Best of the City: The 13 best things Time Out L.A. editors saw, ate and visited in 2024

Let me pause first so that you can burn through all of your jokes about the Clippers. Alright, we good now? Because the NBA team’s new Inglewood arena just might be the one thing the Lakers will never be able to beat. Its bowl-like interior feels far closer to the action than your average arena, and it comes with some seriously impressive perks that you only get with a billionaire owner who wanted to spare no expense—including USB charging outlets at each seat and a wraparound, double-sided scoreboard that can launch T-shirts.

Not every aspect of Intuit Dome’s arrival has been stellar: Its emphasis on tech (you enter the arena and pay for concessions with your face) caused backups on opening night (they were resolved by the next day), and the addition of yet another major venue to the traffic-clogged entertainment area has so far been a burden for local business owners. But we have to applaud the dome for offering some free transit alternatives, as well as for its dazzling public art program.

In a city full of big events, Framework definitely hosts the coolest. The self-described dance music event producers’ reputation for organizing amazing experiences has been steadily growing since launching the Yuma Tent at Coachella in 2013 as well as Hollywood’s rave staple Sound Nightclub (plus their newest venue, the Spotlight). But Framework’s most significant impact on L.A. in 2024 was bringing pretty much every single one of the world’s biggest (and trendiest) DJs to town for their own headlining shows, including Keinemusik, Solomun, ANOTR and Dom Dolla.

Framework is at the forefront of bringing the sorts of experiential shows that are commonplace in Europe and South America to this country’s maturing dance music scene. Rather than sticking to clubs or warehouses, they’ve attracted unique DJ collabs in order to transform sprawling spots like Exposition Park and L.A. State Historic Park—plus a Hollywood street and an abandoned Sears—into a festival-like setting that allows DJs to play extended three-to-six-hour sets.

Some of the best museum exhibits that I saw this year transported me (the Broad’s excellent Mickalene Thomas retrospective) or surprised me (the Petersen’s seriously impressive lowrider show), but only one left me convinced that we live in a world full of everyday optical miracles. This spectacular exhibition from Icelandic–Danish artist Olafur Eliasson turns MOCA’s Little Tokyo location into a playground of analog contraptions that untangle light’s most visually appealing properties.

Eliasson’s colorful kaleidoscopes are created from almost shockingly lo-fi means while the towering, mirror-lined stacks in the central gallery turn the warehouse space into a lens for the outside world. (Translation: They make some really, really pretty, infinite mini worlds.) This isn’t some sort of vain Insta museum, though; the sculptures here are sublime, and with a run that extends through the first half of 2025, “OPEN” just might be one of the most sensational shows you’ll see next year too.

Need any more proof that the “Los Angeles” part of the Angels’ name is kind of a joke? Japanese baseball phenom Shohei Ohtani spent six seasons just down the 5 in Anaheim, but he might as well have been on another planet to Angelenos. But once the then-two, now-three-time MVP winner inked a decade-long deal with the Dodgers, the fandom was immediately contagious. Before Ohtani even stepped up to the plate at Chavez Ravine, you could find him on this six-story mural in Little Tokyo. Robert Vargas’s painting on the side of the Miyako Hotel, which depicts Ohtani both pitching and batting, stands as a building-sized testament to just how profoundly L.A. sports fans have been swept up in Ohtani-mania. The mural has also almost singlehandedly turned the flagging neighborhood into a Dodger destination—and rescued its out-of-town tourism numbers.

You might not have noticed David Zwirner’s first entry onto Western Avenue: a pair of nondescript—aside from their buzzy opening night lines—storefronts that debuted last year in East Hollywood. But it’s hard to miss this new flagship neighbor, a white, blocky three-story building with its own billboard out front. A figure in the global gallery scene for three decades, Zwirner’s entry into L.A. was one of those big deal events for folks on the business side of the art world. But more importantly, it’s a big deal for Angelenos looking for standout art shows—and ones for free, no less. Like Hauser & Wirth’s arrival in the Arts District almost a decade ago, this is a museum-caliber space in an “it” neighborhood stocked with museum-caliber names, with Yayoi Kusama, Richard Serra and Josef Albers among the artists in the packed debut show.

Next to a handful of earthquakes and a Seattle-like wet winter, nothing brought Angelenos together this year quite like the Dodgers. After a celebration-less World Series victory in 2020, this year’s title spawned a championship parade 36 years in the making. The estimates vary, but around a quarter-million fans descended on Downtown L.A. on November 1. The numbers don’t really matter, though: It felt as if all of L.A. was there decked out in blue, all to see a double-decker bus procession with the trophy-toting team—including Shohei Ohtani’s dog, Decoy, and L.A.’s new favorite folk hero, Freddie Freeman. In a city that often feels short on civic pride, this was the one day it felt like we were all on the same team.

Clifton’s is anything but new—the Depression-era cafeteria first opened in the 1930s—but after many closures, reopenings and reimaginings, it once again opened its doors this fall to local fanfare. Owner Andrew Meieran has managed to both honor Clifton’s past and bring it into the present. His additions—including the giant faux redwood that stretches three stories tall and tiki bar Pacific Seas, which you access through a secret door—keep the spirit of the original Clifton’s alive.

New this time around: Food is on offer for the first time since 2018—including hand-rolled flautas served in a cigar box and “stained glass Jell-O,” a nod to the classic cafeteria treat—and a projection system helps bring the unique design elements to life. Expect creative cocktails and eclectic programming (think live music, burlesque, aerial performers and a futuristic Metropolis-themed New Year’s Eve party). And Clifton’s is promising even more in 2025: all-ages brunches in the cafeteria space, as well as an underground speakeasy, Shadowbox, which has never before been open to the public. The one-of-a-kind space is proving a welcome reentry into the Downtown landscape.

My first visit to “Luna Luna” came just a few days before the 2023 edition of these awards was published, and about two weeks before its mid-December public opening. But I’m glad that the resurrected art carnival—which took over a soundstage in Boyle Heights through the first half of 2024—missed the cutoff for last year’s awards, because this has given me an excuse to reminisce about the most magical experience to hit L.A. in ages.

Frankly, I haven’t stopped thinking about “Luna Luna.” A forgotten festival staged in Germany in 1987 that responded to postwar trauma with childlike wonder, it was consigned to storage for decades and then revived in L.A. last year, with carnival attractions adorned with art from the likes of Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Salvador Dalí and more than a dozen others. Though you couldn’t actually step foot on any of the rides here, lights would flicker on, music play and motors whir to conjure a dreamy atmosphere unlike any other museum-like presentation I’ve ever set foot in. (As you might expect, I’m very jealous of the New Yorkers who can currently see “Luna Luna” as it finally embarks on its decades-in-the-making world tour.)

This year’s Netflix is a Joke Fest staged more than 500 comedy shows over two weeks in L.A. But its most memorable one was something we all could enjoy from our own couches. John Mulaney kicked off his six-episode run of a live, late-night-style talk show by saying that L.A. is “the city that confuses and fascinates me.” And surely most Angelenos would even agree with that too. Neither the glittery dreamland of reality TV nor the chaos of crime procedurals (or, uh, a Jamie Kennedy New Year’s Eve special), the actual L.A. is more akin to a beautiful mess, and Mulaney and his writers absolutely nailed that humdrum disarray and delight.

This was a talk show that started with a (slightly mixed-up) map lesson, threw to an on-location segment about a cement mixer, featured a food delivery robot named Saymo and hosted call-in segments that covered coyotes and earthquakes and asked each person what kind of car they drive (or, in the case of Hannah Gadsby, grilled call-in guest Mayor Karen Bass about the city’s civic shortcomings).

I spent a lot of time watching the Olympics this year—and simultaneously worrying about how L.A.’s turn at hosting the Games in 2028 couldn’t possibly compare to romantic venue backdrops like the Eiffel Tower, Versailles or the Grand Palais. But that envy shifted to pride during the closing ceremony’s handoff from Paris to Los Angeles, as—through a mix of actual stunts, geography-condensing editing and VFX—Tom Cruise skydived the Olympic flag onto the Hollywood Sign before it was whisked off to “Venice Beach” (really Rosie’s Dog Beach in Long Beach) and put in the care of average, everyday Angelenos like Billie Eilish, Snoop Dogg and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

In actuality, the flag touched down at LAX the next afternoon, and though lighter on A-listers—but filled with medal-wearing athletes—that event was arguably more momentous: It signaled that seven years after first clinching the bid, the start of L.A.’s Olympic cycle had finally arrived. And yes, L.A. still has plenty of problems (nope, traffic won’t really be an issue) to solve or ignore over the next less-than-four years, but the world’s eyes will soon be on us soon, and boy are we ready for our close-up.