The best Blu-rays of 2024

Shaun of the Dead propelled the careers of its director, writers, and stars; accelerated the trend of zombie movies and TV shows; and inspired countless comedy horror films in the decade that followed. When a piece of entertainment accomplishes that much, it’s easy to lose track of the actual thing. Revisiting Shaun of the Dead in beautiful 4K — with a killer Dolby Atmos mix, to boot — will remind you how silly, clever, and exciting this blend of action, horror, comedy, and gore was and still is.

The package includes a new featurette in which director Edgar Wright and actors Simon Pegg and Nick Frost reflect on the film on its 20th anniversary, plus a trove of bonus features from the film’s many previous home video releases. You get multiple behind-the-scenes video diaries; a bounty of outtakes and deleted scenes; and four commentaries featuring the creators, the cast, and zombies.

Arcane Season 1 Collector’s Edition — one of the year’s best packages — includes a metal d20, seven resin dice, art cards, and a fabric map. Unfortunately, it seems to be sold out. However! A standard version is still widely available and features the same stunning 4K presentation of the Netflix series.

Bodisc includes more than three hours of bonus features. Want to know how the project went from pitch to development, to creation, to streaming? A bounty of featurettes tracks every step in the creative process.

For years, rumors swirled that Guillermo del Toro would one day direct an adaptation of BioShock. Instead, we got something better: a period romance that, in abstract, imagines what might have happened had the creature from the Black Lagoon been successful in love. The Shape of Water is the director’s most critically acclaimed film, receiving 13 Academy Award nominations and winning four statues, including Best Director and Best Picture.

Criterion’s disc includes a “Masterclass from 2017 on the film’s technical aspects, featuring del Toro and crew members,” a critical essay from the talented writer Carlos Aguilar, a behind-the-scenes documentary, and my fave, a conversation between del Toro and The Green Knight director David Lowery.

Galaxy Quest is one of the great sci-fi comedies, made better if you have a permanent space in your heart for Star Trek and nerd con culture. A group of aliens kidnaps the cast of a Star Trek-like show, mistaking the events of the series for reality. Together, the aliens and humans go on an intergalactic adventure that could have been plucked from the show’s writers room. A great premise becomes an exceptional movie thanks to the murderer’s row of talent involved, including Sigourney Weaver, Alan Rickman, Tony Shalhoub, Sam Rockwell, and Tim Allen.

Unlike with most of the other entries on this list, you won’t find a plethora of extras here. But this disc is notable for being the first home video version of Galaxy Quest ever to faithfully reproduce the way the film was originally exhibited in theaters: with three different aspect ratios. And we would be remiss to exclude a new 4K presentation of this particular movie on a list at Polygon.

My colleague Alice Jovanée described The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth as “two of the best Muppet movies that don’t feature the Muppets.” Spot on!

Shout Factory released elaborate special editions for both films that feature posters, artwork, card games, and other baubles. They’re big and expensive and perfect for hardcore fans. But for the average person who wants to flesh out their home video collection with a truly strange masterpiece of a “children’s film,” I recommend the stand-alone Steelbook release of The Dark Crystal.

If you’ve ever wondered what it would look like if the most evil Muppet ever breathed its last breath and then disintegrated into a mortifying pile of bone, dust, and hair, then, dear reader, have I got the film for you!

This one’s my annual pick for the collector sickos. You can get most of Alfred Hitchcock’s films on 4K Blu-ray for cheaper and standard Blu-ray for much cheaper. But these kinds of display books — including last year’s gorgeous Universal Monsters set and Criterion’s exceptional Godzilla collection — are, to me, what Steelbooks are to most collectors. They look beautiful when displayed in a living room, where these collections belong, always ready to provide some spur-of-the-moment entertainment.

Hitchcock: The Iconic Film Collection contains 38 pages of art, history, trivia, and behind-the-scenes details. And tucked within the pages, you’ll find the discs for Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, Vertigo, North by Northwest, Psycho, and The Birds. The cover art is by LA-based painter, designer, and muralist Tristan Eaton.

Perfect Days follows Hirayama, an aging man who cleans the newly constructed Tokyo Toilets, a collection of strikingly beautiful public restrooms installed throughout Shibuya. Each day, he progresses through the same rituals, eating the same meals, taking the same photos, and performing the same job. Until things change. Ever so slightly.

This isn’t the most thrilling elevator pitch on a list full of films brimming with explosions and death-defying stunts. That’s the point. Hirayama isn’t the typical movie lead. Nor is his quest the typical blockbuster journey. This unfamiliarity, novelty even, makes Perfect Days powerful and special. Because most of us have far more in common with this man than someone saving the world from apocalypse.

The Criterion disc includes interviews with the film’s iconic director Wim Winders, the lead actor Koji Yakusho, and even the director of the Tokyo Toilets project, Koji Yanai. Plus, for folks who enjoy supplemental reading, the set features a lovely essay from critic Bilge Ebiri.

You can reflect on Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga from two opposing POVs.

1. One of the year’s best films — and one of the decade’s best action showcases — failed to find its audience, costing its studio millions of dollars and casting doubt on George Miller making another Mad Max film before the culmination of his life.

2. One of the year’s best films — and one of the decade’s best action showcases — got made for a comparably niche but passionate fandom, despite the previous entry being nearly a decade old, having had a notoriously difficult production, and incurring a net loss of $20-40 million dollars. George Miller might not make another Mad Max film again, so thank goodness he stuffed at least three into Furiosa, a “saga” in the truest sense.

I hold the latter perspective. It’s a miracle George Miller gets to make his bombastic, political, high-degree of difficulty, barely-commercial cinema any time, let alone in the death rattle of the MCU Era. Hopefully, like previous Mad Max films, Furiosa will garner the love and respect it deserves in home video.

The disc includes a 57-minute making-of documentary, along with a handful of short BTS featurettes. But the point of a 4K disc for a film like this is the visuals and sound. It does not disappoint. Nothing beats Miller’s films in a giant theater, though this 4K disc does its best to come close to that experience of A/V nirvana.

For anyone under 30, The Last Unicorn may as well be The Lost Unicorn. This animated fantasy from 1982 has been around long enough to complete the full life cycle of a cinematic oddity, from its disastrous theatrical run to cult status and back into obscurity.

I’ll be honest: the animation is an acquired taste. And yet, its unusualness benefits from the high resolution of 4K. Nothing today looks like this because, hit or miss, the artists made some big choices! The film features a hypnotic fantasy story told through excellent voice work by Mia Farrow, Alan Arkin, Jeff Bridges, Angela Lansbury, Christopher Lee, and many other beloved actors of the era.

While the Fast and Furious franchise simmered into its mega-blockbuster form, Vin Diesel willed another of his projects into a blockbuster series. The Chronicles of Riddick is the second installment in The Chronicles of Riddick series. (I see how that might be confusing).

Like much of Diesel’s work, questions like “Is Chronicles of Riddick good?” defy easy answers. It’s crafted well enough, particularly compared to the dire state of most modern blockbusters. The writing, acting, and special effects are passable. And yet, the film has this Dieselian energy, where you can feel its star willing the project into existence. He treats Riddick as if he were Hamlet and the series like the original Star Wars trilogy.

All in all, Diesel, director David Twohy, and other creative collaborators would defy the odds and turn The Chronicles of Riddick into a mega mixed-media IP, spanning three films, two (quite good!) video games, a short film, a TV special, and a handful of comics and novels.

The Arrow release is appropriately grand, featuring fresh 4K restorations of the theatrical and director’s cut, a new feature-length documentary, multiple audio commentaries, new and archival interviews, and even the TV special that promoted the film’s release.

“Ahead of its time” doesn’t adequately capture the work of Gregg Araki. His films may as well have been made today and dropped into a wormhole in Echo Park. Like Repo Man (also on this list), Araki’s films capture the ignored or outright exiled culture of Los Angeles. But where Repo Man largely hinges on growing white middle class apathy (Is this really all there is?) Araki shines a radiated glowtick on the city’s queer youth scene (I refuse to believe this is all there really is.)

Totally Fucked Up, The Doom Generation, and Nowhere are each masterpieces in their own right, and the work of a talent that still doesn’t have the name recognition he deserves. Yeah, it’s a drag more folks are only now learning about his work. But that so many people will discover these dizzying spins on the “teen film” through restorations that make the director’s audacious use of color and light pop — well, that’s a silver lining.

The set includes a ton of extras, from commentaries to production documentaries. But the two standouts are conversations Araki has with Richard Linklater and James Duval, the latter of whom — after watching these films, I hope you’ll agree — deserves a comeback.

Announced roughly two years ago for home video release, A Place Further Than the Universe finally arrives on physical media in a spectacular special edition that more than makes up for the delays. For newcomers, the series (one of the best anime of the last decade) chronicles the Antarctica expedition of four high school girls. Its unique recipe mixes missing-person mystery, chill hangout comedy, and coming-of-age drama to immaculate effect. And as a 13-episode stand-alone series, you can enjoy the entire thing over a single weekend.

But we have to talk about what literally comes in the set: a poster (cool!), four art cards (nice!), and a 92-page journal (!!!) filled with character breakdowns, concept art, creator interviews, and more — all presented like a DIY scrapbook. I’m not much of a collector of pack-in knickknacks, but I adore this little book.

Not enough? The set also includes a making-of featurette and two soundtrack CDs.

I saw Satoshi Kon’s first film long before I was ready. I was one of those ’90s kids who rented Perfect Blue as a dare and couldn’t emotionally process the traumatic moments that would later inspire some of the most eye-scrubbing scenes in Darren Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream. I was 14 or so. I barely had the stomach to handle the opening of The Sixth Sense.

Since then, Kon’s work has become, for me, so much more than a provocative box at Blockbuster. The director followed Perfect Blue with three films — Millennium Actress, Tokyo Godfathers, and Paprika, along with one TV series, Paranoia Agent — before dying of pancreatic cancer in 2010 at the age of 46.

By college, I had the chance to catch up on the catalog and see Paprika when it arrived in U.S. theaters. And I knew, within minutes, I’d found one of my favorite artists. I cherish that journey, from being a kid who doesn’t know what he’s seeing and being terrified, to being an adult who still doesn’t always know what he’s seeing and finding that affecting.

Kon has become more popular in recent years with semi-regular showings of his films at rep houses and popular theater chains. The popular movie podcast Blank Check recently completed an exhaustive and lovely reassessment, working from Perfect Blue to Paprika. My advice for newcomers? Go in reverse order. Paprika has inspired — to say the least — Christopher Nolan, particularly his mind-bending thriller Inception. From there, you can enjoy the criminally underappreciated Christmas film Tokyo Godfathers, then learn the history of Japanese cinema through Millennium Actress, and then, when you’re ready for it, Perfect Blue will be waiting.

This disc, presented in a stunning 4K transfer, includes interviews with many of Kon’s collaborators.

Arnold always had it.

In 1982’s Conan the Barbarian (released two years before the first Terminator film), the champion bodybuilder turned actor looks like he left the Gold’s Gym weight room and strolled onto set, yet he delivers a fearless performance that should be the envy of Juilliard grads. Don’t believe me? Focus on what Schwarzenegger does with his face. Though every other part of his body has been cut from a single slab of marble, his mouth and eyes twist and widen in ways that call to mind great silent film performances.

This new 4K release from Arrow is a shrine to these early days of Arnold, which would pour the foundation for the following decades of his R-rated popcorn masterpieces. The set includes an archival commentary with the man himself, along with a new commentary by Paul M. Sammon, the author of Conan: The Phenomenon. A second disc includes a king’s bounty of documentaries, interviews, and on-set footage that provides juicy info on every aspect of the film, from its look to the killer score.

Conan the Barbarian hasn’t had the lasting power of other Schwarzenegger classics, but that comes with its silver lining: The odds are high you haven’t seen this delightful epic full of elaborate sets and practical effects.

Saul Bass is known as one of the great creators of opening credits: Psycho, Vertigo, The Man with the Golden Arm, Seconds. Even if you haven’t seen those films, you’ve seen the work of Bass’ admirers. His work is still being parodied and pastiched by the likes of Steven Spielberg and Matthew Weiner, who borrowed liberally from Bass with the iconic opening credits of Mad Men.

Bass, however, is not known as a film director. He directed one feature film and it bombed so hard it got the Mystery Science Theater 3000 treatment. What a shame. Phase IV is an ambitious and fearless sci-fi film that deserves reappraisal. This 4K restoration may be its best shot.

You’ll understand why this film benefits from a proper visual upgrade from the blurry depths of the home video bin. Bass spends an exceptional amount of the film’s run time with actual ants, shooting them with microlenses so that they look (and even behave) like characters. He doesn’t give them cheeky voice-over; he just lets our minds wonder what might be going through their heads.

Like I assume an actual global ant takeover would work, the movie stars very slow and small, the camera leisurely following a couple of ants through their daily activities. But in time, their efforts gain momentum, and suddenly ants are bringing down buildings and converting poisonous sludge into antlike weaponry.

Bass took this project seriously, and Vinegar Syndrome has mirrored that approach with the three-disc set, including a Blu-ray disc featuring a reconstruction of an early version of the film, plus the original ending that really must be seen to be believed. We’re talking ending of 2001: A Space Odyssey stuff. With ants!

If you like horror, you’re familiar with The Ring, either in its original form from Hideo Nakata or its American adaptation by Gore Verbinski. It’s less likely you have seen its follow-up, Dark Water, in which Nakata once again adapts the work of author Koji Suzuki to terrifying effect.

The Ring’s central premise of a deadly videotape and ticking clock toward death is unforgettable. But for me, Dark Water is a stronger drama, one that spends equal time on scares as it does spelunking the interior lives of its single mother and child. As to be expected from an Arrow release, the package includes a grab bag of interviews, trailers, and even a short documentary on the making of the film.

Despite being a big-budget, Oscar-nominated sci-fi spectacle made by James Cameron, The Abyss has been unavailable (in high-quality formats) for decades. If you lived in New York or LA, you could pray for a repertory screening; otherwise, your best bet was making do with a 20-year-old DVD.

Alongside 4K releases of Aliens and True Lies, James Cameron’s original sci-fi masterpiece finally gets the home video treatment. The final product is incredible — as if everyone involved in this release wondered, in the back of their heads, if it would be another 20 years before The Abyss gets some TLC.

The picture and the sound make the most of the 4K HDR disc, whether it’s a glowing alien spacecraft or the close-up of an exceedingly handsome Ed Harris shouting technical jargon about watercraft. Sure, the computer-animated special effects have aged since 1989, but they still fit comfortably within the film. Credit the art direction, along with what I have to imagine was a great deal of technical attention in the film’s long restoration process.

The set includes nearly two hours of additional documentaries and interviews. It’s nice gravy. But frankly, we’ve been waiting so long for the mashed potatoes that I would have been fine with them scooped right on my plate, simple and delicious.

Released in 1939, only six years after the end of Prohibition, The Roaring Twenties was made by people who could remember that era — who lived it. For director Raoul Walsh, the Roaring ’20s were the years he cut his teeth as a director in Hollywood, putting out 14 films in 10 years. Considering the state of Los Angeles at that time, it’s safe to assume he was familiar with the world of bootleg liquor.

Perhaps that’s why Walsh imbues his criminals with such humanity, rather than treating them like the petty parodies with which so many other gangster movies indulge. That the cast is a murderers’ row of Golden Age talent, including James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart, and Priscilla Lane, certainly helps give each character a spark of life, too.

Why, though, is this movie on this list versus countless other old movies? Because it moves like a modern film. Spanning a decade in under two hours, the movie hurls forward like a Model T with nitrous boosters.

For some film history context, the disc includes a commentary with historian Lincoln Hurts and an interview with critic Gary Giddins, along with a handful of additional bonus features to sweeten the pot.

Radiance has become the Criterion Collection for movies I’ve never heard of. When a new disc arrives, it will most likely be a surprising delight, and at minimum, something that gets me thinking about what movies can and should be. This year, I can already recommend Goodbye & Amen (an Italian spy thriller), Allonsanfan (a stately drama with a not-to-be-missed Ennio Morricone score), and as you’ve seen above, Black Tight Killers.

Forget story. With Black Tight Killers, you only need to know the ingredients. A gang of female assassins who wield deadly vinyl records. A bundle of lost World War II gold. A 1960s pop score that would make Austin Powers grin. You can feel director Yasuharu Hasebe having a blast with this film; the joy is contagious.

Radiance includes an archival interview with the director and a commentary track featuring critic Jasper Sharp, and while I’m grateful for the inclusions, the star of the show is the film itself: a quirky delight that speaks for itself with cool suits, audacious colors, and action sequences involving everything from a helicopter to an improvised flamethrower.

We aren’t wanting for ways to buy Universal’s collection of classic monster movies. Over a decade ago, the studio released one of my favorite box sets, which not only introduced me to many lesser-seen films (The Invisible Man, Phantom of the Opera) but also the Spanish-language version of Dracula — a disc I still dig out every Halloween. And only two years ago, Universal upgraded much of that set to 4K.

But reader, if you want a set so pretty that you can display it in your living room, there’s only one choice: the new limited-edition coffee table book collection. It technically is a book, the discs resting in sleeves between pages full of classic photos, posters, and original art. But the cover looks more like a poster, ready to be framed.

The set includes tons of special features for every film, from Frankenstein to Creature from the Black Lagoon. One caveat: This set is limited to 4K. If you’re a hardcore collector, this set rules and you’ve probably already made the purchase. If you’re new to these exceptional horror standards, the other box sets are just as worthy as entry points.