For Hollywood-centric people, the festivities of their chosen holiday and the countdown to the New Year mean different rituals for each season. Accountants tally box office receipts and critics compile top 10 lists. The first has the advantage of mathematical precision, and the second the satisfaction of competing tastes, which together neatly encompass the commerce and art that define the topic at hand. That means it’s time to create a montage of images from the past year to get a sense of the big picture.
From a commercial perspective, especially for the demise of the tattered exhibition business, the news for 2024 was surprisingly not bad. Total domestic box office revenue is expected to be on track for about $8 billion, down from a refreshing post-COVID-19 turnaround of $9 billion in 2023, but the National Association of Theater Owners highlights positive news. The company blames the decline on product shortages caused by the coronavirus pandemic. We are encouraged by the workers’ strike and the revival of the movie habit. Whether it’s cabin fever, Nicole Kidman, or the year-end release of a movie people really wanted to see, going to the movies seems to be back as a right-swipe option on the entertainment menu.
Predictably, and unfortunately in a sign of things to come, the films that attracted the biggest audiences were those that fed on the lure of advance sales. All of the top 10 box office hits of 2024 were either sequels, remakes (Was Twisters a sequel or a remake?), or prequels. The numerical formula is evidenced by the number after the title, and you don’t have to spend extra effort thinking of a subtitle (Moana 2, Kung Fu Panda 4). Descriptive subtitles didn’t help Joker: Folie à Deux or Furiosa: A. Mad Max Saga. The Gladiator II wisely retained the Roman numeral branding.
Interestingly, or perhaps thankfully, the Marvel, DC, and Star Wars movie universes have failed to expand. With the exception of Deadpool and Wolverine, there wasn’t a single blockbuster hit from a comic book series or a galaxy far, far away. The good news for the theater chain is tempered by bad news for the audience, not the movie, once it arrives in theaters. The moviegoing experience of 2024 cannot be rewound without grumpy howling at the intrusion of moviegoers who see movie screens as a distraction from the screen in front of them. . Anecdotally from a regular moviegoer, namely me, the prevalence of screen lighting, texting, and talking has increased alarmingly, and this year brings a new hell: the brazen recording of clips from the screen. It is said that they are doing so.
One might wonder if the hiatus from the small screen will permanently disrupt the big screen theatrical experience. Of course, obnoxious, inconsiderate, and narcissistic moviegoers are always a nuisance to audiences trying to watch a movie. So at Nickelodeon, a slide was shown on the screen to remind women to take off their hats. Gentlemen should refrain from coughing up tobacco juice.
Watching movies, circa 1940s.
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But throughout the classic Hollywood era, audiences generally adhered to etiquette that seemed plucked from a Jane Austen novel. Sure, the audience had louder, more raucous expressions of participation: hissing, cheering, clapping, and the occasional wisecracking, but the reaction was collective and inspired by the story on screen. It had been. Rather than distracting from the movie-watching experience, they enhanced it.
Exhibitor trade publications, particularly the Motion Picture Herald’s monthly “Better Theater” section, paid considerable attention to finding ways to foster an atmosphere conducive to a fun night out. At the time, even small neighborhood theaters employed uniformed ushers who carried flashlights to usher latecomers to their seats, patrol the aisles, and deal with persistent customers. Guards were given strict instructions on how to behave while on duty. “Let anyone who is clearly intoxicated go outside,” “Use tact to keep unruly patrons and children quiet,” and “Beware of mashers, perverts, and idiots.” Please report to management immediately. ” (Also, “Never flirt with patrons.”)
Even in the 1950s, when teenagers became the primary audience, good kids worked with local theater managers to police themselves and discourage rowdy behavior. A 1952 high school newspaper editorial advised, “When we go to the theater, we must remember that we are only purchasing one seat.” Everyone has movie etiquette. ” That same year, a teenage girl wrote to Photoplay asking Colbert Calvert if it was appropriate for her to whisper to her boyfriend during the show. “It is highly unethical for theater patrons to carry on personal or critical conversations during a performance,” Colbert responded.
With the proliferation of handheld technology and the collapse of public etiquette (and don’t get me started on the oblivion scrollers rigged to gym Nautilus machines), exhibitors have limited options. Most theaters now display PSAs before the release of feature films politely reminding moviegoers to quiet their devices, but compliance cannot be enforced. The issue is serious enough that it inspired one of the year’s best movie tie-ins, Deadpool and Wolverine’s “Silence Cellphone” PSA, which conveys its message in admirably blunt terms. If only Wolverine could follow through on his threat to deal with the culprit in a forbidden way.
Indeed, no responsible film critic would fire up an iPhone or laptop in a movie theater and jot down a Top 10 list, which has been the profession’s annual obligation for over 100 years. Credit for creating this practice is disputed by several plaintiffs. The National Board of Review, established in 1909 and still active today, formed a special review committee in 1920 to “investigate films that appear to have unusual qualifications; ” Every month, the board has designed a “Best Bet” in the publication “Exceptional Photoplays”. First winner: Reginald Barker’s Godless Men, an ocean adventure film produced by Sam Goldwyn.
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The trade publication Film Daily, published from 1915 to 1970, also claimed that the practice began in 1921. The initial selection was done in-house, but editors quickly collated the results in newspapers, trade magazines, and fan magazines and published front-page articles on the finalists. “Public opinion polls have become a national event, made possible only by the enthusiastic cooperation of some 400 newspaper workers across the country,” the editors proudly said in 1930, when the top 10 The top was easy. Erich Marie Remarque’s anti-war novel “All Quiet on the Western Front.”
In 1923, New York Times film critic Mordaunt Hall selected ten titles from the more than 200 films reviewed by the newspaper that year. His list includes Charles Chaplin’s comedy of manners, A Woman in Paris, Ernst Lubitsch’s American debut Rosita, Eugene O’Neill’s Anna Christie, directed by Thomas Ince; To show that it wasn’t too much, crowd-pleasers like James Cruise’s epic western The Woman were included. A covered wagon and Wallace Worsley’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
As verified by the New York Times, few big-city film critics dared to remove it from their year-end chores. In 1930, George Gerhardt of the New York Evening World declared, “At Thanksgiving, film students begin selecting the ten best films of the year.” The studio’s advertising pub division soon started paying attention to the rankings, as well. filmmakers. In 1935, David O. Selznick told The Hollywood Reporter that he wanted to make a movie that would be “on the list of the top ten, both commercially and artistically.” MGM boasted that its 1938 lineup “featured more winning films on the Film Critics’ list of the year’s top 10 nationally released films than any other company.”
Today, individual critics, film societies, websites, and at least one former president continue the tradition for the same reason: mutual benefit. While the announcement of the list will increase access to critics, the prestigious film will gain prestige and hopes to increase attendance. Critics’ picks reveal the gulf between the preferences of those eligible, who in most cases receive regular invitations to press screenings, and those of ticket buyers who have to wait in line at shopping malls. Make it. Director David O. Selznick’s desire remains a Platonic ideal, a film that will make the top ten list and enjoy commercial and artistic benefits. They are “The Best Days of Our Lives” in 1946, “Saving Private Ryan” in 1998, and “Oppenheimer” in 2023. This year, only blockbusters “Wicked” and “Complete Unknown” seem to have pricked the needle.
The 2024 critics’ favorite four appear in matching pairs: the transgender-themed Emilia Perez and Conclave, and the body-and-fantasy provocation Anora and The Substance. It’s not often that it makes the top 10, but it’s an exceptional year for teen horror, enlivened by dynamic performances from young female protagonists. Hunter Schaefer in Cuckoo, Naomi Scott in Smile 2, Maika Monroe in Longlegs and, of course, Mia Goth, who concluded her generational horror trilogy with MaXXXine.
By contrast, there’s little theatricality to the documentaries, with the notable exception of director Matt Walsh’s “Am I a Racist?,” a Michael Moore-esque critique of DEI bureaucracy It was. Ignored or panned by critics, the film was a prime example of the gulf between elite and popular tastes. Perhaps not coincidentally, of all the movies released in 2024, “Am I a Racist?” It turns out that the most reliable indicator of the future shape of things is a change in the zeitgeist. The commercial and artistic story of Hollywood in 2025 will be about how to connect culturally with audiences who often don’t align politically.
