Best of 2024: The Top 10 Movies of the Year

In 2001, I had a shitty year and I couldn't wait for it to be over. On New Year's Eve, I attended a party where I didn't know a ton of people, and I ended up chatting with this woman. During our conversation, I mentioned how happy I was that 2001 was ending, figuring I didn't need to elaborate on why. But she just looked at me, confused. "What was so bad about it?" she asked me.

I have never run into this person since, but I think about her occasionally. How could she have been so obtuse? Did she not remember 9/11? Wasn't she, like the rest of us, still wrestling with the horrible feeling that everything had changed and nothing felt certain anymore? I didn't expect her to also know about the personal things that had happened to me in 2001 that had gone terribly wrong, but still: Why didn't she know that this has been an all-time awful year?

As I've gotten older, I've been more forgiving in my judgment of that person. We don't know what other people are going through but, also, we can't assume that our experience is universal. Truth is, she may have had an amazing 2001, despite 9/11 or anything else happening in the world. Maybe she wasn't depressed, lonely and feeling very much at a crossroads in her life. Maybe she wasn't me.

I've been thinking about that woman a lot in 2024, which for a lot of people was a pretty shitty year. Trump's reelection was the pivotal lowlight, of course, but additionally there were plenty of things going on in the personal lives of those around me that also contributed to a general sense of despair. People lost spouses. People lost parents. People lost their pets. Cancers came back. Loved ones kept getting older. Health issues got serious. Dreams got dashed. Was 2024 the worst year of my life since 2001? Sometimes, it sure felt that way, although it feels odd (and dangerous) to write that. After all, all years are a mix of good and bad, filled with fond memories and crushing bummers, and even the notion of declaring a particular year "the worst" seems incredibly self-indulgent and overdramatic — plus, it's just asking for trouble. (You never know how much worse things could get, and you should be careful not to take your blessings for granted, lest you lose them.) 

But at the same time, I know people who, all told, had a great 2024. They found love. They had a baby. They got an exciting new job. They got out of a bad relationship. They received a prestigious honor. They got to travel. Their baseball team won the World Series. All that good fortune happened in the same year that so much misery occurred — sometimes, to the same person. So was it a good year or a bad year for them? How do you weigh the pros and cons?

A movie that has stayed with me all year was A Real Pain, which I saw at its Sundance premiere. In the film, Jesse Eisenberg's uptight but seemingly put-together family man David is complaining about his cousin, Kieran Culkin's far more volatile Benji. The tour group they're with feel sorry for the hotheaded, emotional Benji — "he's clearly in pain," one of them says — which sparks an pointed response from David. "I know, but isn’t everyone in pain in some way?" he replies. "Well, you seem okay," another tour-group member says. That's when David really loses it.

"I’m not," he responds. "That’s the thing! I have shit going on! I do. But I take a pill for my fuckin' OCD, I jog, I meditate and I go to work and come home at the end of the day. I move forward. Because I know my pain is unexceptional so I don’t feel the need to burden everybody with it."

Most of my life, I've viewed things like David. I have shit going on, but I know other people do, too. So I just keep on keepin' on, convinced my pain is unexceptional. I don't want to burden folks with it. There's value in that — namely, the importance of not becoming so self-absorbed and consumed with your own stuff that you lose sight of what's happening to those around you. But in 2024, I saw other people's pain and wondered about the value of just constantly moving forward — sometimes, that pain has to be acknowledged. That recognition is also a way of growing closer to others by opening yourself up and letting others see your pain. A good pal of mine has a saying that I really love: "If you want to make a friend, ask a favor." The idea is that by being vulnerable and asking for help, you allow others to see you — and for them to feel connected to you in an intimate way. This year, amidst a lot of terrible things, I watched people not be afraid to "burden" others. I know I did the same.

That's why, as bad as 2024 was, I can't say I absolutely hated the last 12 months. There was too much beauty and too much joy to outright dismiss the year in its entirety. Even amidst the pain, there was the reminder of how sadness can generate its own forms of wisdom, humility, humor and compassion. Those things are gifts and you've got to seek them out. Otherwise, life loses all meaning. So, no, I'm not "excited" or "relieved" that 2024 is ending — for starters, with Trump returning to the White House, 2025 could easily be worse. But also, I'm not interested in discarding everything that this year brought. I accept it all. I do wonder, though, how that woman from that 2001 New Year's Eve party is doing. 

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Another reason to be grateful: 2024 was one of the best film years in recent memory, as demonstrated by my stacked Top 10 list...

1. Nickel Boys (RaMell Ross)
2. Janet Planet (Annie Baker) 
3. A Real Pain (Jesse Eisenberg)
4. Challengers (Luca Guadagnino)
5. His Three Daughters (Azazel Jacobs)
6. Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell (Pham Thien An)
7. Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World (Radu Jude)
8. The Seed of the Sacred Fig (Mohammad Rasoulof) 
9. Here (Bas Devos)             
10. The Brutalist (Brady Corbet)

I also want to give special mention to the movies that ended up 11-15 on my list, which were Evil Does Not Exist, The Room Next Door, A Different Man, In the Summers and Anora, all of them stellar pictures in their own right. 

For a different take on the year in movies, check out my Screen International list, which only counts films that premiered in 2024. (In other words, five of the movies in my official Top 10 above don't count since they played at festivals last year — and a sixth one, Challengers, was set to premiere in Venice before the actors strike changed those plans.) If you'd like a lengthy discussion about my official Top 10, check out the Grierson & Leitch end-of-the-year podcast.

As I look over my lists, I have vibrant, pleasant memories attached to each of these movies. I remember when I saw them, where I saw them and what was going on in my life at the time. The other day, someone asked me if ever watch movies just for enjoyment. I feel like I always am. 

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As always, I kept busy this year. 2025 will be my 20th anniversary of writing for Screen International. I cannot believe it, and I couldn't be more grateful. Beyond the reviews I write all year as the trade's Senior U.S. Critic, there's also the festivals I cover for the publication, including Sundance, Cannes, and the double shot of Venice and Toronto. Another Sundance is just around the corner. Can't wait.

I was also extremely active over at the Los Angeles Times between reviewing films and profiling actors and directors. Who all did I chat with? Sean Baker (at Gardena Cinema, which was a blast). Juliette Binoche and director Tran Anh Hung for The Taste of Things. Carol freaking Burnett. India Donaldson. Ryusuke Hamaguchi. The stars of His Three Daughters (the night after the election no less). Nicholas Hoult. Jimmy Kimmel (wasn't expecting that interview to go viral). Richard Linklater. Julianne Moore and Natalie Portman for May December. Julianne Nicholson. RaMell Ross. Sebastian Stan and Adam Pearson for A Different Man. Taylor Tomlinson. John Wilson. Also, I was thrilled to do a breakdown of the Oppenheimer screenplay, which reads like a dream by the way, with insights by Kai Bird, Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr., Hoyte van Hoytema, Clive Owen, Christopher Nolan and Emma Thomas. Another favorite Times memory from 2024: writing a 25th anniversary piece for The Sixth Sense, which allowed me the opportunity to interview some old colleagues from my brief time in script development, including my former boss Anne Helmstadter, without whom I never would have met my wife Susan.

A very fun thing that happened in 2024 was I started writing for RogerEbert.com. There are too many highlights to mention, but allow me to single out a few gems: my profile of diehard Tenet fans, my interview with Danny Boyle about his friend Cillian Murphy on the eve of his Oscar win, my salute to Emma Stone on the eve of her Oscar win, my very mixed review of this year's Oscars, my interview with Catherine Breillat about Last Summer, my tribute to the late Eleanor Coppola, my long conversation with Keith Law about baseball movies, my interview with Jesse Plemons about Kinds of Kindness (no. 17 on my list of the year's best films), and my interview with Joanna Arnow about The Feeling That the Time for Doing Something Has Passed (no. 20 on my list). Oh, also: I spent a day hanging out with Justin Baldoni in July before the release of It Ends With Us. (You may have heard some stuff about him recently.)

For my friends at Cracked, I got to talk to some comedians I love, including Anthony Jeselnik and Tig Notaro. I also got deep with John Early and Penn Jillette, who were refreshingly candid about life, work and politics. And I interviewed filmmakers Caroline Suh and Cara Mones, whose documentary Sorry/Not Sorry is about Louis C.K. but, really, is about the whole notion of this thing we call cancel culture.

Over at Rolling Stone, I bid a fond farewell to the great Donald Sutherland. I also looked back at 1994's The Crow, which was emblematic of its time. (You might recall there was a (putrid) remake this year.) I hopped on a Zoom with Joshua Oppenheimer to talk about his wonderful film The End (no. 19 on my list). And I told the world what the Golden Globes got right (and wrong) with their nominations.

I was once again thrilled to be part of the Gotham Awards committee as a member of the panel that selected the acting nominees. It was my honor in January to present LAFCA's Best Director prize to Jonathan Glazer for The Zone of Interest. It's always a kick to be on Press Play With Madeleine Brand, not to mentioning guesting on the Breakfast All Day podcast to join my friend Christy Lemire to talk movies. I returned to Wilco the Podcast to discuss the band's Hot Sun Cool Shroud EP. And, of course, everyone's favorite weekly film podcast, Grierson & Leitch, had another superb year. Will and I have so much fun doing the show, and I am grateful to all those who listen.

On a personal note, Susan and I celebrated 18 years of marriage. (Her No. 1 movie of the year is also Nickel Boys, followed by A Real Pain, Anora, The Seed of the Sacred Fig and The Room Next Door.) Her insights into films remains as astute as the day I met her back in 1999. (She's also a terrific writer.) But those qualities are not even among the 150 things I most love about her. Put it this way: No year with Susan can remotely be considered a "bad" year.

In 2024, I also did a fair amount of Q&As. It is a job I take seriously and enjoy immensely, and I am always appreciative when an audience member comes up to me afterwards and says, "That was really good — most Q&As are terrible." (I hear this more often than you might imagine.) I consider it a huge compliment. Here's just a small list of the people I've been lucky enough to share a stage with this year: the A Different Man team of Sebastian Stan and Adam Pearson; Ethan Hawke (for Wildcat); Joshua Oppenheimer and Michael Shannon (for The End); Ryusuke Hamaguchi (for Evil Does Not Exist); the Lee team of Kate Winslet, Marion Cotillard and Andrea Riseborough; George MacKay (for The Beast); the Anora team of Sean Baker, Mikey Madison, Samantha Quan and Drew Daniels; the cast and crew of Sing Sing; the cast and crew of The Brutalist; the Nickel Boys team of RaMell Ross, Ethan Herisse and Brandon Wilson; Charlie Kaufman (for I'm Thinking of Ending Things and then for Being John Malkovich alongside Catherine Keener); and Franz Rogowski (on my birthday!) for Passages. There was the night Juliette Binoche and Tran Anh Hung were too sick to attend their Q&A for The Taste of Things, and at the last minute, Tran Nu Yen Khe, the filmmaker's wife and creative partner, stepped in and proved to be an absolute delight. I also have to thank the fine folks at the American Cinematheque, who for the third year of Bleak Week took my suggestion to program Testament — and allowed me to moderate a post-screening Q&A with director Lynne Littman. What an honor. (Later in the year, I also got to present Junebug, which remains wonderful.)

And then one last thing. In November, I was asked to moderate a career conversation with Daniel Craig at the Egyptian. I had been warned that he can be a little surly on stage, but I found him warm, candid and hilarious. It was a pretty special night, helped by the fact that his longtime agent, Sally Long-Innes, was in the audience, telling a great anecdote about first meeting him years ago. I am such a fortunate person, able to write in a variety of formats and also to interview interesting artists in print and also in front of an audience. The 2001 version of me could not have conceived that he would ever be in the position of the 2024 version of me, and I don't take that for granted. I look at that picture at the top of this post, and my overwhelming feeling is gratitude. There are no bad years, no matter how bad you might think they are.

Thank you for reading this. If you enjoy the work I do, that means a lot. Here's to more beauty and pain in 2025.

(Photo by Ziwei Zhao for American Cinematheque.)

How Kristen Stewart Became Kristen Stewart

The Criterion Channel is currently featuring the three most crucial movies in Kristen Stewart's post-Twilight career: Clouds of Sils Maria, Personal Shopper and Certain Women. I wrote about that remarkable run of superb films, and how they changed our perception of her, for RogerEbert.com.

My Interview With the Team Behind 'The Taste of Things'

I saw The Taste of Things at its first press screening in Cannes, quite taken by its portrait of love and art. For the Los Angeles Times, I spoke with writer-director Tran Anh Hung and star Juliette Binoche (as well as co-star Benoit Magimel and Tran Nu Yen Khe, who is Hung's wife and creative partner) about what's going on beneath the gorgeousness of the culinary world the film depicts. Hope you enjoy.

(Photo by Yuri Hasegawa.)

2023 Gotham Awards Nominees

It is always incredibly flattering to be asked to be part of the Gotham Awards nominating jury. I took part in the acting committee, which was responsible for selecting 10 finalists in both the Lead and Supporting categories. (The Gothams went to non-gendered categories years ago.) I want to thank my fellow jurors Monica Castillo, Robert Daniels, Shawn Edwards and Tomris Laffly for such a fun deliberation; I couldn't be happier with our picks. You can see them here, as well as the other committees' nominations.

Cannes 2023: 'The Pot-au-Feu' Review

I quite enjoyed The Pot-au-Feu, which studies the love affair between a brilliant cook (Juliette Binoche) and a gourmet (Benoit Magimel). There's lots of great food in the film, but also a lot of thoughtful observations about art, devotion and holding onto what lasts. My review is here.

'Paradise Highway' Review

Juliette Binoche, hardcore truck driver? That's the premise of Paradise Highway, a thriller that explores the dark heart of human trafficking. My review is up at Screen International.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: Thor, 'Both Sides of the Blade' and 'The Sea Beast'

Lots of disagreement this week: We differ on the latest from both Marvel and Claire Denis. But we're aligned on Netflix's latest animated film. Hear the whole episode down below.

My Interview With Hirokazu Kore-eda, Director of 'The Truth'

What a treat to speak with Japanese master Hirokazu Kore-eda. Our conversation happened in March, just as the pandemic was starting to take hold of America. (He was in Japan, and we talked through an interpreter.) Now that his new film The Truth is out, my Q&A is live at MEL.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: 'Blue,' 'I'm Not There' and Looking Back at 1994

On this week's podcast, we introduce a new feature, in which we look back at a specific movie year. This week: 1994. Hoop Dreams! Pulp Fiction! Forrest Gump! The Shawshank Redemption!

We also have two Reboots. First is Krzysztof Kieślowski's Blue, the first installment in his Three Colors trilogy. Then, we dig into Todd Haynes' sorta-biopic I'm Not There. Hope you enjoy.

Cinema's History of Isolation

With so many people dealing with quarantine, I started thinking about movies that explore isolation -- whether it's physical or spiritual. That inspired this list for MEL. (And because I'm me, of course I had to include a little love for Jeanne Dielman.)

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: Lions, Princess Brides and 'Cache'

This week at Grierson & Leitch, we differ on the new Lion King. But we dig deep into our two Reboot films: 1987's The Princess Bride and 2005's Cache. Talk about a tonally jarring double feature. You can hear the whole episode down below.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: The Best Movies of 2019 (So Far)

We've reached the halfway point of 2019, so it's time to look back at the first six months of the year. Will and I each select our six favorite films -- there's only one overlap -- and then we debate the relative merits of Yesterday. Finally, we look back at That Thing You Do! A very fun episode: You can hear the whole thing down below.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: See 'High Life' and 'Amazing Grace'

On this week's episode, we agree on the underwhelming Shazam! I'm a little higher on the new Pet Sematary than Will is, but then I solo on two great indies, High Life and Amazing Grace. Hear the whole thing below.

Best of 2018: The Top 10 Movies of the Year

On June 18, I was angry and depressed. This is not an uncommon state since Trump became president, but I felt it acutely that day as more information was becoming available regarding the administration's "children in cages" immigration policy. Looking back at my social media posts from the period, it's clear I'd been in a funk for days, but I was especially frustrated by how meaningless my sadness and rage were. I was furious about the country's direction, but I was also powerless. What was the point of getting so worked-up if, ultimately, I couldn't do anything about it? I'm not someone who's comfortable being angry; I don't like how it leaves me feeling out of control. As best I can, I usually try to push past those emotions in order to focus on a constructive way of handling the problem. But Trump is a toxin, and my usual workarounds were insufficient.

So that night I was sitting at home alone, utterly at loose ends, when I decided to just blurt something out on Twitter.

Being angry all the time is exhausting and corrosive. Not being angry feels morally irresponsible.

— Tim Grierson (@TimGrierson) June 19, 2018

Within 30 minutes, I could tell that something was happening. The tweet was being retweeted like crazy, helped by the fact that Stephen Kinsella, an associate professor of psychology, gave it a signal boost by cleverly noting, "Siri, describe 2018 in one tweet please." Pretty soon, Kinsella and I were being inundated by commenters, who were offering suggestions about the best way to handle my dilemma.

Anybody who has a tweet go viral will soon experience the worst of Twitter, but I was pleasantly surprised by how generally positive and thoughtful the responses were. For the most part, people were letting me know that they felt the same way that I did -- and they weren't sure what to do, either. (That said, the comments I probably most appreciated were from people of color, who politely chided me for just now being aware that lots of folks have to learn to live with impotent anger.)

I write many things throughout the year: movie reviews, profile pieces, essays, lists. It is very likely that nothing I wrote in 2018 was as widely read as that tweet, which took me about 30 seconds to compose. That's an odd realization. On the one hand, I'm touched that anything I put out into the world could strike a chord with total strangers. But it's also a bit bittersweet to witness something of yours become so embraced by the culture that it stops being "yours." I've seen people online reference that tweet like it was a common expression -- it's now just something on the internet that's used as a shorthand to describe a specific mood. (I've never been to Portugal, but my words have. It's also the subject of a chapter in a forthcoming book.) And with each new global turmoil -- Brazil's election of Jair Bolsonaro, the ongoing Brexit debacle -- the tweet would find a fresh wave of visibility. My words were depressingly timely, over and over again.

Because that viral tweet has been part of my life for six months now, I've spent a lot of this year trying to figure out exactly why it resonated and what, if anything, I've learned from the experience. I'm not sure I have any good answers. All I know is I'm pleased to have heard from so many responders who essentially said, "Thank you for expressing how I've been feeling." I'm glad to have been able to help others in some small way. Futility isn't as crippling when you know there are others out there like you.

What I'm less proud about is that I haven't solved the conundrum I articulated. And by that, I mean I didn't do a lot to affect change in the world. I voted, to be sure, but compared to my incredible wife (and many of her friends), who went out and canvassed for Katie Hill, successfully flipping California's 25th district blue, I was too consumed with work to be as politically active as I should have been. I'm ashamed of that and need to do better in the future. I put out a feeling in the world, but I didn't act on it. I'm still not sure what to do with my anger.

* * * * *

Since my principal job is to write about movies, not bemoan the state of the world -- although it's funny how often those two interests intersect -- let me now offer my picks for the best films of 2018...

1. Burning
2. You Were Never Really Here
3. Annihilation
4. Widows
5. Cold War
6. Life and Nothing More
7. Roma
8. Mission: Impossible - Fallout
9. Makala
10. Let the Sunshine In

Looking at my picks, what stands out most strongly is that five of my Top 10 films are foreign-language, the highest total since 2015. And I've included links to Life and Nothing More and Makala's respective home pages since they're the two movies I imagine are the least well-known on my list. They're both remarkable, saved from distribution oblivion thanks to awards. (Makala won the Grand Prize at Cannes Critics' Week in 2017. Life and Nothing More took home the John Cassavetes Award at the Independent Spirit Awards.)

My Nos. 11-15 were almost as beloved, with each film, at one point or another, seemingly a lock for my Top 10. Alas, there just wasn't room for (in order of preference) Private Life, Hereditary, If Beale Street Could Talk, Lean on Pete and Amazing Grace. (And if The Tale had gotten a theatrical release instead of airing on HBO, it probably would have landed on my Top 10.) Why didn't your favorite movie make the list? Because I am a bad person.

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Professionally, 2018 was a year where I did my best to be grateful for all the terrific places where I get to write. I'm extremely lucky.

Take Screen International. Once again this year, I covered Sundance, Cannes and Toronto for the publication, including getting to write about Burning after its premiere. Also at Cannes, I wore a tux to see Lars von Trier's The House That Jack Built; amusingly, my review ended up being Screen's most-read of 2018. (People can't get enough of Matt Dillon serial-killer flicks, apparently.) I adore the entire team over there, especially my wonderful editor Finn Halligan, and it's an honor to be their Senior U.S. Critic.

Over at Paste, I got to write one of my favorite annual pieces, which is a deep-dive overview of True/False. This year's festival was especially strong, and I tried to do it justice, which required more than 6,200 words.

MEL continued to see its profile rise in 2018, which makes me incredibly happy. The staff and its freelancers are writing smart things on a daily basis, and I was thrilled to cross off some bucket-list interview subjects. I got to have a long conversation with Steve James. I interviewed Frederick Wiseman from Paris while he sat on a park bench and looked back on his career. Andrew W.K. was remarkably open about his struggles with mental health. Morgan Neville and I chatted about Won't You Be My Neighbor?, and the amount of traffic that piece generated suggested just how much viewers hungered for a film like that. And I talked to a bunch of sportswriters about the legacy of Jerome Holtzman and the save stat. I am eternally grateful to my editor and friend Josh Schollmeyer for giving me the latitude to write about so many different things over at MEL. (Being given the opportunity to write about Cannes entirely from the perspective of what it's like to watch nothing but subtitled movies for a week was a real blessing.) Looking forward to seeing what transpires for MEL in 2019.

And David Fear remains such a pleasure to work with over at Rolling Stone. I started the year spending time with Sebastián Lelio and Daniela Vega to discuss A Fantastic Woman, which ended up winning Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars. (I was so glad I asked Lelio about that Alan Parsons Project song.) From there, I praised Annihilation and our era of trippy sci-fi films, and then proceeded to hang out with Lynne Ramsay and Joaquin Phoenix (during an earthquake) to talk You Were Never Really Here. (I'll always treasure the moment Phoenix introduced me to Ramsay by saying, "He didn't like our movie." You damn liar, Joaquin.) Other highlights: speaking with F. Murray Abraham after the passing of Milos Forman; dissecting the themes and allusions in Janelle Monae's Dirty Computer film; losing my mind over the Academy's brief flirtation with Best Popular Movie; interviewing Tilda Swinton and Olivia Colman (not at the same time); and revisiting Dogville.

My old pal Will Leitch and I spent another year hosting our weekly film podcast. Our collaboration didn't end there: We very much enjoy doing Debate Club over at SyFy when we're not contributing epic lists for Vulture. (We have a couple coming out in 2019 that are especially major and will definitely not elicit any argument online.) And don't forget: We even have a shirt.

I was tickled to contribute to the Los Angeles Times in 2018, examining the strange case of Bohemian Rhapsody, The Other Side of the Wind and The Nutcracker and the Four Realms: three movies with muddled directorial authorship. (If we had waited a little longer, I could have included Amazing Grace in there as well.) And over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, I spent some time with John Cho to talk about fatherhood and Searching.

In terms of unexpected treats, AM New York asked me to write about the significance of Paul Simon's farewell tour, which gave me an excuse to interview smart music writers about the man's legacy. Oh, and there was the time John Carpenter sorta did an interview with me for Revolver. (He was more interested in the Brett Kavanaugh hearings.) And I did some Q&As I was pleased with, including speaking to the Boy Erased team and Morgan Neville for his other documentary, They'll Love Me When I'm Dead.

And that's enough. I hope you all have a great 2019. Thank you for reading what I write. And may someone look at you the way Kristen Stewart looked at Cate Blanchett at Cannes this year.

We're a couple weeks away from knowing what will win the Palme d'Or, but right now this seems like a lock for best picture. #Cannes2018 pic.twitter.com/h6wNy4gYmb

— Tim Grierson (@TimGrierson) May 8, 2018

Movies About First Dates

In honor of Southside With You, a drama about Barack and Michelle Obama's first date, I put together a list for MEL of the best movies about characters going on first dates. Everything from Certified Copy to Sunday to In Search of a Midnight Kiss made the cut. Hope you enjoy.

Juliette Binoche Speaks

Back in October when I was at the Beirut Film Festival, Juliette Binoche gave a talk to students and aspiring filmmakers in which she looked back at her career. With her new film, Clouds of Sils Maria, now out, I present a few highlights of her chat over at Backstage.

Beirut Film Festival 2014: 'Clouds of Sils Maria' Review

For the first time, I attended the Beirut International Film Festival. I'll have more to say about that soon, but in the meantime here's my review of the festival's opening night film. Clouds of Sils Maria premiered at Cannes and will be coming to the U.S. next year thanks to IFC. It's no surprise that Juliette Binoche is superb in it, but the big revelation is her costar, Kristen Stewart. (Between this and Still Alice, she's had a very good year.) My thoughts on this mysterious, somewhat ambivalent treatise on art and interpretation are over at Paste.

Toronto 2013: 'Words and Pictures' Review

I love Juliette Binoche in just about everything but, man oh man, Words and Pictures is not good. It's a clunker in which she plays a prep school teacher being wooed by Clive Owen. The sparks don't fly. My review is up at Screen International.