When you see a movie or read a book that you can’t get out of your head, there’s nothing better than sharing that experience with other people. But in a fractured media landscape — with countless new releases a year and a significant portion of the entire history of human culture at our fingertips — it can be hard to find someone else obsessed with the same thing you are.
We asked our newsroom: What captured your attention this year? We’ve pulled together our colleagues’ obsessions, from buzzy new movies and music, to older TV shows and books that feel as relevant as ever. We’ve rounded up the best stuff on our radars during a long, jam-packed year. Here’s everything we couldn’t stop thinking about.
Lost
Lost, the 2000s mystery drama serial, always seemed like a fool’s errand to me. I knew it was long-winded, sometimes unsettling, and would probably exhaust me with its circularity. When I saw it was on streaming, I tuned in out of curiosity, thinking an episode or two would be an amusing way to spend a weeknight. But I haven’t grown tired of it yet. In fact, I haven’t been so gripped by a television show in a while; one evening has turned into months of obsessive viewing.
Watching the castaway characters navigate the unknown, despite its violence and ridiculousness, has been a soothing reprieve from the casual chaos of my own everyday life. On Lost, nothing makes sense, but everything kind of turns out okay even when it doesn’t (unless it really doesn’t? I’m just starting season five, don’t tell me!). (Streaming on Netflix.) —Melinda Fakuade, culture editor
The Double
Netflix promptly snapped up the hit Chinese drama The Double for a week-by-week release before it was even done with its original run this spring. I know because I was glued to every episode as they released on Chinese streaming platform IQIYI, which I woke up early to stream before work. This fun, fierce palace revenge drama stars the fabulous Wu Jinyan, who broke through in 2018 with the wildly popular, Vox-approved Story of Yanxi Palace.
After a murder attempt at the hands of her husband, Wu Jinyan’s character adopts the identity of a friend who suffered a similarly tragic betrayal. The mysterious “Jiang Li” returns to court to enact revenge not just for herself but for her friend, piquing the interest of the incredibly suave Duke Su (newcomer Wang Xingyue in a charming, star-making turn).
The Double is pulpy, addictive binge material, with a delightful slow-burn romance between the two leads. It’s also firmly feminist, forever dangling the possibility of sympathy toward its nice-guy husband turned villain, then yanking it back and redoubling its critique of toxic masculinity. (Streaming on Netflix.) —Aja Romano, senior culture writer
All things Top Dawg Entertainment
If VH1 still did its Best Year Ever television specials, my vote would be for Top Dawg Entertainment. The rap label has been absolutely dominating the music conversation and the charts this year. From ScHoolboy Q’s Blue Lips to Doechii’s Alligator Bites Never Heal, the label’s signees have garnered plenty of critical acclaim.
And no one can deny their marquee artist Kendrick Lamar’s influence and commercial success this year. He arguably took down hip-hop’s golden boy with diss track after diss track, topped it all off with a surprise album, and announced a stadium tour for this coming summer with his label-mate SZA. They’ll even be playing next year’s Super Bowl halftime show. Top Dawg, indeed. (Kendrick Lamar, ScHoolboy Q, Doechii, and SZA are all streaming on Spotify and Apple Music.) —Jonquilyn Hill, host of Explain It To Me
Castaway Diva
A teenager runs away from an abusive home to pursue her dream of becoming a pop star in Seoul but ends up stranded on an island for over a decade before being found — and then fights ageism in the music industry to become a star anyway. Castaway Diva provides lots of glorious musical numbers and soap opera-esque side plots. The premise is totally wild, but lead actor Park Eun-bin (of Extraordinary Attorney Woo) is a joy to watch, making it easy for viewers to suspend their disbelief while rooting for her character, Mok-ha.
As K-dramas do, it smacks you with some serious childhood trauma up front, and it doesn’t shy away from gut-wrenching moments; at one point I realized I was crying at every episode! But amid all the pain, the show tilts toward optimism and hope, which is something I needed in 2024, and maybe you do, too. (Streaming on Netflix.)—Kim Eggleston, copy editor
Everything Laurie Colwin wrote
This year, I wanted an escape from the now, which manifested as reading many books — fiction and nonfiction alike — about an older, though not terribly distant, New York City. A big part of this was making my way through Laurie Colwin’s bibliography. Colwin’s career spanned from the mid-70s to the early ’90s; she experienced a mini-revival a few years ago when her novels and collections of short stories and essays were reissued. I got lost in what’s been referred to as her sneakily deep “romcomedies of manners” and her utterly delightful version of the city I’ve lived in and loved for so long. Start with Family Happiness, and go from there. (Available on Bookshop.org.) —Julia Rubin, senior editorial director, culture and features
Hard Truths
Mike Leigh’s film Hard Truths is maybe the most radical (and funniest) depiction of female and working-class rage I’ve seen in a long time. It’s like if Nightbitch didn’t try to convince you that motherhood is an innately satisfying experience at the end. Leigh boldly commits to the grouchiness of its lead, played by an excellent Marianne Jean-Baptiste, granting her enough dimension that she never feels like a cartoon. He doesn’t offer an easy answer as to why she can’t enjoy life, or at least pretend to, like her even-keeled relatives. While we’re often fed stories of women overcoming things and finding themselves, it’s surprisingly moving to watch a woman live in her miserable truth. (Now playing in select theaters.) —Kyndall Cunningham, culture writer
The God of the Woods by Liz Moore
Approximately 300 pages into The God of the Woods, a propulsive literary mystery centered on a teenager who goes missing from her summer camp, I texted the friend who had recommended it in all-caps: “NOVELS ARE SO GOOD, MAN.”
Liz Moore’s latest had successfully reminded me that one of the greatest pleasures of a truly well-done piece of long-form textual fiction is that it can feel like magic, in the literal, I-have-had-a-spell-cast-upon-me type of way. Moore demonstrates a mastery of conjuring whole worlds and lives inside your head, and then shifting the perspective just slightly to let you see what was always there but hidden from view.
The power and misery of wealth, the awe and darkness of the forest, the strictures and potential of being a woman, the anxiety and thrill of growing up and coming into your own; I don’t want to give anything away, I just want you to read it, and text your friends. (Available on Bookshop.org.) —Meredith Haggerty, senior culture editor
Only Connect
As Connections became the hottest new puzzle on the New York Times game app, I soaked myself in luxurious superiority, for I knew a secret. Connections is nothing but a flimsy simulacrum of the cult British quiz show Only Connect, a game so fiendishly complicated that it makes New York Times’s Connections look as easy as Strands (iykyk).
To work out the average Only Connect category, you have to possess an esoteric combination of knowledge of advanced high mathematics, the topography of South American mountain ranges, and snooker balls, not to mention a high tolerance for truly terrible puns. Watching the contestants make their way through the categories each week under the ironical eye of host Victoria Corin is like watching Olympic athletes attempting death-defying feats — only instead of winning international fame and medals, victors walk away with nothing more than a warm congratulations from Corin. This show is as absurdly, smugly difficult as Jeopardy! on Mensa mode, and I love it with my whole heart. (Available on BBC Two in the UK, and some episodes are on YouTube.) —Constance Grady, senior correspondent
Brat
It was late July when Jake Tapper inquired, “Is the idea that we’re all kind of brat?” live on a CNN panel. That was just after Kamala HQ went neon green, and well after a million memes threatened overexposure. But Brat has staying power.
It didn’t hurt that Charli xcx later dropped a remix album that adds even bigger beats and deeper meaning to already pitch-perfect source material. She didn’t have the biggest tour, and she certainly didn’t have the most streams, but I bet Brat is the album we’ll still be talking about in 10 years, because behind the sunglasses and the club classics is a vulnerable ode to stumbling through life while falling in love “again and again.”(Streaming on Spotify and Apple Music.) —Sean Rameswaram, host of Today, Explained
“Bull Believer” by Wednesday
In November 2023, I Shazam’d a song I heard playing on the speakers of my local coffee shop. A year and many streams later, I still find myself obsessed with this 2022 alt-rock single. “Bull Believer” by Wednesday is moody and gritty, soft and hard, full of distorted guitar and a vibe I can only describe as a little delirious. And at 8 minutes and 30 seconds, it feels like a journey with a beginning, middle, and an absolutely explosive and wailing end. The song has stuck to me because it’s unabashedly full of rage and despair — emotions that we tend to avoid, even at a time when there’s a lot of reasons to feel them. We all need an outlet for these feelings, and if you’re searching for a raw musical catharsis, this is just the thing. (Streaming on Spotify and Apple Music.) —Sam Delgado, Future Perfect fellow
Sami Blood
A look into the lives of the Sámi, the Indigenous peoples in Scandinavia, Sami Blood follows a 14-year-old girl struggling with an identity crisis as she faces Sweden’s racist attitudes toward native people. The movie stuck with me because of how little I knew about the Sámi going into it, and still how familiar the story was. It helped me better understand the universality of anti-Indigenous racism in the West and the similar oppressive tactics deployed in country after country, from discriminatory boarding schools to segregation to plain-old mocking and shaming. It’s also a really well-made and compelling film, with powerful characters that are hard to forget. (Streaming on Peacock.) —Abdallah Fayyad, policy correspondent
Rachel Bloom: Death, Let Me Do My Special
I first saw Rachel Bloom perform “Death, Let Me Do My Special” live back in 2023. I loved it then, but something about watching the show again when it was released on Netflix this October gave me new appreciation for its jokes and themes.
It’s tempting to wish for an escape to a time before Covid – as Bloom tries desperately to do over and over again in the show, only to be pulled back to the present by her grief. But something about the way she decides to disarm Death with a few jokes before confronting him head-on feels really cathartic, like a good cry or a big laugh. Fair warning: It’s highly likely you’ll do a fair amount of both as you watch. (Streaming on Netflix.) —Carla Javier, supervising producer, Explain It to Me
Hacks
There are few shows I love more these days than Hacks. It’s hilarious, heartwarming, fresh. I love that it focuses on the intergenerational relationship between two women, and once you get hooked on Hannah Einbinder, you can go watch her also great comedy special on HBO. I can’t wait for season four. (Streaming on Max.) —Rachel Cohen, policy correspondent
My Brilliant Friend — The Story of the Lost Daughter
The final season of this Italian series, like the three seasons before it, is a marvel on every level. Based on the novels by Elena Ferrante, this whole series is stunning; the filmmaking, acting, storytelling, all of it is extraordinary. At the center are two complicated, angry, unpredictable women who are so marvelously depicted you’ll feel like you know them. Plus, you’ll learn a lot about 20th-century Italian politics, and this season features some spectacular ’80s fashions. (Streaming on Max.) —Ellen Ioanes, reporter
Manning Fireworks by MJ Lenderman
America’s pantheon of sad cowboy poet crooners — a list that includes Bill Callahan, David Berman, Stephin Merritt — got a new member this year. And somehow, he’s only 25. MJ Lenderman announced himself as one of the greats with an album in September, Manning Fireworks, a collection of catchy, heart-achingly good songs with sometimes poignant, often tragicomic lyrics. I listened to “Wristwatch” and “You don’t know the shape I’m in” an embarrassing number of times already. (Streaming on Apple Music and Spotify.) —Marin Cogan, senior correspondent
Rebel Ridge
Writer-director Jeremy Saulnier is a pro at luring opposing parties into cage matches — one will escape and the other won’t. In Saulnier’s suffocatingly tense Green Room, that entrapment is literal; it’s legal in this year’s Netflix thriller Rebel Ridge. The film opens with Terry, a Black ex-marine played with simmering intensity by Aaron Pierre, pedaling into a small Alabama town with a backpack full of cash to post bail for a wayward cousin. He’s sent flying off his bicycle by a cop, part of the predictably crooked department that stymies Terry’s attempts to work within the town’s labyrinthine legal system. What choice does he have but to respond like John Rambo’s harassed veteran before him? The police chief (a terrifically tyrannical Don Johnson) and Terry’s verbal sparring escalates into a brutally elegant showdown, concluding a film as taut and satisfying as the First Blood it echoes. (Streaming on Netflix.) —Caity PenzeyMoog, senior copy editor
Rejection by Tony Tulathimutte
If you’ve ever felt angry or lonely or resentful or like the world’s hugest loser, take solace in the world of Rejection, where everyone is constantly getting fucked (except, of course, when they can’t). Incels, porn addicts, Twitter freaks, hustle bros, and desperate romantics populate Tony Tulathimutte’s sad, hilarious world in this short story collection where all the characters connect in the cringiest ways possible. Reading this book made me want to physically crawl out of my skin (complimentary). Consider it a refreshingly bleak antidote to the upcoming deluge of try-hard New Year’s resolution content. (Available on Bookshop.org.) —Rebecca Jennings, senior correspondent
Shōgun
My husband and I traveled to Japan in February, and afterward immersed ourselves in Shōgun. I found it to be not only culturally competent but also a faithful depiction of James Clavell’s 1975 novel. (I’m actually re-reading that now because I can’t get enough of this story!)
After so much crappy TV for so long, FX’s remake was refreshing, with excellent acting and casting, pacing, and dialogue. It all hit. (Streaming on Hulu.) —Paige Vega, climate editor
Movies of Hollywood’s pre-Code era
In 1930, sound films became widespread in Hollywood; in 1934, Hollywood studios agreed to heavily censor their films under the Hays Code. The brief window in between is the Pre-Code Talkies Era, a rich and inventive period in which the idea of just what a movie could and should be was in flux. Unfolding during the Great Depression, movies got far bolder in what they dared to say and show, defying what we think of as Old Hollywood’s clichés. My favorites of the period include classy auteur films (Trouble in Paradise, Shanghai Express), fun trashy romps (Baby Face, Night Nurse), social critiques (Heroes for Sale, Wild Boys of the Road), and dazzling extravaganzas (42nd Street, Gold Diggers of 1933). If you’re interested in challenging your preconceptions for what “old movies” are like, this is the era to look at. (A list for your perusal here.) —Andrew Prokop, senior correspondent
Messy Star by chokecherry
I miss being a teenager just before streaming services were a thing, when that visceral, desperate pull to scavenge for illegal downloads formed my identity. With their debut EP Messy Star, Bay Area-grown band chokecherry gives me that feeling again. Their siren-esque vocals, fearlessly heavy guitars, and pop-grunge hypnosis are exactly what our inner teens need. Especially in the deflated liminal space between the election and the next administration, where it feels like all efforts to scream and fight for change amount to nothing, we need women riling up mosh pits. Chokecherry is going to take over the world. (Streaming on Apple Music and Spotify.) —Celia Ford, Future Perfect fellow
Industry
Few things captured my attention this year more than Industry. Living under the shadow of Succession for its first two seasons, HBO’s hot business-drama delivered a landslide season three. The copious sex, drugs, and wealth hooked me, but it was the exploration of nepotism, aristocracy, and relationships that kept me coming back. Each character is deeply flawed and equally cunning. I am still trying to understand the individual jobs within the firm, and the esoteric language they speak may require homework. But hate to watch, love to hate watch: you simply must watch Industry. (Streaming on Max) —Claire White, senior manager of network development
Star Wars: Andor
Andor came out in 2022 but I rewatched it this year with joy and awe. I think a lot of people who would love this show have stayed away because it’s Star Wars, even though it also never really caught on with Star Wars fans because it’s not really Star Wars. You could barely call it sci-fi; it’s basically a show about how political movements form and how one’s politics can change, from the director of Michael Clayton. Fine, if that still sounds bad to you, I get it. (Streaming on Disney+.) —Adam Freelander, supervising story editor, video
“Caravan” by Van Marrison with The Band
I found myself retreating into the music of the past this year, particularly live instrumental performances — and none transfixed me the way Van the Man’s appearance with The Band during Martin Scorsese’s concert documentary The Last Waltz did. Writer Nick Hornby once described Morrison’s live performances of “Caravan” like this: “In the long, vamped passage right before the climax Morrison’s band seems to isolate a moment somewhere between life and its aftermath, a big, baroque entrance hall of a place where you can stop and think about everything that has gone before.”
He was referring to the showstopper on Morrison’s own live album, It’s Too Late To Stop Now, but I think it applies just as aptly to his rendition with The Band, a fusion of their Celtic and Ozark blues. Something about the connectivity and immediacy of these old live performances resonates with me in our disconnected age. I crave it. (Streaming on Spotify.) —Dylan Scott, senior correspondent
1000-lb Sisters
I am not a complicated woman: I enjoy television that is charming and makes me laugh. Amy and Tammy Slaton of TLC’s 1000-lb Sisters check both of those boxes. Earlier this year, a friend introduced me to the show, which chronicles the sisters’ incredible weight loss journeys. But Amy and Tammy are more than their struggles. Frankly, they’re hilarious. Viewers are invited into their small Kentucky hometown and are eventually introduced to their three older siblings, who join Amy and Tammy in transforming their health.
This season, the show’s sixth, Amy gets adventurous with cooking, adding white chocolate to her alfredo sauce; Tammy experiments with fashion and burlesque dancing. In a culture where reality TV seems less and less “real,” Amy, Tammy, and their entire family feel like a relic from the genre’s glory days: They’re loud, they fart on-camera, and they’re not at all concerned with personal branding. (Streaming on Max and TLC GO.) —Allie Volpe, senior reporter
Dropout
Dropout is a comedy channel offering a wide mix of content — some D&D/roleplaying stuff, but also a lot of Whose Line Is It Anyway-style improv. I got into their stuff this year after seeing some clips on TikTok and enjoyed the rapport between the recurring comedians.
There are episodes where the players improvise a whole musical based on a few wacky prompts, and it’s pretty jaw-dropping to watch people so witty and quick on their feet. The channel is also a lesson on how smaller media companies can survive the era of Big Streaming. It charges $6 per month for a big collection of high-quality, regularly updated content, and as far as I know, the business is thriving. (Available on YouTube.) —Whizy Kim, senior reporter
My Old Ass
I went into the theater thinking My Old Ass would be a lighthearted, quirky comedy. I left determined to double down on my gratitude for the most important people in my life. Actors Aubrey Plaza and Maisy Stella do a fantastic job of invoking a bittersweet nostalgia while reminding us just how precious the present moment is. (Available on Amazon Prime.) —Lauren Katz, senior newsroom project manager
The Later Daters
The world fell in love with The Golden Bachelor, and rightfully so — watching seasoned singles find their mate was the feel-good content we didn’t know we needed, especially for those of us who might feel already disillusioned by the dating pool in our 20s and 30s. Later Daters is another take on dating for golden singles, but with, in my opinion, more nuance, heart, and personality than The Golden Bachelor.
It employs more of a polished docuseries tone, chronicling the lives of several older men and women looking for love the second (or third or fourth!) time around. Michelle Obama is a producer on this show, which makes sense; it presents a poignant mix of humor and heartfelt charm that made it hard for me to turn off. (Streaming on Netflix.) —Elizabeth Price, director of grants & foundation development
The joys of Pinterest
In a world full of cursed algorithms, my tried-and-true social platform is Pinterest. For the past 11 years, I’ve built my homepage brick by brick. From the board “cool pools” of — you guessed it — cool pools I created in high school, to a board of dinner recipes I share with my partner so we can take the guesswork out of what to make for dinner, Pinterest is both the perfect place to ignite inspiration and a hilarious time capsule. Whatever the opposite of doomscrolling is, I’ve found it on this social platform. (Located at Pinterest.com.) —Gabby Fernandez, associate director of audience
Evan Baggs Live @ Watergate Berlin
This year, when Spotify Wrapped came out, my listening minutes were a fraction of previous years; I had moved to the long-forgotten SoundCloud, where my playlists have been replaced with roving DJ mixes.
What I like so much about the DJ mix format is that they remind me of the mixtapes and CDs of my youth. My most-streamed mix was made in 2011 by New York/Berlin DJ and producer Evan Baggs.
The synthesizers are sparse, the bass lines are minimal, the drums are somehow loose and sturdy at once, while the energy shifts from melancholic to serious to hypnotic to playful in the span of an hour. Even though it’s a decade old, it remains a great introduction to, for lack of a better phrase, what the modern “underground” house music scene has to offer. (Streaming on SoundCloud.) —Kenny Torella, Future Perfect staff writer
Immortal John Triptych games
Attempts to describe Joe Richardson’s indie video games often invoke Monty Python. One look at them, and it’s easy to see why: The three games included in his Immortal John Triptych — the last of which, The Death of the Reprobate, he released on Steam in November — are intricate pastiches of Renaissance art and classical music, but they are also wildly irreverent and very funny. Nothing in these point-and-click worlds is sacred, even if their soundtracks are, and Richardson’s bonkers collages make magnificent backdrops for solving satisfyingly complex puzzles. Fans of stunning visuals (did you ever imagine you’d see a masterwork move?) and self-aware humor will find each of these a high-low delight to the end. (Available on Steam.) —Keren Landman, senior health reporter
All of Us Strangers (2023)
This British fantasy movie set in the peripheries of London tells a story of modern loneliness that has haunted me since the frigid January night I went to see it in theaters. Andrew Scott, playing a gay screenwriter entering early middle age, channels angst in a tenor that will resonate with anyone who has ever confronted the fear of dying alone.
And yet, this movie offers so much hope. It set me on an existential spiral for the following days that culminated with a reinvigorated appreciation and special gratitude for chosen family. Think of it this way: This movie can be a tear-wrenching, cathartic experience, a comforting companion to get you through at least one cold winter night.-(Streaming on Hulu.) —Christian Paz, senior politics reporter
Robert Caro’s LBJ biographies
I know I am not the first person to say, “Hey, did you know that Robert Caro is really good at what he does?” But Robert Caro is really, really good at what he does.
I did not come into his four-part series on Lyndon B. Johnson with any interest in the subject matter. I didn’t even come into it with a particular interest in biographies. But these books read like novels and made me care deeply about LBJ and his myriad machinations. Each book is full of mini-dramas with clear stakes that all layer together to create a full and fascinating picture of how power works in politics.
I found myself rooting for LBJ sometimes, rooting against him at other times, and thoroughly disgusted with him much of the time (Justice for Lady Bird!), but I was never, never bored. (Available on Bookshop.org.) —Byrd Pinkerton, senior producer
