and this. He has not won Best Director, and I think this may be his year. I also think this may be the film to win Best Picture, if the Golden Globes are any indication. I have not looked too closely at predictions yet, and only know one sure-fire winner, which everyone should also know.
Both Robert Downey Jr. and Cillian Murphy won at the Golden Globes and SAG Awards, and also seem like fair picks to win Oscars. Matt Damon arguably deserved a nomination more than Downey Jr., and probably didn't get it because his character is "less interesting," even though he injected the film with sorely-needed comic relief.
Overall, I liked this movie. I saw it in IMAX 70 MM, which was cool, and the cinematography is beautiful. It's delicately made. One might say it is designed to win Oscars. I respect it as a film, and think it poses important questions, but left me feeling a bit cold, emotionally. The primary drama of the film is whether Oppenheimer's security clearance will be renewed, and it is played out over a lengthy series of administrative hearings. This is the type of thing I usually like--the audacity of a "blockbuster" about bureaucracy--but also makes me feel that it is prestige for the sake of prestige (and The Prestige is one of Nolan's many films that did not get the respect it deserved at the time).
17 years ago, that film was only nominated for Art Direction and Cinematography. A year later, Nolan followed it up with The Dark Knight, arguably the greatest blockbuster superhero action movie there has been, which won for Sound Editing and Supporting Actor. He followed that up with Inception, which demands multiple viewings (more recently Tenet required the same, though I think fewer wanted to try). We don't need to go through his whole filmography; suffice to say, he is clearly one of the greatest "mainstream" auteurs of our time, and is due for recognition. This is not my favorite film of his (I liked 3 or 4 of them better), but it is definitely the most "Oscar worthy," in a similar vein to Dunkirk--because it is historically accurate. This is a valuable thing when our world is prone to inaccuracies and questions surrounding stories told by the victors. Oppenheimer does bridge this gap nicely, showing the heart of the conflict inside the person, and how the world wants to see him, or not see him as his feelings evolve. I probably need to see it a second time. It didn't put me to sleep but my viewing companion did doze off in the theater.
On rewatch, I recalled my friend's critique after the theater viewing: "I think I need to watch it with closed captioning." A word, briefly, about closed captioning. I was ashamed when I began regularly turning them on for most things I watched. I soon realized, perhaps in 2018 or 2019, that this practice had been adopted by the masses. Perhaps this is to deal with the influence of "mumblecore" films, but I doubt it (Joe Swanberg isn't Quentin Tarantino, or even Kevin Smith); we just miss less. And this film is populated by at least a dozen fairly nondescript white, male actors, referred to just by their last names, and it can be difficult to keep everyone straight. So I do think this film is aided by closed captioning, but that didn't make me like it much more.
I do think I am wrong about it being "historically accurate," just from the opening scene with the apple, which I had forgotten, along with another delusive move or two. I also forgot about my favorite "cameo" in it, and perhaps the way that character is barely in the movie at all and then has a major dramatic moment near the end. It surprised and befuddled me. I appreciated that weirdness, and I actually really liked how it "flashed forward," to show what happened after these hearings, later in his life. The dramatic bombast of it all is powerful, and befits the importance of the man itself--it is a big, loud movie, and I won't be surprised at all if it wins.
Apart from that idiosyncrasy, my issue is that this movie got far more love than The Lego Movie, and it is reductive of it. It will probably win Best Song, and that was The Lego Movie's only nomination. Granted, visually, this film is stunning, even if it is "plastic." They are very different movies but they definitely have many things in common, one of which is Will Ferrell playing the bad guy, who is given more room to vamp here. It has a feminist message whereas Lego was just more focused on child-like glee. This also has its share of child-like glee, along with a bit of a darker edge.
I have complicated feelings. Margot Robbie was robbed of a nomination. Ryan Gosling and America Ferrara deserved theirs. The plot of the film is also very similar to The Lego Movie. What's unique is that it is mainstream, fully endorsed by Mattel, and subversive. Perhaps one of the best things it did was open up conversations on gender politics, while still being a fantasy, and fun. Ultimately, it was recognized because it had its cultural moment, shared with Oppenheimer, that fully returned the masses to theaters. It was important in that respect, and I have to believe it was a better experience with a theater audience than Oppenheimer (I watched this at home on Max). I need to see it again probably, but basically yeah, I thought it was about as good as The Lego Movie--only a little better in the way the story was brought to life.
I liked parts of it. The interplay between Cooper and Carey Mulligan is the best thing about the movie. The two of them have a handful of scenes in it that are as good as anything else that came out this year, and would be borderline iconic if not crushed beneath the weight of the rest of the film, which is a biopic that attempts to cover a rather long period of time. Credit Cooper for taking on difficult material, and portraying the conflicted bisexuality of his character (even if audiences may feel more sympathy for Mulligan). Of course, the cultural milieu plays a role in that dynamic, and the film's historical accuracy approaches that of Oppenheimer. It still feels like a mash-up of Tar and Star, and not as good as either.
It is worth watching, however, for the scenes between Mulligan and Cooper. It gains speed as it moves along, as Cooper dials up the absurdity of his performance, which is iconic in its own right. I don't expect it to win anything, and its place here is a result of the expanded Oscar ballot. It is worthy of recognition, but so is The Iron Claw (Zac Efron's performance in that was criminally underrated).
In terms of what "deserves to win," it seems it comes down to Oppenheimer and Killers of the Flower Moon. Both are over 3 hours long. I am not sure how others felt, but even though this one is about 30 minutes longer, it felt shorter to me. I didn't fall asleep during either. It's perhaps worth noting that I watched this on Apple TV+ and started it with my dad at 11 PM.
He told me he had tried to watch it before, and he didn't like it. He said it made him uncomfortable to watch. He made it about 45 minutes deep. This time, he lasted until 1 AM. I stayed up until 2:30 AM to finish it. He left right before the most awful part of the movie happens. This is a really awful movie in terms of morality, and it continues to be dialed up until it reaches that epitome. After, it shifts into its second half, which must be where the controversial "intermissions" had been inserted by theater owners, when Jesse Plemons shows up to investigate the murders. It loses a tiny bit of steam in the second half, and there are bizarre elements that ultimately coalesce in a memorable epilogue that underscores the most heartbreaking element at the center of the film. Its last words teared me up.
Is it more important than Oppenheimer? Probably. The movie takes place 100 years ago. Most of the awful atrocities committed against Native Americans occurred in the 1600's-1800's, but this film shows that really nothing changed in the 1900's, and thereby questions how much has actually changed in the 2000's. Everyone in America is living on Native land and we often forget that. Near the end of the film, Robert DeNiro delivers a short monologue that encapsulates every argument that could be made for colonialism, and reveals the film to be a perfect allegory of the history of the plight of the indigenous.
It's another significant accomplishment by Martin Scorsese, and a testament to his rightful place in the all-time canon of cinema. We can only hope that in 25 years, Christopher Nolan will remain at the top of his game and do the best work of his career, because it feels that way for Scorsese.
The Holdovers
On Friday, February 23rd, I subscribed to Peacock for a month and watched The Holdovers (enveloping it with a re-watch of Oppenheimer, see above for update). The movie tricked me, for a minute. I didn't realize it took place in December 1970. At first, I thought it was a flashback, where Paul Giamatti was a teacher in present day, and a student in 1970. But then he would be playing about 15-20 years older than he is.
In more ways than one, this movie is a throwback. It might remind a viewer of some of Hal Ashby's work. It is an R-rated film, but it should be PG-13, because it ultimately is a family film. One of the stills I almost chose was connected to an article titled "the 65 best Christmas movies of all time," and so this may be considered an instant classic, and an obvious choice for future television programming around the holidays.
I was struck by how "uncynical" it was. I liked it fine, but similar to Maestro, and our next item, feel that its place here is a result of the expanded ballot. I think I have to put it over Maestro because it is a finely-paced, complete film. It does not attempt to make any major message, unlike some of the other nominees. It is a small, quiet, heartfelt film, filled with great compassion for its characters, and about as gentle as one can imagine.
Some people think the Best Actor category comes down to Cillian Murphy and Paul Giamatti (the others are Bradley Cooper, Jeffrey Wright, and Colman Domingo from Rustin, which I should also see). It is a tough call who will win. Giamatti, I think, may win for "career achievement," because while Cillian Murphy has had his own lengthy career at this point, Giamatti is a feted actor that was robbed of a nomination for his previous collaboration with Alexander Payne, Sideways. (It is difficult to say whether Giamatti will beat Murphy, and it is difficult to say whether Da'Vine Joy Randolph will beat America Ferrara, but I believe this film has a slight edge in the Best Supporting Actress category; it may well win for both, but should be recognized for at least one. The SAG Awards seem to indicate it will be Randolph and not Giamatti.)
In a lot of ways, The Holdovers is a redux of Sideways, a buddy comedy with Giamatti, except in this case he is playing more of a curmudgeon than a snob. And it's not about wine culture, but boarding school culture. Giamatti himself went to Choate, and I thought I might "see myself" in this, but I didn't really (the film was shot at Groton, NMH, Deerfield, and two other prep schools, though not LC, sadly). This was not the great boarding school film that is yet to be made (the way The Catcher in the Rye is the great boarding school novel). It is, however, a moving meditation on the nature of family and togetherness, and unmistakably touching in how it teases out the vulnerabilities of its characters. I teared up at least once or twice. Yet even with this air of melancholy, it is heartwarming, and the "lightest" nominee after Barbie. It would be difficult to hate this film, and I liked it, but as noted, I believe this is late recognition for Sideways, because nearly 20 years later, that film is rightly considered a modern classic.
American Fiction
On Sunday, February 25th, I went to the local movie theater and saw American Fiction. I have to rate it similarly to The Holdovers, but it is a very different type of film. The first comparison I could draw is to Sorry to Bother You. Both are satires about similar issues, but obviously, that one "jumps the shark," and this one stays within the realm of the plausible.
It's surprising that this is adapted from
Erasure, a book published in 2001. (I was also drawn to consider
The Sellout in the course of watching this, and how that book is not comparable to the two primary "texts" this film depicts.) The film is unmistakably important for our times, because it poses questions about identity and representation, which have been hot-button issues for years on end, and demand deeper inquiry. They will need to pick a "clip" for the Oscars from Jeffrey Wright's performance, and I hope they pick the brief scene he has with Issa Rae, where he confronts her and calls her out on what he sees her work as doing. That scene, like certain scenes between Cooper and Mulligan in
Maestro, is borderline iconic. It's beautifully written and acted. And the way such issues are percolating in our culture and driving divisiveness, this film should likely inspire thoughtful debate and conversation.
It's unfortunate that it took more than 20 years for this book to be adapted, and that I haven't read it. (I haven't read Killers of the Flower Moon, either, but the movie is making more people read the book, and that is the side-perk of giving such films recognition.) At a certain point, Wright says that he doesn't even really believe in race, and while that may have been more common in 2001, it feels quaint today, with more performative virtue-signaling in social media, and the rejection of teaching Critical Race Theory in certain sectors of this country. I was going to say Sterling K. Brown deserved a nomination for supporting actor, and I see that he got it. Tracee Ellis Ross is also very good in her abbreviated role.
This is a thorny film, but that is only half the story. At the end of the day, like The Holdovers, it is a moving meditation on family, showing how Wright and Brown navigate the uncertain territory of middle age, caring for their mother when she needs them most, while she is unable to give them the validation and love that they crave. It makes a bigger "statement" than The Holdovers, but it is also heartwarming in unexpected ways.
That being said, for further reading and an alternative take that goes much deeper,
see this, which made me feel sort of terrible for thinking the movie was pretty good. Apparently, the book is braver, and better.
Past Lives
On March 1, 2024, I watched
Past Lives on Paramount+. To this point, it is the most narrowly focused of the nominees, and somewhat similar to
The Holdovers, isn't deeply invested in any message, other than the metaphysical trope of
in-jun and 8,000 lifetimes. I could be cynical, and point to the ten nominees, and the previously controversial
standards for eligibility, but the film is worthy of recognition. (
Drive My Car was better than
Parasite and
Everything Everywhere All at Once and I implore you to watch it after the Oscars if you haven't.)
Past Lives overtakes
The Holdovers as the "smallest" and "gentlest" nominee. It is rated PG-13, and I do not understand why it is not PG except for the filmmakers to signal this is not a movie for kids. There is hardly any cursing in it, no graphic material, no violence, and the conflict it depicts is inherently veiled. "Fiction is about trouble," some writing instructors may intone, and the trouble here, which has an element of
EEAO about it, is that our lives have too many possibilities, and sometimes we have to leave behind parts of it for reasons beyond our control. The leaving may all well be good and necessary, and as one character says near the beginning, "When you leave something behind, you gain something, too." And maybe what we gain is a newfound freedom to start again and try to shape our lives into a way we wish them to be. And maybe once we have done that--even if we are happy--we may have imagined more perfect futures before we have understood the realities of adulthood.
I don't want to say too much about the plot of the film, but it is about as simple of a plot as you can have in a movie. What struck me about it is its spareness. There is no concrete "subplot," not even a tangential conflict over whether or not the married couple wants to have kids. It is just squarely focused on this single issue, the notion of how things might have gone differently if say, we didn't need to leave, or if we had brushed against a certain person in the subway (or perhaps at a party in a dorm, or in History class, or at a music festival, the laundromat, the grocery store, etc.). The plot in one line: childhood sweethearts reconnect 12 years later over Facebook/Skype, and 12 years later again in NYC.
In the way
The Holdovers is a great holiday film, this is a great NYC film, vaguely reminding me of one of the earlier
random film reviews on this blog, and more obviously,
Annie Hall and
When Harry Met Sally. And it is a very romantic, bittersweet film which makes me feel more teary-eyed in retrospect than it did in the moment. At first blush I would have rated it as lesser than the other films seen to this point, but the mood it inhabits is suffused with such deep humanity that practically no one could
not identify with some element in it. There is a good chance it will make you cry, and ponder the trajectory of your life, and perhaps it may inspire an upheaval, whether foolishly or practically. I won't spoil which direction the film goes. This is just the most "human" and "basic" story told by any of the nominees, that transcends race, nationality, language and tangibility in general--we just know one main character is a writer, and the other main character is an engineer. To paraphrase Flannery O'Connor: every writer has material, whether or not they believe it, for they have gone through childhood. And so too, after moving into adulthood--when we have continued to pursue certain childhood dreams, and made good on them, we wonder if our feelings from our most innocent times end up feeling the most intense and genuine. Maybe I am trying too hard to wax poetic to give closure to this capsule assessment, but if you've seen the movie, you may understand why.
*
Last year, there was some brief mention of budget and box office, and just for the sake of fun and comparison, let us consider the nominees this year.
Oppenheimer
Budget: $100,000,000
Box Office: $953,800,000
Barbie
Budget: $145,000,000
Box Office: $1,446,000,000
Maestro
Budget: $80,000,000
Box Office: $820,567
Killers of the Flower Moon
Budget: $200,000,000
Box Office: $156,000,000
The Holdovers
Budget: $200,000 (!)
Box Office: $41,400,000
American Fiction
Budget: $16,000,000 (reported estimates differ)
Box Office: $21,900,000
Past Lives
Budget: $12,000,000
Box Office: $26,600,000
Anatomy of a Fall
Budget: $6,600,000
Box Office: $29,600,000
Poor Things
Budget: $35,000,000
Box Office: $101,900,000
The Zone of Interest
Budget: $15,000,000
Box Office: $16,400,000
I'm not sure why any of this matters. Perhaps I want to ask, has a box office bomb ever won Best Picture? It must have happened.
In any case, Maestro is a massive failure, but those numbers don't tell the whole story because it was most definitely the most widely-streamed of the nominees, in accordance with its rollout.
Why did Killers of the Flower Moon have such a massive budget? It's very long, but how did it cost twice as much as Oppenheimer, which is also very long? Should we consider the "efficiency" of the film if we are really to call it "the best?" We may never know the former, and we can debate the latter, but regardless, to this point, I still think Killers is the best.
*
Poor Things
On the morning of March 4, 2024, sometime between 9 and 10 AM, I twisted a nerve in my back and threw it out; at 7:40 PM, I arrived 10 minutes after the showtime for Poor Things. This theater doesn't show 10 minutes of previews, but I don't think I missed more than a few of the opening minutes to the film. Suffice to say, I will watch again at some point.
My enjoyment of the film was hampered by my condition, which made laughing painful. I did not laugh hard because I knew it would trigger a spasm. It would be accurate to say I laughed until it hurt.
Even so, Poor Things is not a hard comedy, and while humor is persistent throughout, Mark Ruffalo most often brought the pain. The film is nominated in 11 different categories, including Emma Stone for Best Actress and Ruffalo for Supporting Actor.
Emma Stone will not win, unfortunately. She did win the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Comedy, but that category in the Oscars is a fait accompli. She was also nominated for a Golden Globe for her performance in The Curse, which she did not win but also proves, 2023 is the year that she ascended into nearly the highest echelon in Hollywood. (Many more people will see Poor Things than The Curse, but the latter is even more bizarre than the former, and both are excellent and worth seeing.) She has already won Best Actress for La La Land, and I do not think this loss will bother her. Like Michelle Williams and Cate Blanchett last year, she deserves to win for this, but there is only one statue to give, and ties are all but impossible.
Ruffalo is not likely to win, either, but his performance stands apart from his career to this point. While he has always been a respected actor, and this is his 4th nomination for a supporting role, it is arguably the best work he has done. It is a comedic performance, and while playing Bruce Banner/The Hulk brought (brings?) its fair share of humor, this is far more subtle. I don't even know who he is supposed to be. I thought he was a magician or something.
I digress. Poor Things is a great film. I have seen a few of Yorgos Lanthimos's films in the past, to varying degrees of confusion and boredom, and think this is the best he has done (I liked The Lobster a lot, but this is unmistakably more epic). I missed the opening minutes, but in the way of plot, this is a take on Frankenstein. The production design is noteworthy, and all of the technical elements are well-executed, but the screenplay and the acting elevate it to another level. The film may cause you to question how your experience of the world has been shaped by your parents, and society, and even "what it means to be human," in the same way that Shelley's Frankenstein was more philosophical inquiry than horror story. It is also oddly similar to Barbie. It is "fun"--but it is also provocative, and "pregnant with meaning."
Anatomy of a Fall (Anatomie d'une chute)
On March 5, 2024, I began Part 1 of the Sandra Huller double-feature, renting
Anatomy of a Fall on Amazon Prime, which will complete this project. Huller is nominated for Best Actress for this
, and also plays a lead role in
The Zone of Interest. She also played the lead role in the film I considered
the best of the previous decade. Perhaps not unlike Emma Stone, Huller "ascended" in 2023. (I will have to watch
Sybil in the coming weeks, which is her previous collaboration with filmmakers Justine Triet and Arthur Harari, before this.)
Anatomy of a Fall is basically a courtroom drama-thriller with some elevating elements. Huller is a German actress, and she plays a German writer (also named Sandra) that lives in France and prefers speaking English. It is not a spoiler to say she is eventually put on trial. It happens rather quickly, and the way the film moves through these various preliminary scenes rapidly, telegraphing what new developments have just come to pass, is one of the highlights. The opening itself ensures that you will never think of the 50 Cent song "P.I.M.P." the same, ever again.
While making the film, Huller repeatedly asked whether or not her character was guilty, and the director refused to tell her. That ambiguity drives the film and imbues her performance with unsettling depth. It was also interesting as a former law student to see the differences in French trial procedure.
Perhaps the greatest strength of this film is how much remains unknown. We cannot truly know what is in another's heart, we only know what is in our own. One could watch the movie with two completely different interpretations, and Huller's performance holds true in either case. It would be interesting to know if she had her own personal belief about the guilt of the character, but I doubt she would publicly pronounce it. So I guess that's what make this a little different from usual courtroom drama-thrillers, because most of the time, the audience knows the truth, and here, we are just as good as a jury. (While I do want to avoid spoilers, I would be curious to talk to someone that saw the ending, because I am wondering if my own thoughts are shared.)
The Zone of Interest
On March 7, I completed this project and Part II of the Sandra Huller double-feature, and I needed to buy
The Zone of Interest on Amazon. So I can watch it again whenever, but I am not sure if I would unless a friend requested to see it. It's a very strange film and probably the most "artsy" of the nominees. Jonathan Glazer is an interesting filmmaker. When I was growing up and thinking about being a film director, he had recently come out with
Sexy Beast after a notable career directing music videos.
Sexy Beast is great and hilarious and totally different from this. He may have made other films, but after that, he was most notable for
Under the Skin, which is the weirdest of all, but which more than a few people considered one of the best movies of the previous decade. It employed a similar color palette to a few discrete scenes in
The Zone of Interest, one of which is captured in the still above.
It's about a German family--a Nazi family, but a family nonetheless--and the way they manage a happy domesticity in a beautiful home neighboring the front gates of Auschwitz. Many people comment that there are no images of the Holocaust, but that's not exactly true. Because a great deal of the material juxtaposes the cruel inhumanity of the father in his work as a Nazi officer with the gentle devotion he shows to his family (despite one odd scene which I think calls that into question).
Glazer is a "slow" filmmaker, seemingly making one movie per decade (though did do the fairly mainstream Birth in 2004, and a short film, The Fall, in 2019) and may now be comparable to the often-great Terrence Malick. This movie is similarly slow and meditative, and extremely uncomfortable at times, and appalling. Huller brings humanity to her character, even after she jokes with a friend (or was it her mother?) that someone refers to her as the "Queen of Auschwitz." She fights for her family and there is some semblance of a happy ending, which obviously is conflicting and not really satisfying. This is intercut with a flash-forward near the end that lends a greater weight and gravity to the film, underscoring the horror of reality as it once was.
In a way, this is a "token" nomination, in the way that
All Quiet on the Western Front was last year, and
1917 and
Dunkirk were before: the war film nominee. There is not always a Holocaust film nominee, but they are fairly frequent--off the top of my head, obviously,
Schindler's List, and also
Life is Beautiful,
The Pianist, Jojo Rabbit--and there are
many more, and I forgot
Inglorious Basterds. All of these films are powerful in different ways, and sadly, still relevant and necessary ("genocide" continues, and we continue to debate what constitutes it). There is no film adaptation of
The Banality of Evil (though I did just find out, there is a documentary, titled
Hannah Arendt) and while that would be undoubtedly rake in Oscar nominations, for now there is just this, which portrays a different variant of banality. This is not a pleasurable watch, or comfort viewing, probably for anyone, except perhaps for the deplorables justifying neo-Nazism, who might get some sick enjoyment out of it. For everyone else, it's a lesson that bears repeating, and might make the audience search themselves, and think about what they would do if they lived in Germany in the 1940's, whether we might be an "innocent bystander" or resist. It is much easier to resist when the real threat of persecution, imprisonment, exile or execution is a not an issue.
*
So then, that wraps up our coverage of the Best Picture nominees. As for predictions:
Oppenheimer for Best Picture (Killers of the Flower Moon deserves it though)
Christopher Nolan for Best Director
Cillian Murphy for Best Actor
Lily Gladstone for Best Actress
Robert Downey, Jr. for Best Supporting Actor
Da'Vine Joy Randolph for Best Supporting Actress
I can't say much else about the rest of the nominations, and if you are doing an Oscar Ballot competition like my family does every year, those other nominations mark the winner. So I'm sorry I can't be very useful to you, but I don't want to steer you wrong. I am reasonably sure that the above six categories will go this way, though there is always the potential for a surprise.
Fin.