Lisa Laman's 97th Academy Awards Nominations Thoughts OR How Do We Challenge Living in Hell?

In the middle of the Conan/Leno Tonight Show fiasco of early 2010, David Letterman had to weigh in. After all, he and Leno had a similar skirmish almost 20 years prior. According to Letterman, "every day I have people come up to me and ask me about this Tonight Show thing." Initially, Letterman planned to stay out of the whole debacle. "I don't have a dog in this fight...Lord knows I've got my own problems," Letterman remarked before taking a pause. Then a wicked grin flashes on his face before he says a few little words: "But I just can't help myself."

Similarly, I really shouldn't even talk about the egregious oversights in this year's Academy Awards nominations. I was talking about award season's hideous exclusion of movies from marginalized perspectives a little over five years ago, after all, and little in the film industry informing those practices has changed. Way smarter people than me have been talking about #OscarsSoWhite for over a decade now. In a week where America's oligarchical fascism is more apparent than ever, when people prepare for ICE raids, as my fellow trans folks advocate for their rights, there are infinitely more important things to do than talk about what did and didn't get Oscar nominations.

But call me Letterman folks, because, well, "I just can't help myself."

The nominations began with the heads of the Academy announcing that this year's Oscars would feature special tributes to first responders, Los Angeles, and the film industry in response to the devastating wildfires. Then, Bowen Yang and Rachell Sennott showed up to announce the nominations proper. Right away, things got off to a horrible start with Clarence Maclin in Sing Sing getting snubbed for Jeremy Strong in The Apprentice. A Different Man getting a Best Makeup and Hairstyling nomination shortly after was cool, but Challengers getting no Best Original Score is insane!!! What the fuck, guys?

Really, the first half of the Oscar nominations were a travesty, a weird reflection of an excellent recent Los Angeles Times piece called "How Hollywood Lost The Culture War." Films about working-class people from around the world (like Hard Truths or All We Imagine as Light) got excluded from Best Original Screenplay, while Emilia Perez (about rich people), A Complete Unknown (about famous musicians), and September 5 (about people occupying a sector of the entertainment industry*) got in. Of course Hollywood lost the culture war if it's lavishing praise on films so out of step with ordinary life. The Seed of the Sacred Fig, I'm Still Here, Hard Truths, All We Imagine as Light, Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World, these films got excluded. Thank God Nickel Boys, Sing Sing, and Anora got into screenplay at least.

Best Documentary Feature nominations I didn't have a problem with, though I have to catch up on Porcelain War. The other four nominees rock, though. Disappointed Kneecap got shut out from Best International Feature and Best Original Song (yay more working-class people got excluded), but at least Sacred Fig and I'm Still Here got in. As the nominations went on, though, it was so frustrating how the same movies just kept getting nominated constantly over and over again. Emilia Perez in Best Sound?? What?? Over titles like Nickel Boys, which made the sound of a marble falling down the stairs incredibly idiosyncratic???

Alien: Romulus and its terrible visual effects (remember that Ian Holm deep-fake) getting into Best Visual Effects is hysterical but yay for Better Man! You will always be famous CG monkey Robbie Williams. Had to laugh at Maria suddenly reviving from the award season grave for Best Cinematography. They just love Pablo Larrain movies in this category! Handing Perez and Maria Best Cinematography nominations over Nickel Boys, though, is an egregious crime worthy of being charged at The Hague. Guys, what the hell? That movie's first-person POV camerawork is integral to the film and groundbreaking in the history of cinema.

Heartbreakingly, All We Imagine as Light got snubbed from the ceremony entirely, another frustrating demonstration of the Oscars excluding cinema from India (remember when RRR, 2022's cultural phenomenon, only got one Oscar nod two years ago?) Light filmmaker Kapadia and Sacred Fig director Mohammad Rasoulof getting snubbed in Best Director in favor of James Mangold for A Complete Unknown and Jacques Audiard for Emilia Perez is so staggeringly miscalculated I can't even comprehend it. Rasoulof had to shoot several Sacred Fig sequences away from his actors in a car just so he could evade getting caught by the authorities, yet he still delivered a pulse-pounding thriller I still can't get out of my brain. If only he'd remembered to fill the movie with musicians Western baby boomers recognize or had a "PENIS TO VAGINA" song.

Ten years ago (God, time goes by too fast), I remember reading an "anonymous" Oscar voter's thoughts on that year's nominations films in The Hollywood Reporter. This person found it impossible to sympathize or grapple the life of Patricia Arquette in Boyhood because she was a working-class ordinary woman in Texas who didn't always do the right thing. Moral complexity, especially in women, confounded this woman. I was thinking of that this morning when Marianne Jean-Baptise's unforgettably captivating Hard Truths work got snubbed in Best Actress. 11 of this year's 20 acting nominees were playing either pre-existing characters (either historical figures or Wizard of Oz figures) and/or people in period pieces. A distinctly original modern-day role like Jean-Baptise's (and one that *GASP* asked audiences to identify with an "unpleasant" woman) just wasn't up to the Academy's tastes this year.

Then we got to the Best Picture nominees, which were bonkers, absolutely bonkers. A Real Pain, All We Imagine as Light, September 5, and Sing Sing got left out of the nomination pool. Instead, the ten nominees were:

Anora
The Brutalist
A Complete Unknown
Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Emilia Pérez
I’m Still Here
Nickel Boys
The Substance
Wicked

Emilia Perez brought its Oscar nominations total to a whopping 13 with a Best Picture nod. Per this Collider piece, that makes it only the 15th movie in history to get 13 or more Oscar nominations. Fun fact: that's four more nominations than the country of Mexico has ever received in the Best International Feature category. Meanwhile, Nickel Boys joined a rare category of films this morning. It's now among the few post-2008 (when the Best Picture category ballooned past five nominees) films to score only one Oscar nomination outside Best Picture. The Blind Side, A Serious Man, Selma, Past Lives, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, and The Post are the only other examples of this phenomenon (that I can find right now) post-2008.

I'm Still Here, meanwhile, is only the second post-2008 foreign language Best Picture nominee financed and produced out of the U.S. (following All Quiet on the Western Front) to get a Best Picture nod but not a Best Director nomination. That's an interesting reversal of the long-standing norm (dating back to the 60s!) where the Academy nominates acclaimed foreign films for Best Director but not Best Picture. Post-2008, two examples of this trend are Cold War and Another Round.

The genuinely exciting sight of Nickel Boys and I'm Still Here making it to Best Picture diluted some of the sting of this ceremony, which was otherwise business as usual for the Academy in the worst ways possible. Two of my three favorite movies of last year (Nickel Boys and Anora) made it into Best Picture and it's surreal a movie with a climax reminiscent of Meet the Feebles like The Substance got into Best Picture. Recent studies have shown that Hollywood has made minimal progress in creating opportunities for marginalized artists over the last 16 years. Ten years since the #OscarsSoWhite campaign began, it also feels like barely anything has changed. Only four of the 20 acting nominees were actors of color. Across ten screenplay nominees, only three had women screenwriters. No women-directed films appeared in Best International Feature Film while women of color continue to get excluded from Best Director. 

Emilia Perez, meanwhile, got 13 Oscar nominations while a slew of films from trans directors in 2024 went unrecognized. This happened a year after D. Smith's masterful Kokomo City didn't even make the SHORTLIST for Best Documentary Feature at the 96th Academy Awards. A little over five years ago, Honey Boy helmer Alma Har'el said it best when the Golden Globes excluded women filmmakers:

 "They’re immersed in this perpetuated activity of basking in male excellence and overseeing this whole new world we’re trying to build with new voices of women and people of color being part of the conversation...they don’t pay attention to new voices or value them in the same way they value men they are familiar with...our perspectives are the future of cinema. Do not make politically and financially driven award shows be the endgame of your career. Stop looking for justice at award shows. Connect with audiences. Build communities. Take your power back.”

The Oscars have failed us and will continue to fail us as long as they're tied to the troubled film industry and capitalism. It's totally okay to feel crushed about that given how much influence this ceremony has on what gets released and financed globally. However, Har'el said it best, we must not look to the Oscars "for justice." A genuine congratulations to Karla Sofia Gascon for making history as the first openly trans-acting Oscar nominee, ditto the modern classics like Anora, Nickel Boys, and I'm Still Here that will represent genuinely challenging and sublime cinema at the Oscars. Also, I just had a good time watching Wicked, so I'm glad it was "popular" enough to score some love.

Right now, though, allow me to shout "THIS IS BULLSHIT" put positivity into the world and spotlight some trans-centric films that are actually interested in trans existence (only three of them are helmed by cis-filmmakers). Because these films don't cater to white cis-het sensibilities, they've been overlooked by the Oscars, so now you can discover them as amazing cinematic gems. Let's go spread and champion art that actually reflects the world and cinema's limitless possibilities.

The films I'm spotlighting today are:

Cowboys

Drunktown's Finest

Lingua Franca

Stress Positions

Tangerine

The People's Joker 

I Saw the TV Glow

So Long Suburbia

Joyland

By Hook or By Crook

Kokomo City

Two quick notes:

Rachel Sennott and Bowen Yang did make me laugh constantly while announcing the nominations, they were so clearly running on caffeine and jitters and it was so endearing. Sennott's "Alt-comedy is like the comedy scene except for gay men and women" line was perfect, what an icon. 

* = No, not everyone in Hollywood is a rich person living in a mansion, obviously. 99% of the people making a living in Los Angeles are working-class people. However, the Oscars have a history of preferring films related to the entertainment industry in any way over folks from other walks of life.

What Am I Thankful For in the World of Movies in 2024?

2024 has been a difficult year. Nobody would disagree with that. As we stare down the barrel of another year finished, it's hard to scream with joy over the last 12 months. Yet, if you're reading this, then like me, you've made it. And that's worth celebrating. We've all gotten through an incredibly arduous year and we should relish that. We're all here for each other and, while that's not enough to erase the pain of the modern world, it doesn't hurt either. As a movie geek, I'm also incredibly thankful for how cinema has once again been a balm for the soul in another challenging year.

Since it's Thanksgiving week, how about we do eschew a typical review and look at things from 2024's world of cinema that we should all be grateful for? I think Film Critic Hulk used to do Thanksgiving-oriented "giving thanks" pop culture pieces for Birth Movies Death back in the day. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading my 2024 cinematic "thankfulness" as much as I enjoyed reading his words.

What am I thankful for in movies in 2024? Let's begin with...

THE TEXAS THEATER

The Texas Theater is an absolute gift of a cinematic exhibition space. I don't think there's a better theater in the Dallas/Fort Worth area in terms of the picture quality they provide. Even digitally projected features just look so darn crisp through whatever projection technology they use here. Getting to attend the Dallas International Film Festival at this location (among other nearby exhibition spaces) was a joy, ditto seeing titles like The People's Joker in this domain. They also added a video rental store into the Texas Theatre that's such a hoot to walk through, I especially love all the old posters and standees populating the floor space. They make every inch of space in that Dallas landmark (don't forget they recently added an upstairs screening room!) and it's a joy to witness that ingenuity.

Oh, and I got to know some of the folks connected to the Texas Theatre and its programming thanks to me doing interviews for Dallas Observer and IndieWire pieces. That was also a joy, they're such amazing people!

QUEER-FRIENDLY POETRY READING

Deviating from film for one entry, I do want to shout out The Wild Detectives, a bookstore in Bishop Arts that hosted a live poetry reading event on November 13, 2024. Caroline Earleywine was in attendance and gosh, what a wonderful writer! She's a great public speaker and her words really helped me unlock emotions I didn't feel like I had the space to truly explore in the previous eight days. After she read a slew of amazing poems from her various poem collections, local poets (many of them queer!) got up to read striking collections of words (several of which were written by the readers themselves!) that truly touched my soul. It was a glorious space to be in, especially so soon after the presidential election. Here was a little isolated pocket from the rest of the world where we had each other's backs. That's the power of communal art experiences!

MOVIES THAT DIDN'T PLAY BY THE RULES

Thank God for Hundreds of Beavers, Anora, The People's Joker, Nickel Boys, and other exceptional 2024 movies that dared to subvert various cinematic hallmarks. Whether it was what angles cameras are supposed to capture movies through, the kinds of people motion pictures focus on, or even the idea that modern films need to rely on dialogue, these movies followed their own artistic spirits, not conventional norms. We need that kind of art now more than ever!

BIG DANCE SEQUENCES

Watching Wicked and Better Man within a few days of each other reminded me that I just love big song-and-dance numbers in movies! That's why titles like Singin' in the Rain or The Music Man were some of my favorite movies growing up, I love when people are doing incredible dance choreography in addition to belting out amazing tunes. So many modern movie musicals eschew dancing in favor of just focusing on the singing. Not Wicked and Better Man! Thanks to these titles for reminding me of one of my favorite cinematic sights and providing the kind of grand spectacle I once worried would never come back to movie theaters after COVID-19 shut down multiplexes. I can't wait for people to discover the bouncy and visually audacious "Rock DJ" in Better Man, it's such a treat.

TRANS CINEMA IS NOT DEAD, IT'S SURELY ALIVE

Thank you to trans directors like Vera Drew, Theda Hammel, and Jane Schoenbrun for continuing to make new exciting movies in 2024, a year where politicians based entire campaigns around dehumanizing trans folks. Corporations like Disney have responded to these political developments by, naturally, removing trans-centric episodes of children's television from circulation. Like D. Smith's incredible Kokomo City from last year, Drew, Hammel and Schoenbrun gave a big middle finger to America's default tendency towards trans erasure in exciting ways. 

BONDING WITH OTHERS THROUGH MOVIES

I love how often movies bring me closer to other people. When I'm waiting in line for a motion picture screening at a film festival, I can chat and make friends with people also patiently yearning for our show to start. Showing my friends Hundreds of Beavers and Mad Max: Fury Road, meanwhile, was an amazing experience, it was so unspeakably thrilling to see them get immersed in these movies I know like the back of my hand. Motion pictures are a rich artform on their own merits. However, I especially adore the way they can turn strangers into friends and strengthen bonds between people. That's been the impetus behind art since its creation. It was always such a privilege to bear witness to and participate in that phenomenon this year.

I'm grateful for movies. I'm grateful for friends. I'm grateful that none of us are alone in this wild world. I'm grateful for YOU, dear reader. Enjoy your Thanksgiving week, gobble up lots of rolls for me, and hey, maybe check out your local independent theater if you have time. You never know what kind of magic the silver screen will provide.

Good One/The Grand Budapest Hotel Reviews

Writer/director India Donaldson makes a quiet but impactful feature-length directorial debut with Good One. This 2024 Sundance and Cannes darling dares to take a sympathetic gaze towards a type of person cinema usually villainizes....teenage girls. This demographic is usually rendered on-screen with mockery not humanity. In Good One, though, Sam (Lily Collias) is the story's anchor. Her perspective, constant use of a cell phone, and dubious attitude toward adult men around her are treated with empathy. Her point-of-view is explored in a story concerning Sam going on a multi-day hike with her father Chris (James Le Gros) and his long-time best friend Matt (Danny McCarthy). 

These two are always sniping at each other while Chris never seems to be satisfied with his daughter.  The tension between the trio is realized in a nicely subdued fashion, with Donaldson often eschewing a score or grandiose editing flourishes in the most uncomfortable moments between these people. Awkward gritty reality is enough to instill unease in one's stomach. There is, however, a beautiful score from composer Celia Hollander underpinning exterior shots in Good One making use of very classical instruments like a harp or flute. These tracks sound like they could've easily been ripped from a 1960s movie, they're so soothing and gentle. 

These melodies represent a larger soothing world that Chris and Matt keep intruding on with their nonsense. Within just 89 minutes, Donaldson got me totally invested in Sam's plight, a feat that also comes down to the terrific work from Lily Collias. With her aloof line deliveries and suppressed exterior, Sam is a realistic portrait of many teenage girls. She's also (conceptually) a tough character for an actor to get a hold on. Going too big with Sam would undercut this figure tremendously. Collias maintains a subdued composure that's just as authentic as it is engaging. There's still such pain or irritation peeking out from the corners of her physicality. With this absorbing performance, it's no wonder Good One gets such remarkable cinema out of the kind of person most movies ignore outright.

Music by John Williams/ I Like Movies Reviews

2024 has seen the unveiling of many very distinctive documentaries (Black Box Diaries, Union, Daughters, Seeking Mavis Beacon, Sugarcane). Recently debuting on Disney+ courtesy of Lucasfilm, Music by John Williams is, in contrast, a very standard modern celebrity documentary. It's the kind of glossy biopic about a famous rich person who currently dominates the streaming marketplace. Everything's very tidy, nothing too scandalous or form-breaking hits the screen. In this case, director Laurent Bouzereau brings viewers down a largely chronological look at the most iconic scores Williams ever composed. Along the way, there are non-linear digressions into more personal matters tied to Williams, such as his childhood, relationship with his oldest daughter, and symphony conductor exploits,. and more.

One strange shortcoming of Music by John Williams is the disappointing lack of other major film composers interviewed in the inevitable talking-head segments. Thomas Newman and Alan Silvestri (the only two composers who've ever created scores for Spielberg movies) are the only other major film composers interviewed here. Where are the figures who can really shed light on how Williams impacted their craft? Surely Michael Giacchino, Tamar-kali, James Newton Howard, and others have thoughts on Williams. Also, the lack of non-male interview subjects is tremendously disappointing. You can call me nuts, but I'd imagine Hildur Guðnadóttir. Natalie Holt, and Kathryn Bostic might have more to say on the world of film composers than Seth MacFarlane or Chris Martin!

Those complaints (as well as the production's rigid adherence to a standard structure) aside, Music by John Williams is a genuinely pleasant experience. It helps that so much of the screentime is dedicated to the warm rapport shared between Steven Spielberg and Williams. The two have such an immediate warm affection for each other carved over 50 years of creative collaborations. It's so much fun to witness them bounce off one another. Meanwhile, hearing Williams just talk about his approach to various film scores really is transfixing. It's just fascinating to hear the level of thought he put into scores that are now part of the global musical lexicon. 

All those iconic melodies started out as notes on a sheet of paper. Letting Williams describe what inspired that process is the greatest attribute of music by John Williams. It also doesn't hurt that the film has an infectiously exciting interview with the always endearing Ke Huy Quan. How can you go wrong with him? Music by John Williams is unfortunately too derivative of the endless wave of celebrity documentaries crowding the media landscape, but it contains charms for film geeks like yours truly. Anything that gets me remembering how excellent Catch Me If You Can's score is can't be half-bad.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Major props to writer/director Chandler Levack for committing to a deeply unlikeable character like I Like Movies protagonist Lawrence (Isaiah Lehtinen) for her first-ever feature-length movie. This is a tricky character to nail down and diving into the deep end with Lawrence shows creative chutzpah on her part. Lawrence, for the record, is a High School senior in the early 2000s obsessed with movies, himself, and getting into New York University. He's impossible to get along with, but he does have some inspired ideas for improving things at his new job at the local Sequels video store. Here, he bonds with manager Alan (Romina D'Ugo) while growing more distant from his previously tight-knit pal Matt Macarchuck (Percy Hynes White).

Levack does end up biting off a mite more than she can chew with her screenplay's protagonist. I Like Movies has a very realistic rendering of a self-absorbed film geek teenager and the unflinching nature of that is admirable. Certainly, as a lifelong film geek who saw Before Midnight in theaters as a 17-year-old, I was more like Lawrence at his age than I'd care to admit! Still, the more traditional narrative path of the third act doesn't quite fit with the rest of I Like Movies. Lawrence is such a specific, atonal character. Sending him down a standard storytelling route in the feature's home stretch feels disappointing. Compare this to Owen Kiline's Funny Pages, which also followed a deeply unlikeable teenage male artist but refused to follow tidy or cathartic narrative conventions.

For the most part, though, I Like Movies is a charming chronicle of Canadian teenage life in the early 2000s. The deeply lived-in performances are especially terrific, with D'Ugo standing out the most as the fascinatingly messy and raw Alana. Levack, meanwhile, demonstrates a solid grasp of visually executing awkward humor with her blocking and use of the film's claustrophobic aspect ratio. The messiest parts of I Like Movies also effectively tap into the ceaseless intertwining pain of growing up and existence. Life is so full of tears, uncomfortable encounters, and dashed expectations. Thank God we have movies to soften the blow.

It's What's Inside/The Young Woman and the Sea Review

 The worst people you know just found a body-swap device. Specifically, the cocky financially well-off people assembling for Reuben's (Devon Terrell) pre-wedding party have stumbled onto such a device. This crew includes more likeable protagonist Shelby (Brittany O'Grady), her jerk boyfriend Cyris (James Morosini), and Forbes (David W. Thompson), the latter of whom has brought this revolutionary machinery to the party. This shindig soon orients around everyone switching into different people’s bodies and trying to figure out who has stumbled into whose fleshy coil.

Of course, this being a horror movie, It’s What’s Inside is full of twists, turns, and unpredictable chaos. Writer/director Greg Jardin (making his feature film directorial debut after helming various shorts and music videos) leans into the loopy with this premise. Inside is full of rapid-fire editing that would make Edgar Wright proud and super colorful streaks of light fill up Reuben’s domicile. It’s a visually maximalist enterprise full of alternatively vengeful, horny, and manic energy. That doesn’t make for a fully cohesive motion picture. However, those ingredients do make It’s What’s Inside reasonably fun to watch while it unfolds, kind of like 2019’s Netflix horror film The Perfection.

Once it’s finished, It's What's Inside’s more generic impulses begin to weigh more on the brain, ditto its penchant for eye-roll-worthy “edgy” dialogue. Still, there's some enjoyable thrills here, especially for a nice Halloween-themed viewing. The best part of the proceedings is watching these actors play so many different personalities in just 103 minutes! David W. Thompson especially excels in contorting his facial expressions to immediately create a whole new person. O'Grady also does strong work immediately establishing a firm, discernible personality to protagonist Shelby in It's What's Inside's opening scenes that’s extremely fun to see other actors mimic. Maybe there is some upside to the worst people finding a body-swap device after all…

 

Hollywood couldn’t quite make Mark Hamill and Hayden Christensen work as live-action leading men. That’s no reflection on the talents of the two men, considering Hamill is an iconic voice-over artist and Christensen crushed it in 2003’s Shattered Glass. However, they would freely admit themselves that they never became Leonardo DiCaprio or Denzel Washington-level movie stars after headlining multiple Star Wars movies. Perhaps Hollywood assumed the same thing would inevitably befall Daisy Ridley after she played Rey in the sequel trilogy. However, Young Woman and the Sea is a great reminder that, holy cow, she’s so talented as a leading lady.

In another era, Ridley could’ve easily become a silent movie icon. Like Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd, or Janet Gaynor, Ridley has immediately transfixing facial expressions that get you engaged with her characters. Much like with classic F.W. Murnau protagonists or silent cinema leads, one look at Ridley and you instantly sympathize with whatever fictional role she’s playing. It’s a great gift that Hollywood desperately needs to utilize more. At least Young Woman and the Sea nicely plays on this gift for a solid inspirational sports drama. Here, Ridley plays real-life icon Gertrude Ederle, a woman swimmer in the 1920s determined to beat the misogynistic odds and swim the English Channel.

Nothing in Young Woman and the Sea is very surprising, but it’s also a deeply pleasant affair buoyed by sincerity. Director Joachim Rønning doesn't suffocate the proceedings in snark, but rather embraces making a feel-good sports movie like Cool Runnings for a new generation. The bond between Trudy and her sister Meg (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) is also nicely-realized, their chummiest moments of laughing by the fireplace or working to make a new swimsuit are just so sweet. Shout out too to composer Amelia Warner, in one of her first feature film scoring assignments (following 2020's bananas bonkers Wild Mountain Thyme). She delivers some truly rousing compositions that often effectively evoke James Newton Howard's epic Dinosaur tracks. The sheer magnitude of these swimming shenanigans are nicely communicated through her orchestral works.

Then, of course, there’s Daisy Ridley, doing superbly engaging work in the lead role. Even when Young Woman and the Sea gets bogged down in predictable plot beats or an overuse of sickening light blue color grading, Ridley remains captivating. She’s what really makes Young Woman and the Sea worth a watch for sports movie fans.

 

 

Do you like Lisa Laman’s reviews? Check out more examples of her professionally published work on her portfolio site and don’t forget, she’s a freelance writer that is available to write for YOUR website! Just reach out to her at her portfolio at the link above! 

Underrated Summer 2024 Movies You Need to See

Well, summer 2024 has come to a close. Another season of moviegoing has closed out, this time defined by the return of emotions, a foul-mouthed merc, and Nicolas Cage singing in the snow. With this season firmly in the rearview, it's clear what the biggest movies of the summer were. But what about the underrated titles of summer 2024? This is, after all, not just a season dominated by a handful of features making $1+ billion with ease. There are also smaller arthouse titles or even blockbusters worthy of your time and attention. Before the award season landscape swallows us all up whole, let's take a look back at the most underrated summer 2024 movies that you still need to see, along with information on where you can watch them now (either in streaming, premium-video-on-demand retailers, or theaters).

Here's to the rest of the year and watching movies on the big screen!

Furiosa: A Mad Max Story

George Miller returned to the Wasteland for Furiosa: A Mad Max Story and this genius filmmaker didn't just do a standard Hollywood origin story for Fury Road's big breakout character. Instead, he made a grand epic about what it takes to survive the unspeakable. Often heartbreakingly intimate, Furiosa had grand imagery to spare and a dazzling dedication to subverting expectations. This was no Fury Road retread, which is the greatest thing you could say about a prequel.

Available on Max

Ghostlight

Tears will be shed when you sit down to watch Ghostlight, which starts on an undeniably wobbly note with too ambiguous character motivations and potentially overly arch performances. As the film finds its groove, though, it becomes a deeply moving exploration of using art to cope with pain. 

Now streaming on AMC+

Kill

Some of the very best action sequences of 2024 thus far were confined to a train in this excellent feature. Kill had executed slaughters with aplomb while its filmmaking demonstrated real craftiness in wringing visual versatility out of limited spacing (everything in this movie takes place on a handful of train cars). 

Available on PVOD

Dandelion

KiKi Layne is a movie star and deserves more lead roles. The quietly touching country music yarn Dandelion nicely reflects her many gifts as a performer and reveals she's also got a great voice. Combine all that with soothing autumn-tinged backdrops and Dandelion's a deeply enjoyable watch.

Available on PVOD

Kneecap

The music biopic has a new gold standard in quality. Kneecap chronicles the exploits of an Irish rap group (all three members play themselves here) in a movie bursting with anarchy and rebellion. There's so much energy wafting off the screen, it's impossible not to get caught up in the chaos. Also, there are lots of great toe-tapping tunes in this one you won't get out of your head.

Now playing in theaters

Strange Darling

Rarely have I felt so disconnected from Letterboxd users than seeing folks mocking Strange Darling's opening text declaring that it was shot entirely on 35mm. For me, that's a fantastic way to kick off a motion picture rendered with such gorgeous photography and delightfully transfixing non-linear storytelling. Come for the 35mm camerawork, stay for Willa Fitzgerald's mesmerizing leading lady turn.

Now playing in theaters

Sing Sing

One of the best movies of the year (not just summer 2024), Sing Sing is all about restoring humanity to people often denied basic decency. Anchored by an outstanding Colman Domingo performance and turns from real-life former Sing Sing inmates, Sing Sing is an emotionally mesmerizing work. In a season of expansive explosions and massive fight scenes, the most captivating sequences in summer 2024 cinema were Sing Sing's quiet depictions of human beings just talking and trying to connect with one another.

Now playing in theaters

Alien: Romulus starts strong but loses its guts along the way

Oh, what a crushing experience it is to watch a movie lose itself. When features start with so much potential before concluding on such a middling note, it's heartbreaking. So many cinematic promises left unfulfilled! "We were on the verge of greatness, we were this close!" as one Orson Krennic once declared. Alien: Romulus is an unfortunately egregious case of this phenomenon in gooey action. An enthralling and thematically compelling first act gives way to a standard modern sequel chock full of fan service. Good news for us Alien fans though: much like Rick Blaine will always have Paris, we'll always have those impressive early Romulus sequences.

Romulus begins on a Weyland-Yutani mining planet where the sun never shines. Ash fills the air, despair is everywhere, and protagonist Rain Carradine (Cailee Spaeny) is desperate to leave. Just as she thinks she's secured enough work hours to leave this place, she gets a devastating shock. The Weyland-Yutani corporation has increased the workload she needs to reach before she can exit the planet. "Weyland-Yutani thanks you for your hard work," a dry bureaucrat informs her while delivering this horrific news. She and her android/surrogate brother Andy (David Jonsson) need another way off the planet. The script by Fede Alvarez and Rodo Sayagues (the former of whom also directs) gives them a ticket out through a scheme hatched by their friend Tyler (Archie Renaux). He and some other young denizens of the planet are going to sneak aboard a ship that's just hovering in the planet's atmosphere. Once they get onboard, they can go wherever they like.

The most inspired touch in Romulus is how it extends the franchise's contempt for corporations. After all, all the mayhem of the first Alien occured thanks to the Weyland-Yutani corporation ordering android Ash (Ian Holm) to retrieve the Xenomorph without caring what happened to the human employees. Corporate greed and a disdain for working-class lives have always informed this franchise's horrors. Here in Romulus, inaccessibility to upward economic mobility inspires a risky mission to an abandoned ship. Desperation is the underlying motivator of every on-screen action.

Meanwhile, the disdain most human characters wield for android Andy intriguingly reflects how the working class often creates proletariat hierarchies rather than unite as one. In the face of capitalism's horrors, too often everyday workers seek out other ordinary souls they can feel superior to. If one can't take down the big bosses actually making their lives miserable, they can create another social hierarchy that puts them "on top". This informs toxic perceptions that "immigrants" or "trans people" are really at fault for woes rooted in matters like unequal wealth distribution. That's a fascinating idea to translate into a sci-fi setting and especially into an Alien movie. These humans can't stop using Andy as a tool to give themselves brief bursts of "power" in a world they have no hope of controlling. Moments of humans othering Andy instead of embracing him echo the Alien saga's ethos while also delivering something discernibly new to its thematic tapestry. 

Alien: Romulus also looks incredible under Alvarez's direction and cinematography from Galo Olivares. Though the proceedings sometimes lean too heavily on darkness (even for a movie set on a planet with no sunshine!), there's a tactility to their images that's incredibly welcome. That element is undoubtedly aided by solid production design work ensuring Romulus occupies a world of grimy tangibility, not green-screen artifice. What light does enter the screen emerges in such an interestingly precise way while an emphasis on wide shots allows moviegoers plenty of opportunities to soak in grand images. Alien: Romulus looks incredibly crisp...which makes it such a shame when the script starts going off the rails.

Without delving into spoilery specifics, a mid-movie plot turn connected to the original Alien suddenly thrusts Alien: Romulus into the dreaded territory of a modern blockbuster sequel too overly concerned with franchise mythos. From there, distinctive character personalities vanish in favor of action beats, expository dialogue, and entire lines of dialogue either echoing or outright repeating earlier Alien installments. Alien: Romulus starts off with a bang because of a willingness to differentiate itself from its predecessors. Elements like younger protaganists or emphasizing capitalistic hierarchies suggest this Alvarez feature will be more than just Aliens redux. Alas, that potential slowly deflates away as Romulus becomes most interested in reminding viewers of the past.

It doesn't help matters that the bigger frightening set pieces are hit-or-miss, though there are some undeniably creative high points. A terrific sequence chronicling our leads trying to walk through a room crawling with Facehuggers is dreadfully suspenseful. Alvarez channels lots of energy from his 2016 feature Don't Breathe for this scene and that influence works quite nicely. Emphasizing excellent practical effects work for the Xenomorphs also lends these creatures a discernible ominous presence. There's such believable weight and texture to these beasties, they're truly an impressive feat from the visual effects crew. Other times, though, not even cool practical effects can compensate for the script's generic jump-scares. Too many of the scares in Romulus are serviceable, but nowhere near nightmare-inducing.

Alien: Romulus is an endlessly frustrating movie. Nowhere is this better exemplified than in its overall clumsy social commentary. Conceptually, this feature is all about the dangers of putting corporations first. Key Romulus aspects like that suffocating mining colony planet or an antagonistic character justifying their actions by saying "it's for the good of the company" exemplify this. Yet the distracting fan service in Romulus, not to mention its dedication to not subverting too many Alien franchise norms, reeks of modern corporate blockbusters. Alien: Romulus is very much a Disney Alien movie, though not in the sense that it has princesses singing to birds or toxic right-wing interpretations of what "Disney" means this month. Instead, Romulus adheres to the modern Disney blockbuster mold (see: Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, the 2022 Hellraiser remake, any of the live-action animated movie remakes) of merely gesturing at loftier progressive ideas, lots of fan service, removing any traces of sex (no naked push-ups here or men kissing here), and building on the bold creativity of other artists. 

The jagged "I'll do the fingering" edges of earlier messy installments like Alien: Romulus are gone. In their place are hollow reminders of the past, including regurgitating one of the most iconic Alien franchise lines. These inescapable symbols of the larger Mouse House empire leave the Romulus political commentary hollow. It's hard to chastize corporations while also reeking of a corporate monopoly. Without that element in play, audiences are left with a rudimentary entry sci-fi horror film. Great cinematography and committed performances from actors like David Jonsson (between this and Rye Lane, Jonsson's becoming a star to always watch out for) can't erase the emptiness ultimately permeating this project. Oh well, at least the first act of Alien: Romulus is strong, even if that dynamite opening just reinforces how weak the rest of the production is.

Trap Is Shyamalan Operating In Agreeable Dark Comedy Mode

M. Night Shyamalan's first two 2020s movies were unquestionably made as direct responses to a world rattled by COVID-19. Both Old and Knock at the Cabin were grim projects following characters isolated from the rest of the world coping with the inescapable specter of death haunting families. Old especially evoked the days of COVID lockdowns with its younger characters wistfully talking about how they'll never get to experience events like prom or graduation. Meanwhile, Knock at the Cabin had its leads watching as the world unraveled through their television set, much like all of us frantically checking and rechecking COVID-19 statistics on our phones in August 2020. These were brutal thrillers channeling the apocalyptic vibes and inescapable mortality informing the earliest years of this decade.

By contrast, Shyamalan's latest feature Trap is a respite from those earlier titles. After his immersion into darker projects ruminating on how death comes for us all, Shyamalan wants to do something more enamored with dark comedy. This isn't a title about family units gradually succumbing to mortality. Instead, Trap is meant to make audiences go "ooooooh!" at big plot developments and revel in its silliness. Shyamalan's post-2022 excitement even extends to Trap's central locale of a concert. With COVID filming restrictions eased or outright eliminated, this filmmaker can finally shoot interior crowd scenes again! He doesn't have to confine his actors to a beach or cabin anymore! These qualities offer something new for 2020s Shyamalan. They also inform a movie that's entertaining more often than not.

Cooper Adams (Josh Hartnett) on the surface looks like a normal dad, especially with how excited he is to take his daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) to see pop star sensation Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan). While at the concert, though, Cooper notices a lot of police and extra security systems in place. Cooper quickly realizes that the FBI knew that local serial killer The Butcher was going to be at this concert and they've set up a trap here to catch this monster. Little does anyone realize that Cooper is actually The Butcher and he's not going down without a fight. As he tries to ensure Riley has the best day ever at Lady Raven's show, this psychopath also does everything in his power to throw the authorities off his trail. The Butcher is cornered, but he's not down and out, not by a long shot.

Shortly after Cooper discovers this movie's titular "trap", he returns to his seat with his daughter. Suddenly, right in the aisle next to them, a trap door opens and a "surprise" fictional singer appears. This entrance remains open for an inordinate amount of time, which inspires Cooper to suggest to Riley that they should head down there and explore the stadium's underground area. During every second of this exchange, I could only think to myself "there's no way they'd place that trap door there." Just creating a sudden giant void in a crowd of screaming fans with no guardrails in sight, that's a lawsuit waiting to happen! It's a totally preposterous element of Trap's universe. It's also one of those distinctively ridiculous elements only the writer/director behind "you know what gets a bad rap? Hot dogs" and the character name Mid-Sized Sedan would conjure up.

Trap's greatest ridiculous moments contain enough of those idiosyncracies to register as charming rather than lazy or irritating. Making the innate silliness of the proceedings go down easily is the darkly humorous atmosphere. Some of Shyamalan's worst movies are total dreary slogs like Lady in the Water or After Earth. Here, dashes of grim zest pop up throughout the runtime playing on Cooper being Hannibal Lecter in disguise as Ned Flanders. A sight gag involving a side character unassumingly handing this man a pair of box cutters, for instance, is quite amusing. A later set piece involving Cooper watching over a crowd of police getting a brief on The Butcher is similarly humorous.

These jokes and all of Trap work especially well thanks to Shyamalan's precise visual sensibilities. Working with cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom, Trap's camerawork isn't afraid to linger on a shot or engage in deeply precise blocking. After a summer of so many stagnantly framed blockbusters, it felt good to see a split-diopter on the big screen again! Especially interesting in the camerawork is how Shyamalan often just plops viewers into the POV of Cooper without any foreshadowing. It's a great abrupt trait that immediately sets you at unease. Are we being put into his eyeballs because some carnage is about to unfurl? It's a terrific subtle detail. There's also a third-act gag involving the camera swerving to the right to emphasize a piano that's so perfectly timed (shout-out also to editor Noëmi Preiswerk on that front). The 35mm images of Trap go a long way to making this such a fun cheeky outing.

Even with all these virtues and an impressively bravura Josh Hartnett lead performance at its back, Trap is still, ultimately, a messy movie in some key respects. This is a feature thriving on recurring Shyamalan traits like detailed camerawork or well-structured suspense sequences. It also, unfortunately, succumbs to recurring problems scattered throughout his filmography. Trap's final 30 minutes, for instance, ehco Old in lathering on too much exposition that answers questions the audience likely doesn't care about. Meanwhile, Shyamalan's former go-to composer James Newton Howard (the duo last worked together on After Earth) is still deeply missed. Herdís Stefánsdóttir's, reuniting with Shyamalan after Knock at the Cabin, compositions aren't bad, they just lack an extra dose of oomph. Her tracks tragically can't evade the lasting sonic legacy of Shyamalan and Howard's greatest collaborations on films like Signs and Unbreakable. 

Most frustratingly, this is yet another Shyamalan movie with a disabled villain. This time, Cooper is defined heavily by his OCD. Following Unbreakable, The Visit, Split, Old, and other films, Shyamalan's employment of "disabled=villain" is so predictable and that's the one thing a thriller can never afford to be. Trap is clearly imperfect, but it's also a hoot to watch unfold. Even as an Old defender, it's fun to witness Shyamalan in a better and lighter mood with his latest feature. Trap isn't exactly a chart-topper, but it's still a cinematic melody with some incredibly fun flourishes. 

Twisters Nails The Storm Chasing But Its Human Drama Leaves Something To Be Desired

As a budding film geek, I loved 90s disaster movies. VHS tapes of Independence Day, Mars Attacks!, and Armageddon captured my imagination with their mixture of epic destruction and patently (and, admittedly, more than a little naive) 90s optimism. The new film Twisters harkens back to that era, an appropriate frame of reference given that its predecessor Twister was a key part of the 90s disaster movie boom. Given that this Lee Isaac Chung directorial also features a soundtrack chock full of country music (a music genre I was obsessed with as a youngster) and many actors I adore (Katy O'Brian, what a legend!), Twisters should've left me blown away. 

Yet, no matter how many trucks revved up in the dirt or storms blew off the roofs of houses, Twisters often left me cold. Sometimes, coming back home isn't a flawless stroll down memory lane.

Mark L. Smith's Twisters script begins with a prologue following Oklahoma storm chaser Kate Cooper (Daisy Edgar-Jones) tracking down a big storm to test proposed technology that could stop a tornado. This mission goes awry and the massive tornado gulps up her dear friends and lover. Five years later, she works as a meteorologist in bustling New York City. She's left that old life behind until best friend Javi (Anthony Ramos) reaches out to her with a proposition. Cooper's wits are needed back home in the service of technology that, in theory, could help map out tornadoes and save future lives. No more dear friends or relatives would have to die. Cooper relents and comes back to the place she left behind, which is now dominated by cocky YouTube storm chasers like Tyler Owens (Glen Powell) and his motley crew of redneck thrill-seekers.

With historically bad tornados bearing down on Oklahoma, the science project that spurred Cooper's fateful traumatic day is about to become more important than ever. Owens and Cooper couldn't hate each other more if they tried. However, the time has come to put aside differences, evade those storms, and confront long-simmering fears.

Typically, when an indie movie veteran transitions to blockbuster filmmaking, their fingerprints are most evident on the movie's intimate sequences. Comedy movie veteran Elizabeth Banks, for example, showed solid chops executing visual gags in Charlie's Angels. However, she seemed lost handling generic action sequences. Jon Watts, meanwhile, channeled his 2015 directorial effort Cop Car in a deeply suspenseful automobile ride in Spider-Man: Homecoming, while the big action set-pieces didn't resonate with his personality. Chung's work on Twisters is a rare exception to that rule. Though the tornado-heavy sequences don't echo the man's Minari filmmaking, they display plenty of confidence and visual precision. There's a specificity to the execution of massive stormy chaos that's commendable for an artist relatively new to feature-length tentpoles (though Chung did cut his teeth on two different Star Wars shows).

Just look at an early scene where Owens takes two companions (including an out-of-his-depth British reporter) into a tornado in his heavily modified pickup truck. This set piece's exciting nature comes from how well-paced it is. There's a thrilling sense of theatricality in Chung's filmmaking and Terilyn A. Shropshire's editing, both providing perfect timing in unveiling each neat trick this automobile can pull off. It all provides a very finely-tuned build-up culminating in a fun reveal of drills that keep the truck latched to the ground no matter how windy it gets is a delightful finisher to this sequence. Later on, Chung captures Cooper, Owens, and some poor civilians trying to evade a tornado in an emptied hotel pool largely in a lengthy single-take. This visual decision makes the scenario's tension suffocatingly palpable while the backdrop for the entire situation is deeply creative. When handling VFX-heavy disaster movie mayhem, Chung shows a welcome flair for both bombast and imagination. Needless to say, this Minari veteran is no Josh Trank or Stephen Gaghan in registering as out-of-his-depth with blockbuster filmmaking.

Also, bonus points to Smith's screenplay for eschewing the legacy sequel mold for Twisters. A handful of references (like naming storm-chasing devices "Dorothy") exist, but the proceedings don't grind to a halt to contort the plot into a "surprise" Twister sequel. Nobody here is a secret descendent of the original film's characters, nor are random Twister props suddenly turned into sacred MacGuffin's. Twisters is just another tornado-centric blockbuster taking place in Oklahoma. Even its big set pieces creatively lean into backdrops that wouldn't have been possible back in 1996, like a tornado descending on a wind turbine field. Sink or swim, Twisters is out to establish its own identity that doesn't require viewership of that original 1990s blockbuster. What a deeply admirable trait in a time when superhero movies pause their stories to pay tribute to 90s superhero films that never even got made.

Unfortunately, in between those tornado-heavy scenes are a lot of dreary dialogue-heavy sequences that are borderline insufferable. Classic disaster movies weren't known for housing lines that would make Truman Capote or Billy Wilder proud. However, they also tended to have expansive ensemble casts that didn't leave one thinly sketched character on-screen for long. Twisters, meanwhile, focuses almost exclusively on the flirtatious dynamic between Cooper and Owens. Smith's script aims to make their rapport the His Girl Friday of disaster movie romances. He doesn't come close to those cinematic aspirations. Their dialogue is too full of predictable sarcastic banter and, later, verbose discussions about the inner machinations of tornados. Twisters best assets are its grand visual swings, not pretty people chattering like network TV scientists.

This central character dynamic would also work better if Owens wasn't so often insufferable. Constantly chanting "city girl" to Owens and hootin' & hollerin' at everything in sight, Smith and Chung go way overboard on making the character an aggressive Southern "bro". He resonates as a caricature immediately and, when it's time for him to show depth, Owens is flattened out into a generically-rendered figure shouting at CG storms. He's either got too much personality or none at all! Meanwhile, all the tech in his car (not to mention his status as a semi-famous YouTuber) gives Owens an extra irritating edge. Smith's script never grapples with this, but this guy's wealthy to afford all this tech. He's a rich guy passing himself off as "a good o'l country boy", like he's the target of Bo Burnham's modern country music parody. 

That level of financial security compounds the already insufferable nature of his character. It's also a quality especially hindering the eventual bitterness Owens feels towards Cooper and Javi's land-owner employers. Owens is meant to be a champion for "the little guy", but thanks to how financially well-off he is, it just feels like two kinds of rich folks hashing it out ("whoever wins, we lose!"). The vagueness over the machinations and intent of those land-owner employers (presumably so the script doesn't involve corrupt actions Twisters financier Comcast is doing in real life) only further hampers this plot detail. Powell's leading man charms from Set It Up and Hit Man can't salvage a character this poorly written. Nor can he resuscitate a fictional figure that goes directly against how often past disaster movies explicitly chronicled working-class figures. 

The rest of the cast delivers decent work, even if Daisy Edgar-Jones has no real dimensions to play with as Kate Cooper. Lively bursts of energy from Brandon Perea, Sasha Lane, and Katy O'Brian make them the film's MVPs by default! In another shocking twist on my pre-viewing expectations, composer Benjamin Wallfish also rounds up some fine compositions for the proceedings. Wallfish slept-walked through The Flash last year, but he's got some rousing banjos and stirring guitars ready to go for the Twisters score. His orchestral accompaniments complement the on-screen action and feel distinctly evocative of the Oklahoma setting. As for the assorted country tunes on the soundtrack, they're mostly an embarrassing waste of good singers. Tanner Adell, for instance, has an extremely lovely voice, but her ditty "Too Easy" is way too evocative of misguided 2010s "girlboss" tunes "God Made Girls". She and the other singers here deserved better than these disposably-written tracks. 

When Twisters revs up the spectacle, it's a perfectly cromulent time at the movies. I'm sure those checking it out in IMAX will get their money's worth and if these characters register as enjoyable to you, you'll be happier than a pig in a slop. However, Twisters desperately needed less expository dialogue and a little more melodrama and fun. Who comes to a 90s disaster movie pastiche for so much conversation? If nothing else, it couldn't have hurt to improve the country rock soundtrack (maybe Gary Allan should've drummed up an original ditty?) At least Lee Isaac Chung and company can hold their head high that, in the pantheon of disaster movies, Twisters doesn't have a scene as embarrassing as Armageddon's erotic animal crackers sequence.

In Laman's Terms: Longlegs Exemplifies Why Theatrical Releases Matter

If I told you about an odd moment or image in a Netflix Original Movie, you'd have no trouble verifying what I was talking about. After all, if a feature film premieres on digital home media platforms (whether it's on Netflix or premium video-on-demand), it can immediately be spliced up into gifs or memes. Screenshots and clips can be taken out of context instantaneously for the world to see. Just Google "A Family Affair weird grocery store scene" or any viral moment from 365 Days, it's there for you. This phenomenon was especially apparent back in 2021, when major legacy movie studios dropped several significant theatrical movies simultaneously on streaming. Two or three-minute snippets from Black Widow or The Matrix Resurrections spread like wildfire across Twitter as punchlines for tweets.

Now, let's compare this to if I told you about something strange in a theatrical movie, like, say, the recent surprise smash hit Longlegs. That movie has concealed in its marketing what Nicolas Cage as the serial killer Longlegs looks like. The Neon promotional team has kept a slew of additional key plot points and disturbing imagery hidden away from the ambiguous but striking marketing campaign for this Osgood Perkins motion picture. If I told you about something especially strange Cage did in Longlegs or a particularly eerie image from the movie, you couldn't just find it on Google. You'd have to take the time to buy a ticket, head out to the movie theater, and watch the entire motion picture. With that experience, you'd finally understand what I was talking about..but you'd also have to watch the whole movie.

Meanwhile, removing immediately available visual aids adds something extra fun and specific to the experience of Longlegs viewers trying to tell their friends about key images or acting flourishes from the feature. There is no officially released still of Cage as Longlegs I could point to in explaining to my friends "this is what he looks like." I'll have to describe it myself, which undoubtedly will be a vastly different description than how another viewer would describe this malicious figure's appearance. This makes talking about Longlegs extra idiosyncratic from person to person. It also adds a fun campfire story quality to discussing the production. You're reporting to another soul who's maybe never even heard of Longlegs all kinds of freaky materials and physical appearances contained within this one film. It's like some teenager regaling their friends around a fire about a beast they SWEAR they saw in the local forest. All you have to go on is the words of the narrator and the ominous reality that we truly never know what lies in wait in the darkness.

Eventually (probably by mid-August), Longlegs will come to PVOD. Then images from the feature, including 4K screengrabs of Cage as Longlegs, will populate social media. I can immediately think of at least two 10-second clips from Longlegs guaranteed to become go-to reaction memes. Ted Sarandos and other Netflix higher-ups may scoff at this reality in between licking the boots of transphobes and podcast hosts spreading misinformation about AIDS. "Why even put these things in theaters if they'll one day be available in your home?" they'll scorn after engaging in financial practices making it impossible for directors to make a living.

However, the specialness and experiences of theatrical exhibition live on long after a movie's big-screen run has concluded. Long after The Gray Man and The Tomorrow War have been forgotten, people still talk about The Blair Witch Project and its crafty marketing. The Barbenheimer phenomenon of last year will live on eternal as a testament to the joys of theatrical moviegoing and bonding with friends over cinema. Those lines of people that went for blocks and blocks for The Exorcist, that's still legendary. The countless stories attached to prime theatrical experiences help solidify as movies in the popular consciousness. They're not just another tile on your streaming platform's home screen. They're something you bonded with other people at or a motion picture that you had so much fun talking about with another person.

Longlegs would've vanished quickly into the streaming algorithm ether if it had debuted on streaming. High-quality yet obscure horror films like His House can attest to that reality. Not every movie that goes to the big screen becomes a smash hit. But if you want a movie that takes off like a surprising rocket like Longlegs...it has to go to theaters. Believe it or not, there are a few reasons why this mold for experiencing cinema has endured for over a century.