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tediousoscars · 1 year

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2022

Predict-o-meter: This year: 12/13; Total: 141/163 (87%)

Overall this year’s class of Best Picture nominees is on the weak side. There are more movies that I definitely did not want to see than there are films I was dying to see. But that is largely irrelevant because 2022 will be forever remembered as (heavy foreshadowing) the year that “Everything Everywhere All at Once” came out, and nothing else matters.

- THE CONTENDERS -

The Banshees of Inisherin. The year is 1923, and on the fictional island of Inisherin - just off the Irish coast - explosions from the Irish Civil War are clearly audible across the strait and you can set your watch by BFFs Pádraic (Colin Farrell in a nominated role) and Colm (Brendan Gleeson, also nominated) arriving at the pub for a pint at the same time every afternoon. Pádraic is a quintessential “nice guy” who is quite content with the languid pace and mundane concerns of life on the remote rural island. Colm, by contrast, is a frustrated fiddler and composer who fancies himself a bit of an intellectual and finds Pádraic pedestrian and dull. So one day Colm decides he doesn’t want to be friends anymore, but rather than communicate this in any comprehensible fashion he merely starts ignoring Pádraic who, for his part, obstinately refuses to take the hint and harries Colm like a faithful pet doggedly attempting to return a stick that his master has tired of throwing. Colm’s response - which I won’t spoil for you - is more shockingly unbelievable than any flashy CGI extravaganza in a film with a much larger budget. Colm and Pádraic’s conflict - two men who are like brothers devolving into a struggle of awful and self-destructive violence - can be seen as a metaphor for the civil war taking place across the water. In parallel with this narrative is one in which Dominic, essentially this village’s idiot, falls into hopeless unrequited love with Padraic’s sister Siobhán (Kerry Condon in a nominated role), seemingly the only inhabitant of Inisherin with any ambitions to leave the island. The over-arching narrative of the film is that these three men, Pádraic, Colm, and Dominic, all make conscious decisions to actively destroy their own lives rather than frankly and honestly dealing with their feelings. And while this deconstruction of toxic masculinity may sound preachy, tedious, and dark, nothing could be further from the truth. The ultimate destination may be bleak, but the ride to get there is full of charm and a surprising amount of humor. I found the ending unsettling; none of the principals improves themselves over the course of the film, but Pádraic’s descent from a simple, content, nice guy to a dark and vindictive prick is particularly difficult to watch. But the acting is superb, the world feels authentic and fully realized, and the deceptively simple plot delivers some surprising twists, all of which combine to create a film that is thoroughly entertaining if not particularly uplifting.

Elvis. As a historical record or even a biopic “Elvis” falls flat. Musical purists will sniff at the anachronistic sounds added to the Elvis remixes used whenever the King is seen performing on stage, and history buffs may take umbrage to the exclusion of several less appealing episodes from Elvis’ life. But as a work of visual filmmaking it soars. Director Baz Lurhmann has a lush visual style that is both kinetic and garish, which works well with a larger-than-life persona like Elvis. Lurhmann serves up a smorgasbord of visual treats that is simply fun to watch. On the acting front it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Austin Butler shines as the titular star - more channeling Elvis than mimicking him - garnering a Best Actor nomination in the process. But Tom Hanks labors under heavy prosthetics and a bizarre, unidentifiable accent as savior cum nemesis Col. Tom Parker - a semi-villainous role for which the always affable Hanks is ill-suited. The most problematic aspect of the film is its treatment of Elvis’ relationship to Black music and artists. This is truly a missed opportunity since what initially attracts Hanks’ Colonel to Elvis is the fact that he is a white boy who plays Black music. The film portrays Elvis as an emissary magnanimously delivering Black music to a white audience. The truth is obviously a bit more complicated than that, and exploring these waters more fully would have added a depth to the film that it currently lacks. The end result is a film that is very enjoyable to watch casually, but one that does not stand up to prolonged scrutiny. So go ahead and watch it; just don’t think about it too hard.

Everything Everywhere All at Once. If you’re interested in the concept of the multiverse, but are not really into super heroes, boy have I got a movie for you! Against all odds “Everything Everywhere All at Once” actually manages to live up to its name. It is everything: It is a story of immigrants struggling to find their way in their adopted country. It is a story of generational strife as a mother struggles to avoid making the same mistakes with her daughter that her father made with her. It is a story of the beginning of a new queer romance, and the tortured demise of an old straight one. It is an eye-popping spectacle. It is a martial arts film in which pacifism rules the day. It is a roadmap and homage to every movie the directors ever enjoyed (often through simple manipulation of the aspect ratio) - especially “The Matrix.” It is an ode to couture rivaling anything the runway at Fashion Week has to offer. It is a fast-paced puzzle and a quiet meditation. Family, business, interpersonal relationships, the meaning of life, ambition, and failure: “Everything Everywhere All at Once” has something thoughtful and relevant to say about all of them. And, perhaps most importantly, it offers a definitive response to the age-old question: What if you really put literally everything on a bagel? It is everywhere: Every possibility exists in the multiverse and can be accessed from anywhere. There’s a version of you out there somewhere who is an opera singer, a kung-fu artist, a movie star, a sign spinner, a reptilian monster, and a rock. And you can access their thoughts, feelings, and abilities no matter where you are, making you essentially omnipotent. All of which leads to the over-arching question: If all of your choices are equally valid and, in fact, exist simultaneously in parallel, what is the point of any of it? It is all at once: The conflict plays out across multiple realities simultaneously, which could be confusing for the viewer, but fortunately our heroes Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh in a nominated role) and her husband Waymond (played by the kid from “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” (also nominated)) are just as confused as the audience and drag us along from confusion to comprehension. Despite the frenetic pace and visual extravaganza “Everything Everywhere All at Once” has at its core a heartfelt and very human message: The most important choice we make is who we choose to spend our time with. You should really stop reading about “Everything Everywhere All at Once” and just go watch it already. You will never look at hot dogs or butt plugs the same way again.

The Fabelmans. This thinly-veiled autobiography is part Spielberg origin myth and part love letter to the power of filmmaking. Young Stev … sorry, Sammy Fabelman is a terminally anxious kid who is afraid to go to the movies because they take place in the dark. When his parents practically drag him in to see Cecil B. DeMille’s “The Greatest Show on Earth” young Sammy is transfixed by the climactic train crash and obsessively recreates it with his toy train set at home. His practical engineer father worries that the expensive toy will be damaged, so his artistic mother proposes that he crash the toy once, but film it with the family’s movie camera so that he can watch it over and over. Instead young Sammy storyboards, films, and edits a complete narrative sequence recreating the crash he’d seen in the film, making him realize that he can achieve the control and understanding through film that he lacks in everyday life. What follows is an idealized version - a fable, if you will - of young Fabelman growing up in the 50s and 60s with just enough drama and conflict to drive the plot, but not so much that anyone might actually get hurt. In his teen years Sammy becomes a bona fide filmmaker enlisting his classmates in ever more grandiose productions full of incredibly inventive practical effects. When his mother becomes depressed his father asks him to take the footage he shot on a recent family camping trip and put together a reel to cheer her up. In the process Sammy discovers something that was not particularly noticeable at the time, but virtually leaps off the screen as he views the footage: His mother only appears to be truly happy when she is off in a corner alone with “Uncle” Benny, his father’s friend and business partner. He makes the happy camper roll for his father, but he also makes another roll of nothing but shots of his mother and Benny. His mother, Mitzi (Michelle Williams in a nominated role), is confused by Sammy’s suddenly aloof behavior. Sammy cannot bring himself to confront his mother, so he does what any good filmmaker would do: He shows her his film. This leads to an astonishing sequence in which Mitzi sits alone in a dark closet watching a film roll that basically shows that she is in love with Benny and her son knows it. The camera stays on Williams in closeup; we don’t see the film she’s watching, just her reaction to it. From confusion tinged with delight, through shock to horror and shame Michelle Williams secured her nomination in this single scene. Just a breathtaking piece of wordless acting. Slightly less believable is a sequence in which Sammy disarms a high-school bully by showing him in a glowing, flattering light in a film roll he puts together for a school event, but even here the message is clear: Film has the power to convey emotional meaning in a way other media cannot. In lesser hands this film could have devolved into maudlin, nostalgic sentimentality, but this is Spielberg, so the result is a thoroughly enjoyable, if somewhat sanitized, trip down memory lane and a heartfelt tribute to the art of filmmaking.

Women Talking. Loosely based on actual events, “Women Talking” tells the story of an insular, cult-like colony of Mennonites in which several of the men habitually roofie women in the colony with cow tranquilizer, rape them, then gaslight them into thinking that the resultant pregnancies and sexually-transmitted diseases are the result of demonic activity. The women learn the truth when one of the assailants is caught in the act, and while the men trundle off to town to bail the rapist out of jail, the women meet to decide their fate and the fate of the colony itself. Three options are considered in an impromptu ballot: Do nothing, stay and fight, or leave. When stay and fight and leave receive an equal number of votes the women of three prominent families (all of which have been victims of male depredations) are tasked with debating the issue and deciding on a course of action. Since the women of the colony are kept illiterate and uneducated, a man is enlisted to keep the minutes of their meeting. August is something of a prodigal son, who left the colony and received a University education when his mother was excommunicated from the colony for radical ideas (like women are people), and has since returned to become teacher to the boys. That’s the background, but, as the title suggests, the bulk of the film focuses on the conversations that follow as the women try to sort out what happened to them, how it makes them feel, and what they should do about it. What follows is a truly fascinating and surprisingly wide-ranging discourse in which the thorny issue is examined from every conceivable angle, the full range of human emotion is on display, and the women collectively demonstrate a thoughtfulness and wisdom that belies the subordinate role that has been assigned to them. Though it is “merely” women talking this film is grippingly dramatic, inspiring, and relentlessly thought-provoking. Needless to say that the men of Inisherin could learn a thing or two about working through complex feelings from the women of the colony. Though the screenplay was deservingly nominated, the fact that none of the wonderful performances or the deft direction were nominated is a bit of a head-scratcher. Definitely worth your time.

- THE PRETENDERS -

All Quiet on the Western Front. The war movie is a well-trodden genre that has consistently hammered home a singular message almost since the inception of film (spoiler: war is hell). It can be challenging to present a new take (à la 2019’s “1917”), a challenge that “All Quiet on the Western Front” fails to rise to. There are definitely a couple twists; first and foremost the story is told from a German perspective, and the opening sequence (in which we follow a young terrified soldier across a harrowing battlefield, only to learn that we are actually following his uniform, which is removed from his dead body, laundered and patched, and then handed out to the film’s actual protagonist) provides an interesting, if short-lived, new perspective. But from there on out there is not a lot of new territory explored. Which is not to say that it is a bad movie; it is not. It is a perfectly serviceable war movie that hits all the relevant notes. If you had any doubts that maybe trench warfare wasn’t as bad as all that then “All Quiet on the Western Front” will forcefully disabuse you of that notion. A particularly trenchant comment on the pointlessness of war comes at the film’s conclusion when the armistice has been negotiated and signed, but has yet to go into effect (waiting for the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, which apparently someone found frightfully clever). An overzealous German commandant orders an attack on a French position a mere 15 minutes before the appointed conclusion of hostilities. What follows is some of the most brutal hand-to-hand combat of the entire film, and our protagonist is (naturally) skewered on a bayonet moments before the clock strikes 11:00 denoting the end of hostilities. At this the combatants meekly trudge past each other to their respective bases like Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog after the 5:00 whistle blows in a Looney Toons cartoon. If you are a hardcore fan of war movies then you will not be disappointed by this film. But if, like me, you have seen enough depictions of human life being profligately wasted for little to no tangible gain then you should probably give this one a miss.

Avatar: The Way of Water. This is a thoroughly entertaining movie that hits all of the rhyming notes of a good sequel. Jake Sully, occupying his Na’vi avatar body full time, is now a father with teenaged kids. He is the leader of the resistance fighting the human “sky people,” who are no longer satisfied with plundering Pandora’s natural resources, but wish to fully claim it as a new human homeworld and abandon a dying Earth. His notoriously xenophobic nemesis, Col. Quaritch, returns - despite dying spectacularly in the first movie - in the form of a consciousness permanently downloaded into a Na’vi body (oh the irony!). When Jake’s family is forced to flee and join a seafaring tribe of Na’vi they are compelled to mirror his journey in the first movie from helpless neophyte to full-fledged Na’vi warrior as they learn the strange customs and practices of their new aquatic hosts. The kids tasked with training the Sully clan are even cautioned that they are “like babies,” the same chastisement that Neytiri leveled at Jake when she first rescued him. Similarly, Col. Quaritch also walks in Jakes footsteps from the first film as he seeks to learn the ways of his enemy and quests to tame a flying banshee in the same manner that Jake did. The film is a gorgeous, engaging, and entertaining spectacle, but there are some pretty glaring plot holes. Much is made of the incredible expense involved in bringing Quaritch and his team to Pandora, but when these elite, expensive soldiers start dropping like flies in some initial ill-conceived skirmishes nary a complaint is raised. The purpose of Quaritch’s (very expensive) deployment is nominally to neutralize Sully as the resistance leader. But when Sully flees with his family to a far-off archipelago, effectively removing himself from the battlefield, rather than declaring Mission Accomplished the colonel embarks on a mad, obsessive, destructive quest worthy of Captain Ahab. He and his (very expensive) team chase the Sully family to the ends of Pandora hell bent on destroying him for no discernible reason - especially since this version of Quaritch has a consciousness downloaded before Sully even arrived on Pandora, and so has no memories of the events of the first film! Such concerns do not prevent this movie from being a fun-filled romp of a CGI-driven blockbuster - if you loved the first movie you will likely love this one - but they do prevent it from being a legitimate Best Picture contender.

Tár. From the thirty-thousand-foot level the plot of “Tár” seems very - almost painfully - familiar. A powerful celebrity at the height of their career preys upon young, impressionable ingenues hoping to further their careers via an association with the Great One. The plot twist here, as far as there is one, is that in this case the principal is Lydia Tár, a self-described “U-Haul lesbian.” Tár is a celebrated tour de force conductor at the top of her game, helming the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. Self-assured and cerebral, Lydia’s entire life revolves around classical music to the exclusion of almost all else, leaving the audience to wonder when she finds time to sexually exploit her subordinates. Cate Blanchett’s towering nominated performance as the titular Tár is the axis about which this entire film revolves. The gender-swap of the sexual predator at the center of the story does little to alter the familiar beats of love triangle, deception, hubris, and downfall that the plot trots out with the precision of a world-class conductor. But Blanchett breathes such nuance and complexity into the character of Tár that there was actually some debate online as to whether Lydia Tár was an actual person or a fictional character. There is not much new here from a narrative or filmmaking perspective, but Blanchett’s performance cements her position as the greatest actor of her generation.

Top Gun: Maverick. Seriously?

Triangle of Sadness. If you were tasked with defining the quintessential Palme d’Or winner you couldn’t do better than to choose “Triangle of Sadness.” By turns quirky and off-kilter, challenging and disturbing, “Triangle of Sadness” perfectly captures everything the judges at Cannes look for in a feature film. The film follows Carl and Yaya - an aspiring power couple in the world of high-fashion modeling - through a series of 3 semi-autonomous but interconnected vignettes that are essentially 3 separate films. The first section begins unassumingly enough with Carl and Yaya sharing a nice dinner date. When the bill arrives and Yaya barely looks up from her phone to say, “Thanks for getting it” there ensues an interesting discussion of gender roles and power dynamics that is colored by the fact that in modeling - unlike most of the rest of the world - women actually earn 2-3x more than their male counterparts. This section of the film is fine as far as it goes - an interesting treatise on social and relationship dynamics that is well-executed - but it does little to prepare the viewer for what is to come. The second section is by far the most problematic. As a perk to her role as a social-media influencer Yaya is gifted a luxury cruise on a private yacht. This is not a gargantuan cruise ship with thousands of passengers, but rather a yacht not much bigger than your average oligarch might own with no more than 20 or 30 guests. We see the crew huddled up before the guests arrive being instructed that the only appropriate response to any request from a guest is “Yes, sir” or “Yes, ma’am.” Most of the well-healed guests could most charitably be described as “eccentric,” and we see how their unhinged demands make the “yes, ma’am” policy more difficult to implement than we might have imagined. And we think that is it; a study of class differences indicating that the extremely wealthy are so out of touch that they might as well be from a different planet. But then a nasty storm hits and the luxury seafood dinner the guests enjoyed is suddenly not sitting so well. There are, apparently, people who find bodily fluids spewing and spraying from every conceivable orifice uproariously funny. Evidence suggests that (nominated) director Ruben Östlund is one of those people. I, however, am not, and I found large swaths of this section of the film basically unwatchable. And just when you think that things can not get any worse, when the decks are literally awash with filth and sewage, the pirates attack. And sink the ship. Segue to the third, final, and best section of the film, which finds Carl, Yaya, and a few of their hapless compatriots (guests, crew, and a pirate) shipwrecked on a deserted island, facing a serious survival situation. Again the focus is on social class structures and the nature of power. But in this instance we are treated to a delicious inversion when it turns out that crewmember Abigail - who was in charge of toilets onboard the ship - is the only one present who knows how to catch fish and start a fire, skills which, she asserts, means she’s in charge. A situation she actualizes by distributing food only to those who swear fealty to her (which they all do). In a delightful case of power corrupting, Abigail, recently a lowly domestic worker, uses her new-found position to secure the *ahem* “services” of Carl, who is a male model, lest we forget. Things come to a head when Yaya discovers they are not on a deserted island at all, but are in fact just a few miles down the beach from a luxury resort, leaving Abigail to ponder a return to her previous position in the social hierarchy. The film is well-crafted and acted and presents a study of class dynamics from some interesting perspectives. But the execution is a little uneven and if I never see another person projectile vomit on screen again it will be too soon.

So which will win?

This appears to be a rare instance when the Academy and I are in complete agreement. “Everything Everywhere All at Once” looks poised to win in a landslide, and I couldn’t agree more. I first watched it months ago when it came out, so I went back to rewatch it after watching the rest of the nominees and my suspicions were confirmed: It stands head and shoulders above the rest of the pack

And in the other categories …

Best Director: Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (billed simply as “Daniels”) for (wait for it) “Everything Everywhere All at Once.”

Best Actress: This is a tight race with Michelle Yeoh (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) in a virtual dead heat with Cate Blanchett (“Tár”). Both performances are wonderful. Personally I’m inclined to give the edge to Blanchett; Yeoh had lots of help in “Everything,” but Blanchett had to lift “Tár” onto her back and carry it solo. However, I think the Academy will be unable to resist bestowing the first Best Actress award ever to an Asian actress, so I’m going with Yeoh.

Best Actor: Austin Butler (“Elvis”) has an outside chance here, but the smart money is on Brendan Fraser for “The Whale.”

Best Supporting Actress: This is a tight three-way race between Angela Bassett (“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”), Jamie Lee Curtis (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”), and Kerry Condon (“The Banshees of Inisherin”). Jamie Lee Curtis threw herself into that role mind, body, and soul, but “Everything” is destined to be an Oscar-gobbling juggernaut, so I’m looking for Bassett to sneak in here. But honestly it’s a toss-up.

Best Supporting Actor: Short Round wins an Oscar as Ke Huy Quan takes home the statue for “Everything Everywhere All at Once.”

Best Original Screenplay: A two-way race between “Everything Everywhere All at Once” and “The Banshees of Inisherin,” and it’s hard to imagine two more dissimilar screenplays. Both excellent, but in almost completely opposite ways. I’m going with “Everything.”

Best Adapted Screenplay: “Women Talking” should win here, but “All Quiet on the Western Front” has an outside shot.

Best Animated Feature: “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio.”

Best International Feature: “All Quiet on the Western Front” in a landslide.

Best Documentary Feature: “Navalny” should win, though “Fire of Love” is a dark horse contender.

Best Visual Effects: “Avatar: The Way of Water.”

Best Film Editing: “Everything Everywhere All at Once.”

That’s it for this year! Let’s hope there’s no violence on stage tonight!

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tediousoscars · 2 years

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2021

Predict-o-meter: This year: 12/13; Total: 129/150 (86%)

Welcome to the Second Annual “The Pandemic is Almost Over!” edition of my Oscar reviews and predictions!

We are back to a full class of ten films, but I’m not really sure why. Overall the class is pretty average, with no terrible clinkers on one end, but no soaring masterpieces on the other.

Still, there’s a lot to talk about, so let’s jump right in!

- The Contenders -

CODA. At first glance Ruby Rossi appears to be a typical teenager in the hardscrabble, working-class town of Gloucester, MA. But Ruby is a CODA; Child of Deaf Adults. Both of her parents and her older brother are all deaf, so Ruby has grown up as the de facto interpreter for her family, providing a bridge to the hearing world. In the mornings Ruby (played by Emilia Jones in a sparkling debut) helps her father Frank (Troy Kotsur in a nominated role) and Leo (Daniel Durant) on the family fishing boat and has taken to singing with the unabashed gusto of someone who knows that no one can hear her as she completes her chores. Turns out the girl has some pipes. At school she impulsively signs up for choir, mostly because her cute-boy crush does, and is taken under the wing of the school’s stereotypically flamboyant choir director. The film definitely plays with some clichéd tropes, but never falls into saccharine predictability, due in large part to some deft depictions of the family striving to find a way to appreciate and support Ruby despite not being able to hear her sing. At a school concert, as Ruby sings, the sound cuts out and we are placed in the perspective of her deaf family. They look around at the other members of the audience, and while they can’t hear Ruby they can see the emotional impact she is having on the faces of their neighbors. Afterwards her father asks her to sing the song again as he feels her throat to pick up the vibrations in an incredibly touching scene. As Ruby begins to hone her latent musical talent and prepares to audition for admission into the Berklee College of Music she is inexorably drawn away from her family. Her absence from the boat one morning leads to disaster when the Coast Guard hails them, but, of course, Frank and Leo can’t hear. This leads to some internal strife in the family as they consider whether Ruby should stay and help the family or go off to pursue her dreams in Boston. This conflict is handled with great emotional intelligence and poignance; things do get heated, but all sides are considered and the discussion firmly rests on a foundation of familial love. Her brother Leo fully supports her ambitions, exhorting her to escape the dead-end job in a backwater town that he cannot. Her parents struggle to understand, but you get the impression that this is driven more by classic parental fear of their baby leaving the nest rather than distain for her choice of career. There are some great scenes between Ruby and her mother Jackie (played by Marlee Matlin) that will be recognizable to any girl who has a mother. In the climactic scene her family accompanies Ruby to her Berklee audition, but are told they cannot enter the auditorium. Ruby begins, alone, timid, and afraid; her voice thin and weak. Her mentor intentionally flubs his piano accompaniment to give her an excuse to start again, and in the meantime her family has snuck up into the balcony. Seeing them there, supporting her even though they don’t really understand what she’s doing, gives her the confidence to sing with full voice. Midway through the performance she begins to passionately sign the lyrics to her family as she sings, and it is not until then, when she combines her hearing self with her deaf family, that she truly soars and realizes that there was never a choice between the hearing and deaf worlds; her only path forward is to combine both. At turns funny and thought-provoking, but always tender, this film takes the coming-of-age story in a brilliant new direction.

Don’t Look Up. Part entertainment, part mirror on society, and part therapy session, “Don’t Look Up” seems destined to become an era-defining film that is perfect for this moment. When scientists discover a planet-killing comet on a collision course with Earth they rush to the White House to alert the President only to be greeted with disinterested discussions of timing and poll numbers. And when it is discovered that there are valuable minerals in the comet and the scientists lose favor with the public for not being perfect, prefab celebrities, a Comet Denier faction quickly forms claiming that the comet is a hoax and even if it’s not what’s so bad about comets anyway? The comet’s inexorable journey gets to the point where it is clearly visible in the night - and eventually the day - sky, leading to an obvious solution from the deniers: don’t look up; a slogan that is chanted at rallies and worn on tee shirts. Originally conceived as commentary on global warming and climate denialism, “Don’t Look Up” actually perfectly captures life during COVID where obvious scientific facts open unbridgeable fault lines in the fabric of society. But this is not just some National-Lampoon-style satiric romp. With a cast that reads like a Who’s Who of Hollywood’s A List (Leo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Cate Blanchett, Mark Rylance, Jonah Hill, Timothée Chalamet, Ron Perlman, Ariana Grande … oh, and Meryl Streep) and a nominated Original Screenplay, “Don’t Look Up” represents filmmaking at its best; at once au courant and timeless. You should really watch this film immediately, but be warned: The question that you will go over again and again in your head is: ‘Why would he charge us for free snacks?’

Drive My Car. This film almost defies review. If you were to casually walk through a room where this movie was playing you probably wouldn’t think much of it. Both the camerawork and the acting are minimalist and understated, the action is slow and deliberate. But if you were to sit and pay attention for a few minutes you would be inexorably drawn into a surprisingly complex examination of the nature of human relationships, the possibility of true connection, and the relationship between art and life. There’s a lot going on in this movie, it’s just that most of it is going on inside the characters’ heads. Yûsuke Kafuku is a stage actor and director who is in a very passionate - both physically and artistically - relationship with his wife Oto, a television screenwriter. The couple were wracked by the loss of a young daughter, but have just reached a place where they can begin to discuss having another child when Oto dies unexpectedly. Yûsuke seeks refuge in his art and accepts a residency in Hiroshima to produce a version of Chekhov’s “Uncle Vanya” using his unusual method of casting international actors and having each perform in their native language. As he makes the long drive to Hiroshima the credits roll, signifying that his life with Oto has come to an end. Yûsuke asks to be put up and hour’s drive from the venue so that he may continue his routine of studying the play as he drives using cassette tapes of dialog prepared for him by his now-deceased wife. Against his wishes he is assigned a driver: Tôko Miura, a sullen and withdrawn 20-something girl. Yûsuke intentionally miscasts Kôshi Takatsuki, a troubled and impetuous young television actor who had worked with (and slept with) his wife, in the lead role of the sad and angry 47yo Uncle Vanya. It is these relationships, between Yûsuke and Oto, Kôshi, and Tôko that form the backbone of the film more than the plot or action. All of these relationships are intricate, delicate, and confusing, and each is explored in great detail, but gradually. Each relationship is a trail of bread crumbs leading off into a deep psychological forest, but each breadcrumb - a verbal exchange, a shared glance, even a meaningful silence - is a surprising revelation that makes you want to rush to the next one. But director Ryûsuke Hamaguchi (nominated) is too smart for that; he is deliberate with his revelations, but the pacing is perfect so that you never lose interest. On top of all of this is a rare and extensive view of Yûsuke’s creative process, from his obsessive study of the text through the audio tapes, to the disorienting multilingual auditions, to the exhaustive rehearsals. The actors’ struggles to connect through language barriers mirrors Yûsuke’s struggle to connect with other people after suffering the loss of his child and wife. Yusuke’s interest in Kôshi is merely an extension of his relationship with Oto; he is trying to learn something new about his wife by understanding her paramour. But his relationship with Tôko is much more organic, and ultimately deeper. Almost imperceptibly the two of them come to realize that they each are harboring immense sadness driven by incomprehensible loss. That this relationship is given the time and space to grow in a powerful yet believable and honest way is a testament to Hamaguchi’s skill as a director. The subtitles and languid, unassuming style mean that this film will not be to everyone’s taste, but if you take the time to really sit with it you will be rewarded by a hidden gem.

King Richard. This is the amazing true story of Richard Williams (Will Smith in a nominated role), an ambitious and hustling Black man who formulates a plan to turn his children into tennis stars before they are even born precisely because tennis is a bastion of white privilege. His daughters, Venus and Serena (of whom you may have heard) have fully embraced this vision and happily commit to their father’s plan, despite seeming not to have much choice in the matter. What follows is a series of obstacles and hurdles, from belligerent gangsters in the neighborhood to disdainful coaches to a well-heeled Establishment, that Richard stares down with almost inhuman persistence and no small amount of hubris. Richard’s focus on The Plan and his drive to attain it causes him to push his daughters so hard that a concerned neighbor reports him to Child Protective Services. But the results speak for themselves and Richard manages to sweet-talk a couple major, established coaches to train his daughters pro bono, and then relentlessly questions their instructions. This all comes to a head when Richard decides to pull Venus, who is just starting to get noticed, from the junior tournament circuit, the crucible in which all future tennis stars are forged. When it comes to his daughters Richard relies on absolute edicts, rather than explanations, and so the white tennis insiders see nothing but ignorant obstinance and miss Richard’s true motivation: a deep and abiding concern for his daughters. He knows that they will essentially be the Jackie Robinson of women’s tennis, and he’s aware of the glaring scrutiny that will come with that. Can you imagine Jackie Robinson joining the Dodgers as a teenager? The first half of the film centers on Richard acting as a windbreak shielding his girls and a bulldozer forcing his way into tennis circles where no one thinks he belongs. But it is in the second half of the film, where Venus and Serena start to become confident, capable young women able to think and speak for themselves, that the film really takes off and soars. Both Saniyya Sidney as Venus and Demi Singleton as Serena have affable, natural acting styles that make their turns as dutiful yet rambunctious teens utterly believable. This film hits all of the feel-good notes of a sports underdog story, and manages to throw in some insightful social commentary without being heavy-handed about it. Definitely an enjoyable ride.

West Side Story: The first question that likely springs to mind when considering Spielberg’s new film adaptation of the musical “West Side Story” is probably ‘Why?’ The 1961 adaptation is an Oscar-winning beloved classic deemed ‘culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant’ by the Library of Congress, and it’s not like this new adaptation is some sort of update or modernization: it’s still set in 1950s Manhattan, and is meticulously devoted to Bernstein’s famous score. Even the style of the choreography is an homage to the 1961 film. They were a bit more inventive with the screenplay, however. First, the neighborhood that the Sharks and Jets fight over is in the process of being demolished to make way for the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, an historically-accurate nugget: a largely Puerto Rican neighborhood was demolished in the 50s where the Lincoln Center now stands. More poignantly, while Doc’s drugstore is still the home base of the Jets, Doc has passed and the store is now run by his widow, Valentina, a Puerto Rican woman played by none other than Rita Moreno in an age-defying role for the 90yo powerhouse. When Spielberg contacted her about appearing in his film she demurred that she did not do cameos. When told that they had written a role specifically for her she was over the moon. They even gave her a solo with ‘There’s a Place for Us.’ Traditionally a duet between Maria and Tony, here Valentina sings it while looking at old photos of her and Doc, lending some wizened world weariness to the overall hopeful tone. The new screenplay leans a bit more toward gritty realism, but there’s only so far a film featuring hardened street punks performing perfect pirouettes in unison can go in that direction. So … why? The answer is, I think, the cast. Unlike the 1961 film, all of the Puerto Rican roles are played by latinx performers. What’s more, they are allowed to be themselves. In 1961 even the latinx actors - including Rita Moreno herself - were forced to wear heavy brown makeup in order to hammer home the point that they were Not White. In 2021 the full spectrum of Puerto Rican ethnicity and culture is not just on display, but is celebrated. The numbers featuring the Sharks maintain the frantic vibrancy seen in the 1961 film, but add color and joy. But lest you think that the actors were chosen merely due to their ethnicity, Rachel Zegler shines as Maria, and Ariana DeBose steals the entire movie with a tour-de-force performance as Anita that will almost assuredly garner her an Oscar. Hardcore fans of the musical or the 1961 film version will likely be thrilled with this adaptation that breathes new life into a cherished classic. For others it is still worth seeing, but is not a Must See in my estimation.

- The Pretenders -

Belfast. Written and directed by Kenneth Branagh (nominated for both), “Belfast” is a nostalgic love letter to his hometown and the youth he spent therein. Following a tight-knit extended Protestant family during The Troubles in the Belfast of 1969, the film centers on Buddy, an ebullient 9yo boy, to such an extent that we never learn his parents’ names; they are simply Ma and Pa. This is not a film about The Troubles so much as it is a film about an attempt to live a normal, quiet life in the midst of The Troubles. Providing a child’s-eye view of major events that are beyond childish comprehension, the film brings to mind Taika Waititi’s “Jojo Rabbit.” But where Waititi veered into whimsical fantasy, Branagh remains firmly rooted in sweet nostalgia. Both films revolve around the performances of their young stars, and here Jude Hill shines as Buddy, who is clearly a fictionalized version of a young Branagh. At once eager to be Involved and clueless as to What’s Going On, Buddy careens through the film with the undirected intensity and verve that only children can muster. He discusses at length with his friends how to tell if someone is Catholic, and when he is swept up in some riotous looting he grabs a box of laundry detergent to show willing, but clearly doesn’t understand what is happening and is unable to explain to his appalled mother why he did it (‘It’s biological!’ he exclaims, quoting an advertising blurb on the box). Artfully shot in stark black and white - only the movies that Buddy loves to escape in are in color - the film also features some great supporting performances. Both actors portraying Buddy’s grandparents - Ciarán Hinds as Pop and a scene-stealing Dame Judi Dench as Granny - have been nominated for their efforts. If you are looking for a film that explores the politics of The Troubles this is not it. But if you’re interested in understanding what it felt like to be a child growing up in those tumultuous times then this is the film for you.

Dune. The latest attempt to adapt Frank Herbert’s beloved sci-fi classic for the screen fails spectacularly on two fronts. First, there are no characters in this film; only job descriptions. Everyone stoically performs their assigned tasks without a hint of personality or complex emotions. The result is that it is nearly impossible for the viewer to establish any sort of empathic connection to the characters. About halfway through the bloated 2hr 35m run time (more on that below) I turned to my seatmate and said, “I don’t give a shit about what happens to anyone in this film.” The second serious flaw is the pacing, which is glacial. The camera frequently lingers over long establishing shots of the bleak desert landscape. The cinematography is sumptuous, to be sure, but after the third or fourth prolonged shot the likely response is ‘They’re in a desert. We get it.’ Internal landscapes are treated similarly, with languid, wordless closeups of blank, vaguely concerned faces that are meant to convey either intense brooding over the untenable nature of galactic politics, or vexation over the possibility that the shrimp at lunch may have been bad. It’s hard to say. It’s almost as though, rather than film an adaptation of “Dune,” director Denis Villeneuve decided to make a visual tone poem about how watching an adaptation of “Dune” would make you feel. Given that this is Part 1, the first half of a planned two-part ‘epic,’ one can’t help but feel there was a conscious effort to pad the film in order to justify a second to make more money. It is telling that neither Villeneuve nor any of the actors were nominated for their efforts, which is pretty unusual for a Best Picture nominee. Between the lack of connection to the characters and the numbing, prolonged empty shots I was confronted by a feeling that I have never had before while watching an action / adventure sci-fi blockbuster: I was bored.

Licorice Pizza. A quirky and frenetic coming-of-age story set in 1973 LA, “Licorice Pizza” (the title is taken from a defunct chain of SoCal record stores and has absolutely nothing to do with the film) is the story of Gary Valentine, a marginally-successful child actor who, at 15, is aging out of his chosen profession. Gary (played with aplomb by Cooper Hoffman, son of the late, great Philip Seymour Hoffman) has a ‘love at first sight’ moment with Alana Kane (Alana Haim, of the rock band Haim), the bored and detached assistant to the school photographer, whilst posing for his annual school portrait. After sitting for his photo Gary chats Alana up despite the 10-year gap between their ages. And while he is rebuffed, it is clear that Alana is intrigued, prompting Gary to persist in his pursuit. While not exactly rich, Gary’s acting career has provided him with far more disposable income than your average 15yo, which leads him to embark on zany adventures and start unusual businesses (pinball parlor, waterbed store) with equal abandon. Alana gets swept up and goes along for reasons even she does not understand. Far from a traditional love story - Gary’s status as a minor prevents them from pursuing a romantic relationship - they careen through LA bouncing off of others and returning to each other like a couple of balls in one of Gary’s pinball machines. Their relationship - not quite friends, not quite partners, definitely not lovers - is symbiotic and codependent. Gary gains self-esteem from the association with an attractive older woman, while Alana gains entrée into a world she could otherwise not access, all while feeling superior due to her comparative maturity despite her lack of accomplishments. All of this would be a fun, light-hearted, fast-paced romp if it weren’t for two glaring problems. First, the age gap (he 15, she 25) is supposedly a major plot point and motivating factor in the film. However, the actors do not look 10 years apart, and their characters do not act 10 years apart. So if it were not for Alana stating that she is 25 almost obsessively the viewer would be excused for thinking this is a typical teen love story. Far more problematic, however, are a couple of scenes that feature John Michael Higgins playing a restauranteur with a Japanese wife. Gary’s mother (and business partner) is meeting with Higgins’ character Jerry Frick and his wife Mioko to discuss a marketing campaign for a Japanese restaurant they are opening. Since Mioko does not speak English we expect Jerry to translate. Instead, he turns to Mioko and speaks to her in English but with a farcical, over-the-top Asian accent (think Mickey Rooney in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”). What’s worse, this bit is essentially repeated later in the film with a different Japanese wife, Kimiko, because apparently Asian women are interchangeable. These scenes are disconnected from the rest of the film and do not service the plot in any way. They feel completely out of place in this film and seem to belong more to the satirical farce genre for which Higgins is known (“A Mighty Wind,” “Best in Show,” etc.). And the defense - that they were not poking fun at Asians, but rather at clueless white people who are totally ignorant of Asian culture - would work much better in that context as well. If Higgins’ Frick were a major character in the film who was shown to be ridiculous for a wide variety of reasons then maybe we could accept that this was simply another instance of him being ridiculous, albeit racist. But these scenes are literally the only time that Frick appears in the film! The effect is very much as though you were watching a seemingly normal, entertaining film, when all of a sudden a minor character appears in blackface without reason or explanation, and then simply disappears without comment. The end result is a film that sounds like it might be good, but ends up leaving a bad taste in your mouth, much like a licorice pizza.

Nightmare Alley. Director Guillermo del Toro definitely has a penchant for the darker, creepier, seedier side of life, and this outing is no exception. “Nightmare Alley” delves into the underbelly of life in a 1930s traveling carnival sideshow, replete with strongmen, deformed fetuses, and, of course, chicken-beheading geeks. Bradley Cooper stars as Stanton Carlisle, a two-bit grifter with much larger aspirations, who joins the carnival ostensibly because he is desperate but actually because he wants to learn secrets that he can use in his own cons. He gloms onto a carny couple who used to have a successful mentalist act, and becomes obsessed with the notebook that contains all of the secrets by which it worked. When Pete, the alcoholic old carny played by David Strathairn, is reluctant to divulge its secrets, Stan slips him wood alcohol during a bender, steals it, and runs away with Molly, a pretty carny played by Rooney Mara. The two leave the grungy carny world behind and are climbing the social ladder performing dinner shows for the tuxedo set, when they run into Dr. Lilith Ritter, a skeptical psychologist played by the always-wonderful Cate Blanchett. What follows is a dangerous caper involving the Mob with plenty of plot twists and double crosses. The film aims at being a taut psychological thriller, but misses the mark in large part due to its predictability. When carny Boss Clem (Willem Dafoe) explains in detail how he scoops up geeks from a skid row called Nightmare Alley, you pretty much know that he is foreshadowing Stan’s fate. And in the very first scene between Stan and Dr. Ritter, where she tries to call out his deception, it’s obvious that she has her own agenda and is looking for a patsy. With an overall dark and grimy feel (virtually every outside shot takes place at night in the rain) and alleged twists that you can see coming a mile away this is a disappointing outing for del Toro.

The Power of the Dog. This is a rare cinematic achievement: a film that is actually more fun to think about and discuss afterwards than it is to watch. It is set in the not-so-wild West of 1920s Montana. There are still cowboys and cattle drives, to be sure, but there are also automobiles, restaurants, and tuxedoes. The Burbanks are a pair of well-to-do brothers whose parents have set them up to run a profitable cattle ranch. Phil (played by Benedict Cumberbatch in a nominated role) has an Ivy-League education and the savvy and wit necessary to follow his father into the Upper Crust. His brother George (Jesse Plemons, also nominated) has none of that, but desperately aspires to that lifestyle. As if to spite his brother, Phil willfully turns his back on the life amongst the elite that George craves, preferring the rough-and-tumble existence of a cowboy on the open range. The brothers’ codependent (they share a bedroom like kids) and abusive (Phil incessantly bullies his brother, whom he calls Fatso) routine is upended when George marries Rose (played with restrained desperation by Kirsten Dunst, nominated), a pretty widow from town. Rose has a teenaged son, Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee with yet another nomination), who is smart (he attends med school) but quirky and delicate. This initially draws the ire of Phil, who bullies and humiliates Peter with homophobic gusto. But when Rose and Peter move into the main house at the ranch, and George vacates his twin bed in Phil’s room for the master suite with Rose, Phil’s attitude towards Peter abruptly changes and he takes an almost parental interest in the lad, offering to teach him to ride and drive cattle much the way Phil’s own beloved mentor ‘Bronco’ Henry had done for him when he was Peter’s age. What follows is a revenge-driven pyschodrama of a murder mystery that is so subtle you may well miss it unless you are paying very close attention (hint: it’s all about the gloves). Many of the key ingredients of a great film are here. As the blizzard of acting nominations suggests, the performances are remarkably strong. And the filmcraft is top-notch, with some beautiful cinematography that was nominated as well. Where the film falls flat, however, is in the delivery of the narrative. “The Power of the Dog” is presented in numbered and titled sections, with gaps of indeterminate length in between during which unknown events take place, leaving the viewer to constantly try to piece together where we are in the story and what has happened offscreen. The result is a constant feeling of having walked into a film in progress and trying to figure out the story thus far from context. What’s more, much of the narrative detail and some crucial plot points are conveyed through casual background conversations - often between minor characters - making them easy to miss. While this does provide for a more realistic 'slice of life' feel than a hero lapsing into an expository soliloquy alone in an empty room, it also makes the narrative much harder to follow, and detracts from the enjoyment of the viewing experience. So is the post-game analysis of a subtle and intricate plot worth the frustration and confusion of sitting through the movie? For me it was not.

So which should win?

My personal favorites this year were “Don’t Look Up” and “Drive My Car.” I think “Drive My Car” is probably a better film overall, but “Don’t Look Up” perfectly met its moment and provided a much-needed shot of levity into a thoroughly depressing time. I’ll take “Don’t Look Up” as my personal pick.

But which film WILL win?

This appears to be a virtual dead heat between “CODA” and “The Power of the Dog.” I loved “CODA,” and while I did come to appreciate “The Power of the Dog” ex post facto, I did not enjoy watching it much. I’m pulling for “CODA,” but it’s honestly a coin toss.

And in the other categories …

Best Director: Jane Campion seems to have this sewn up for “The Power of the Dog.” I don’t really have a major quibble; it is a finely-crafted film. I think the best scenario would be a split in which “CODA” wins Best Picture, but Campion wins Best Director, which is actually not that unlikely.

Best Actress: Jessica Chastain for “The Eyes of Tammy Faye.”

Best Supporting Actress: If Ariana DeBose does not win here for her captivating turn as Anita in “West Side Story” it will mark the fall of Western civilization.

Best Actor: For a bona fide movie star on the scale of Will Smith to completely disappear into a role to such an extent that you have to keep reminding yourself that it is Will Smith is an amazing achievement. That he made it look effortless goes a long way to explaining why Will Smith should run away with this one for his role as Richard in “King Richard.”

Best Supporting Actor: Troy Kostur should win here for his role as Frank in “CODA.” If he wins he will become the first deaf man to ever win an acting Oscar; his “CODA” costar Marlee Matlin was, of course, the first deaf woman to do so. Jodi Smith-McPhee is nipping at Troy’s heels for his role as Peter in “The Power of the Dog,” but Troy should prevail.

There are tight, two-way races in both screenwriting categories.

Best Original Screenplay: It’s down to “Licorice Pizza” or “Belfast,” with “Licorice Pizza” the slight favorite. If you delete a couple cringe-inducing scenes of racism it is an engaging story, so I’ll go with Paul Thomas Anderson for “Licorice Pizza.”

Best Adapted Screenplay: This one is between “CODA” and “The Power of the Dog,” with a small edge to “CODA.” It’s hard to read the tea leaves on this one, but I’m going with Siân Heder for “CODA.” Both stories are intricate, but “CODA” is actually enjoyable.

Best Cinematography: Greig Fraser for “Dune” in a landslide. As boring as it was, it was beautiful to look at.

Best Visual Effects: Paul Lambert, Tristan Myles, Brian Connor and Gerd Nefzer for “Dune.”

Best Animated Film: “Encanto” will win as the Pixar juggernaut just keeps jugging along.

Best Sound: Mac Ruth, Mark Mangini, Theo Green, Doug Hemphill and Ron Bartlett for “Dune.”

Best International Feature Film: When a foreign-language film is nominated for Best Picture you know that it probably won’t win, but will be a shoo-in for Best International Feature. “Drive My Car” is the only choice here.

And that’ll do it for this year! Let’s hope the pandemic is actually over next year!

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tediousoscars · 3 years

Text

2020

Predict-o-meter: This year: 9/12; Total: 117/147 (80%)

Hey. What’s up? Anything much happen since we talked last March?

Delayed, but undaunted, it is a minor miracle that the Oscars are happening at all, and even more surprising that they have managed to assemble a fairly strong class of eight films, due in large part to the advent of streaming services as original content creators.

It was a big year for 1968 Chicago, with two nominated films - “Judas and the Black Messiah,” and “The Trial of the Chicago 7” - plumbing the depths of that tumultuous time and place (Black Panther Chairman Fred Hampton appears in both films).

And it was a good year for innovation, with films like “The Father,” “Nomadland,” and “Sound of Metal” boldly exploring new techniques in film-making.

But, of course, overall it was a very bad year, but instead of dwelling on that, let’s jump right in, shall we?

The Father is the story of a successful, retired engineer who is sliding into dementia and vehemently resisting his daughter’s attempts to help him by hiring in-home caregivers. Anthony Hopkins (nominated) is breathtaking as the titular father (also named Anthony), but Olivia Colman (also nominated) matches him as his put-upon daughter, Anne.

Most films that deal with such topics do so from the outside. We watch the decline of the afflicted person and judge their reasonableness by the reactions of those around them. When they are delusional or hallucinating we know because the other characters say so, and we believe them.

The genius of “The Father” is that it goes to great lengths to effectively put the audience in Anthony’s shoes. Scenes are shot out of sequence, and sometimes repeated. The time and even the setting change without warning. And, most disconcertingly, the actors playing certain roles may be different from scene to scene. So when Anthony can’t recognize his own daughter we are right there with him because the woman standing in front of him is not the same one originally introduced as Anne.

This leads to confusion and disorientation in the viewer which, if not as intense as Anthony’s, at least allows an empathetic glimpse into his declining mental state. This is no light-hearted romp; there will be no happily ever after. Anthony ends up confused and afraid, sobbing uncontrollably and crying for his mommy. But he is never alone, and he is never uncared for, making this a deeply touching, deeply human story. With impeccable acting and innovative storytelling, “The Father” is certainly a worthy nominee by any standard.

Judas and the Black Messiah tells the incredible true story of the war waged between the FBI and the Black Panther party in Chicago in the late 60s. LaKeith Lee Stanfield (nominated) plays ‘Wild’ Bill O’Neal, a two-bit hustler who flashes a fake FBI badge, claims the car outside is stolen, confiscates the keys, and then makes off with the car. When he is caught and facing prison time for impersonating a Federal agent he decides to become an informant and is sent to infiltrate the local chapter of the Black Panther Party who’s young, articulate, charismatic leader, Fred Hampton (played by Daniel Kaluuya, also nominated) is on an FBI watch list as having the potential to become a Black Messiah and galvanize the minority population across the nation.

The world created in the film is nuanced, complex, and anything but black and white (pardon the pun). On the one hand, Chairman Hampton reaches out not only to a rival Black gang, but also to white supremacists flying the stars and bars, and a Latino gang as well. By making common cause on the grounds of lack of economic opportunity and harassment by the ‘pigs,’ Hampton forms the first Rainbow Coalition, much to the consternation of the closely-watching FBI. On the other hand, Wild Bill’s handler, Agent Mitchell, starts out all gung-ho to fight domestic terrorists, but becomes disconcerted about his superiors’ willingness - even eagerness - to cut legal corners in order to achieve desired ends. For his part, Wild Bill enters the informant agreement as a total cynic looking out for number one. But a grudging admiration for Hampton’s goals and methods leads him to question his role in the unfolding drama.

O’Neal wants out, but Mitchell (and an impending sentence) won’t let him. Mitchell wants to do things by the book, but the FBI won’t let him. Hampton wants to do things peacefully, but the Chicago police won’t let him. All three men become swept up by forces beyond their control that propel them to an inevitable, tragic, and violent climax. Stanfield and Kaluuya both give such commanding performances that apparently the Academy could not decide which of them was the lead, nominating both for Best Supporting Actor in a curious move. The storytelling is fast-paced with several independent plot threads that director Shaka King masterfully weaves into a coherent, compelling tapestry to create a film that is at once edifying and thoroughly entertaining.

Mank is a great movie about the making of the greatest movie. When a young Orson Welles is given carte blanche to make any movie he wants with full creative control, he brings in Herman ‘Mank’ Mankiewicz (played with verve by the nominated Gary Oldman) to write the screenplay. In 60 days.

Mank is a (barely) functioning alcoholic, gadfly, bon vivant, and frustrated auteur who feels that his artistry is constantly being watered down by the studios to appease the masses. Hence he finds Welles’ offer of no studio oversight irresistible. Recovering from a car accident, Mank spends the entire writing process bed-ridden and tended by a stern German hausfrau to care for his material needs and an attractive British woman to take dictation who spends equal time worrying over her husband in the Royal Navy and skewering Mank with disapproving glances at his irreverent behavior.

Through flashbacks we see Mank cut an Oscar-Wilde-esque figure that gains him entree into the world of the upper crust of Hollywood. He becomes a favored dinner guest of William Randolph Hearst because his snide, witty, risqué repartee provides - as the Las Vegas ad says - just the right amount of wrong.

From the opening title to the closing credits the film is shot entirely in the style of 1940s Hollywood: in black and white, with outsized characters spitting rapid-fire snappy patter and sizzling dialog, a melodramatic score, and a large, talented supporting cast.

Arliss Howard shines as studio mogul Louis B. Mayer, and basically steals the entire movie with a sequence in which he violently punches a man to the ground for anti-semitism, cheerfully and grandiosely pontificates upon the glory that is MGM studios, and tearfully enjoins the rank and file of said studio to accept a 50% pay cut due to the Depression - all within the span of about 30 seconds while barely taking a breath. Tuppence Middleton is also wonderful as Mank’s long-suffering wife (universally known as ‘Poor Sara’), who is every bit Mank’s equal when it comes to wit, but who cannot match his irresponsibility and so is back East caring for their children throughout the writing process. What “Mank” lacks in historical accuracy it makes up for in plain old fun. A thoroughly enjoyable film.

Minari is, despite its Korean origins, an unabashed love sonnet to the American Dream. Jacob, played by Steven Yeun in a nominated role, is a world-class chicken sexer with larger ambitions. Because of his amazing speed at separating male chicks from female he manages to scrape together enough money to buy a plot of land in rural Arkansas and pursue his dream of starting his own farm.

His pragmatic wife Monica does not share this dream and reluctantly agrees to move with their two children from the comfortable confines of California - with its thriving Korean community - to the hinterlands, and is discomfited to find that their new home is a trailer parked next to a large, empty field in the middle of nowhere.

They both take jobs as sexers at a local poultry farm where Monica is much slower than her husband but is told that she is “fast enough for Arkansas.” But Jacob is restless and begins to spend more and more time trying to get his ‘garden of Eden’ up and running.

One of the first tasks is to dig a well, and when a dowser comes out to demonstrate his skill at locating water Jacob explains to his young son David that, “Americans believe nonsense, but Koreans use their minds.” The viewer would be forgiven at this stage for thinking that this will become a theme of the film with the Koreans rolling their eyes at the eccentricities of their American neighbors and maintaining an insular distance to preserve their culture, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Rather the theme that develops could be summarized as coexistence without assimilation. The differences between the Koreans and Americans are not ignored, nor are they celebrated; they simply are. When David’s classmate Johnnie asks him why his face is so flat there is no racist animus behind the question, merely childish curiosity. And the two go on to become fast friends. Similarly, Jacob may find his handyman Paul’s tradition of dragging a heavy wooden cross through the back roads of the area each Sunday as very strange, but Paul is a good and loyal worker, so where’s the harm?

Our expectations are further defied with the arrival of Monica’s mother Soonja (played by Yuh-jung Youn in a show-stealing nominated role) from Korea to help look after the kids. We expect a stern, disapproving ‘tiger mother’ but find instead that she is kind-hearted, mischievous, and foul-mouthed in equal measure.

Though 7yo David, whom she had never met before her arrival, is initially stand-offish, the two eventually form a bond and take to going off on exploratory hikes on which Soonja encourages David into more physical activity than his over-protective mother generally allows due to a congenital heart condition.

It is during one of these excursions that Soonja finds a perfect spot on the banks of a creek in the woods to plant the seeds of minari (Korean water chestnut) that she has brought with her from Korea.

Through hard work and perseverance the family seems to be making their way. Monica is accepted at the local church, the kids make friends at school, Jacob and Paul manage to get a crop planted and harvested, and even David’s heart condition seems to be spontaneously healing.

But when disaster strikes and the crop is lost they find that Soonja’s minari - transplanted from Korea - is thriving in America and has spread widely along the creek banks, providing enough of a crop to squeak by.

“Minari” is a quiet, gentle little film that touches upon some large, sweeping themes that we like to think of as American but are really universal: success through hard work and self-reliance, but also the importance of family and community. And, most of all, tolerance of other cultures that is born out of mutual respect. I think we all could do with a bit more of this version of the American Dream right now.

Nomadland blurs the distinction between documentary and feature film. The town of Empire, NV really did essentially evaporate when the local gypsum plant shut down, and most of the people who appear onscreen are actually nomads playing slightly idealized versions of themselves.

The two primary exceptions are Frances McDormand (nominated), as Fern, who blends in so well that many of the nomads didn’t realize she was an Oscar-winning actress and accepted her as one of their own, and David Strathairn as Dave, who sticks out like such a sore thumb that he may as well have ‘ACTOR’ tattooed across his forehead.

The nomads are a cadre of mostly older Americans who have taken to the road in modified vans to eke out a meager existence on the peripheries of society. Fern joins their ranks after the death of her husband leaves her with absolutely no reason to stay in Empire and few resources to resettle anywhere else. After a helpful seminar on what size bucket to shit in and a stern lecture about the necessity of having a spare tire, Fern careens across the American west finding temporary, seasonal work at Amazon fulfillment centers, National Parks, and even Wall Drug.

If I had to summarize “Nomadland” in a single word that word would be ‘bleak.’ Though the nomads form a transient community that is supportive and operates primarily on goodwill and barter, their personal relationships tend to be impermanent (with an over-arching vague promise to meet again ‘down the road’) and their lives tend to be characterized by isolation and desperation, always one medical issue or flat tire away from death.

The film is presented diary style, following Fern’s day-to-day activities over the course of a year, with little narrative superimposed. The closest thing to a plot thread is Dave’s gentle but persistent attempts at a relationship with Fern, which mostly seems inexplicable given that Fern is barely civil to him.

If you are into ‘slice of life’ films that provide a glimpse into another culture then maybe “Nomadland” is for you, but I might recommend upping your Zoloft dosage before watching.

Promising Young Woman introduces us to Cassie (short for Cassandra - the Greek prophetess who was never believed), a woman young enough to still be hot, but old enough to ‘know better,’ who has a very strange hobby: she frequents bars and clubs, pretends to be falling-down drunk, and waits for some ‘nice’ guy to take her home.

When said ‘nice’ guy inevitably makes both his intentions and his lack of concern over her consent known, but before things get too out of hand, she suddenly reveals her stone-cold sobriety and confronts her would-be paramour, much to his consternation and frustration. In the real world one might expect these confrontations to turn violent - either on her part or his - but in Cassie’s world they end with the ineffectual guy feeling chagrinned and Cassie feeling smug.

We gradually learn that Cassie and her lifelong bestie Nina were once promising med students, but Nina got blackout drunk at a party and was gang raped, leading them both to drop out, Nina to commit suicide, and Cassie to resign herself to living with her parents and slumming a dead-end barista job. And that’s just Act 1.

Act 2 sees the introduction of a love interest in the form of a former med-school classmate now turned successful pediatric surgeon, and the pair spiral off into a brief rom-com that seemingly puts Cassie well on her way to healing and getting on with her life.

Then a tragic plot twist (no spoilers here) propels Cassie into an Act 3 full of vengeance and, yes, violence, but probably not quite in the way you were expecting.

“Promising Young Woman” is a searing indictment of the rape culture that values the career prospects of young men over the well-being and even lives of young women. Carey Mulligan stars as Cassie and is remarkable. Her nuanced performance captures a struggle with mental illness along with a parallel struggle to conceal it; her Best Actress nomination is richly deserved. And comedian Bo Burnham shows some surprising acting chops as the love interest.

Overall some of the scenarios portrayed may seem a tad unrealistic (a withering stare seems to be all that is needed to put obnoxious men in their place), but the film creates a self-consistent ethos that makes this forgivable. There is a rich and compelling plot, with a couple great twists leading to a conclusion that is both tragic and oddly satisfying. Though it deals with very heavy subject matter the film never feels preachy or heavy-handed. There are no graphic scenes and no nudity. “Promising Young Woman” manages to be thought-provoking without being gratuitously shocking, which, considering the subject matter, is no mean feat.

Sound of Metal. There is a common story-telling trope that goes like this: take a protagonist who is generally happy and comfortable, suddenly rip them from their familiar surroundings into a strange new world, launch them on a quest to return to their ‘normal’ life, but when they finally achieve that goal have them discover that the journey has changed them to such an extent that they no longer fit into their once-idyllic world. Neil Gaiman has basically made a career out of telling stories of this type.

“Sound of Metal” follows this traditional outline in a very non-traditional way. Ruben, played by Riz Ahmed in a nominated role, is living his best life. A former heroin addict rescued by the love of a good woman, he now tours with her incessantly as the drummer of their heavy-metal duo. It’s just the two of them in their RV, traveling the country, doing shows, and loving each other with no rules or restrictions.

This all comes crashing down when Ruben suffers sudden and almost complete hearing loss. His partner Lou leverages some connections and manages to find him a spot in a deaf community and they drive off to check it out. At this point Ruben is very much thinking this is a temporary condition. A doctor has told him about cochlear implants, which he sees as a panacea to get him back to normal with the only barrier being the expense of the procedure. Lou convinces the reluctant Ruben to stay with the community - at least temporarily while they figure things out - and then flies home to her rich parents’ house.

The community is loosely led by Joe, a stern and wizened figure who basically plays Yoda to Ruben’s Luke. Right off the bat Joe explains that this is an immersive experience, so he confiscates Ruben’s phone and RV keys, and explains to Ruben that the members of the community view deafness as a way of life with a rich culture, not an ailment to be cured.

At first Ruben nods along politely, but is clearly not fully engaged. But gradually he learns sign language and begins to assimilate into the community. A major step in this process is Ruben’s involvement with an associated school for deaf children where he is able to bond with the kids by introducing them to drumming.

Eventually Ruben appears to embrace the community fully to the point where Joe offers him a job so he can stick around permanently. But throughout this entire process Ruben has been secretly plotting to get his old life back. He sells the band’s sound equipment as well as the RV to raise funds for the operation, and sneaks into Joe’s office when no one is looking to access the internet and arrange appointments.

While the surgery is nominally successful and restores some measure of Ruben’s hearing, the results are by no means what he expected.

On the one hand, true to his stated policy, Joe informs Ruben that since he is no longer a part of the deaf community he can no longer stay with them.

And on the other hand, the sound Ruben now hears is mechanical and distorted, and while it works well enough to allow him to carry on a one-on-one conversation in isolation, in any situation with significant background noise - a crowded room, a busy street - the distortion becomes overwhelming and he can barely make out what is being said.

When he is reunited with Lou it becomes clear to him that while she still loves him, she has moved on and prospered professionally and no longer pines for their previous nomadic existence. Finally Ruben accepts that his life is changed and he removes the external sound processors associated with the implants and revels in resulting absolute silence.

“Sound of Metal” is a well-crafted film with all of the requisite components - strong characters, compelling plot, good direction. But the genius of the film is in its sound design. We are frequently put inside Ruben’s head and allowed to hear what he is hearing, often to devastating effect. Early in the film the band is onstage and Ruben is pounding on the drums for all he’s worth, but what we hear is nothing but a muted wumpf wumpf wumpf. Later, after the implants, Lou is singing a beautiful song with her father at a party and Ruben stands in the crowd paying seemingly rapturous attention. Then our sonic perspective is shifted to his and we realize that what he is actually hearing is such a garbled mess that you can barely make on the melody. This powerful device increases our empathy for and understanding of Ruben’s journey throughout the film and serves to make his realization that his life, as he knew it, is over all the more impactful. Truly brilliant work from a film-making craft that is often under-appreciated.

The Trial of the Chicago 7. If the phrase “there’s a lot to unpack here” did not exist then it would need to be invented for this film. With more strong characters with independent backstories and plot threads than an Avengers movie, it is truly a spectacle to behold.

Based on the trial of eight defendants arrested for conspiracy to incite the riots that marred the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, most of the action is set in the raucous courtroom with frequent flashbacks to elucidate specific testimony.

The eight defendants can barely stand one another and have little in common save the notion that war is generally a bad idea. This, of course, is awkward for the Government’s case that they conspired together since by all appearances they couldn’t conspire to order a ham sandwich. Throw in an increasingly unhinged judge and an acerbic defense lawyer who collects contempt citations like Pokemon, and all you can do is sit back and reach for the popcorn.

But this isn’t all fun and games. The reason it is the Chicago 7, rather than the Chicago 8, is because the trial of Bobby Seale, a member of the Black Panther Party and the only Black defendant, was declared a mistrial halfway through the proceedings. Abbie Hoffman (played with typical flamboyant exuberance by Sacha Baron Cohen in a nominated role) wryly observes that Seale was only thrown in to scare the jury; he is not even represented by the same lawyer as the other 7. And since his lawyer can’t be present due to a medical emergency he consistently points out that his right to representation is being violated, much to the consternation of the judge.

This all comes to a head when, after one of Seale’s repeated outbursts, the judge orders him removed from the courtroom and “dealt with.” He returns shackled and gagged, which is a bridge too far for the Federal prosecutor who is already concerned that this trial is being pursued for largely political reasons.

There are some serious and substantive discussions of social issues of the day as well, but for the most part the film is a fast-paced roller coaster ride that is just a lot of fun. With a strong and star-studded ensemble cast (is that Michael Keaton?) and sure-handed direction from writer-director Aaron Sorkin (nominated for writing, not directing) who manages to balance entertainment with a strong message “The Trial of the Chicago 7” is sure to be a crowd-pleaser.

So which SHOULD win?

The two films that I most enjoyed watching were “Mank” and “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” and both for similar reasons: great ensemble casts, compelling stories, quick-witted snappy dialogue. But I think the one that would stand up best to repeated viewings is “Mank,” so that’s my pick.

But which will win?

Much to my befuddlement the clear odds-on favorite to win is “Nomadland,” the only film in the bunch that I did not enjoy. At all. “The Trial of the Chicago 7” is a distant second, but there has been some chatter that it might have a chance due to the new ranked-choice voting. The thinking is that “Nomadland” may well win the first-choice votes, but it’s support in the second- and third-choice slots will drop dramatically, which will allow “The Trial of the Chicago 7” to sneak in due to its broader overall appeal. I think this is wishful thinking and so am holding my nose and going with “Nomadland,” but I would actually be thrilled to be wrong here.

And in the other categories …

Best Actress: This is by far the most interesting and most hotly-contested race between Carey Mulligan for “Promising Young Woman,” and Viola Davis for “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.” The smart money is on Mulligan, whose performance is truly strong. But Viola Davis’ transformation is utterly complete and completely breathtaking. So I am going to apply a little wishful thinking of my own and go with Viola Davis. Frances McDormand for "Nomadland."

Best Supporting Actress: 73yo Yuh-jung Youn should win here for her fabulous portrayal of the irreverent grandmother in “Minari.” How cool is that?

Best Actor: Chadwick Boseman will join Heath Ledger as a posthumous Oscar recipient for his role in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” in the closest there is to a sure-thing this year. See this is what happens when you get smug. Anthony Hopkins for "The Father."

Best Supporting Actor: Daniel Kaluuya should beat out his “Judas and the Black Messiah” co-star here. Given the Chadwick Boseman juggernaut for Best Actor the Academy may have done him a favor by nominating him here.

Best Director: *sigh* Chloé Zhao appears to be a shoo-in here for “Nomadland.” I just don’t get it.

Best Original Screenplay: This looks to be a two-way race between “Promising Young Woman” and “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” with the former a clear favorite. No argument from me! Emerald Fennell for “Promising Young Woman.”

Best Adapted Screenplay: Another two-way race between “Nomadland” and “The Father.” Incredibly, “Nomadland” is the favorite (What? There’s no plot! It feels more like surveillance footage than a feature film!) Whatever. Chloé Zhao for “Nomadland.” Hmpf. Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller for "The Father."

Best Documentary: “My Octopus Teacher” should beat out “Time” here.

Best Animated Feature: The Pixar train just keeps on a-rolling with “Soul.”

Best Cinematography: This is between (wait for it) “Nomadland” and “Mank.” Joshua James Richards for “Nomadland.” I give up.

Best Production Design: The stylized 1940s-movie feel of “Mank” should carry Donald Graham Burt and Jan Pascale to a win here.

Best Sound Design: Nicolas Becker, Jaime Baksht, Michellee Couttolene, Carlos Cortés, and Phillip Bladh should be runaway winners for “Sound of Metal.” The sound design really makes that film!

And that’s it for this most terrible of years. Hopefully we’ll be able to watch movies in actual theaters again soon!

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tediousoscars · 4 years

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2019

Predict-o-meter: This year: 9/11; Total: 108/134 (83%)

Welcome, welcome one and all to this year’s diatribe concerning all things Oscar.

With one glaring exception (see if you can spot it) this year’s class is solid with some soaring achievements at the top and a lot of really solid work through the middle.

So without further ado, let’s get to it ...

- THE CONTENDERS -

1917. In most war movies the MacGuffin is winning: a skirmish, a battle, a campaign, or, ultimately the war. In “1917” the goal is to call off an attack; to avoid a battle. Most war movies focus on the big picture: strategy, troop movements, etc. “1917” focuses on a single soldier embarking on a single mission for a single day. “1917” is not most war movies. The Germans have executed a strategic retreat and established a new defensive position. A zealous British commander is in hot pursuit, but Command has learned - through the new-fangled technology of aerial photography - that he is charging into a trap. No telegraph lines have yet been laid to the forward position, and radio is not quite a thing yet, so the only way to warn the commander is to send soldiers across no-man’s land, across the previous German line, across the French countryside to deliver the message in person. What follows is a quixotic quest full of constant fear and tension across a landscape made bizarre by the ravages and awful logic of war. It is a saga of commonplace heroism, of a man randomly plucked from obscurity, given an awesome, nigh-impossible task, and rising to the occasion for no other reason than it is his job. The film is expertly paced and while moments of sheer panic are rare, moments of relaxation are nonexistent. Though the time-honored message - war is hell - is definitely there, it is not driven home in the typical, ham-fisted way, and the final scene in which our hero collapses against a tree and gazes out at an idyllic sunlit pasture feels more triumphant than any victory brought about by explosions and bullets.

Jojo Rabbit. I often like to go into these films with no knowledge in order to avoid preconceptions, an approach that was a little jarring in this case, at least at first. In “Jojo Rabbit” director Taika Waititi creates a vivid, slightly out-in-leftfield world that will be familiar to fans of Wes Anderson (particularly “Moonrise Kingdom”). However, Anderson’s Boy Scouts have been replaced (as the vaguely authoritarian and hierarchical children’s organization central to the film) by the Nazi’s Hitler Youth. The opening scenes in which an excited 10yo Johannes "Jojo" Betzler bounces around his room in full Nazi regalia chattering away with his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler (“C’mon, now ... Heil me!”), as he prepares for Nazi training camp are downright off-putting at a visceral level. For a second I thought I’d stumbled into an unironic production of “Springtime for Hitler.” But soon enough you realize that you are seeing the world through Jojo’s young eyes, and that he is a sensitive, insecure boy who is desperate for acceptance. Jojo uncritically accepts the worst Nazi propaganda about the Jews to the point that when he actually meets a Jewish girl he asks where her horns are (“They don’t grow in until you are 21,” she coyly replies). What follows is a complex tale of human drama told from a persistently childish (in the best sense of that word) perspective. The fact that it doesn’t just fly apart into an incoherent mess is a testament to Waititi’s skill as a director (WHY was he not nominated?) and a story that starts out uncomfortably off-putting ends up being thought-provoking and heartwarming. This film defies all expectation and should not be missed.

Little Women. A fresh take on a much-beloved classic, “Little Women” follows a family of 4 sisters through late childhood and early adulthood as they struggle with questions of marriage and career through the lens of an 18th-century culture that has quite definite opinions on these matters. The sisters are well cast and have good chemistry. Two of them - Saoirse Ronan as Jo and Florence Pugh as Amy - were nominated for their trouble. Throw in Laura Dern as Marmee and Meryl Streep as the irrepressible Aunt March and you’ve got a powerhouse cast that drives the film forward and keeps things lively. The storytelling is deft throughout, but for my money the best part is at the end when Jo suddenly and inexplicably agrees to marry a minor character from early in the film that she didn’t even seem to like. It all feels very out of character and more than a little deus ex machina, until the coda showing Jo haggling with her publisher over the publication of her book. When he insists that the main female character must be married (or dead, either is fine) by the end of the book, she reluctantly agrees but asks for more money in return. “If I’m going to sell my heroine into marriage for money, I might as well get some of it,” she declares, adding a nice meta twist that makes Jo’s sudden nuptials not only understandable but downright delectable.

Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood. Director Quentin Tarantino (nominated) returns to a vein he previously mined in 2009’s “Inglorious Basterds”: The alternate-history black comedy. This time out, however, the group upon which he unleashes ahistorical vengeance is not the Nazis, but the Manson Family. Set in 1969 Hollywood in a reality not too far from our own, “Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood” follows Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio in a nominated role) as an aging TV cowboy who flies to Italy to make Spaghetti Westerns in an attempt to salvage his career. His constant companion, stunt double, and manservant is Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt, also nominated), a man of immense talent, but no ambition, who is content to carry Rick’s water as long as it doesn’t interfere with his generally zen lifestyle. What follows is a fascinating character study of the two men as they navigate the politics of Hollywood. Rick, in particular, pursues relevance with the panicked desperation that only middle-aged white men can achieve. But the show is consistently stolen by Pitt’s portrayal of Cliff as some combination of ronin samurai and burnt-out hippy. In every situation Cliff knows exactly what to do and how to do it at the same time that his motivation seems to be little more than, “Well, why not?” It’s breathtaking to watch. The Manson Family, for their part, play a minor, oblique role through most of the film, only to fall victim to Tarantino’s signature cartoonish uber-violence in the film’s climax. Never before has someone being set on fire been this laugh-out-loud funny. “Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood” is like a rollercoaster: don’t over-analyze it, just enjoy the ride. And it is a very enjoyable ride.

Parasite. This is another film I walked into with no foreknowledge and ended up being very pleasantly surprised. “Parasite” is a film from Korea that at its core is about income inequality, but the lens that it uses to examine this phenomenon is unique. “Parasite” follows the Kims, a downtrodden, working-class family of four barely scraping by in the slums of Seoul. Son Ki-Woo is very smart, but can’t afford to attend college like his friend Min-Hyuk, so when Min-Hyuk has a chance to study abroad he asks Ki-Woo to pose as a college student and take over his position tutoring the daughter of the rich Park family. Ki-Woo does so, and through a series of increasingly hilarious hijinks the entire Kim family becomes employed by the Parks in different capacities. The contrast between the capable, sensible, but poor Kims and the clueless but rich Parks is played to maximal comic effect, and you think this is an enjoyable romp and you pretty much know where it’s going. When all of a sudden, in the middle of the second act, the entire film takes a jarring left turn and sends you careening into bizarre, unexplored territory. I won’t spoil it for you, but director Bong Joon Ho richly deserves his nomination for crafting such a compelling story that completely defies expectations.

- THE PRETENDERS -

Ford v Ferrari. This is the true story of how legendary driver and car designer Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) teamed up with the Ford Motor Company to take on Enzo Ferrari and win Le Mans. Central to the effort is the cantankerous Ken Miles (played with verve and gusto by Christian Bale), a British driver and engineer who is obsessed with racing to the exclusion of almost everything else, especially social niceties. When an ambitious, young Lee Iacocca proposes that Ford buy the ailing Ferrari, only to be humiliated by Enzo himself, Henry Ford II (aka “The Deuce”) declares war on Ferrari’s beloved racing team and their dominance at Le Mans. Shelby is recruited as one of a very few Americans to have ever won that race, and he insists on bringing along Miles as one of the few people who share his burning, all-consuming passion for racing. But Ken’s brash, irreverent style conflicts with Ford’s corporate image, and there ensues a protracted battle between Shelby and “the suits.” This is all handled deftly. The interpersonal struggles are well-motivated and feel real, the racing scenes are exciting, and the ultimate, somewhat mixed climax feels very satisfying. Definitely a very good movie, just not a great one.

The Irishman. Pacino. De Niro. Pesci. Keitel. Scorsese. Must be a gangster movie. This time around Scorsese takes on True Crime by studying the circumstances surrounding the disappearance of one-time Teamsters President Jimmy Hoffa (played by Al Pacino in a nominated role that is more than a little ironic given Hoffa’s frequent anti-Italian tirades). The titular Irishman is Frank Sheeran (De Niro); a Teamsters driver, turned scam artist, turned Mob enforcer, turned Hoffa confidant and Union Local President. All of the clichéd gangster tropes are here: the steak dinners, the smoke-filled rooms, the bizarre, posturing pseudo-conversations where nothing is actually said, but everybody “gets the message,” the sudden, brutal violence. All of it. And it is all executed expertly, being second nature to this team by this point. But for my money the film really revolves around Sheeran’s daughter, Peggy (played by Lucy Gallina as a child and Anna Paquin as an adult). Even as a child Peggy sees through the bluff and bluster of Mafia “honor” to its brutal core of senseless violence, and she holds her father in distain for it. This particularly rankles Sheeran’s Don and protector Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci, also nominated), whose lifelong efforts to curry favor with Peggy come to naught. And when Peggy takes a shine to Jimmy Hoffa, seeing him as an honorable man helping people live better lives, Russell’s knickers are well and truly twisted. After Hoffa’s disappearance (the film makes no mystery of it, but I won’t spoil it) Peggy and Frank become fully estranged. Towards the end of his life Frank feels compelled to make a furtive attempt at reconciliation, but offers no remorse nor even any understanding of why Peggy stopped talking to him in the first place. The film ends with Sheeran alone and forgotten in a nursing home, being interviewed by some FBI agents still desperately trying to close the Hoffa case. They point out to him that all of his compatriots are dead, running through a roll call of the characters we have been watching for the past two hours. “Who are you protecting?” they ask. Sheeran has no answer, but offers no assistance, for in the end his loyalty was all he ever had.

Joker. Not since 2012’s “Les Misérables” has a movie been as monotonously bleak as “Joker.” Purportedly the origin story of Batman’s nemesis, “Joker” is a Chinese water torture of debasement and degradation. There’s no real theme or plot; just drip drip drip of indignities piled one upon the other. For hours. The titular Joker doesn’t even emerge from the tortured psyche of Arthur Fleck (played by Joaquin Phoenix in a nominated role) until the film’s waning moments, and even then he is literally just a crazy clown with a gun; hardly a suitable foil for the Batman. Phoenix gamely portrays an abused, antisocial misfit, but the skill with which he applies his craft is not put to any greater purpose. There’s no redemption here, or even a moral, just misery piled upon a man who has always been miserable and always will be. Each year there are at least one or two nominations that I cannot understand. With “Joker,” not only do I fail to understand the nomination, I can’t even understand why it was MADE.

Marriage Story. Meet the Barbers, Charlie and Nicole. They are beautiful (looking exactly like Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson - both nominated) and accomplished: he a playwright and director in New York’s theater community, she a star of stage and screen and Charlie’s favorite leading lady. When Nicole is offered a TV pilot shooting in Hollywood she decides to take son Henry with her, but removed from Charlie’s directorial dictates and suffocating ambition she decides to never go back. What follows is a bi-coastal divorce proceeding and custody battle that pits two people against each other who actually like and admire ~90% of the other, but just can’t reconcile the other 10%. The Barbers have different goals and agendas, but no real animus towards each other. However, the only system available to them for moving forward is one designed along ruthless, winner-take-all grounds. This leads to much conflict and soul-searching. Eventually, through introspection and growth, they manage to achieve something approaching a conscious uncoupling without scarring Henry too much in the process.

So which SHOULD win?

There were a lot of very good, enjoyable films in the class, but only 3 that really made you think about film as an art form and its capabilities: “1917,” “Jojo Rabbit,” and “Parasite.” Of these three Jojo Rabbit was both the most thought-provoking and the most straight-up enjoyable. My pick for the best movie of 2019 is: Jojo Rabbit.

But which WILL win?

“1917” appears to be the favorite, with “Parasite” a potential dark horse. I’m going with “1917,” and I can’t quibble too much; it’s a really good film.

And in the other categories ...

Best Actress: Renee Zellweger looks like a lock for her role in “Judy.”

Best Supporting Actress: Laura Dern should win here, not for being the mother of the Little Women, but for being the glamorous, “take no prisoners” Hollywood divorce lawyer in “Marriage Story.”

Best Actor: Joaquin Phoenix should follow in Heath Ledger’s footsteps by winning an Oscar portraying the Joker. While I am loathe to see this depressing trainwreck of a film garner any accolades, I must grudgingly admit that Phoenix gives a powerful performance. Still not worth seeing the film, however.

Best Supporting Actor: Brad Pitt should run away with this category. His performance definitely IS worth seeing “Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood.”

Best Director: Again this is a race between Sam Mendes for “1917” and Bong Joon Ho for “Parasite.” And again “1917” is the clear favorite and “Parasite” is the dark horse. The Academy has taken to splitting Best Picture and Best Director of late, but I’m going to play it safe and choose Mendes.

Best International Feature Film: “Parasite” should earn its richly-deserved Oscar here. As well as ...

Best Original Screenplay: Look for “Parasite” here. It is definitely very original.

Best Adapted Screenplay: Jojo Rabbit. I would have loved to see Waititi nominated - and even win - for directing, but he will have to settle for winning for his writing. Something tells me he’ll be fine.

Best Cinematography: 1917

Best Makeup and Hairstyling: Bombshell

That’s it for this year. Until next year, save me an aisle seat

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tediousoscars · 5 years

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2018

Predict-o-meter: This year: 8/12; Total: 99/119 (83%)

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and friends beyond the binary: It is time once again to set aside our daily woes and discuss all things Oscar.

This year’s class of 8 Best Picture nominees is extremely solid. There are no real clunkers, but, in my mind there are 4 soaringly great films, 3 solidly good films, and one … problematic film that is both great and not so great. We’ll get to that.

But keep in mind that even though I am using my traditional Contenders/Pretenders bifurcation there are no films below that I would recommend you avoid. They are all very good.

- THE CONTENDERS -

Black Panther. The beauty of this film is that it works so well on so many different levels. If you are simply looking for a blockbuster spectacle to munch popcorn to, you will not be disappointed; it totally works on that level. And even though it is the 18th(!) installment in Marvel Studios’ Cinematic Universe of inter-related films, “Black Panther” may be enjoyed on its own in isolation; if you have never seen another Marvel movie (Really? What is WRONG with you?) you won’t feel at all lost. And that is all well and good; I love a good blockbuster as much as the next guy. But that won’t get you Oscar Nominations. For that, we need to dig a little deeper. On the next level down, it’s just a really good movie. Great characters who are well-developed and three-dimensional, a compelling story told with humor and drama in equal measures, gorgeous cinematography and costumes that bring an imagined world to life, and an all-star cast of talented actors who are clearly giving it their all. The heart and soul of “Black Panther” is the fictional land of Wakanda: a central African nation hit with a meteor in the distant past that provided ancient Wakandans with access to vibranium, a near-magical metal that allowed them to develop advanced technology well before the rest of the world. Technology that they used to hide themselves away while developing ever more advanced weapons and transportation, including the technology that turns their tribal King into the titular super-powered protector. And herein lies the central conflict of the film: A Wakandan spy on assignment in Oakland in the 90s becomes disillusioned by the disparity between the safety and comfort that Wakandans enjoy and the degradation and oppression faced by members of the African Diaspora across the globe. When he is taken out by Wakandan authorities he leaves behind a young son who grows up hell-bent on avenging his father, but also determined to complete his father’s mission of using Wakandan technology to uplift all those of African descent. This isn't the standard “Good vs. Evil” we’ve come to expect from superhero movies. It’s a more nuanced “Isolation vs. Engagement” discussion of the best way to allocate scarce resources for the greater good. At its greatest depth “Black Panther” is a thoughtful exploration of themes of racism and oppression, violence and statecraft, retribution and forgiveness that stands up to critical analysis. In interviews with the cast and crew it is obvious that they were very cognizant of the fact that with Wakanda they were essentially creating from whole cloth an African mythology that could play a role comparable to that of Camelot in the Anglo-Saxon imagination. They took this responsibility very seriously and were determined that everything associated with “Black Panther” be of the highest quality. They succeeded spectacularly. No matter how deeply you choose to look at this film you will not be disappointed. It succeeds on every level.

Bohemian Rhapsody. This story of iconic stadium anthem band Queen and their mercurial frontman, Freddy Mercury, was told with the full cooperation of the surviving band members, and one of their conditions was that it not have an R rating. This has led to some consternation and gnashing of teeth over Mercury’s legendary excesses being watered down. But I thought that the device they used was effective: Rather than show the actual debauchery the film focuses on the morning-after detritus. Mercury staggers blinking through a maze of prone bodies and over-turned furniture, empty glasses and bottles scattered hither and yon, cocaine residue coating every horizontal surface. But the film isn’t primarily about Mercury’s rock star life; it’s about the band and how they worked together and became a worldwide sensation despite significant headwinds - watching the label guys turn up their noses at the eponymous song (soon to become one of the most beloved rock songs of all time) is choice. Everything here is well done. The story unfolds naturally, the performances are all solid, and the insight into the inner workings of the band are illuminating. Yes, they have the unavoidable family squabbles, but for the most part it isn’t about ego, it’s about the music. They fight for their own individual interpretations and priorities, but they all share a common vision of what Queen should be, and that is the organizing principle for their conflicts, at least during the band’s formative period. It’s all entertaining and engaging and good, maybe even very good, but it’s just not great. Until, at the very end, a choice is made by the filmmakers that turns on the after-burners and vaults the film into the stratosphere. After an ill-fated attempt at a solo album, a chastened Mercury beseeches the band to get back together for Live Aid, the bi-continental music festival for African famine relief that was the biggest music event of its era. A typical movie would handle this either with a quick montage of the various songs played in the set, or perhaps, one single entire song. But for this film they recreated Queen’s 20-minute Live Aid set in its entirety; note for note, move for move. And they imbue the performance with the knowledge - not known to the general public at the time - that Freddy Mercury had been diagnosed with AIDS (at a time when this was a death sentence). It is breathtaking. Rami Malek is favored to win Best Actor for his turn as Mercury, and this climatic, thrilling set is a big part of the reason why.

The Favourite. This is not your typical costume period piece about palace intrigue. We are used to tropes in which strong, formidable women connive behind the scenes to manipulate the men in power to do what they want. But this is the court of Queen Anne of England (Olivia Colman), so a woman is already in charge. Or she would be if failing health and mental instabilities didn’t prevent her from being effective. Enter Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough (Rachel Weisz), childhood friend and sometime lover to the Queen, Sarah rules the roost on behalf of the Queen and does her best to steer the ship of state in the direction that she, and her stalwart Duke of a husband, sees as best. And it is all going swimmingly until Sarah’s cousin Abigail (Emma Stone) arrives impoverished and disgraced by some disastrous antics of her father's. Sarah graciously takes Abigail under her wing out of familial loyalty, but is soon out-maneuvered and her young cousin takes her place at the Queen’s side and in her bed. This is all entertaining enough, but there is a fascinating subtext. Though Sarah does love the Queen, it is her over-arching love of Britain that drives her to seek and wield power. By contrast, Abigail has been rich and she has been poor and she has decided that being rich is better. So all of her machinations are aimed solely at personal gain. The interplay between these three characters - Anne, Sarah, and Abigail - is so intricate and expertly portrayed that all three of the female leads have been nominated for their roles. And it’s not just a question of great acting; the film is visually interesting as well. Typical depictions of royal courts in film are brightly lit to highlight the garish colors of the clothes and tapestries that abound. Here, though, the film is shot using mostly natural light. The relatively muted tones and deep shadows serve to augment the feeling of stealth and intrigue that often accompanies a simple passage through a hallway. Great performances, compelling art direction, and a (nominated) screenplay that crackles with snark, “The Favourite” is an enjoyable romp that manages to provoke a few thoughts along the way.

Green Book. At it’s core “Green Book” is a road movie with a well-trodden premiss: Two characters with nothing in common and a healthy disdain for one another are forced by circumstances to drive across the country, mayhem ensues, and they become fast friends. We’ve seen it a hundred times, but I’m not sure we’ve ever seen it done this well. Dr. Don Shirley was fastidious, refined, educated (the “Dr.” comes from multiple Ph.D.s), erudite, and a virtuoso pianist with unique style and flair. Frank Anthony Vallelonga Sr., better known as Tony Lip, was a guido street-brawler from the Bronx with a strong moral code that didn’t always align perfectly with a strict interpretation of the law. He wasn't in the Mob, but he was certainly Mob-adjacent, and could have been made at the drop of a fedora if he’d chosen to. And they were real people. In the film Tony is hired to be driver/fixer to Dr. Shirley on a 2-month concert tour. And right there you have the makings of a perfectly serviceable buddy road trip movie. But wait, there’s more. Dr. Shirley happens to be Black. And gay. And the tour is through the Deep South. And it’s 1962. This is fraught territory, and there is great potential for the film to slip into awful stereotype or maudlin sentimentality. But the screenplay - written in part by Tony’s son Nick - navigates this minefield with deft courage. Tony evolves from a casual, thoughtless racism to a deep respect for Dr. Shirley, both as a man and as an artist. For his part, Dr. Shirley moves from disdain for Tony’s uncouth nature to grudging respect for his tenacity, loyalty, and unique ability to see through a problem to a solution. And eventually respect turns to affection, which is all very predictable, but as with any good road picture it’s about the journey, not the destination. And this journey is laid out in a thoroughly entertaining, natural, and believable fashion (Nick swears that every event depicted in the film actually happened). This is movie-making at its finest.

- THE MISFIT -

Roma. The problem with this film is that from a technical perspective it is a mind-blowing masterpiece, but from a narrative perspective it’s a little slow and sparse, if I’m feeling generous, and downright boring if I’m not. Director Alfonso Cuarón is a shoo-in to win Best Director for his brilliant technical work here. Shot in large-format digital black and white the film looks crisp and clean throughout. But what is more astonishing is the rich, vibrant world that Cuarón uses as a backdrop for his story, which would otherwise be small and fairly claustrophobic. Brass bands randomly march down side strides, people are shot from cannons, and lavish weddings take place in the background of what would otherwise be simple scenes with a few lines of dialog. This takes a 30-second scene of dialog - for which 6 takes could probably be done in an hour - and turns it potentially into a 3-day budget-busting ordeal because of the logistics of getting 150 people in place and properly lit. And he does this over and over again. It must have directors, cinematographers, and producers dropping their jaws, but none of this effort and virtuosity drives the plot forward one millimeter. The largely autobiographical narrative (one of the young boys presumably represents Cuarón as a child) centers around Cleo, an indigenous domestic working and living in the home of a well-off doctor in the Roma neighborhood of Mexico City circa 1970. There is drama as Cleo deals with an unexpected pregnancy and the doctor abandons the family in favor of a young mistress, but the action plays out languidly through a series of “slice of life” vignettes. You learn a lot about the daily routine within the household - putting children to sleep, cleaning up dog poop - but precious little about the inner lives of the characters portrayed. Each year movies are nominated for Best Picture that are not nominated for Best Director. I think a strong case can be made that “Roma” should have reversed this trend. Cuarón’s Best Director nomination is richly deserved, but overall this film is not Best Picture material. It is a movie made for people who make movies. If you are a film student or an aspiring director it is a must-see. But casual movie-goers looking for entertainment should probably look elsewhere.

- THE PRETENDERS -

BlacKkKlansman. “BlacKkKlansman,” like “Green Book,” takes on themes of racism through the recounting of an incredible real-life story. In this case our hero is Ron Stallworth, a young, ambitious detective with the Colorado Springs Police Department. As the Department’s first Black officer, Stallworth is given an assignment to go undercover and attend a campus rally by Kwame Ture, a firebrand leader of the Black Power movement. Finding that he likes undercover work, Stallworth impulsively reaches out to the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan with an eye towards infiltrating the group. Over the phone he plays the part of white supremacist to a tee, but when he finagles a face-to-face meeting he quickly realizes that maybe he hasn’t thought this thing through. With the help of fellow detective Phil “Flip” Zimmerman (Adam Driver in a nominated role), Stallworth embarks on a Cyrano de Bergerac-esque escapade in which he talks to the Klan - including Grand Wizard David Duke - over the phone while Flip meets them in person. Director Spike Lee (nominated) has been known for his fireworks around issues of race in the past, but here he adopts an almost journalistic tone, presenting the story without hyperbole and letting the facts speak for themselves. This sounds laudable, but it actually serves to make the film feel a little … bland. Especially when combined with a very muted performance by John David Washington whose Stallworth always feels like he’s just trying to get through this scene before someone realizes he’s not supposed to be on set. Neither of these issues is enough to tilt the picture over into “bad” territory - it’s definitely interesting and entertaining - but they are enough to kick it out of Best Picture territory.

A Star is Born. There seems to have been a pact made with the Old Gods that in each generation the greatest female performer of her time must remake a version of the 1937 film “A Star is Born” starring Janet Gaynor. In 1954 it was Judy Garland, in 1976 it was Barbra Streisand’s turn, now, in 2018, the mantle falls to Lady Gaga, who was nominated for her efforts. By now the story is familiar: established star at the peak of his fame takes a talented ingénue under his wing only to watch her career take off while his crumbles. Bradley Cooper stars, directs, and worked on the screenplay; he was nominated for his portrayal of the gravel-voiced Jackson Maine, and for the screenplay, but not for his direction. Cooper’s Jack is an alcoholic with a troubled past, but is also a talented singer-songwriter and modern-day troubadour. When Gaga’s Ally - whom he plucked from obscurity singing torch songs in a New York City drag bar - starts to achieve success as his wanes, it is not simple jealousy that drives him off the deep end. He objects to the WAY she achieves success. In one of their first conversations Jack tells Ally, “There are lots of people with talent. But having something to say and being able to say it in a way that makes people listen? THAT’s special.” So when Ally starts writing catchy pop songs and performing on stage with backup dancers (à la Lady Gaga) Jack is perturbed, but is characteristically incapable of expressing his concerns without sounding unsupportive. So he bottles up his feelings and turns to the bottle. Both Cooper and Gaga give fantastic performances and there are several numbers that Gaga performs that are transcendent (I see big things for that girl). It’s definitely a solid film, and Gaga’s songs are worth the price of admission, but it just didn’t rise to the level of greatness in my mind.

Vice. There has been a bit of a hot streak of transformative performances portraying real-life political figures. I’m thinking particularly of Daniel Day-Lewis’ Lincoln and Gary Oldman’s Churchill. But in both of those cases the figure in question had pretty much faded from living memory. Not so with Dick Cheney, George W. Bush’s “Vice” President. Christian Bale (nominated) IS Dick Cheney to such an extent that if it weren’t for scenes depicting a young Cheney early in the film I don’t think I would have been able to identify the performer as Bale. It’s astonishing. And Amy Adams (nominated) is nearly as good as wife Lynne Cheney. But there is more to this film than just an epic performance by the leads. Director Adam McKay made his name with screwball comedies like “Anchorman” and “Step Brothers,” which most decidedly did not garner him Oscar nominations. But he turned a corner with 2015’s “The Big Short,” which did. Now he’s back and nominated again with “Vice” and, as with “The Big Short,” though he is swimming through serious waters he has not forgotten his comedic roots. “Vice” is by turns hilarious and infuriating, sometimes both at once. Given the current state of our politics the W era has taken on a warm glow of nostalgia for a time when, even if we didn’t agree with our leaders, we could sleep safe and secure in the knowledge that at least they weren’t actually agents of a foreign government. But “Vice” dredges up some of the seedier behind-the-scenes aspects to remind us that using Executive Privilege to undermine democracy is sadly nothing new. I probably should have liked “Vice” more than I did - Sam Rockwell’s (nominated) turn as W is not to be missed - but for some reason attempts to use the power of the presidency to subvert the intentions of the Founders just doesn’t seem as quaint and jovial as it once did.

So which SHOULD win?

For me it comes down to “Black Panther” and “Green Book.” Out of a top-to-bottom very strong class these two stand out in my mind as the ones that are really hitting on all cylinders. From direction and cinematography, to acting and art direction, to just straight up story telling, these are the most well-rounded of the bunch. And while I do love me some “Black Panther” (Wakanda forever!) I have to go with “Green Book” for its added layers of emotional resonance.

But which WILL win?

I said above that “Roma” is a movie made for people who make movies. Well … guess who votes for the Oscars? People who make movies. “Green Book” is actually in the running, but appears to be a distant second. I’m going with “Roma,” which would be the first foreign language film in history to win Best Picture.

Best Actress - This appears to be a two-way race between Glenn Close for “The Wife” and Olivia Colman for “The Favourite.” I’m going with Close.

Best Supporting Actress - It appears as though my favorites from “The Favourite” will be shut out, as this seems to be between Regina King for “If Beale Street Could Talk,” and Amy Adams for “Vice.” I’ll take Regina King.

Best Actor - When I saw “Vice” on 12/27/18 I walked out of the theater and tweeted: ‘Bale’s gonna win Best Actor. You heard it here first.’ And I still believe that’s what should happen. And it just might, but now it seems that Rami Malek has the buzz for “Bohemian Rhapsody.” (Did I mention that they shot the epic Live Aid set on THE FIRST DAY OF SHOOTING?) I can’t quibble too much; he was great too. I’m jumping on the Rami Malek bandwagon.

Best Supporting Actor - Mahershala Ali (“Green Book”) will need to clear off some more space on the mantle.

Best Director - Alfonso Cuarón in a runaway. I have no quarrel with this, just with Best Picture.

Best Cinematography - Alfonso Cuarón for “Roma.” See above.

Best Foreign Language Film - This hardly seems fair with “Roma” poised to become the first foreign-language film to actually win Best Picture, but … “Roma.”

Best Animated Feature - “Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.” Seriously, if you haven’t seen this do yourself a huge favor and check it out.

Best Original Song - “Shallow” from “A Star is Born.” As an added bonus the song actually plays a key role in the plot and is performed in its entirety in the film.

Best Original Screenplay - I am really pulling for “Green Book,” because it’s a great story, but also a great story-behind-the-story, with Tony Lip’s son penning the screenplay. But it looks like “The Favourite” will win.

Best Visual Effects - “Black Panther” is unlikely to win Best Picture, but Marvel should take home an Oscar here for “Avengers: Infinity War.” (Actual winner: “First Man”)

That does it for this year. Until next year keep your popcorn warm and your soda cold.

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tediousoscars · 6 years

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Predict-o-meter: This year: 4/4; Total: 91/107 (85%)

2017

It is notable, but not completely uncommon, for an actor to appear in two different movies nominated for Best Picture, but this year there was an embarrassment of riches on this front:

Lucas Hedges: 3 Billboards and Lady Bird

Timothée Chalamet: Call Me By Your Name (nominated) and Lady Bird

Bradley Whitford: Get Out and The Post

Caleb Landry Jones: 3 Billboards and Get Out

Tracy Letts: The Post and Lady Bird

Kathryn Newton: 3 Billboards and Lady Bird

Nick Searcy: 3 Billboards and The Shape of Water

But on this list Michael Stewart Stuhlbarg takes the cake by appearing in THREE Best Picture nominees: Call Me By Your Name, The Post, and The Shape of Water.

It was also a big year for the Battle of Dunkirk, which got it’s own picture, but also features prominently in Darkest Hour.

So let’s get to it:

- THE CONTENDERS -

Darkest Hour. Set entirely within the month of May, 1940, “Darkest Hour” chronicles the resignation of British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, the appointment of Winston Churchill as his successor, the fall of Belgium and Holland to Nazi Germany, the Battle of Dunkirk, and Churchill’s iconic ‘Never Surrender’ speech to Parliament. It was a busy month. Now seen as a cherished and heroic figure, it is interesting to see Churchill portrayed as a difficult and conflicted man who only got the job as a distasteful compromise. The center of this film is the towering performance by Gary Oldman as Churchill, who is a shoo-in to win Best Actor. Just the physical transformation alone is remarkable (kudos to the (nominated) makeup department) but he also nails the speech patterns and mannerisms, and imbues Churchill with a humanity that is often lacking in strictly historical accounts. Careening from private doubts to public obstinance, Oldman’s Churchill proves once again that heroes are great not because they are perfect, but because they overcome their flaws. A fascinating look at the behind-the-scenes political maneuverings in Britain in the early days of the war.

Get Out. This remarkable film is essentially a horror movie for people who hate horror movies. Ostensibly a ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?’ story about a young black man (Daniel Kaluuya in a nominated role) going home to meet his white girlfriend’s rich parents, things just keep getting weirder and more unexpected as the film progresses. It is difficult to talk about the plot without spoilers, but along the way both biting satire and deep insight into race relations in modern America are provided. In general it falls more at the ‘suspense thriller’ end of the spectrum than the ‘blood and gore’ end. At turns funny and surprising, fast-paced and air tight, this is a tour-de-force debut for writer and director Jordan Peele, who received richly deserved nominations for both. Highly recommended.

Phantom Thread. Reynolds Jeremiah Woodcock (played with impressive range by the always-marvelous Daniel Day-Lewis (nominated)) lives a life of fastidious elegance as a fashion designer - who’s clientele tends toward royalty - dressing the créme-de-la-créme of postwar London society. He habitually takes on muses - younger women who live with him for some months or years - and when he tires of them he simply instructs his equally fastidious sister and business partner to ask them to leave. The film opens as he discards one such muse and discovers another: Alma, a foreign girl working as a waitress. The bulk of the film catalogs their tumultuous relationship as Alma tries to assert herself as something more than a temporary accessory. Day-Lewis’ portrayal of Reynolds is almost as impeccable as Reynolds himself: Not really likable, but with clearly recognizable good qualities, it is a beautifully nuanced performance from a master craftsman. Eventually Alma discovers a ploy (which I won’t ruin for you) that makes Reynolds realize he needs her, and leads to a marriage proposal. When their marriage starts to sour Alma returns to the ploy, but this time with Reynolds’ willing participation. It is at that point that you realize that this is the most high concept portrayal of submission and sado-masochism that you have ever seen. Engaging and wonderfully acted, this is a thoroughly enjoyable film.

The Post. There was a time, not too long ago, when the idea of the President of the United States openly battling the media and undermining the concept of a free press was revelatory and shocking. “The Post” is nominally the story of the publication of the leaked Pentagon Papers detailing decades of dissembling on the part of multiple administrations concerning the Viet Nam war. But it was the New York Times that did most of the heavy lifting on that story. This film is really about the transformation of The Washington Post from a small, family-run hometown paper into the investigative juggernaut that it is today. This transformation was shepherded by Kay Graham, granddaughter of the founder. Her father left the business to her husband, but when he committed suicide she was thrust into a role that she never expected or wanted, but one she felt obligated to shoulder out of strong family loyalty. Graham is portrayed by Meryl Streep, who received her now-traditional perennial nomination for her troubles. As always, the nomination (she won’t win) is richly deserved: Streep’s Graham is really the only character in the film who progresses and grows. And Streep captures her journey from a timid soul wondering what she is doing to an iron-willed publisher upholding the First Amendment with her customary style and grace. It is films like this, where he eschews the fantasy and special effects, that really demonstrates that at his core Steven Spielberg is a master storyteller. His use of actual audio from Nixon’s taped phone conversations is particularly effective. But it is a sad commentary on our current state of politics that an impassioned plea on behalf of freedom of the press can cause me to tear up. ‘The press was to serve the governed, not the governors.’ Indeed. Do not miss this movie.

The Shape of Water. If you’ve ever wondered what Art Direction (now called Production Design) means in the film industry, then go see this movie. “The Shape of Water” has a unique and consistent ‘look and feel’ that is stunning to behold and serves the purpose of informing the viewer - without exposition or narration - that the action takes place in the not-quite-real world. On top of that add a cast of characters that are quirkily written and wonderfully acted, and you are well on your way to a great movie. The plot, which requires a bit more willingness to suspend disbelief than normal, centers around an unlikely romance between a mute human woman and a humanoid aquatic creature. (Comics fans take note: We are assured that this is NOT a Hellboy prequel about Abe Sapien. No, really.) All of the characters and performances are great, but Michael Shannon steals the show with his portrayal of Richard Strickland, the G-man who is the film’s chief antagonist. Part Eliot Ness, part Agent K, Shannon’s portrayal of Strickland somehow encompasses everything we love and everything we hate about Federal agents - sometimes simultaneously. Beautiful to look at, with performances that must be experienced to be believed, and a plot that never quite becomes TOO silly, “The Shape of Water” establishes Guillermo del Toro (nominated) as a director to be reckoned with.

Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri. The core story revolves around the rape and murder of a teenaged girl, and the failure of the local police to apprehend the offender. But there is so much more going on here. Race relations, domestic violence, and police brutality all share the stage with free speech, vigilante justice, love and redemption. There is a lot to gossip about in the small town of Ebbing, and - like all small towns - everybody knows everything. The beauty of this film is its deft portrayal of complex relationships. Battle lines are drawn and re-drawn, sides are switched, people are hurt and then forgive, and everything is complicated with 12 sides to every story. Writer and director Martin McDonagh (nominated for the screenplay, but not as director) manages to keep all of the balls in the air with skill and humor - extremely dark humor, but humor nonetheless. And Frances McDormand is remarkable as Mildred Hayes, the mother of the victim and the force behind the eponymous billboards. Passionate and driven, she is a taker of no shit and a giver of no fucks. Her performance runs the gamut from badass action hero to caring friend and mother - sometimes in the same scene. Throw in Peter Dinklage as an unrequited love interest and how can you go wrong? Not a light-hearted family romp, but well worth your attention, “3 Billboards” may raise more questions than it answers, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

- THE PRETENDERS -

Call Me By Your Name. This is a beautiful, vacuous movie about beautiful, intellectual people to whom nothing bad ever happens. Set in the 80s for no particular reason (though I suspect they may have been trying to avoid cell phones), the film depicts a world where college professors summer in lavish Italian villas inherited by their beautiful wives, and hire gorgeous research assistants to come from America to live with them while they do. These people have prolonged, off-the-cuff discussions of the etymology of the word apricot, and gather to hear medieval French poetry read aloud, only to discover that the only copy on hand is a German translation and so the reader must translate to English on the fly. You know, just like you and me. And if said research assistant just happens to sleep with their teenaged son, well, no harm done. We’ve all been there, right? This is a pure exploration of desire totally divorced from the grungy consequences that normally attend such things in the real world. The assistant, played by Armie Hammer, is not punished for his statutory rape, the lad himself (Timothée Chalamet in a nominated role) suffers no ill effects other than a good cry, which his father counsels him to cherish, and even the girl from Paris - whom the lad fumbles with and discards whilst dealing with his whirlwind romance - forgives him and promises lifelong friendship. This film is beautiful to look at but completely void of dramatic tension and ultimately boring, unless you are looking for tips on how to masturbate with an apricot.

Dunkirk. After the one-two punch of “Inception” (*gag*) and “The Dark Knight Rises” I broke up with Christopher Nolan. I said, ‘I’m sorry, Christopher, we’ll always have “Memento,” but I just can’t do this anymore.’ So I had no intention of seeing Dunkirk … until it was nominated. Visually the film is impressive. The cinematography and art direction admirably capture the look and feel of a stormy late spring on the northern French coast in 1940, and there are some amazing shots of ships sinking and planes crashing that look real, but can’t be. Where the movie falls flat is on the narrative side. The story is told as a series of independent, barely-intertwined vignettes. Nolan appears to be going for an up-close-and-personal approach that puts you in the shoes of the principals. But with no over-arching ‘big picture’ narrative these become a bit of a jumbled mess. Also odd is the lonely and sparse feeling of the film. Despite an Admiral’s claim that ‘There are 400 thousand men on that beach!’ every wide shot of the beach features huge swaths of empty sand. It feels more like a seaside resort in the off season than a desperate crush of humanity fleeing an implacable foe. So while it is not as terrible as I feared it would be it is still fatally flawed. Please, Christopher, just stop.

Lady Bird. There are some movies that land in the Pretenders category because they are objectively terrible (I’m looking at you, “Inception”), there are some that are simply not to my personal taste, and there are some that are perfectly good - even recommendable - films that simply don’t rise to the level of Best Picture nominee in my extremely humble opinion. “Lady Bird” falls into the latter category. Christine ‘Lady Bird’ McPherson is a high school senior from the wrong side of the tracks in Sacramento, CA. She battles constantly with her mother, who is stressed over the family finances, and is obsessed with eschewing the local UCs and heading to New York for college (the grass is always greener on the other side of the continent). She successfully hatches a plot to get in with the rich kids, and co-opts her father into secretly applying for financial aid for East Coast schools behind her mother’s back. Oh and she’s determined to find the perfect boyfriend and lose her virginity. Her mother, naturally, finds out about the ruse, and mayhem ensues. Along the way she discovers that the best friend she abandoned to join the cool crowd is her true friend, her mother really loves her, and boys are, well, just boys. There is nothing here that we haven’t seen in a John Hughes movie (or six), but it’s all very well done and thoroughly enjoyable. It’s solidly a good movie; it just doesn’t rise to the level of greatness.

Predictions:

Best Picture is a tight race between 3 Billboards and The Shape of Water. I loved them both. I would say 3 Billboards is a better movie, but Shape is a better film. As I let you puzzle over that, I’m going with “The Shape of Water.”

Best Director: Guillermo Del Toro in a runaway.

Best Actress: Frances McDormand for 3 Billboards.

Best Actor: Gary Oldman in the safest bet this year.

And that’s all I have time for. Maybe SOME year I’ll actually prepare these things further in advance.

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tediousoscars · 7 years

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2016

Predict-o-meter: This year: 7/8; Total: 87/103 (84%)

It is not that unusual for a movie to get nominated that I had absolutely no interest in seeing and so have to drag myself to. It doesn’t happen every year, but typically no more that 3 or 4 years go by without it happening. Sometimes I am pleasantly surprised and end up loving the film (“The Social Network”), but more typically my worst fears are confirmed (“War Horse,” almost everything by Scorsese). However, I can’t recall a single year in which TWO movies were nominated that elicited not the slightest interest in me. Until this year. This year there were THREE. And while one of them did prove to be a pleasant surprise, the other two decidedly did not. I won’t say which ones, but see if you can tell from the reviews.

But before we get started we have to stop for a moment to give a shout out to Janelle Monáe and Mahershala Ali, who appear together in not one, but TWO films nominated for Best Picture: “Hidden Figures” and “Moonlight.” And while Mahershala was nominated for his strong work in “Moonlight,” it was Janelle who almost stole the show in “Hidden Figures.” Kudos!

Now let’s get to it.

- THE CONTENDERS -

Fences. Two towering performances from Denzel Washington and Viola Davis (both nominated - though how Davis’ role could be construed as Supporting rather than Leading is beyond me) are the pillars holding this wonderful film aloft. Set in 1950s Pittsburgh, “Fences” is the story of Troy Maxson (Washington), who is an extremely complicated man. Wracked by guilt over surviving on a pension his brother receives after suffering a head wound in the war that left him severely mentally challenged, frustrated over being a baseball star in the Negro Leagues just a few years before Jackie Robinson, and infuriated over the racism that holds a black ex-con down, there is a hardness about him that is undeniable. He says that the only good thing that ever happened to him was his wife Rose (Davis). But he is also an entertainingly loquacious storyteller, whom his best friend says must have a bit of Uncle Remus in him. Troy is an emotional storm with gale-force winds and churning seas. But Rose is the steadfast lighthouse, unflinching in the face of the tumult, always providing a beacon. Washington, who was also nominated for his directing, nicely captures the claustrophobia of the stage-play source material. Most of the action occurs in the two small downstairs rooms of their modest home, or in the backyard that is little more than a patio. We are exploring inner landscapes here. Troy’s snappy patter is entertaining enough to justify the price of admission, but the nuanced exploration of life and love, human strength and weakness, desire and motivation make this a masterpiece.

Hell or High Water. Part modern-day Western, part caper movie, part film noir, this movie is rollicking good fun. The Howard brothers are on a bank-robbing spree. With a purpose. They are robbing very specific banks to raise a very specific amount of money for a very specific reason. Because they only clear a few thousand dollars each time, and all of the banks are in the same state (Texas) the Feds have no interest in the case. So it falls to crusty old Marcus Hamilton, a Texas Ranger stereotypically weeks from retirement, and his half-Mexican, half-Indian partner Alberto Parker to run them to ground. Sounds simple, right? And it could have been, but Taylor Sheridan’s (nominated) screenplay is too smart for that. Ben Foster is sublime in the role of Tanner Howard, the ne’er-do-well, hell-raising ex-con brawn to brother Toby Howard’s brains. Tanner is a fuck up, and he knows it, but he is addicted to the adrenaline rush of the outlaw lifestyle. He sees this caper as his last chance to do something good (while still raising hell) by helping brother Toby (played by Chris Pine) save their father’s ranch and the newly-discovered oil there-under. Jeff Bridges was nominated for his role as Ranger Hamilton, which is essentially a reprisal of his role in “True Grit.” In fact, it is easy to imagine that Ranger Hamilton is the great grandson of Rooster Cogburn. The brothers’ scheme is ingenious, and hinges upon an epic (if not heroic) last stand by Tanner, and the coda in which Bridges’ Hamilton confronts Pine’s Toby to say that he knows Toby did it, but can’t prove it is pure bridled machismo.

Hidden Figures. There was a time, not that long ago, when the word ‘computer’ referred to a person, as in ‘someone who computes.’ During the early days of the space race, as an increasingly nervous America watched as Russia put first a satellite, then a dog, then a man into space, NASA employed quite a number of computers to check and re-check the calculations needed to determine the trajectories of spacecraft. These computers tended to be women, who today would be engineers, but at the time had no such option. And amongst these women were a cadre of ~20-30 black women stationed at Langley in Virginia, which at the time in the early 60s was still a segregated state. “Hidden Figures” is the triumphant story of these women and the incredible obstacles they had to overcome. The film focuses on three real-life figures: Mary Jackson (played by Janelle Monáe), a budding engineer, Dorothy Vaughn (Octavia Spencer in a nominated roled), who became an early specialist in the machines we now call computers, and particularly Katherine Johnson (played by Taraji Henson). The Space Task Group is charged with properly calculating the launch and (crucially) re-entry parameters for orbital human spaceflight. It is a pressure cooker run by a demanding taskmaster with a reputation of burning through computers on an almost weekly basis. When a need arises for an expertise in analytic geometry the East Area Computers (the white girls) have no suitable candidate, so they ask the ‘colored’ girls of the West Area Computers for help. Enter Katherine Johnson. She takes on the job with a brilliant mind and an indomitable spirit. She is clearly the smartest person in the room, and yet she has to run a half-mile across campus back to the West Area to use the bathroom because that’s the only place that has ‘colored’ rest rooms. In a bit of poetic justice near the end of the film, a white male engineer must make the same sprint to find her because John Glenn has demanded that Katherine personally verify the re-entry calculations after the IBM machine that replaced her delivered inconsistent results. This movie has indomitable human spirit, unbridled American patriotism (that refreshingly has nothing to do with war), and, of course, sharp lessons on Civil Rights history all wrapped up in a package that is just good, clean fun. You should really stop whatever it is you are doing right now and go see this film.

Lion. Like all little brothers, 5yo Saroo idolizes his older brother Gudu. They eke out a hardscrabble existence with their mother and baby sister in the back of beyond of rural India. They are desperately poor, and they know it, but they have a loving family and are generally happy. While trying to tag along with Gudu on his night job, Saroo becomes locked in an empty passenger car on a train being relocated cross country without stopping. Two days and 750 miles later, he is in the urban bustle of Calcutta, which might as well be a different planet since few people speak his native Hindi. After some harrowing adventures he winds up in an orphanage where he is adopted by a loving and earnest middle-class couple in Tasmania. Fast-forward 25 years, and the adult Saroo is seemingly well-adjusted and integrated into his adopted culture. While at a party at the house of some Indian friends he happens across a plate of jalebis, a dessert he had craved as a child but could never afford. This triggers a flood of memories from his lost childhood and launches him on an all-consuming and ultimately successful quest to find his birth mother. “Lion” is a wonderful film based on an amazing true story. And while it could have been a simple, manipulative tear-jerker, director Garth Davis delivers a film with impressive emotional complexity. Sunny Pawar is amazing as the young Saroo, and Dev Patel was nominated for his role as the adult Saroo, as was Nicole Kidman - in her native accent! - for her role as Sue, Saroo’s adoptive Australian mother. You’ll enjoy this long, harrowing journey, but keep your hanky handy for the eventual reunion between mother and son.

Moonlight. This is a coming-of-age story set in a world that John Hughes never imagined. If you had to sum up Chiron (aka “Little,” aka “Black”) in one word, that word would be ‘awkward.’ Growing up in a rough part of Miami with a missing father and a (literal) crack whore mother (Naomie Harris in a nominated role), bullied at school and unwelcome at home, 9yo Little’s life is characterized by constant fear, stress, and uncertainty. Little is sullen and withdrawn; the only kid who seems to understand him is Kevin, a breezy charmer, and the only remotely positive father figure he has is Juan (Mahershala Ali, also nominated), a crack dealer with a kind girlfriend who sort of unofficially adopts him. Fast-forward to the painfully awkward high school teen years: he now tries to go by his given name, Chiron, but has been dubbed Black by Kevin. Juan has been killed (though his girlfriend Teresa still lets Chiron crash when his mother has “company”), and the bullies are still omnipresent. To this point the film is not characterized so much by action, but rather by the seething, building tension associated with trying to constantly avoid action. Something’s gotta give. After a fumbling (dare I say awkward?) sexual encounter with Kevin the bullies force Kevin to beat Chiron up. This is the catalyst that causes Chiron to snap, leading to the sort of violent retributive outburst that makes movie audiences cheer, but lands young black men in jail. Fast-forward a decade. Now an adult, he has emerged from prison, moved to Atlanta, and adopted the persona – and the pimped-out ride – of Juan, and embraced Kevin’s nickname for him, Black. We see him making the rounds to check on his subordinate pushers and working out to maintain his thug life body. He is still sullen and withdrawn, but hard. This all changes with an unexpected phone call from Kevin, whom he hasn’t heard from since leaving Miami. In a truly breath-taking piece of acting, Trevante Rhodes – as the adult Black – brilliantly captures the mannerisms and even the intonations of the younger actors who play Little (Alex R. Hibbert) and Chiron (Ashton Sanders). We see a hardened criminal pick up the phone, but as soon as he hears Kevin’s voice subtle changes sweep over his face and he reverts – unconsciously and unintentionally – to the troubled, awkward youth he was. It is an Oscar-worthy performance, but unfortunately he does not get enough screen time to warrant a nomination. Overall this is a difficult film, but it is finely crafted, almost painfully heartfelt, and presents such a unique perspective that it is definitely worth the investment.

- THE PRETENDERS -

Arrival. This is a refreshing new take on the “alien invasion” genre. What is most unique is the aliens’ motivation behind their arrival, which I won’t give away but is fascinating. In fact, it’s difficult to discuss the plot at all without spoilers, but I will say that it’s timey wimey enough for the most ardent Doctor Who fan. Most of this movie is very well done. The aliens are extremely alien (Director Denis Villeneuve (nominated) understands that your imagination is always more frightening than reality, so he keeps his aliens shrouded in a thick fog and only fleetingly, partially visible) while the humans are annoyingly human (there’s a pretty standard schism between the “let’s talk to them” faction and the “blow them up” faction). An overall tone of realism is maintained so that the disbelief that must be willingly suspended is minimized, and the always-wonderful Amy Adams departs from her quirky, perky safezone to deliver a solid performance as a serious scientist. I do have a quibble, however. The entire plot of the film revolves around the written language of the aliens, which is so complex it seems almost magical. But the way in which the humans decipher it is given short shrift. There is boundless opportunity here for dramatic tension with the scientists making furtive steps, false starts, and brilliant breakthroughs, but it just sort of … happens. There’s not even a montage of long hours hunched over a computer or scribbling on a white board. Though this seems like a tragically missed opportunity it should not prevent you from enjoying this film that breathes new life into a fairly tired old genre.

Hacksaw Ridge. This is an extremely mediocre movie about an extremely fascinating and compelling true story. Desmond Doss (Andrew Garfield in a nominated role) was the first conscientious objector to be awarded the Medal of Honor for his efforts as an unarmed medic during the battle of Okinawa in WWII. After confronting his drunken father (who was beating his mother) with a pistol, Desmond makes a promise to God to never touch a gun again. This conviction is challenged when his patriotism compels Desmond to enlist after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Despite his intentions of being a medic his superior officers try to force Desmond to train with a rifle during basic training. His steadfast refusal leads to hazing, beatings, and nearly lands him in prison. He is eventually allowed to serve, and after his battalion is chased off the titular ridge Doss remains behind alone and drags 75 wounded men to safety while constantly dodging enemy soldiers. The problem with the film is that every aspect is hyper-romanticized, from the rough-housing of the Doss brothers as boys, to the too-cute-by-half courtship of Desmond and his wife-to-be. Even the drunken excesses of his father seem cliche and rote. The Japanese are depicted as unstoppable killing machines with neither souls nor honor (who knew director Mel Gibson (nominated) had issues with racial stereotypes?) and the battle scenes are shot in operatic slow motion in which even the blood and the mud are made to look Just Right. Garfield’s turn as Doss is strong, but I’m not sure it’s Oscar-worthy, and there are also a couple strong performances by actors playing against type: Hugo Weaving is convincingly tortured as the drunken father, and Vince Vaughn is surprisingly good as the obligatory tough-as-nails sergeant. Overall the film is watchable and the story is almost strong enough to overcome the directorial flaws. But not quite.

La La Land. This is a starry-eyed love letter to Los Angeles, both the physical city and the dreams of success and stardom that inhabit it. The story is engaging and well-crafted, the sumptuous cinematography makes it look as though the entire film was shot during the Golden Hour, and the acting is superb. The scenes in which Emma Stone – as struggling actress Mia – auditions for various roles are tours de force. The film is also an adoring homage to the MGM musicals of the 50s, and herein lies the problem: Stone and co-star Ryan Gosling can’t sing or dance. I mean, they’re not tone deaf and club-footed or anything, but neither of them could make the chorus line of the worst show on Broadway. The singing is at the level of a high school musical (no, not “High School Musical”), and as for dancing, if they were on Dancing with the Stars they would not be expected to survive past the third episode. But no one seems to care! I even read one review that claimed that this was a clever choice because their characters aren’t stars … yet! Excuse me, but generally talent leads to fame, not the other way around. It’s a shame because there really is a lot to love about this movie. If you can overlook this (glaring, obvious) flaw you will really enjoy it. But that thumping sound you’ll hear is Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers whirling dervishly in their graves.

Manchester by the Sea. We are introduced to Lee Chandler as a socially-maladapted loaner with anger management issues. Severe anger management issues. As the story unfolds we learn through flashbacks that Lee - played with understated intensity by Casey Affleck (nominated) - was once the epitome of the happily-married, blue-collar father, until tragedy struck. Unimaginable, life-shattering tragedy. That is the past, which informs the present, but the current tragedy is the sudden - but not totally unexpected - death of Lee’s brother Joe from a congenital heart condition. This leaves Lee as the guardian of his 16yo nephew, Patrick, a role for which (he is self-aware enough to understand) he is completely unsuited. What follows is an hour or so of stressful bickering as two guys who have suffered loss and who have feelings that they can’t comprehend, much less express, try to live together. In the end Lee manages to extract himself from the situation more or less gracefully, and return to his previous life. Still socially-maladapted, still a loner, but perhaps with slightly less severe anger management issues. The film is well acted, director Kenneth Lonergan (nominated) manages the pacing and the flashbacks skillfully, and the muted lighting captures the quiet desperation of New England in winter perfectly. But Lee’s character does not move an inch through the narrative: he is exactly the same person at the beginning and end of the film. And the film’s central tenet - that blue-collar guys in New England are not in touch with their feelings - is hardly revelatory.

So which SHOULD win?

I really loved all of the films in the Contenders category above, but Hidden Figures stands out as the one that not only elicited the most complex emotional response, but also the only one that I really want to watch again. Seriously go see it.

But which WILL win?

Though it boggles my mind, La La Land looks like a shoo-in for Best Picture. I really just don’t get it. Moonlight is a dark horse here, but is running a very distant second.

Best Actress - Emma Stone for La La Land. Note that it isn’t for Best Singer.

Best Actor - This is an interesting race between Casey Affleck for Manchester by the Sea and Denzel Washington for Fences. In my mind Denzel gave a much stronger performance with much greater emotional range, but I think Casey Affleck will win.

Best Supporting Actress - Viola Davis wins going away for Fences. Well deserved.

Best Supporting Actor - Mahershala Ali for Moonlight.

Best Director - Damien Chazelle for La La Land. I mean, the DIRECTION didn’t suck.

Best Adapted Screenplay - Look for Moonlight to squeak in here.

Best Cinematography - La La Land. This is probably the only category that it actually deserves to win. It is gorgeous.

And that’s all I have time for because I am so late! Until next year …

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tediousoscars · 8 years

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2015

Predict-o-meter: This year: 10/13; Total: 80/95 (84%)

Are you ready for some OSCARS???!?!?!???

Another eight-film class, like last year, but not nearly as strong. While all of them are good movies, several are clearly not Best Picture material. Which is odd when you consider some of the films left out:

The Hateful Eight - Look I know Tarantino is kind of a love him or hate him polarizing figure, but he makes great movies and his latest is no exception.

Joy - Brought to you by the same team that was behind Silver Linings Playbook the snub of this quirky feel-good flick is a bit of a head scratcher.

Ex Machina - One of my favorite films of the year by far, Ex Machina suffered from a poor marketing strategy. Faced with the difficulty of fitting the film into a neat and tidy box, the marketers chose to bill it as a sci-fi/horror story, which I think put off the film’s core audience of smart, thoughtful technophiles. Plus the April release date didn’t help. This film is not what you expect and is not like anything you’ve seen. I give it my highest recommendation.

But now onto the actual nominees …

-THE CONTENDERS -

The Big Short. This would make an excellent double feature with The Wolf of Wall Street. While Wolf depicts the gluttonous party of wealth and excess that dominated Wall Street in the 80s and 90s, Short is the story of how the party came crashing to an end in ’07 & ’08. Based on actual events and real people it is a gripping story of recent events that affected virtually everyone on the planet. The filmmakers use some nonstandard tricks to move the plot forward to great effect. There are sidebars in which celebrities explain some of the thornier nuances of credit swap derivatives in entertaining fashion, and the characters occasionally break the 4th wall to point out how the current action either does - or does not - comport to the historical record. Christian Bale (nominated) and Steve Carrell lead an excellent cast through a story that is both compelling and informative. At a time when a major theme in our political discourse is the inchoate rage of the electorate, The Big Short deftly explains what they are so mad about - and why they are correct to be so. It should be required viewing.

The Martian. This is the film that Gravity desperately wanted to be, but failed at miserably: A stunning space rescue thriller. But while the scientific underpinnings of Gravity were laughably inept (even by Hollywood’s lax standards), The Martian is meticulously researched and thoroughly plausible. In the not-too-distant future NASA is in the midst of the Ares Project: A multi-mission manned exploration of Mars. During Ares 3 a storm threatens to topple the crew’s escape vehicle, forcing them to evacuate. But as they rush to the ship botanist Mark Watney (Matt Damon in a nominated role) is swept away into the martian night. Unable to receive either communications or vital signs from Mark, and with the rest of the crew at risk, the commander decides to blast off and leave Mark for dead. This first-act setup is blown through with impressive efficiency, leaving us to savor the meat of the movie: Mark’s struggle to survive for four years (while a rescue mission is mounted) on a barren planet with only a year’s worth of supplies. In one line Mark brilliantly summarizes the entire film … and presumably launches an entire generation of scientific careers: “In the face of overwhelming odds, I'm left with only one option: I'm gonna have to science the shit out of this.” And he does. In a manner that is riveting, entertaining, inspiring and utterly, humanly, scientifically believable. In a brilliant narrative device Mark essentially narrates the action in the form of a video log that he keeps for posterity. This allows him to candidly and honestly address his innermost thoughts and feelings to “the audience” without technically breaking the fourth wall. It’s an effective device that adds to your emotional investment in Mark’s plight. This is top-notch moviemaking.

The Revenant. For anyone who harbors romantic notions of being a mountain man in the wild west of the early 1800s The Revenant should serve as an effective antidote. Life as depicted in The Revenant was - as Hobbes would say - nasty, brutish, and short. Inspired by (too many liberties have been taken to say “based upon”) the real-life story of Hugh Glass, The Revenant recounts a tale of a man on a fur trapping expedition who is mauled by a bear and left for dead. Surviving against all odds, Glass (Leonardo DiCaprio in a nominated role) embarks on an ultimately successful quest to wreak vengeance upon the man who not only abandoned him, but killed his half-Pawnee son (the real Glass offered forgiveness rather than vengeance, and had no son). It’s amazing to think that the same man - Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu - is behind both The Revenant and last year’s Birdman. Where Birdman was a whimsical look at inner turmoil, The Revenant is a steely-eye, graphically gruesome treatise on unimaginable physical torment. There is a Tarantino-esque amount of blood and gore in this film, but where Tarantino’s bloodbaths are campy and cartoonish, Inarritu’s are heave-inducingly realistic. The cinematography is gorgeous and the performances are uniformly strong. Everyone is raving about Leo, but for my money Tom Hardy (also nominated) steals the show with his portrayal of Fitzgerald - the object of Glass’s revenge. Always beautiful and never boring, this is an excellent film. Just don’t watch it on a full stomach.

Room. This is such an odd, problematic, captivating little film. I love this movie. Joy Newsome was kidnapped off the street as a 17yo girl and held captive in a 11x11ft shed with rudimentary facilities, no windows, and a skylight. The film starts seven years after this event with Joy still living in the same space - dubbed Room - with her 5yo son Jack, who has never left Room. Joy - now known simply as Ma - has a single purpose in life: Provide some semblance of a meaningful life for her son. This task is difficult enough due to their bizarre circumstances, but is complicated further by the periodic visits of her captor - dubbed Old Nick - who is temperamental and abusive (obviously). Jack’s view of the world consists of Room and TV. Only Room is real; the world depicted on TV is 2D and make-believe. Old Nick travels between Room and TV using magic. Shortly after his 5th birthday Ma begins to try to convince Jack of the reality of a world outside Room in order to hatch an escape plot. Jack’s obstinate refusal to believe in anything outside Room is heartbreaking but completely understandable given his experience. While the story of their escape and re-integration into society is compelling, this film is driven forward by the performances of Brie Larson as Ma (nominated) and most of all Jacob Tremblay as Jack. This is quite possibly the best performance by a child actor that I have ever seen. Not only is he a thoroughly believable 5yo - by turns silly, adorable, and infuriating - but his internal emotional struggle as he leaves behind the only world he has ever known in favor of one with unfathomable breadth and variety is utterly, viscerally convincing. Whether this is because Tremblay is an acting prodigy or director Lenny Abrahamson (nominated) is an expert child wrangler is unclear, but however it happened this is a performance that must been seen to be believed.

-THE PRETENDERS -

Bridge of Spies. Penned by the Coen Brothers and helmed by Spielberg, I had great expectations for this film. And while it is definitely good, it is not great. A historical thriller from the height of the Cold War, Bridge of Spies is the story of James Donovan (Tom Hanks in a nominated role) - an insurance lawyer who was selected - seemingly at random - for the unenviable task of defending Rudolf Abel, who is suspected of being a Soviet spy. Expected to mount a cursory defense for the sake of appearances, Donovan actually takes the case all the way to the Supreme Court. Due in part to this zeal, Donovan is later tapped to negotiate a prisoner exchange with the Soviets, trading Abel for U2 pilot Francis Gary Powers, who was shot down over Soviet territory and captured. The performances are strong - particularly Mark Rylance, who was nominated for his portrayal of Abel - the direction is deft, and the art direction skillfully evokes the panic of East Berlin as the Wall went up. And while there is a bit of dramatic tension surrounding the exchange itself, the film lacks the visual flair and inventive storytelling that we have come to expect from Spielberg.

Brooklyn. If I had to pick one word to describe this film it would be “sweet.” In fact, this film is so sweet that my eyeballs developed diabetes while watching it. In the world of Brooklyn the girls are clean-cut, earnest, and well-meaning and the boys are respectful gentlemen. The greatest challenge is convincing a boy to marry you, and the evil arch-villain is a little old bitty who is the town gossip. Set in the 50s, Brooklyn is the story of Eilis (pronounced AYlish) Lacey, an Irish girl with no prospects, who moves to Brooklyn after a kindly priest arranges a job and a room in a boarding house. She meets a nice Italian boy and is well on her way to living happily ever after when she is called back home to Ireland by the unexpected death of her sister. Having left a meek wallflower, she returns as a glamorous woman of the world and is forced to choose between the familiar environs of her birthplace and her new life in America. Brooklyn is essentially nostalgia crystallized and refined for mainlining directly into your brainhole. It’s pretty to look at and entertaining, the actors are all fresh-faced and clean-scrubbed (Saoirse (no clue how THAT's pronounced) Ronan was nominated for her turn as Eilis), and the cinematography is gorgeous. But it’s all just a little too … sweet.

Mad Max: Fury Road. This is a big summer popcorn blockbuster. It is visually stunning and is literally non-stop, pulse-pounding action. The sparse use of CGI effects lends a gritty realism to the endless car chase battle scenes - you will see vehicles you can’t adequately describe destroyed in ways you can’t possibly imagine. And there’s even a nice feminist twist with lots of strong female characters: if you’ve been dying to see ninja biker grannies then this is the film for you. But there’s no plot - the plot can literally be summarized as WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE … OMG WE GOTTA GO BACK! - and no character development. Which is totally fine for a big summer popcorn blockbuster; it’s just not fine for a Best Picture nominee. But I will be the first to admit that Guitar Guy should have his own HBO series.

Spotlight. In 2001, when this film is set, the issue of pedophile priests was known, but was largely thought to be a few isolated incidents. Spotlight was a team of investigative reporters at the Boston Globe who did deep dives - often lasting a year or more - into complicated stories. Against the headwinds of a local Boston establishment dominated by the Catholic Church, the Spotlight team uncovered the systematic shuffling of offending priests from parish to parish, as well as the complicity of the Church hierarchy in covering up the issue. In an amazing cast featuring Micheal Keaton, Rachel McAdams (nominated), Liev Schreiber, Stanley Tucci, and Billy Crudup, Mark Ruffalo (also nominated) stands out and shows that he is not just a movie star, but is also an actor. While the acting is great and the story is engaging, there is no real tension. There is never any real doubt how things will turn out and the whole thing feels a little pedestrian. Almost more like a documentary than a feature film.

So which SHOULD win?

My two favorite movies of the year were Ex Machina and Room. Since Ex Machina was not nominated (why? WHY?!?), Room is my clear favorite amongst this year’s nominees.

But which WILL win?

The Revenant is the clear favorite here. The only argument against it is that last year’s winner, Birdman, was helmed by the same director: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. Oddly the dark horse appears to be Spotlight, for reasons I can’t fathom. I’m going with The Revenant.

Best Actress - Brie Larson for Room in a runaway win that is richly deserved. This was an incredibly demanding role and she knocked it out of the park with a nuanced performance that was so natural it didn’t feel like a performance at all.

Best Supporting Actress - This is a two-way race between Alicia Vikander for The Danish Girl and Kate Winslet for Steve Jobs. I’m going with Alicia.

Best Actor - Leo. Leo for days. All Leo, all the time.

Best Supporting Actor - This is a very tight race between Mark Rylance for Bridge of Spies and (ahem) Sylvester Stallone for Creed. I loved Rylance’s performance, and so I really want him to win, but I think the Academy will reward Sly for years of box office success. I’m reluctantly going with Stallone (but this is a case where I’d be happy to be wrong).

Best Director - First I’d just like to point out that the 5 nominations in this category are for my Contenders above plus Mad Max, which, admittedly, was a directorial tour de force. This appears to be a runaway for Inarritu, which will make him the first back-to-back winner since Joseph L. Mankiewicz in 1949 and 50. George Miller is actually a dark horse contender for Mad Max, but it is an extremely dark horse.

Best Original Screenplay - This one has me scratching my head until I hit grey matter. The clear favorite is Spotlight, but Ex Machina was also nominated in this category. Ex Machina has a screenplay that is wildly inventive and unique, while Spotlight’s screenplay reads like a newspaper article. I just don’t get it. Spotlight. Whatever.

Best Adapted Screenplay - The Big Short should win, with Room a distant second. I can’t quibble too much; they are both great stories. But Room, I mean Room … *sigh* The Big Short.

Best Animated Feature - My sentimental favorite here is Anomalisa (full disclosure: I backed the Kickstarter) because I love Charlie Kaufman. But the truth is it is a distant second to the Pixar juggernaut that is Inside Out.

Best Cinematography - Again it’s a race between The Revenant and Mad Max, but again The Revenant is the clear favorite with Mad Max a very black dark horse. The Revenant.

Best Costume Design - This is a close race between Mad Max and Cinderella. Mad Max is due for a win.

Best Makeup - Mad Max is a shoo-in here.

Best Visual Effects - Mad Max has a shot here as well, but I think Star Wars: The Force Awakens will take home the statue. (actual winner: Ex Machina).

That’s it for another year! Until next year, may all your features be double!

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tediousoscars · 9 years

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2014

Predict-o-meter: This year: 11/14; Total: 70/82 (85%)

It’s that awkward time of year again, between Valentine’s Day and March Madness, when our collective consciousness turns to the movies! Welcome to the 2014 edition of my Oscars screed.

This year’s class is absolutely top notch. Seriously, top to bottom nothing but excellent films. Usually there are at least one or two real head-scratchers in there that leave you wondering, ‘WHAT were they THINKING?!?’ But not this year.

Of course, it is also the smallest class (“only” 8 nominees) since 2008, so maybe the Academy came to their senses and simply left the clunkers out.

The class is evenly split between 4 biopics and 4 works of fiction. I have a bias towards the latter, which will become obvious, but all of the bios are well-made, thoroughly enjoyable films. You really can’t go wrong with any of the nominees this year.

The upshot of all of this is that I will eschew my now-traditional bisection of the class into “Contenders” and “Pretenders,” since this year each and every nominee is a legitimate Contender.

And in the category of “Best Picture” the nominees are …

American Sniper. This film is built around a towering performance by Bradley Cooper as real-life Navy SEAL Chris Kyle. Cooper’s Kyle is raised to be a “sheep dog” who protects ordinary people from predatory “wolves.” The events of 9/11 kick Kyle’s protective instincts into high gear and he sees it as his personal responsibility to protect the nation. Kyle is a True Believer who returns to Iraq again and again to kill “evil savages” before they can reach our shores. So unshakeable is Kyle’s faith in his mission that when the mother of a fallen comrade reads a letter at the funeral expressing her son’s growing disillusionment with the war Kyle’s conclusion is that it was the letter - and the doubt that it represents - that actually killed his friend. Unfortunately the rest of the film doesn’t rise to the level of virtuosity that Cooper displays. While the combat scenes do provide a unique perspective from Kyle’s sniper perch, for the most part they are fairly standard war movie fare - with the exception of a stunning establishing shot at the outset of the climactic battle. This is surprising given director Clint Eastwood’s penchant for taking an established format (western, boxing movie, and, yes, war movie) and portraying it in an innovative way. But the real story here is not the battles on the streets of Fallujah, but rather Kyle’s battle to re-integrate on Main Street, USA. Cooper does a masterful job of portraying the stoic Kyle’s inner struggle, but overall this aspect of the story is given short shrift in the film. The ultimate bitter irony is that Kyle - ever the sheep dog - eventually found solace and purpose in helping his fellow veterans returning from war with wounds both physical and mental, only to be gunned down by one of the very PTSD sufferers he was seeking to help. This is barely touched on in the film. So stellar work by Cooper, and a solid film all around, but by merely glancing at issues into which it could have gazed deeply the film fails to achieve greatness.

Birdman. This film follows the attempt of an aging star to return to relevance by producing a Broadway adaptation of one of his idol's stories that he also wrote, is directing, and stars in. This ambitious over-reach will either resurrect his career or cause a mental breakdown, a chaotic state of affairs that the film portrays effectively by blurring the lines between reality and hallucination. There is so much going on in this ambitious film that it ends up being a bit of a hot mess, with the emphasis on hot, rather than mess. First there's the casting. The lead is Riggon Thomas, a fading Hollywood star best known for a trilogy of superhero movies in the 90s. He is played by Michael Keaton, a fading Hollywood star best known for a trilogy of superhero movies in the 90s. The first supporting role is Mike Shiner, a younger star known as much for arrogance and causing problems on set as he is for brilliant performances. He is played by Edward Norton, a younger star known as much for arrogance and causing problems on set as he is for brilliant performances. Throw in female support from the likes of Emma Stone and Naomi Watts, and it's clear why Zach Galifinakis (as Riggon's lawyer) seems so out of his depth: he is. Then there's the score. Throughout most of the film the action is underscored by a prolonged minimalist jazz drum riff, representing Riggon's fractured, stressed inner state and/or the hustle and bustle of Manhattan itself. Sometimes this is what Riggon is actually hearing, like when he passes a busking drummer on the street or a marching drum line in Times Square. Sometimes it appears to be another hallucination, and sometimes it is just a movie score. Yet another way this film blurs lines and messes with expectations. Then there's the astounding use of location. The claustrophobic and labyrinthine bowels of the theater where the bulk of the action takes place almost deserve a credit as a character in the film. And the energetic vibe of the streets of Manhattan is captured brilliantly. On top of all of that there is cogent and biting commentary on the nature of celebrity, the relevance of social media, and the New York theater system. And I haven't even mentioned the incredible performances. The scenes between Keaton and Norton are an acting master class. It feels more like they are jazz masters riffing off each other - consistent with the drum score - than actors working from a script. There is so much going on in this film that I didn't even have time to mention the giant robot bird attacking New York!

Boyhood. A common problem for filmmakers is the depiction of characters over significant time. This is usually accomplished through some combination of effects and make-up, though another common approach is to simply hire different actors of different ages. In "Boyhood" director Richard Linklater takes a markedly different approach: he waits. The film follows the life of Mason Evans, Jr. (Ellar Coltrane) from age 6 to age 18, and consequently was shot over a 12-yr period. The effect of this is pervasive: Mason's sister and parents age along with him, but also the clothing, music, cars, and the video games that Mason obsessively plays are all effortlessly of the correct period because the filming took place in the year being represented. This is an amazing way to film a movie, but is the film any good? The short answer is: Yes. It is a painstaking representation of a life that is eventful without being extraordinary. One truism in Hollywood is that people don't go to the movies to see themselves. Movies are an escape, so we are trained to expect massive drama, either physical or emotional. There are many scenes in "Boyhood" that appear to be headed down that road. Opportunities for disasters abound, and trained moviegoers will find themselves inching towards the edges of their seats. But the disasters are not so much averted as aborted. Close calls far outnumber major traumas, just as in real life. Which is not to say that nothing happens, just that nothing unbelievable or astounding happens. The message here is that every-day life is interesting enough. It is dramatic enough. Everyone faces difficulties and everyone has trouble finding their way in the world - not just action heroes or traumatized victims of disasters. If it is true that we are all the heroes of the movies of our lives, then "Boyhood" is Mason's movie, and it's fun to watch.

The Grand Budapest Hotel. If most movies are an escape from every day life, then Wes Andersen’s movies are an escape from reality itself. Seemingly set in the same alternate reality as 2012’s "Moonrise Kingdom," "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is, above all, a celebration of style. Centered on the hysterically improbable antics of M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) - fastidious concierge of the eponymous hotel - and his young protege Zero the Lobby Boy, the characters careen through madcap antics while always comporting to the most stringent rules of etiquette. The cast is as ridiculously overblown as the action: F. Murray Abraham, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Harvey Keitel, Jude Law, Bill Murray, Edward Norton, Jason Schwartzman, Tilda Swinton, and Owen Wilson all make appearances. Easily the most fun of the nominees, it’s also one of the most gorgeous to look at: nominated for Cinematography, Production Design, Costume Design, and Makeup and Hairstyling. Finely crafted, impeccably dressed, and infinitely stylish, "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is a beast that is all too rare in American cinema: A smart comedy.

The Imitation Game. Alan Turing is likely the greatest genius of the 20th Century you’ve never heard of … unless you’re a computer scientist. It is widely and mostly correctly argued that Turing invented the concept of modern computing, if not the computer itself. He was also instrumental in breaking the Nazi Enigma code, and hence to winning World War II. All of this year’s biopics have been accompanied by litanies of complaints about details that they get wrong, but only "The Imitation Game" has been accused of grossly misrepresenting its core subject. Be that as it may, this is a Hollywood movie, not a documentary, so the question is: Does it work as a piece of entertainment? For the most part, it does. The story is definitely engaging and fascinating and the performances by leads Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightley are solid, particularly in their scenes together (though, honestly, I would watch those two read the phone book). The script does cut some corners, however. Turing is adept at avoiding being fired by a boss who hates him, but the source of the influence he apparently wields with the “higher ups” is never really explained. His team goes from open hostility, to grudging respect, to fierce loyalty, but this transition is not well motivated by the action on screen. Despite its flaws "The Imitation Game" is entertaining and presents a perspective on the war-time British home front that we don’t get to see very often.

Selma: Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is the closest thing to a universally revered saint that we have in American public life. Selma is not the story of his life as a whole, but rather a specific episode: The march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama in support of Voting Rights. This limited scope allows the film to delve more deeply into King’s personality and motivation than a more sweeping epic could. The result is rewarding. King (expertly played by David Oyelowo) is presented as a well-rounded human being with strengths and weaknesses, hopes and fears. More strikingly, the movement itself is shown to be a conscious, strategic campaign, rather than a spontaneous grassroots uprising. King and his cronies plan their appearances and actions with the precision of a military campaign. The cast is uniformly strong but Carmen Ejogo stands out - she practically channels Coretta King. Though the open and unadulterated racism depicted in "Selma" is thankfully shocking to modern audiences, the films themes and story are still sadly relevant 5 decades after the events that it depicts. The Voting Rights Act that the Selma march helped to create was effectively gutted by the recent Shelby County v. Holder decision by the Supreme Court, causing many states to instantly start passing laws to restrict voting. And recent events from coast to coast have demonstrated that relations between the police and minority communities are still strained. Hence "Selma" serves as both a beacon of hope and a cautionary tale: Obstacles can be overcome through perseverance, but constant vigilance is required or else hard-won victories will be rolled back.

The Theory of Everything. In 1963, at the age of 21, Stephen Hawking was diagnosed with ALS and given two years to live. Now in his 70s, he has not let the physically debilitating disease prevent him from becoming the world’s greatest living physicist. "The Theory of Everything" - the title is taken from his lifelong goal to develop a single equation that describes the universe - presents this unlikely true story in a way that humanizes Hawking. This is due in no small part to the nearly miraculous (nominated) performance by Eddie Redmayne in the lead role. Not since Daniel Day-Lewis’ Oscar Winning performance in 1989’s My Left Foot has there been such a convincing performance of physical transformation. Redmayne’s Hawking begins as an able-bodied young man and ends up wheelchair bound and unable to speak, and the intermediate steps of gradual decay are captured so convincingly that Hawking has said that he forgot he was watching an actor and thought he was watching himself. But there is more here than just a stunning performance. The script captures Hawking’s humanity - his foibles (the film is based on the memoir of his ex-wife, after all) as well as his humor. And I was more than a little surprised that the film wasn’t nominated for cinematography. There is a lot going on with the lighting in this film. Yes, sometimes, this is done for nostalgic effect during a flashback, but there is virtually not a frame in this film that is shot with what could be considered standard lighting. This makes the film visually as well as dramatically interesting, and lends some unexpected emotional undertones to many of the scenes. Probably the best of the biopics, in my opinion, and not just because I’m a physicist.

Whiplash. On the surface this appears to be a simple little film about an ambitious aspiring jazz drummer with a demanding, seemingly cruel teacher. But it is more than that. So much more. The core premiss of Whiplash is that to be great at something - really world class great - requires such obsessive drive and focus that it virtually precludes a life with normal human interactions. Meet Terence Fletcher, legendary conductor of the Studio Band at Shaffer Conservatory. Played with verve and gusto by the always-great J.K. Simmons (who was nominated as Best Supporting Actor for his troubles), Fletcher has the ear of a maestro and the soul of a drill sergeant. Fletcher demands perfection and drives his students beyond any limits that could remotely be considered reasonable. As a result, the Studio Band is an indomitable force on the competition circuit. Enter Andrew Nieman, a young drummer with almost as much arrogance as ambition. His declared goal is to become one of the greats, and he sees gaining entry into the Studio Band as an important stepping stone. What follows is a monumental clash of egos that threatens to destroy both men. This all sounds fairly straightforward, but there are enough plot twists here for a spy thriller, and the triumphant climax is as unexpected as it is exhilarating. But what really drives this film is the performances. Simmons is a terrifyingly inhuman obscenity-spewing monster. Miles Teller as Nieman perfectly captures the balance of bravado and doubt of an adolescent prodigy. There’s also a nice turn by Paul Reiser (where has HE been?) as Nieman’s father, who is sort of the anti-Fletcher: a loving, caring would-be writer who has chosen the comforts of family over a pursuit of literary greatness. This is not always a comfortable film to watch, but it is wholly engrossing. It is impossible to watch casually; your complete attention and emotional involvement is demanded. Do yourself a favor and see this film.

So which SHOULD win?

In my mind it’s a two-horse race between "Birdman" and "Whiplash." Both are anchored by mind-blowing performances. "Birdman" is more whimsical and perhaps more straightforwardly entertaining, but "Whiplash," ah, "Whiplash" is an awesome beast of a film. The greatness of all of the other nominees this year can be appreciated on an abstract, intellectual level. You can sit back and casually watch them whilst simultaneously evaluating their strengths and weaknesses. "Whiplash" grabs you by the throat, lifts you off your feet, screams, “I’M AWESOME” in your face and then casually tosses you in the corner and walks away without looking back. It is a visceral viewing experience, which is extremely rare and hence to be cherished.

But which WILL win?

In reality it’s a two-horse race between "Birdman" and "Boyhood," with "Boyhood" the clear favorite. My problem with this is that all of the buzz is about how the film was made, and not the actual film itself. While it’s definitely a good movie, if it had been made traditionally in a 3-month shoot with a series of young actors and aging make-up I don’t think it would be getting nearly the buzz that it is now. But whatever, I’ll go with "Boyhood."

Best Actress - Julianne Moore in a runaway win for her turn as an early-onset Alzheimer’s patient in "Still Alice." Brilliant work and about time! I have been a huge fan of Moore’s for years and this is her 4th nomination. She has yet to win, but this is definitely her year. Brava!

Best Supporting Actress - Patricia Arquette for her role as the mother in "Boyhood." Definitely solid work with good emotional range. She does a great job at capturing the exquisite balancing act that is motherhood, particularly under trying circumstances.

Best Actor - Eddie Redmayne is a shoo-in here for his astounding portrayal of Stephen Hawking. Well deserved.

Best Supporting Actor - J.K. Simmons for "Whiplash." Fantastic performance by a fantastic actor. My only quibble here is that I think a solid case could be made that he is actually the lead.

Best Director - This is a tight race between Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu for "Birdman" and Richard Linklater for "Boyhood." "Birdman" is clearly the more inventive of the two, and while Linklater did face amazing logistical challenges keeping cast and funding together for 12 years, these are not really directorial challenges. I’m going with Inarritu here.

Best Original Screenplay - "The Grand Budapest Hotel" should win here, but "Birdman" has an outside chance. I’m going with the Hotel.

Best Adapted Screenplay - This is a toss-up between "Whiplash" and "The Imitation Game." Oddly, I think the Game will win, despite it’s well-documented adaptational flaws.

Best Animated Film - "How To Train Your Dragon 2." A very solid and original sequel. (Actual winner: Big Hero 6.)

Best Documentary - "CitizenFour"

Best Cinematography - "Birdman"

And look for "The Grand Budapest Hotel" to sweep the “style” section: Best Costume Design, Best Production Design, Best Hair and Make-up Design.

That’s all for this year. Until next year may you never lose your ticket stub, and your feet never stick to the floor.

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tediousoscars · 9 years

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2013

Predict-o-meter: This year: 11/11; Total: 59/68 (87%)

What could be worse than a year in which Matthew McConaughey is featured in two films nominated for Best Picture?

What could be better than a year in which Amy Adams is featured in two films nominated for Best Picture?

What could be more bizarre than a year in which Spike Jonze is involved in two films nominated for Best Picture?

What could be more confusing than a year in which all three of these happen at once?

I give you 2013, ladies and gentlemen!

- THE CONTENDERS -

12 Years a Slave. Solomon Northup was a highly-educated, free-born Black man living with his wife and children in 1840s New York state when he was kidnapped and sold into slavery in the deep South. “12 Years a Slave,” based upon Northup’s memoir of the same name, tells the remarkable true story of his descent into slavery and eventual return to freedom. The film is solid, yet not masterful; like a pianist who is technically sound and hits all the right notes, but fails to rise to the level of virtuosity. It’s almost as if director Steve McQueen is so concerned with doing justice to the amazing source material that he is too timid to fully spread his wings artistically. And the few artistic flourishes that are included in the film are lingered over too long as if to say “LOOK! We’re being artistic!” Don’t get me wrong: This is a fine piece of movie-making. Despite a couple scenes in which minor characters struggle with the period dialog the main cast is very strong. And the screenplay manages to sample a wide variety of slave-era Southern tropes in an efficient manner without feeling superficial or forced. I really liked this film, but I wanted to fall madly in love with it. Overall it is a well-made, well-acted film about an important subject and is a strong recommendation. It simply isn’t a masterpiece.

Captain Phillips. This is a taut, gripping thriller that puts real, believable characters into real, believably horrifying circumstances, and lets them react in real, believable, heroic ways. The screenplay is expertly paced, the acting is uniformly spectacular, the story is edge-of-your seat exciting, the Good Guys win, and it’s all true! If there were an Academy Award for Best Casting then Francine Maisler would win for finding Somali-born Barkhad Abdi to play pirate leader Muse. He is utterly, chillingly convincing and richly deserves his nomination for Best Supporting Actor. There were very few Must See films this year; “Captain Phillips” is one of them.

Her. In the not-too-distant future computer operating systems will become sentient and self-aware. And people will date them. That is the unlikely premiss of “Her,” the latest outing from eclectic music video director turned auteur Spike Jonze. With a premiss like that it would have been very easy for “Her” to run off the rails and turn into a vapid trainwreck. But Jonze keeps everything finely balanced and manages to turn the practical difficulties of such a relationship into a prism through which to view the essence of romance from a refreshing new angle. There’s even a new twist on the old ‘I still love you, but I’ve outgrown you’ plot. And, it must be said, Scarlett Johansson gives one of the best performances of her career despite never appearing onscreen. When you hear ‘guy falls in love with his computer’ an image springs to mind of a cheesy screwball comedy. “Her” is not that movie. If you give it a chance you will be pleasantly surprised.

Nebraska. I started out hating this movie and ended up loving it. Films in which it is painfully obvious that the actors are Reading Dialogue are amongst my pet peeves. At its worst it feels like watching a high school play. Several scenes early in “Nebraska” felt that way and I found it incredibly off-putting. I’m actually unclear on whether the situation improved as the film went on, or I just became so engrossed in the story that I ceased to notice. The premiss of “Nebraska” is simple and brilliant: Woody Grant, an elderly man approaching senility (played by Bruce Dern in a fantastic nominated performance), receives some junk mail for magazine subscriptions unconvincingly disguised as a winning sweepstakes notification. Unwilling to trust the mail with an item of such import, and unable to convince anyone to take him to Lincoln, NE to collect his winnings, he simply starts walking. From Billings, MT. When it becomes clear that Woody simply will not listen to reason and give up his quixotic quest, his son David reluctantly agrees to take some time off work and drive him. And then, as they say, mayhem ensues. But this is not farcical National Lampoon mayhem, or Michael Bay explosion mayhem. This is quiet, understated, plodding, believable mayhem. The apparent simplicity of the small-town working-class settings in the film (captured in stunning black and white) belie the emotional complexity of the subtext, from adult children struggling to come to grips with the fact that their parents are fully-realized human beings, to the bizarre microscope of small-town life. On the face of it the triumphant climax in “Nebraska” is, like the rest of the film, small and muted. But it soars emotionally and feels as spectacular as any Death Star exploding.

Philomena. If you were a teenaged girl who became pregnant in 1950s Ireland you were not given a reality show. Instead you were committed to seven years of indentured servitude in a convent that would routinely sell the resultant children to rich Americans without the mothers’ consent. This is the dramatically gripping backdrop to “Philomena,” the real-life story of Philomena Lee (the always wonderful Dame Judi Dench in a nominated role) who sets out to find her stolen boy 50 years after the fact. She teams up with Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan, also nominated), a one-time up-and-comer in the Labour government who has fallen from grace and sees Philomena’s story as a possible way to make a comeback. With that sort of set-up you would think that this film would be driven by plot. And by a circuitous path they do, in fact, find the boy. (Who - in a twist that must be true because no one would believe it if you made it up - grew up to be a closeted homosexual who was a high-ranking official in the Reagan administration.) But the real genius here is the subtle and complex relationship between Philomena and Martin. At the outset they genuinely dislike each other, but each recognizes the other’s potential usefulness. Their ever-prickly relationship slowly evolves into something approaching earnest appreciation, without ever tipping over into genuine affection. It’s all frightfully British. If this film had been made by Americans they would have ended up BFFs exchanging tearful hugs, or some such nonsense. But the Brits know a thing or two about forlornly awkward social intercourse, and this is the best portrayal of a platonic relationship between and man and a woman since “Lost in Translation.”

- THE PRETENDERS -

American Hustle. In my book “American Hustle” starts out with two strikes against it: My least favorite genre (gangster/con men) and my least favorite decade (the 70s). This movie desperately wants to be “Argo” - a real-life thriller about covert government operations in the not-too-distant past. It just isn’t. First, there are no heroes to root for. Basically everyone in the entire film is a scumbag. Second, the ultimate goal - stinging corrupt politicians - is simply not as engaging as rescuing Americans trapped in Iran. Having said all that, the cast is amazing and the performances are stellar. I simply couldn’t connect with the story. Oh, but a side note: Whoever was in charge of keeping the bra-less Amy Adams and Jennifer Lawrence from falling out of their dresses deserves the award for Visual Effects.

Dallas Buyers Club. Ron Woodruff (played by Matthew McConaughey in a nominated role) was a two-bit no-account Texas good ol’ boy electrician / rodeo cowboy and serial party monster when he contracted AIDS through sex with intravenous drug users. It was the mid-80s, a time when AIDS was thought to be an affliction solely of gay men - particularly amongst the rough and rowdy in Texas. Rejected by his lifelong friends and given 30 days to live, Ron undergoes a remarkable transformation. First, a dormant trove of entrepreneurial moxie is unearthed that allows Ron to seek out, acquire, import, and distribute AIDS drugs before they were formally approved by the FDA (treatments that, incidentally, allowed Ron to turn those 30 days into 7 years). And second, though he never really fully accepted the gay men with whom he became forcibly associated, he at least came to view them as human beings worthy of respect and dignity. Though strong through the first two acts, the film becomes a bit brittle and maudlin in the third, as it attempts to pry tears from the ducts of the audience with a crowbar. But the real story here is Jared Leto, the runaway favorite to win Best Supporting Actor for his role as Rayon, Ron’s unlikely transgendered business partner and fellow AIDS sufferer. At turns vibrant, flawed, ridiculous, and painfully human it is simply a great performance.

Gravity. Talk about form over substance. This film is beautiful - there’s no denying it - and is a shoo-in to win for Cinematography. But it’s just a pretty face. There’s no character development (unless you count having your toddler daughter slip on the playground and die of a head injury as character development), and there’s no plot (must get home; endless series of close calls). But its real weakness is the skull-shatteringly stupid premiss. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘But Tom! Not EVERYone is a physicist! It doesn’t have to make perfect sense blah blah blah!’ Let me translate the premiss of this film into common terrestrial experiences with which you are familiar: Imagine a film where the primary premiss is that a traffic accident on I-90 outside of Boston causes a chain reaction and all the cars on the Eastern seaboard start to explode, stranding a traveller in DC. But it turns out that it's okay because DC, NYC, and Boston are all within easy walking distance of each other, so she just walks home, constantly dodging exploding cars along the way. Could you really set that aside and enjoy the film? That movie, that stupid, stupid movie exists, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s called “Gravity.” Do yourselves a favor and see Space Station IMAX instead. You’ll get all of the visuals but none of the brain damage.

The Wolf of Wall Street. Marty, Marty, Marty. Scorsese seems to have fallen into the same trap as Peter Jackson: Thinking that he is too successful to need an editor. At a full 3-hours running time, “The Wolf of Wall Street” is a bit of a bloated mess. The rampant debauchery displayed in this film would make Caligula blush - I’ve seen pornos with fewer hot naked chicks on screen (and I mean so, so hot). But it just goes on and on (and on). I mean, how much blow must one snort off a hooker’s ass before the audience gets the point? Roughly a metric fuckton in Marty’s book, apparently. The denizens of “The Wolf of Wall Street” are obsessed with making obscene amounts of cash seemingly only so that they can out-do each other blowing it in increasingly insane ways. The problem is that they don’t really seem to be enjoying themselves. They appear to be sad, empty people desperately trying to convince themselves that they are having fun. And maybe that’s the point. And it’s a fine point. But it’s a point that does not require an hour-and-a-half-long, drug-fueled orgy of head shaving, dwarf tossing, and public fornication to drive home. Really, Marty; what would your mother say?

So which SHOULD win?

In my opinion only three of the nominees this year lack obvious flaws: “Captain Phillips”, “Her”, and “Philomena.” Picking one of these is extremely difficult. “Captain Phillips” is the most straighforwardly entertaining, but it is also the most standardly formulaic. Both “Her” and “Philomena” are fascinating and thought-provoking studies of non-standard relationships. But “Philomena” has an amazing and well-presented backstory as well, so I’m going with “Philomena” as my pick this year.

But which WILL win?

The odds-on favorite is “12 Years a Slave.” Incredibly the dark horse contender seems to be “Gravity.” If “Gravity” wins I will be forced to ritually disembowel myself on the steps of the Dolby Theater. Hence I am going with “12 Years a Slave” as an act of self preservation.

And in the other categories ...

Best Actress - Cate Blanchett for “Blue Jasmine”

Best Supporting Actress - This is a tight two-way race between Jennifer Lawrence for “American Hustle” and Lupita Nyong’o for “12 Years a Slave.” Both performances are strong, but personally I thought Lawrence’s showed more range. However, she is coming off of a Best Actress win last year, and blockbuster success with “Hunger Games” so my guess is that voters will judge that she has ‘got hers’ and will go with the newcomer. Look for Nyong’o here.

Best Actor - Ma-*gag* excuse me Matt-*hack* ... gimme a moment ... Matthew McConaughey (*heave*) for “Dallas Buyers Club.” The apocalypse is nigh.

Best Supporting Actor - Jared Leto for “Dallas Buyers Club”

Best Director - Alfonso Cuaron for “Gravity.” Wait ... WHAT? Are you fucking kidding me?!?? (mutter grumble)

Best Adapted Screenplay - “12 Years a Slave”

Best Original Screenplay - This is a tight race between “Her” and “American Hustle.” I liked “Her” WAY more than “American Hustle,” so I will add my predictive karma to help it win. Look for “Her” here.

Best Cinematography - “Gravity” (this one I will grant them)

Best Visual Effects - “Gravity” but really ... they couldn’t get Sandra’s hair to float in zero-g? Really?

Best Animated Feature - “Frozen”

That’s it for this year. Until next year, may all of your performances be nominated, and may all your carpets be red.

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tediousoscars · 11 years

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2012

Predict-o-meter: This year: 8/9; Total: 48/57 (84%)

When this Oscar class was first announced I was optimistic. At that point I hadn’t seen “Amour”, “Beasts of the Southern Wild”, or “Zero Dark Thirty” and I had high hopes for all of them.

Oh well.

Not a BAD class, mind you ... but not stellar.

My guess is that the Venn diagram of people who thought “Django Unchained” was a good nomination and those who thought “Les Miserables” was a good nomination has essentially no overlap. If you’ve been paying attention over the years you should have no trouble predicting in which circle I reside.

But in the final analysis it probably doesn’t matter much either way because neither has a chance of winning.

And so, without further ado, let’s get down to business:

- THE CONTENDERS -

Argo. In his directorial debut, Ben Affleck shows himself to be a competent, but not inspired, director. “Argo” is the amazing true story of six Americans who escaped the US Embassy in Tehran moments before it was over-run in 1979. Holed up in the Canadian Embassy, but unable to leave the city, they were rescued by an unlikely CIA plot that involved them posing as a film crew for a low-budget sci-fi movie. The story is fascinating and the film is entertaining - John Goodman and Alan Arkin provide stellar comic relief as Hollywood producers pretending to back the faux film - but it fails to rise to the level of greatness, mostly because it lacks the dramatic tension that characterizes the best spy thrillers. You are interested to see how the team will get out of their current jam, but you never doubt for a second that they will.

Django Unchained. In “Django Unchained” Tarantino gives the antebellum South the same treatment that he gave to WWII in “Inglorious Basterds,” and does it with another spectacular nominated performance from Christoph Waltz. In “Basterds” Waltz played the coolest Nazi ever committed to film. Here he plays Dr. King Shultz, a German ex-pat dentist turned bounty hunter who is larger than life while maintaining impeccable manners. Shultz hunts down the eponymous slave, Django (played by Jamie Foxx), for purely pragmatic reasons: Django is intimately familiar with the targets he is currently pursuing while Shultz knows them only by name, not by sight. The two form an unlikely partnership to such an extent that Shultz signs on to a quixotic quest to rescue Django’s wife from slavery. For most of the film you are conned into believing that Tarantino has turned over a new leaf. The strong, compelling, off-beat characters are there, complete with pithy dialog, but the famous Tarantino gratuitous violence seems to be missing (along with the trademark Tarantino kick-ass female characters, sadly) - I mean, sure, a guy gets eaten alive by dogs, but that’ll happen, right? There is some unexpected comedy during a scene in which a KKK lynch mob gets into a tiff arguing over their ill-fitting hoods, and Samuel L. Jackson’s turn as Stephen, the antagonist’s Head of Household is absolutely not to be missed. There is a prolonged verbal chess match between Django, Shultz, and the repugnant Calvin Candie (a smarmy and conceited Leonardo DiCaprio) - who is not only a slave owner, but enthusiastically participates in matching slaves in a brutal blood sport. You are right on the verge of believing that the entire caper is going to be pulled off without a bloodbath, when (spoilers!) it all goes horribly wrong for the most trivial and noble and infuriating of reasons: Shultz refuses to shake the hand of Candie, whom he finds morally reprehensible. And then it is as though all of Tarantino’s pent up frustrations at having to restrain his heroes from wanton murder explode into an orgy of over-the-top violence (I swear Tarantino buys his fake blood in bulk at Costco) and you realize that no leaves have been turned, Tarantino is still Tarantino (he even leaves one of the most explosive deaths for himself, in a cameo role), and it is really he who has been unchained. If you like Tarantino then this is another must-see that will change the way you look at Westerns forever. If you don’t like Tarantino, you should still rent it, but just turn it off as soon as Candie dies. Trust me.

Life of Pi. Though it aspires to be food for the soul, “Life of Pi” is really a visual smorgasbord that looks poised to sweep the Cinematography and Visual Effects Oscars. It is the unlikely story of an Indian teenager trapped on a lifeboat after a shipwreck - with a Bengal tiger. And for me the tiger steals the show. In most survival movies involving an animal and a human the beast is anthropomorphized and reaches some deep, unspoken understanding with its human companion. Here we see a truly believable, fully realized tiger that is starving and anxious to rip the boy to shreds, which is all the more amazing since it is computer generated. But there is a lot more going on here than simply a boy and a tiger on a boat (can you say “floating carnivorous island of meerkats” anyone?). There is a framing story in which an adult Pi tells his life story (boat, tiger) to an author, and then reveals the story behind the story (... behind the story). This big reveal brings home the age-old description of fiction as “the lie that tells the truth.” It’s all perhaps a bit too precious, but Ang Lee’s treatment is subtle enough that things don’t get out of control and the film is certain to spark some lively discussions afterwards - always a plus. Suraj Sharma gives a strong performance as the shipwrecked Pi, and Lee has established himself as the most versatile director of his generation, if not all time. He took an unfilmable book and not only filmed it, but made it look easy ... and gorgeous. It’s a remarkable achievement.

Lincoln. We are used to movies that show us the flashy side of history; the glorious battles full of stoic heroes and epic conquests. Many such films have been made about the Civil War, but Spielberg’s “Lincoln” is not one of them. This is the history of legislators and policy wonks. It is the story of how the Thirteenth Amendment, outlawing slavery, was jammed through a reluctant Congress by hook and, often, by crook. The real lesson here is that there is nothing new under the sun. The costumes are different, the speeches more eloquent, but the posturing, back-stabbing, and cynical grandstanding will be immediately recognizable to anyone following modern politics. Unlike with “War Horse,” Spielberg manages to keep his penchant for whimsy in check and lets the inherent drama of the events drive the story forward. Well that, and tour de force performances from Daniel Day-Lewis as Lincoln (a shoo-in for Best Actor) and Tommy Lee Jones as Congressman Thaddeus Stevens (nominated for Best Supporting Actor). Jones and James Spader seem to be in a competition to see who can steal the most scenes. Largely based on a book by historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, “Lincoln” feels historically accurate but is well paced and engaging. The scenes showing the debate on the floor of Congress are highlights; the parallels between many of the arguments presented and those being forwarded in debates of current social issues are inescapable, illuminating, and entertaining.

Silver Linings Playbook. Here we see the RomCom through the prism of mental illness. But this is not your typical Hollywood mental illness; there are no cuckoo’s nests to fly over or savants conquering Vegas. No, these are troubled - but not “crazy” - people struggling to get by day to day in the real world. You know, like the rest of us. In fact, when you meet the family of Bradley Cooper’s Pat - just out of a mental institution - you strongly suspect that he is the sanest of the bunch. When thinking about writing up this movie the word that kept coming to mind was “quirky.” A fairly standard RomCom formula is in play: boy loses wife, boy engages the help of wife’s friend to win wife back, boy falls for wife’s friend. But the actions and dialog of the principals are so odd and unexpected that the pat formula is barely recognizable. And then it hits you: the reason it feels so unusual is because it is all so real. We are so used to the bizarre, distorted, melodramatic world of the standard RomCom that when the formula is applied to a realistic situation it feels quirky. This is a movie that probably shouldn’t work, but works spectacularly due to the enormous talents of director David Russell (“The Fighter”), Cooper, and Jacki Weaver and Bobby DeNiro as Pat’s dysfunctional parents - all of them nominated and all richly deserved. But the shining star around which the rest of this luminous solar system orbits is Jennifer Lawrence as Tiffany, the ex-wife’s friend (actually ex-wife’s friend’s sister) - also nominated. She doesn’t act Tiffany, she simply IS Tiffany. Effortless perfection. With nominations for Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, and ALL FOUR acting categories, “Silver Linings Playbook” is as close to a “can’t miss” recommendation as you are likely to find. It is tempting to quibble about the ending, but you should resist the temptation. The entire film is quirky and off-beat and engaging, and brilliant ... and then they tack on this schmaltzy stock Hollywood happy ending. But then you remember the scene where the ending to Hemingway’s “A Farewell to Arms” triggered one of Pat’s manic episodes in which he storms into his parents’ bedroom at 4am and rants, “I mean, the world’s hard enough as it is, guys! Can’t somebody say, ‘Hey let’s be positive? Let’s have a good ending to the story?’” and you realize that the ending is genius.

- THE PRETENDERS -

Amour. On the face of it “Amour” has a lot of potential. It is the story of an elderly married couple struggling with the wife’s inexorable decline in health, which should be fertile soil for emotional drama. Claustrophobically shot almost entirely in the couple’s flat and presented without a score, “Amour” feels almost more like a collection of surveillance tapes than a feature film. And this could actually be an effective storytelling device, if there were an effective story to tell. But this is all just so mundane. Yes, all of the relevant issues are touched upon and the inherent indignity of aging is on full display, but no insight is provided, nothing is resolved, and there is no real character development apart from the wife’s slow and tragic devolution. And given that this is all presented with the glacial pacing that only the Europeans can master, at the end of the day it is all just exceedingly dull.

Beasts of the Southern Wild. I went into this film - stoked by the trailer and the buzz - all primed to really like it. And there is a lot here to like: some beautiful cinematography, a 6yo force of nature named Hushpuppy (played with verve and gusto by the even more unlikely-named Quvenzhané Wallis in a nominated performance), and a bushel of aw-shucksy folk wisdom. But unfortunately the film on the whole is less than the sum of its parts. Hushpuppy lives with her daddy and a ragtag band of neo-cajun misfits in the not-too-distant future on the wrong side of a massive levy erected to protect Civilization from rising sea levels caused by global warming. In addition to the day-to-day struggle of their hardscrabble existence, there is an impending hurricane that threatens to wash The Bathtub (as their corner of the swamp is called) away. Oh, and daddy is dying of some unspecified terminal illness, just for good measure. So, drama. Unfortunately, the narrative is sparse, and is driven forward in snippets that are often disjointed. It feels as though someone shot an awesome 12-part mini-series about life in The Bathtub, and “Beasts” is just a hodge podge highlight reel made from it. I really wanted to like it, but I just couldn’t. It is ALMOST worth watching just to see little Quvenzhané’s amazing performance, but not quite.

Les Miserables. I hated Les Miz on stage - let’s just get that right out of the way up front - for primarily two reasons. First, the sung dialog. This is such an unwieldy artifice that it essentially precludes any emotional connection to the characters, and in this show if you have no emotional connection to the characters the game is essentially over. Second, the music. In most musical theater the music ranges from soaring ballads to catchy pop hits with a little bit of everything in between thrown in. It can be argued that Les Miz is basically one song. One interminable, doleful, tedious, plodding song. There are no highs and lows, no emotional dynamic range, just a constant drumbeat of despair. However, that’s the stage show, and this is supposed to be about the movie. It’s possible to skillfully craft a film based on dour source material, right? RIGHT? Apparently not. In Tom Hooper’s Paris it is always nighttime, and everyone has a ginormous head. No, seriously. Virtually the entire film is shot in full-face closeup. At first I thought I was imagining it, but then I started paying attention and it was so utterly bizarre that I started trying to think of reasons why he would make such an odd choice. Was he trying to save money on sets? Did he misplace his wide-angle lens? By the end of the film I felt like I was watching the worst Peanuts holiday special ever: giant heads just droning “Wah wah WA wah wah” on and on. At midnight. Hooper’s insanely monochrome vision for the film combines with the monotone score to produce an epic study in monotony.

Zero Dark Thirty. With “The Hurt Locker” Kathryn Bigelow established herself as a master at portraying realistic action with compelling smoldering tension. With “Zero Dark Thirty” she demonstrates that she is clearly not a master at portraying a prolonged covert investigation in the same taut and thrilling manner. The footage in the third act of the actual assault on bin Laden’s compound is superb; “The Hurt Locker” revisited. Eschewing the gun-blazing super-heroics of your typical Hollywood war flick, the SEALs are presented as ruthlessly efficient and consummate professionals. It’s almost worth the price of admission. Unfortunately, the first two acts, which detail the investigation leading up to the discovery of the compound, drag on interminably. Even with the much-ballyhooed torture scenes and a brilliant (nominated) performance from Jessica Chastain the first two-thirds of the film are just dull. It’s still worth seeing for historical perspective if nothing else, but don’t expect a thriller like “The Hurt Locker.”

So which SHOULD win?

In my book it comes down to “Django Unchained” and “Silver Linings Playbook.” Given that, while great, “Django” is not Tarantino’s best work, and that “Silver Linings” has by far the more universal appeal, I’ll go with “Silver Linings Playbook.”

But which WILL win?

The early smart money was on “Lincoln” - costume drama by a big-name director? Check. However, “Argo” has been sweeping all of the precursors: Producer’s, Director’s, and Screen Actor’s Guilds, as well as Golden Globe, Critics Choice, and British Academy awards. So “Argo” is starting to look like the favorite for Best Picture. Ben Affleck was snubbed in the Best Director category and the film’s popularity in the other awards may be a reflection of that. Now, with 9 Best Picture nominees and only 5 Best Director nominees, being snubbed these days is not as egregious as it was in years past, but it is extremely rare for a film to win Best Picture when its director is not nominated. It has happened a total of 3 times, but only once since the 30s - when “Driving Miss Daisy” won in 1989. For me the strongest argument in favor of "Argo" winning is that it is by far my least favorite of the Contenders above. So while I think "Lincoln" is far more worthy, I guess I'll hold my nose and go with "Argo."

And in the other categories ...

Best Actress - Jennifer Lawrence should win here, but it’s a bit of a three-way race. Lawrence won the SAG and the Golden Globe for Musical or Comedy, Jessica Chastain won the Golden Globe for drama, and Emmanuelle Riva won the BAFTA - and the Academy Awards are on her 86th birthday. Still, Riva is a dark horse at best, and having seen all three performances I can say categorically that Lawrence’s is the strongest.

Best Supporting Actress - A runaway win for Anne Hathaway, who had the good sense to die early on in Les Miz, saving her from having to sit through most of the dreck (unlike the poor audiences).

Best Actor - Daniel Day-Lewis. You know, I’ve seen several interviews with him since watching the film and even though he has no beard and a British accent I still just saw Lincoln when I looked at him. His performance is that good.

Best Supporting Actor - This is an extremely tight race between Tommy Lee Jones and Christoph Waltz. Waltz won the Golden Globe and BAFTA awards, Jones won the SAG. The smart money is probably on Jones, but I’m going with Waltz because, frankly, I thought he gave a better performance and his role was more key to the overall success of the film.

Best Director - Though Ang Lee is making some noise for “Life of Pi,” Spielberg should pick up his third Oscar for “Lincoln.”

Best Documentary - "Searching for Sugar Man" This one's worth a look.

Best Cinematography - “Life of Pi.”

Best Visual Effects - “Life of Pi.”

That’s it until next year. May your cell phone always be silenced and your 3D glasses always fit.

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tediousoscars · 11 years

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2011

Predict-o-meter: This year: 7/8; Total: 40/48 (83%)

All of my kvetching about the absurdity of nominating ten films for Best Picture seems to have paid off. So this year, in an uncharacteristic show of restraint, the Academy has actually reduced the number of nominees. To nine. Let me just say up front that this is far and away the weakest class of nominees in recent memory. While there are some good films here, there really aren’t any great ones. The theme for this year seems to be Loss and Redemption. Virtually all of the nominees touch on these themes and some of them (“The Artist”, “The Descendants”, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close”) fairly well beat you over the head with them. As usual I will divide the class into Contenders and Pretenders, although, to be brutally honest they’re pretty much all Pretenders this year.

- THE CONTENDERS -

The Artist. The ultimate throwback, “The Artist” is a (mostly) silent film shot in black and white about the end of the era of silent movies. It’s a charming story about two star-crossed (maybe tongue-crossed?) lovers - one a fading star of silent films, the other a rising starlet of the talkies. This is artful visual story-telling and it is fascinating to watch the cast and crew recover a lost art. Surprisingly there is even some great retro Foley work in a whimsical scene in which silent star George Valentin is in his dressing room and all the props in the room start making noise while he remains silent. Throw in a scene-stealing dog to keep things light and you’ve got a film that is thoroughly enjoyable, if not terribly substantial. It all ends well and our heroes dance off into the sunset. There’s even a cute punchline when at last the reason is revealed why George can’t make it in the talkies: he’s French. Tres Drole.

The Descendants. In most movies when characters are faced with tragedy or loss they react dramatically with grandiose gestures and emotions writ large. The genius of “The Descendants” is that its characters react to tragedy the way real people do: they struggle to keep it together and press on regardless and hope that nobody notices that they’d rather be curled up in the fetal position under their bed. George Clooney plays Matt King, who by rights should have it made: he looks like George Clooney, he lives in Hawaii, and he has inherited a fortune. But his life is thrown into a tailspin when his wife is injured in a speedboat accident and slips into a coma. He is left with two sullen teenaged daughters - one who cannot articulate what she is feeling and so acts out, and the other who thinks he’s a dolt for not realizing (here drops the other shoe) that his wife had been cheating on him. So now in addition to the anxiety of dealing with a spouse in a coma he has to deal with betrayal and rage with no one at whom to direct his anger. Throw in a father-in-law who thinks his little girl was perfect and blames Matt for the accident because he never bought her a boat of her own, best friends who knew of the affair but didn’t tell him, a quest to track down his wife’s paramour (who turns out to be a stand-up family man himself), and a passel of cousins squabbling over a land deal involving large tracts of Kauai (which, incidentally, will make the wife’s lover rich), and Matt’s got a lot on his plate. He begins by careening through this gauntlet like an emotional pinball, but eventually finds his center and ultimately achieves something remarkably close to grace. At every step everything feels completely real. Even characters who flit in and out of the story briefly feel like fully realized people; there’s not a single stock stereotyped character in the film. Clooney - who once jokingly referred to himself as “primarily a hair actor” - shows surprising emotional range and does an excellent job as the point guard of the movie, making everyone around him better, which explains his nomination for Best Actor. After all of the turmoil and strife, “The Descendants” ends with a calm little scene of domestic tranquility as Matt and his daughters - after spreading their mother’s ashes in the waves - settle down for an evening of TV and ice cream. Life goes on.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. With megawatt stars with names like Hanks and Bullock in small, supporting roles “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is full of anomalies. Oskar Schell is an eleven-year-old who is socially awkward and may or may not have mild Asperger’s Syndrome . (“The tests were inconclusive.”) His father (Hanks) is the only one who “gets” him and this unusually close bond is severed on The Worst Day, as Oskar refers to 9/11, when his father had a business meeting in the World Trade Center. The discovery of a strange key in his father’s closet leads to a quixotic quest across New York City to discover what the key unlocks. The result is heartwarming without being saccharine or manipulative. Through his quest for his father Oskar discovers the rest of his family, and, ultimately, the world. The real story here is Thomas Horn, the 14yo who plays Oskar and was discovered on “Kids Jeopardy!” He is onscreen for virtually the entire film and delivers a performance of such strength and emotional range that I was left wondering whether the Academy would have the courage to nominate him for Best Actor. They did not. Whenever a child actor delivers such a powerful performance it is always a question how much credit goes to the kid and how much to the director. Given that Horn had no previous acting experience one suspects a lot of credit goes to director Stephen Daldry, who wasn’t even nominated for his trouble. Still, it will be interesting to watch how Horn’s career develops. He’s certainly off to a great start with “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” which can be accurately described as the ultimate anomaly: a feel-good movie about 9/11.

The Help. Set in the heart of Dixie at the height of the Civil Rights movement, “The Help” takes great pleasure in exposing the irrationality that underlies racism (for instance, the white socialites of Jackson, Mississippi fret over sharing a bathroom with their black maids, but think nothing of allowing the maids free reign in raising their white children). Skeeter (played with just the right mix of energy, determination, and cluelessness by the wonderful Emma Stone) is an aspiring journalist fresh out of college who can only land a job writing an advice column about cleaning and housework because, you know, she’s a woman. Despite her obvious femininity, it turns out that Skeeter knows absolutely nothing about housework and so she sheepishly turns to one of Jackson’s many black maids for help with her column. This is her entree into the world of The Help, whose innumerable stories - some tragic, some hysterical, some tragically hysterical - she ultimately turns into an anonymous tell-all book (the proceeds of which she shares equally with the maids). The fact that many of the characters are presented as shallow stereotypes is largely overcome by many strong performances from the excellent ensemble cast, as evidenced by THREE nominations - Viola Davis for Best Actress, and Octavia Spencer and Jessica Chastain (who like Brad Pitt appears in two nominated films this year) both for Best Supporting Actress.

Hugo. Marty Scorsese has eschewed the gangsters and violence to make ... a children’s movie? In 3D? As unlikely as it sounds, Marty has apparently effortlessly mastered 3D technology. The film is definitely meant to be seen in 3D and the 3D actually heightens the experience without getting in the way. The titular Hugo is the orphaned son of a clockmaker (it was a good year for kids losing parents) who lives within the labyrinthine clockworks of a Paris train station. His world is almost aggressively three dimensional and Scorsese captures it beautifully with the new technology. The plot seems a bit unwieldy and convoluted when you sit down to try to summarize it, but while you’re watching it all unfolds naturally with a certain inner logic. The cinematography is a little exaggerated, as are a lot of the characters - this is a kid’s movie, after all - but rather than being distracting or annoying it all feels like a good graphic novel brought to life. You’re always confident that there is a pat happy ending in the offing, but there are enough twists and turns to keep it interesting. I would give this movie a strong recommendation, but for you renters out there I think it really needs to be seen on the big screen and in 3D in order to be fully appreciated.

- THE PRETENDERS - (Personally I would recommend “Albert Nobbs”, “My Week with Marilyn”, “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”, and “The Iron Lady” ahead of any of these)

Midnight in Paris. The movie-going public breathed a collective sigh of relief when Woody Allen stopped casting himself in the lead of his movies. However, it is oddly disconcerting to watch dialogue that is obviously written for Woody coming out of Owen Wilson’s mouth. Wilson plays Woody playing a frustrated (albeit successful) Hollywood screenwriter whose real ambition is to write the Great American Novel. He is almost obsessed with the vibrant literary scene in 1920s Paris and through a thin and ill-explained artifice involving - wait for it - midnight ... in Paris ... he ends up transported there to hobnob with Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Cole Porter, Josephine Baker, T.S. Eliot, Man Ray, Salvador Dali, and pretty much anyone who ever passed through Paris in the 20s. He becomes infatuated with Adriana, a sometime mistress of both Picasso and Hemingway, and they strike up an unlikely flirtatious friendship. But Adriana is disillusioned with 1920s Paris and - get this - fetishizes the Belle Epoch. Next thing you know they are transported back to fin de siecle Paris to rub elbows with Henri Toulouse Lautrec, Paul Gaugin, Edgar Degas, and Henri Matisse, who universally declare that their age is devoid of new ideas and long for the Renaissance. The grass is always greener on the other side of the century, apparently. This is all a cautionary fable about nostalgia, and it is perhaps a little too cute, but just barely. Overall not a bad flick, but not really a Best Picture nominee.

Moneyball. As a true life telling of recent events with a larger-than-life central figure, “Moneyball” desperately wants to be “The Social Network.” It just ... isn’t. Which is not to say that it is a bad movie; it’s just not a great movie, and not worthy of a Best Picture nomination. This movie is about the game behind the game of baseball. About how a small-market, low-budget team can compete with the Big Boys. (Although it’s never really explained why Oakland - immersed in the great megalopolis of the Bay Area - counts as a small-market team.) Brad Pitt plays Billy Beane, a failed baseball phenom who is now in the front office of the Oakland A’s and is tired of painstakingly developing players only to have them snatched away by richer teams. Jonah Hill offers strong support in his first attempt at not playing an adolescent buffoon. Overall this is a cute little movie that is surprisingly entertaining, but it deserves neither a Best Picture nomination nor Pitt’s best actor nod, and I would claim that Philip Seymour Hoffman’s portrayal of Art Howe - the gruff and plainspoken manager of the A’s - was more deserving of a Best Supporting Actor nomination than was Hill.

The Tree of Life. Really? I mean ... REALLY?? Look. I’m as big a fan of experimental cinema as anyone, but when an experiment does a total face-plant the appropriate response is to applaud the courage of those involved and politely agree never to speak of it again, NOT nominate the unholy mess for Best Picture. There are at least two and maybe three movies mashed up here. The most coherent involves a family dealing with the loss of one of three sons in 1950s American suburbia. Brad Pitt plays the stern, authoritarian father and Sean Penn - woefully underutilized (does he even speak?) - plays one of the surviving sons grown to adulthood. This part of the movie flashes back and forth between 50s suburban childhood (shot in warm, nostalgic colors) and adult urban isolation in the present (shot in cold harsh tones). If director Terrence Malick had simply stuck to this narrative he could probably have produced a decent film. But he is undone by his ambitions: like physicists struggling towards a Theory of Everything, Malick yearns to make a Movie of Everything. And so, apropos of nothing, we are treated to shots of cosmogenesis, planetary evolution, the creation of life, and the rise of the dinosaurs. These scenes are interspersed with the Pitt/Penn narrative with neither warning nor explanation, rhyme nor reason. This leaves the viewer struggling to make sense of what they are seeing, and the film could be applauded as thought-provoking if there were any reward to those efforts. But there is simply no coherent connection between Sean Penn standing isolated in his skyscraper and a plesiosaur dying on the beach. I really think the only reason this mess was nominated was so that those snobs in Cannes (it won the Palme d’Or) wouldn’t think that the Academy was full of idiots. That, and it’s got Pitt and Penn, so how bad could it be? Pretty bad, as it turns out.

War Horse. Your opinion of this movie will likely depend upon your opinion of horses. If you think that horses are quasi-magical creatures - practically unicorns! - with near-human intellect and powers of empathy (in other words: if you are a ten-year-old girl) then you probably don’t like war movies. But if for some reason you did decide to see a war movie, boy, is this the war movie for you. If, on the other hand, you think horses are big, smelly stupid and useless then not so much. So there’s this horse, see? And it must be a really great horse because pretty much everyone who comes in contact with it goes all misty-eyed and weak in the knees over it. The first to do so is a Soppy English Lad who raises him up and names him Joey, which is almost as dumb a name for a horse as “War Horse” is for a movie. Anyway, there’s a war coming and the horse is sold to a British calvary officer who promises to take good care of him and then promptly leads a calvary charge into a bank of machine guns. That works out about as well as you would expect, and the horse falls into German hands. Through a series of increasingly unlikely events the horse ends up at the front, where it freaks out and storms off into no-man’s land, crashes through several barricades, and becomes hopelessly entangled in barbed wire (see above re: horses are stupid). All this while the Soppy English Lad has not been idle. He lied about his age and entered the army in hopes of finding his horse, proving that the horse isn’t the only stupid one. And he’s managed to get a face full of mustard gas, just to show he’s not totally worthless. Against all odds, the Soppy English Lad is reunited with his Joey and he rides home triumphantly. To his mother. There’s a good idea buried in all of this: the trials of war are shown from a variety of perspectives - British calvary, German artillery, occupied French, and British and German infantry - through the artifice of following the adventures of this horse. But the horse is portrayed in a glowing light with such super-human nobility that unless you are a bona fide horse person it will probably prove too much to swallow. Oh, and apparently World War I sucked. Just like this movie.

So which will win? In my mind it basically comes down to “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” or “Hugo”. I think “Hugo” provides a richer cinematic experience (in a 3D theater, of course), but “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is a richer story that will hold up better under repeated viewings. One thing I really liked about “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is that it has some very interesting plot twists (no, not the mute boarder - it’s obvious that’s his grandfather) that are doubly surprising because going in this just doesn’t feel like the sort of movie that would even HAVE plot twists. And they serve to steer the film to a much more satisfying conclusion than the original course could have provided.

But in reality it is a two horse race between “The Artist” and “The Descendants”. The former won the Golden Globe for best Comedy or Musical while the latter won for best drama. Here there can be no such compromise. The smart money is on The Artist both for the novelty factor and because it recalls a bygone era of Hollywood glamor for which the Academy will be too nostalgic to pass up (they should watch “Midnight in Paris” again).

And now to the categories ...

Best Director: Daldry should have been nominated in place of Woody, but this is a race between Hazanavicius and Scorsese. If Marty hadn’t just won recently I think he’d be a shoe-in, but since he already has his Oscar look for a sweep by “The Artist” - Hazanavicius by a nose.

Best Actress: It’s Streep vs. Davis. This is Meryl’s mind-blowing record shattering SEVENTEENTH nomination, against only two wins. Her slugging percentage is not great. I love Meryl and I love the performance and I really really really want her to win. She’s got an outside chance, but look for Viola Davis to get all the help she needs.

Best Supporting Actress: Octavia Spencer is a lock for “The Help”.

Best Actor: Jean Dujardin and George Clooney are the ones to watch here, with Brad Pitt an outside dark horse. The Academy tends to be streaky, so I’m counting on the momentum of “The Artist” to carry the day for Dujardin, but it’s really too close to call.

Best Supporting Actor: Christopher Plummer is a lock for “Beginners”.

Best Art Direction: Hugo ... this is Scorsese’s nod for the incredible use of 3D.

Best Adapted Screenplay: The Descendants ... this is a consolation prize for losing out to “The Artist”. Let’s hope for a better crop of films next year!!

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tediousoscars · 11 years

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2010

Predict-o-meter: This year: 5/6; Total: 33/40 (83%)

Welcome once again to my annual diatribe on all things cinematic. Top to bottom I would say that this year’s class of Best Picture nominees is stronger than last year’s; 2010 is destined to be remembered as the year of the Amazing True Story. Still, the class is not strong enough to justify the ten slots that the Academy, in its infinite wisdom, has decided to nominate again this year. I would much prefer to have a lively debate about the one or two films that should have been nominated in a class of five than have to complain about filling a class of ten with abominations like ... well, I’m getting ahead of myself. In the category of Best Picture the ridiculously numerous nominees are ...

127 Hours. This is a story that is so unbelievable that it must be true. Aron Ralston is an extreme outdoorsman who became trapped for several days (127 hours, to be precise) whilst canyoneering alone in the remote Utah desert. He only survived by - SPOILER ALERT - amputating his own arm. It’s a compelling story, but not one that makes you think, ‘THAT would make a great movie!’ The standard TV movie-of-the-week approach to a story like this would be to concentrate on the back story - who was he, what drove him to such extremes - and then wrap the whole trapped/amputation thing up in the last 20 minutes. But, thankfully, Danny Boyle has other ideas. In real life Aron documents his adventures almost obsessively with a small digital video camera and he used this camera to document his entrapment and record a prolonged goodbye to his family. It is this footage that Boyle uses as the backbone of the movie, with surprising results. Though Ralston (played by Award show co-host James Franco in a nominated role) is realistic about his fate there is little despair or desperation. In fact, there is a surprising amount of humor, though it is fairly black. He takes great joy in the 15 minutes per day of sunlight that he gets, and the crow that flies over at the same time each morning. But eventually he becomes resigned to the fact that his choices are either amputate or die. When he first comes to this conclusion the cheap pocket knife that he has brought with him is so dull from his attempts to chip the rock and free himself that he can’t even break the skin with it. I’m just going to let that sink in for a minute ... okay ... ready? The amputation scene is fairly gruesome, but it’s not drawn out or overplayed. And it’s really not the key to the movie. You can close your eyes or fast forward over it and not really miss much. Franco shows great range in a demanding and intense role. He is onscreen virtually the entire film and for most of it he is flying solo with no one to play off of. Boyle - who also co-wrote the screenplay - does an amazing job of pacing a story that is essentially static. Through flashbacks, daydreams, hallucinations, and the ubiquitous video diary Boyle explores Ralston’s rich emotional landscape at breakneck speed, while the physical landscape is unchanging. It would have been very easy to make a bad movie from this story, but Boyle has made an engaging and inventive film that is well worth seeing, despite the, well, you know.

Black Swan. This is not a cheery little ballerina movie. Oh, there’s plenty of ballet, but the story here is a torturous descent into madness. Best Actress nominee Natalie Portman is Nina Sayers, a top ballerina who is known as a precise technician. As such she is perfect for the role of the White Swan in an upcoming revival of Swan Lake. But it is the darkly passionate Black Swan upon which choreographer/philanderer Thomas Leroy wishes to concentrate, so he initially dismisses Nina as a candidate for the role. Desperate for the part, Nina ventures further and further from her comfort zone ... and sanity. This gradual process is presented in gruesome detail and the film pulses with subsurface tension. There is a scene where Nina is “simply” trimming her fingernails that will make your skin crawl; it is creepier by far than all of the coeds ever hacked to bits in all of the slasher movies ever made put together. This has been called a psychological thriller because you really have no idea what will happen next. In fact, you are never quite sure about what just happened. But the dark atmospherics and smoldering tension make it feel more like a horror film a la Rosemary’s Baby in which the threat is all implied and the struggle is largely internal. Director Darren Aronofsky does a superb job of keeping this film balanced on a knife’s edge and bringing it to a climax that seems sudden and unexpected, but upon further reflection is inevitable and appropriate. Plus, Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis in a lesbian sex scene. Just sayin'.

Inception. I hate this movie. With a searing, seething passion. I could write an entire monograph on why all prints of this film should be collected and burned, but I will restrict myself to two points. First, this is a caper movie, one where the team has to dig deep and go the extra mile in order to Complete the Mission. The tension in such stories arises from the disastrous consequences should the team fail. An asteroid will crash into the Earth; the orcs will conquer Gondor; aliens will eradicate the human race, that sort of thing. So what’s at stake here? The Mission is to trick a British heir into selling his father’s company to a Japanese company that can’t compete with them (no, not kidding). So when the shit hits the fan and everyone is yelling and straining and going to great lengths you can’t help thinking, ‘What’s going through their heads? ‘We can’t fail or else the corrupt and incompetent Japanese will go out of business!!!’ I mean, who cares?’ Plus, they’re in a dream, so if they “die” they just wake up, so no tension. Which brings me to my second point. The premiss of this movie is so stupid that the writers have been sued for stealing the idea from a Scrooge McDuck cartoon (again, not kidding). But that’s fine; virtually every sci-fi and fantasy movie ever made has had a silly premiss. What’s required is a coherent inner logic that allows the viewer to suspend belief in the rules governing the real world and temporarily adopt belief in the rules of the movie world. The writers of Inception make a passing attempt to construct some internal rules but they add so many clauses and exceptions that the result is a morass of gibberish that even THEY can’t keep straight and so they blatantly violate their own rules. When this film mercifully limps to an end we’re supposed to be tied up in knots trying to figure out if the top stops spinning because (work with me here) supposedly if it stops spinning our “hero” is in the real world but if it doesn’t he’s still in a dream. But judging by the gaping logical inconsistencies in the rest of the movie if it’s a Tuesday after 4pm with a waxing moon then it means that he is suddenly transported to Pittsburgh. WHO CARES? This movie is a train wreck. Only the train is filled with mayonnaise and it’s crashing into a whale in the middle of the Sahara. Stupid, stupid, stupid movie.

The Fighter. I’ll never understand Hollywood’s fascination with boxing movies, but like most great boxing movies (Million Dollar Baby) The Fighter isn’t really about boxing. It’s about redemption, and family, and loyalty and (belatedly) coming of age and a whole host of things besides, with a little boxing thrown in on the side. The Ward/Eckland clan is an unruly mob: seven daughters, two sons, and a mother (Melissa Leo in a stunning (and nominated) role) with the subtlety of a freight train and the temper of a typhoon. And there’s a husband and an ex or two, but they mainly cower in the corner trying not to attract attention. Both of the boys are world-class boxers, but it’s the women you don’t want to cross. The older boy, Dicky Eckland (played with reckless abandon by Christian Bale in a nominated role) once fought Sugar Ray Leonard and knocked him down (although there are those who claim that Leonard slipped). Those were the glory days, but now he is a 40-year-old crack addled petty criminal. He and his domineering mother are allegedly managing the career of younger half-brother Micky Ward (Marky Mark Wahlberg showing off his Boston roots once again) but are getting nowhere. Dicky ends up in jail (again) and the family hits rock bottom when the HBO documentary that they thought was about Dicky’s always impending boxing comeback turns out to actually be about his crack addiction. Micky casts off his troublesome family and turns to his cute new girlfriend Charlene (Amy Adams, nominated yet again), and you think that’s it. You think this is a story of a good man saddled with an insane family who finally achieves the success he deserves once he learns to stand up for himself. And it is, sort of. But while Micky is getting his career in order and working his way to a title shot, Dicky is in jail, cleaning up, getting in shape, and reassessing his life. When Dicky gets out just as Micky is preparing for his championship bout it appears as though all hell will break loose, everyone will fall back into their bad habits and the wheels will come off the wagon. But Micky stands up to his mother, and Dicky reconciles (sort of) with Charlene and the entire family pulls together for the common good. It’s a complex story featuring a lot of strong personalities. I was reluctant at first, but the film wears you down like Micky in the ring and eventually wins you over. And the boxing sequences are quite good. Very realistic without the usual Hollywood slow-mo blood gushing hype.

The Kids Are All Right. This is one of those cases in which the film suffers from high expectations. The premiss is cute, Mark Ruffalo looked perfectly scruffily clueless in the trailer (but Best Supporting Actor? Please), and Julianne Moore is usually worth the price of admission all by herself. Throw in up-and-comer Mia Wasikowska and it would seem this was a slam dunk. At best it’s a free throw that rolls around the rim three times before reluctantly dropping. Nic and Jules are a middle-aged, comfortable lesbian couple who each have a teenaged child by the same supposedly anonymous sperm donor. When the kids track him down and attempt to integrate him into the family routine mayhem predictably ensues. Don’t get me wrong; this is not a bad movie. The relationships that develop are complex and unpredictable. It is younger brother Laser who presses reluctant sister Joni (recently 18 and so legally empowered) to find their dad, but when they meet him Laser has almost no interest and Joni is totally charmed. Likewise, Annette Bening’s Nic, who is initially mistrustful and disdainful, is gradually won over, and is then enraged and vengeful. It is a strong performance with a great range that earned her a Best Actress nomination. But it is exactly one of these unpredictable relationship developments that is the film’s Achilles heal, in my opinion. Julianne Moore’s Jules suddenly and inexplicably falls into bed with sperm donor Paul, which sort of supports the stereotype that a lesbian is simply a woman who hasn’t yet found a Good Man. Plus, as an avid fan of The Who, I’ve gotta ask: How can you make a film called The Kids Are All Right without using the song in the soundtrack?? This is an entertaining flick and a solid rental, but not Best Picture material by any stretch of the imagination.

The King’s Speech. Yet another Amazing True Story that feels like a throwback to the Merchant Ivory period pieces of 80s and 90s - right down to Helena Bonham Carter tossing off the goth get-ups and getting back to her roots. This is the story of King George VI of England, who was thrust onto the throne after his brother, Edward VIII, abdicated for the love of American divorcee Wallis Simpson just as the storm clouds of World War II were gathering. All would have been well were it not for the recent advent of radio, which required the King to be the familiar voice of comfort and inspiration to the nation, rather than merely waving regally from afar and issuing written proclamations, as was the wont of previous Kings. King George, you see, had a debilitating stammer that made delivering a public address a humiliating nightmare. The story here is of the unlikely friendship that developed between the King and his wife and an unconventional and uncredentialed Australian speech therapist (Colin Firth, Helena Bonham Carter, and Geoffrey Rush, respectively - all nominated). This is a strong (if frightfully British) character-driven screenplay that focusses on the bonds of mutual respect and admiration that develop between the three principals. Historically important externalities like Edward’s Nazi sympathizing and the decision of the Royal Family to remain in London during the barrage are barely touched upon. This is impressive since such automatically dramatic plot points could easily have been used as crutches to prop this movie up. Yet it stands on the strength of superlative character development and virtuoso performances.

The Social Network. I really wanted to hate this movie. Hell I didn’t even want to SEE this movie, and wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been nominated. Mark Zuckerberg is an egomaniacal tool and Facebook is an irrelevant time sink. I wanted to hate it. But I just couldn’t. This is a surprisingly good movie and an astounding achievement in storytelling given that there is not a single likable character to be found in it. Everyone is shallow and conniving and petty with facile motivations and foul intentions. Everyone. And yet the story is completely engrossing and expertly presented in flashbacks seamlessly interwoven with scenes of testimony from the various depositions of all of the various lawsuits (basically everyone sues everyone). The cast is strong throughout: Jesse Eisenberg as Zuckerberg proves that he is not just a Michael Cera clone and actually has some acting chops (and deserves his Best Actor nomination), and Justin Timberlake is excellent as (web) celebrity douchebag Sean Parker, although one suspects the role was not much of a stretch. There are even some great special effects, as both Winklevoss twins are played by Armie Hammer, but you will swear that you can tell them apart. And the screenplay is tight; perfectly paced with lots of great dialogue. (A personal fave is when Tyler Winkelvoss argues for beating the crap out of Zuckerberg by saying, “I’m 6’5”, 220 pounds, and there’s two of me.”) You know you are in for some great storytelling when the film opens with a computer hacking sequence ... and it’s riveting. Hollywood has been attempting to produce an entertaining depiction of hacking ever since Matthew Broderick booked a flight to Paris in War Games - and they’ve largely failed. David Fincher finally cracks that nut here, makes it look effortless, and never looks back. The Social Network has been called the first great movie about the 21st century. I might quibble that United 93 holds that honor, but I don’t think it is hyperbole to call this film great.

Toy Story 3. Really? What, are we gonna nominate every Pixar movie from now on? I mean, I thought nominating Up last year was a bit of a stretch, but at least in that case there was the amazing life summary montage that sort of set it apart from your typical kid’s movie. There is nothing of the sort here. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve seen every Pixar movie and I’ve enjoyed them all. Toy Story 3 is very cute - Spanish-mode Buzz is not to be missed. But Best Picture? I’m not even sure it’s the best animated film this year (Despicable Me, How to Train Your Dragon), let alone the best film overall. And this sort of begs the question of why there is a separate category for animated films if we’re gonna nominate one for Best Picture every year.

True Grit. I’m not a big fan of remakes in general. And remaking a classic like True Grit takes cajones the size of Tejas. But after a weak showing last year with A Serious Man the Coen Brothers are BACK, baby. There is beautiful cinematography and terrific performances (Best Actor and Supporting Actress nominations), but the engine that drives this film forward is the dialogue. The characters all speak as though they learned English from Yosemite Sam after he swallowed a Bible. And a thesaurus. And yet they make it feel utterly natural, which is at once off-putting and alluring. This is the story of Mattie Ross, a 14 year-old force of nature obsessed with bringing her father’s killer to justice who teams up with Rooster Cogburn, a broken down and world weary US Marshal, essentially because he is the meanest sumbitch in the room. The original 1969 version suffered a bit from the fact that by the time it was filmed John Wayne had already attained iconic legend status, which prevented him from exploring some of the more debased corners of Rooster Cogburn’s psyche. Jeff Bridges has no such compunctions. His Rooster is dirtier, smellier, drunker, and - dare I say it? - grittier. And the Coen Brothers can’t help a little one-ups-manship either. The original film ends with Rooster escorting young Mattie safely back to her homestead in Yell County, where she naively invites him to be buried (eventually) in the family graveyard. Rooster chuckles and rides off merrily into the sunset. The updated version ends with Mattie grown into a joyless, one-armed spinster who comes to collect Rooster’s corpse and plant it - much to the consternation of her gossiping neighbors - in the family plot. How’s that for grit? This is a classic modern western in the vein of Clint Eastwood’s later films, well-crafted and highly entertaining.

Winter’s Bone. I actually enjoy movies that provide a slice-of-life view of some exotic culture or esoteric tribe. It’s just a little disconcerting when the tribe in question hails from the wilds of modern-day Missouri and is so, well, foreign. I’ve seen films about paleolithic Eskimos in which the prevailing culture was easier to relate to. Young Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence in a nominated role) is attempting to navigate a world where men with names like Teardrop and Thump brim with menace and a simple question (“Have you seen my Dad?”) leads to sudden violence that is all the more shocking due to the languid pacing of most of the story. Ree and her kid siblings are collateral damage in a war between rival hillbilly drug lords that is every bit as surreal as it sounds. The mundane physical setting masks a psychological landscape that is tense and unpredictable. Ree seems to be the only sane person in the film as she naively navigates this bizarre terrain in an attempt to save her family from homelessness. Her motivations are clear and her actions seem logical. But at every turn she is confronted by a stultifyingly insular culture that simply leaves you shaking your head thinking, ‘Wait ... what?’ In a sense the story parallels that of True Grit: a precocious young girl is forced to prematurely assume the mantle of adulthood by the murder of her father. But whereas Mattie had a US Marshal and a Texas Ranger backing her play, Ree is on her own, working without a net. The performances are strong - although I’m not sure that John Hawkes’ Teardrop is on screen long enough to warrant his Supporting Actor nomination - and the story is engaging, if a bit difficult. The cinematography and art direction are easy to overlook since the locations are drab and dreary and the sets are shabby and claustrophobic - but that’s exactly the point. The film doesn’t look like a Hollywood interpretation of backwoods hillbillies, it looks totally authentic. Not lighthearted fare, but worth a look if you are interested in a taut thriller off the beaten path.

So which will win? In my heart of hearts, it is a two-horse race between Black Swan and True Grit. I think Black Swan provides the more powerful viewing experience, but I think True Grit will hold up better under repeated viewings, so I’m going with True Grit. In the real world it is also a two-horse race, but in reality the horses are The King’s Speech and The Social Network. In fact, Best Director and Best Picture are really the only categories in any serious doubt this year, and they are both near toss-ups between the King and the Network. Many are predicting a split bill with one movie taking Picture and the other Director. So let’s get to the predictions.

Best Picture: The King’s Speech should edge out The Social Network here, but it will be close.

Best Director: I’m going with David Fincher (The Social Network) here, on the split-bill theory, but it is really too close to call. (Tom Hooper)

Best Actress: This has been billed as the ingenue (Portman) vs. the Grand Dame (Bening), but that is a bit disingenuous. At 29 with over 20 major films to her credit Portman is hardly an ingenue, and Bening really hasn’t been relevant enough to be considered Grand. Portman is a huge natural talent who has been hampered by some odd career choices (Thor? Really?) but she should come away with a richly deserved win here. Plus, with The King’s Speech and The Social Network slugging it out in several major categories this may be seen as a way to prevent the highly popular Black Swan from being totally snubbed.

Best Actor: Colin Firth in a landslide. The Academy loves disabilities.

Best Supporting Actress: Melissa Leo is the strongest candidate here, but she may have shot herself in the foot with an ad in Variety that she claims was merely an attempt to address the ageism in Hollywood, but many have interpreted as a near desperate plea for Oscar votes. In the end I don’t think the Academy is hypocritical enough to penalize someone for self promotion, so she should still win.

Best Supporting Actor: Christian Bale should make it a twofer for The Fighter. Geoffrey Rush has an outside chance, but overall this is a weak group and Bale’s performance is clearly the strongest.

Now that THAT’s over I have to plug a couple of my guilty pleasures for your renting consideration. First is Easy A, which is basically The Scarlet Letter as viewed through the prism of a John Hughes 80s high school movie. Emma Stone gives a tour de force performance in the lead and overall the film is so good that indie titans Patricia Clarkson and Stanley Tucci are relegated to minor supporting roles. Second is Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. If you’ve ever enjoyed reading a comic book, playing a video game, or listening to punk rock then you owe it to yourself to see this movie. And - writers of Inception take note - this is an excellent example of a film with a stupid premiss that works wonderfully because it has a taut and coherent inner logic that the writers respect and take seriously. That’s it until next year; enjoy the show!

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tediousoscars · 11 years

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2009

Predict-o-meter: This year: 6/6; Total: 28/34 (82%)

Ten? Seriously? Ten? How can this be seen as anything but a cynical grab for money? More nominees = more box office thanks to saps like me who feel obligated to see them all. Sigh.

It’s clearly ridiculous to have ten nominees so I will break them up into the Contenders - films that would have had a snowball’s chance in hell of being nominated in a normal, 5-nominee year - and the Pretenders - films that … not so much.

THE CONTENDERS

Avatar. I went into Avatar expecting to be dazzled but ultimately disappointed. I expected, in short, a SPECIAL EFFECTS movie; long on amazing visuals, short on pretty much everything else. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually a Special Effects Movie. There’s a coherent if outlandish plot and even - what’s this? - character development. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t Shakespeare - more like “Dances with Wolves” in outer space. And the effects do steal the show, but at least there is a show. For all his annoying self-important bloviating James Cameron really has invented something here. This film will be listed along with “Jurassic Park” and “Tron” (don’t laugh!) as a touchstone in the development of computer-generated movie effects. It’s stunning. Yes the dialogue is often stilted and silly, and yes you can practically see the villains twirling their mustaches, but it’s engaging and entertaining and you want to know what will happen next but are never quite sure. There’s even some gritty realism in the sense that many of your favorite characters don’t make it though the climactic battle. Well worth seeing, and well worth seeing in IMAX 3D, as God (or at least James Cameron) intended.

The Hurt Locker. This is an excellent nomination. Made for roughly 1% of Avatar’s budget both movies are essentially adrenaline soaked thrillers. But while Avatar is all high octane flashy spectacle the source of The Hurt Locker’s adrenaline is all smoldering tension. The film’s pedigree (it started as a story written by a reporter imbedded with a bomb squad in Iraq) comes through and makes it feel more like a documentary than a work of fiction. There is no proselytizing or ham-fisted message (pro or anti) about the war here. It is simply an unblinking look into the lives and lifestyles of men who have arguably the most dangerous job in the most inhospitable conditions in the world. It is a credit to director Kathryn Bigelow that she stays out of the way of this compelling story. Here’s a guy intentionally walking towards a bomb that could very well kill him. What more drama do you need? None. In an interesting twist, the only recognizable faces here - Guy Pierce and Ralph Fiennes - have their appearances cut short by sudden meaningless deaths. The subtle emotional impact of this is surprising: as a moviegoer you are conditioned to think “Oh I know that guy, he’s gonna live.” Oops. The subliminal message here is that no one is special in war; no one is safe in war. If you want even a hint of what is going on in Iraq - not the plot lines, but how life there feels - then this is the movie for you.

Inglourious Basterds. Ok I admit it. I love Quentin Tarantino’s movies. He may be a snotty little prick and a tool, but he makes amazing movies. But I acknowledge that his style is not for everyone. If you’ve ever liked one of his previous films then this is a must see. But more importantly, if you haven’t liked his previous stuff you should still consider giving this one a try. This is a Spaghetti Western set in Nazi-occupied France. But this is not your father’s WWII; in this version a roving band of Jewish Americans roam the countryside waging Comanche war - complete with scalping - on the Nazis. All of Tarantino’s hallmarks are here: the intricate dialogue, strong female characters, and graphic violence. But in this outing the violence is a seasoning rather than the main course. Besides, it’s totally justified - they’re Nazis! And the whole movie is tempered by a surprising level of comedy. Brad Pitt’s impersonation of an Italian film director is worth the price of admission alone. Tarantino has always had an enormous amount of raw talent but he has generally directed it towards the types of movies he liked when he was ten. With this film, if he has not fully matured he has at least reached the angry young man stage. His hand is more sure and there is less gimmickry, but the gift for story and dialogue is undiminished.

Precious. This is a gripping story about the indomitability of the human spirit. Precious Jones is mired in some of the most dire circumstances one can imagine. She’s an obese, illiterate, inner-city teenager who is pregnant with her second child. By her father. Who has HIV. Her mother (played by comedienne Mo’Nique in a gruesomely awesome performance) is basically an irredeemable monster who hates her child for “stealing” her man and heaps emotional and physical abuse upon her. The final straw seems to come when Precious is suspended from her public school. However, one of her teacher’s has noticed a spark of ability in math and literally on her way out the door of the school she is directed to an “alternative” school in a last ditch, probably futile attempt to redirect her life from the path to disaster. She goes to the school almost without knowing why; it’s little more than an excuse to get away from her mother. But there she - gradually, painstakingly - learns not only to read and write, but to Write. She finds her voice, discovers a sense of self-worth, and takes control of her life. The (somewhat laborious) subtitle to this movie is “Based on the novel Push by Sapphire” and I found myself repeating “based on the NOVEL” over and over again as a sort of mantra during some of the more difficult passages. That this movie can delve into such gut wrenching terrain and yet never veer into either maudlin self-pity or heartless horror is a minor miracle. A less minor miracle is that all of this could be done with a cast of pop stars seemingly plucked at random from the set of TMZ: Mariah Carey, Mo’Nique, and Lenny Kravitz?? Clearly not light popcorn fare, but well worth seeing.

Up in the Air. If you’ve ever had a nonnegative thought about George Clooney then this is the movie for you. This film is all Clooney, all the time. And it’s Clooney at his Clooney-est. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing I will leave to the reader, but for my money the real reasons to see this movie are the two supporting actress roles - both nominated. Anna Kendrick plays Natalie Keener, a recent Ivy League grad and Eager Beaver sent out on the road with Clooney’s cynical and misanthropic Ryan Bingham (he fires people for a living). Vera Farmiga plays Alex Goran, seemingly Bingham’s female alter ego and fellow road warrior. My favorite scenes are actually the scenes between the three of them where the wizened veterans dispense pseudo-parental advice to the ingenue. Both women give strong performances, but I liked Farmiga’s Alex better. Although neither has a chance of winning due to the steamroller that is Mo’Nique. I’m a sucker for nonstandard, not-quite-happy endings, and so my favorite part of this movie is that Bingham seems to be headed for redemption. He achieves all of his shallow goals only to realize that they are meaningless without someone to share them. He abandons his (misanthropic) principles and rushes off to live Happily Ever After only to be shot down and sent back to his tiny, sterile apartment alone. Whether he reverts to his previous loner lifestyle or has his outlook on life genuinely changed is left largely as an exercise to the viewer, which makes the film more thought provoking than it otherwise would be. I was on the fence here whether this is a legitimate Best Picture contender, but the great supporting performances barely tipped the scales in its favor.

THE PRETENDERS

Before we get into this let me just say that both Invictus and Crazy Heart would have been better nominations than any of the five films below. It’s bad enough that Gran Torino wasn’t a nominee (much less the winner) last year but now you’re telling me that with TEN freaking slots you can’t find room for Invictus? Why you gotta be hatin’ the Clint?

Anyway, here they are. God knows why.

An Education. The primary reason to see this movie is Carey Mulligan, who is garnering comparisons to Audrey Hepburn for her turn as the smart but naive teen Jenny in this coming of age story. Mulligan’s Jenny is a witty straight A student who is a good girl but bored by high school and appalled by her parents painfully middle-class pedestrian ambitions for her to get into Oxford for the sole purpose of finding a husband. As such she is a perfect target for the charming David (Peter Sarsgaard) and his seemingly elegant friends. They are, of course, little more than two-bit con men and things go horribly wrong, but the genius of this movie is that it doesn’t succumb to easy cliches and stereotypes. Jenny is young and naive, but she’s not a clueless victim. David is a petty con man, but he’s not a heartless monster. This is a pleasant little movie filled with compelling characters, and Mulligan deserves her kudos, but it is not Best Picture material.

A Serious Man. This is perhaps the most difficult film on the list. Not the most difficult to watch - that distinction goes to Precious - but the most difficult to pry meaning from. Taken at face value A Serious Man is a fairly pedestrian and banal tale of suburban angst. Make that Jewish suburban angst. But there is, apparently, a vast ocean of seething subtext to be plumbed here if only one has the inclination and the energy. I, apparently, do not. Supposedly this is a brilliant exposition on the nature of faith and the meaning of being Jewish in the modern world, and supposedly it is all uproariously funny. I am usually a huge fan of the Coen Brothers, but in this case I just didn’t get the joke and didn’t see the point. Easily my least favorite film on the list and not even close to Best Picture. It couldn’t even be the valet to park Best Picture’s car. It’s not that it’s BAD, exactly, it’s just … blah.

District 9. Like Avatar, I got more movie than I bargained for here. I was expecting a harmless little low-budget sci-fi flick and was pleasantly surprised to find that it is actually a pretty good movie. Aliens arrive in a broken ship like castaways on a desert isle. They come to rest not over Washington or New York or London or Moscow, but Johannesburg, South Africa. The arthropod aliens, derogatorily called “prawns”, are placed in a refugee camp called District 9, which is overseen by a UN-style bureaucracy. When they outgrow their confines it is up to career bureaucrat Wikus van de Merw to oversee the relocation. Of course, mayhem ensues. This film breaks with many time-honored alien invasion traditions (Johannesburg? Really?). For instance, the age-old conundrum of communicating with aliens is simply brushed aside: the Prawns speak Prawn and the humans speak English and they understand each other - you got a problem with that? There are, of course, some inconsistencies. The primary obsession of the film’s villains is mastering the superior alien weaponry, which seems to be keyed to their DNA. This begs the question: If the aliens have such superior weaponry why are they living in a shanty town? But the real point of this movie is an examination of the nature of prejudice (Oh! Johannesburg!) and human - err, prawn dignity. District 9 manages to pull this off and still deliver as a sci-fi thriller. It’s surprisingly good given the low expectations, but it is not a Best Picture contender.

The Blind Side. Like Precious this film features a large black illiterate teenager on the precipice who is ultimately redeemed. But the comparison ends there. Michael “Don’t call me Big Mike” Oher is plucked from the wrong side of the tracks by upper middle-class housewife and force of nature Leigh Anne Tuohy, played with surprising aplomb by Sandra Bullock. This is the Feel Good movie done right. Yes, you basically know what’s going to happen from the get-go (although the NCAA investigation into boosterism is an interesting twist) but the story is allowed to unfold in an unforced manner and the route to the inevitable destination is entertaining. And, oh, also unlike Precious this actually is based on a true story. And you’re glad it is (although warning to Spartan fans: contains Nick Saban). A great story and an entertaining film, but Best Picture? I think not.

Up. This movie pitches a curveball from the opening credits. You go in expecting a kid’s movie about talking dogs and what you’re served up right off the bat is an artful, eloquent, and touching summation of a human life in a ten-minute wordless montage that should be shown in film school as a canonical example of visual story telling. It is, quite frankly, one of the most succinct and complete establishments of a character that I have ever seen. But never fear! Talking dogs await. By now Pixar is known as the studio that never misses. Obviously they create great characters and tell great stories, but a major component of their success is, I think, that they create fantastical logical frameworks for their movies, and then take them seriously. There are a lot of things that happen in Pixar movies that don’t make any sense in our world, but everything always makes sense in the world created for the film. So it is with Up, which is all technicolor birds named Kevin, zeppelins, floating houses, and talking dogs in aerial combat (get it?). On the face of it none of it makes much sense, but there is a consistent logic to the cacophony and the characters react and develop in ways that feel real. It’s gorgeous and heartwarming and action packed and insightful all at the same time; a kid’s movie with surprising depth. It’s a virtual lock for Best Animated Feature, but doesn’t have a talking dog’s chance of flying for Best Picture.

So which will win? This has shaped up as the Battle of the Exes (James Cameron and Kathryn Bigelow were married once) and David vs. Goliath as the two leading contenders are the tiny - almost claustrophobic - The Hurt Locker and the gargantuan Avatar. And it’s getting ugly: One of the producers of The Hurt Locker has been banned from the ceremony for trashing Avatar in an eMail he distributed to Academy members to campaign for his film. It’s probably too close to call. The smart money is on Avatar but I’m going with The Hurt Locker. Why? Cameron’s already won once and it would be the first woman-directed film to ever win, which I think many in the Academy may find compelling. Plus you gotta love the underdog.

My pick? I would love to see Inglourious Basterds win. But in reality it is a distant third at best.

Best Actress: Sandra Bullock is actually making a run at being the first person in history to win the Worst Actress Razzie (for All About Steve - which she accepted in person (which is extremely rare)) and the Best Actress Oscar in the same year. She’s got some stiff competition, however, from perennial nominee Meryl Streep for channeling Julia Childs in Julie & Julia. Again it’s too close to call, but I’m going with Sandra.

Best Actor: Jeff Bridges adds an Oscar to his Golden Globe.

Best Supporting Actress: This is a three-way race between Mo’Nique, Mo’Nique, and Mo’Nique. You go girl; it is well deserved.

Best Supporting Actor: Christolph Waltz, for the most charmingly evil Nazi you’ve ever met in Inglourious Basterds. A chillingly good performance.

Best Director: Look for Kathryn Bigelow to become the first woman to ever win Best Director. This is especially true if Avatar wins Best Picture; I have a sneaking suspicion that there were a lot of split ballots out there who awarded Avatar for the box office and Bigelow for the film.

That’s it for this year. Enjoy the show!

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tediousoscars · 11 years

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2008

Predict-o-meter: This year: 5/6; Total: 22/28 (79%)

Now don’t get me wrong: all of the movies in this year’s Oscar class are strong “Two thumbs up!” recommendations. But a couple of them make you scratch your head and go, “Best Picture?!?? What were they thinking?” So let’s take a look at the class, weed out the weaklings, and recommend some stronger films that SHOULD have been nominated.

And in the category of Best Picture the nominees are:

Frost / Nixon. What sounds like a dry PBS special going in is actually a very entertaining story about how a feckless gadfly of a talk show host obtained the biggest “get” of the 70s and ultimately - against all odds - effectively wrung a confession out of Richard Nixon. Initially conceived as little more than a publicity stunt by the playboy Frost to regain a foothold in the US television market, the lengthy interview becomes both a quixotic quest as Frost struggles to secure funding and an outlet, and a metaphor for gladiatorial combat in which the winner takes all. The climactic scene of the movie is a drunken phone call that Nixon makes to Frost before the final interview session - the one covering Watergate - in which the disgraced President draws parallels between the two men’s lives, points out that the interviews are a struggle in which each of them is desperately trying to regain the lost spotlight, and assures the apparently overmatched Frost that it is a struggle that he, Nixon, fully intends to win. This motivates Frost to finally get serious and he comes to the last session loaded for bear. The principals here - Frank Langella as Nixon and Michael Sheen as Frost - reprise their roles from the original London run of the play on which the movie is based and this familiarity shows: they inhabit their respective characters with convincing ease. Langella in particular - who bears only a passing physical resemblance to the ex-President - virtually channels Nixon as soon as he opens his mouth.

Milk. In eight years Harvey Milk went from being a closeted insurance salesman furtively picking up men in New York subway stations to the de facto President of Gay America - the first openly gay person to hold elected office (San Francisco City Supervisor) in America, or, for that matter, the world. Along the way he became a pioneer of the Gay Rights movement and was instrumental in the defeat of the Anita-Bryant-backed California Proposition 6, a piece of antigay legislation that would not only have removed gay teachers from their jobs, but also any teachers who “supported” gays. This story is told very well in the film. It is the intertwining story of Dan White - fellow City Supervisor, eventual murderer, and employer of the famous “Twinkie defense” - that is given short shrift. White resigned his post (Why? We are never told.) and then promptly asked for it back. Milk, who saw White as a threat to his progressive agenda, flexed his political muscles (this is San Francisco, after all) and convinced the Mayor to refuse White’s request for reinstatement. In response White shot and killed them both. In the film this all comes out of the blue. The relationship between Milk and White is portrayed as strained, but hardly dysfunctional. The irony is that, as an openly gay politician, Milk knew he was a target. The movie is framed by scenes of Sean Penn’s Milk reciting a speech into a tape recorder that is only to be played in the event of his assassination. But Milk never suspected that the fatal bullets would come from a colleague. And maybe that’s the point. Since the events were totally unexpected by Milk and the film is presented from Milk’s perspective they are totally unexpected by us. This makes the film unsatisfying and incomplete. The story is only half told. Harvey Milk’s motivations at each step are carefully examined and skillfully presented. Dan White’s motivations are ignored. Maybe it really was the twinkies after all.

Slumdog Millionaire. This is not the movie you think it is. The story implied by the title - a rags-to-riches romp - is not the story of the film. No, this is a love story about two star-crossed (That doesn’t quite cover it. Galaxy-crossed? Universe-crossed?) lovers. Turns out the titular slumdog doesn’t even care about the money. The only reason he’s on the show is that he knows his childhood friend turned ill-fated love interest watches it. And yet he keeps answering questions. So many, in fact, that at the end of the day he is suspected of fraud and investigated by police using enhanced interrogation techniques. The movie then unfolds as a series of vignettes from his hard scrabble life, each of which explains how he knew the answer to a specific question. Through these tales the story unfolds of three orphans - two brothers and a tag-along girl - struggling to survive in the slums of Mumbai. The older brother essentially sells his soul in order to protect his younger sibling , who manages to maintain a sense of innocent optimism throughout their ordeals and who forms an immutable bond with the girl. The film succeeds in capturing the incomprehensible contrast and chaos of the world’s largest democracy - color and filth, grandeur and squalor, and all of it teeming with vibrant, violent life. It’s not exactly plausible, but it is at least movie plausible, which is enough to convey an entrancing tale. But be warned - life doesn’t get much harder than being an orphan in an Indian slum. These kids earn Ph.D.s from the School of Hard Knocks, and the movie unflinchingly shows their tribulations in disturbing detail. That they emerge from all of this with their humanity intact - to say nothing of 20 million rupees - is nothing short of miraculous.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Curious indeed. This is a very well-constructed and well-acted movie. The albatross around its neck is the radical plot device of a man who is born old, ages backwards, and dies an infant. If you are going to construct such an elaborate device then you’d better have a reason - some facet of the human condition that is better illuminated when viewed from such a peculiar angle. But this movie offers nothing of the sort. It’s a nice little love story and an entertaining film, but nothing more.

The Reader. This film begins as a quaint little tale of a 30-something woman who falls into an improbable relationship with a teenaged boy, and then suddenly takes a left turn into - wait for it - The Holocaust, before addressing that age-old question: What’s more embarrassing to admit? Burning Jews alive, or illiteracy? The answer will surprise you. This is a claustrophobic study of the human condition in extreme and extremely odd situations. The muted lighting and drab color palette perfectly captures postwar Germany, and the story is compelling (once you get past an inevitable forehead slap or two). The main weakness is that the unusual relationship at the center of the film is completely unmotivated. She finds the boy sick on her doorstep one afternoon after school, takes him in, cleans him up, and sends him on his way. After a weeks-long recovery he drops by to say thanks and they fall into bed. Huh? This is the basis for what will become a lifelong relationship. It is a classic movie mistake: two people form a lasting bond for no other reason than they have reached page 3 in the script and it says so right there.

So there you have it. One great movie and four good movies (Slumdog is a lock to win, by the way). So now let’s look at some movies that are better than most of those above, and one that is better than all of them.

Doubt. The title is essentially a one-word plot summary. This film is all innuendo and suspicion and its genius lies in never coming clean. Inevitably you will be forced to think about this film in detail in order to answer for yourself the question that the film leaves open: Did anything happen? In doing so you will inevitably be faced by the fact that perfectly normal expressions of appropriate caring and concern can look sinister when cast in a certain light. And what that says about us and our society is what this film is really all about. Meryl Streep knocks another performance out of the park (and masters yet another accent) and Amy Adams is nominated for essentially the same role she was nominated for in “Junebug” - just with a nun’s habit and without, you know, the pregnancy. They and Hoffman all richly deserve their nominations, which begs the question how can you have three of the best performances of the year in one movie and not have it at least considered for Best Picture?

Gran Torino. Clint! Need I say more? Well, OK. Clint’s Walt Kowalski is established in the opening scenes (dealing with his wife’s funeral) as a curmudgeon’s curmudgeon, except without any of the hidden heart of gold that term usually implies. This is a man carved from granite. Hard. Immutable. And did I mention hard? But, like “Slumdog Millionaire,” this is also not the movie you think it is. You think it is a tale of redemption, of a bitter old racist coming to respect his Hmong neighbors, realizing the error of his ways, and repenting. It’s not. Kowlaski is a man of deep unshakable principles and every single action he takes in this film is, in retrospect, completely consistent with those principles. Normal movies follow characters as they change and grow, but this film documents the progress of a man who molds the universe around him to conform to his unchanging character. The writers of “The Reader” should take note. THIS is how you establish a serious bond between disparate characters. Slowly, almost unnoticeably, Walt’s attitude towards his young neighbor evolves from disdain, to grudging respect, to actual affection. But this is not due to any change on Walt’s part; it is because Walt comes to recognize his own values - respect for elders, obedience to family, honest hard work - in the Asian boy. So on the one hand this is a sort of buddy movie, in which two guys start out hating each other end up fast friends. And if that were as far as it went it would still be a good movie. But this is Clint. And there is trouble in town. Some outlaws - er - gangstas have moved in and are terrorizing the townsfolk. At its core this film is essentially “Unforgiven” brought into the modern era. And, Clint being Clint, we think we know how this will all end. Clint has, after all, pretty much made a career of single-handedly taking out roving bands of bad guys and saving the town. But Clint throws in a twist and updates the ending as well, providing one that is no less devastating to the ne’er-do-wells, but conforms to modern sensibilities and, of course, is consistent with the character of Walt Kowalski. High drama, no small amount of comedy, brilliant character development, and a good story. In other words: Clint!

The Dark Knight. No, I’m not kidding. Look, if a sword and sorcery movie about hobbits can win why not a comic book movie? But this is not your standard comic book fare. First of all, while there are a couple outlandish get-ups there is no one with any super human powers: Batman is just smart and uses gadgets, remember? Besides, Heath Ledger’s Joker steals the show so thoroughly that Batman is little more than an afterthought anyway. In the halls of the Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane the Joker is known as “the crazy one.” And rightly so. For the Joker any actual criminal goal - making money, say - is almost an afterthought. He is really an experimental psychologist carrying out experiments on a scale that can only be described as … insane. Two ferries adrift in the harbor: one full of convicts, the other full of everyday upstanding citizens and both packed with explosives. On each ship is a remote detonator that will blow up the OTHER ship. If neither ship is blown up before the allotted time, or, naturally, if any attempt is made to leave the ships then they will both blow up. What would happen? The Joker’s just gotta know. And that’s not even a major plot point in the movie! This film is shot with such gritty realism that the Batman, in his kitschy costume, almost seems out of place. The only complaint is that it’s a bit long, but that is only because there is so much going on: there are practically two movies here.

All three of these would be better nominees than “The Reader” or “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”. And probably better than “Milk” or “Frost / Nixon”. And one of them - “Gran Torino” - is the ACTUAL Best Picture of the Year - see it and believe.

Now to the categories:

Best Actor - It’s down to Mickey Rourke or Sean Penn. Penn’s already won and Hollywood loves a great comeback story (paging Robert Downey, Jr.) so I’m going with Rourke.

Best Actress - This is between Streep and Winslet, with Hathaway a potential dark horse on the outside. If there were any justice in the world Streep would win in a landslide, but my gut says Winslet will take it. I don’t see it. I thought both Streep and Hathaway were better.

Best Supporting Actor - There are few sure things in life, but one of them is that Heath Ledger will win Best Supporting Actor. And it’s not just because he’s dead. It really is a stunning performance.

Best Supporting Actress - Cruz and Adams are the ones to watch here. Adams needs to develop some range (watch for her in “Sunshine Cleaners”); Cruz already has it. I’m going with Cruz.

Best Director - Danny Boyle. It’s the year of the Slumdog.

Until next year, here’s hoping you avoid any red carpet gaffes.

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tediousoscars · 11 years

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2006

Predict-o-meter: This year: 4/6; Total: 17/22 (77%)

Welcome to Marty vs. Clint II … the rematch! Are you ready to RUMBLE?!??

It was a difficult year for the movies. While the nominated class is quite strong overall there was a dearth of really stand-out films. And many of the best films made this year were, well, difficult. Oh, there was the occasional ray of (little miss) sunshine, but overall when you look at the top quality films of 2006 there is a lot of rough emotional sledding.

Before we get down to the serious business at hand I have to say a few words about this years’s cinematic phenomenon, “Borat”. When people asked me whether it was good, my response was that it was a cultural phenomenon that transcended such value judgments. It doesn’t matter whether it’s good or bad, you simply have to see it if you want to participate in the zeitgeist. As I’ve reflected on it over the ensuing months, however, I’ve come to realize that while I didn’t fully enjoy “Borat” I did appreciate it. My main problem with the film is that it employs a mode of comedy that I don’t enjoy: Put people in uncomfortable situations and watch them squirm. If this is your cup of tea then you will no doubt find “Borat” hilarious, because it is done frequently and well. But it is clear that Sacha Baron Cohen knows no limits and will stop at nothing for a laugh. Several times during the film - while I may not have been laughing - my mouth was open in total disbelief of what I was seeing. Sort of a thinking man’s “Jackass”, I guess. And you have to appreciate the fact that Cohen has essentially invented a new form of filmmaking. Most of the film uses real people in unscripted scenes, and since these folks don’t know they’re in a theatrical comedy (they think it’s a documentary for Kazakh TV) they can’t have done a lot of re-takes. Cohen is basically working without a net here and he pretty much pulls it off. You’ve got to rent it if for no other reason than to see what all the fuss is about.

So let’s get to it. If there were any justice in the universe and I was allowed to pick then the nominees for Best Picture WOULD be …

An Inconvenient Truth: Jon Stewart parodied the pitch meeting for this movie thusly: “Let’s take the drama of a scientific slide show and combine it with the excitement of Al Gore. I LIKE it!” He then went on to say, “But seriously, how did this movie get made?” It’s true, on the face of it this film sounds like the cinematic equivalent of dental surgery. But it works. And it’s not just Al giving a talk; you see the back-story of how he got interested in this topic in the 60s and some behind-the-scenes footage of his speaking tour delivering the talk in all sorts of places. It’s all actually very interesting. It’s a bit unfortunate that it’s Al Gore doing the talking because that suggests a political component to something that’s really just an examination of scientific data. But it’s doubtful that some anonymous atmospheric scientist could have gotten the movie made and gotten it seen. The information is important and the presentation is entertaining. You should see this movie because it’s good for you, but there is a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down.

Pan’s Labyrinth: This is a fairy tale in the original Brother’s Grimm sense where the wolf eats grandma and everything ends badly. The faun in this case is no polite little Mr. Tumnus, but rather a hulking beast whose voice drips with malice and whose every pronouncement is a veiled threat. But then, the world that the child is escaping in this case is not an elegant old British country manor vaguely threatened by a war off somewhere. No, our little Ofelia is plopped down in a fascist outpost on the front lines of the Spanish Civil War ruled by her stepfather, a Captain whose ruthlessness and penchant for violence can only be described as psychopathic. Faced with an unbearable reality she retreats into a fantasy world that is only marginally better. In fact, the only advantage of the fantasy is that it provides a glimmer of hope; a slight chance of a way out. There is prodigious moviemaking craft here. The story unfolds deliberately yet inexorably. The performances are all strong, and the fantasy sequences are imaginative. But this is not a happy little bedtime story for the kiddies. It is, I believe, the only movie I’ve ever seen that should come with a label that says “WARNING! Contains face sewing”. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

Thank You for Smoking: Meet the Merchants of Death: lobbyists for the firearms, alcohol, and tobacco industries. They meet once a week over dinner to trade war stories and argue over the body counts of their respective products. Nick Naylor - the tobacco lobbyist and star of our show - exudes charisma like most people exhale CO2. He effortlessly takes command of every situation and makes you believe that marketing cigarettes to kindergartners is the only morally acceptable course of action. Enter his slightly awkward and introverted 12-yr-old son Joey, who wants to understand what his Dad does for a living. How does he make his son proud of him without compromising his lack of principles? This is a smart, funny (at one point Nick is kidnapped by antismoking activists who cover his entire body with nicotine patches) little movie with a strong supporting cast (J.K. Simmons, William H. Macy, Rob Lowe, Sam Elliott, Robert Duvall … even Katie “Mrs. Cruise” Holmes manages to not be too annoying) that didn’t get nearly the attention it deserves.

The Lives of Others: Watching this film is like watching a chrysalis slowly transform into a butterfly. Set in 1984 (how appropriate) in East Germany, it starts as a cold, grey husk and then slowly, imperceptibly shows signs of life until at the end it bursts out in a blaze of heartwarming splendor. The setup seems clear-cut: No-nonsense Stasi agent ruthlessly surveils a well-known writer looking for signs of subversion. You think you know where this is going - a nice, tidy morality play about the evils of totalitarianism. But a funny thing happens on the way to the Gulag and the Stasi agent actually ends up being the hero. And it’s all done in a quiet, deliberate and believable fashion. Along the way we are treated to a fascinating glimpse of life behind the Iron Curtain. The characters are all presented as fully realized people trying to make their way through a difficult situation, rather than mindless automata. And while we may complain about the foibles of our politicians and our system, this movie serves as a reminder that we really don’t have a clue about what real corruption is like.

United 93: Oh boy, this is a tough one. The claim has been made that it is too soon for a movie like this. That claim is essentially correct; picture Spielberg trying to make “Schindler’s List” in Germany in 1950. Nevertheless, none of these arguments alters the fact that this is a monumental piece of movie-making and Paul Greengrasss richly deserves his Best Director nomination. He maintains a “fly on the wall” approach throughout and merely observes. Important plot points are established not through dialog but through clever visual cues. The most astounding thing about this movie is that nobody seems to be acting at all; all of the actions and reactions feel completely real, from the mundane chatter of the crew boarding the plane to the frantic goodbye phone calls near the end. This is particularly true of the guys manning the air traffic control centers. As I watched the film I remember thinking, “Where on Earth did they find all these no-name guys who could pull this off so effortlessly and make it feel real?” The answer is surprising: Most of the air traffic controllers play themselves in the film. I strongly suspect that this film will do better on DVD over the next few years than it did in the theaters. Viewing it is an intensely emotional experience that is probably better suited to being curled up on your own couch, rather than sitting in the dark with a bunch of strangers. There is no editorializing or moralizing, just a cold hard presentation of the facts as they occurred. Very powerful stuff, but emotionally brutal.

And the winner SHOULD be …

United 93. I’m sorry, I hate to do this to you but it is a really powerful movie and the only film made this year that will still be relevant in 20 years. Sure, you could say that it shouldn’t have been made for 20 years, but it was. And it’s great. So there it is.

Now back to reality. In the category of Best Picture the nominees actually ARE …

Babel: The facile comparison is to say that “Babel” is “Crash” on a global scale, but one should not succumb to this temptation. While “Crash” reveled in slyly poking racial stereotypes with a sharp stick “Babel” adopts a neo-documentary tone and its tongue never comes close to approaching its cheek. As the title suggests the main topic of Babel is communication, or rather the lack thereof. There are plenty of obvious barriers to communication as French, German, and American tourists argue with their Moroccan guide, a deaf girl struggles to fit into the hearing world, and white suburban American children are immersed in rural Mexican culture by their nanny. But “Babel” also explores subtler barriers on a variety of scales, from the intimate emotional barriers between people who are nominally quite close - husband and wife, father and daughter, mother and son - to the grandiose barriers between national governments that can’t comprehend each other. Like “Crash”, “Babel” employs the device of seemingly disparate stories that become intertwined. In fact, the initial transition from goat herds in the outback of Morocco to a volleyball team made up of deaf teenage girls in Tokyo is a bit jarring. But here, unlike “Crash”, each story is fully crafted and can stand on its own merits; the fact that they are intertwined is merely icing on the cake. Each of the disparate locations (and its attendant culture) feels totally authentic. The direction is air tight, the performances are stunning, and the casting is a tour de force. In addition to Cate and Brad they managed to land a couple of the top male actors from Japan (Koji Yakusho) and Mexico (Gael Garcia Bernal). But it is the young Rinko Kikuchi who nearly steals the show as the deaf teenager struggling to fit in. The sequence featuring her tripping on ecstasy in a disco is masterful moviemaking. Through most of the film Babel seems to be hurtling towards the cliff at full speed as a series small bad decisions snowballs into a budding catastrophe. But we are pulled back from the brink for a (mostly) happy ending, though not a saccharine Hollywood one.

Letters from Iwo Jima: Ah what a piece of work is Clint. In the middle of making his WWII epic he says, “You know, while we’re at it we should make another film about the Japanese side. IN JAPANESE!” The result? A Best Picture nod. Is there anything this guy can’t do? It’s hard to believe he ever worked with an orangutan. Not since “Das Boot” have we seen such a compelling story of the war from the other side. The fact that it was made by an American just makes it all the more astounding. Or does it? Part of the point of “Letters from Iwo Jima” is that the trials and tribulations of the soldier know nothing of nationality. Our protagonist - Saigo - is a little sad-sack baker pressed into military service. He’s not an idealist or a patriot; he’s just a guy trying to get by. The fact that he’s Japanese and the bullets he’s dodging are American is irrelevant. Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of cultural differences on display. I doubt many American commanders tell their troops before battle that they are not allowed to die until they have killed ten enemy soldiers (inspiring!) and it’s a little disturbing to learn that the Japanese actually had a prescribed ritual for blowing oneself up with a hand grenade but the fundamental plight of the grunt was the same on both sides. This is driven home in one of the most powerful scenes when an officer who had spent time in America translates a letter from the mother of a fallen American soldier. The Japanese all recognize the words from letters from their own mothers. Though this film is expertly crafted and superbly acted, once again it is no emotional cakewalk (Okay okay. War is hell. I get it!). But in the end it is well worth it (Saigo lives, by the way).

Little Miss Sunshine: This year’s smart little independent nominee (think “Lost in Translation”, “Sideways”) is “Little Miss Sunshine”. Though the nugget at the heart of this movie is a tad trite (families can drive you crazy but in the end they’re all we’ve got) the execution is flawless. Meet the Hoovers, a family that would require years of therapy to aspire to being dysfunctional. The father is a failed motivational speaker (is there anything sadder?), the uncle is a failed academic fresh out of the hospital after a suicide attempt (Steve Carell showing some range with a perfectly muted performance), the grandfather is a foul-mouthed cantankerous drug-addicted old bastard (played with zeal by Alan Arkin), the brother is a mop-headed emo teen who has taken a vow of silence until he achieves his goal of admission to the Air Force Academy, and the mother is just trying to keep a smile on everyone’s face. They all end up in a VW microbus together determined to get little Olive to a junior beauty pageant on time. They are beset with a series of obstacles that begins with a failed clutch and ends with grandpa’s death of a drug overdose. Upon arrival the rest of the family is somewhat dismayed to discover that the rest of the contestants are not - like Olive - just little girls out for some silly dress-up fun, but a rather a collection of horrifying pint-sized Stepford glamor-bots. Even Olive can’t help but notice that she doesn’t exactly fit in, but she is determined to perform the routine her grandfather choreographed as a tribute to his memory (a routine, it should be said, that would not be out of place in a strip club) and in the end the Hoovers let their collective freak flag fly. It would have been easy for “Little Miss Sunshine” to degenerate into “RV” but everyone involved is much too smart for that. It’s a well-crafted comedy that pushes all the right buttons.

The Departed: Let’s be clear about one thing: Martin Scorsese is dying to win a Best Director Oscar. It is the Moby Dick to his Ahab. So strong is this obsession that it colored - and largely destroyed - his last two outings. He was trying to do grandiose epic period pieces on the theory that these are popular with Oscar voters (which they are). In the process he ended up with a couple of insipid messes (“Gangs of New York”, “The Aviator”) that should not have been nominated and could not have won. But it seems that he has learned his lesson. It’s as if he said, “Screw it. If you’re not going to reward my epics I’m just gonna make a movie that I like.” Genius. With “The Departed” Marty gets back to his roots: gritty streetwise crime drama. And it works spectacularly. Taut and suspenseful - you can’t cut this tension with a knife … better bring a chainsaw - the plot rushes headlong and keeps you constantly off balance. And yet, the film has a consistent inner logic that makes every plot twist seem honest and real. In a Dream Team cast (Jack Nicholson, Matt Damon, Alec Baldwin, Martin Sheen, Leonardo DiCaprio - it’s good to be Marty) it is little Marky Mark who steals the show. His over-the-top Hard-nosed Cop routine is dryly hilarious without devolving into farce. He maintains his earnestness throughout and makes you believe that maybe, just maybe there really is a guy out there somewhere who has decided to be this big an asshole. His performance is almost enough to make me forget about his boy band roots. Almost. Like good Shakespeare, everybody dies. And also like good Shakespeare, they pretty much deserve it.

The Queen: The summer of 1997 was a tumultuous one in Britain. It started with Labour’s Tony Blair sweeping into No. 10 Downing St. in a landslide after 18 years of Conservative rule, and ended with the death of Princess Diana in a car crash in Paris. “The Queen” documents this period from the perspective of (wait for it) the Queen. The insular instincts of the Royal Family are woefully out of tune with the need of the British masses for catharsis. It takes all of Blair’s formidable skills in opinion-poll politics to rescue the Royals (and hence the country) from disaster. The axis about which this film rotates is Helen Mirren’s towering performance as Queen Elizabeth II. If she doesn’t win Best Actress I will eat nothing but bangers and mash for a week. A fascinating behind-the-scenes look at the British upper crust and a prolonged and detailed study of the word “tact”.

And the winner SHOULD be …

Letters from Iwo Jima. There is no question that of the nominees “Little Miss Sunshine” is far and away the most fun to watch (I told you: It was a difficult year). But “Letters from Iwo Jima” is destined to go down as one of the great war movies of all time. Deal with it.

But the winner probably WILL be …

The Departed. I have a feeling it’s Marty’s year. Let’s be clear: “Letters from Iwo Jima” could kick “The Departed’s” ass with one hand tied behind its back. But Marty is due and “The Departed” is good enough that the Academy won’t feel embarrassed about rewarding it (unlike his last two stinkers). What I’d really like to see is a split with Marty taking Director and “Letters” taking Picture, but I don’t think it will happen.

Other predictions:

Best Actress: Helen Mirren is a lock. But any of you who have always considered Penelope Cruz to be a pretty-faced lightweight based on her work in English should rent “Volver” and see her unleashed in her native tongue. It’s a revelation.

Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson - everyone’s favorite loser - comes up a winner here. But if there were any justice it would be Rinko Kikuchi.

Best Actor: Tough race. Peter O’Toole - almost as famously snubbed as Marty - is the sentimental favorite but the smart money is on Forest Whitaker.

Best Supporting Actor: Oh my God. Alan Arkin should be declared a National Treasure for his turn in “Little Miss Sunshine” and Marky Mark should just quit now because he’ll never do anything better than “The Departed”. But as much as the phrase “Academy Award winner Eddie Murphy” turns my stomach, it looks like Eddie’s the man. Curse you Academy!!

Best Foreign Film: This is actually a two-horse race featuring two of my picks: “The Lives of Others” and “Pan’s Labyrinth”. Personally I think “Lives” is a better movie, but “Pan” has the buzz, and at the end of the day Hollywood is all about buzz.

I’m cutting it a little close this year, but this should still go out (just) before the show starts. I’m an inveterate procrastinator, what can I say. That’s it till next year!

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