Justin Chang

The most significant supporting character is Pansy's younger sister, Chantel, played by the luminous Michelle Austin, another Secrets and Lies alum. Chantal could scarcely be more different from her sister. She's a joyous, contented woman, with two adult daughters of her own. And she does everything she can to break through to Pansy.

In the movie's most affecting scene, Chantel drags her sister to a cemetery to pay their respects to their mother, whose sudden death five years ago, we sense, is at the core of Pansy's unhappiness. At the same time, Lee doesn't fill in every blank. He's too honest a filmmaker to offer up easy explanations for why people feel the way they feel.

In the movie's most affecting scene, Chantel drags her sister to a cemetery to pay their respects to their mother, whose sudden death five years ago, we sense, is at the core of Pansy's unhappiness. At the same time, Lee doesn't fill in every blank. He's too honest a filmmaker to offer up easy explanations for why people feel the way they feel.

In the movie's most affecting scene, Chantel drags her sister to a cemetery to pay their respects to their mother, whose sudden death five years ago, we sense, is at the core of Pansy's unhappiness. At the same time, Lee doesn't fill in every blank. He's too honest a filmmaker to offer up easy explanations for why people feel the way they feel.

His attitude toward Pansy, and toward all the prickly, outspoken, altogether marvelous characters he's given us, is best expressed in that graveside scene, when Chantel wraps her sister in a tight hug and tells her, with equal parts exasperation and affection, I don't understand you, but I love you.

His attitude toward Pansy, and toward all the prickly, outspoken, altogether marvelous characters he's given us, is best expressed in that graveside scene, when Chantel wraps her sister in a tight hug and tells her, with equal parts exasperation and affection, I don't understand you, but I love you.

His attitude toward Pansy, and toward all the prickly, outspoken, altogether marvelous characters he's given us, is best expressed in that graveside scene, when Chantel wraps her sister in a tight hug and tells her, with equal parts exasperation and affection, I don't understand you, but I love you.

It's often said that December for film critics is like tax season for accountants. This is our crunch time, when we try to take stock of the past 12 months' worth of movies and determine our favorites. Good luck getting us to agree on anything.

It's often said that December for film critics is like tax season for accountants. This is our crunch time, when we try to take stock of the past 12 months' worth of movies and determine our favorites. Good luck getting us to agree on anything.

It's often said that December for film critics is like tax season for accountants. This is our crunch time, when we try to take stock of the past 12 months' worth of movies and determine our favorites. Good luck getting us to agree on anything.

Earlier this month, the New York Film Critics Circle gave its Best Picture award to The Brutalist, Brady Corbett's sweeping post-war drama about a Hungarian-Jewish architect's American rebirth. A few days later, the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, of which I'm a member, gave its top prize to Anora, Sean Baker's madly entertaining farce about a Brooklyn sex worker.

Earlier this month, the New York Film Critics Circle gave its Best Picture award to The Brutalist, Brady Corbett's sweeping post-war drama about a Hungarian-Jewish architect's American rebirth. A few days later, the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, of which I'm a member, gave its top prize to Anora, Sean Baker's madly entertaining farce about a Brooklyn sex worker.

Earlier this month, the New York Film Critics Circle gave its Best Picture award to The Brutalist, Brady Corbett's sweeping post-war drama about a Hungarian-Jewish architect's American rebirth. A few days later, the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, of which I'm a member, gave its top prize to Anora, Sean Baker's madly entertaining farce about a Brooklyn sex worker.

It says something about the quality of the movies this year that as much as I like Anora and The Brutalist, both titles landed just outside my own personal list of favorites. Here, then, are the ten, no, eleven, best movies of 2024.

It says something about the quality of the movies this year that as much as I like Anora and The Brutalist, both titles landed just outside my own personal list of favorites. Here, then, are the ten, no, eleven, best movies of 2024.

It says something about the quality of the movies this year that as much as I like Anora and The Brutalist, both titles landed just outside my own personal list of favorites. Here, then, are the ten, no, eleven, best movies of 2024.

My number one movie of the year is Close Your Eyes, the latest from the legendary Spanish filmmaker Victor Erice, who's best known for his 1973 classic, The Spirit of the Beehive.

My number one movie of the year is Close Your Eyes, the latest from the legendary Spanish filmmaker Victor Erice, who's best known for his 1973 classic, The Spirit of the Beehive.

My number one movie of the year is Close Your Eyes, the latest from the legendary Spanish filmmaker Victor Erice, who's best known for his 1973 classic, The Spirit of the Beehive.

Close Your Eyes is the first feature he's directed in roughly three decades, and it's an intensely personal work about a long-retired filmmaker trying to solve the mystery of what happened to an old friend who vanished years earlier.