2024 has without a doubt been a great year for cinema. Having come off the back of two previous years, both of which provided massive heaps of quality films across the board, this might be the best year of this decade thus far.
Some of the big names of the year like Furiosa or Challengers have let their names be known to a wider audience, but the amount of under-seen bangers might be even more impressive.
Some are yet to claim a wide release but some have been hiding under our noses all year long. Here is my list of the five hidden gems that I managed to see in 2024.
1. On Becoming a Guinea Fowl
Rungano Nyoni’s Zambian funeral drama has seen its time in many film festivals this year, all beginning at Cannes. Despite being picked up by A24 for eventual release in the States, it just started its limited run over here in the UK. This culturally bizarre film distinctly breaks down the Zambian middle class and the generational abuse of women that acts as this film’s central plot point. Nyoni doesn’t employ cliched ideas to tackle grief, she instead uses uniquely placed animalistic images to build a relationship between the women that lead this film, and the guinea fowl of which this film is named after.
A simultaneous discovery of a culture hidden to many, balanced with the vulnerability that the women within these set towns face. One side doesn’t end up outweighing the other, but rather they both effectively work together to drive this narrative forward in fantastically challenging ways.
2. Happyend
With the political film landscape in a constant, ever-evolving discussion, Neo Sora’s Happyend stands as a contemporary coming-of-age Japanese reminder of George Orwell’s 1984. It’s political examination of the nation’s ever-looming earthquake threats coinciding with the film’s impending totalitarian takeover. At the centre of its narrative, a group of high school teenagers faced with their high school’s shift into a more controlled environment.
It doesn’t arm its political commentary in forceful or on-the-nose ways, but rather through subtle gestures. Scenes of characters voicing over other characters from afar, in a seemingly humorous manner. Rather an expression of teenagers who might be losing their voice, a warning of threat about potential dangers of the future.
Sora manages to find a temporal balance between looking into the future in a science fiction manner, but not in a far-off manner that it becomes something completely fictional. Its production design of urban environments is purposefully minimalistic to not throw us into that unrealistic future. Wide shots of screens and projections on clouds build a world that we can see as our own. Without this, the film’s emotional weight and commentary on political consciousness wouldn’t have the same effect it does. A connection of friendships with the government stemmed fascism a driving force of a dark study of our future.
3. Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In
Soi Cheang has been flying under the radar of mainstream audiences for a while now. In 2021 came out with ‘Limbo’. A filthy and gritty neo-noir that sees a detective hunt down a serial killer through a city filled with streets of endless garbage. Twilight Warriors brings back his elevated level of urban storytelling that was very prevalent in Limbo. Hong Kong cinema is alive and kicking thanks to Cheang. His presentation and use of the city is exactly why.
A story spanning territorial gangs, brotherhood, kinship, and generational debut. His building of the Walled City as a character allows for this emotional dynamic to build between our band of characters. He is able to bring every corner of this city to life, through dark and claustrophobic ways. The camera is used in a way that heightens the lack of space, whilst still maximalising what is packed into each frame.
His trust in his editor however might be this film’s key. He favours shorter, quicker-cut action sequences rather than endless long takes. His images aren’t cut up like paper in a shredder though. The action and the editing flow together well allowing every tightly packed frame to make its mark and not feel needlessly cut in two.
4. It’s Not Me
Leo Carax is certainly a director to attracts a lot of attention to himself. The projects he has been putting out of late definitely showcase that. It’s Not Me treads a line reminiscent of the works of legendary French filmmaker Chris Marker. A 42 minute film, that sits an introspective look at the evolution of the cinematic landscape. All through his own art and images that are also not his own. Carax’s obsession with images here is what puts this film in line with Marker’s Le Jetée or Sans Soleil. It strikes a perfect balance between self-criticality and self-indulgence, as he glosses over 20th and 21st-century political history in tandem with the medium’s history.
To view this through your own art is a self-indulgent risk but one that does pay off. He treats our eyes and films visual advantage carefully, all while reminding us of its most valuable asset. A harsh but equally as captivating little project.
5. MadS
French cinema frequently spices things up across many genres. Mads takes the infected zombie premise and inflicts newfound terror by tackling it all in one take. Well, that is what it is made to look like. Its real-time, frenetic nature plays to this film’s strengths by allowing it to build its tight scale and well-executed plot devices. Each moment of panic and chaos only builds in tension each time as it reaches its wider-scale climax. Its score and soundtrack amplify a sense of rhythm to its madness. It manages to flow along neatly and doesn’t drag on a minute longer than it should.
Effective horror storytelling is made better by its single vision. It could easily be seen as a cheap gimmick but ends up as something genuinely effective.
