A Year of Losing the Plot (and Peak Top 10 Lists)

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As a film critic who has been attending screenings and festivals for the past three decades, I have seen the industry evolve significantly over the years. The year-end tradition of announcing the Top Ten films is one that I’ve always found fascinating, as it offers a glimpse into the collective consciousness of the moviegoing public and the filmmakers who cater to their tastes.

For the Hollywood-centric, the holiday-of-your-choice festivities and the countdown to the New Year mean a different set of seasonal rituals: the accountants tally up the box office returns and the critics make up their Top Ten lists. The first has the advantage of mathematical precision, the second the satisfaction of taste-mongering, and together they neatly encompass the commerce and art that defines the topic at hand. In short, it’s time to cue up a montage of images from the past year and take stock of the big picture.

From a commercial standpoint, even though the film exhibition sector had faced challenges, the forecast for 2024 domestic box office revenue is surprisingly promising, projected to be around $8 billion. This represents a decrease from the impressive post-COVID rebound of $9 billion in 2023, but the National Association of Theatre Owners chooses to emphasize the positives. They attribute the decline primarily to a scarcity of films due to labor strikes and find optimism in the resurgence of moviegoing. This revival could be attributed to people’s pent-up desire (cabin fever), the appeal of Nicole Kidman, or the release of highly anticipated films towards the end of the year. As a result, going to the movies appears to have reemerged as an appealing choice for entertainment.

It’s no surprise, and unfortunately, it suggests more of the same, that the most popular movies in 2024 were primarily based on existing franchises. Not a single one of the top ten highest-grossing films was an original creation; they were all sequels, remakes (like _Twisters_), or prequels. The titles themselves follow a predictable pattern, with no creative thought put into subtitles (such as _Moana 2_, _Kung Fu Panda 4_). Explanatory subtitles didn’t seem to help movies like _Joker: Folie à Deux_ or _Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga_. Wisely, _Gladiator II_ stuck with the Roman numeral in its title.

It’s intriguing, or perhaps disappointing, to note that despite the anticipated growth, the cinematic worlds of Marvel, DC, and Star Wars haven’t expanded significantly beyond Deadpool and Wolverine. Surprisingly, none of the major hits in recent times have originated from comic book series or a distant galaxy. This news might bring relief to theater chains, but it’s tempered by a less pleasant reality when you step into the theater – not about the film, but the audience. The movie-going experience of 2024 can hardly be rewound without a grumpy rant about the intrusions from viewers who treat the movie screen as an annoyance compared to the screens in their hands. According to my personal observations as a regular cinema-goer, the problem of glowing screens, texting, and chatter has escalated significantly this year, with a new layer of aggravation: blatant recording of scenes from the screen.

As a film enthusiast, I ponder if the distractions from smaller devices will become an enduring blemish in the grandeur of the big-screen moviegoing experience. After all, disruptive, inconsiderate, and self-centered cinemagoers have always been irritants to those of us who are there primarily to appreciate the film – which is why old-time nickelodeons displayed reminders on screen for ladies to take off their hats and gentlemen to avoid spitting tobacco juice.

During the classical Hollywood period, the audience’s behavior was reminiscent of a society described in a Jane Austen novel. While they were louder, expressing their enthusiasm through hissing, cheering, applauding, and occasional witty remarks, their reactions were unified and driven by the movie unfolding before them. Instead of disrupting the cinematic experience, their responses enriched it.

Trade publications catering to exhibitors, such as the “Better Theatres” section in the Motion Picture Herald magazine during that era, frequently focused on creating a welcoming environment for an enjoyable movie night. Back then, even local cinemas would hire ushers in uniforms to escort latecomers to their seats with a torch, monitor the aisles, and manage troublesome patrons. These escorts were given specific guidelines for behavior, such as keeping intoxicated individuals outside, tactfully quieting unruly customers or children, and watching out for potential troublemakers like harassers, deviants, and fools. They were also advised never to flirt with the patrons. In case of any suspicious activity, they were instructed to report immediately to the management.

In the 1950s, as teenagers became the primary audience, responsible youth collaborated with local movie managers to maintain order and discourage disruptive behavior. An editorial in a high school newspaper from 1952 suggested, “When we go to the theater, we should remember that we’re paying for one seat. An inconsiderate person is someone who ruins the movie experience for others by making too much noise.” Essentially, good manners in the cinema were expected of everyone. That same year, a young woman wrote to Colbert Culbert at Photoplay asking if it was acceptable to chat with her boyfriend during the show. Colbert’s response was clear: “It is very poor etiquette for a theater-goer to carry on a conversation, either personal or critical, during the performance.

In today’s world where portable technology is everywhere and there seems to be a decline in public courtesy (let’s not even mention the gym-goers engrossed in their phones on exercise equipment), exhibitors are faced with limited solutions. Before a movie begins, most cinemas now play a Public Service Announcement kindly asking audience members to turn off their devices, but enforcing this is difficult. The issue has become severe enough to motivate one of the year’s most effective promotional items: the “Silence Your Cell Phone” PSA from Deadpool & Wolverine, which conveyed the message in a straightforward manner. If only Wolverine could actually carry out his threat to handle the offender as he usually does.

Without a doubt, it’s inconceivable for any conscientious movie critic to whip out an iPhone or computer during a movie screening to jot down notes, a longstanding tradition in the field that dates back more than a century – specifically, the Top Ten List. The origin of this practice is a matter of debate among several parties. In 1920, the National Board of Review, established in 1909 and still active, set up a Critique Committee “to evaluate films that appear to have exceptional qualities and select a list of outstanding productions.” Each month, they would designate a “Best Bet” in their publication Exceptional Photoplays. The inaugural recipient was Reginald Barker’s Godless Men, a sea-faring adventure produced by Sam Goldwyn.

The Film Daily newspaper, active from 1915 to 1970, is known for being the pioneer of a specific practice in 1921. At first, their selections were made internally, but soon they started inviting submissions from various sources like newspapers, trade publications, and fan magazines. They would then compile these submissions, determine the finalists, and give front-page coverage to them. In 1930, the editors proudly declared that this poll had grown into a nationwide event, made possible through the support of approximately 400 newspaper professionals across the country. That year, Lewis Milestone’s adaptation of Erich Marie Remarque’s anti-war novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, was an obvious choice for the top of the Top Ten list.

1923 saw film critic Mordaunt Hall, writing for the New York Times, narrowing down a list of 10 movies from over 200 films they had reviewed that year. The selected titles included Charles Chaplin’s comedy of manners “A Woman of Paris”, Ernst Lubitsch’s American debut “Rosita”, Thomas Ince’s adaptation of Eugene O’Neill’s play “Anna Christie”, and popular choices such as James Cruze’s western epic “The Covered Wagon” and Wallace Worsley’s take on “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”. This list was compiled to demonstrate that Hall wasn’t only interested in highbrow productions.

After being endorsed by The New York Times, very few city film critics hesitated to participate in the annual year-end assessment. As George Gerhard from the New York Evening World stated in 1930, “By Thanksgiving, cinema enthusiasts start choosing the top ten films of the year.” Studio advertising and publication departments soon took notice of these rankings, along with filmmakers. In 1935, David O. Selznick revealed to The Hollywood Reporter his ambition to create films that would make the cut for both commercial and artistic success on the “ten best” list. MGM proudly announced in 1938 that its film lineup had more selections on the individual nationwide lists of Film Critic’s Ten Best Pictures of the Year than any other studio.

Today, a critic, film society, online platform, and at least one former president perpetuate the tradition for mutual benefits. The release of the list stimulates traffic for the critic, while the film recognized gains prestige and potentially increased viewership. Often, the critics’ selections reveal the divide between the preferences of industry insiders (who receive regular screenings) and average moviegoers (who may have to wait in line at a mall). David O. Selznick’s dream remains the perfect embodiment: a film that appeals to both top critics and reaps commercial and artistic success, as exemplified by “The Best Years of Our Lives” in 1946, “Saving Private Ryan” in 1998, and “Oppenheimer” (2023). This year, only the blockbusters “Wicked” and “A Complete Unknown” appear to have achieved this balance.

2024 saw four standout titles that were particularly favored by critics: The transgender-focused novel “Emilia Pérez” and “Conclave,” and the thought-provoking, sensual works “Anora” and “The Substance.” A genre not typically found in Top Tens had an exceptional year in teen-targeted horror. This subgenre gained momentum thanks to powerful, committed performances by its young female leads: Hunter Schafer in “Cuckoo,” Naomi Scott in “Smile 2,” Maika Monroe in “Longlegs,” and Mia Goth, who completed her trilogy of intergenerational horror with “MaXXXine.

In stark contrast to most films, documentaries had minimal presence on the big screen, save for a notable exception: Matt Walsh’s “Am I Racist?”, which resembled a Michael Moore-style critique of DEI bureaucracy. Critics either overlooked or panned it, illustrating a clear split between highbrow and popular preferences. Interestingly, among all 2024 releases, “Am I Racist?” turned out to be the most prophetic, signaling the upcoming cultural shift – a zeitgeist change in November that many in the film industry resisted but couldn’t prevent. The tale of Hollywood in 2025 will revolve around how effectively it aligns culturally with an audience whose political views it sometimes misses.

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2024-12-27 20:55