute for those who crave uplift) is “The Old Oak,” Ken Loach’s final film. Here, a shopworn pub owner tries to stay neutral when a group of Syrian refugees settles in his northern English village. He cannot. It’s a powerful last word from a filmmaker known for championing the underdog. It sounds more like hope. [Available to stream on Kino Lorber or on VOD.]
Honorable mentions: To better understand the Israel-Palestine war and the cultural response to it, two films stood out this year. Made by Somerville’s Erin Axelman and Providence’s Sam Eilertsen, the documentary “Israelism” investigates the way American Jewish youth learn to merge and then untangle their Jewish identity from the state of Israel. The film became a symbol (and sometimes catalyst) for the unrest on U.S. college campuses over the Israel-Palestine war, including a rescheduled screening at Emerson College.
The yet-to-be widely-released documentary “No Other Land” compiles years of risky footage shot in a group of Palestinian villages called Masafer Yatta (try to find it on Google Maps) in the Israeli-occupied West Bank. Though the film depicts a budding friendship between two young men who collaborated on the film (Palestinian activist Basel Adra and Israeli journalist Yuval Abraham), it likewise shows the destruction of homes, a school, a people. Abraham recently told NPR that they are still looking for a U.S. distributor.
And finally, by following three Texas women who suffered under the state’s opaque abortion ban, and the stalwart lawyer defending them, the documentary “Zurawski v Texas” makes an airtight case for why reproductive rights advocates use the phrase “abortion is health care.”
