I really enjoyed the exercise last year of handing out plaudits across a wide variety of performance categories, rather than limiting myself to a strict top 10. The goal here, as always, is to celebrate cinema, so the more films we get to talk about, the more we get to celebrate. And, we could all use a little celebration right now.
Admittedly, the reason I did it last year was because a traditional top 10 would have been stuffed with entries from All of Us Strangers and May December, so I wanted to recognize more performers and films than just those two. There is no similar issue this year, and in fact, all 10 of my top performances come from different movies. Still, it’s fun to talk about the great ensembles, the great debuts, and the great wild cards from a year of cinema.
First, let’s do some honorable mentions, and this is going to be a theme this year, so bear with me, but the honorable mentions are overflowing.
Two ensembles that just missed the top five: His Three Daughters, featuring tonally daring and emotionally brave work from a trio of brilliant actresses – Carrie Coon, Natasha Lyonne, and Elizabeth Olsen – as well as show-stopping single-scene work from both Jovan Adepo and Jay O. Sanders; and A Complete Unknown – you’ll hear more about Timothée Chalamet below, but Elle Fanning, Monica Barbarbo, Edward Norton, and Boyd Holbrook are the highlights of a cast that does not so much imitate as embody these well-known folks.
As far as individuals, I’ve got eight honorable mentions. That’s the kind of year it was. Here they are, alphabetically:
Kieran Culkin in A Real Pain, whose real prize will be the Oscar he is going to win but I love this performance just like everyone else; Jesse Eisenberg in A Real Pain, who is doing the most subtle, interesting, and impressive work of his lengthy acting career while directing himself, which is no easy feat; Mia Goth in MaXXXine, who finds new depth and nuance in a franchise not wholly committed to subtlety; Hugh Grant in Heretic, whose charm is finally being put to proper use and whose villain era I am totally here for.
Demi Moore in The Substance, who has redefined the word comeback with the boldest, bravest work of her career; Margaret Qualley in The Substance, who must embody an ideal, along with the burdens and contradictions that implies; June Squibb in Thelma, a national treasure who walks a fine line with a performance that garners sympathy but not condescension; and Denzel Washington in Gladiator II, who proves once again that he is the greatest of all time – let this man have fun like this always.
Okay, those are the honorable mentions. Now, for the awards of special merit, I brought back last year’s categories and added a couple new ones.
Awards of Special Merit
Best performance by a child actor: Izaac Wang in Dìdi
Wang just gets it. He’s a star. Much like Eighth Grade made it clear Elsie Fisher was destined for greatness, Dìdi – an Eighth Grade for those of us who grew up just as social media became a thing – does so for Wang. I was lucky enough to see Wang speak after a screening of this film, and he was bright, funny, outgoing, effusive – everything his character is not. Yet, Wang brilliantly captures the malaise of constantly feeling like your bones are going to explode out of your skin, like you don’t belong anywhere while everyone else belongs everywhere. It’s funny, it’s sad, and most importantly, it’s honest.
Best debut performance: Nykiya Adams in Bird
A 12-year-old non-actor when writer-director Andrea Arnold spotted her at her school during the casting process, Adams absolutely levitates off the screen in Bird. Her character, Bailey, is holding everything together for a family that is falling apart, all while dealing with the stuff any normal preteen would be dealing with, as well. It’s a tight-rope walk between snotty adolescent and overburdened youngster, and Adams navigates it like a seasoned pro, holding the screen with ease against international stars Barry Keoghan and Franz Rogowski.
Most surprising performance: Gabriel Labelle in Snack Shack
Labelle is very good as a young Lorne Michaels in Saturday Night, but I saw The Fablemans. I knew he could play a sensitive artist almost monomaniacally focused on executing his vision. What I didn’t know he could do was channel Jonah Hill circa 2008 and steal a movie out from under the sensitive artist lead with a gonzo performance of equal parts vulgarity and heart.
The Mia Goth Award for Most Unhinged Performance: Mikey Madison in Anora
Goth does not defend her title here as I found her tremendous work in MaXXXine to be some of her quietest and most introspective. Taking up the mantle instead is Mikey Madison for Anora. I won’t lie. You’re going to hear more about her below, so I won’t spend too much time on her here. Madison’s Anora performance is not solely based on how unhinged she can get – the beauty is in the modulation – but when she needs to, Madison blows the hinges off the damn door.
Best overall year: Fred Hechinger for Thelma, Gladiator II, and Nickel Boys
I considered a few different performers for this, and Scoot McNairy (A Complete Unknown, Nightbitch, Speak No Evil) probably has the best runner-up case. But at the end of the day, no one could match Hechinger’s 2024 for the variety of roles, the quality of the projects, and the skill with which he brought each of them to life. Shy, sweet grandson. Demented emperor. Racist toady. It’s the definition of range, and I can’t wait to see what he does in 2025 and beyond.
Top 5 Ensembles
5. Civil War
Outstanding cast members: Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Cailee Spaeny, Stephen McKinley Henderson, and Jesse Plemons
Civil War makes a nice double feature with the Kate Winslet-starring biopic Lee, about Vogue photographer Lee Miller. Journalists who cover war zones are a different breed. It takes a disregard for the self in service of something greater. War reportage is one of the noblest professions because it seeks to warn of the dangers we pose to ourselves if we continue down this path. The Dunst character in Civil War, named Lee after the real-life Lee Miller, says as much: “Every time I survived a war zone, I thought I was sending a warning home – don’t do this.”
Dunst, Moura, and Henderson play longtime journalists who have seen it all. That constant exposure to the worst of humanity has hardened them. Dunst, in particular, shines as a woman questioning whether she is still capable of empathy and what this was all for if we still ended up in the same place. Into this collection of folks walks young wannabe Jessie (Spaeny), who idolizes Lee but cannot see the toll it has taken on her.
I mentioned Plemons in my Top 10 Moments column, but it bears repeating the level of menace he brings to a brief appearance on screen (he’s also great in Kinds of Kindness this year). I saw this movie not too long after I finally caught up with Priscilla, and Spaeny is clearly destined for big things. I missed the Elite Squad movies and I’ve never seen the television show Narcos, so Moura was an actor with whom I was completely unfamiliar, but he is fantastic as Lee’s counterpoint, equally hardened but unbothered by deeper questions. Meanwhile, Henderson elevates everything he appears in, and this is no exception.
4. The Piano Lesson
Outstanding cast members: John David Washington, Danielle Deadwyler, Ray Fisher, Corey Hawkins, Samuel L. Jackson, and Michael Potts
The third of producer Denzel Washington’s 10 planned August Wilson adaptations to make it to the screen, The Piano Lesson is a domestic drama about family legacies and the debts we owe to those who came before us. Like any Wilson play, it is an absolute feast for the performers smart enough not to chew the scenery; the words are meal enough.
John David Washington and Deadwyler go toe to toe for the duration of the film, battling over their family piano and the value of history against the possibilities of the future. Jackson and Potts represent the older generation, content to leave well enough alone and let the past be the past, regardless of how traumatizing. Hawkins is likewise superb as a preacher trying to woo Deadwyler’s character, trapped between his love for her and society’s expectations of him.
The real surprise here, though, is Fisher as Lymon, a little slow on the uptake but more emotionally attuned than any of the other characters. After the Justice League debacle that partly centered on Fisher’s Cyborg character – a mess the actor had no hand in creating – it is a joy to see Fisher break free of the CGI superhero fare and embody a flesh-and-blood human. Hollywood should ask him to do that more often. He’s excellent at it.
3. Anora
Outstanding cast members: Mikey Madison, Mark Eydelshteyn, Yura Borisov, and Karren Karagulian
For all of the other things it is, Anora is a fascinating exploration of what happens when characters don’t realize they are on the same side. Ani (Madison) loves Vanya (Eydelshteyn) and wants to believe he could love her. Toros (Karagulian) is the lackey for the Russian oligarch who is Vanya’s father, and Igor (Borisov) is his muscle.
Ani believes it’s she and Vanya against the world, which is what the first half of the film establishes. What the second half makes clear, however, is that Ani, Toros, and Igor all operate at the whim of the oligarch – and by extension, Vanya. Because of all these cross-purposes and shared purposes, the character dynamics are constantly shifting. Who has power over whom is an ever-changing negotiation. All four actors embody these complexities flawlessly.
Madison is the heart and soul of the film, the eye of the storm, the center around which all things revolve. Eydelshteyn perfectly captures a certain brand of youthful idiocy combined with wealthful ignorance. Karagulian’s part of the put upon fixer is familiar, but the actor finds new levels to play within the classic trope. And, Borisov is the emotional fulcrum of it all, the audience surrogate who sees what is happening but is powerless to stop it. Together, it makes for a fascinating stew.
2. The Seed of the Sacred Fig
Outstanding cast members: Misagh Zare, Soheila Golestani, Mahsa Rostami, and Setareh Maleki
Because of the circumstances of filming, which we will get into more in the next column, much of the action of The Seed of the Sacred Fig is confined to a couple locations and a limited cast of characters. At the core of that cast are Zare, Golestani, Rostami, and Maleki as a family torn apart by the winds of change in a nation that often violently resists such ideas.
Zare is Iman, the patriarch of the family, given a promotion within the “justice” system of the oppressive Iranian regime. Najmeh (Golestani) is his loving wife who is thrilled at the potential for social advancement and monetary reward. Rezvan (Rostami) and Sana (Maleki) are their two teenage daughters, part of a new generation of Iranian women, intent on questioning the ways and wisdom of the old guard.
As emotional violence evolves into real violence, the actors clue us in to every step of the journey their characters are on. Zare shows us how power corrupts a man who was concerned with justice but now is concerned only with power. Golestani is spot on as a woman who is so close to everything she wants but is forced to watch it crumble just as it is within her grasp. Rostami is the older daughter, the one of whom much is expected and to whom little is given, and the actor makes us part of her struggle. Maleki, finally, is tremendous as the younger daughter with the most to lose from a fractured family but the most to gain from a changing world.
1. Conclave
Outstanding cast members: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow, Isabella Rossellini, Lucian Msamati, Carlos Diehz, and Sergio Castellitto
Conclave is the kind of movie ensemble awards were created to honor. It’s a massive cast of capital ‘A’ Actors doing capital ‘A’ Acting in all the best ways. Director Edward Berger, writer Peter Straughan, and this magnificent cast craft a group of distinct characters defined by their individual wants and needs, debts and grievances, qualities and faults.
As I said in my moments column, Conclave is a movie about decisions, and every character has multiple decisions to make. When they make them, we fully understand why because the actors (and filmmakers) have imbued them with such internal life that they could only do the things they do. It is destined. This is who they are. We know this because each performer is able to take that internal life and externalize in ways both big and small, allowing us to see inside this world with all its challenges and contradictions.
Fiennes is the fracturing conscience of the film. Tucci is the realist who so badly wants to be an idealist. Lithgow, always so great to see on screen, is the establishment, the representative of the way things have always been done. Rossellini gives voice to a group of women who see all but are expected to share nothing. Msamati is an embodiment of the limits of forgiveness and the past that haunts us. Diehz is the stranger, the wild card, the man who could mean anything to anyone and so represents everything to everyone. Castellitto is the pull of tradition, the lure of the old way because wasn’t it all so much simpler then?
Top 10 Performances
10. Nicolas Hoult in Juror #2
Much was made of Clint Eastwood and Juror #2 getting the short end of the stick from Warners this year. It’s a shame what it means for the industry at large, yes, but it’s also a shame for Hoult, whose career-best work went underseen because of studio politics. The heart of Juror #2 is a moral dilemma, and as the title juror, Hoult must infuse his performance with all the searching, the fear, and the pain of that dilemma. Not every actor thrives under Eastwood’s one-take style of filmmaking, but Hoult does more than thrive. He excels.
9. Nell Tiger Free in The First Omen
There were a lot of great performances this year in horror films, a genre always criminally underappreciated by the Academy. We might sneak a couple in there this year, but I can guarantee it won’t be for anything as fierce and fearless as Free’s work in this shockingly good prequel. Free gives herself fully to the role of Margaret, a young nun paranoid for good reason and haunted by a past she cannot quite access. Free, whom I mostly recognize as the ill-fated Myrcella on Game of Thrones, plays every level of grief and anguish imaginable, from screaming in pain to near catatonic shock, and it’s riveting.
8. Danielle Deadwyler in The Piano Lesson
Two years ago, Deadwyler was robbed of an Academy Award nomination for her absolutely stunning work in Till. If it happens again this year – and it very well could – we riot. As Berniece, Deadwyler carries the weight of a tragic family history and must live with the consequences of what that history has wrought. Deadwyler finds every nuance, every subtlety in August Wilson’s words and brings them to life with the full force of her talents. Then, in the film’s remarkable climax, she wordlessly brings the house down, allowing 200-plus years of grief and loss to flow from her like a river.
7. Ralph Fiennes in Conclave
Fiennes uses stillness like a weapon. His stoicism is his gift. When he speaks, it matters because you can see the contemplation that comes before. The words carry weight because you know each one has been carefully chosen, precisely placed, specifically enunciated. Cardinal Lawrence is a man with a lot on his mind and with no one to turn to because everyone keeps turning to him. He is cursed by uncertainty, but he turns that doubt into a cause. Fiennes allows us to see the gears turning within a man who is working overtime to make it all make sense. It’s sensitive. It’s insightful. It’s brilliant.
6. Timothée Chalamet in A Complete Unknown
Chalamet has crafted the perfect movie star playbook for the modern era. He does all the silly press stuff that’s required of stars these days, but he knows it’s silly and has fun with it. He works with great directors like Greta Gerwig, Denis Villeneuve, and James Mangold. He takes the work seriously – he spent years learning the guitar for A Complete Unknown. And, he’s got the talent to back it all up. Here, he captures the essence of Bob Dylan without ever tipping into parody. He never makes the mistake of trying to solve the mystery of our most unknowable icon. He lives in that mystery, which is the most Dylan-esque thing one can do.
5. Juliette Gariépy in Red Rooms
Canadian filmmaker Pascal Plante’s Red Rooms is the most disturbing movie of the year. It’s also excellent. It owes both of those facts largely to the lead performance of Gariépy as a woman obsessed with a serial killer who is on trial for his murders. Her quiet remove from the people around her is almost inhuman. She seems nearly possessed by the object of her obsession.
She is a cypher, and we read into her what we believe about our society, about each other, and about ourselves. We can’t understand why she does what she does because we barely understand why we do what we do. Gariépy somehow makes these puzzle pieces fit, and it’s on us if we don’t like the picture it creates.
4. Sebastian Stan in A Different Man
It’s kind of a bummer to look at Stan’s upcoming projects and see three more Marvel movies on the slate. That said, the double bill this year of A Different Man and The Apprentice prove that Stan is more capable than most of turning his MCU caché into artistic gold. If he is willing to strap on the spandex a couple more times to get these kinds of projects made, then so be it. A brief word on The Apprentice, in which Stan is also excellent: I do think the film has been unfairly maligned due to its subject matter, but it is a fascinating document that maybe hits a little too close to home right now. It will age well.
In A Different Man, Stan portrays a man with a facial deformity who undergoes an experimental medical procedure that turns him into someone who looks like Sebastian Stan. Ultimately, this does not have the desired effect because, as the film argues, the soul remains the same. As a performer, Stan inhabits that soul, capturing the despair of a man who is desperate to be seen but who cannot bear to look at himself, no matter what he looks like. In physicality, in speech, in spirit, Stan embodies this character fully, and it is a sight to behold.
3. Marianne Jean-Baptiste in Hard Truths
I held off on compiling my year-in-review content for an extra week specifically so that I could see this film. I missed a couple early-access screenings and had to wait for its general release. I’m so glad I did. Jean-Baptiste is electric in the role of Pansy, a woman who is almost psychotically unpleasant. She is all sharp edges and corners, and Jean-Baptiste does nothing to soften her. That would defeat the purpose.
In committing to this level of unlikability, the performer forces us to confront our own capacity for empathy. Can we show compassion to a woman who seems to have none to give? Can we see through the complaints and insults to find the woman crying out for someone – anyone – to understand her? There is no happy ending, no easy answer, just a question of how far we are willing to extend kindness to the people around us when kindness seems to be in such short supply. It’s a beautiful, shattering performance that demands our attention.
2. Colman Domingo in Sing Sing
It only seems like Domingo is having the kind of later-in-life career emergence awarded to a precious few. In reality, Hollywood was just behind everyone else in taking notice of a Broadway star who deserves the biggest stage possible. Last year was a screen breakout of sorts for Domingo who received an Academy Award nomination for his lovely work in Rustin and who portrayed the antagonist of the popular musical adaptation The Color Purple. Those were both wonderful showcases for his talent, but Sing Sing is something else entirely.
Here, Domingo portrays John “Divine G” Whitfield, a real-life prisoner (the actual Divine G has a cameo in the film) who is an integral member of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts program, which gets incarcerated people involved in putting on theater productions. While fighting to overturn his own wrongful conviction, Divine G dedicates his time in confinement to helping others, both with the theater program and through clemency efforts.
Through Domingo, we see the toll incarceration takes on the body and spirit, the inhumanity of a system designed to conceal the humanity of those trapped within it. We see the freedom that performance grants but also the limits of that freedom when everything in your world reminds you that you are chained. It is a textured, lived-in performance, unafraid of darkness but always seeking the light.
1. Mikey Madison in Anora
As I was watching Anora, I knew I was watching the best performance of the year. The further from that initial viewing I get, the greater in stature it grows. It’s a performance that sticks with you, gets under your skin, insists you consider it from every angle, and no matter which way you look at it, it is absolute perfection.
This is not some “sex worker with a heart of gold” story, and Madison never plays it that way. The work is so much more complex than all that. This is not Pretty Woman. If anything, a more apt comparison might be Leaving Las Vegas about the call girl who watches her lover drink himself to death. Except, in Ani’s (Madison) case, the thing slowly dying in front of her is her future, as well as all the hopes and dreams she had tied up in that idea. That’s the level of devastation we’re talking about here.
Madison is great at inhabiting Ani’s bluster, the unchecked confidence that nearly reads as antagonism, as if she is saying, ‘Here I am, world. Take it or leave it.’ But, Madison also finds the vulnerability in the character, and the final 25 minutes are some of the most heartbreaking moments of the year. She is unforgettable, and this performance should open every door in Hollywood for the 25-year-old. Personally, I can’t wait to see which one she walks through next.
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