The Films That Got Overlooked This Oscar Season

This year's Oscar nominees are fairly decent, but I'd like to take a moment to recognize 10 superb films we won't hear mentioned at all during Sunday's telecast. The voters forgot about these movies, but I have not.

My LAFCA Awards Presentation for Jomo Fray, Cinematographer of 'Nickel Boys'

The devastating Los Angeles fires in January forced the postponement of this year's Los Angeles Film Critics Association awards dinner. But on February 6th, the show went on, resulting in an evening that was a little more subdued but, nonetheless, still rather joyous. It was my honor to present our award for Best Cinematography, which deservedly went to the year's best film. Here were my remarks from the stage:

Few cinematographers today are more exciting than Jomo Fray. He has shot some of the most distinctive feature debuts in recent memory, including Selah and the Spades and All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt. His images are tactile, lived-in — they stun without feeling showy. His camerawork, which is often centered on Black narratives, has the grace of a poem.

Tonight, we celebrate his crucial contribution to Nickel Boys, deservedly praised for its audacious use of first-person POV. Working alongside first-time feature director RaMell Ross, Fray had to determine precisely how the film’s teenage characters would take in their world, shooting on locations that often had to be 360-degree environments, with a nimble camera meant to replicate Elwood and Turner’s sentient perspective. From a craft standpoint, Nickel Boys was an enormous undertaking.

But anyone moved beyond words by this film doesn’t talk about aspect ratios or SnorriCam rigs. Instead, we marvel at myriad indelible shots that feel like childhood memories. Nickel Boys is full of pain and sorrow, but there’s also an incredible innocence to it — we don’t just see the film from Elwood and Turner’s perspective, we reconnect with the spirit of being young, back when our impressionable eyes were hungrily absorbing everything around us. Fray’s camera is attuned to these terrors and joys. We practically smell the stench of the so-called White House, where the Black students of Nickel are beaten. But we also delight at the sight of an adorable girl smiling under our seat on a bus.

The film invites us to experience it all in this most extraordinary of coming-of-age dramas, to bear witness to a country’s history of racism and cruelty — a history that remains so very present. Nickel Boys is an act of love and an act of defiance. And Jomo Fray makes sure we never look away.

Please join me in congratulating our winner for Best Cinematography, Jomo Fray.

I was so glad to have Jomo Fray there. I hadn't met him, and he was, unsurprisingly, terrific. (Also, everybody loved his outfit.) All of our winners can be found here. This photo was taken by Shiloh Strong.

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. 

* * * * *  

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. 

* * * * * 

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 mention 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.)

St. Vincent - "Broken Man"

According to Spotify, this was the song I played the most in 2024. I wouldn't have guessed that, but I'll take it.

What Was the Funniest Moment at the Movies in 2024?

 
I did the math and came up with 34 of the best jokes, characters, memes and moments from films this year. My unassailable comedy rankings are up at Cracked.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: The Best Films of 2024

The episode you've waited for all year is here: Will and I each count down our picks for the best films of 2024. Hope you enjoy.

2024 Gotham Awards Nominees

It has been an annual tradition I am very proud to be a part of. The folks at the Gotham Film & Media Institute invited me to once again join the committee that selects the nominees for the Gothams' acting categories. Alongside Monica Castillo, Robert Daniels, Tomris Laffly and Brian Tallerico, I helped pick this year's best Lead, Supporting and Breakthrough performances. You can see our choices here, along with the nominees in other categories.

Venice/Telluride/Toronto 2024: The Wrap-Up and the Rankings

"How long were you out of the country?"

When I went through customs in Toronto on the way back to Los Angeles, I actually had to think about that question for a minute. For the first time since 2019, I did the fall festival double-shot of Venice and Toronto, which I very much enjoyed. Nonetheless, when it was all over, I could feel that I'd been away from home for quite some time. While I'd been gone, I'd ridden water buses and suffered through some pretty bad humidity. Then I got to Toronto and battled rain and chilly evenings. At some point along the way, I may have pulled a leg muscle. You never know what festivals are going to throw at you, but that's the fun -- you're just grateful to be part of the experience.

All told, I was gone about 17 days, seeing a ton of movies at both Venice and Toronto. Not that you can catch everything, of course: Conflicting screenings and other logistics kept me from April, Diciannove, Hard Truths, The Life of Chuck, Vermiglio and others. (Plus: Nickel Boys only screened in Telluride.) But I'll get to them all in due time. What matters is the amount I did catch, and the memories I now have of seeing so many of these films at their first screenings. That communal spirit -- that shared moment of discovery -- is incredibly special. I missed Susan, and I'm glad to be home, but those memories keep replaying in my head.

The below rankings are a list of everything I've seen that played at the three festivals, either over the last few weeks or at some point earlier this year. (You'll recognize several Cannes titles, not to mention a few Sundance films.) Links lead to individual reviews...

53. Megalopolis
52. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice
51. William Tell
50. Nutcrackers
49. Joker: Folie à Deux
48. King Ivory
47. The Assessment
46. Eden
45. Oh, Canada
44. Emilia Perez
43. Heretic
42. Rumours 
41. Babygirl
40. We Live in Time
39. The Shrouds
38. The Outrun
37. Will & Harper
36. Bring Them Down
35. Nightbitch
34. Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass
33. Misericordia
32. I, the Executioner
31. Conclave
30. The Substance
29. Sudan, Remember Us
28. Chain Reactions
27. The Girl With the Needle
26. Paul & Paulette Take A Bath
25. The Order
24. Better Man
23. Sharp Corner
22. Separated
21. Wolfs
20. Bird
19. September 5
18. Presence
17. I’m Still Here
16. Queer
15. Maria
14. The Wild Robot
13. Flow
12. On Becoming a Guinea Fowl
11. Homegrown
10. Pavements
9. All We Imagine as Light
8. The Room Next Door
7. The End
6. Anora
5. Grand Tour
4. Caught by the Tides
3. The Brutalist
2. The Seed of the Sacred Fig
1. A Real Pain

I imagine some folks will look at my rankings and exclaim, "Really? Megalopolis is really the worst movie you saw?" I'm looking forward to revisiting the Francis Ford Coppola film, and I've told anyone in earshot that they really do owe it to themselves to see it, just so they can make up their own mind about this ambitious swing. But, yes, I do find it a crushing disappointment. Likewise, I am working on gut instinct when I say that Jesse Eisenberg's beautifully intimate character study A Real Pain is slightly greater than the far more imposing works by Mohammad Rasoulof (The Seed of the Sacred Fig) and Brady Corbet (The Brutalist). They all demand a rewatch, so we'll see how the end-of-the-year list-making shakes out.

But for now, I'll say that Venice and Toronto provided me with some excellent movies and a few cases where I'm very much out of the consensus. I know many who loathe The End, whereas plenty think I'm wrong for being lukewarm on Babygirl. But these are my rankings. Consider this post a preview of coming attractions of the movies worth putting on your radar, even if you end up liking some of them more or less than I do.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: The Best Films of the First Half of 2024

We're already halfway through the year, which means it's time for each of us to offer up our picks for the best films of 2024 (so far). We also spend a little time reviewing the mediocre Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F. Check it all out below.

Cannes 2024: The Wrap-Up and the Rankings

The 2024 Cannes Film Festival is when I finally decided it's not worth debating whether a particular edition was "good" or "bad." Truth is, every Cannes is filled with triumphs, misfires, disappointments, underappreciated gems, surprises, and movies you liked a lot more (or a lot less) than your colleagues did. And because the festival doesn't necessarily front-load its strongest offerings, you really have no idea where the annual ebbs and flows will land. You have to take Cannes in its entirety, judging it not by one day but by the whole two-week experience. There's no festival like it because it's longer and, therefore, harder to process as it's happening. Only distance will tell you for sure -- and even then, you may be shocked to catch up with a few films you missed (or revisit ones you saw) and discover what a great year it had actually been. There's no such thing as a "bad" Cannes, just degrees of good.

That said, do I think I found a film this year that could match 2023's twin stunners in The Zone of Interest and Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell? No, but looking over my rankings, I'm pleased by how many strong films I saw, with the possibility of more bangers to come. (I wish I'd had time for The Balconettes, The Kingdom, Armand, Black Dog, Flow, Santosh, Viet and Nam and others. And I wish my screening of Universal Language had had English subtitles like it claimed it would.) 

Here's a list of everything I saw at Cannes, from worst to best, with links leading to individual reviews. And please note that I'm not including the first half of the restoration of Abel Nance's extraordinary Napoleon, which I saw and was completely blown away by.

34. Megalopolis
33. The Surfer
32. The Second Act
31. The Apprentice
30. Oh, Canada
29. Beating Hearts
28. Emilia Perez
27. Wild Diamond
26. Rumours
25. The Shrouds
24. Visiting Hours
23. Misericordia
22. Being Maria
21. I, the Executioner
20. Motel Destino
19. The Substance
18. It's Not Me
17. Christmas Eve in Miller's Point
16. Elementary
15. The Girl With the Needle
14. Bird
13. Three Kilometers to the End of the World
12. Blue Sun Palace
11. On Becoming a Guinea Fowl
10. Eephus
9. Good One
8. The Invasion
7. All We Imagine as Light
6. Anora
5. Grand Tour
4. Caught by the Tides
3. Kinds of Kindness
2. The Seed of the Sacred Fig
1. September Says

A few words about my No. 1 film. I went into Ariane Labed's directorial debut basically blind. (I knew the plot description, plus who had worked on the movie.) And from the first moment, I was enraptured, its spell never breaking. September Says (pictured above) was part of Un Certain Regard, but it crushed me more completely than anything in the Competition, although Mohammad Rasoulof's The Seed of the Sacred Fig got awfully close. When I review movies at a festival, I go home straight from the screening and write -- I don't talk to anyone or check online reactions. So I'm basically in a bubble, unaware of how others feel, and what I quickly discovered was that I was higher on September Says than, basically, anyone else. (As one colleague, who hadn't seen it, put it derisively, "It sounds like a Toronto film.") Maybe a second viewing will diminish the film in my estimation -- maybe revisits of The Seed of the Sacred Fig or Caught by the Tides or Anora or All We Imagine as Light will vault them up the rankings. But for now, this tale of two peculiar sisters -- too delicate and strange for this world -- earns the top spot.

Because I am historically awful at predicting the Palme d'Or winner, my guess is worth nothing. Nonetheless, I'm with the consensus that it's going to be either All We Imagine as Light or The Seed of the Sacred Fig. It's impossible to know what a Cannes jury will go for, but my gut tells me that All We Imagine as Light's gentle beauty will win out over The Seed of the Sacred Fig's darker, more challenging tone -- although filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof's emotional appearance at the latter's premiere may be too much for the jury to resist. Could Anora pull off the upset? Emilia Perez? Absolutely. But I'm going with All We Imagine as Light, which premiered late this year and has all the momentum going into the weekend. Not that you should bet your mortgage on my hunch.  

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: My Sundance Recap and 'The Man in the Moon'

I am so behind on posting about the podcast. When I got back from Sundance, Will and I discussed my favorites from the festival. Plus, Will had actually seen one of the films, A Real Pain, so we reviewed it together. Then, in our Reboot segment, we looked back at California Split and The Man in the Moon. Check it all out down below.

Sundance 2024: Ranking the Best and Worst of the Festival

My first Sundance was 2009. It was my first film festival. Those realizations hit me in the middle of this Sundance, so many years later. Back then I didn't know the basic rules: how you should just have your snow boots on when you board the plane to Salt Lake City, how you should make sure to drink enough water to avoid headaches. I don't think you ever truly master a film festival, but over time at least you're more prepared for what might come your way. 

Last year's edition was deemed an instant classic simply because of Past Lives -- not to mention movies like Passages and All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt -- that it was inevitable that this year's installment must suffer by comparison. But I have to say: I saw several gems, including at least one that's going to merit serious consideration for my end-of-the-year list. And, even better, it wasn't one I was expecting greatness from when this Sundance started. But Jesse Eisenberg's beautiful, hilarious A Real Pain floored me. That's the part of a festival you never can plan for -- the movie that comes out of nowhere and knocks your socks off. (And, also, a special shout-out to In the Summers, pictured above, which won the U.S. Dramatic prize, as well as the directing award.)

Below are my rankings, with links leading to individual reviews.

27. Your Monster
26. Rob Peace
25. Love Lies Bleeding
24. Love Me
23. The Outrun
22. Will & Harper
21. A New Kind of Wilderness
20. Exhibiting Forgiveness
19. Gaucho Gaucho
18. Thelma
17. Power
16. DEVO
15. Union
14. War Game
13. My Old Ass
12. Black Box Diaries
11. Presence
10. I Saw the TV Glow
9. Hit Man
8. Girls State
7. Girls Will Be Girls
6. How to Have Sex
5. Good One
4. Sasquatch Sunset
3. A Different Man
2. In the Summers
1. A Real Pain