Throughout December and January, the CAPC team has compiled a list of our favorite pop culture artifacts from the previous year. Unlike most year-end lists, we don’t claim that these are the “best.” Rather, these are the things that brought us the most joy and satisfaction in the last 12 months.
For 2024, our favorite films included biopics, sci-fi epics, beloved children’s books come to life, indie gems about beavers, and more.
A Complete Unknown by James Mangold
Adding to the expansive catalog of music biopics, James Mangold’s A Complete Unknown follows a young Bob Dylan as he arrives in Greenwich Village in the early ’60s. Although the plot itself isn’t groundbreaking within the genre, Dylan’s compelling nature maintains the intrigue throughout as he journeys through the dawn of his career. Due to this, the script largely falls upon Timothée Chalamet’s performance, as well as Edward Norton’s interpretation of folk musician Pete Seeger.
Chalamet’s five-and-a-half-year-long mission to embody one of the music industry’s most peculiar and complex figures is no easy feat, and he does so with much humanity. Not only was the film itself an honest commentary on fame and celebrity, but its marketing reflected this theme through its fair share of noteworthy moments.
Seeing Dylan’s story recounted to a younger generation by one of its most influential actors is a poignant reflection on how today’s music landscape exists on the shoulders of those rebellious artists who came before. In the same way that Chalamet took the reins in promoting A Complete Unknown through many niche and viral appearances, a young Dylan adopted a quiet tenacity as he fought for his own artistic freedom in the early years, solidifying his status as one of the greats.
—Katie Hagen
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Dallas Jenkins
First published in 1972, Barbara Robinson’s The Best Christmas Pageant Ever has been a holiday favorite for generations, but its retelling as a new movie in 2024 felt especially timely. In a world that often feels divided, this comedic novella has long reminded us that grace isn’t reserved for the well-behaved, that transformation doesn’t come neatly wrapped, and that sometimes, the people we least expect understand Christmas best—while those who think they understand it best often understand it the least.
The 2024 film brings Robinson’s classic to life for a new generation, and it does so magnificently! I wrote about it once already—with a focus on the delightful way it portrays women’s ministry—because I appreciate this adaptation so much. McKenna Grace delivers a standout performance as Imogene Herdman, the scrappy, no-nonsense girl who—along with her equally unruly siblings—crashes the church’s annual Christmas pageant. Known as the town terrors, the Herdmans steal all the major roles, much to the horror of the churchgoers who had envisioned a polished, reverent performance. However, as rehearsals unfold, something unexpected happens: the Herdmans, encountering the Nativity story for the first time, begin to see its meaning in a way no one else does. Their unfiltered, unscripted reactions—asking hard questions, expressing raw emotions—turn what was supposed to be a disaster into the most meaningful pageant the town Emmanuel has ever seen.
What makes this adaptation so powerful is its reminder that the Nativity story itself is about the unexpected. About how love enters the world not in a grand temple, but in a stable, and not to the powerful, but to the overlooked. While many Christmas stories neglect to talk about Christ at all, this one is charming and keeps him at the center—perfect for a recap in Christ and Pop Culture.
At the movie’s end, Imogene—heretofore tough and deeply skeptical—stands at the front of the church, cradling baby Jesus in her arms, tears streaming down her face. In that moment, the weight of the Nativity story settles on her, not as a performance, but as something real, something that reaches her in a way nothing else has. The scene lands just as powerfully in 2024 as it did in 1972, a reminder that the best Christmas pageants—and the best Christmas stories—aren’t about perfection. They’re about wonder and grace breaking through in God’s time, not ours. His time for this movie was 2024. I hope to rewatch in 2025 and many years thereafter.
—LuElla D’Amico
Dune: Part Two by Denis Villeneuve
Denis Villeneuve is a visionary director. When most people call him this, they’re referring to his artistic vision, the beauty of his films, the execution, cohesion, and unity of all aspects of his visual storytelling. All of this is true, but I think there’s more to Villeneuve’s movies that make his work visionary: his ability to translate complex ideas and universal themes into works of entertainment while still elevating them to move us and make us consider these themes and ideas anew. He does this in movies like Dune.
Dune, the massive science fiction work by Frank Herbert, is not an easy novel to adapt. Telling the story of the desert planet of Arrakis and the spice that covers its surface—invaluable for being the only substance in the universe that allows ships to travel faster than light through deep space—it also covers politics, power grabs, and war as royal families, tribes, and empires fight for control of Arrakis. But Dune is mostly about Paul Atreides, the young man at the center of the conflict because he is believed to be the savior of the Fremen (despite not being Fremen himself), the indigenous people of Arrakis.
Or is he a savior at all?
Dune: Part Two came out in early 2024 and continues Paul’s story from the first movie where he was young, a little hapless, and acclimating to life on Arrakis. Throughout the story, Paul insists that he is no savior, but he moves ever closer to accepting the role of both savior and messiah, his self-effacing humility an act that peels away under Arrakis’ hot sun like the shed skin of his old identity. All of this is against a backdrop of war, rebellion, and a gathering (and rabid) following of people not only willing but eager to place Paul atop a throne he claims not to want.
Dune: Part Two and the story of Paul Atreides challenges us to evaluate our belief in humans who would call themselves saviors (or those that allow others to call themselves such), messianic figures, and self-fulfilling prophecies. This is a message that has always been timely, but should give us extra pause as we head into yet another year of truth breakdown. Like all good science fiction stories, it asks us, “What is truth?” as it ponders the possibilities of the far future. But the future, however far flung and radically imagined, is always grounded in the realities of today.
—K. B. Hoyle
Harold and the Purple Crayon by Carlos Saldanha
Harold and the Purple Crayon began as a beloved 1955 children’s book written and illustrated by Crockett Johnson. In it, Harold—a wildly imaginative toddler—creates his own world by drawing it with his magic purple crayon. The book is a joy to read aloud, with simple yet brilliant illustrations that captivate young readers. So, naturally, I was thrilled when I heard a live-action adaptation was coming to theaters!
Now, I’ll admit, I went into the movie with my two kids knowing that a fantasy drama starring Zachary Levi as a grown-up Harold and Zooey Deschanel as the mother of a creative boy named Mel probably wasn’t going to be high art. And it wasn’t. But it was exactly what a kids’ movie should be: funny, a little surprising, and just nostalgic enough for parents and child readers (beyond the toddler set) to appreciate.
The film takes creative liberties, centering on Mel, a young boy who discovers Harold’s magical crayon and realizes its power to bring imagination to life. With Harold as his whimsical guide, Mel embarks on an adventure that blends the ordinary with the fantastical, turning everyday moments into larger-than-life experiences. The story explores creativity, problem-solving, and the joy of seeing the world through a child’s eyes. And as a delightful bonus, the movie wraps up with a tour of Crockett Johnson’s home and museum, a touching tribute to the book’s legacy.
Critics may have panned the film, but I found myself wondering if any of them had kids. The group I saw it with all loved it, and we left the theater excited to imagine what a real-life Harold might draw next. Sometimes, a movie doesn’t need to be groundbreaking, it just needs to spark a little joy, and Harold and the Purple Crayon did exactly that.
—LuElla D’Amico
Hundreds of Beavers by Mike Cheslik
The simplest description for Hundreds of Beavers is that it’s the closest we’ve ever had to an honest-to-goodness live-action Looney Tunes cartoon. But I fear not even that will adequately prepare you for the delightful lunacy of Mike Cheslik’s film, which captures the trials and tribulations of a lowly fur trapper plying his trade in 19th century America.
All Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews) wants to be is an applejack salesman. But when beavers destroy his orchard, he vows revenge. First, however, he must learn to survive in the wild, which means learning the ways of all of the animals that he must hunt and trap. (The beavers, rabbits, skunks, et al., by the way, are all played by humans in animal costumes, complete with furry innards.) Along the way, he falls in love, battles a vicious wolf pack, and accidentally creates the Green Bay, all while trying to stay one step ahead of the beavers and their dastardly master plan.
Combining silent filmmaking, stop-motion animation, slapstick comedy, endless sight gags, the aforementioned animal costumes, and scrappy DIY production values—the film’s budget was just a mere $150,000—Hundreds of Beavers is as endlessly inventive as it is laugh-out-loud funny. (Though technically released in 2022, Hundreds of Beavers didn’t become widely available until 2024 via video-on-demand.)
—Jason Morehead
Inside Out 2 by Kelsey Mann
Grossing over $1 billion in just 19 days, Inside Out 2 became the highest-grossing animated film of all time as well as the highest-grossing film of 2024. This sequel is a continuation of where 2015’s Inside Out left off as Riley begins to navigate all of the new emotions that come with being a young teenager. This all-too-chaotic mental landscape includes new feelings like Anxiety (Maya Hawke), Envy (Ayo Edebiri), Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser), Ennui (Adèle Exarchopoulos), and even a small cameo by Nostalgia (June Squibb).
The script resonates thanks to its immense relatability to the human experience, specifically to young people during this often-turbulent season of growing up. At times when they might feel misunderstood, Inside Out 2 uses its empathetic charm to de-stigmatize the conversation and compel audiences to seek to embrace and understand their own mental headspace. This message is expressed in a lighthearted and comedic way, while also tugging on the audience’s heart strings during the film’s more vulnerable moments.
—Katie Hagen
Moana 2 by David Derrick Jr., Jason Hand, and Dana Ledoux Miller
In Moana 2, Moana is now a Wayfarer who takes her job of exploring the ocean seriously. She’s a hero in her own culture, the daughter of proud parents, and has become a loving older sister. But there’s a new threat: if she does not find other peoples from other islands—and thus unite the ocean—her own people will perish. To find more humans, she needs to locate a sunken island zealously guarded by the god Nalo, who would prefer that everybody perish. In the search for this island, Moana has to assemble a motley crew and then, naturally, team up with Maui the demigod.
Like most Disney animated films, Moana 2 is fun, musical, abundant in charming characters, and full of protagonists with can-do expressions as they face impossible odds. Maui’s character also brings a comical dose of realism to Moana’s idealism: at one point, he calls Moana’s young admirers “Mo-wannabees.” Yet I was dismayed to see a disproportionate amount of grossness: the monsters had horrific mouths that would scare smaller children, several scenes featured slime projecting from disturbingly organic orifices, and at one point, a character gets mooned by another (without showing anything).
Still, it has healthy elements. Moana must govern an unskilled crew, which foreshadows what it would be like to work with the various peoples she’s trying to unite. Maui learns not only humility but a bit of selflessness. And finally, the beauties of Hawaiian culture are once again depicted on the silver screen.
—Lindsey Scholl
Rebel Ridge by Jeremy Saulnier
It’s not uncommon to find an action thriller that weaves social critique into its text, but it’s rare to find a film that does so with such specificity as Jeremy Saulnier’s Rebel Ridge, which places its central character under the maze that is civil asset forfeiture laws. When small town cops take the money he planned to use to bail out his cousin, Terry (Aaron Pierre) does his best to reason with the police chief. Unfortunately, they’ve come to see their power as a cudgel instead of a means for enacting justice.
As tensions escalate and violence looms on the horizon, Terry insists on communicating—on de-escalation. Saulnier (Blue Ruin, Green Room) knows exactly how to raise the stress to a fever pitch, and Rebel Ridge features some thrilling showdowns. But what’s most surprising and fresh is Terry’s—and the film’s—commitment to non-lethal interactions. The desire for peace is lip service in most action movies, a mere gesture of character before the body count rises. In Rebel Ridge, it’s an ethic.
Through it all, Pierre grounds the generosity with a performance that’s both controlled and thrumming with warmth and care. Rebel Ridge is imaginative and sincere in its longing for justice, making it the most engaging action movie I’ve seen in years.
—Micah Rickard
Seven Samurai by Akira Kurosawa (4K Restoration)
Originally released in 1954, Akira Kurosawa’s rousing tale of samurai hired to protect a small village from vicious bandits has thoroughly solidified its position as one of the greatest films of all time. It’s also one of the most influential; not only has Seven Samurai been remade multiple times, but its approach to filmmaking and visual storytelling forever changed cinema, and its influence can be seen in countless films since its original release.
That was impressed upon me when I got the chance to watch this gorgeous 4K restoration created for Seven Samurai‘s 70th anniversary. Even after all this time, its action sequences are as thrilling as anything Hollywood might churn out these days, and there remains few things in cinema as satisfying as watching Toshiro Mifune swagger, strut, and prowl across the screen.
Kurosawa’s fully realized characters and deeply humanistic storyline transcend language and culture. The resulting film captures the entire breadth of the human experience—courage, honor, sacrifice, fear, treachery, desperation—with a power and vitality that has only increased with time.
—Jason Morehead
Wicked by Jon M. Chu
Wicked is a compelling case for the longevity of classic tales and prolonged box office success. Whether it be in print, on stage, or on the big screen, Jon M. Chu’s musical movie adaptation is a proven case that relevant stories never go out of style and thrive no matter the medium.
The film pays homage to a 29-year-old cult classic narrative while providing a fresh dimension to the world of Oz and the beloved characters within it. The breakout performances by Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande both reveal the close-up intricacies of Elphaba and Glinda, as well as a complicated, yet beautiful display of friendship. The ensemble cast paired with the production’s craftsmanship excel in building the world beyond the theater stage, serving as an ode to cinema lovers and theater fans alike.
Wicked was destined to be a cultural blockbuster as it seizes every opportunity to remind us that the beloved cinema experience is alive and well, and that a trip to the movie theater really has the power to take you anywhere—even to the Emerald City.
—Katie Hagen
The Wild Robot by Chris Sanders
In an animated box office year dominated by sequels, this adaptation of an NYT-bestselling children’s book made a surprisingly strong showing. And against the common appeal for young people to follow their heart, The Wild Robot is bold to suggest that meaning may instead be found in the service of others.
As an abandoned robot learns to take care of a baby goose, she’s forced to rewrite her code to provide the emotional care the youngling needs. This also leads her to inspire other critters on the island to value some sort of moral compass over the law of tooth and claw. Such appeals serve as a refreshing alternative to the notion that meaning is found in simply fulfilling our natural desires.
The film also paints the protagonist’s journey into motherhood as being poignantly meaningful and rewarding. Sacrificing her original dreams to raise a child provides the robot with more joy in life, not less. And the film aptly portrays both the joys and challenges of raising a child and releasing them into the world. The film’s celebration of traditional values combines with a beautifully creative and evocative art style to produce a real winner.
—Josiah DeGraaf
