A Few Things That Brought Us Nerdy Joy in 2024

In the midst of this tumultuous world there is still true joy, Schmendrick. You just have to know where to look. Every year at the Reactor offices, we look back at the pop culture and personal moments—big and small—that warmed our nerdy hearts. This year was particularly kind to the theater kids among us, with a slew of amazing performances on the stage, a catchy musical superhero moment, and a certain box office juggernaut…

Join us for a sequel to a ’90s classic, a reimagining of an ’00s classic, telling gravity to suck it, love notes to love triangles, a mirrorball moon, and multiple instances of love that dare not speak it’s name for one reason or another.

Star Wars Kids Reading Star Wars Stories

If anyone on screen in a Star War has ever been showing reading for pleasure before, I truly cannot think of it. So when, in the first episode of Skeleton Crew, we saw young Wim reading stories about Jedi, I cheered. I really did! The question of how information and stories are shared in the Star Wars universe has long bugged me. There’s the Holonet, and plenty of Empire propaganda, but that’s not enough for the whole galaxy. And in most of the Star Wars tales, we’re with rebels or spies or people who would either not care about the news or have their own sources. They’d also rarely have time to read. So seeing this one kid reading the kinds of stories that inspire a kid to want to go out and have adventures—for better or worse—it spoke to me. It made me remember what it felt like to be a little kid seeing Star Wars, back before it was called A New Hope. It was a genius way to bring adult viewers into the show, to remind us how we got into this galaxy in the first place. And to plant a little clue that this kid’s planet is not like anywhere else we’ve been in said galaxy.

—Molly

“The Ballad of the Witch’s Road”

Agatha All Along brought me much nerdy joy this year, including the SONG. “The Ballad of the Witches’ Road” is catchy, comes in several versions, and is up there with Lady Gaga as music that my four-year-old and I both enjoy listening to in the car. I loved the tune while the series was still releasing episodes, and once it ended and we knew about its origins, my heart hurt, I loved it all the more.

—Vanessa

The first time Agatha’s coven sing the Ballad is a pure comedic joy, from Mrs. Davis merrily bopping along without knowing any of the words to Jennifer sniping that Lilia—the legendary Patti LuPone herself—was “pitchy”. The nerve! It set the tone for the entire series, and became the bop of the summer in the process.

—Sarah

Seeing The Wizard of Oz in a New Way

As a kid (like many kids over the last 85 years), I was obsessed with the movie version of The Wizard of Oz. I named my first pet “Toto” (she was a cat, but she didn’t mind). When we moved to a street called “Dorothy Drive” when I was 7, I thought it must be destiny. And I know it probably sounds like I’m about to start talking (or singing) about Wicked, but instead, one of the things that brought me unmitigated joy in the past year was the chance to see a 35mm screening of the original 1939 movie at a film fest this spring, accompanied by my 4-year-old nephew/fellow Oz obsessive. If you ever have a chance to see a print of the movie on the big screen, do it—it’s amazing (the colors!!! Just one iconic moment after another, but suddenly so much brighter and larger than life than it’s ever been before—it was so familiar and so gorgeous and overwhelming at the same time.). Seeing the movie with an audience of other fans—from small children to much older people (but all clearly Young in Heart)—is such a different experience, after decades of watching the movie on smaller screens, in various living rooms—it was two hours of pure communal adoration, a sense of warmth and connection that’s so special while it lasts. I’m still thinking about it months later, and it still makes me smile, every time.

—Bridget

Wicked Got the Hype Machine That It Deserved

I don’t entirely get TikTok dances and what makes something go viral, but I was fascinated at how the slightly off-kilter dancing in Wicked Part 1 resonated with a corner of the Internet. I saw “What is This Feeling” on YouTube first, but what struck me in the theater was how swiftly the movie’s choreography communicates its core conflicts: the crowds following a leader without much thought (as in the glorious “Dancing Through Life”), only to push back against someone who dances to their own beat (like Elphaba in the Ozdust Ballroom scene) because it shakes them out of their complacency. I can’t wait to see how that translates to the numbers in Part 2.

—Natalie

Whether you like musicals or not, or this one in particular, Wicked was set from the beginning to be major event. And I worried all year about how the media would treat that event, particularly after the Friendship Circus that was Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman tearing up at every interview while trotting out the same little ditty about their deep, abiding bond to power the juggernaut of the third Deadpool film. If the press didn’t go for broke with Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, I was going to spontaneously burst into flame.

It mattered to me more than whether or not the movie was any good at all. (Worry not: I sobbed and fully flashed back to being a starry-eyed musical theater kid for the near-three hour runtime.) Would they get put on the same track? And the answer seemed to be, unequivocally, yes. Did they still have to deal with more bullshit than the two cis white men who costarred in their own movie about difficult friendships months earlier? Absolutely. (The number of videos parodying Cynthia and Ariana’s interviews alone makes that point for me.) But at least they were given the full treatment, lauded and celebrated the way they deserved for such a massive undertaking. Movie promotion circuits are exhausting and I don’t envy what actors have to do when they come around. But at least they didn’t let Wicked fall by the wayside when it deserved to stand out.

—Emmet

Stray Kids Join the MCU 

To be honest with you, I’ve been looking for any and every excuse to talk about Kpop on this here nerd website, but beyond borrowing sci-fi & dystopian aesthetics for music videos, it’s rare that I can make the case for it. But NO MORE, because Stray Kids (my boys, my babies, my loves) have been hanging out with Deadpool and Wolverine, and I am LIVING. It’s long been known that Ryan Reynolds is a fan of the group (made up of Bang Chan, Han, Lee Know, Changbin, Seungmin, Felix, Hyunjn, and I.N.), and this year both Reynolds and Hugh Jackman made a cameo in their music video for CHK CHK BOOM. In the Deadpool and Wolverine suits. Which means it’s canon, baby!! Even if Marvel was potentially unaware (in an interview for Marvel Korea with Bang Chan and Felix, Reynolds says ‘Marvel has no idea I did that’ and it’s really hard to tell if he’s joking or not), it still counts. Stray Kids also had a song on the Deadpool & Wolverine soundtrack (SLASH). Any chance Stray Kids are looking for an older, less agile member? They’re perfect as is, but the collab is definitely iconic. 

—Christina

Speaking With Cats in The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom and Other Gaming Fun

Yes, it’s great that you get to play as Zelda in The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom, and the game mechanic is fun and inventive, and it’s cute but also sometimes stressful in a good way, but let’s be clear: the most important thing about this game is that you can obtain a set of cat clothes, and if you wear them, you can talk to ALL THE CATS. The cats are mostly too busy to say much, but some of them are very sweet and want you to help their people, and one is keeping an eye on Zelda’s stuff while she’s out saving the world. The cats are perfect. Whoever thought this little tweak up is a genius and I love them. I got those cat clothes and I never took them off—except in boss battles, because I didn’t like seeing cat-Zelda get hurt. What can I say? I’m a softie. 

—Molly

As always, I found joy in a few deeply silly video games. Little Kitty, Big City puts you in the paws of a lost cat, trying to return to his cushy high-rise life. While not quite as chaotic as something like Untitled Goose Game, there’s still plenty of cat-related mischief—knocking over cans (which you can also helpfully recycle), tripping unsuspecting humans, and “borrowing” shiny trinkets to bring to your new crow friend. In Crypt Custodian you also play as a cat, or the spirit of one, doomed to spend eternity sweeping up the afterlife. But as you befriend more and more of the “bad” ghosts out in the wastes, it becomes clear that something isn’t quite right with the management around here… And then of course there’s Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom. Molly has already mentioned the cat suit fit for a princess, but I am still tickled by the core mechanic of the game, in which Zelda can summon loyal monster minions to fight her battles. All the classic Zelda baddies are here, from moblins to tekites, but my personal favorite are the giant ghini. Just imagine going about your business when Zelda rolls up with three enormous (and very derpy) ghostly bodyguards, absolute perfection.

—Sarah

Women Crushed the Superhero Genre This Year

One of the most irritating aspects of the superhero genre—it’s true of many genres, of course, but superhero stories are popular and numerous, so the problem becomes far easier to spot—is how infrequently women are in charge of the storytelling. Just, straight up across the board. Which means that often, when women do get the chance to write and/or direct, there is immense pressure on the story to be everything to every woman everywhere, instead of just letting women have the chance to tell stories. Any stories. Good ones, bad ones, silly ones, overwrought ones…

But this year, in a shocking twist of timing, some of the best superhero storytelling came from women. Agatha All Along was here for a good time (and incredibly gay to boot), The Penguin was a truly excellent piece of storytelling that gave Cristin Milioti the opportunity to burn it all down, and Venom took their final bow (maybe) in part three of a film series that has been delighting audiences precisely because it isn’t tied to some sprawling ungainly canon. Jac Schaeffer was showrunner of Agatha after her stunning work developing WandaVision, and the free rein she was given resulted in one of the most flat-out enjoyable pieces of the MCU in years. Lauren LeFranc was responsible for the immaculate construction of The Penguin and made sure to bring (many) women into the writer’s room. And after co-writing the first script and solo writing the second, Kelly Marcel wrote and directed Venom: The Last Dance and it was a blast. A small sampling, if you will, of what’s possible. We could have it all, and this year’s roster proved it.

—Emmet

Marathoning Dimension 20 

You’d be disgusted if you knew how many hours of this show I’ve watched over the past few weeks. Like I haven’t been watching anything else since maybe the week before Thanksgiving, and I’ve gone through several seasons of 2+ hour episodes. I just didn’t think I’d like watching people sit around a table playing DND so much, you know? I’m not really a podcast person, I figured it would be like that. But damnit if I didn’t fall in love with the Dropout cohort and their perfect combination of comedy, action, and drama. As an anthology show, there’s a season of D20 for everyone—the 80’s teen comedy inspired Fantasy High, dark fairy tale horror in Neverafter, a new take on magic schools in Misfits & Magic, space opera adventure A Starstruck Odyssey, and even the regency romantasy-inspired A Court of Fey & Flowers. And I am gobbling that shit up like a demon. Give me all of it—all the in jokes, behind the scenes footage, insane antics, and lovable weirdos. In the words of the iconic K2, ‘Blimey’. 

—Christina

Attending Christina Orlando’s Rad-As-Hell WorldCon Panel

I guess this is a little inside baseball, but 2024 was the first year I ever got to go to WorldCon, which meant that I got to attend  my beloved Orlando’s (standing room only!!!) panel on Sword Lesbians. it was fun and informative and, as usual, Christina was a BOSS.  

—Leah

Star Trek: Lower Decks Made Garashir Canon and Nothing Else Matters

[Actual footage of me watching Lower Decks episode “Fissure Quest” for the first time, where an alt-universe Doctor Garak is married to another alt-universe EMH Bashir, and they’ve been fighting all episode about whose universe they’ll live in when their adventure is over:]

Bashir: Garak, you do know I’ll follow you to any reality.

Garak: I’d do the same for you. I really don’t care where we end up as long as we’re together.

Bashir: What? Then why have we been arguing?

Me and Garak, simultaneously: Because it’s fun.

Bashir: No, it’s not! 

I needed record of my spontaneous channeling, sorry. Julian is married to the man and has still never picked up that Cardassians flirt by arguing. I have never been so happy.

—Emmet

The Challengers OT3

I did not foresee that my nerdiest moviegoing experience this year would be the romantic tennis drama Challengers, but I should have guessed when I was seized with the urge to wear racquet-shaped earrings to the theater. (I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and spent a few summers teaching, albeit without any competitive love triangles/polycules.) To witness the clear attraction between Art and Patrick in addition to their combined desire for Tashi, and then to see screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes and director Luca Guadagnino commit to an ending where all three wind up together, was just as invigorating as the matches themselves. Follow that with Twitter’s subsequent sharing of everyone’s personal favorite OT3s (shout-out to Miguel/Tulio/Chel from The Road to El Dorado), and it was one of the best fannish moments of the year.

—Natalie

Visiting Oscar Wilde’s House

I guess this is how I celebrated Hot Irish Guy Summer. This year, after wanting to go since high school, timing and finances just barely aligned so I could spend a few days in Dublin right after WorldCon. I did lots of amazing stuff there, but best of all was visiting  Wilde’s house. I stood in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, looked out his window, and there was his ridiculous, perfect memorial statue, a big crowd around it gazing up at him and taking pictures. To put this in a slightly more pointed way: He was jailed and tormented and died way too young because he was gay. We lost decades of work from him because being gay was illegal. He lost decades of life to live because being gay was illegal.

Not much nerdy joy there, right? But now I can stand in the bedroom he slept in as a child, and look out his window, and watch as people from all over the world stand at the foot of a memorial that his country built to honor him.

—Leah

Ben Whishaw and Keira Knightley as Murder Besties

I don’t always like spy stories, or thrillers, but when I do, I like them to be like Black Doves. This Netflix series is basically perfect holiday-season viewing (not for nothing, it begins with a bar full of people singing the Pogues). It involves spiy Keira Knightley doing spy stuff while being married to a member of the British government, and throughout all of it, Christmas cheer lurks in the background: lights, trees, present shopping, festive and terrible parties. Knightley’s character is spy besties with Ben Whishaw’s character, and their dynamic is just excellent, and also there are two baby assassins who seem like what would happen if you twisted up two Doctor Who companions and then made them sociopaths. I love them. Add in an excellent supporting cast and an enjoyably twisty plot and it’s no wonder this series got renewed before the first season even aired. Also, it’s very funny. Funny murders with Ben Whishaw! What more could you ask for?

—Molly

The Magic of Live Theater (*Jazz Hands*)

Like a lot of the Reactor crew, I see a fair amount of live theater (see also our entire section raving about Cats: The Jellicle Ball). 2024 has been an amazing year for Broadway and off-Broadway shows, from wild hit comedies like Oh, Mary! (which is somehow as hilarious as everyone claims, even if that seems like it can’t be possible. Cole Escola is just that much of a delight) to the recent revival of Spamalot, which had an amazing cast and featured some fun improvements and updates to the original production, but closed after a limited engagement (though the national tour begins in Fall 2025, so Python fans need not despair). Sondheim fans got to revel in the successful (and truly beautiful) revival of Merrily We Roll Along, starring Daniel Radcliffe, Jonathan Groff, and Lindsay Mendez, who managed to be so lovable as they collectively broke our hearts. Whether you saw the show or not, if you love Sondheim and musical theater, I highly recommend that you check out the documentary Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened, about the original production of Merrily—and then maybe follow it up with the “Co-Op” episode of Documentary Now!—perhaps the greatest fake musical ever? Maybe? Discuss! And let us know what shows and performances brought you joy this year…

—Bridget

I love Sufjan Stevens with all my heart, all my soul, and all my mind, which might be why I saw Illinoise THREE TIMES this year, once at the Park Avenue Armory, and twice on Broadway—once with beloved colleague Sarah! And the reason for this financially dubious decision was simply that, of everything I did this year, sitting in those theaters and watching this show was the most pure shot of joy I experienced in 2024. It’s hard to explain why in words, because the show doesn’t limit itself to words—rather than being a simple jukebox hipster millennial nostalgia rehash, the show reinterprets the songs (performed onstage by a fantastic multifaceted band) as tales told, through dance, around a campfire. Book-writer Jackie Sibblies Drury and choreographer Justin Peck turn the album into a story of queerness, first love, first loss, and, somehow, radical anti-racist compassion. And there’s a cast album! Go listen!

—Leah

My Toddler’s Blorbos

Obviously we as parents can steer our kids toward liking certain things, but it’s been fascinating to witness what my son actually latches onto. We’ve been a Bluey household for over a year (several of the episodes are Pavlovian in how they make me cry on cue), but all of a sudden he’s obsessed with Pixar’s Cars. In just a few weeks, he—and, by extension, we—had become an expert on Cars‘ surprisingly deep lore, obscure side characters, and other minutiae. Watching him cock his head and shout “You know Finn McMissile??!” (the series’ James Bond) at relatives is laugh-out-loud hilarious, even if I have to coach him on having some chill. I thought the intense fandom wasn’t gonna start til he was a tween, but like mother, like son.

—Natalie

The Honda Odyssey Fight

Look, despite my critical qualms with Deadpool and Wolverine (and there were many), my fandom brain loved that thing. Fandom brain is what that film was made for, so that makes sense overall. And while I’ll always be annoyed over the cowardice that makes major studios balk at the concept of queer men as their headliners—Wade Wilson is queer, they can stop caving in over fear of certain fans taking that poorly any time—I did appreciate the desire to get as close to that queerness as they had the guts to with that mano-a-mano in the Honda Odyssey.

It’s a sex scene, fullstop. It contains every cliché of one, inside-out, immaculately choreographed and filmed for maximum impact. And sure, those same fans who would flip out if Deadpool ever kissed a guy can gripe all they want about how that wasn’t the point—it doesn’t make them any more media literate than they were yesterday. Deadpool and Wolverine sliced each other to ugly ribbons in that car… but we all know what they really did. And now Logan lives with Wade and Al and the dog they adopted. It’s not enough, but it’ll do for now.

—Emmet

Levain and Chateau Lafite in Echo

Echo wasn’t perfect, but the scene where Wilson Fisk, Maya’s kinda-sorta adoptive father, comes out to Oklahoma to make amends with Levain cookies and a bottle of Chateau Lafite, only to watch her refuse the cookies and pour the extremely expensive wine down the sink, was hilarious and sad and triumphant and everything the show was at its best. (Also, that ending was GREAT.)

—Leah

Cats: The Jellicle Ball

Three of us loved Cats: The Jellicle Ball so much we decided to give the show its own section. I understand that trying to convince most people that “a radical reimagining of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s iconic musical” is one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen in my life, much less this past year, is going to be a hard sell, but hear me/us out! The Jellicle Ball combines the songs and characters from the 1981 musical with the energy and aesthetic of ballroom culture, with performers from both ballroom and musical theater competing in different categories (Realness, Body, Face) while singing and voguing down the runway and through the aisles, turning the show into a full immersive experience. That’s the premise, but the change in setting and staging echoes through every aspect of the show—the songs take on new meaning, and the creators pay homage to the roots and founders of ballroom culture, the mothers and other legends of the ballroom scene from the early 20^th century through more recent decades. You can read more about how the show came together here. For my part, I’ll just say that every moment of The Jellicle Ball felt exultant, and I was elated and wrung out with joy when it was over.

—Bridget

I need to be clear here that my only previous exposure to Cats was hearing “Memory” because it’s unavoidable, and seeing Tom Hooper’s notorious film version in the theater, (which, with an assist from a cherry slushy and some smuggled vodka, was fun as hell), and, Jesus Christ Superstar aside, I am not an Andrew Lloyd Webber fan. But I kept hearing about this show, so I finally, just barely, snagged a ticket to one of the last performances—and as Bridget says above, it was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen in my life. The crowd was full of people all dressed to kill, trailing clouds of glitter in their wake, screaming and snapping fans in appreciation of the show. It was, in short, deliriously queer. And again, that was just the crowd. The show itself was joyous and sexy, everyone leapt to their feet and stayed there when Andre DeShields swept onto the stage as Old Deuteronomy, everyone went dead silent when Junior LeBeija, of House of LeBeija, came out as Gus, the Jellicle Moon was a fucking giant disco ball, and amidst all that joy was a reckoning with gay history in general and ballroom culture in particular.

—Leah

Honestly, Cats never made sense to me until Jellicle Ball. Sure, some of the songs are bangers, but the show is essentially an endless series of character introductions loosely held together by a bizarre mythology. But reimagined as a Ballroom competition, complete with scene-stealing divas and petty House drama, it suddenly all clicked. The camp factor is naturally dialed up to 11 (Old Deuteronomy’s wig deserves its own Obie award), but the central theme of death and rebirth is made even more poignant when intertwined with queer culture and history.

—Sarah

Anna Sawai In Monarch: Legacy of Monsters

Yes, I know she’s winning all the awards for Shogun (deservedly), but if you are not watching her chase monsters (and her father’s legacy) across the whole world while hanging out with Kurt Russell, what are you waiting for? I have not paid attention to Godzilla movies for a hot minute, but this show doesn’t require you to be up on the films. It’s all the backstory and creepy history of secret organizations; it’s family drama and also “Oops! I fell into the center of the earth!” Dominique Tipper (The Expanse‘s Naomi) shows up in full corporate get-up and is slightly terrifying! There are two generations of family secrets and everybody is excellent! And Anna Sawai holds the whole thing together by sheer force of will, I swear. I can’t wait to see what she does next.

—Molly

The Many Joys of X-Men 97

I dunno, if someone had told me that the most delightful factor of this year would involve not one, but two lithe snarky hairless clowns falling head-over-heeled-boots for the Wolverine… I probably would have believed it, but I wouldn’t have replied “this is for me, absolutely.” Joke’s on me, I guess. This is where I live now.

When X-Men ’97 arrived early in the year and did basically everything right (so right, it was so good, Magneto in opera gloves, my beloved), I was outrageously happy to see the character of Morph returned to the X-team. Then more happy to learn that said character had figured some stuff out, and was now more comfortable being non-binary as a baseline. And then even more happy to note that they seemed to spend all their time attached to Logan’s hip, making very good jokes at his expense and transforming into Sabertooth to tussle when the Wolverine was getting a little too broody. And then they kinda confessed their love for the little hairy fella while he was in a coma (as Jean, you know, for plausible deniability and because it was helping, obviously). 

According to series creator Beau DeMayo, it’s romantically a one-sided relationship. Well, of course it is; the X-Men cartoon has always existed firmly in the realm of our finest soap opera traditions. No one’s allowed to be happy. No one except for me and everyone else in the Morpherine fan club, that is—we’re deliriously happy. We’re here for the drama. For friendships that evolve into other ships. For one non-binary sovereign and their grumpy Canadian otter. The vibes are immaculate on this side of the fence. Everyone should join us.

—Emmet

I loved Nightcrawler’s inclusion in X-Men ’97, I loved how he was actually fun and joyful–at least at first–after the gloominess of his episodes in the classic ’90s X-Men, or, as Kurt calls it “our Gothic adventure among the Alps.” But really the reason I’m contributing to this love note to X-Men ’97 is that, in the end, when they talk about how they have to work together as a team to deal with the Magneto Protocols, I said out loud, in my empty apartment: “Oh, what’s Nightcrawler gonna do, pray about it?” And then that’s LITERALLY WHAT HE DOES. He is literally saying the Our Father (in English instead of auf Deutsch for some reason, and I’m deducting points for that) over Charles’ and Eric’s bodies while they have their, ahem, mind meld, I guess in case they all die in the crash? Anyway I had to pause the show for a second because I was laughing too hard to see.

—Leah

Gambit’s hot pink “rock & roll” crop top is perfect, no notes. Well actually, one note: I worry that Remy’s abs are left vulnerable to oil splatter while he’s cooking beignets, but I guess that’s just the kind of risk the Ragin’ Cajun is willing to make…

—Sarah

The Season Finale of True Detective: Night Country

This show was incredible, full stop, but I’m especially glad to have been introduced to Kali Reis, who more than holds her own up against Jodie Foster. (Finn Bennett, caught between Foster’s and John Hawkes’ characters, also makes a strong showing—and hey, he’s in Black Doves, too!) Night Country is eerie, it’s sad, it’s probably going to make you real mad—and it has possible the singularly most satisfying murder reveal I have ever seen. Everyone I talked to about it had essentially the same response: Like me, they threw their fists in the air and yelled. The finale has catharsis, heartbreak, fury, rage, and calm resolution in a balance that’s unlike anything else. I’m so glad Issa López is coming back for another True Detective season.

—Molly

Manny Jacinto’s Sexy Sith Lord 

We love a sexy, morally gray villain around these parts and no one did that better this year than Manny Jacinto. It’s a damn travesty that The Acolyte, a Disney+ Star Wars show, isn’t going to get another season because like… look at that. Look at him! Jesus Christ. And I mean yeah I’m part of the problem here a little bit, because The Acolyte deserved more recognition—venturing outside of the Skywalker storyline is an exciting turn in the Star Wars cinematic universe, and The Acolyte gave us a coven of powerful witches with an alternative relationship to the Force which is DEFINITELY something I want more of. But loath as I am to be susceptible to a man’s physical attractiveness (in an interview with GQ, Jacinto says “I mean, I think baby oil goes a long way… Baby oil and wet hair.”), I have to admit that when I think about this show, I think about Manny Jacinto’s perfectly framed self rising up out out of the water as he says “you’re wondering… if it’s honorable to kill me like this”. Baby boy that is not what I’m wondering. That’s not what I’m wondering at all. 

—Christina

Thank you, The Acolyte, for showing us how sexy evil is done. Sexy evil is not Kylo Ren (sorry, Adam Driver). It’s Manny Jacinto flirting with Amandla Stenberg and also being terrifyingly good at murder. A huge RIP to a brilliantly cast show that was axed before its time. 

—Molly

Crosshair Learning to Meditate on The Bad Batch

I’ve talked at some length about what makes the finale of Bad Batch a remarkable thing in Star Wars storytelling of late, but the stand-out relationship of the final season was the growing familial bond between Omega and Crosshair. After a not-so-brief and terrible stint with Empire, Crosshair finally comes to terms with what his own stubbornness and hubris have wrought and turns on the regime in a big way, killing a superior officer for his cruelty. He reunites with Omega at the Tantiss research facility—where he’s currently being experimented on—and the two break out together despite Crosshair’s insistence that he doesn’t deserve another chance. Yet while Omega works her usual magic on the people she cares for, Crosshair’s ample PTSD clearly can’t be fixed with love alone.

Omega knows that Crosshair needs more intensive help and offers him an option that might help him regain some of his essential skills. Crosshair is certain he’s not going to like it, but as Omega gamely points out—Crosshair doesn’t like anything. (He pouts, sighs deeply, and replies, “True.”) Which leads to him learning to meditate on a rock looking out over the ocean with the kid and the therapy dog she accidentally rescued for him.

Importantly, the meditation also doesn’t fix Crosshair’s problems. Like so many tools in the recovery kit, cure-alls don’t really exist: you’ve got to keep learning and looking for things that might help and hopefully they’ll all meld together into a routine you can live with. But this is that important first step, one that proves Crosshair is willing to try, if he has support. And another place where The Bad Batch proved that it could tackle deep and complex themes every bit as well as any live-action drama.

—Emmet

Absolutely Everything About I Saw the TV Glow

Just watch it? If it hits, you’ll be elevated by the viewing. If it doesn’t, (I’m so sorry, but) you’ll have the chance to experience something entirely new. Worth it in every direction.

—Emmet

I’m gonna see what Emmet said, and raise you: FRUITOPIA.

—Leah

Art That Makes You Feel Human

I have mentioned my hatred for Red One once already on this site, and I’m sure I’ll talk about it again. I was already pretty sure I wouldn’t like the film, but I was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt until Dwayne Johnson said this:

In the interest of fairness, I went to the IMAX theater where I saw Oppenheimer, and sat in the same seat where I sat for that. I did have popcorn because I hadn’t had breakfast that day—but otherwise, as much as I could, I recreated my Oppenheimer Experience. I can say, honestly, that Red One did not live up.

There were two insurmountable problems for me. First was that Red One never felt Christmas-y (and I know that’s subjective, but there is a certain fizziness, a certain warmth, that the best Christmas movies reach toward) and the other, bigger, problem was that Red One never truly engaged with its ostensible central theme: the idea that everyone, every day, has a choice between Naughty and Nice.

When I left the film, eyes exhausted from blurry CGI, stomach distended with butter and salt, I decided to walk downtown and see Red One’s polar opposite, a small, quiet Irish film called Small Things Like These. Small Things is based on an award-winning novel by Claire Keegan, and stars Oppenheimer himself, Cillian Murphy. The film is about Magdalene laundries, convents where unwed mothers were held and expected to do forced labor for the Church in exchange for housing and food, whose babies were then taken away and placed with families unknown to them—a real practice that really continued until 1996. But so I was already thinking about Oppy because of Red One, but here’s the thing I didn’t know: Small Things Like These is a Christmas movie. Already in a fairly combative, Oppenheimer vs Red One mood, and already thinking about Cillian Murphy’s acting, and already thinking about what makes a Christmas movie a Christmas movie, I suddenly found myself in this heartwrenching drama about an ordinary man, at Christmas, who has to make an impossible moral choice. (And I mean an unwed teen mother, on the run from an uncaring system, who needs shelter from the cold of December? It doesn’t get more Christmas than that!) The film is delicate, quiet, thoughtful, slow. Murphy’s character speaks little, and the film is structured around watching his reactions to the injustices around him, as he thinks really hard about what he can do–if anything–to make the world a better place.

It’s riveting. Maybe my favorite film I’ve seen this year. Quiet where Red One was cacophony, beautiful where Red One was garish, compassion where Red One was bombast. When I walked out under the cold lights of Manhattan I felt connected to the life and humanity around me, full of the nerdiest joy of all: marvel at what art can accomplish.

—Leah

And now we turn it over to you: what sparked your joy in 2024, and what are you looking forward to in the year-to-come?