Welcome to “What’s Good,” a column where we break down what’s soothing, distracting, or just plain good in the streaming world with a “rooting for everybody Black” energy. These are the best onscreen performances of 2024 by Black folks.
What’s Good? Black art and artists. As always. This year, we saw the typical reductive debates about whether there’s too much trauma onscreen when it comes to telling Black stories which only further pigeonholes our work — a story doesn’t have to be conflict or pain-free to be worthy of being told (for the people on social media who reduced August Wilson’s The Piano Lesson down to just a Black Trauma Story™, come outside, I just want to talk). And the stories that are full of pain shouldn’t be the only ones that make it to the big screen. Two things can be true! Nuance exists! Most good pieces of art traffic in a wide range of emotions — the light, the heavy, and everything in between — and what makes any great film is the performances that make us believe every word, whether it’s funny or sad or both.
In 2024, there were so many Black performers who met the gravity of their material or elevated what was on the page to make it even better. And in a year that tested us all — seriously, we barely survived — through their work these artists gave us so much, a reprieve from the hellscape of our social feeds and portrayals of the human experience that revealed a little more about ourselves. Every year, we usually do the same song and dance during awards season. There are a slew of Black performances that my timeline gushes over, that my friends and I are obsessed with, that remind me why I fell in love with movies in the first place, and yet, they end up deserving far more recognition than they get. Yes, we’ve long since divested from the gatekeeping archaic institutions that consistently exclude Black folks from legacy awards, but ‘tis the season to look back on the best of the best of the year. And the best, as always, is Black as hell — whether they get accolades from certain governing bodies or not.
If you look at most of the year-end lists and awards predictions by legacy (read: white) publications, you’ll find the same — mostly white — names: Adrien Brody for The Brutalist, Timothée Chalamet for A Complete Unknown, Nicole Kidman for Babygirl, Demi Moore for The Substance, Angelina Jolie for Maria, Mikey Madison for Anora, just to name a few. And this year, there are actually multiple Black names in the mix (what a concept!). Colman Domingo for Sing Sing, Denzel Washington for Gladiator II, Zoe Saldaña for Emilia Pérez, Zendaya for Challengers, and Cynthia Erivo for Wicked all garnered Golden Globe nominations. As they should! As good as all of these performances are, they aren’t the only Black actors whose work is worthy of recognition this year. And while I hope they all continue to get the love they deserve throughout awards season, knowing these institutions (aside from The NAACP Image Awards, which should be just as big of an honor as the Oscars), they probably will just pick one or two (likely Domingo and Saldaña) to acknowledge and say “that’s enough Blackness for today!” and keep it moving. Well, we are in the business of celebrating Black work and giving artists their flowers right on time, not long after their efforts have been overlooked for years.
So, here is my exhaustive, definitive — and still not long enough — list of 2024’s best Black film performances.
There’s so much to say about Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba. A whole dissertation could be written on how Erivo’s Blackness informed her portrayal of the Wicked Witch of the West and how her choice to give the character microbraids was a brilliant nod to the similarities between Elphaba’s journey and so many Black women who have been bullied, ostracized and deemed unpretty, unappreciated and unpopular by society. In my review of the film, I wrote that “of course, Elphaba, with her nonconformist activist spirit, resilience, strength in the face of insurmountable challenges and a less-talented blonde girl trying to steal her shine, was Black-girl coded.”
If you really hold space for the lyrics of “Defying Gravity” you’ll find a story about a woman who, in the face of a fascist regime and a supposed ally who abandons her in the name of ambition, she stands up for herself. She fights for others. She sheds her insecurities and finds freedom in knowing the difference between right and wrong — and standing strong in her convictions. It takes a special kind of performer to pull off Elphaba’s emotional depth, but also the playfulness and whimsy the role requires (and to hit that epic “Defying Gravity” rallying cry). Erivo is that performer. As I wrote in my review, “Before Wicked, I knew Cynthia Erivo was a star. I’ve seen Widows and that Tony Award performance of “I’m Here” from The Color Purple (you know the one). After Wicked, I know that she is so talented she can break me with nothing more than a key change and a chin quiver.” I’m not exaggerating when I say that this performance healed parts of the inner child inside of me and for that, I will be forever indebted to Cynthia Erivo.
The Fire Inside is the story of Olympic boxer Claressa Shields and the inequalities that female athletes — especially Black women athletes — face in the sports world, even the ones who break records and win it all. After I watched the film at TIFF, I wrote that “not enough people outside of her boxing world know Shields’ story, and my hope is that this film — this intimate, stirring, gorgeous drama [written by Barry Jenkins and directed by Rachel Morrison] — allows more people to know her greatness, but that it also acts as a vehicle for its cast who also deserve more. Ryan Destiny deserves a career that is worthy of her talent, one that dark-skinned Black women often aren’t afforded.” In the film, Destiny plays Claressa with the perfect amount of soft stubbornness, quiet determination, and justified frustration. She shines on her own but it’s in her scenes with Brian Tyree Henry (who plays her coach Jason Crutchfield) where her talent becomes undeniable. Going toe to toe with Henry (one of the best actors of his generation), Destiny proves she can hang with the heavyweights. Even though the film is getting high critical praise (I know Rotten Tomatoes isn’t a perfect grading system but it’s sitting at 94% fresh), it’s likely to fly more under the radar than the year’s buzzier releases, but if you haven’t yet, I beg you to watch this movie and see what happens when a soaring talent like Destiny lives up to her potential.
I love it when I’m right. I’ve been yelling (complimentary) about Colman Domingo’s performance in Sing Sing since it premiered at TIFF in September 2023. Back then, I thought its release would be overshadowed by Domingo’s work in Rustin, which is great, but it’s a far lesser film. Turns out, the folks at A24 probably thought the same thing because they held Sing Sing’s release and let the momentum from Domingo’s award-season run last year spark interest in this beautifully understated prison drama. Domingo plays John “Divine G” Whitfield, one of the senior members of the Sing Sing correctional facility’s Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) theater troupe. When we meet Domingo’s Divine G, he’s a bit pretentious but it’s clear he takes acting very seriously. He’s also so smart he takes it upon himself to help his fellow inmates with their appeals and other paperwork. He’s hopeful and authoritative, living a life of dignity in a place that’s purposely void of it. As the film goes on, Divine G is faced with the realities of incarceration, the dejection of an enduring sentence and the rejection that comes when the world sees you are a prisoner first and a person second. Domingo plays this arc flawlessly and Sing Sing makes a quiet yet radical case for abolition without being preachy at all, just by showing the humanity of these incarcerated men and the dignity every person deserves to live their life with. It’s a stunning rumination on the beauty and healing power of art. The film is a wonder, and Domingo is magnificent.
Not to quote myself (again), but here’s what I said about Zendaya in Challengers back in April: “In a lesser star’s hands, the movie doesn’t work. Period. Without Zendaya’s quiet and commanding presence, and her somehow intimidating vulnerability, [her character] Tashi really ain’t shit. It’s a testament to her talent that she turned this character into someone worth defending, and someone you root for in spite of yourself. Tashi Duncan may be Challengers’ villain, but Zendaya is its hero.” Challengers marked the first time Zendaya opened a theatrical release on her name alone as the top billed star and I know we’re going to look back on it as the first in an impressive filmography from the superstar. This is only the beginning. Zendaya is widely known for franchises like Dune and Spider-Man. Challengers is an original film, a crowd-pleasing, campy exploration of the spectacle of sport and the absurdity of love triangles (with GREAT kissing) that proved to be a thrilling choice for the former Disney star. Tashi Duncan — the complicated, messy, yet consistent and clear-eyed, cutthroat, ruthless athlete — is the perfect role to show us what Zendaya is capable of.
@refinery29 “Not everyone is likable all the time.” Will you be watching Zendaya in Challengers? #Challengers #Zendaya #mikefaist #joshoconnor #movietok ♬ original sound – Refinery29
The thing about Denzel Washington is that since he first graced our screens in 1981, he’s been the guy you can’t look away from. His big screen debut was years before I was born so I am fortunate enough to say that I have never known a world without Washington’s enormous onscreen presence. I have never known a moment in one of Washington’s movies when I was looking at someone else while he was in the frame. Sometimes, this works in his scene partner’s favor — Washington’s talent ricochets onto them, making them better — but in the case of Gladiator II, it works against the film’s supposed star, Paul Mescal. In every scene with the pair together, Mescal is trying his damndest to keep up, but Washington is acting circles around him, oozing movie star charisma while Mescal is still giving indie It Boy. It’s not that he’s bad, he’s just not enough. Washington makes Gladiator II watchable not just because he’s, well, Denzel Washington, but because he seems like the only one who understands how silly their subject material is and how much fun it should be to fully commit to a character in a big, popcorn blockbuster. As the scheming, blinged-out, bisexual menace, Macrinus, Washington is the movie’s bright spot and the best villain of the year.
Nickel Boys challenges our perspective. In an age where on Tiktok the term “POV” has lost all meaning (influencers record selfie videos of themselves in the frame with the caption “POV” when their actual point of view is looking at a camera) director RaMell Ross delivers a film that tells the story about the devastating experiences of two boys at a reform school in the segregated South through their eyes. As the camera shows us what they see, we’re introduced to Hattie, the grandmother of one of the boys, Elwood Curtis (Ethan Herisse). Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor plays Hattie with the emotional precision we’ve come to expect from the powerhouse.
Ellis-Taylor has ripped my heart out and made me sob many times so I was expecting her to do the same in this film, but it was one scene in particular that broke me. Hatte shows up to the school to see her grandson, but the institution is basically just a front for racism and abuse so, of course, they bar her from seeing Elwood. Through the eyes of his friend Turner (Brandon Wilson), we see Hattie’s heartbreak and confusion at not being allowed to see her family. She asks Turner for a hug — and another when he half-asses it. She’s warm amidst her pain and it’s a scene that shows the humanity of the trauma of that era. In it, Ellis-Taylor is at her very best.
In an interview with Vanity Fair, Marianne Jean-Baptiste called working on the Mike Leigh-directed film Hard Truths, “petrifying, exciting, exhilarating.” That also sums up the experience watching Jean-Baptiste play Pansy, a middle-aged woman in London who lashes out at the world in response to her own pain. She pushes her family and, well, everyone – including the checkout clerk at a grocery, someone who wants her parking spot, a sales person at a furniture store, etc. Pansy understands her anger as much as the people around her, which means that, simply put, she doesn’t. She’s a Difficult Woman who isn’t easy to be around or, frankly, to watch. But that’s the point. “The world is full of Pansys. People live with other people’s conditions,” Jean-Baptiste told the Associated Press. “Often I’ve met people who have just been enraged, because you didn’t see them in the car park pulling into the space. You go: It can’t just be about me. How did you get that angry about something so stupid? You don’t know what they’re going through or how they got there.”
Jean-Baptiste’s performance is layered and relentless. As Pansy is pushing everyone around her (including her sister Chantelle played beautifully by Michele Austin), through her nuanced performance, Jean-Baptiste is pushing the audience to care about someone they may not fully understand. The hard truth that this film confronts is the messy reality of life, family, and relationships — and that ultimately, happy endings and happy, shiny, people aren’t linear. Jean-Baptiste is a singular artist and Hard Truths is a vehicle to display her insurmountable talent.
People weren’t happy when Kingsley Ben-Adir was cast as Jamaican legend Bob Marley. Despite his impressive resume of playing historical figures we all know by their iconic voices and famous mannerisms (Ben-Adir played Barack Obama in The Comey Rule and Malcolm X in One Night In Miami), it’s understandable that the casting of Ben-Adir, a British dude with Trinidadian grandparents, was met with an outcry of criticism and cynicism. But those cries were quieted by the power of his performance. Ben-Adir is magnetic as Marley, capturing the lure and lore of the icon, while also grounding him in subtle instances of tenderness and humanity. Even when the movie doesn’t, Ben-Adir meets the moment. And his Patois is impeccable. As I wrote in my piece on the film, “After my press screening of Bob Marley: One Love, I stood outside the theater with a group of Black journalists, most of us Caribbean Canadians, in awe of what Ben-Adir pulled off. It was an impossible task and he did it.”
Bob Marley: One Love is not even in the awards conversation this year which we can probably blame on the film’s February release or the fact that Bob’s last name was Marley, not Dylan. If Timotheé Chamalet is considered a shoo-in for nominations for his portrayal of a singer-songwriter who inspired a generation and changed the course of music, well Ben-Adir did the same, and exquisitely. People seem to have forgotten Bob Marley: One Love entirely even though it was one of the biggest box office successes of 2024, but I will never forget the quiet moments of this film when watching Ben-Adir inhabit Marley was so thrilling it took my breath away.
Since Zoe Saldaña strutted into the dance studio smacking her gum as the rebellious ballerina Eva Rodriguez in Center Stage, I knew she had something special. Almost 25 years later, she’s on her way to a potential Oscar nomination for playing Rita in Emilia Pérez, a surrealist musical dramedy about a trans cartel leader (Karla Sofía Gascón) who enlists Rita to be her lawyer and to help her safely transition into a new life. When I saw Emilia Pérez at TIFF, I was mesmerized. Watching the film was a bonkers, absurd, and wild ride — unlike anything I’d seen before — and I thought Saldana was, as usual, magnetic and riveting onscreen. Since the film’s release, some of my fellow critics have called out the script for its antiquated, stereotypical portrayal of transness and as a cisgender woman, I defer to them on whether the film succeeds at telling an authentic story of a trans woman (their general consensus: It doesn’t). The writer/ director, Jacques Audiard, is a cis man, after all. Drew Burnett Gregory at Austrostraddle called the film “a glorious disaster” and my friend Sarah-Tai Black at The Globe and Mail called it “a shallow and soulless endeavour.” I want to be clear that I understand the film’s criticisms and I agree that, at times, it devolves into convoluted chaos. Which is why I’m just going to focus on Saldaña’s performance.
As Rita, a down-and-out attorney thrown into the world of a cartel kingpin when she orchestrates her transition and fake death, Saldaña is tough and vulnerable, loyal and understanding. She takes us into Emila’s world and The LA Times calls her “a compassionate audience surrogate and urgent energy source.” Saldaña’s performance is vibrant, a dynamic spark in a movie full of firework twists and turns. And it’s unlike anything she’s ever done. In her illustrious 25-year career, Saldaña is still managing to surprise us with her range, and that’s what makes her so impressive.
I’m still not over how young Agatha Danbury (played by Arsema Thomas) was done so dirty by the writers of Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton story. Since that series, I’ve been waiting for Thomas to get material worthy of her brilliance. I loved Queen Charlotte overall and Thomas was perfectly cast, but her individual storyline was so disappointing I was excited to see what she’d do next. Enter She Taught Love, a love story in which Thomas plays Mali. In Unbothered’s piece on the film written by Ebonie Walker, we praised the performance: “As Mali, Thomas is magnetic, creating a character that feels so familiar to me, because of her nuance,” Walker wrote. “At times Mali is guarded. Other times, hurt. Determined, disappointed, frustrated, elated, head over heels in love. Thomas expertly emotes it all, often needing only to use her eyes.”
She Taught Love joins the Black romantic drama canon with Love Jones, Love & Basketball, and Poetic Justice in which Black women are centered in romance and further the conversation on what we deserve when it comes to love. As classic as those films are, none of those leads are dark-skinned. Which is why seeing Thomas in this role — aside from the simple fact that she’s incredible in it — is so exciting. And, once again, I can’t wait to see what’s next. I’ll give Thomas herself the last word on that: “The hope, and the prayer is that I will be on more screens and more dark-skinned women will be on screens because people are creating this work. Stuff that empowers us, and encourages us, and shows us in all of the lights, complexities, and nuances. And no longer in stereotypes. That, to me, is what true liberation looks like.”
I’m not going to dwell on the fact that if another Academy-Award winning actor played a beloved historical figure in a biopic as expertly as Regina King played trailblazing politician and the first Black woman presidential candidate, Shirley Chisholm, they’d be batting away awards. Sure, the movie isn’t as great as it could be, but many biopics where the performances outshine the material get the love that King deserves. I said I wasn’t going to dwell so let’s move on to what makes this performance one of my favorites of the year. Chisholm was raised both in Bed-Stuy and Barbados so her accent is very specific. King is able to pull it off without it becoming distracting or schticky. As The Guardian put it, “King’s Shirley is ever regal and right, even when, according to every single reason and number provided by her opponents or team, she’s wrong.”
Chisholm’s story, like so many Black women, is one of resilience and self-belief in spite of the world telling you the opposite, that your goals are too lofty, your dreams invalid. As Chisholm, King is confident and determined, breathing life into a figure the film tries to flatten. As Peyton Robinson at Roger Ebert put it, “Regina King is excellent, delivering stormy passion and spunk, uttering Chisholm’s words with a power that booms from the depth of her spirit. But tragically, her emotional performance and investment are betrayed by the film’s conflation of achievement and persona.” I wish this performance from King was in a better movie, but it’s still a beautiful tribute to a trailblazer.
Every positive thing I’m about to say about Jharrel Jerome’s performance in Unstoppable is not because he freestyled for me when I interviewed him at TIFF in support of the film. I swear! Jerome is charismatic when he’s casually sitting across from you spitting rhymes about why you should see his movie, and that charisma is palpable when he’s onscreen. In Unstoppable, he plays Anthony Robles, a champion wrestler who was born without his right leg. It’s an incredible story. Unstoppable is a by-the-numbers biopic with all the emotional beats you expect from an underdog-to-champion sports movie, but when the script veers into clichés and the directing is uninspired, Jerome elevates the material with a relentless and enthralling performance. Jerome plays Anthony as charming and tough, with an exterior built strong enough to withstand the injustices of being a disabled athlete, but also with a simmering vulnerability, holding his emotions on the surface, ready to bubble over at any moment. You’ll love rooting for Anthony in this story, but you’ll leave Unstoppable rooting even harder for Jerome.
We’re probably going to see a lot of Lupita Nyong’o this awards season but it will be for her involvement in The Wild Robot where she voices the titular character. She’s great in that too, but in my opinion, her standout role this year was in A Quiet Place: Day One. In the post-apocalyptic thriller, Nyong’o plays Samira (Sam), a poet and a terminal cancer patient who wants to live — just a little – before she dies, which sets her on a quest across New York City as sound-loving aliens wreak havoc. The simplicity of Sam’s main goal (to make it across New York to her beloved Harlem pizza parlor before she dies) makes A Quiet Place: Day One stand out from its predecessors. Its story is very good – an emotional, gut wrenching exploration of grief and humanity — and Nyong’o is at her absolute best. Since Jordan Peele’s Us, we’ve known that Nyong’o can do horror with the best of them (she deserved an Oscar nomination!) and here, she does simmering anger and bone-chilling trepidation with such skill, she’ll have you holding your breath with each whisper.
What Else Is Good?
• Team Unbothered. Period.
• Corny Black Christmas movies that make us smile, swoon and remember what the true reason for the season is: to become one with your couch, turn your brain off and watch two people fall in love! At Christmas!
• The Black women who challenged conservative beauty trends in 2024
• This beautifully vulnerable personal essay by our contributing editor Dontaira Terrell about overcoming grief during the holidays.
• BEYONCÉ BOWL
Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?
Black Women Gave The Best Performances Of 2022
The Best Black Women Film Performances Of The Year
It’s Danielle Deadwyler’s Time. Finally.
This article was originally published on refinery29.com.
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