No matter how dragged-out Oscar season can seem, I’m a fan of this time of year—mostly because the focus is on the quality of films, not how much they make at the box office. But there is one aspect of these months of build-up that can be really wearying: Once the Academy Award nominations are announced in January, that means a lot of great movies that didn’t receive a single nod basically drop out of the conversation, leaving us with only a handful of films that are discussed and debated ad nauseam. And in a year as rich as 2024, it’s ridiculous to think that the movies that will be mentioned during the March 2nd telecast were the only ones last year worth watching. Turns out, they’re merely the tip of the iceberg.
So, like in 2024, I decided to do a special “In Memoriam” for 10 terrific movies that received no love from the Academy. I’m generally happy with this year’s nominees, but an even better Oscar ceremony would have included the films I singled out down below. And let’s be clear: There were many more than just 10 great films in 2024 that were ignored by the Oscars. I didn’t have room on my list for Pedro Almodóvar’s “The Room Next Door,” the unfairly maligned “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga,” Bas Devos’ romantic drama “Here,” the barely-seen “In the Summers” and the criminally underrated “Kinds of Kindness.” And that’s to say nothing of fascinatingly divisive films such as “Megalopolis,” which I thought was a failure but you may have loved.
In alphabetical order, here’s my tribute to some standout films we won’t see honored at the Academy Awards. Maybe I left off some movies you really adored. That only strengthens my argument: We don’t need the Oscars to remind us that so many gems don’t fit their narrow definition of “best.”
The 2024 Cannes Film Festival factored heavily into this year’s Oscar race—Best Picture nominees “Anora,” “Emilia Pérez” and “The Substance” all debuted on the Croisette—but, sadly, another movie that earned glowing reviews at the prestigious French festival failed to factor into the Academy Awards conversation. Indian writer-director Payal Kapadia’s “All We Imagine as Light” tells the story of two nurses—one older (Kani Kusruti), one younger (Divya Prabha)—who are roommates in Mumbai, both of their lives at a crossroads.
This delicate drama was a hit among critics’ groups and received a BAFTA nomination for Best Film Not in the English Language, but Kapadia never managed to gain much traction among Oscar voters. A big reason was the fact that this international co-production was not submitted by either India or France as those countries’ Best International Film contender. (As a reminder: There’s only one film per country allowed for consideration at the Oscars. France, for instance, went with “Emilia Pérez” as its official entry.) As a result, “All We Imagine as Light” lost out on its best shot at Oscar recognition, once again highlighting the problems involved in how that category’s nominees are determined. But those who saw “All We Imagine as Light” know how special it is—and it earned more than a million dollars at the U.S. box office, an impressive haul for a low-budget, subtitled movie with no stars.
Because of the weirdness of the recent release calendar, which was thrown into disarray because of the 2023 writers and actors strikes, Luca Guadagnino put out two movies last year. The first of those, “Challengers,” was meant to open the 2023 Venice Film Festival, but the studio pulled the movie after it became clear that the stars wouldn’t be able to promote it. Instead, this ridiculously entertaining love triangle between rising tennis prodigies opened in the spring, about half a year after Guadagnino’s other 2024 offering, the melancholy romantic drama “Queer.”
His adaptation of the William S. Burroughs novel was superb, but it didn’t match the electricity, sexiness and wit of “Challengers,” which arguably gave Zendaya, Josh O’Connor and Mike Faist their best big-screen roles to date. (Especially shocking, two-time Oscar-winners Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ cheeky, danceable electronic score was also ignored by the Academy.) In the end, neither of Guadagnino’s 2024 movies received a nomination, but I suspect “Challengers” will be the one we talk about more in the future.
“Dahomey”
The winner of the Golden Bear at last year’s Berlin Film Festival, this probing documentary used at its jumping-off point the French government’s decision in 2021 to return 26 African artifacts to what is now known as the Republic of Benin. Mati Diop, who previously made the 2019 supernatural drama “Atlantics,” is a filmmaker invested in the lingering political and racial tension between Europe and Africa, and “Dahomey” makes those concerns especially pointed, examining how the locals react to these returned treasures.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Diop’s camera captures both those who celebrate this homecoming and those angry that these artifacts represent only a small portion of the artifacts plundered by French colonizers in the 19th century. Incorporating fantasy elements alongside its deceptively dispassionate tone, “Dahomey” is a gripping exploration of how African cultures have tried to restore their history—and how some scars won’t heal.
“Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World”
In a just world, Ilinca Manolache would have been a frontrunner for Best Actress. She’s the volcanic lead in Romanian writer-director Radu Jude’s angry takedown of late-stage capitalism. Manolache plays Angela, a lowly Bucharest P.A. working for a huge conglomerate: She’s been tasked with driving around town interviewing employees who got injured on the job, finding those willing to admit that it was their fault, not the company’s, for a self-serving corporate PSA. When she’s not stuck in this soulless gig, Angela spends her downtime blowing off steam recording social-media videos in the guise of her mockingly misogynistic alter ego, Bobita—a funny, repellent character Manolache created years before Jude incorporated it into his film.
“Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World” flips the bird to Zoom meetings, pretentious artistes, sexists, consumerism, you name it. Its rage and dark humor feel appropriately apocalyptic—this may not be the end of the world, but you can see it from here.
Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s last film, 2021’s “Drive My Car,” won Best International Film at the Oscars, as well as received nominations for Best Picture, Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay. His follow-up didn’t enjoy the same level of acclaim, but it’s a keeper. “Evil Does Not Exist” finds Hamaguchi moving away from the straightforward dramatic style of his previous work—which also includes the enchanting “Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy”—and entering more mysterious, menacing terrain. The story involves a Japanese company moving into a small, forested community, hoping to develop an expensive glamping site. The locals fear that such a project will disrupt the fragile rustic ecosystem, and a single father (played by Hitoshi Omika) reluctantly agrees to meet with emissaries from the company, who are out to win over the townspeople’s trust.
Sort of a thriller, sort of a treatise on the dangers of despoiling the planet, “Evil Does Not Exist” was inspired by a collaboration between Hamaguchi and his “Drive My Car” composer Eiko Ishibashi—their project, a live score complemented by his visuals, gave birth to this film. Few 2024 movies had a more unnerving or debated ending, but however you interpret the finale, there’s no question that Hamaguchi remains among our most compelling directors.
No character left a greater impression on moviegoers than Pansy. Marianne Jean-Baptiste plays this angry middle-aged woman who lashes out at her husband, her son and whoever else sets her off. Insisting she sees racism everywhere and that she’s surrounded by fools who lack her common sense, Pansy is the bitter, depressed flipside to Poppy, Sally Hawkins’ bubbly protagonist in Mike Leigh’s 2008 film “Happy-Go-Lucky.” With “Hard Truths,” Leigh fashioned an intriguing companion piece to his previous movie, in each case wondering how different extreme personalities got that way.
Jean-Baptiste won the acting trifecta, snagging the top prize from the New York Film Critics Circle, the Los Angeles Film Critics Association and the National Society of Film Critics, but she was left off the list of nominees for the Golden Globes and the Oscars. It’s an uncompromising performance that refuses to water down Pansy’s ugly misanthropy, and yet Jean-Baptiste also reveals the deep hurt underneath all that rage. The Academy may have been repelled by this character, but smart audiences embraced Jean-Baptiste’s brilliant turn.
This is not the only reason Azazel Jacobs’ searing drama failed to connect with Oscar voters, but one of the challenges of praising “His Three Daughters” is trying to figure out which of the three lead actresses should be most singled out. Do you go with Carrie Coon’s acerbic, judgemental Katie? Natasha Lyonne’s hurting, defensive Rachel? Elizabeth Olsen’s sensitive, peace-making Christina? However you land, you’re right: This look at dysfunctional sisters preparing for the death of the father they share—Katie and Christina had a different mother than Rachel—draws its considerable power from the way its trio deftly work off one another, creating a realistic portrait of a family falling apart.
Many films have dealt with the passing of a parent, but rarely do they resist sentimentality as arduously as “His Three Daughters” does. As a result, this quietly crushing movie becomes the platonic ideal of the grief drama, even finding space for the dark humor that can arise during the saddest of moments. (Note: This will be playing Ebertfest this year, with Jacobs in attendance.)
When the Oscar nominations were announced, Karla Sofía Gascón’s Best Actress nod was worth celebrating: The “Emilia Pérez” star was the first openly trans actress to be recognized by the Academy. We all know what happened after that, unfortunately, but her deplorable views can’t hide the fact that 2024 was a breakthrough year for trans film artists both in front of and behind the camera. Leading this movement was writer-director Jane Schoenbrun, who is now two movies into a career that augurs an exciting future. I deeply dug their 2021 debut, “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair,” an intimate psychological horror film, and her follow-up operates on a bigger canvas.
A sensation at Sundance, “I Saw the TV Glow” stars Justice Smith as Owen, an uncool teenager who bonds with another outcast, Maddy (Jack Haven), who is obsessed with a cult YA TV show, “The Pink Opaque.” Soon, they’re both madly in love with the series, which makes it extremely painful when it gets canceled. Both a metaphor for the trans experience and a visually arresting coming-of-age drama, the film finally gave Smith a platform worthy of his talents. (Previously, he was one of the best things in forgettable blockbusters like “Detective Pikachu.”) And it suggested that Haven, like Schoenbrun, is a talent just now coming into their own.
“Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell”
Vietnamese writer-director Phạm Thiên Ân won the Camera d’Or, for best first film, at the 2023 Cannes Film Festival, but since then his gorgeous debut has struggled to establish much of a foothold among U.S. critics or awards voters. Nonetheless, “Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell” has haunted me since that initial screening, following a directionless young man (Lê Phong Vũ) who travels from Saigon to his home village alongside his nephew, whose mother (and our protagonist’s sister-in-law) has just died. “Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell” is a journey into the past, which Ân dramatizes through a series of incredibly beautiful long takes.
This languid, moving film touches on religious faith and mortality, musing on how people find some sense of contentment in a world riddled with fear and heartbreak. Spiritually cleansing and alive to the mysteries of nature and the otherworldly, “Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell” may restore your spirit—I know mine is each time I see the movie.
Arthouse studios have to decide where to invest their time, energy and (most importantly) money during awards season. This past year, A24 pushed hard for “The Brutalist,” “Sing Sing,” “Babygirl” and others, which meant that the company’s best film from 2024 felt like an afterthought. “Janet Planet” was a tender story of a wobbly mother and her anxious daughter, played with brittle beauty by, respectively, Julianne Nicholson and Zoe Ziegler. Told in three chapters, each of them focusing on someone who comes into the mother’s orbit, threatening her daughter’s close attachment to her, writer-director Annie Baker’s debut remembers how powerful (and yet so opaque) our childhood memories of our parents are.
Much like another A24 film, 2022’s “Aftersun,” “Janet Planet” feels definitive in its capturing of adolescence—they both poignantly illustrate how we can never fully understand the people who raised us. Nicholson has never been better as Janet, a mother trying her best, both in terms of finding love and in raising her precocious child. Like all these overlooked films, this is a marvel just waiting to be discovered.
