The Oscars come but once a year. Who shall, shalln’t, and shouldn’t win that sweet, sweet Oscar gold? It’s time to put some shrimp on ice, grab a crisp porter ale, and watch the thrills, shills, probably a La La Land medley, and big Jim Kimmel tell us a consoling thing or two about Dan Trimp! Buckle up your britches, sweet ones!
(Some spoilers ahead)
Finest Direction, in a Filmic Sense
5. Melly Gibbons
TrevorsView Jan 13, 2017
This is what Spider-Man should have been all this time. Here is what Ben Affleck should have done with Batman. Here is a true hero that outshines anyone wearing a colorful, shiny million dollar suit. In fact, all he has to suit him up and protect him from death is the holy word of God. He won’t even dream of laying either an eye or a finger on a rifle. If today’s superheroes can’t help us through gun control, then this real-life hero of Hacksaw Ridge can.
Gib. You’ve won the game. You’re a gibbon now.
4. Denis Villeneuve
Other than the noisome dead girl plot device there’s nothing too unethical going on here, and I applaud anyone trying out something like a cool sci-fi that thinks about how your language informs your thought processes. It’s just such a fumble on the narrative logic and character interaction fronts. Not much feels intuitive.
3. Damien Chazelle
Some good production design and cinematography. I’m just in the camp that would have preferred some more song and dance. Either that or a more layered story. And perhaps it was a fool’s errand to expect the pace and specificity that made Whiplash what it was to have been in La La’s DNA. Still, Simmons’ presence in both films underpins my theory that they take place in the same universe, wherein Simmons is some sort of Two-Face like villain that alternately goes around dumbing down and heightening jazz to its furthest extremes.
2. Kenneth Lonergan
I agree with everyone who liked the subtle black comedy elements and clever little touches that make Manchester breathe with authenticity. I also agree that there’s something of a built in ceiling with how closely it hews to its one terrible event informing just about everything with regards to Affleck’s lead role. But that’s more of a feature than a bug in a project that works at a high level at what it wants to do.
1. Barry Jenkins
There’s always something of a pendulum push-back effect when a critical darling like Moonlight is so characterized by the prominence of its cinematography (that critic’s delight) and a camp decries it as critic bait. Sometimes they’re right. When they’re right, it’s often because the film lacks clarity or panders to a fault. I don’t think either is the case here, this is potent human stuff. One note: the chair that broke the bully’s back really shatters pro-wrestling style. We need better chairs, DeVos.
Shall Prevail: Barry Jenkins(!)
The idea seems to be that Moonlight is the only real dark horse to the La La Land Juggernaut, so let’s go out on a limb and say this year they split Director and Picture honors, thus spreading the wealth. But yeah, probably Chazelle.
Most Supportive Man
5. Dev Patel
Very standard role in a very typical awards season biopic, Patel is an ol’ hunk emoting a great deal, just what the doctor ordered. It’s just a tough film to love. As with Viola Davis, hard to tell how this ends up in the supporting category. He’s on screen for almost all of his half of the two hour running time. And that…probably means they should’ve branched out a little.
4. Lucas Hedges
I don’t know if the film sets up the role to be all that dynamic, with a lot filmed over his or Affleck’s shoulders, or outside the car as they bicker in the car. Definitely convinces as a young man right at the center of mourning and puberty, leaves nothing wanted. Would like to know what position he plays on the hockey team. He seems like a defenceman.
3. Mahershala Ali
Very memorable in a small role, and in a very dialogue-light film, delivers the best lines. Would like to have seen some more of him, but his absence after the first act is deliberate, any more and Moonlight is a very different film.
2. Jeff Bridges
He’s somewhere on the spectrum of witty disaffection he’s been playing over and over now, and that mode may be wearing a little thin, but I for one am still having fun. It’s a shame his half of High Water’s narrative is the more rote, but he does sell the pivot from comedian to revenge seeker well. It’s a shame his story doesn’t seem to quite contribute to the film’s more interesting takeaways at first glance, but then again, the politics of revenge is not a bad way of putting what the film seems to be thinking about.
1. Michael Shannon
A Juggernautish favorite and a true champion in general, Shannon brings his effortless charisma and a Cohen Bros.-ian jolt of dark humor to the project. He starts off seemingly untrustworthy, dismissive and antagonistic, only to inevitably reveal himself as a fierce knight of pulpy justice. He’s exceedingly well-cast. It’s a real shame Nocturnal Animals ends on an ill-advised, reductive twist.
Shall Prevail: Mahershala Ali
Supportive Women in Cinema
5. Nicole Kidman
No complaints, she’s just not given much to do.
4. Octavia Spencer
Hidden Figures has as charismatic a cast as you could ask for. Taraji Henderson, Janelle Monae and Kevin Costner are all pretty good too. I think this nomination kind of works as one for the entire team. Teamwork is what it’s about.
3. Michelle Williams
Strong work in a small role, very effectively simulates the process of crying while trying to communicate in words that just want to jumble out at random; the panic and despair as an inevitable parting inevitably arrives. I think it’s shrewd that we see her so little throughout the film before, makes that moment more powerful.
2. Naomie Harris
Delivers in a big way on the volatility front, including a scene that seems to want to evoke a panic attack on the part of the protagonist, and boy does she make a catalyst. As Moonlight is set up as to depict the protagonist’s mindspace, she’s not allowed to reveal a ton of unexpected layers. She’s remote, but she’s supposed to be because that’s how her son feels about her.
1. Viola Davis
Where the film is mostly shot in a minimal way evocative of the stage, which can sometimes leave actors to struggle when they’re not speaking or directly engaged by who is, does a really impressive job communicating without words. And when she is speaking, look out. Classically done.
Shall Prevail: Viola Davis
Best Baby Boy
Role unseen as of today. The light of thethirdrevelation’s life reports, however, that’s he’s fine, just doesn’t have much material worth elevating to Oscar gold realms.
4. Ryan Gosling
Not to knock, but one wonders with both him and Stone how the whole project may have resonated differently with lesser known actors as Hollywood unknowns. Narratively, I never got what turned Stone’s Mia on to Seb given the Debbie Downer routine she receives, short fusing the whole romance. Whether that’s on the director or the actor is anyone’s guess.
3. Andrew Garfield
For what it’s worth, I did appreciate Garfield in Hacksaw, he certainly exudes what he’s asked to. Not kidding, Spider-man had to be a good experience to be able to draw from for the hero’s tale. I would say let’s hope Hollywood gets its ‘based on true events’ obsession out of its system, but that’s probably a pipe dream.
2. Denzel Washington
You can tell he’s spent time playing the character, I can only imagine seeing him live. Perhaps the biggest feat is his ability to leave you any sympathy for the character despite allowing himself so little in the performance to elicit it.
1. Casey Affleck
He’s seems a little one note but that’s exactly the idea: he’s a man left hiding in a note. He’s a tough onion to peel, yet peel he does. Tears ensue. For those new to the actor, do yourself a favor and check out the excellent and little seen The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Take a wild guess who Affleck plays.
Shall Prevail: Denzel Washington
Which is also a great choice.
Queen of the Castle!
5. Natalie Portman
For someone perhaps under-educated as to the Kennedy family and the finer details surrounding the assassination, Jackie came off at times a touch hollow, perhaps geared toward the expert? Portman’s shock, seething bitterness and despair register impressively, but I found myself regularly wondering if I was lacking context knowledge to understand layers of meaning behind why she emphasizes or chooses certain turns of phrase just so, leaving the screenplay feeling scattered as often as arch, especially when ruminating on legacy. As far as simulation, which seems to be our raison d’être, the remake of the 1962 White House tour and production design generally is fairly captivating, though Portman’s approximation of Jackie’s accent and manner feels a little over-played.
4. Emma Stone
Stone has one of the most expressive faces in Hollywood and it’s certainly on display here. She’s deceptively great with the audition line readings, easily my favorite part of the film: some seem perfectly fine, some are a just little flat so you can see why casting would pass, and some are delightfully clunky.
3. Meryl Streep Sweet Sheep
I went into Florence Foster Jenkins with little knowledge of the woman or her singing. The key bit of Streep’s performance is spent caterwauling incredibly badly, and for the uninitiated, it sounds impossibly over the top, and not as singularly hilarious as her audiences seem to find it (she couldn’t have been that bad). Then, the film ends with a brief snippet of the real Jenkins’ singing and… we really would have been well served with that as a prologue because it turns out she was exactly that bad, and Streep is basically nailing it.
If one can ignore that the film portrays Jenkins as more oblivious than she may have been for effect, I actually enjoyed it. Before things end with an inevitable melodramatic cudgeling, there’s a lot of razor sharp comic timing, along with a good balance of silly and sweet. It mostly earns its warmness, and Streep is a treat. Hugh Grant is also very good, resembling thirdrevelation favorite Patrick McGoohan in feature, regal posture and clipped intonation.
2. Ruth Negga
Loving may be one of the most underappreciated films of the year, at least, coming from a fan of Juggernautish favorite director Jeff Nichols. It’s fascinating how motifs from earlier Nichols films–here the paranoia is finally 100% clearly justified–naturally fit this story. Negga is working with a high degree of difficulty, hitting home completely without the benefit of anything in the way of showcase moments. She doesn’t need them.
1. Isabelle Huppert
I don’t speak a lick of French and this is a dialogue-heavy film so I’m limited in my appraisal, but even so, Huppert is mesmerizing while owning the strange core of a Verhoeven project that seems to want to subvert every trope it can imagine and then double back again (maybe fecklessly at times). None of it works if Huppert doesn’t command both such authentic and variously affected beats. I’m not sure if any specific light bulb went on for me as far as agency, sex, aging, role playing, or any of the myriad themes at play in Elle, but that seems to be by design, for worse or better. While I’m not sure how I feel about the film at the end of the day, Huppert is damn engaging.
Shall Prevail: Emma Stone
Finest Picture, for All Mankind
For this section, we’re employing the first annual On Cinema At the Cinema style rating system, for your enjoyment and an enriched context, and so you know what to watch and what to skip. All are champions of Oscar glory, they were nominated for Best Picture were they not? It’s a 1 to 5 scale.
9. Lion — Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe an Oscar, I think that’s the idea
The less known about it going in the better, as Weinstein co.’s true-story biopic comes with a ceiling on its dramatic stakes to begin with. Half Calcutta tourist flick about a lost little boy in an incredibly dangerous situation that seems hellbent on always pivoting away from implying real peril as quickly as possible, half gauzy award performance showcase, it at least benefits from not dealing with a major figure and the associated mangling of history (see The Theory of Everything, The Imitation Game, The King’s Speech, etc).
Like with so many biopics, it’s a shame there isn’t time to characterize anyone much beyond their immediate relation to Brierley’s central conflict. His girlfriend and adoptive family never suggest much of a life beyond, so their incredibly steadfast support feels neither here nor there. The same lack of context goes for Bierley’s specific conflict—what’s he like when he’s not Googling his birthplace, nuzzling post coitus, or brooding (“We swan about in our privileged lives!!”)? Does he have a dog? A little…chow or something?
8. Hacksaw; or, Dip and a Ridged Chip — Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe a Bible–you forgot yours
Hacksaw Ridge just scans as too silly to gain any dramatic traction, coming off as propaganda, at least to the uninitiated. I always appreciate a reluctant warrior story and a man sticking to his guns, so to speak. Desmond Doss’ is a story worth knowing. But this is rote and perfunctory to a surreal degree, kind of a time capsule from the conservative 50’s. The stalker romance, the way he forgets his bible (of course he did!) just so. Such a wonderful backlit boy. The squad members who really terrorized Dodd reduced to lovable scamps. The battles are well done in a sense, and the gore is appreciated insofar as, if you’re going to depict war, the more realism the better. But this is consistently staged as a heart-pumping action flick: the two week campaign condensed into two days, the stormtrooper enemies that can’t hit our hero as he’s portrayed leaping from man to man just yards away, always at the nick of time, the force-fielded edge of the ridge where he keeps doing his pulley thing. We seem to be closer to playing army guys than a Saving Private Ryan, which earned its melodrama more convincingly through the unflinching-take-on-war idea. Garfield gives a strong performance for what it’s worth, he certainly exudes what was asked.
7. Arrival — Five Bags of Popcorn, and maybe a Copy of David Bowie’s 1969 Album David Bowie, Featuring “Space Oddity”
Arrival is definitely to be applauded for the macro message on cooperation, and it tries to get there with some slick sci-fi imagery and the concept of linguistic relativity: the idea that language and thought processes influence one another, which is beautiful and true. It’s gotten a lot of praise for being smart, and it is in a sense, but a disinterest in character building, along with multiple ticking-time-bomb scenarios there just to inject a sense of stakes that never feel credible, dulls things down. Like Interstellar, another notably ‘smart’ sci-fi, it seems to want to turn you on to science (great!) but doesn’t trust the audience to follow along without an emotional gut wrenching it doesn’t really need. If the dead little girl for the sake of pathos doesn’t ruffle you, fair enough, but at least a set up where the alien language grants Adams, maybe, keen foresight, or a new perspective on the situation, rather than full on reverse total recall would be welcome. Arrival was adapted from a short story “Story of Your Life” and everything likely comes across more smoothly on the page, where I understand the action movie aspects are absent. Hey, at least now we know why McConaughey’s hero is himself five years in the future.
6. Hidden Figures — Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe enough fuel for the delta-V we need for re-entry burn
Four(!) years after Alfonso Cauron’s Gravity taught us to keep our heads down, we have a pro-space movie! We could have trimmed a scene or two, but a solid ensemble cast and enough attention-capturing lines–“At NASA we all pee the same color”—leaves us in a stable orbit. At $145m domestic, Hidden Figures was the top grossing film of 2016 that wasn’t a tentpole/franchise or animated sing-fest designed to become one. Not incidentally, it’s also a standard-bearer for a year that saw a record number of top 100 films with female leads.
5. La La Land — Five bags of Popcorn, and a big ol’ dumptruck, for all that Oscar gold
One narrative on La La Land is that it’s largely a setup to quite a payoff of an emotional punch at the end, and where you stand will depend on whether that punch gets through to you. Well, it didn’t, but I’m not a hater. From production stills and Chazelle’s excellent Whiplash I came in figuring that if nothing else this would have a very specific voice to it, one that may or may not strike a personal chord (and please, no cheap nostalgia) but something clear. It turns out any nostalgia going on is nicely embedded in the production design and the story’s nothing if not direct. Any really harsh criticism of Stone and Gosling’s song and dance routines is off base—what do you expect, Danny Kaye?—but for a musical that’s in part a love letter to musicals (right?) it’s a little short on songs. So we just don’t have many opportunities for “wow” moments, say, on the level of Anne Hathaway’s show stopper from Les Mis or even Channing Tatum’s elaborate dance sequence in Hail, Ceasar! this year. The romance didn’t do much for me, largely as we’re never really shown why Mia responds to Seb’s rude Debbie Downer in the first place, but I do appreciate the theme of keeping alive the spirit of worthwhile things, and how difficult that is.
4. Fences– Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe a copy of Blue Oyster Cult’s Agents of Fortune album, featuring “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper”
I’m no great student of the stage, but made comment while watching Fences that I hate how critics seem to knock stage to screen adaptations for leaving things stagey, as if it’s a sin in and of itself. That can be a tool too, guys. A less inside-out approach could have made some of the monologues sound a bit less like, well, monologues, but a monologue once in a while isn’t so bad. Washington and Davis are both superlative. The depiction of the disabled brother comes off as a product of the 50’s in more ways than one, though, kind of dated at best and a clunky narrative contrivance at worst. The arc with the football-playing son is surprisingly moving.
3. Moonlight — Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe a chrome grill, because I’m honestly still not sure how they work
Probably the best cinematography and command of texture and mood of the set, sometimes bringing Terrence Malick (The Tree of Life) to mind without the freaky-cosmic. Moonlight is effectively restrained in its storytelling, and if the surreal and minimalist tendencies are a little showy, I still found it pretty sumptuous, especially with it’s knack for being quiet. This is a story about a quiet soul. It may be limited by the thee part structure, especially where a hell of a lot happens unseen between the second and third act. Just a bit more connective tissue there may have gone a way toward helping the emotional payoff land, but, then again, the lack of it lends the last sequence a unique sort of mysteriousness.
2. Manchester by the Sea — Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe a funeral pyre like they used in Medieval times
Putting a ton of pressure on Affleck, Manchester comes off even more singularly about its particular damaged protagonist than Moonlight, which feels like it speaks to more universal feelings and experiences. Idiosyncrasy is the name of the game here, and Affleck comes through quite impressively, even if the persona he creates is so interior as to be perhaps not as indelible as some of the classic depictions of damaged people. Your mileage may vary. As abashfulharvestman pointed out to me, Manchester may be limited by hewing so closely to its “terrible thing fulcrum”; at the least, I’d like to have seen the characters explored from some more inconspicuous life events. Still, excellent screenplay in its way, and I was torn between Affleck and Washington for best baby boy.
1. Hell or High Water — Five bags of Popcorn, and maybe a ticket to Westworld, because I keep having this dream I can’t wake up from and I’m not sure if I did something wrong
OK, in the end, I don’t quite know where to put Hell or High Water. I’ll say this: it’s always nice to put something at the end of your list that strikes a personal chord, presenting something you noticed that maybe not everyone did. Since we’ve been making these should-wins, Her struck that chord for me in 2013; Whiplash, and even Amour almost did, Argo maybe not so much.
The revenge on the Banks angle is admittedly blunt as far as allegory, to start. And I don’t know if the characters come to life perfectly: Pine is empathetic if not entirely convincing; Foster is exciting but maybe overacting; Bridges is very charming, but that particular mode of his is getting a bit predictable. But the visceral takeaway for me, and I think it’s entirely purposeful, is the local civilians’ (who I think we’re to understand are also bank victims) universal and immediate eagerness to engage in high-holy ballistics. To discharge their holy weapons, dispensing justice. In this otherwise almost oppressively sparse, deserted, sleepy environment, they’ve been itching for it, for that posse. To be sure, this is in response to a bank robbery, with the pointing of loaded guns at people, so there’s a measure of balance here, some justification. We’re not exactly demonizing.
Who’s being robbed? Everybody? So, some are robbing, and some are shooting robbers. And even the robbers, for all we know, OK, probably, are voting for their banks, and their station, because at the end of the day, violence and mayhem is what we respond to and use. I need to do a rewatch, but I believe the civilian shoots first in the botched bank job, not the cop or the robber. The story of the cop partners may not tie into that theme as well as it could, but on the other end, it also ends up being a story about where and why you ought to point your gun.
Shall Prevail: La La Land