The newest and oldest movies I watched in 2024

2024 has been one of the luckiest and most remarkable years of my life so far. As a cinephile and seasoned attendee of film festivals, I’ve been fortunate to have a great job that provides many opportunities to participate in prestigious international film festivals. Over the past year, I watched dozens of new movies, many of which had their public premieres toward the end of the year. Some of these films still don’t even have confirmed release dates.

When the shortlists for the International Feature Film and Documentary Feature categories for the 2025 Oscars were announced on December 17, 2024, I was surprised to realize that I’d already seen more than half of the selected films at various festivals. This was especially true for the feature documentaries, two-thirds of which had their global premieres at the Sundance Film Festival at the beginning of 2024. In a way, I was a year ahead of most audiences in experiencing these incredible works.

When it comes to international premieres and releases, the newest films are often those screened at festivals held toward the end of the year. Independent films, in particular, strive for premiere slots at influential and prestigious festivals. Mar del Plata, an A-category international film festival held between late November and early December, stands out as a premier platform for showcasing the newest films. For Argentine independent cinema, in particular, Mar del Plata serves as their home turf—a fitting stage to shine.

In this context, a satirical comedy titled The House Sitter (El Casero) became the newest film I watched in 2024. It’s a story reminiscent of South Korea’s Parasite (2019) but without the clear-cut delineation of good and evil. The plot follows Marcela and Claudio, siblings who return to their old family home in Villa Carlos Paz only to find themselves locked out and stunned by what has become of the property: inside the spacious living room, influencers pose in vintage clothing for a photoshoot, while outside, a scuba diving class practices in the swimming pool. Overseeing all of this is Ramón, the long-serving caretaker who practically raised the siblings. He’s transformed the villa into a multi-purpose venue, renting it out for various activities and reaping the benefits.

Marcela, the older sister, is a renowned architect, and has a fixed plan to turn the house into a boutique hotel. Meanwhile, Claudio, a bohemian actor, views the visit as an opportunity to find inspiration for a new play. However, tensions rise as the siblings try to convince Ramón to vacate the house. The situation becomes even more complicated when Marcela, who has been sending money back from the United States to support the property, learns that Claudio—who was supposed to manage these funds—never paid Ramón for his years of care and maintenance.

The story is filled with humor and absurdity as events spiral out of control. Ramón pretends not to understand the siblings’ demands, prompting Marcela to seek help from gangsters. She repeatedly stresses that she only wants to scare Ramón, not cause him any physical harm. This leads to a hilarious dilemma for the gangsters, who complain, “Our job is like making a cake, but asking us not to cause harm is like requesting a special customization, like adding flowers to the cake. It’s not easy.” The gangsters try their best to follow her instructions, but Ramón, mistaking them for robbers, fiercely fights back with unexpected bravery to protect the property he’s so loyally cared for. When intimidation fails, Marcela brings in a lawyer and a project team to formally evict Ramón. Yet, this too erupts into chaos, culminating in another wild confrontation. Frustrated, Marcela pleads with him, “They’re investors, not invaders!”

Thanks to its meticulous scene staging and masterful pacing, The House Sitter achieves an impressive level of polish. The film ultimately earned Matías Lucchesi the Best Director Award at this year’s Mar del Plata.

However, as an A-category festival held at the end of November, Mar del Plata faces challenges in competing for global premieres. Most non-Argentine international films screened here have already made their rounds at other major festivals earlier in the year. Yet, as I argued in a previous piece, Old movies are worth going to the cinema for, festivals provide a unique environment that encourages you to slow down and fully appreciate classic cinema.

Many festival attendees might feel that older films are easily accessible via streaming platforms or pirated downloads, and that it’s not worth spending precious time at a festival to watch them. After all, festivals are often seen as opportunities to greedily consume hard-to-find new releases that may never reach mainstream theaters. However, the immersive and disciplined atmosphere of a mature film festival offers something truly special. A single glance at your phone or a whispered comment to a friend is enough to draw shushes or stern looks from fellow cinephiles. This collective respect for cinema allows you to fully immerse yourself in the film, evoking the magic of the medium’s earliest days—like gathering around a bonfire to hear stories in a primordial setting. In an age of constant distractions and fragmented attention spans, this sense of ceremony, built on unspoken rules, is invaluable. Without such an environment, we might repeatedly delay watching these classics and comfort ourselves with the pretext that there’ll always be another time to do so, only to risk leaving behind lasting regrets.

Determined to avoid such regrets, I chose to watch some truly old films at different festivals in 2024. At Mar del Plata, the oldest film I saw was Fritz Lang’s Die Nibelungen, accompanied by live music. This two-part German silent fantasy epic, created by the Austrian director in 1924, comprises Die Nibelungen: Siegfried and Die Nibelungen: Kriemhild’s Revenge. Watching these silent fantasies, along with early masterpieces like Georges Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon (1902)—often regarded as the first sci-fi film in history—left me in awe. More than a century later, it feels as though cinema has made incredible technical advancements, yet still struggles to surpass the narrative brilliance and creativity of these pioneers.

The restored first part of Abel Gance’s Napoléon (1927) served as the opening film of the Cannes Classics selection at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival. With most of the industry audience arriving in Cannes on the first day, and no other screenings scheduled on the afternoon of that day, nearly everyone gathered in the Debussy Theatre to witness this marvel. In some sequences, the original three-screen projection technique—used during the film’s premiere nearly a century ago—was reimagined on one large screen, creating a mesmerizing experience.

But the oldest film I watched in 2024 was Kohlhiesel’s Daughters (Kohlhiesels Töchter) by Ernst Lubitsch, screened at the Hong Kong City Hall Theatre during the Hong Kong International Film Festival in late March. This silent black-and-white comedy transported me back 104 years to the Bavarian mountains of Germany. The story features the two daughters of the Kohlhiesel family—the fierce and rough elder sister and the gentle, demure younger sister—amid beer-drinking, wood-chopping, and playful misadventures. Divided into four chapters, the first three had been recently restored and premiered at the 2024 Berlin Film Festival. In Hong Kong, the live musical accompaniment featured a trio of musicians—a double bassist, flutist, and percussionist—whose performance felt like a fusion of live scoring and foley artistry, capturing the rhythm and emotions of the film with remarkable precision.

From German silent cinema to the early years of Hollywood talkies, Lubitsch was already a recognized master of world cinema. Yet I realized during this screening that I’d never truly watched any of his works. Without the ceremonial atmosphere of film festivals—the kind that forces you to put your phone away and focus entirely—I might have continued to overlook his films, despite owning DVDs of his work and having seen more than 5,000 movies in my life. Once again, I’m deeply grateful to film festivals for providing the environment to rediscover and appreciate the classics.