Sunday, October 13, 2024
Sunday, August 18, 2024
Aisha
-Nigerian (Yoruba) proverb
Aisha is often in a difficult place. She is a young refugee from Nigeria trying to persevere through the tedious refugee process of the Republic of Ireland. Ireland is an interesting country when it comes to migration. For the first time since 1851 during the Great Famine, the population of Ireland exceeded five million people, largely because of migration. Ireland has also had an enormous increase in refugees (a 749-percent increase from 2021 to 2022, the year the film Aisha was released in Ireland). Aisha is one of 81,256 refugees in Ireland in 2022. The system has come under further strain because a post-Brexit Britain (at least under the previous government) endorsed policies that directed refugees from Africa back into the EU through Ireland.
These facts might help one appreciate just how much of an uphill battle she has in front of her. The film, directed by Frank Berry, is not concerned with statistics but the human condition, in which characters have little interest in such statistics but instead are simply trying to survive. Aisha, played by Letitia Wright, is one such character. She is seeking refugee status in Ireland while her mother is back home hiding in Nigeria. The film, which is also written by Berry, is patient with how much of Aisha's story is told and even the aftermath of certain moments. This is not to say the pacing is laborious; its pacing is mostly appropriate. One thing, though, is irrefutable, and that is that she is dealt one rotten hand after another in her struggles.
Viewers. might expect a certain type of film with certain tropes and certain character arches that can be predicted. They are unlikely to find it here. In weaker hands, this is the kind of film where the difficulties Aisha faces would be gratuitously displayed with great theatricality. Instead, in the film she witnesses more micro forms of racism in her everyday interactions with locals. At one point, for example, she is told by a customer she's tending to that her English is good. (English is the national language of Nigerian.) She's told she's lucky; she doesn't respond. True, there are some examples in the movie of more in-your-face varieties of discrimination and racism, especially from the immigration officers. One staff member who does display kindness towards her is named Conor (Josh O'Connor), the night guard at the center. Conor is a recovering drug addict and former prisoner who is now living with his mom. One might get the impression that he is a guilt-ridden and possibly sleep-deprived individual through some of the subtle choices O'Conor makes as an actor. For what it's worth, O'Conor, a Brit who was brought up in Gloucestershire, apparently does an impeccable Irish accent here, with one viewer on Reddit claiming he couldn't believe O'Conor wasn't Irish.
Wright's performance in Aisha is her best yet. Known internationally mainly for role as Shuri in the Black Panther movies, she successfully utilizes the rich opportunity as the title character to show what she can do. There's a lot of restraint in her acting; she is playing a character who is frustrated, anxious, depressed, helpless, guarded, disappointed, and not at all in control of her situations. Wright is challenged with exemplifying all of this in a measured, realistic way, as the film is not one to indulge in hyperbole, all the while the camera spends considerable time focused on her face. Wright and O'Conor are both commendable in the film, but Berry also deserves credit for including real voices of actual refugees here to share their stories. Their descriptions of the pain of deportation, memories from their homeland, and other critical details lend further legitimacy to the undertaking of those involved in Aisha.
The friendship between Aisha and Connor (predictably) evolves into a flirtatious and romantic one. Conor even calls in sick to be with Aisha once she is moved to a different center farther away. The only time Aisha appears happy in the film is when she is with Conor. There's an obvious crush between them. They are moments of joy that give Aisha and the audience a break from the grim reality of her struggles to remain legally in Ireland.
Aisha is a recommendable film mainly because of what Berry, Wright, and O'Conor demonstrate in their work. Ideally, the three of them will continue to excel with future projects as realistic and honest as Aisha.
Tuesday, April 9, 2024
Nobody Knows
Nobody Knows, a 2004 drama written, directed, produced, and edited by Hirokazu Kore-eda, is not. This is a film that pivots away from an all's-well-that-ends-well conclusion of many famous Japanese motion pictures in favor of the bitter reality of the human condition. How could it not? The film is, very regrettably, inspired by a true story known as the Sugamo child abandonment case. I also wish I could say that child abandonment is incredibly rare, but it is obviously not. There are no monsters here, but real-life consequences when normal people do discreet yet cruel things. In the first scene of this film, the young boy who serves as the main character has longish hair and a tattered shirt; this will serve as a reminder throughout much of the film's two hours and twenty minutes that these children are in for the long haul of waiting for a provider who will never show up.
In the film, Yuya Yagira plays the young boy named Akira. At the beginning of the story, Akira and his mother, Keiko (You), seem to be a normal mother-and-son pair, delighting their landlord and landlady with a gift upon their first meeting. The landlord mentions it's good that Akira is in middle school, because a lot of the other tenants complain about too many noisy young children running around the building. No problem, according to Keiko. Well, there is a problem: three other children. Two have been hidden in their luggage that soon arrives via delivery. Their names are Shigeru (Hiei Kimura), the youngest boy, and Yuki (Momoko Shimizu), the youngest girl, who is only five. Akira later goes out to pick up his other younger sister, Kyōko (Ayu Kitaura), the second oldest in the family, at the train station. Between the two of them, they handle most of the responsibilities when their mother is away. There is no father figure in the family; all of the four children have different fathers.
Why did they move? Apparently, Shigeru was too boisterous, and it's implied that they were evicted or their lease wasn't renewed. Hence, hiding two children in pieces of luggage and sending a third by herself on the train to catch up is their solution. Are Japanese children too noisy, and are Japanese adults too intolerant towards them? I lived in Japan for thirteen months, and I wouldn't say Japanese children are any more or less energetic than their counterparts in other nations. I also can't speak as to whether or not Japanese people detest loud children, but I do know that there is a website detailing the noise of children in Japanese neighborhoods, warning others of children who play too noisily or scream, and that four children is not normal in Japan, with the country recently seeing a record low birthrate of 1.26 children per family, continuing a downward trend. In recent years, the Japanese government has tried to remedy this by investing $25 billion dollars to support families who may want children. But this bill was passed late last year—surely there was less of a concern back in 2004, the year of the film's release. Unlikely, because the total fertility rate in the country then was 1.29, only slightly higher than what it currently is. What about in 1988, the year in which the terrible incident that inspired this film take place? 1.66.
It would be important to note here that Kore-eda does not make films that judge others. As he did in later films like After the Storm, the Palm d'Or-winning Shoplifters, and last year's Monster, his stories are of ordinary people caught up not necessarily in unordinary situations but those that one wishes simply did not exist. It might be impossible not to be angry at a person like Keiko, who not only later abandons her four children but in the early part of the film doesn't seem to be in much of a rush to actually get her two youngest ones out of the luggage that they themselves describe as "super hot." Not much information is explicitly revealed about her. Instead, the dialogue, how the children react around her, and You's performance fill in the gaps.
You seems to inflect an exaggerated, childish tone and pitch to her character's voice, suggesting that Keiko was never going to be mature enough to take care of four children. The children characters, though, often are tolerant towards her, perhaps because she rarely scolds them or makes them eat vegetables (or even go to school), with only two instances of them losing patience with her: when Kyōko whispers to Akira that she reeks of alcohol and when Akira finally confronts her for being selfish and not looking after them or letting them go to school. Thus, they all have to grow up very quickly. Akira, in particular, becomes the father figure, budgeting on the spot while shopping and cooking curry for the three younger ones while teaching himself math at night. One morning, though, there is a note that their mother has gone away for a while. Now, the growth of his parenting skills really needs to accelerate.
The four actors portraying the children (as well as Hanae Kan as a young school girl who frequently skips class to hang out with them) all give remarkably naturalistic performances in a way that film companies, casting directors, and directors should take note. One would be very hard-pressed to find a director who can work as well with children as Kore-eda does. Using discreetly placed cameras and providing minimal specific directions, he was able to capture the four of them naturally going about their business as any young child would. This is especially evident in the performances of Kimura and Shimizu. Yagira's performance is especially praise-worthy. For his role in the film, he became the youngest winner of the Best Actor award at the Cannes Film Festival in the festival's history. He was unable to attend, however—he was back home studying for exams.
If there is to be a message in the film, it may be a condemnation towards the conditions that resulted in such a tragedy, namely of adults' making. It's not simply the mother figure who abdicated her responsibilities, but a whole host of others who may be at fault: a child welfare system that separates siblings, a government that can't or won't help families who are financially struggling, absentee fathers, and well-meaning adults who simply look the other way. It's enough to depress the viewer, especially if they've seen the three aforementioned films from Japan, ones that celebrate the nation's abundance of color, spirit, and even superior toilets. In Nobody Knows, Kor-eda is not interested in such fairytales; it's as if his film screams in the opposite direction that things are not as perfect as they seem. But as Roger Ebert once said, no good movie is depressing; all bad movies are depressing. Nobody Knows is certainly worth a watch on its twenty anniversary, especially for its extraordinary acting.
Thursday, March 28, 2024
The Man With the Golden Arm
In one of his most famous performances, Sinatra plays Frankie Machine, an aspiring musician and ex-convict who "kicked" a nasty drug addiction to heroin. Now, he has arms of pure gold and dreams of a second chance. "Everything's gonna be all right," he says. In the beginning of the film, he walks into a bar where he meets his old pal Sparrow (Arnold Strang), a conman and precursor to Rizzo Ratzo in Midnight Cowboy. Sparrow is a comic relief character (though not a particularly funny one). Frankie then goes home, where a sign that says "WELLCOME HOME, FRANKIE" awaits him. Presumably, this was written by his wife, Sophia (or "Zosh," as he calls her), played by Eleanor Parker, the "woman of a thousand faces." Zosh often uses a whistle to calm herself down and recalibrate, and she requires a wheelchair. There does not appear to be much love in their relationship, especially because Frankie seems to be falling for an old fling played by Kim Novak.
Despite Frankie's desire to start over and start clean, other acquaintances of his have more menacing plans for him. Schwiefka (Robert Strauss), with a thick mustache and a cigar he frequently chews, attempts to recruit him again to deal for his illegal card game, while the dapper yet sinister Louie (Darren McGavin) tries to seduce Frankie into using again. "Seduce" is an appropriate term, for there are obvious homoerotic moments between Frankie and Louie, as the latter consistently preys on the former. (Apparently, the homoeroticism between the two exists in the novel as well.) Between Schwiefka's insistence that Frankie is the best dealer in town, Louie's insistence that Frankie needs the drugs again, and Zosh's insistence that he really isn't a good enough drummer to get a job, Frankie's chances for success appear slim.
The Man with the Golden Arm is not nearly as overly melodramatic as the Best Picture-winning The Lost Weekend from about a decade. before, in which the main character's alcoholism resulted in hallucinations of bats. Frankie's situation is desperate, and. yet Preminger, Sinatra, Bernstein, and the other members of the team present it to the audience in much more powerful yet subtle ways than The Lost Weekend did. This is often done through the camera's focus on Frankie's eyes, an act that reveals his continued drug use to the other characters and the hopelessness he finds himself in. There are no imaginary bats here.
Part of what makes this successful is Bernstein's music. Given its setting in Chicago, it makes perfect sense to use a jazz theme. But the way he uses crescendos and an urgent brass to punctuate the drama will send chills down your spine. Bernstein, who was 33 years old at the time, was nominated for Best Original Score. Set designers Joseph C. Wright and Darrell Silvera (who were also nominated) are also worthy of the praise they received. The 1950s were a decade that featured lots of favorable economic conditions to many Americans; the economy grew by almost 40 percent, and unemployment was lower than 5 percent. Yet everything appears dilapidated and dystopic in this film thanks in large part to the set design.
The Man with the Golden Arm is a remarkably patient film, taking its time in providing the viewers information about these characters and details related to the plot. It is thirty minutes into the film before we get some information on why everything is as it appears. However, that is also the weakest aspect of this film, as its pace becomings taxing, frequently shifting from intensity to apathy. When the film "tells us" what Frankie is experiencing instead of showing us, the experience is also damaged. We already know that Frankie's addiction is destroying him; we don't need him to awkwardly tell Zosh that there's an allegorical monkey on his back. Some trimming really could have helped the film. Much of the screenplay, written for the screen by Walter Newman, Lewis Meltzer, and an uncredited Ben Hecht, works, but in typical 1950s fashion, much of the original source material (particularly the climactic scene) was diluted to be more palatable for audiences of the conservative era. This also hurts the film, though the numerous surprises toward the end help it recover, especially as we get to see Parker and McGavin deliver their best moments. Parker and McGavin are best known today for their roles in family-friend movies of the past: Parker as Baroness Elsa von Schraeder in The Sound of Music and McGavin as the father in A Christmas Story. You won't recognize either of them in The Man with the Golden Arm; that's how fantastic their acting is.
Sinatra's acting, though, shines the most. Sinatra was nominated for Best Actor for his work here. (He lost to Marty star Ernest Borgnine, who played the rival of Sinatra's character in From Here to Eternity two years before, the movie that earned Sinatra his Oscar.) His acting sometimes dives into "most acting," ann annoying habit many actors play with when they really want you to know just how much effort they're putting into it. But his showing is superior to his telling, like whenever he plays the drums of is desperate for drugs. This is most obvious in Frankie's audition scene, a tense, painful moment in which he struggles to perform while going through withdrawal after dealing cards for nearly two days. It is a very sympathetic performance during a time in which I imagine the public was less sympathetic to such characters. Indeed, this was a somewhat controversial film. Preminger and United Artists decided to release the film without a Code approval despite its topic. When the Production Code Administration denied the film a Code approval and the Motion Picture Association of America upheld the decision, UA quit the MPAA. Despite this, large theater chains agreed to show the film, pacing the way for later films to tackle other taboo subjects. (After receiving a Production Code seal in 1961, the film was allowed to be broadcast on television.)
The Man with the Golden Arm may suffer form an unjustified length and pace, but its music, themes, bravery, set design, and acting make it a recommendable film.
This article was originally published in Public Domain Film Review on August 3, 2020.
Saturday, March 9, 2024
All 53 of the 2024 Oscar-nominated Films Ranked
Ben Zauzmer is a baseball statistician and assistant general manager of the New York Mets. He's also really good at predicting Oscar winners. Last year, he accurately predicted nineteen out of twenty wins. His book about using math to predict the winners is called Oscarmetrics; think of him as the Nate Silver of Oscar bets. He recently pointed out on Twitter the horserace between two very different films: Barbie, the feminist box-office juggernaut that was the highest grossing film of last year, and Poor Things, the feminist reimagining of the Frankenstein story. (The two movie's feminist themes are just about their only similarities.) The category in question was for Costume Design. Barbie, he wrote, won the Costume Designers Guild Award for Fantasy/Sci Fi, while Poor Things won for Period Film. Barbie also won the Critics Choice Award for the same category, while Poor Things won the BAFTA. "We've got ourselves quite a race," was how he put it.
It's not simply Barbie versus Poor Things in these horse races, and it's not simply over the costume designs. A variety of categories featuring a variety of different films are running neck and neck, making this year's ceremony a bit tougher to predict than last year's, when it was fairly easy to predict that Everything Everywhere All at Once would dominate and most of the other awards were predictable. The only sure bet of this year's awards is that Oppenheimer, the Christopher Nolan-directed, multi-linear retelling of Robert Oppenheimer's internal tormenting of becoming "Death, the Destroyer of Worlds" at having designed the atomic bombs that decimated Japan at the end of World War II, will likely dominate the night. It seems unlikely that Oppenheimer will not bring home prizes for its director and the night's top prize, Best Picture. Da'Vine Joy Randolph is also a shoe-in for Actress in a Supporting Role for her exceptional performance in The Holdovers as a mother in grief who is just trying to persevere, as does Robert Downey Jr. for a third-time's-a-charm victory for Oppenheimer in the Actor in a Supporting Role category.
Other wins seem likely: Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell will probably win their second Oscar for their song in Barbie called "What Was I Made For?", Oppenheimer will pick up a lot of technical awards for things like editing and cinematography, and the British film The Zone of Interest probably is the favorite for International Feature Film. Other categories are less certain. Will Emma Stone win her second Oscar, or will Lily Gladstone make history? (Can't it just be a three-way tie between the two of them and Sandra Hüller?) Will it be Cillian Murphy's performance as the tormented title role in Oppenheimer or Paul Giamatti as a bitter, detested teacher that takes home the statuette?
I regret to say that I was a bit more disappointed in these nominated films than I usually am. Of the fifty-three nominated-films, I can only recommend about three fifths of them. Last year, I liked more than seventy-five percent of them. At any rate, cats and kittens, here is my ranking of all 53 of the 2024 Oscar nominees:
Short Film (Animated) (Stéphanie Clérment, Marc Rius)
I hate to dismiss Pachyderme as "very French," but I'm not sure what else to say. Not much happens here; it's memoir of a young girl spending a few weeks with her grandparents and that's about i. The term "pachyderme" means "thick skin" and is commonly used to refer to animals like elephants and hippopotamuses. Does this have any relevance to the film? I have no idea. Why? Well, it's a very...French...film. The narrator speaking about her time as a young girl has such lines like the following: "Their house is very tidy. The logs arranged by size, the books in alphabetical order, the thimble collection in the vitrine. The car sleeps under its blanket. There's gravel outside so the mud isn't tracked in. The sitting room smells like polish and the kitchen, bleach." So, yeah. While the story leaves much to be desired, the pastel-like visuals in this short film are gorgeous, and they are what likely secured its nomination.
Live Action Short Film (Lasse Lyskæker Noer, Christian Norlyk)
Knight of Fortune, written and directed by Lasse Lyskæker Noer, is a quirky, borderline absurdist film from Denmark about two men who meets as strangers at a morgue, both of them in grief after the losses of their wives. This comedy-drama contains the potential to move many (or some), but I felt nothing while watching it. Knight of Fortune fills in the inevitable spot for an idiosyncratic short from Western Europe. Its juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy didn't work for me, but I suppose I'm glad it worked for others.
Live Action Short Film (Misan Harriman, Nicky Bentham)
The After is as peculiar as it is bleak. A film centering on grief while also serving as a critique of the mass stabbings in England (there were almost 13,000 knife-related offenses in London alone last year), it features a stellar performance by David Oyelowo and his costars, but it's such a desolate experience watching it that one can hardly recommend it. Oyelowo tries to make the best of dismal material (though he likely really bought into it). Despite how morbid it is, one would consider The After (due to its presence on Netflix and its A-list star) a frontrunner in this category, but it is likely to lose to another short available on Netflix. More on that later...
Music (Original Song) ("The Fire Inside" by Diane Warren)
Flamin' Hot, the directorial debut of Eva Longoria about business executive Richard Montañez, is a well-intentioned rags-to-riches story (although there were better similar tales from last year that were more deserving of nominations, like A Million Miles Away and Blue Beetle), surprisingly truthful in its critiques of Reaganomics and racism, but ultimately the kind of capitalist propaganda you would expect if Frito-Lay made a movie about themselves. (It probably doesn't help that Montañez's claims of inventing the Flamin' Hot Cheetos have been refuted by many.) It's ultimately, then, like an older white liberal's version of movies about economics: critique boogeymen without attacking the actual monster that allows the boogeymen to fester. The film's sole nomination is for a song by Diane Warren, who now has fifteen nominations and will likely go home empty-handed yet again (though she was awarded an honorary Oscar in 2022). They should have given her three by now. Like basically all of Warren's recent nominations—"Applause" from Tell It Like a Woman, "Somehow You Do" from Four Good Days, or "Io sì (Seen)" from The Life Ahead, for example—this one is unlikely to remain in your head and even less likely to win.
Visual Effects (Stephane Ceretti, Alexis Wajsbrot, Guy Williams, Theo Bialek)
A morbid, boring, and hackneyed conclusion to a trilogy that started off exceptionally well, this final entry truly felt like two hours of animal torture. Here's how Glen Weldon put it: "The problem at the core of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 isn't the mere depiction of said animal experimentation...It's the fact that writer/director James Gunn approaches those scenes without trusting his audience to naturally recoil at the idea of animal cruelty. There is violent imagery, yes. But what makes those scenes profoundly unpleasant to sit through is not their violence itself, but Gunn's mawkish, maudlin, manipulative approach to it." Weldon didn't care for the film's villain either, the evil scientist called the High Evolutionary (played by Chukwudi Iwuji), calling him a character who shows up to "dutifully, even reflexively hiss." I would add that even if you buy into such villainy, you'll have to put up with a gratuitous amount of screaming from him in the process. Fortunately, a spray-painted Will Pouter as the clueless Warlock attempts to make up for the dejected lack of comic relief from virtually every one else, but it's not enough to save this send-off of the famous Marvel gang.
Actress in a Leading Role (Annette Bening), Actress in a Supporting Role (Jodie Foster)
Best Picture (Bradley Cooper, Steven Spielberg, Fred Berner, Amy Durning, Kristie Macosko Krieger), Actor in a Leading Role (Cooper), Actress in a Leading Role (Carey Mulligan), Cinematography (Matthew Libatique), Makeup and Hairstyling (Kazu Hiro, Kay Georgiou, Lori McCoy-Bell), Sound (Steven A. Morrow, Richard King Jason Ruder, Tom Ozanich, Dean Zupancic), Writing (Original Screenplay) (Cooper, Josh Singer)
Bradley Cooper certainly deserves an A for effort for this film, a biopic about the marriage of composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein and actress Felicia Montealegre, in which it is evident that he poured his heart and soul into it for the past five years. His effort aside, the result does not do much to distinguish itself from other banal biographical films. True, some of the scenes are neat, but they are neat either because of Bernstein's music or the music of others he conducted (like the legendary performance of Mahler's Symphony No. 2), not necessarily because of anything Cooper is doing as a director. In terms of acting, the results are also mixed: I personally felt that Cooper should have won for his performance in A Star is Born five years ago (instead of Remi Malek for Bohemian Rhapsody), but here his performance is distracting. His pained efforts to demonstrate the tole of consistent smoking had on Bernstein's voice and the resulting dysphonia make him sound consistently nasally almost in a humorous, forced way. As Tim Rice put it, "the performance is as prosthetic as Cooper's much-ballyhooed fake nose: It's not acting so much as it's imitation. Maestro's real subject is not Bernstein but Cooper himself. The point is not to celebrate or interrogate the conductor but to show what Bradley Cooper learned in the six years he spent studying conducting." Carey Mulligan, however, does much of the heavy lifting here as Felicia, delivering yet another exceptional performance.
Animated Feature Film (Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson, Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, Amy Pascal)
I wish I could say I liked the newest animated Spider-Man film from Sony, the tenth since 2002, but alas, I did not. I felt as if nothing new was added from the previous entry, Into the Spider-Verse (which won in this category a few years ago). The animation is great—no one would contest that. But (aside from the addition of Oscar Isaac as Spider-Man 2099), everything simply felt like deleted material from the first film. But, I get it. People loved it almost as much (or perhaps more) than its predecessor and even many of the acclaimed live-action versions Marvel and/or Sony made. It's still neat to see the trials and tribulations of Miles Mirales (voiced by Shameik Moore), a teenager in New York balancing a variety of issues. Having taken home the top prize at this year's Annie Awards, Across the Spider-Verse could very well be the frontrunner and take home the big prize yet again.
Best Picture (David Heyman, Margot Robbie, Tom Ackerley, Robbie Brenner), Actor in a Supporting Role (Ryan Gosling), Actress in a Supporting Role (America Ferrera), Costume Design Jacqueline Durran), Music (Original Song) ("I'm Just Ken," by Mark Ronson and Andrew Wyatt), Music (Original Song) ("What Was I Made For?" by Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell), Production Design (Sarah Greenwood, Katie Spencer), Writing (Adapted Screenplay) (Greta Gerwig, Noah Baumbach)
I really, really wanted to like Barbie. I was intrigued when that first teaser gently poked fun at 2001: A Space Odyssey (which is in the film), then was quite excited after the second trailer with the Beach Boys song "Fun, Fun, Fun" (which isn't) blaring away. My high expectations were not met. To be clear, I'm not Ben Shapiro. I'm not whining about the film "unironically" using the word patriarchy. But as a comedy (or even as social commentary), I found it disappointing. As a comedy, in particular, all I can say is that it's never laugh-out-loud funny, whether it's the sophomoric fake vomiting during the "flat feat" scene or Kate McKinnon's antics or Will Ferrell shouting (like he has always done for more than twenty years). That being said, Barbie is a film that's marvelous to look at, especially those wonderful sets by Sarah Greenwood, and the "Dance the Night Away" was peak joy in 2023 cinema. I can't say Barbie is bad, per se. Like a lot of the big films of last year, one can marvel at all the effort that went into it, and it being the highest-grossing film of the year certainly helped it resonate with audience members. The film's messages, like during the MeToo movement, offer just as important lessons for its male audience members as it does for its female audience members, often visualizing problematic behavior of men that they most likely would recognize doing at least once in their lives. The cast look as if they're having a blast, especially Ryan Gosling's performance as the man-child Ken (and the perfect "I'm Just Ken" number). Gosling may not be the frontrunner for Best Supporting Actor, but he deserves to win. His job in this film and how successfully he accomplishes it is more impressive than the other four nominees. Ultimately, though, Barbie is unfortunately not nearly as good as everyone said it was.
Short Film (Live Action) Wes Anderson
I personally think Wes Anderson peaked just over a decade ago with Moonrise Kingdom. Since then, his films have become less and less interesting while simultaneously becoming more and more pretentious. This juxtaposition reached its zenith last year with Asteroid City, which is probably his most obnoxiously overripe project. Fortunately, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is not Asteroid City, mainly because it is an hour shorter and therefore more palatable. It still has many of the annoying qualities in his films: that rapid yet flat delivery of lines, the fantastical (if cumbersome) plot, and (overly) unique cinematography. This does not necessarily make The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, the first of four short films directed by Anderson adapted from Roald Dahl on Netflix last year, this one staring Benedict Cumberbatch, Ralph Fiennes, Ben Kingsley, and Dev Patel, good or bad. It's just that, if one doesn't care of Anderson's recent films, one only has to sit through about forty minutes of it. And if giving Anderson an Oscar after seven nominations means he might finally tone it down, I'm all for it.
Music (Original Score) John Williams
Documentary Short Film (Ben Proudfoot, Kris Bowers)
The Last Repair Shop is a wonderfully composed documentary short about four master craftspeople who repair instruments for students in the Los Angeles Unified School District. All of them are raconteurs, as well, sharing stories of their upbringing or how they came to the United States and, of course, their shared love of music. (One of the more interesting anecdotes is how one of them met Colonel Park—Elvis Presley's manager—who eventually became his son's godfather.) Even though this documentary is a short film, it has an epic, golden feel to it, one that enthusiastically embraces nostalgia and melophilia. Documentarians Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers (who also composed music for last year's The Color Purple) were last nominated in this category three years ago for A Concerto Is a Conversation, though they did not win. (Proudfoot won two years in this category for The Queen of Basketball.) They stand in a good place to win this year.
Animated Feature Film (Nick Bruno, Troy Quane, Karen Ryan, Julie Zackary)
Best Picture (David Hinojosa, Christine Vachon, Pamela Koffler), Writing (Original Screenplay (Celine Song)
Past Lives is a romance film written and directed by Celine Song about two Koreans who were good pals in middle school, parted ways (she and her family moved to Canada—much like Song did in real life—while he stayed in Korea), then met again online after one searched for the other. A potential love affair blossoms, and the film becomes an apt vessel of the often painful coulda-shoulda-woulda hypotheticals that so many of us engage in when pondering (or tormenting) about whom he might have ended up with had things turned out differently. This has been a fan-favorite film since it debuted at Sundance last year. The two lead performances (Greta Lee and Teo Yoo) also do a commendable job as these two characters navigating complicated waters, which is only made trickier once Lee's character Nora falls in love with Arthur (John Magaro). Many fans were disappointed that Lee and Yoo were not nominated in their respective categories, but I would like to add further disappointment about how there has been no Oscar love for a similarly-themed Korean story called Return to Seoul, one of the best films of the decade.
Music (Original Song) ("It Never Went Away" by John Baptiste and Dan Wilson)
Surprisingly nominated for Best Original Song and not for Best Documentary (the movie won the Producers Guild Award for Best Documentary, but did not receive an Oscar nomination for the same category), American Symphony is a documentary that provides its viewers with an up-close view of the highs and lows that were John Baptiste's 2022. We see him honored with achievements like Album of the Year at the Grammys while also supporting his wife, Suleika Jaouad, in her fight against cancer. Baptiste is such a charismatic, sunny figure, but here we see all forms of him: melancholy, exhaustion, anxiety, fear, as well as triumph. This kind of opportunity—to see our heroes struggle and be in physical and mental pain—seems rare.
Documentary Short Film (John Hoffman, Christine Turner)
The Barber of Little Rock so successfully and yet so succinctly visualizes the harsh reality of wealth gaps in the United States, particularly in Little Rock, Arkansas, where the documentary is filmed. Centering on Arlo Washington, a man who founded a barber shop college and the only Black-owned nonprofit loan program in the city, the documentary is a didactic exploration of equity, justice, the myth of the American Dream, and even things like "banking while Black." The Barber of Little Rock contains a potent combination of heartbreak and hope. You owe it to yourself to watch this film, which is available at the New Yorker's YouTube channel to watch for free. As you can see, it's my favorite short film of the year.
Best Picture (Dan Friedkin, Bradley Thomas, Martin Scorsese, Daniel Lupi), Directing (Scorsese), Actress in a Leading Role (Lily Gladstone), Actor in a Supporting Role (Robert De Niro), Cinematography (Rodrigo Prieto), Costume Design (Jacqueline West), Film Editing (Thelma Schoonmaker), Music (Original Score) (Robbie Robertson), Music (Original Song) (Wahzhazhe (A Song for My People), music and lyrics by Scott George), Production Design (Jack Fisk, Adam Willis)
The epic tragedy Killers of the Flower Moon was hailed a masterpiece when it was released this past fall, though it underperformed at the box office. It's worth noting, however, that the film does have its detractors, especially those who feel the film should be scorned for portraying such violence as entertainment and for depicting Native people as victims. Regarding the nominations, it's a pity Leonardo DiCaprio was not nominated, for this is one of his best (if not his best) performances ever. As the slimy, reprehensible Ernest, a man involved in a scheme to murder the newly rich members of the Osage community, it's a performance unlike any of his previous ones. He often is willing to portray such foul characters when Martin Scorsese is the one directing him, as he did in films like The Wolf of Wall Street. Robert De Niro as the real-life mastermind of the conspiracy is also fantastic, as always, and while for a time it seemed like he might bag his third win, he faces too much stiff competition from younger actors who have waited their turn but still not won. (His recent court troubles likely further inhibit his ability to win.) Other elements are certainly worthy of praise, like the attention to detail in Jack Fisk's production design and Adam Willis's sets, as well as the awesome score by the late Robbie Robertson. But the one aspect of the film no one will forget is Lily Gladstone in a phenomenal performance as Mollie, and she could make history as the first Native American woman to win an Oscar. (She was also great in last year's The Unknown Country.)
Best Picture (Emma Thomas, Charles Roven, Christopher Nolan), Actor in a Leading Role (Cillian Murphy), Directing (Nolan), Actor in a Supporting Role (Robert Downey Jr.), Actress in a Supporting Role (Emily Blunt), Cinematography (Hoyte van Hoytema), Costume Design (Ellen Mirojnick), Film Editing (Jennifer Lame), Makeup and Hairstyling (Luisa Abel), Music (Original Score) (Ludwig Göransson), Production Design Ruth De Jong, Claire Kaufman), Sound (Willie Burton, Richard King, Gary A. Rizzo, Kevin, O'Connell), Writing (Adapted Screenplay) (Nolan)
It does not require a heightened inclination towards risky bets to bet on Oppenheimer being the big winner of the night. From the moment it debuted back in August, it was hard not to see it as the runaway favorite for awards season. It makes sense that Oppenheimer is the frontrunner. Its main competitors (Barbie and Killers of the Flower Moon) peaked quite early, it was the best-reviewed drama of the year as well as the best-reviewed wide-release film, and it has also raked in over a hundred awards, far surpassing its main rivals: The Holdovers, Barbie, Killers of the Flower Moon, Poor Things, and Anatomy of a Fall (which have all won over twenty). The film checks a lot of boxes for Oscar votes: It's an art-house drama that also brought in a ton of money with an A-list cast and a household-name director; other than Barbie (whose same-day release as Oppenheimer proved fortunate for both films), no other film of the year permeated pop culture so widely and successfully. The film contains Robert Downey Jr.'s best performance ("unrecognizably subtle," he joked), and other members of the cast (mainly Cillian Murphy as the title character) are phenomenal. My current prediction is that Oppenheimer will win at least seven Oscars. As for my personal feelings of the film, I was not in love with it like I hoped I would be. I appreciate its epic scope, yet I found myself growing wearisome of its convoluted non-linear structure. My patience with the overly intense storytelling seemed to be tested here. (Did we really need scenes of Oppenheimer as a university student?) I would not vote for this to win the top prize on Oscar night, but I wouldn't be angry if it won.
Best Picture (Marie-Ange Luciani, David Thion), Actress in a Leading Role (Sandra Hüller), Directing (Justine Triet), Film Editing Laurent Sénéchal), Writing (Original Screenplay) (Triet, Arthur Harari)
Given how crowded the field for Best Actress has been this season, it's almost a miracle that Anatomy of a Fall was nominated at all. But after winning the Palm d'Or, two Golden Globes, and a host of other trophies, how could it not have a presence at this year's Oscars? In the end, the film earned a surprising four nominations. What's equally surprisingly is this film was not France's nomination for International Feature Film; this seems puzzling, as it would have likely been the frontrunner. (Instead, France chose The Taste of Things, which I have not yet seen, but as of this writing, it is currently the tenth-highest rated film of last year according to Rotten Tomatoes.) As disappointed as I am that Margot Robbie was not nominated for her performance in Barbie, I was thrilled when the incomparable Hüller was, as she gives yet another flawless performance. (This is just one of two Best Picture nominees she is in. She was also in The Zone of Interest.) It's a pity that her young co-star, Milo Machado Graner as the main character's son, was not nominated, as everyone who saw the film was raving about his performance, but it was a super-crowed field for Best Supporting Actor, and the Academy undeniably has a bias against younger actors, with Jacob Tremblay and Brooklyn Prince not being nominated for Room and The Florida Project, respectively, demonstrating that this fact is self-evident. As a film, while Anatomy of a Fall may have the occasional pacing issue, it really shines in that it rejects a more Hollywood approach to sub-genres like murder mysteries and courtroom dramas, shunning hyperbolic dialogue and manipulative musical arrangements in favor of naturalism best seen in many European classics.
Best Picture (Mark Johnson), Actor in a Leading Role (Paul Giamatti), Actress in a Supporting Role (Da'Vine Joy Randolph), Film Editing (Kevin Tent), Writing (Original Screenplay) (David Hemingson)
I really enjoyed watching The Holovers, the Christmas story of an unlikely trio spending their winter break alone but together on a prep school campus. This film, I believe, will become just as recognized as a Christmas classic as many of the other famous ones, up there with It's a Wonderful Life, The Bishop's Wife, and The Shop Around the Corner. From the moment The Holdovers finished, I knew Da'Vine Joy Randolph would be the winner; she's that good in the movie. (She also sings her heart out as Mahalia Jackson in Rustin.) So, too, is Paul Giamatti. He has rarely given a bad performance (with The Amazing Spider-Man 2 being the only example presently coming to my mind), and this, in his role as an authoritarian, boring, paternalistic, curmudgeonly teacher whom none of the students like, is his very best. He occasionally overdoes things just a tad in that Paul Giamatti way, rapidly spewing out some percolating diatribe before erupting in volatile anger, but it mostly works perfectly here. One particular scene I enjoyed is the clip that's constantly played in the promotional material for this film: In the scene, Giamatti's character, a Scrooge-like teacher who relishes being a jerk to his students, has kept them before winter break for one last class to return their essays, which most of them bombed. One student who failed says out loud that he does not understand, to which Giamatti (as Paul Hunham, the teacher) replies with biting sarcasm, "That's glaringly apparent." After the student puts on his best sad-puppy defense-mechanism face and exclaims that he can't fail this course, the reply is equally brutal: "Oh, don't sell yourself short, Mr. Kountze. I truly believe that you can." There is, however, redemptive qualities to him, as most Christmas stories require. The Holdovers is definitely the movie I would vote for for Best Picture if I were a member of the Academy. It's not simply the best of the nominees, but it was the best film of last year (and likely one of the best of the decade).