All 2024 Features, Ranked in Ascending Order
60. Moana 2
Anyone wondering what Moana would look like without the hair-raising soundtrack or the enveloping character arcs need look no further. A tired retread of a modern classic, but at least you’ll have a new babysitter when it hits Disney+.
59. Emilia Pérez
Ambition is only good when it aims to do more than satisfy itself, and director Jacques Audiard’s transgender, crime saga musical is a closed-loop system. Marveling at the sheer audacity on display will have to suffice for engagement, because neither the songs or the story ever threaten to draw you in.
58. Sing Sing
Favoring endless shots of men gazing pensively off into the distance in place of anything substantial, Sing Sing is designed to flatter rather than challenge. It’s too convinced of its meaning to actually have one, and while its target audience will likely be moved, there’s something dispiriting about playing so directly into their hand.
57. We Live In Time
A time-hopping tribute to traditional romance and family values that pounds on our presumed love for Andrew Garfield and Florence Pugh until the bottom falls out. Sensitive masculinity is good in all, but watching it curdle into weaponized ineptitude shouldn’t be cause for tear-streaked celebration.
56. Longlegs
A sheep disguised in Silence of the Lambs’ clothing, Osgood Perkins’ latest is too busy aligning itself with procedural horrors of the past to come up with anything on its own. The story of a mysterious cult leader and the FBI agents on his trail is all borrowed parts, and even a good cover band can’t help but wither in the shadow of the real thing.
55. Alien: Romulus
The highest praise and the most severe criticism of Romulus are one in the same; it’s yet another Alien movie. Credit the tactile production design and a stand-out David Jonsson performance all you want, or even lament the overbarance of nostalgia if you see it. Either way, it’s a movie on highly-efficient autopilot, handsome and ho-hum in equal measure.
54. MaXXXine
It’s hard to take a movie seriously when its own creators treat it as a lark, and MaXXXine’s lovingly-crafted recreation of grimy 80’s Los Angeles can’t overcome all the nonchalance. The capper to Ti West and Mia Goth’s exploitation trilogy is pleasing in fits and starts, but pampering the egos of genre diehards isn’t the same as engaging them.
53. Immaculate
Solid enough scares and a surprisingly thorough aesthetic world make this more than the next chapter in the Sydney Sweeney takeover plot, but just barely. It’s certainly not anything going on in the movie’s mind, a collage of buzz topics and gestures toward political commentary strung together by predictable jump scares and an overly familiar setting. That ending rules though.
52. Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World
Circling the drain of cynicism at the end of capitalism’s rainbow comes with its fair share of woebegone pleasures, but director Radu Jude is too impressed with the nihilistic party he’s throwing to send any invites. The devilish delights and political commentary here would have made for a great 90 minute movie; at 2 and a half hours, it’s just exhausting.
51. Nickel Boys
We shouldn’t have to choose between boundary-testing filmmaking and empathetic involvement, but RaMell Ross’ debut feature pushes us into a corner. The first person technique is admirable, but the distance that it creates between us and the characters in this tale of racially-charged tragedy undermines the entire premise.
50. Monkey Man
Wherein Dev Patel arranges an entire film around his own appeal and allure. There are certainly worse forms of self advocacy, and this action thriller has a few moments of nasty kineticism that really sing, but its stabs at political resonance were either mangled in the editing room, or half-hearted to begin with. A solid matinee entry that’s far more enthralled with its star than its story.
49. Strange Darling
For a movie premised on titillation and forward thrust, Strange Darling is awfully hung up on the details. Director JT Mollner’s erotic thriller is too obsessed with its own fussy construction to genuinely invest in the characters it follows, a shame given Ella Fitzgerald’s lurid performance as a woman on either side of the run. But hey, Giovanni Ribisi’s 35 mm cinematography sure looks great!
Easier to revere than enjoy, director Payal Kapadia’s slice-of-life drama certainly has its heart in the right place, but the beats come at an alarmingly slow pace. The hospital setting needn’t be so cleanly, nor the affirmational messaging so drained of forward momentum, but a fly on the wall has no say in what goes on in the room. If there’s a difference between authenticity and autopilot, All We Imagine As Light can’t find it.
47. Conclave
Depending on your vantage point, Conclave could be a pulpy lark masquerading as awards fodder, or a prestige picture intent on tricking its audience into tawdry fun; either way, Edward Berger’s papal thriller is trying to pull one over on the paying customer. It’s deception by way of people pleasing, and the line straddling ensures no one goes home fully satisfied.
46. Challengers
Our collective desire to see Luca Guadagnino get his groove back with this tennis world love triangle has some projecting sauciness that can’t be located in the text. Overlong and overserious, Challengers wastes a tremendous Josh O’Conner performance by keeping things classy. We ordered fast food, and got a gourmet cheeseburger instead. Is it so wrong to want the trashy version?
45. Inside Out 2
We all loved it the first time; what’s the harm in running it back? It’s a compliment by way of insult to describe Inside Out 2 as something closer to a remake than a genuine continuation, as much of the first film’s structural brilliance and emotional prowess is retained in this continuation. It knows you want to hear the hits, and it sings them in a steady voice.
44. Problemista
Julio Torres has all the makings of an emerging filmmaker, but Problemista feels like a rough draft, amiably paying tribute to Michel Gondry without the budget or experience to land the plane. Aesthetically buoyant and ideologically confused, the story of two would-be artists struggling against an oblivious New York is an instance of the whole being less than the sum of its parts.
43. Civil War
The titular melee might remain confrontationally vague, but the real war here is between writer/director Alex Garland and himself. It’s hard to make something harrowing when you’re so compelled by its nefarious splendor, and this tale of America’s self-inflicted ruination is too impressed with its own virtuosity to stand as a denouncement of any kind.
42. La Chimera
It’s good to keep your audience guessing, but you’d be forgiven for wishing Alice Rohrwacher had asked a question or two first. The inscrutability of the director’s tale of grave robbers in the Italian countryside has no problem getting its hooks in, but capturing our attention isn’t the same as holding it, and those unable to get on its unique wavelength will be looking for the exit signs long before the credits roll.
41. The First Omen
Imagine if Sisyphus’ boulder were a cube, and you’ve got the gist of what Arkasha Stevenson and Nell Tiger Free were up against here. The director and star offer revelatory work in a studio product that’s too beholden to its IP undergirding to be worthy of their efforts, the indelible, frightening imagery and performances ever at the service of too many masters.
40. The Wild Robot
An animated tale of interspecies comradery that plays it safe at every turn, The Wild Robot might not be particularly memorable, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be moved. The visuals are gorgeous, the music is enthralling, and the paternal pathos cause tear ducts to stir. It may be factory made, but it works like a charm.
39. Wicked
A dimly-lit, unimaginatively staged, thematically hairbrained musical that still mostly works? Wicked’s success hardly makes sense, using Ariana Grande’s supercharged charm and an all-time songbook to power wash away innumerable failings while we all hold hands and sing along. The flight lands safely, but that turbulence will give you a crick in the neck.
38. I’m Still Here
The traditional Oscar movie is still out there, we just don’t make it stateside anymore. The surprise Brazilian entrant into the Best Picture race isn’t anything you haven’t seen before, observing a historical tragedy in stately fashion, witnessed from behind the eyes of a steely, winsome protagonist. There’s a reason the formula exists; the same notes still play.
No one should be chided for returning to their roots, but Yorgos Lanthimos’ follow-up to Poor Things seems more interested in proving its creator’s dastardly bonafides than standing on its own two feet. This trio of short films, stitched together by thematic kinship and a returning cast of actors, proves the director incapable of making anything boring, but angling to show your doubters the receipts is a regrettable form of inspiration.
36. Didi
Writer/director Sean Wang’s semi-autobiographical feature debut is precisely what it sounds like, and those looking for yet another thoughtfully-mounted coming-of-age movie will have their requirements met at every turn. Didi goes through the motions with patience and passion, but the standing ban on all things surprising lowers the ceiling.
35. A Real Pain
The best made-of-tv movie in recent memory, Jesse Eisenberg’s second turn in the director’s chair is defined by small stakes and a smaller scale, for both better and worse. Loath to interrupt the proceedings with anything resembling stylistic flourish, A Real Pain’s tale of two cousins on a trip to Poland offers an ample showcase for Kieren Culkin’s enlivening brand of unscrupulous, twitchy charm. It’s over before you know it, but maybe that’s the point; ventures of this inherent modesty needn’t overstay their welcome.
34. Here
A spiritual sequel to Forrest Gump that somehow outdoes its predecessor in both historical expanse and saccharine melodrama, Here is the kind of movie that could only be made by someone in their 70’s. Robert Zemeckis fits the bill, with his continued quest toward cinematic innovation face-planting in fits and soaring in starts. The sheer gall of the thing makes it worth a watch.
It’s too bad that so many recent films beat It’s What’s Inside to the party-game-gone-wrong punch, because writer/director Greg Jardin’s debut feature could have been revelatory. As is, this story of a friend group breaking bad against a Freaky Friday backdrop is still quite the romp, and its seedier ideas will make you want to wash off the moment the credits roll.
What could have been an instant cult classic is undermined by directors Cameron and Colin Cairnes’ lack of formal discipline. Using the found footage format to make a late night talk show-set chiller is a brilliant idea, one that provides actors David Dastmalchian and Ingrid Torelli ample room to shine, but the constant violations of the premise chafe against the many admirable qualities.
Wisely sensing that Bob Dylan’s mythical ascent in the 1960’s would be tricky to psychoanalyze, director James Mangold doesn’t even try. By refusing to go even skin deep on a legendary figure, A Complete Unknown fully severs the art from the artist, and asks the audience to put the two back together. It’s quite the intellectual exercise, but you’ll hardly be thinking about it when yet another all-time classic comes barreling out of theater speakers.
30. The Apprentice
Is being entertaining enough when your aim is to skewer one of the most powerful people in the world? While director Ali Abbasi’s biopic of a young Donald Trump won’t be changing minds on either side of the aisle, there’s an irrefutable thrill in watching a movie take such brazen pot shots at the sitting US president, all dolled out with Scorsese-indebted sizzle.
29. The Fall Guy
The nonfunctional aspects of The Fall Guy greatly outnumber the ones that actually work, but that’s why movie stars exist. Matinee Idol Ryan Gosling is one of our most precious and rarified cinematic qualities, and when he gets the charisma going, all the faults within this meta-skewing action comedy become afterthoughts.
28. Oddity
It’s strange to champion a movie with this much shoddy construction, but the finer details are less important when you’ve got the spine-tingling goods. This story of a psychic medium on a quest to avenge her sister’s murder features clumsy framing, flat performances, and innumerable thematic and logistical loose ends. It’s also scary as hell, so why sweat the small stuff?
27. Megalopolis
Spectacular in both its failures and achievements, Francis Ford Coppola’s long gestating passion project certainly isn’t good, but it might be great. Adam Driver stars as Cesar Catilina, the only man capable of guiding the imagined metropolis of New Rome into the future, and if that description already had you giggling, just wait until you see where The Godfather director takes it from there. Ugly and beautiful, slovenly and supreme, Megalopolis’ detractors are all correct. So are its champions.
26. Nosferatu
Yesteryear horror maestro Robert Eggers is better off following his own freak show bliss than shepherding century-old studio IP, but his lesser efforts still tower above most contemporaries. His update of the classic vampire film treats immaculate period detail and sterling production design as non-negotiables, and the set pieces that work hit like wrecking balls. You cherish the craft almost as much as you miss the idiosyncrasies.
25. Babygirl
Nicole Kidman just can’t help herself, and while it’s less than novel to see the actress in yet another taboo sex romp, writer/director Halina Reijn’s style and humor justify the journey. The Australian luminary isn’t even the movie’s standout, with Harris Dickinson’s confounding, alluring turn stealing the movie right out from underneath his more celebrated co-star. It’s only been a few decades since erotic thrillers ruled the multiplex, and Babygirl illuminates just how badly they’ve been missed.
24. Blink Twice
If a filmic rendering of Epstein Island atrocities that prioritizes style over weighty import sounds morally dubious, you must be paying attention. Naomi Ackie stars as a cocktail waitress who’s whisked away to an idyllic estate by embattled tech mogul (Channing Tatum), her would-be trepidations vanishing in the inviting light of debaucherous excess. It’s a trap, one Zoë Kravitz deftly lays while lamenting our reflexive push back against female solidarity just beneath the surface.
Evil Does Not Exist’s patience-testing attunement to the natural world will prove as enticing to some as it is repellant to others, but writer/director Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s ruminative headspace is truly singular. Set in a snowy Japanese mountain village whose stillness and beauty are at risk of corporate infringement, the movie slowly unfurls with the mystery and magisterial allure of centuries-old allegory. If the ravishing score and luminous cinematography aren’t enough to keep you enthralled, just wait for the ending, a bedazzling and befuddling conclusion to a film that’s loath to pander to its audience.
22. Drive-Away Dolls
Drive-Away Dolls won’t satiate your hunger for a new Coen brothers movie, but thankfully it doesn’t even try. The 1999-set caper comedy is too busy having a laugh, refusing to contort to our stuffy understanding of meaningful cinema as it charts a pair of queer women on the run from a band of muscle men. Margaret Qualley is almost too much to handle in the lead role, but her headless bombast is the point; goofiness rules the day, all pitched to eleven.
21. Cuckoo
Experiencing Cuckoo is sort of like watching an 8-year-old play with their toys, for better and worse. The logic hardly ever adds up in Tillman Singer’s Alps-set horror comedy, and the plot is scatterbrained at best. It’s also intoxicatingly creative, almost always unpredictable, and good for a guffaw or two. We don’t need to tidy the room; this is playtime.
20. Smile 2
Two movies for the price of one, Smile 2 is just as interested in haunting its protagonist as charting her popstar career, and with Parker Finn at the wheel, so are we. The writer/director is just a massive talent, too skilled to be hemmed into one single genre, resulting in a frightener that quadruples as an action flick, a black comedy, and a rollicking concert faux-documentary. It’s probably too much, but would you rather he coast?
19. Anora
Pretty Woman by way of Uncut Gems is a hell of a logline, but writer/director Sean Baker is too idiosyncratic a filmmaker to be subsumed by his reference points. The story of windswept quasi-romance between a nightclub dancer and the son of a Russian oligarch is all frenzied ascent and blistering downfall, a rollercoaster of a movie that owes its enveloping qualities to Mikey Madison’s rapturous performance in the titular role. Explorations of the faulty American Dream are certainly nothing new, but Baker’s hairbrained worldview, when paired with the driving interest and empathy he harbors toward his characters, makes Anora stand out in a crowded field.
18. Queer
Playing out like an extended What I Did on My Summer Vacation presentation, Queer is director Luca Guadagnino at his most extracurricular, content to let its freak flag fly without any sense of ulterior motive. Daniel Craig is right on his weirdo wavelength, sweating and fidgeting along through his turn as an inebriated expat in 1950’s Mexico City. The slow bore bacchanalia of it all will prove off-putting to some demographics, but Queer happily leaves them at the terminal while rushing to catch its flights of immoral, psychedelic fancy.
17. The Beast
A tone poem with an essayistic bent, The Beast’s murky, ruminative waters won’t be for everyone, but those willing to do the leg work will find something tantalizing in writer/director Bertrand Bonello’s latest. Following a pair of star-crossed romantic antagonists whose reincarnated forms can’t help bumping into each other across the centuries, the Henry James adaptation offers further proof of star Léa Seydoux’s mysterious allure. A doom-laden exploration of free will, emotional artifice, and incel culture that manages to corral its divergent motifs into a thematically congruent whole, the movie has a bewildering way of sucking the viewer into its mystifying undertow.
16. Trap
Caught in a parallel dimension between amazing and embarrassing, we might have finally arrived at the perfect distillation of the M. Night Shyamalan experience. The director’s serial killer thriller is somehow a movie about the pains and joys of fatherhood, chalk-full of dialogue from the corniest dad you know. Josh Hartnett navigates a true hornet’s nest of a screenplay to land at something gaudy and delicious, a symbol of the film writ large. Trap is both terrible and great, and always at the same time
15. Heretic
A true tale of two movies, and while Heretic’s frenetic closing act might miss the mark wide right, the opening and middle chapters are on the level of 2024’s absolute best. Pitting religious belief and atheistic doubt against each other in a literal fight to the death, Scott Beck and Brian Woods’ debut feature is more character study think piece than straightforward thriller, powered by verbal and ideological sparring between a pair of Mormon missionaries and a devious non-believer. Hugh Grant makes for a hell of an antagonist, threatening and bloviating with equal aplomb, but it’s the crackling dialogue and myriad ideas that truly make a mark.
14. Juror #2
Less a return to form than a return of form, Clint Eastwood’s slept-on gem revels in the dormant delights of yesteryear’s courtroom dramas. Turns out Nicolas Hoult doesn’t have to play broad to be compelling, his titular performance as a recovering alcoholic stuck at an moral impasse locating the sublime in the stillness. Powered by a rock solid script from Jonathan A. Abrams, Juror #2 is captivating entertainment that transforms blemishes into beauty marks by virtue of downhill momentum and ethical intrigue. The cowboy’s still got it.
13. Hard Truths
Mike Leigh cherishes his characters and actors above all else, which can get tricky when he trains his eye on someone as off-putting as Pansy (Marianne Jean-Baptiste). Chiding and bickering her way through modern day London, the matriarch of the Deacon clan leaves everyone she meets cowering in her combative wake, but Hard Truths knows that winning an argument isn’t enough to stave off loneliness. Jean-Baptiste is a wrecking ball, her performance leaving you exhausted despite the movie’s tidy runtime, but the way she and Leigh portray Pansy as a victim of her own vindictiveness is incisive and haunting.
A throwback to a seedier, steamier time at the flicks, Love Lies Bleeding leads with the pulp and lets the rest take care of itself. Unfurling in a sweaty 1980’s New Mexico, director Rose Glass’ latest is a romance-tinged crime saga that sees a local gym manager and a female bodybuilder fall headlong into a thick vat of lust as nefarious forces encroach on their reverie. Kristen Stewart is ready for her B-movie close-up, wielding her well-known tics and affectations like a feminine Nicolas Cage to stir up a delicious, amoral froth that will have you foaming at the mouth. It may be fast food, but 2024 hardly served up a more delicious dish.
11. Rebel Ridge
As exciting as it is elemental, writer/director Jeremy Saulnier’s boots-on-the-ground action flick doesn’t need to change the recipe to get your blood rushing. Injustice has a way of making the heart pump faster, and this story of a former marine hellbent on posting bail for his wrongfully incarcerated cousin has no shortage of moral affronts. It’s just as stocked with star power, and while Aaron Pierre might not yet be a household name, his turn here has the gravitas and charisma to make him one. Saulnier could have just gotten out of his way and ended up with a keeper, but that doesn’t stop the helmer from concocting one hair-raising sequence after another, all charged with dense tension and involving forward thrust.
10. Hit Man
Even a true southern gentleman gets a little randy every now and then, and Richard Linklater is no exception. Glen Powell and Adria Arjona have no trouble locating the steam in the director’s adaptation of a 2001 Texas Monthly article, which charts the episodic exploits of a college professor moonlighting as an undercover sting operator. The architectural bloat and logistical hand waving on display harken back to the fun, freewheeling 90’s, while themes of transformation and choice enliven the proceedings without calling momentum-stalling attention to themselves. That’s all well and good, but the true allure here is the two-headed charm machine of Arjona and Powell, whose electric chemistry will have you looking for a towel to dry off all the perspiration.
An eager ouroboros intent on consuming itself from the inside, writer/director Jeff Nichols’ long-awaited return to the big screen aligns its themes and aesthetic to the point where they’re indistinguishable. The 1960’s-set drama, concerning the rise and fall of a Chicago motorcycle gang, is stuffed to the gills with metatextual performances and Goodfellas architectural rhetoric that would read as regrettable repurposing if reference wasn’t the film’s primary source of interest. Just like the characters we see on screen, Nichols is a prisoner to what’s come before, and The Bikeriders makes a compelling case that we’re all just pawns in the inescapable feedback loop of popular culture’s history.
8. Flow
Don’t let the cuddly animals and ravishing environment fool you; Flow’s treatise on community building in the face of societal collapse isn’t interested in singing Kumbaya and calling it a day. Set in an unspecified time and place after a similarly nebulous apocalyptic event, Gints Zilbalodis’ animated feature follows a cat, a dog, a capybara, a ring-tailed lemur, and a secretary bird on their search for drier shores amidst an ever-rising tide, but any sense of comradery is hard won. Rather than extolling the virtues of togetherness wholeheartedly, Flow observes both the benefits and detriments of assembling divergent microcosmic attitudes and goals underneath one nebulous tent.
For director George Miller, and the Mad Max series writ large, the action is the juice. Filling in the backstory of Fury Road’s standout character is a largely pointless endeavor, but the wasteland saga has always been at its best while simply letting it rip, and Furiosa’s spine tingling set pieces make all other action blockbusters look foolish for even trying. It helps that the worldbuilding is so tactile, filled with ghastly grace notes and post apocalyptic intrigue, but the sequences of scorching tumult would still be searing if they took place in a parking lot. Their creator is that masterful, and while there’s little more here than rapturous carnage, it’s a wildfire you won’t want to miss.
Ageism and patriarchy aren’t exactly new affronts in the world of cinema, but director Coralie Fargeat’s imposing, abrasive style makes them feel fresh and dangerous. Her much-ballyhooed sophomore feature is defined by snarling rage and howling black comedy, all trained on a story of an ageing starlet (Demi Moore) who injects a mysterious drug to unwind the clock. The beauty standards and female subjugation it laments aren’t of the nuanced variety, but neither is The Substance, a blistering nightmare with no use for subtext or subtlety. It’s a face-melter, and with Fargeat wielding the sex string, no one is safe.
5. Red Rooms
Movies that claim danger as their guiding principle rarely make good on their threat, but Red Rooms plunges straight into an overwhelming darkness that’s guaranteed to scandalize even the most jaded viewer. The French-Canadian import stars an inscrutable Juliette Gariépy as the world’s most toxic true crime fan, obsessed with a particularly grisly local murder trial to the point where her life starts unraveling. Writer/director Pascal Plante’s perilous exploration of our diabolical cultural subconscious is almost too much to take, but those brave enough to take the journey will be stimulated and shocked to their very core.
The omnipresent neon glimmer of I Saw the TV Glow works both as beguiling entreaty and a symbol of the movie’s overarching thesis; after all, being drawn into a netherworld is only good when you still know the exit points. Jane Schoenbrun’s fable about the perils of media obsession doubles as a trans coming-of-age story, warning against the dangers of sublimation in both cases. This is as modern as movies get, precisely because it’s so backward looking. Nostalgia has a way of clarifying the human experience, but it might also calcify it in the process.
Identity politics isn’t really a subject you enter through the front; good thing writer/director Aaron Schimberg knows his way around a side door. Treating neurofibromatosis as more of a rabbit hole than an affliction, A Different Man stars Sebastian Stan as a loner who undergoes a magical realist procedure to amend his appearance, but any form of skin is just another mask. Darkly hilarious, tantalizingly thought provoking, and deeply labyrinthine, it’s a movie that’s stirring in the moment and sticky in the aftermath. If After Hours-era Martin Scoreses directed a Charlie Kaufman script, it would look a lot like this. For those wondering at home, that’s about as big as compliments get.
If it’s possible for a movie to design its way out of earnest criticism, it makes sense that architecture would be its subject. Brady Corbet’s three-and-a-half hour epic follows its titular edict of form following function, its Vistavison visuals and chest-pounding score leveling you with grandiosity before the story’s even begun to unfold. It follows a Hungarian holocaust survivor (Adrian Brody) whose aptitude for construction finds him in the crosshairs of the American dream, with all its attendant sterling highs and deplorable lows. Where most movies find their formal rhetoric by capitulating to their plot, Corbet works in reverse, locating a narrative thrust that will serve the gobsmacking edifice he’s erected. It would read as disingenuous if the apparatus weren’t so ravishing and imposing, The Brutalist’s awe-inspiring accomplishments and largess justifying its wayward manufacturing.
Stirring dramas are uncommon, and genuinely funny comedies are even harder to come by, but Dune-Part 2 is that rarest of things: an instant classic that doubles as a deeply satisfying piece of monocultural blockbuster filmmaking. That’s not to say that the Frank Herbert adaptation doesn’t get weird, and one of Part 2’s singular accomplishments is diving headlong into mythos and minutiae without ever losing its audience. Director Denis Villeneuve’s straight-faced commitment to the lore of it all prompts acquiescence as opposed to aversion, stirring grandiosity and earnestness into a dizzying froth that might cause a less emboldened filmmaker to blush. He doesn’t even blink, mirroring the irrepressible, wide-eyed awe that’s conjured during the movie’s elongated runtime, a production inspired and imposing enough to steamroll the occasional flaw. Dune: Part 2’s magic isn’t in its perfection, but its ability to render any possible misgiving superfluous.
Sherwood Likes to Watch 