LFF 2024: The Top 5
This year, I had the great privilege of attending the BFI London Film Festival as a press delegate. After seeing a large portion of festival headliners and alternative projects, it felt like listicle time… For the sake of brevity, I’ve condensed my reviews into a top 5.
A huge shoutout to all the volunteers who made the festival run incredibly smoothly. As a regular festival volunteer, I know how much work goes into it.
So, here goes — ranking time.
#5 Families Like Ours, eps 1-2 dir. Thomas Vinterberg
Amaryllis August and Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt in Families Like Ours dir. Thomas Vinterberg. Image courtesy of Getty Images
This might be cheating, as Families Like Ours is a show, not a film — but this list didn’t feel complete without Thomas Vinterberg’s first foray into television. The virtuoso Danish director stays true to form, with a grounded project that — while straying into a fictional imagining of a near-future Denmark facing complete collapse — feels as real as his most compelling works like The Hunt.
Many familiar faces (Magnus Millang, Thomas Bo Larsen) join the network of families and friends whose lives are overturned by the Danish government’s announcement of a country-wide evacuation facing catastrophic rising sea levels. The central drama is expertly conceived and executed, with both attention to detail and crucial injections of humanity preventing any sense of contrivance. It’s a powerful story about ‘protecting one’s own’, and what that even means when faced with so universal a threat as climate breakdown.
The human drama is taut and utterly believable — Vinterberg is no stranger to complicating sympathies and overturning tropes. And he avoids any ponderousness with confident camerawork, nuanced performances, and some unexpected needle-drops -- Nick Drake was a pleasant surprise.
It promises to be an extremely strong series.
#4 Conclave dir. Edward Berger
Will they notice I ate all the leftovers? Ralph Fiennes in Conclave dir. Edward Berger. Image courtesy of Getty Images
The election of a new pope by a set of petty, feuding cardinals proves to be an unexpectedly gripping narrative in Conclave. It’s safe to expect a lot of Oscars attention — and for good reason.
Ralph Fiennes pulls off a highly memorable turn as the composed but weary Lawrence, belaboured just as much by his inner demons as his peacekeeping responsibilities. Fiennes is no stranger to managerial roles — M from James Bond; Gustave in The Grand Budapest Hotel — but this is a markedly more fleshed-out and layered performance than what has come before. The cracks in his repressed anger show in choice vein-bursting moments, ringing out amid an atmosphere of false certainties.
Conclave has quite simply a knockout ensemble cast: Stanley Tucci as Bellini, a finicky and negative predictor of doom; Lucian Msamati as Adeyemi, with complex and fiery charisma; Isabella Rosselini as Sister Agnes, leading the enclosure’s nuns with grace and severity; Sergio Castellitto as a brash, liberal-bashing Italian conservative. Carlos Diehz brings the voice of holiness and reason to the collective as the genuinely holy, grounded presence of Benitez, key to a surprise but thematically resonant twist at the film’s close. Everyone gets their time in the sun — or in the shade of Suzie Davies’ immaculate production design, as the case may be.
In its handling of its subject matter with maturity, intelligence and confidence, this film is a much more sumptuous offering than Berger’s second-most recent film, 2022’s All Quiet on the Western Front. Strong too is Volker Bertelmann’s score, impactful and earthy if slightly relentless. (Don’t go to a screening with descriptive subtitles unless you want to read ‘treacherous beat’ every few minutes.)
It’s satisfying to see a film of so many themes end with both a question and a resolution. Conclave joins the likes of First Reformed and Silence as one of the best Christian-faith-based dramas of the last decade.
#3 Anora dir. Sean Baker
Happiness... and loneliness... Mikey Madison in Anora (2024) dir. Sean Baker. Image courtesy of Getty Images
The opening of Anora prepares you for a gritty but otherwise run-of-the-mill drama about the daily life of sex work. It does not prepare you for the wild dark comedy that unfolds expertly, frenetically, with a Safdie Brothers-style delirium. Anyone who’s seen Uncut Gems knows that’s a compliment.
Mikey Madison shines as the titular sex worker — who prefers Ani — embarking on what seems like a raucous Pretty Woman-style opportunity with immature Russian rich kid Ivan (Mark Eidelshtein). But it quickly transpires there’s little redemption to be had in their blossoming romance, after Ivan’s family are determined to break them up. Cue a relentless, outrageous (and incredibly foul-mouthed) rollercoaster.
Ivan’s family henchmen Toros (Karren Karagulian) and Garnick (Vache Tovmasyan) elevate the comedy to new heights. Their bewildered despair and botched attempts to contain Ani make for the funniest scenes, paired off with the strange innocent pathos of Igor (Yura Borisov). None of this would work without a certain kind of savage energy that Madison brings to the table.
That energy is matched by (for me, acutely funny) needle-drops — the t.A.T.u. classic All The Things She Said; Slayyyter’s Daddy AF — adding yet more texture to the chaos that surrounds Ani, and that she herself generates.
Anora’s ending puts an abrupt halt to the breathless action, forcing a reflection on the thematic seeds that had been planted along the way. It’s a very entertaining ride, but should it feel that way? What are the hidden costs, the hidden burdens that the American underclass have to bear (a question many of Sean Baker’s films are concerned with)? What does it cost someone like Ani to dream of a different life, no matter how unrealistic?
While it doesn’t quite reach the heights of The Florida Project — and is perhaps too eager with its use of slurs — Anora is another hit from Baker, with a career-best turn from Madison.
#2 The Extraordinary Miss Flower dir. Iain Forsyth and Jane Pollard
So let's keep dancing... Emíliana Torrini in The Extraordinary Miss Flower (2024) dir. Iain Forsyth and Jane Pollard. Image courtesy of Getty Images
This magnificent feature from directorial duo Iain Forsyth and Jane Pollard was the greatest hidden gem from LFF this year. It really has to be seen to be believed.
Short and snappy at 73 minutes — and filmed over just two days — the piece announces itself as a “performance film”, somewhere between a documentary, filmed theatre, and live recording. Suffice it to say this strange cinematic formula is as winning as it is unique. Forsyth and Pollard replicate their success from 20,000 Days on Earth, proving they have an unmatched skill and creative energy in hybrid filmmaking.
Caroline Catz plays the eponymous Geraldine Flower, a real-life Australian-British woman with a treasure trove of recently-discovered love letters revealing a passionate, storied life (so much so that some of her correspondences were suspected of being a cover for espionage). Scenes in which Geraldine’s various lovers read out their letters to her feature delightful cameos from Richard Ayoade and Nick Cave and were somehow reminiscent of Wes Anderson’s Roald Dahl shorts. The romantic texture is both indulgent and brilliantly lacking in any conceit.
But it’s the immensely talented Emíliana Torrini who provides the musical backbone to the project alongside a host of other performers, setting phrases and looser inspirations from the letters to song. Both the musical performance and Torrini herself radiate a supremely infectious, lyrical joy. She is a radiant and completely natural screen presence, with a permanent, inviting twinkle in her eye.
The Extraordinary Miss Flower is an incredibly refreshing piece of creative independent cinema. The hearts of love and creativity still beat.
#1 Black Box Diaries dir. Shiori Itô
Shiori Itô and her close friend in Black Box Diaries (2024) dir. Shiori Itô. Image courtesy of Getty Images
Shiori Itô’s outstanding documentary is both a beautiful piece of filmmaking and a genuinely affecting statement. It is the best film I saw at this year’s LFF.
Cinema is a machine for empathy. To have this truth affirmed by excellent films such as Black Box Diaries is a beautiful experience. Every aspect of documentary filmmaking is used to full effect in this utterly gripping story, in which Shiori records her own journey as investigative journalist and reluctant face of the #MeToo campaign in Japan, building the case for a trial against the man who raped her. The tone is perfectly pitched, as well as incredibly genuine, with both a natural and well-considered progression: from the steps of Shiori’s long journey to justice, to her respectful and resonant calls for compassion, to her reactions to the kindnesses that she meets from those who help her investigation.
I simply cannot imagine the level of resilience and courage it takes to spend multiple years fighting for your voice to be heard in the midst of a system rife with outdated laws and abuse of power. And to do so not only with an eye for narrative, but with an incredibly compelling screen presence, is something else.
The joy and lighter moments are well-calculated too, both as reliefs but also as vital injections of a broader scope of humanity to Shiori and her story. Her documentary is, among so many other things, a campaign: for people in her position to be seen not simply as victims, nor (as some reactionary forces would have it) selfish and punitive, seeking to destroy the reputations of high-ranking men.
Shiori is, as she successfully presents herself, a rounded, intelligent and ferociously empathetic person. She has made a very important film, and I am personally very excited to see what she does next.
And that's a wrap for the top 5 films of LFF 2024. There are plenty of honourable mentions that I might cover in the near future, so stay tuned if your favourites didn't make an appearance... Thank you for reading!