When can you rightly say

a film has been “overlooked”?

Overlooked films are not merely box office misses but movies that didn’t receive the praise, attention, or audiences they deserved. These films often deliver powerful stories, unforgettable performances, or bold cinematic choices but fail to find their due spotlight. They may have been overshadowed by bigger releases, misinterpreted by critics, or under-marketed despite their merits. Yet, they linger in the minds of those who discover them, promising rich rewards to anyone willing to give them a chance.

In a year dominated by franchise blockbusters and streaming platforms churning out content at breakneck speed, it’s all too easy for smaller, more intricate projects to fall through the cracks. The films on this list represent the full spectrum of cinematic artistry, from deeply personal dramas and groundbreaking animations to socially relevant documentaries and daring genre experiments. They stand as a reminder of cinema’s power to challenge, move, and inspire beyond box office numbers or fleeting viral moments.

These movies didn’t just deserve more attention; they deserved audiences ready to engage with their unique perspectives. Whether offering innovative storytelling, exploring urgent political themes, or presenting unforgettable visual worlds, each film on this list proves that being “overlooked” has no bearing on artistic value. Instead, it highlights the importance of championing films that defy trends and demand thoughtful reflection.

Rediscovering these films isn’t just an act of celebration—it’s a reclaiming of the diversity and richness that define the cinematic landscape. Their stories matter, and their artistry demands recognition. The following 24 titles are 2024’s hidden treasures, films that, though underappreciated, remain essential to understanding this year in cinema.

Bad Faith: Christian Nationalism’s Unholy War on Democracy

Stephen Ujlaki and Chris Jones’ Bad Faith is more than just a documentary; it’s a piercing sociopolitical autopsy of one of the most dangerous ideological forces shaping modern America. By peeling back the layers of Christian nationalism, the filmmakers expose a movement whose roots are deeply entrenched in theocratic ambitions and political manipulations. The film doesn’t settle for surface-level criticism; it delves into the historical alliances and power structures that have allowed this ideology to gain unprecedented traction.

What sets Bad Faith apart is its willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. Through interviews with activists, political leaders, and disillusioned insiders, the documentary reveals how faith is weaponized to justify authoritarian policies and undermine democratic institutions. Its incisive storytelling is matched by chilling visuals, juxtaposing serene images of church gatherings with the chaos wrought by political extremism. Ujlaki and Jones craft a narrative that lingers in the mind, forcing viewers to reckon with the intersections of belief, power, and manipulation.

Chicken for Linda!

Chiara Malta and Sébastien Laudenbach’s Chicken for Linda! is a visual and emotional triumph, delivering a story that feels both intimately personal and universally resonant. The film’s hand-painted animation is breathtaking, with each frame radiating a tactile warmth that underscores the deeply human narrative. At its heart, the story is deceptively simple: a mother, wracked with guilt, embarks on a chaotic quest to make her daughter’s favorite dish. Yet, this premise is merely the foundation for a profound meditation on grief, resilience, and the transformative power of love.

The vibrant world of Chicken for Linda! is brought to life through bold colors and intricate details, creating a sense of magic that elevates the mundane. As the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that the mother’s frantic journey is as much about emotional healing as it is about cooking. The film’s use of real-world soundscapes, combined with a moving score by Clément Ducol, creates an atmosphere that feels both grounded and otherworldly. Malta and Laudenbach have crafted a film that transcends the boundaries of animation, offering a deeply moving experience that stays with the viewer long after the credits roll.

Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point

Tyler Taormina’s Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is a cinematic tapestry that weaves together the joys and sorrows of the holiday season with extraordinary depth. Set against the backdrop of a picturesque Long Island town, the film captures the bittersweet essence of Christmas as a time of reflection, connection, and loss. The story centers on an Italian American family gathering for what may be their final holiday together, but Taormina’s masterful direction ensures that the film transcends its narrative, becoming a profound exploration of human relationships and the passage of time.

The ensemble cast delivers stunning performances, each character imbued with a quiet complexity that makes them feel achingly real. Taormina’s use of light and shadow mirrors the emotional interplay between celebration and melancholy, creating a visual language that feels both intimate and expansive. From the teenagers sneaking out for nocturnal adventures to the elders grappling with memories of Christmases past, every moment in Miller’s Point resonates with authenticity. The film’s ability to balance humor and heartbreak makes it a holiday story unlike any other—a poignant reminder of the fleeting beauty of life and the enduring power of family.

Cuckoo

Tilman Singer’s Cuckoo is a genre-defying masterpiece that blurs the lines between psychological horror and surreal fantasy. The film follows Hunter Schafer’s deeply layered protagonist, a teenager grappling with trauma, as she relocates to an isolated Alpine resort with her estranged father. What begins as a tense family drama quickly descends into a nightmarish odyssey, with reality bending and unraveling in increasingly unsettling ways. Singer’s bold direction and refusal to adhere to conventional storytelling create a cinematic experience that is as disorienting as it is captivating.

Hunter Schafer delivers a tour-de-force performance, capturing her character’s spiraling psyche with vulnerability and intensity. Dan Stevens, in a gloriously unhinged role, brings a darkly comedic edge to the film, amplifying its sense of dread and absurdity. Visually, Cuckoo is a feast for the senses, with its striking cinematography and haunting production design immersing viewers in a world that feels simultaneously beautiful and grotesque. While its narrative may defy logic, Cuckoo thrives as an atmospheric and emotionally charged exploration of fear, identity, and the human mind.

Daddio

Christy Hall’s Daddio transforms a seemingly mundane cab ride into an emotionally charged and intricately layered exploration of human connection. Sean Penn stars as a loquacious taxi driver who takes Dakota Johnson’s guarded passenger on a journey that is as much about vulnerability and trust as it is about navigating New York City. Through their conversation, the film peels back layers of their respective lives, revealing hidden traumas, unspoken desires, and the shared humanity that binds them.

Penn’s performance is magnetic, blending charm and intensity as he probes his passenger’s defenses with a mix of humor and unsettling curiosity. Johnson, in turn, delivers a quietly powerful portrayal of a woman grappling with her own insecurities and past wounds. Hall’s direction is precise and deliberate, ensuring that every word, glance, and pause carries weight. Daddio is a masterclass in tension and intimacy, a film that captures the profound impact of fleeting encounters and the power of genuine understanding.

Didi

Sean Wang’s Didi is a tender and deeply personal coming-of-age story that captures the universal struggles of adolescence through the lens of cultural identity. Set in the Bay Area during the late 2000s, the film follows Chris, a Taiwanese American teenager navigating the complexities of family, friendship, and first love. Wang’s direction is refreshingly honest, blending humor and pathos to create a portrait of adolescence that feels both specific and relatable.

Izaac Wang shines as Chris, delivering a performance that captures the awkwardness, angst, and occasional triumphs of growing up. Joan Chen is equally compelling as Chris’s mother, a former artist whose struggles with unrealized dreams mirror her son’s quest for self-discovery. The film’s rich visual palette, combined with its heartfelt exploration of identity and belonging, makes Didi a standout in the coming-of-age genre. It’s a film that speaks to anyone who has ever felt caught between two worlds, searching for a place to call home.

Drive-Away Dolls

Ethan Coen’s Drive-Away Dolls is a rollicking road movie that blends absurdist humor with razor-sharp social commentary. Set in the Clinton-era South, the film follows two unlikely companions: Jamie (Margaret Qualley), a free-spirited drifter with a penchant for chaos, and Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan), her more reserved but equally witty counterpart. What begins as a simple journey to Florida quickly spirals into a whirlwind of misadventures, political conspiracies, and unexpected revelations.

Coen, co-writing with his wife Tricia Cooke, infuses the film with a playful energy reminiscent of screwball comedies and classic Coen Brothers wit. Qualley’s performance is a marvel of comedic timing, balancing slapstick antics with moments of genuine vulnerability. Viswanathan serves as the perfect foil, grounding the film’s zanier elements with her understated charisma. With its brisk pacing, quirky visual flourishes, and a hilariously out-of-place Matt Damon cameo, Drive-Away Dolls is a delightful romp that captures the spirit of unfiltered fun while slyly critiquing societal norms.

Exhibiting Forgiveness

Titus Kaphar’s Exhibiting Forgiveness is an emotionally raw and visually arresting exploration of familial estrangement and reconciliation. The film centers on Tarrell (André Holland), a celebrated artist whose brightly hued suburban landscapes mask a deeper turmoil rooted in his fractured relationship with his estranged father, La’Ron (John Earl Jelks). When La’Ron unexpectedly reenters his life, now a homeless man battling addiction, the two are forced to confront years of unresolved pain and regret.

Holland delivers a deeply internalized performance, conveying Tarrell’s conflicted emotions through subtle gestures and poignant silences. Jelks, as La’Ron, is equally mesmerizing, capturing the broken dignity of a man seeking redemption. Kaphar’s painterly approach to filmmaking—using color and framing to evoke Tarrell’s artistic perspective—imbues the film with a dreamlike quality that heightens its emotional impact. Exhibiting Forgiveness resists easy resolutions, offering a searing meditation on the complexities of forgiveness and the lingering scars of generational trauma.

Fancy Dance

Erica Tremblay’s Fancy Dance is a deeply resonant and culturally rich road movie that explores the bonds of family and the resilience of Indigenous communities. The film follows Jax (Lily Gladstone), a tough but compassionate woman who takes her niece, Roki (Isabel DeRoy-Olson), on a journey across Oklahoma in search of Roki’s missing mother. Along the way, the pair navigates a series of challenges—from petty thefts to encounters with systemic prejudice—while finding strength in their connection to their Native heritage.

Gladstone’s portrayal of Jax is quietly powerful, capturing the character’s determination and vulnerability with equal finesse. DeRoy-Olson, in a breakout role, brings a vibrant energy to Roki, whose youthful curiosity and courage add levity to the film’s heavier moments. Tremblay’s direction shines in the film’s climactic powwow scene, a stunning celebration of cultural solidarity that serves as both a narrative and emotional centerpiece. Fancy Dance is a poignant reminder of the importance of community, identity, and the enduring power of hope.

Femme

Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping’s Femme is a genre-defying thriller that challenges conventions while delivering a gripping exploration of power, identity, and vulnerability. The story follows Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett), a drag performer seeking revenge on Preston (George MacKay), the perpetrator of a brutal hate crime. What begins as a calculated plan for retribution evolves into a complex, emotionally charged relationship that forces both characters—and the audience—to question preconceived notions of morality and justice.

Stewart-Jarrett delivers a commanding performance, capturing Jules’ journey from anger to introspection with stunning nuance. MacKay is equally compelling, portraying Preston as a man grappling with his own contradictions and inner demons. The film’s visual style, with its stark contrasts and claustrophobic framing, mirrors the tension and intimacy of its central relationship. By blending suspense, romance, and psychological depth, Femme transcends its revenge-thriller roots to become a thought-provoking meditation on the blurred lines between victim and perpetrator.

Los Frikas

Los Frikas is a bold and unflinching tale of rebellion, resilience, and camaraderie set in 1990s Cuba. Directed by Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz, the film tells the true story of a group of punk youths who, desperate to escape the oppressive conditions of their lives, intentionally infect themselves with the AIDS virus to gain access to government-funded sanatoriums. This startling premise serves as the foundation for a deeply human story about survival, creativity, and the lengths people will go to reclaim their freedom.

The ensemble cast, led by Hector Medina and Eros de la Puente, delivers powerful performances that balance the characters’ youthful defiance with their underlying vulnerability. Adria Arjona shines as their caretaker, a figure of compassion and strength in a system designed to suppress individuality. Los Frikas is a visually striking film, with its lush jungle setting juxtaposed against the stark interiors of the sanatoriums. It’s a story of desperation and hope, capturing the indomitable spirit of a generation unwilling to be silenced.

Good One

India Donaldson’s Good One is a quietly devastating coming-of-age story that subverts expectations with a masterful narrative twist. The film follows Sam (Lily Collias), a 17-year-old on a backpacking trip with her father (James Le Gros) and his friend (Danny McCarthy). What begins as a breezy dramedy about familial dynamics takes a darker turn as Sam uncovers a secret that challenges her understanding of trust and boundaries.

Collias delivers a nuanced performance, capturing Sam’s transition from wide-eyed innocence to a more sobering self-awareness. Le Gros and McCarthy bring depth to their roles, portraying their characters’ flaws and vulnerabilities with authenticity. Donaldson’s direction is understated yet precise, allowing the film’s emotional weight to build organically. The climactic campfire scene is a standout moment, a 13-minute tour de force of tension and revelation that leaves an indelible mark. Good One is a film that lingers in the mind, its subtle power revealing itself long after the credits roll.

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Hundreds of Beavers

Mike Cheslik and Ryland Brickson Cole Tews’ Hundreds of Beavers is an absurdist delight that defies cinematic conventions, blending slapstick comedy with an audaciously unique visual style. The film follows a fur trapper (played by Tews) as he embarks on an increasingly ludicrous quest to capture a seemingly endless number of beavers. Shot in black-and-white and crafted with lo-fi effects, the film pays homage to the silent era while embracing a wildly modern sensibility.

The humor is anarchic and relentless, with Tews delivering a physical performance reminiscent of Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin. Cheslik’s direction amplifies the absurdity through clever editing, surreal transitions, and inventive use of greenscreen technology. Despite its playful tone, Hundreds of Beavers carries an undercurrent of sharp satire, poking fun at the idea of human perseverance in the face of insurmountable odds. It’s a film that revels in its own lunacy, offering a chaotic, joyful escape for viewers willing to embrace its eccentricities.

In the Summers

Alessandra Lacorazza’s In the Summers is a tender and meditative exploration of family, memory, and self-discovery. Set against the sun-drenched backdrop of New Mexico, the film follows René (René Pérez), a brusque father who reunites with his two daughters for their summer visit. As the family navigates the complexities of their relationships, Lacorazza crafts a story that feels achingly personal yet universally resonant.

René Pérez delivers a raw and understated performance, portraying a man wrestling with his own shortcomings as a parent. Newcomer Lio Meiel is equally compelling as his youngest daughter, whose journey of self-acceptance forms the emotional core of the film. Lacorazza’s use of natural light and intimate framing creates a visually poetic atmosphere, capturing the quiet beauty of everyday moments. In the Summers is a film that invites viewers to sit with its silences and reflect on their own familial bonds, making it a quietly profound cinematic experience.

Kinds of Kindness

Yorgos Lanthimos’ Kinds of Kindness is a darkly comic triptych that explores the toxic undercurrents of suburban life with biting wit and unrelenting precision. The film weaves together three loosely connected tales of power dynamics, each one a masterclass in tension and absurdity. At its center is Jesse Plemons, whose multi-character performance anchors the film with a droll intensity that captures the contradictions of Lanthimos’ world.

Visually, the film is a feast of sharp contrasts, with meticulously composed frames that mirror the characters’ internal conflicts. Lanthimos uses his signature deadpan humor to dissect themes of manipulation, entitlement, and the fragility of social facades. While its chilly tone and fragmented structure may alienate some viewers, Kinds of Kindness rewards those willing to engage with its moral complexities. It’s a cerebral and unsettling experience, one that reaffirms Lanthimos’ reputation as a provocateur of the highest order.

My Old Ass

Megan Park’s My Old Ass is a poignant and inventive coming-of-age story that uses a sci-fi twist to explore themes of regret, self-discovery, and intergenerational wisdom. Maisy Stella delivers a standout performance as Elliott, a teenager on the cusp of adulthood who, during a psychedelic trip, encounters her older self (played with wry charm by Aubrey Plaza). The film navigates the humor and heartbreak of this surreal encounter, creating a narrative that feels deeply personal yet universally relatable.

Park’s direction balances whimsy and emotional depth, crafting a story that resonates on multiple levels. The film’s Canadian setting, with its idyllic lakes and small-town charm, serves as a nostalgic backdrop for Elliott’s transformative summer. Plaza’s portrayal of the older Elliott adds a layer of complexity, as her sardonic wisdom reveals the compromises and triumphs of a life still unfolding. My Old Ass is a hidden gem that sneaks up on viewers, leaving them with a renewed appreciation for life’s fleeting moments and second chances.

National Anthem

Luke Gilford’s National Anthem is a visually stunning and emotionally resonant exploration of identity and belonging. Set against the rugged backdrop of the American Southwest, the film follows Dylan (Charlie Plummer), a reserved teenager who joins a queer rodeo commune and begins to discover his authentic self. Eve Lindley shines as Sky, the free-spirited object of Dylan’s affection, whose confidence and complexity challenge him to reevaluate his understanding of love and connection.

Gilford’s direction is both tender and evocative, capturing the beauty of the natural landscape while delving into the intimate dynamics of chosen family. The film’s themes of self-discovery and acceptance are handled with sensitivity, avoiding clichés in favor of nuanced storytelling. With its rich visual language and heartfelt performances, National Anthem is a celebration of individuality and community that leaves a lasting impression.

Omni Loop

Bernardo Britto’s Omni Loop is a mind-bending and deeply poignant twist on the time-loop genre. Mary-Louise Parker delivers a tour-de-force performance as Dr. Lena Park, a physicist facing terminal illness who discovers a way to repeatedly relive her final days. While the premise may sound familiar, Britto’s innovative storytelling and Parker’s layered portrayal elevate the film into something profound.

What sets Omni Loop apart is its exploration of time not as a constraint but as a canvas for self-reflection. As Lena revisits pivotal moments in her life, the film becomes a meditation on mortality, memory, and the human desire for closure. Britto’s visual style, blending surreal imagery with grounded realism, mirrors Lena’s internal journey. The result is a film that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant, offering fresh insights into the fragile, fleeting nature of existence.

The Order

Justin Kurzel’s The Order is a chilling and thought-provoking thriller that delves into the rise of white supremacist extremism in 1980s America. Jude Law delivers a career-defining performance as an FBI agent whose investigation into a series of violent crimes leads him to the heart of a dangerous neo-Nazi organization. Nicholas Hoult is equally compelling as the charismatic yet deeply unsettling leader of the group, humanizing his character without excusing his actions.

Kurzel’s direction is unflinching, capturing the tension and terror of the era with stark realism. The film’s script, grounded in meticulous research, explores the psychological and societal factors that fuel radicalization. The Order is more than a thriller—it’s a searing indictment of the ideologies that continue to threaten democratic values. Its urgency and relevance make it one of the most important, albeit overlooked, films of the year.

The Outrun

Nora Fingscheidt’s The Outrun is a deeply evocative exploration of recovery and self-rediscovery, anchored by Saoirse Ronan’s masterful performance. Adapted from Amy Liptrot’s bestselling memoir, the film intricately weaves together three timelines: Rona’s turbulent years in London, her journey back to the windswept Orkney Islands of Scotland, and her reflective inner monologue. This layered structure mirrors the disarray of Rona’s life, creating a tapestry of memory, struggle, and hope.

Ronan’s portrayal of Rona is raw and mesmerizing, capturing the fragile balance between vulnerability and strength. Whether she’s wrestling with alcoholism, learning to lamb on the windswept fields, or connecting with non-professional actors who bring a documentary-like authenticity to the film, Ronan imbues every moment with emotional honesty. Fingscheidt’s direction is both intimate and grand, using the stark beauty of the Orkney Islands to reflect Rona’s inner turmoil. The Outrun is not just a chronicle of healing but a testament to the human spirit’s capacity for transformation, delivered with poetic resonance and unflinching realism.

The People’s Joker

Vera Drew’s The People’s Joker is a bold, anarchic reimagining of one of pop culture’s most iconic villains. This underground guerrilla film transforms the Joker into a deeply personal and subversive exploration of identity, queerness, and rebellion. Drew herself stars as a trans woman who adopts the Joker persona to confront societal expectations and her own insecurities, turning the DC legend into a vessel for radical self-expression.

What makes The People’s Joker truly revolutionary is its ability to mix absurdist humor with biting social commentary. The film’s DIY aesthetic—complete with surreal animation and deliberately rough production design—adds to its punk ethos, creating a visual style as rebellious as its narrative. Drew’s performance is both audacious and vulnerable, inviting viewers to see the Joker not as a villain but as a symbol of defiance and individuality. By challenging the boundaries of fan culture and intellectual property, The People’s Joker becomes a work of art that is as thrilling as it is thought-provoking.

The Promised Land

Nikolaj Arcel’s The Promised Land is a sweeping historical epic that marries grandeur with intimate storytelling. Set in 18th-century Denmark, the film follows Captain Ludvig Kahlen (Mads Mikkelsen), a stoic and determined soldier who takes on the seemingly impossible task of cultivating barren moorland in exchange for a noble title. What unfolds is not just a tale of agricultural ambition but a profound meditation on human perseverance, class conflict, and the transformative power of resilience.

Mikkelsen delivers a commanding performance, embodying Kahlen with a quiet intensity that captures the character’s inner strength and vulnerability. The film’s supporting cast, including Simon Bennebjerg as a ruthless local landowner and Amanda Collin as Kahlen’s unexpected ally, adds layers of complexity to the narrative. Arcel’s direction combines sweeping cinematography with meticulous attention to historical detail, creating a world that feels both vast and deeply personal. The Promised Land is a triumph of storytelling, offering a powerful reminder of the sacrifices and triumphs that define the human spirit.

The films on this list remind us that the true measure of cinema’s greatness lies not in box office receipts or awards tallies but in its ability to connect with audiences on a deeply personal level. Each of these overlooked gems offers a unique perspective on the human experience, challenging us to see the world—and ourselves—in new and profound ways.

In a year when so much of the cultural conversation was dominated by franchise blockbusters and streaming behemoths, these films serve as a vital counterpoint. They are testaments to the enduring power of bold, innovative storytelling, even in the face of an increasingly homogenized industry. Their lack of widespread recognition is not a reflection of their worth but a call to action for audiences to seek out and celebrate the unheralded brilliance that lies at the edges of the cinematic landscape.

As we move into a new year of cinema, let us carry with us the lessons these films impart: to look beyond the obvious, to value the unexpected, and to champion the voices that dare to tell stories that matter. The films on this list are not just overlooked—they are essential, and they deserve their moment in the spotlight.

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The Most Overlooked Movies of 2024

When can you rightly say

a film has been “overlooked”?