The day of the 87th Academy Awards is upon us, and as promised, I've viewed every single nominee for "Best Picture". Now is time to rank them, so from least to most favorite, and additionally what I think their chances for winning are, here's the list.
8. The Theory of Everything. Out of all the nominees, this is the one I didn't enjoy; and while my initial reaction was heightened due to a raging headache, with some thought, I've arrived at a firm, conclusive "meh." When people use the term "Oscar bait," I can only imagine this film comes to mind. Let's go down the 'hot-button' checklist, shall we?
- Period Piece.
- Protagonist w/disability.
- Biopic.
- Set in Britain.
- Atheism.
Check, and check. Now, all these elements feature in great movies, but what The Theory of Everything does is use the aforementioned to mask its weak story. For too long, the movie wastes time with the nanny characters, inciting a back-and-forth love triangle that stops the movie dead in its tracks. For a movie exploring the life of Stephen Hawking, one of the most revolutionary scientists to emerge in the past fifty years, I'm stunned the movie needs to waste time on ideas better suited for a Nicholas Sparks book. The film meanders along aimlessly until major scenes come around, whether it be Stephen and Jane's first use of a letter/color board, or at dinner with old friends. Instead, we get marital woes, montages, lame comedy, and too many scenes devoted to people sitting down and talking.
Despite the problems, what I think grabs the Academy's attention are the leads: Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones, as Stephen and Jane Hawking. Both are immersed in their characters' lives: mannerisms, personalities and all. Redmayne's physical prowess is extraordinary, and with only a few seconds of thought, I find the juggling act of lines, dialect, emotion, physical struggles, and the endurance to keep those struggles prominent, impossible to conceptualize, let alone actualize. Add in his charm and vulnerability, and Redmayne becomes a serious Best Actor contender. However, let us not forget Jones, whose quiet, but fiercely loyal and strong Jane shares as much of the running time as Redmayne. Though he can disappear into the fame and accolades when trouble arises, she faces it head-on, showing the life of a woman whose thoughts are occupied by others more than should ever be demanded. Facing conflict is one thing, but Jane's kind heart and playfulness shines through in Jones' performance, making her a thrill to watch.
The Theory of Everything is a mixed bag, and despite the Oscar bait, I don't think (barring a major upset) that voters will be ready to pick it. If given a weaker year, the traditional elements might stand a chance, but this year's gallery of nominees are too strong for this film to stand a chance.
7. American Sniper. If looking for an editorial based on a historical approach, I suggest you type in "'American Sniper' thoughts" on Google, grab a snack, and enjoy the ride. I empathize with all commenters from all over the political spectrum.
Take away the hype and punditry, and American Sniper is alright. It's an adequate portrayal of a man driven to fight and defend "God, country, and family." If Clint Eastwood is the driving force behind the film, it's his blunt direction that leaves the mark.
Eastwood is straightforward, which leaves the film with strong and weak aspects. In the middle of battle, action is dynamic without being suffocating, thrilling and suspenseful. The movie offers little commentary; along with screenwriter Jason Hall, Eastwood presents Chris Kyle's spirit from the novel accurately.
Where the simplicity fails is in the editing. The film's script is full of ideas: Kyle's biography, the details of his mission in Iraq, relationship with his family and friends, and PTSD. Eastwood, presenting the story as is, leaves the film cluttered, jam-packing two hours with moderate focus on all aspects. As a result, the emotional impact of Kyle's PTSD never hits as strong as it should (the bar scene from the trailer is disappointingly short), and the supporting cast, especially Kyle's wife (Sienna Miller), devolves into cliché territory as she bemoans about how even when he's home, he's never really "home." Instead of spending so much time on every aspect of the mission, including the rival sniper, a greater focus on how Kyle's work affects his family, would better serve a look into what difficulties a soldier faces.
Among the politics and think pieces, there's one aspect that seems clear across the board: this is one of, if not, Bradley Cooper's best performances. Ignore the weight gain and accent for a second. Cooper IS Kyle: his determination to protect, his candid loyalty to his idealized America, confusion towards anyone who would dare speak negatively of the SEALs. He completely gets lost in the role, and sells it so convincingly, one can't help but be fascinated by Kyle as a character. It's my favorite Cooper role, just behind Rocket Raccoon (if you would've told me I would type this sentence two years ago, I'd laugh in your face.)
What are American Sniper's chances for the trophy? Unless the voters' politics sway the decision substantially, my thoughts are the same as with Theory: there are too many more critically-praised and award-winning nominees in the mix.
6. The Imitation Game. I'd offer this film as the flipside to Theory of Everything: the more dramatic, heartfelt, and thrilling of the British biographical period pieces about brilliant intellectuals featuring their relationship with equally brilliant women. While Theory of Everything uses its Oscar bait to hide its aimlessness, The Imitation Game is a taut, intelligent drama about a man working to define his identity and find acceptance, set in the backdrop of World War II.
Benedict Cumberbatch is Alan Turing, the scientist whose "logic machines" served as the prototype for computers, charged with the task of uncovering the Enigma code, used by the Nazis to deliver encrypted messages. Cumberbatch shows off a softer side than his roles as Sherlock and Khan, but is no less convincing playing the smartest guy in the room. The strongest scenes feature Turing in crisis, whether it be his frustrations with solving the code or accepting his difficulties. Cumberbatch is equal parts inspiring and heartbreaking, in a performance that grows stronger in my mind everyday.
Director Morten Tyldum manages to keep all ideas afloat: the Enigma code, Turing's ostracism, his homosexuality and the troubles it brings. However, the movie never loses sight of the big picture. As it cuts from Turing's Bletchley Park headquarters to the firebombings of London, Tyldum reminds us of the stakes, of all the lives endangered every day the code isn't solved. He keeps the story thrilling, as we view it through the eyes of an equally confused, terrified, brilliant man. The Imitation Game is a drama that has it all.
If the "Oscar Bait" plays a role in voters' minds this year, I'd understand if they choose the film. It's not winning the bulk of Directors' or Producers' Guild Awards, though, which makes me wary of its shots.
5. Whiplash. I have no faith in this to win Best Picture, not a shred. But as evidenced by my "Top Ten Favorites of 2014," I adore this film. This is the kind of movie that shakes up genre, style, and dialogue. It gives people like me, bored with Hollywood's craze of "re-imagining" everything, hope for unabashedly original stories. Oh, did I mention this is a debut?
Damien Chazelle deserves more praise than he's getting, but I understand. His indie drama stands up to the likes of Linklater, Iñárritu, and Eastwood; of course Chazelle is an underdog, but don't think for a second he hasn't earned a comparsion. Whiplash is meticulous, in style, performance, and editing. The story moves at just the right pace, keeping tension while allowing time to breathe and take in the atmosphere and transformation of Andrew's world in this jazz conservatory. The cool colors, syncopated edits, explosive soundtrack: this world is alive, vibrant, yet dangerous.
J.K. Simmons has won a shelf full of "Best Supporting Actor" awards, as his bone-chilling performance deserves, but let's not forget Miles Teller, who's gone from playing a wisecracking jackass in "21 And Over" to an obsessed, self-destructive young man driven to madness by glory. His transformation, guided by Chazelle, is slow, but daunting. Teller enters naïve, emerges confident. If ever a breakout role were to succeed, this would be it.
4. Selma. David Oyelowo and Ava DuVernay deserved nominations. Oyelowo is transformative, owning the role of Dr. King: a subtle, yet triumphant performance. Not only did he deserve the Best Actor nomination, but stack him up against any of the nominees, and you'll find he deserves the award.
But if there's a not-so-silent heroine of this story, it's DuVernay. She corrals every element, from the performances to the script, the cinematography to the editing, to fit her specific, yet ambitious vision. DuVernay presents King as figurehead, and figurehead only. Of course we admire the reverend's work and his tenacity, but she makes sure to reign in the hero worship and show the issue as it should be: a look at institutionalized racism and the difficulties presented when trying to change laws validated by the highest officials of government.
She lines up the players from opposing sides, allowing them to speak their piece, and if this starts to resemble a chessboard, it should. We become enraptured in the maneuvers necessary to inspire political change, discerning what issues are most effective to attack, where to protest, how to protest, what demographics to appeal to, and which local opponent will provide the easiest victory.
However, Selma never gets lost in intellectualization. Its best moments are intimate: a pre-Nobel Peace Prize conversation between Martin and Coretta, an interaction with a grandfather mourning his grandson. Selma reveals not only how people affect politics, but how politics affect people.
So here's the rub: will it win? I don't think so. I can be cynical (or realistic, depending on who you ask,) and say the Academy used its Black sympathy vote on "12 Years a Slave" last year. However, this is a tough year full of ambitious projects, and I think ambition will play a massive role in how the voters will sway. When looking at the effort spent to make some of these pictures, Selma's process is a little too traditional to grab people's attention. But to offer hope for fans, Selma is the type of film whose life won't begin and end with the Academy Awards. I predict many required high school viewings ahead.
3. The Grand Budapest Hotel. Cue the balalaikas! From beginning to end, I was grinning like an idiot. If we gave the Oscar to a film experience, the most fun had while watching, I'd give it to this in a heartbeat.
When thinking of the Oscars, one thinks of highbrow dramas and depressing examinations of the intricacies of life. You think of thematic tales, hot-button issues. So here's my question: how does an eccentric, candy colored, pop-up book of a murder mystery, draped in comedy, grab 9 Oscar nominations? 9?! It's simple when you think about it: The Grand Budapest Hotel is a good, fun movie.
Wrapped in four layers of framing (director Wes Anderson probably looks at Inception and giggles), Mr. Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) guides us through his adventures as a youth, the new lobby boy at the GRAND Budapest Hotel. Why "grand" in all caps? Well, that's how Monsieur Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) sees it. He's the beloved owner of the hotel keeping everything perfect for his guests (especially the elderly women), down to the smallest detail. Whenever one of his most admired guests dies, he, along with Zero, travels to her funeral, where all hell breaks loose, including drama about a will, the ownership of a famous painting, and the particulars of Madame's death...
I compare this film to a pop-up book made for adults. The movie's vibrant, obsessed with composing shots symmetrically, as if drawn that way. We see miniatures, multiple distinct sets and production designs: all a joy to behold.
Ralph Fiennes is snubbed an Oscar nomination as the captivating, proper, and eccentric Gustave, flowing between witty dialogue and Chaplin-esque physical comedy with ease; and Tony Revolori delivers a breakout performance as the loyal, weirded-out, only-jealous-when-his-girlfriend-is-brought-up Zero. This doesn't even begin to cover all the cameos and secondary performances from the likes of Willem Dafoe, Harvey Keitel, and Saoirse Ronan, but let me tell you: they are all phenomenal, cast perfectly, hitting all the right marks.
So with seemingly ALL the nominations (tied with this list's number 2), what are The Grand Budapest Hotel's chances for the trophy? I think it's possible. So much attention has been placed on other nominees, and I think this movie could end up being a dark horse victory. Wes Anderson delivers an ambitious, unforgettable, hilarious comedy, bolstered by a fantastic ensemble cast. Too much ado about a silly film? Probably. But does it have the chops? Definitely.
2. Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue Of Ignorance). Of the nominees, Birdman has occupied most of my thoughts. It's been a slow burn; I saw it as the second part of a double-feature with Whiplash (a great day, I might add), and I enjoyed Whiplash a little more. But then the movie started working its way into my mind. I began to analyze the performances, and the cinematography, and the story, and its themes, and the direction, and then comes December where it skyrockets from my number six to my second favorite movie of the year. Honestly, an hour before the ceremony, who do I think will win the Oscar? This film. So what's prompted this slow takeover of my mind?
It comes in two parts. The first, obviously, is the film's technical mastery. The idea of a movie that looks like one long take, resembling a theatrical performance is one thing. But all one needs to do is think of how complex the staging is. Characters move in and out of frame, sometimes for a second. There are scenes that go from room to room, down stairs, through monologues and dialogue. The lighting has to be right; the camera angles need to be precise, yet have a fluid look. Any actor involved, from Keaton to Galifanakis will tell you of the constant "alertness," the need to be focused and deliver their best 100% of the time, so as not to be the one wrong move that sends the Jenga tower falling to the floor and embarrass themselves.
As I watch Birdman, I look for edits. I sat down for my second and third viewings with the intent of catching all the little tricks. Luckily, with a DVD, one can pause and go frame by frame, but transitions like the one from Mike and Sam's first rooftop conversation to a shot from the middle of the street stuns me; I still have no idea how this angle can be achieved without a slight cut. It envelops a viewer like me in the filmmaking process, immersing us in this kinetic world.
It comes in two parts. The first, obviously, is the film's technical mastery. The idea of a movie that looks like one long take, resembling a theatrical performance is one thing. But all one needs to do is think of how complex the staging is. Characters move in and out of frame, sometimes for a second. There are scenes that go from room to room, down stairs, through monologues and dialogue. The lighting has to be right; the camera angles need to be precise, yet have a fluid look. Any actor involved, from Keaton to Galifanakis will tell you of the constant "alertness," the need to be focused and deliver their best 100% of the time, so as not to be the one wrong move that sends the Jenga tower falling to the floor and embarrass themselves.
As I watch Birdman, I look for edits. I sat down for my second and third viewings with the intent of catching all the little tricks. Luckily, with a DVD, one can pause and go frame by frame, but transitions like the one from Mike and Sam's first rooftop conversation to a shot from the middle of the street stuns me; I still have no idea how this angle can be achieved without a slight cut. It envelops a viewer like me in the filmmaking process, immersing us in this kinetic world.
Now, I start Birdman looking for the edits, but often I just get lost watching the story. This is a black comedy, taking shots at the "selfie" generation, egomaniacs of the theater world, the "assembly line" mentality of superhero franchises, and what they mean for actors searching for real art. When looking thematically, however, ego emerges among the rest. The film centers around pathetic people looking to be validated, whether it be through financial, critical, and social success, love, or just to shut the voice in one's head telling them they're worthless.
Director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu focused on the internal voice as part of his life, the antagonist in one's mind, that, while able to push one past their comfort zone and work hard, can destroy their esteem, making them feel completely insignificant. (I can relate to that thought: my Birdman will often emerge when typing away. Editing these reviews often starts and stops with realizing what I've typed is trash, erasing everything and going at it again.)
As the movie nears the end, I can't help but feel bittersweet. Certainly, there are elements of accomplishment, but it doesn't feel right. In a way, I feel life is similar. We'll never truly feel satisfied, despite whatever level of success we achieve. Is there a remedy, a place we can accept? I'm not sure, but films like Birdman start the conversation on a high note. This is the kind of film that will not only be remembered, but celebrated.
Director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu focused on the internal voice as part of his life, the antagonist in one's mind, that, while able to push one past their comfort zone and work hard, can destroy their esteem, making them feel completely insignificant. (I can relate to that thought: my Birdman will often emerge when typing away. Editing these reviews often starts and stops with realizing what I've typed is trash, erasing everything and going at it again.)
As the movie nears the end, I can't help but feel bittersweet. Certainly, there are elements of accomplishment, but it doesn't feel right. In a way, I feel life is similar. We'll never truly feel satisfied, despite whatever level of success we achieve. Is there a remedy, a place we can accept? I'm not sure, but films like Birdman start the conversation on a high note. This is the kind of film that will not only be remembered, but celebrated.
1. Boyhood. Just like in December, I've had (and if we're to be honest, still have) a mental fistfight between this and Birdman, but as far as the Oscars go, and subsequent viewings will allow, Boyhood stands in my mind as the accomplishment of 2014.
Let's look at 2014. When we regard a movie as "Best Picture" of any year, an element that emerges is a movie's relation to that time, whether it be social, technical, what have you. With this criteria in mind, Boyhood shows us an America in the middle of reevaluating its ideals and values. We're looking at what constitutes "family" differently. We're looking at success differently, possibly diverting from a "money-first" view. In a sense, Americans, especially younger generations, are learning what to make of their lives.
Director Richard Linklater seems to assert that we don't see life as a blueprint, a series of goals (graduation, career, marriage, children) to achieve. Instead, we cherry pick a blend of intimate, powerful moments that when analyzed, we find the effects of upon our personalities.
We often don't know how or where life will take us, and approach the idea of "growing up" as taking place from 1st to 12th Grade, but Boyhood reminds us that we are fluid, we are constantly changing, all with the hope that where we'll end up will be better than where we are. As America reflects upon its problems, whether they be racial, financial, global, gender or sexuality-influenced, the film suggests we not be so quick to stick to tradition or pre-determined plans, for we don't seize the moment, "the moment seizes us."
Will Boyhood win? Initially, it's been the frontrunner, but as awards season progresses, Birdman seems to be taking the mantle. However, for my money, Boyhood is a film unlike any other: a 12 year masterpiece, that seems poised to be a hallmark of not only Linklater's career, but American cinema as a whole.
Let's look at 2014. When we regard a movie as "Best Picture" of any year, an element that emerges is a movie's relation to that time, whether it be social, technical, what have you. With this criteria in mind, Boyhood shows us an America in the middle of reevaluating its ideals and values. We're looking at what constitutes "family" differently. We're looking at success differently, possibly diverting from a "money-first" view. In a sense, Americans, especially younger generations, are learning what to make of their lives.
Director Richard Linklater seems to assert that we don't see life as a blueprint, a series of goals (graduation, career, marriage, children) to achieve. Instead, we cherry pick a blend of intimate, powerful moments that when analyzed, we find the effects of upon our personalities.
We often don't know how or where life will take us, and approach the idea of "growing up" as taking place from 1st to 12th Grade, but Boyhood reminds us that we are fluid, we are constantly changing, all with the hope that where we'll end up will be better than where we are. As America reflects upon its problems, whether they be racial, financial, global, gender or sexuality-influenced, the film suggests we not be so quick to stick to tradition or pre-determined plans, for we don't seize the moment, "the moment seizes us."
Will Boyhood win? Initially, it's been the frontrunner, but as awards season progresses, Birdman seems to be taking the mantle. However, for my money, Boyhood is a film unlike any other: a 12 year masterpiece, that seems poised to be a hallmark of not only Linklater's career, but American cinema as a whole.
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Well, that's it! All that's left is for us to turn on the TV and keep our ears to the screen. The 2014 American movie year is almost over, and it's been a fun ride. Who's gonna win? Who will be snubbed? Will Neil Patrick Harris be better than Ellen? It's finally time! The 87th Academy Awards are underway! Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off!
