In this time of reflection, The A.V. Club asks that most obvious of questions: What are you thankful for this year?
A friend invited me to see this Mexico City band, and maybe it was the name—diles que no me maten translates to “tell them not to kill me” in English—or that particular friend, but I just kind of assumed it was a metal outfit or something else harsh that I wouldn’t be into that week. But luckily I did check the group out, and “Outro” quickly became the song I played on repeat the most this summer (and now, in retrospect, this year). But the track is hardly illustrative of the band, which jumps all over the place—there’s synthy, spoken-word stuff and psychedelic-tinged, gorgeous confessionals like “El Circo” and some krautrocky, driving moments—with the through line being that each song has something experimental or surprising up its sleeve. That’s especially true live, when Diles Que No Me Maten goes off into spacey, loopy, and at points Can-esque territories as its captivating frontman, Jonás Derbez, switches between lost-in-thought vocals and wonky saxophone improvisations. [Tim Lowery]
There's nothing like a really good movie house to make you appreciate the cinematic experience. It's not just the ambience, the architecture, the fact that you're not getting your eyes baked by mall fluorescents: It's the knowledge that you, and everyone around you, has skipped the multiplex experience for something a little grander and more real. In my home city of Portland, all of those pleasures are concentrated in a single place: the Hollywood Theater. Built in 1926, and operated by a non-profit that keeps it up to modern standards of both projection and comfort, the Hollywood is my favorite movie theater in the world, a warm, beautiful space that programs the best film lineup in Portland. Whether it was watching The Hateful 8 in 70-millimeter in its giant main auditorium, checking out The Substance in one of the upstairs cinemas, or attending monthly film-trivia nights or B-movie bingo games, it's the go-to place for cinema nerds in the city—and one I’m grateful for every time I walk through its doors. (Also, you can get a bag of popcorn for just five bucks. Heaven!) [William Hughes]
I’ve beaten Baldur’s Gate 3 like a follower of Loviatar, goddess of pain: relentlessly and with great pleasure. But this year marked the first time I played through with a full co-op party. As a guy in his thirties, finding a regular time to hang out with friends is harder and harder. People are busy; life is happening. There’s a reason that a stereotype about D&D is that the toughest boss is scheduling. So I’m extra grateful to my buddies for taking the time, week in and week out, to make stupid fantasy decisions in one of the most intricate and well-realized RPGs ever made. There’s a ceiling to how much fun you can have blowing rolls on your own. But with a group whose immediate future also relies on your success with the dice, each choice is heightened. [Jacob Oller]
Like pretty much everyone else who loved Mad Max: Fury Road, I was stoked for Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga—or at least, I kept telling myself I was excited for Furiosa. Realistically, though, the trailers didn't hook me the way I hoped they would. The button on the first one didn't inspire hope—it was Chris Hemsworth delivering the line "Do you have it in you to make it epic?" The outdated slang gave me a full-body cringe, and I had a hard time shaking that feeling. Still, I trusted in George Miller, and I'm so glad I didn't let the lackluster marketing turn me off completely. Furiosa is one of my favorite movies of the year, and I'm still sad that it underperformed at the box office. Its themes of hope and rebellion, especially right now, feel vital. [Jen Lennon]
It feels like joy is in short supply these days, but it certainly wasn't at New York City's first ever All Things Go festival (an offshoot of the original in D.C.). Yes, there were storms forecasted from dawn 'til dusk. Yes, buzzy headliner Chappell Roan dropped out mere days before she was supposed to take the stage. But none of that mattered to me, my friends, or the scores of other, mostly queer women who trekked out, ponchos in hand, to sing and dance and cry in the rain. So many things happened that day that could have earned a spot on this list—a full Chappell Roan dance party and surprise Lucy Dacus performance among them—but really, it was just about being together. As so many of us continue to feel threatened and scared for the future, that's a feeling I'll hold onto for a long time. [Emma Keates]
I am a known evangelist about the pleasures of a long-running network TV series (whether it's a procedural drama or a classic sitcom), and as we get deeper into the streaming era, my convictions about this form of entertainment only grow stronger. In times of personal crisis this year, the first place I turned to relax and unwind was old primetime soaps with lots of episodes. (After finishing my first watch of Grey's Anatomy, I jumped right into Private Practice.) And I've been gratified to see some real fun on network shows this year, whether it's the celeb killers on Elsbeth, the outrageous romances on Doctor Odyssey, Kaitlin Olson's performance on High Potential, or that freakin' bee-nado on 9-1-1. Having a series like Abbott Elementary to look forward to every week will always bring me joy, but this year I'm just thankful that network TV as a whole isn't going down without a fight. [Mary Kate Carr]
Not to be all “I don’t own a TV” about it, but I quit streaming music this year. Streaming destroyed my relationship with the medium, flattening the whole art form into background noise. Unfortunately, the first thing you learn after breaking the stream is that you no longer have a music library. My MP3 collection used to be beautiful, but a decade of renting from Apple left me with significant holes in my catalogue. Thankfully, used CDs are cheap. Armed with an external $30 CD burner, I’ve begun to rebuild, replacing dead tracks with pre-owned copies of Sticky Fingers and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. Greatest-hits collections like The Essential Leonard Cohen and Toots And The Maytals’ Time Tough became my new best friends. I may be spending too much on music, sure, but at least I appreciate it again. [Matt Schimkowitz]
We can joke about Nicole Kidman’s AMC commercial, but this A-List subscriber knows she’s right about the magic of theatrical viewing. In 2024, films helped me suspend reality (much needed!) and get lost in the big screen when, say, Josh Hartnett needlessly removed his shirt in Trap’s climax or Dev Patel trained in Monkey Man, which led my fellow audience members to cheer. The jaw-dropping silence when the credits rolled on The Substance, the tennis-ball POV in Challengers, the shocked laughter during Anora’s home invasion, and the entirety of the WTF-inducing Megalopolis were great reminders of why we all love this. Best of all, there was nothing like the collective experience of shaking and screaming—mostly with joy—while watching Dune: Part Two in 4DX. [Saloni Gajjar]
I know it's corny to shout out the site I work for, but if I can't be overly earnest this time of year, when Mariah Carey is at the height of her powers, then when can I be? So, I'll just say that I am grateful for another chance to be a part of The A.V. Club, which has long been home to some of the best pop culture criticism anywhere online. I feel lucky to once again get to work with writers and editors who feel passionately about helping people understand the world around them through trenchant writing and smart analysis. And a big thank you to our readers, who stuck things out with us, as well as all the artists who joined us for the revival of A.V. Undercover. [Danette Chavez]
