I don’t know who knows to read this, but SORRY, BABY was just released! It’s a great film! However! The trailer promises a dramedy about quarter-life relationships and navigating life’s changes because that’s what the trailer promised.
While, yes, it’s partially about that, it’s first and foremost a film about processing the fallout of abuse. While SORRY, BABY handles it with grace and is certainly a film I’d point as a work that can help others understand the personal aftermath of traumatic events, it may trigger the fuck out of you and leave you stunned for days.
I hope that helps prepare anyone, because I certainly wasn’t!
As I write this, FINAL DESTINATION: BLOODLINES is premiering across the U.S., the sixth in an unlikely slasher franchise that has no visible murderer.
Despite having attended a film screening at least once a week this year, I never once saw a trailer for it. I have no idea why Warner Bros. didn’t put a trailer for it before I saw SINNERS, as that too is a Warner Bros. picture. However, they did have an ingenious bloody logging truck driving around to promote the film which was how I found out about it, so they did that right.
I’ve been lamenting to anyone who will listen to me that there are so few ‘dramatic punk’ films now, as compared to the audacious works of the 80s, 90s and naughts. We need more DOOM GENERATIONs! If anything, this list is a celebration of 2024 punk filmmaking because, fuck, we need punk films now more than ever.
So, barely in time for time for the Oscars, in no particular order are my favorite films of 2024:
DRIVE-AWAY DOLLS
I’m disappointed, but not surprised, that Ethan Coen’s latest was overlooked, if not intentionally ignored by most. Is it ramshackle? Yes, but that’s a feature — not a bug. It’s funny, propulsive, often surprising in acts of violence as well of acts of lust. This is an extremely horny, extremely queer road-trip criminal comedy of errors and an utter delight.
I SAW THE TV GLOW
I loved Jane Schoenbrun’s weird, wild head-trip that was WE’RE ALL GOING TO THE WORLD’S FAIR, so I expected her sophmore effort I SAW THE TV GLOW to be a shaggy creepypasta affair.
I SAW THE TV GLOW and it is a head-trip and, yes, facets of it can be considered creepypasta — the reliance on faux-90s TV shows to blend fictional horror with reality — it is mannered instead of shaggy. It’s an emotional character study that can mean so much to so many people but is, first and foremost, a uniquely trans allegory.
CHALLENGERS
Exactly the tense, sizzling, visually inventive sort of sports film you would expect from Luca Guadagnino as in: it’s not really about sports but power dynamics. Sexy power dynamics with the backdrop of sweat-covered tennis provide a rollercoaster of movement and emotions that is only slightly marred by the nausea-inducing closing game shot from the perspective of the tennis ball.
THE PEOPLE’S JOKER
Admittedly, I almost skipped catching when creator Vera Drew brought it to Chicago. In fact, in a first I warned my friend that I might have to remove myself and that they shouldn’t take it personally.
(If you’re wondering why I was concerned? I’ll just leave this here.)
Thankfully my concerns were unfounded and I was able to enjoy this absolutely unbridled mindfuck musing on identity. THE PEOPLE’S JOKER is punk from top-to-bottom, pop culture sharply loudly blended, then vomited into your eyes and ears. It’s a cacophony that resonates in a way that’ll be heard for years to come.
THE SUBSTANCE
Hard to think of an angrier punk film this year than this feminist body horror screed that recalls TETSUO: THE IRON MAN.
THE FALL GUY
Delightful fun. Great, well-lit stunts that aren’t just a muddy blur. Colors! Chemistry! Did I mention the stunts? This should have been the summer movie and I still don’t understand why it wasn’t, because you really missed out if you didn’t see it on the big screen.
NO OTHER LAND
I’m cheating a bit, as I saw this documentary in February but, as it’s self-distributed and I saw it in theaters as soon as possible, I will count it.
Watching Israel upend and destroy the homes of the Palestinian denizens of Masafer Yatta is devastating; footage that few in the US have seen, footage that is difficult to watch, footage that is almost unbelievable.
Worse is seeing the timestamps of the coverage: 2019-2023.
All I could think the entire time was:
“Fuck. This is just the beginning. It gets so worse.”
Honorable Mentions: BETTER MAN; I’M STILL HERE; LOVE LIES CRUSHING
Sampling dialogue from film and TV was a staple of 90s electro/industrial bands. As I was (still am) an avid listener of that genre, there are a number of line readings and deliveries I’ve heard hundreds if not thousands of times without ever been aware of the source material.
That’s why when I’m watching a horror or exploitation film, I’m always delighted when my ears perk up at a familiar line recitation. I finally have true context for the sample and a tiny unsolved mystery from my youth has been solved.
This month was the first time I’d seen THE EXORCIST III — despite the fact that I own it — and I was lucky enough to see a print of it with a packed crowd.
Yes, THE EXORCIST III is skillfully plotted with expertly crafted scares and angles and production design. Yes, it has one of the all-time classic jump scares.
However, what resonated most was hearing George C. Scott’s perfectly paced declaration of beliefs, a declaration I heard many, many times in FRONT LINE ASSEMBLY’s ‘Bio-Mechanic’:
“I believe in disease. I believe in pain… cruelty and infidelity!”
Obviously, with such a memorable, dialogue-driven film, it has been endlessly sampled by other bands such gabber act DELTA 9 and the fittingly named XORCIST. However, it’s Front Line Assembly’s use that has echoed in my head for years, and I organically stumbled upon it on my own.
If it weren’t for the fact that PROM NIGHT featured a post-HALLOWEEN Jamie Lee Curtis, I highly doubt it’d be remembered much at all today. While it’s a serviceable slasher and does what it says on the tin — a whole bunch of students are stalked and killed in their high school on prom night — it does get lost a bit in the deluge of 1980s slashers.
Now, HELLO MARY LOU: PROM NIGHT II? There’s a film that stands out!
I’ll grant you: HELLO MARY LOU was never slated to be a PROM NIGHT sequel, but it featured a prom queen and murder so the studio appended PROM NIGHT II to the title and that was that.
Unlike PROM NIGHT, HELLO MARY LOU is far more supernatural, focused on the death of a 50s prom queen who, let loose in suburban 1987, inhabits bodies to reclaim her crown by any means necessary.
The result is smart and silly, and has inventively surreal set-pieces that rack up the bodies. Oh, and Michael Ironside is a priest! That’s worth the price of admission alone.
HELLO MARY LOU was followed by PROM NIGHT III, which veers into full supernatural slapstick, but I’ve already featured it! Find a copy of both any way that you can!
If you’re in Chicago on October 18th, 2024? HELLO MARY LOU is playing at the Music Box Theatre and features writer Ron Oliver! It promises to be a night to remember!
French arthouse director Claire Denis’s TROUBLE EVERY DAY is a difficult film to classify, to the point where some misguided souls would argue that it’s not a horror film at all. It is enigmatically subdued but violent. Overt and obtuse. Visually lyrical and strikingly blunt to the eyes. Thick with lust and rarely erotic. Alludes to vampirism but is grounded by human faults.
It’s about feeding bloody need, addiction, restriction, seeking and rejecting assistance, and all of the baggage that comes with all of the above.
It is also a highly unpleasant 101 minutes long that culminates in an act that is incredibly difficult to watch. So much so that more than a handful of folks walked out of the screening I attended.
It is considered part of the New French Extremity for a reason. (Also, it does feature INSIDE’s very feral Béatrice Dalle.)
It’s a film that kept stealing my attention for well over a week, its provocations and intent seeping into me, questions and speculations bubbling out. That may seem overwrought and pretentious, but Denis elicited that from me.
SISSY, from writer/directors Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes, is a vivid horror subversion of the ‘reuniting with childhood friends’ genre. Cecilia, a.k.a. Sissy (THE BOLD TYPE’s Aisha Dee) is a self-care influencer who displays the veneer of a calm, crisp, clean and put-together 20-something, but instead lives for the glow of her phone while falling asleep eating day-old room temperature pizza.
While out-and-about, Cecilia runs into estranged childhood best friend Emma (Hannah Barlow) and the two quickly reconnect. Emma invites Sissy to her very queer bachelorette party in a posh vacation home nestled in Australian woodland. Unbeknown to Cecilia, her childhood nemesis Alex is hosting said hen party. Tensions build, matters escalate, bonds and bones are broken and blood is spilled.
I’ll refrain from saying much more as it’s a wild ride, and best to only know the above. That won’t keep me for noting that, visually, SISSY is yet another in a line of refreshingly vibrant and colorful horror films. A large chunk of the film takes place in daylight, when the sun falls the frame is peppered with pastel neon glows. That may seem antithetical to a woodland-based horror/thriller, but it works.
There are also a number of small little grace notes that I love. One of the party members pouring a glass of a wine from a carafe and — without any sense of shame or self-consciousness — licks the trailing remainder from the lip of the carafe! There’s a playful nod towards slashers and face masks!
Lastly, I’ll note that SISSY was Autostraddle’s Queer Horrorscope Film pick for Cancers, so apparently I was pre-ordained to watch it this month. Perhaps a gripping tale about self-justifying self-destructive self-delusion isn’t exactly the kind of messaging one wants to hear from their filmic horrorscope, but it is very on-brand.
Classic Troma films are cheap and fun gross-out affairs by misfits, for misfits, and CLASS OF NUKE ‘EM HIGH is no exception.
The premise is paper thin: Tromaville High School — a typical 80s high school with jocks and nerds and a clutch of cartoonishly costumed gang members named ‘The Cretins’ — is situated next to a nuclear facility.
An accident occurs at the plant and nuclear waste spills into high school. Mutations ensue! An atomic baby-monster is birthed! The Cretins graduate from traditional bullying, drug dealing and deviant behavior to ultra-violent and psychotic behavior! Boyfriend and girlfriend Warren and Chrissy try to survive! Students cheer the shutdown of the school!
It’s a wild time, featuring all of the colorful camp and good-natured buckets of bodily fluids that you’d expect from Lloyd Kaufman’s scrappy DYI studio that brought you THE TOXIC AVENGER.
The Cretins are ostensibly the film’s villains as it’s the nuclear weed that they peddle that is the catalyst for the film’s mayhem, they punch down literally and figuratively, and their makeup and costumes are garish at best and culturally offensive at worse. However, they’re also a warm representation of smart-but-willful societal dropouts.
See, before they were The Cretins they were Tromaville High’s honor students. Now? Now they’re a whirlwind of disrespectful and abnormal behavior with no tolerance for conventional norms, ready to upend the system in every way they can. Body paint, fetish gear, severe piercings and gender fuckery! They’re society’s gremlins and damn proud of it!
I will note that the reason why these honor students became The Cretins is somewhat unclear. I like to think of them as having voluntarily checked out of normative culture and into fringe subcultures, much like myself as a teen.
Do they commit terrible acts, acts that damn them to gruesome deaths? Yeah, sure. Do we still root for them? Well, I certainly took glee in doing so. That’s because, well, at heart? I’m a dirtbag cretin.
Every cineaste has their favorite film festival, Noir City Chicago is mine. When I discovered that the hallmarks of the noir genre weren’t just about ‘broads and heavies’ but about questioning gender roles, marginalized folks and mindsets, misfits and those cast aside, the grey areas of society, it was a revelation.
It helped that the films were always so stylish.
So, yes, of course Noir City Chicago is my favorite film festival. I’ve been attending since its second year — it’s now in its 14th year, as always it’s at the Music Box Theatre — and I always set aside as much of the week as possible to soak in the darkness. The crowds are always great — except that one person I had to nag three times to turn off their cell phone during a rare screening KILLER’S KISS — and Film Noir Foundation heads Eddie Mueller and Alan K. Rode always bookend each screening with fascinating facts and behind-the-scenes details regarding the production.
This year the fest kicks off on September 6th and runs through September 12th and the schedule is exceptional. From classics to THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE to little-seen 3D noirs like INFERNO, I had an extremely difficult time composing my viewing schedule! Below is a guide to some of the fest’s highlights. (If I haven’t included on from the schedule, it’s because it’s new to me!)
THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE
Of all Cain film adaptations, this is my favorite. (Sorry, MILDRED PIERCE.) While difficult to adapt within the restrictions of the Hays Code — hell, the novel just barely made it to print thanks to how lurid it was — director Tay Garnet mostly manages to retain the heat and verve of the text. Leads Lana Turner and John Garfield smolder on the screen, all sweat and burning gazes.
POSTMAN also opens the festival and heralds in the restoration of the Music Box’s main theater! Brand seats — with cupholders — and I’ll be arriving early to lay claim to my favorite place to sit!
OSSESSIONE
THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE has been adapted for the silver screen more than a few times, but OSSESSIONE is an exceptionally gritty Italian take. As I recall — it’s been a while since I’ve had an opportunity to see it — the texture of the locals are exceptional, adding to the sweat and heat and tension of the material.
ODD MAN OUT
Carol Reed’s tale of an Irish nationalist on the run is a classic, with a stellar performance from James Mason and exceptional interplay of urban lamplight and the shadows of the city.
I will admit that it’s one of the few films I’ll be skipping in favor of a lunch break, but that’s solely because I’ve seen it more times than I can count.
THE WINDOW
Yes, THE WINDOW can be boiled down to a ‘boy who cried wolf’ tale — as acknowledged in the Music Box write-up — it’s also about quintessential noir themes, such as ostracized elements needing to be kept at bay, the role of authority figures, and belief and deceit.
LE SAMOURAI
Alain Delon, expertly preserved on film.
INFERNO
A Technicolor 3D noir with the always-engrossing Robert Ryan!
UNION STATION
Chicago’s Union Station — the heart of the city’s railways — is mostly here in name only, and even that name is deceptive as the bulk of the film takes place on a train. Don’t let that deter you though, as it’s thrillingly claustrophobic!
View the full schedule at the Music Box’s site and if you have TCM you can catch Eddie Muller’s weekly noir deep dive: NOIR ALLEY.
When I first heard that Todd Haynes’ film WONDERSTRUCK was centered around two kids living fifty years apart — one in the tail end of the 1930s and the other in the 1970s — I was puzzled. Todd Haynes directing a kid-friendly film? The same Todd Haynes who specializes in adult domestic melodramas like FAR FROM HEAVEN and CAROL? The auteur who garnered a lot of attention with SUPERSTAR where he carved up Barbie dolls to visually portray Karen Carpenter’s anorexia? The Todd Haynes who adapted James M. Cain’s MILDRED PIERCE and really laid into the petulant and monstrous nature of Mildred’s young daughter?!
However, almost immediately all of the Haynes hallmarks are present. Takes place in the 70s? Check. Mommy issues? Check. Daddy issues? Check. Gorgeous, vibrant cinematography? Check. Emotional needle-drops? Check. Scrutiny of personal isolation and rebellion? Check. It is a Haynes film through and through, although it being a family-friendly affair it does lack some of the more mature material Haynes is known for.
WONDERSTRUCK is a tale of two youths: Rose, a young girl living in the tail end of the 1920s and Ben, a young boy in the 1970s. Rose and Ben are running from their single-parent homes, both trekking out into the world in search of their estranged parent. In Rose’s case, she’s seeking out her mother in New York City, performing in a theatre production. Ben? He’s trying to find the father he’s never known, the father his mother never talks about, via a New York City address and phone number buried in a book.
One other facet they share? They’re both deaf.
Rose was born deaf and she spends her days enthralled by silent films. In one scene, Rose exits a movie house and finds herself surrounded by banners broadcasting that the theatre will be temporarily closed while they install equipment to enable them to screen talkies.
It’s a devastating scene as it dawns on you that the world of cinema, of moving pictures, of dialogue spoken through text, of feeling the theater organ’s notes, is an equalizer for Rose. Those around her feel the film the way she experiences life every moment of every day. The advent of talkies destroys that one comfort.
Unlike Rose, Ben is newly deaf. Before running off to NYC, he attempts to call the number on the aged bookmark. Unfortunately, he does so during a thunderstorm. Lightning strikes and shoots through the phone, rendering him deaf, which does not deter him from taking a bus from Minnesota to New York.
What follows for the two of them are wonders and adventures while navigating an imposing and often unfriendly city that bristles at their presence, a metropolis casually hostile to both Ben and Rose’s deafness. While that underscores their loneliness, it also amplifies their drive for comfort and understanding.
While WONDERSTRUCK leans on a lot of symmetry between Ben and Rose’s endeavors, it never feels treacly or forced. Does it contain a number of coincidences and convenient narrative contrivances? Yes, yes it does — it makes NYC feel interconnected in a way that one would find far-fetched in a small town, much less NYC — but it makes sense given the magical manner of Ben and Rose’s intertwined arcs.
WONDERSTRUCK is based on the novel of the same name by Brian Selznick, who also authored of THE INVENTION OF HUGO CABRET which was turned into Martin Scorsese’s similarly kid-centric film HUGO. Selznick also penned the screenplay, which nicely aligns with Haynes’ sensibility and lush and inventive visuals.
Selznick’s book capitalizes on the nature of words and images, dividing Ben and Rose’s journey into one conveyed by text and the other by illustrations. In this adaptation, the divide is portrayed through Rose portrayed in black-and-white, and Ben in color.
Haynes worked with his mainstay cinematography Edward Lachman, who instills a sense of interiority by often blurring Ben’s surroundings. Lachman also takes pains to utilize films stocks that best evokes and recreates the time period, such as the austere latitude of 20s and 30s films, as well as the brilliantly saturated grainy and grimy film stock of the 70s.
Dealing with any fictional portrayal of impairment can be fraught and insensitive at best, exploitative and hurtful at worse. Haynes took measures to handle Ben and Rose’s deafness with grace, not only by forcing his crew to roam around NYC in sound-canceling headphones, but also by casting Millicent Simmonds — a deaf actor — as Rose. Simmonds subtly displays the hurt, the sadness, the pain of not only her physical situation, but also the silent and distant emotional abuse foisted on her by her father. (Simmonds has since gone on to star in A QUIET PLACE and has been a huge booster for deaf advocacy.)
I don’t want to neglect Oakes Fegley as Ben, as he — and socially awkward Jaime (a wide-eyed Jaden Michael) as his aspiring friend — are all arms and legs and restless energy, especially as they chase each other around NYC’s American Museum of Natural History.
While WONDERSTRUCK is quieter than most films for youths, that silence lends an intensity that mesmerizes while possibly imbuing and enlightening those who can hear, and hopefully a balm and comfort for those who are not. While the nature of the material may not at first blush appear to lend itself to a film adaptation, what with the quiet vacuum of the page instead of the rattle and hum of a projector, Haynes and Selznick still manage to work their magic in a different manner.
