For Hollywood fans, their holiday of choice and the countdown to the new year mean different seasonal rituals: the accountants tally box office returns and the critics compile their top ten lists. The first has the advantage of mathematical precision, the second the satisfaction of taste-making, and together they well summarize the commerce and art which define the subject at hand. In short, it’s time to pull up a montage of images from the past year and take stock of the bigger picture.

From a commercial perspective, particularly for the struggling trade fair business, the news from 2024 was surprisingly not bad. Total domestic box office revenue appears to be headed toward around $8 billion, compared to the exciting post-COVID swing of $9 billion in 2023, but the National Association of Theater Owners prefers to emphasize the positive and attributes the decline to a product shortage due to the pandemic, labor strikes and encouragement from the renewal of cinema consumption. Whether it’s because of cabin fever, because of Nicole Kidman, or because of the release of movies that people have been dying to see, going to the movies seems to have returned to the entertainment menu as a swipe-right option.

Expectedly, and worryingly since it suggests more of the same, the films that drew the most viewers benefited from the lure of pre-sold films. Every single one of the ten biggest box office hits of 2024 was a sequel, a remake (was Twister a sequel or a remake?) or a prequel. The numerical formula is confirmed by the number after the title without spending additional effort on drawing up a subtitle (Moana 2, Kung Fu Panda 4), not that explanatory subtitles helped Joker: Folie à Deux or Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga. Gladiator II wisely stuck with the brand with the Roman numeral.

Interestingly or fortunately, the cinematic universes of Marvel, DC and star Wars could not be expanded: except Deadpool and WolverineNone of the big hits came from a comic book series or a galaxy far, far away. The good news for the theater chains is tempered by the bad news when you get there – not for the film, but for the audience. The cinematic experience of 2024 cannot be rewound without a sullen rebuke to the transgressions of moviegoers who view the movie screen as a distraction from the screen in their hands. According to anecdotal reports from regular moviegoers, the plague of lit screens, texting and talking has increased alarmingly, and this year a new hell has been added: the brazen recording of film clips.

One wonders whether the interruptions caused by the smaller screens will permanently impact the big screen cinema experience. Of course, obnoxious, inconsiderate and selfish moviegoers have always been a nuisance to movie-watching audiences – hence the slides projected on screens at nickelodeons to remind ladies to take off their hats and gentlemen, Avoid coughing up tobacco juice.

However, throughout the classic Hollywood era, audiences generally adhered to a code of decorum that seems to have been lifted from a Jane Austen novel. While the crowds were louder and louder in their audible expressions of engagement—hissing, cheering, applauding, and the occasional joke being shouted—the reaction was collective and inspired by the story on screen. They enhanced the cinematic experience rather than distracting from it.

The exhibitor-oriented trade press – in particular the monthly “Better Theaters” section in Film Herald – devoted a lot of attention to finding ways to create an atmosphere conducive to a pleasant evening. Back then, even small neighborhood theaters employed uniformed ushers to guide stragglers to their seats with flashlights, patrol the aisles, and deal with pushy customers. Escorts were given strict instructions on how to behave while on duty: “Keep obviously drunk people out,” “Be tactful when it comes to calming unruly guests or children,” and “Watch out for mashers, degenerates, and idiots.” Report it to management immediately.” (Also: “Never flirt with guests.”)

Even in the 1950s, when teenagers became the dominant audience, the good kids worked with local theater managers to monitor their own audiences and discourage rowdy antics. “When we go to the theater, we must remember that we are only buying the right to a seat,” advised a 1952 editorial in a high school newspaper. “An inconsiderate person is one who spoils the image of others by making excessive noise.” Movie manners are for everyone.” In the same year, a young girl wrote to Colbert Culbert Photoplay asking if it was appropriate to whisper to her boyfriend during the show. “It is extremely bad manners for a theatergoer to have a personal or critical conversation during the performance,” Colbert replied.

Against the ubiquity of wearable technology and the collapse of public manners (and don’t get me started on the clueless scrollers plastered on the Nautilus machines at the gym), exhibitors have limited options. Before the feature film opens, most theaters now show a PSA politely reminding moviegoers to turn off their devices, but compliance is not enforceable. The problem is so acute that it inspired one of the best movie tie-ins of the year: Deadpool and Wolverine“Silence your phone” PSA, which delivered the message in commendably blunt terms. If only Wolverine could make good on his threat to deal with the perpetrator in the prescribed manner.

Surely no responsible film critic would ever fire up an iPhone or laptop in the theater to take notes for what has been an annual duty of the profession for over a century: the top ten list. The authorship of the practice is disputed by several plaintiffs. In 1920, the National Board of Review, founded in 1909 and still in operation, established a special committee for criticism “to examine those motion picture productions which appear to have unusual qualifications and to make selections from them for a list of exceptional pictures.” Each month the board drafted a “best bet” in its publication. Extraordinary photo plays. The first prize winner: Reginald Barker’s Godless mena seafaring adventure produced by Sam Goldwyn.

The specialist journal of film dailywhich operated from 1915 to 1970, also claimed to have introduced this practice in 1921. Although the selection was initially made internally, the editors soon widened their net by soliciting submissions from newspapers, trade publications and fan magazines, compiling the results and front-page coverage of the finalists. “The poll has become a national event and is made possible only by the enthusiastic cooperation of some 400 newspapermen throughout the country,” the editors boasted in 1930, when the top of the top ten was easily reached: Lewis Milestone’s epic adaptation of Erich Marie Remarque’s anti-war novel, Things are quiet on the Western Front.

In 1923 New York Times Film critic Mordaunt Hall has selected ten titles from the over 200 films the newspaper reviewed this year. Charles Chaplin’s comedy of manners was also on his list A woman from ParisErnst Lubitsch’s American debut RositaThomas Ince’s production of Eugene O’Neills Anna Christieand, to show he wasn’t overly demanding, crowd-pleasers like James Cruze’s epic western The covered wagon and Wallace Worsley’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

After validation through The New York TimesOnly a few film critics from big cities dared to evade the year-end task. “Around Thanksgiving, cinema students begin selecting the ten best films of the year,” explained George Gerhard of the New York evening world in 1930. The studios’ ad-pub departments, as well as filmmakers, soon began to pay attention to the rankings. In 1935, David confided in O. Selznick The Hollywood Reporter that he hoped to “produce pictures that will rank on the ten best lists, both commercially and artistically.” MGM boasted that its 1938 program “has more winners on the film critics’ nationally published individual lists of the top ten films of the year.” “ than any other company.

Today, the individual critic, the film company, the website and at least one ex-president continue the tradition for the same reasons of mutual benefit. The announcement of the list increases critical attention while the award-winning film gains traction and hopefully increases admissions. Almost always, the critics’ recommendations reveal the gap between the tastes of the trained people who are regularly invited to press screenings and the ticket buyers who have to wait in line at the shopping center. David O. Selznick’s aspiration remains the Platonic ideal: a film that both makes it into the top ten lists and reaps the fruits of commerce and art: The best years of our lives in 1946, Saving Private Ryan is saved in 1998 and Oppenheimer (2023). This year just the blockbuster Evil And A complete unknown seem to have threaded the needle.

The four critics’ favorites of 2024 appear in matching pairs: the transgender issues Emilia Perez And conclave and the flesh-for-fantasy provocations of Anora And The substance. A genre that rarely makes the top ten but had an exceptionally successful year was teen horror, enlivened by dynamic all-in performances from young female leads: Hunter Schafer in cuckooNaomi Scott in Smile 2Maika Monroe in Long legsand of course Mia Goth, who crowned her trilogy of generational terror MaXXXine.

In contrast, documentaries have had almost no theatrical life, with one significant exception: that of Matt Walsh Am I racist?a Michael Moore-esque dismantling of DEI bureaucracy. Ignored or denigrated by critics, it was a prime example of the gap between elite and popular taste. Perhaps it is no coincidence that of all the films released in 2024 Am I racist? proved to be the most reliable indicator of the future – the zeitgeist shift in November, which many in the film industry resisted but were unable to stop. The story of Hollywood’s commerce and art in 2025 will be how well it connects culturally with an audience with which it is often politically out of sync.