Welcome to the Man Without a Plan's "Best Picture" showcase for the 88th Academy Awards! Like last year, I'll be ranking the nominees based on preference, as well as giving some insight as to what films I think have the best chance of taking home the gold tonight. Before the ceremony, let's brush up on some of the year's best.
8) Bridge of SpiesIf there's a nominee most people have a problem with, it's Bridge of Spies, because in their minds, even an average-quality Steven Spielberg/Tom Hanks collaboration will get Oscar voters itching in their seats.
Surely, Spielberg and Hanks have nothing to lose. The pair have accumulated five Oscars and the acclaim of both critics and movie-lovers. Hanks is only second to James Stewart as American cinema's best everyman, and Spielberg is synonymous with the word 'director', with a fantastic instinct for moments and visuals that will capture an audience's attention and passion. There's no real stress for both of them; the Coen brothers helm a screenplay that lets the story be more laid-back than Spielberg's usual fare. The important question, then, for Bridge of Spies, is not "How?" nor "What?" but rather, "Why?"
In a political climate that fears the influence of Islam, among a population that believes terrorism is an ethnicity, I find a film like this important, the same way people saw Selma as important during the outbreak of riots against police brutality. America has always struggled with its idealism in the face of practical desires and gains (slavery, manifest destiny, the Monroe Doctrine, democracy vs. republicanism), and where the government is practical, James Donovan (Hanks) opposes, promoting the spirit of what America hopes to be: a democracy whose laws and bureaucracy follow a morally righteous code.
The Russians may torture our spies, but in Donovan's eyes, a moral victory (where we show their spies respect, and give them a fair trial), will ultimately result in an influential victory. When there's no war on the battlefield, the war is waged with minds and influence. In the same vein, I think it's important to step back from a bipolar view of foreign politics and make sure that we're fighting a corrupt ideal and its practitioners, not their neighbors with the same skin color.
Screen Junkies, in their Honest Trailer, called this the nominee no one saw, which is both true and a terrible shame. Behind the award bait of a 50's period piece lies an extraordinary lead performance by Saoirse (pronounced Sur-shuh, you're welcome) Ronan, a breakout turn by Emory Cohen, a tender Nick Hornby screenplay, and simple, yet poignant direction by John Crowley.
The period elements are gorgeous, and it's always a delight to, in a way, time-travel to a long-gone era. I'm a sucker for an emerald bikini and a greaser haircut, is what I'm getting at.
American movies about immigrants often use their characters to highlight the scourge of urban decay, our country's superiority, or the ignorance of another culture.
Brooklyn keeps the focus where it belongs, on Ronan's Ellis: her dinners at the boarding house, the budding romance with Tony (Cohen), her strained relationship with family. She's not an innocent nor weak-willed. She's intelligent, funny, and determined, but the movie's not afraid to show her bitterness.
It's in the details where we see Ellis come of age and into her own, in her poise, the waning accent, her willingness to not only open up, but enjoy it. I think, as a viewer, when you open up to her story, you'll enjoy it too.
Spotlight explores the loss of innocence, not just in its subject matter, but also in its structure. When the Boston Globe's Spotlight team finds out the amount of pedophile priests in the city are more in the ballpark of 90 than 13, we're blindsided along with them. At that point, we and the reporters don't know who to trust, and where the rabbit hole of cover-ups and sin ends.
Mark Ruffalo and Rachel McAdams' characters talk about how the investigation makes it difficult to go to church, talk about it with their families. They struggle with the ideals of religion given what their leaders are doing behind closed doors, even questioning if those teachings retain their worth. If even rapists can pray and receive forgiveness, is this a god we wish to follow? I know these two things are separate, but corruption can lead to crises of faith like this.
It's important that these reporters are from Boston. They're just as entrenched into the community, into Catholicism, as everyone else. Marty Baron (Liev Schreiber) notes that sometimes, an outsider is needed to uproot and expose the evils of a neighborhood, and in doing so, brings up a parallel for what journalism should do. It should be a private entity, separate from corporate, political, or communal influence, and serve as an objective (as much as possible) observer and watchdog.
The movie, just like the real investigation, does its research, and brings up what a scandal like this can say about journalism, religion, and sociology. It's thought-provoking material like Spotlight that catalyzes action and a change of mind. It's won the Critics' Choice Award and AFI award for Best Picture, so there's a good chance for it taking the prize at the Oscars.
They don't make 'em like they used to.
As someone who just finished watching the Mad Max series for the first time thirty minutes ago, I have this to say: it's a punk rocker's Lawrence of Arabia.
Director George Miller marries the spirit of the '50s and '60s epics with a modern-day look, and in doing so, crafts one of the best action films of the past twenty years. We're thrust into Max (Tom Hardy) and Furiosa's (a badass-to-the-bone Charlize Theron) world. Cars flip; sparks and bullets whiz by the camera; a pale War Boy with a sharp-toothed grin plays a double-necked, flame-spitting guitar; and when Nux (Nicholas Hoult) screams "Witness!" I find it impossible not to scream it back. The movie starts and I think it takes literally 25 minutes to get any hint of silence.
Miller has never been afraid to push what his audience can handle, and it's tough to witness some of the death that occurs here. But that's the point: death matters. Amidst the technicolor balls of fire and spike-laden dune buggies, we know who dies. We know who they are, what they stand for, and what the ultimately give their lives to defend or pursue.
Fury Road is what should happen when a filmmaker's inner 13-year-old writes a story: a tale of sound and fury, signifying revolution.
4) The Big ShortThis was the scariest movie of the year.
After watching the breakdown of how the 2008 recession occurred, the level of greed in Wall Street and the government that facilitated this economic meltdown terrified me (there's some blame to place on homeowners who got into mortgages they couldn't afford, but the film doesn't really address this). It made me talk to my accountant father, on how to be prepared for something crazy happening in the future.
Also, the film's hilarious (Insert the Starburst narrator here).
Adam McKay directs the film half like an Office-style mockumentary and half like a heist film, if the heist were legal. We know that people who scoff at these bankers are oblivious, and we're ready to see the whole thing blow up in their faces. They're absolutely clueless, and to watch Michael Baum (Steve Carell) about to blow a gasket in a casino, or watch Michael Burry (Christian Bale) slyly retort to an infuriated idiot of a hedge fund manager is pure glory. Also, I'm pretty sure I want "I'm jacked to the tits!" to be my new text message tone.
We think we're ready for the bomb to drop, like John Magaro and Finn Wittrock's characters are, but the film sobers up hard, never forgetting that despite all the numbers, at the end of the day, we're talking about jobs, pensions, savings; we're talking about people. The Big Short has been compared to All the Presidents' Men, and I wouldn't be surprised if history places it in that category. With a Best Picture win from the Producers' Guild of America (who have predicted eight out of the past ten Best Picture winners), I wouldn't be surprised if the Academy swings the same way.
This is the nominee I could watch every day, and it's two hours and twenty-one minutes long. You know what's even weirder? I think most people would agree.
I attribute this to a combination of Drew Goddard's screenplay, Pietro Scalia's editing, and Ridley Scott's direction. The movie never drags - the time on Earth is just as, if not sometimes more, intriguing than that on Mars. My favorite scenes feature the team at NASA hashing out a plan, whether it be to revive an old probe or to figure out how Mark Watney's (Matt Damon) going to fly out of Mars' orbit.
The important thing isn't what's going to happen, but how. The Martian resembles Gravity and Interstellar from years prior, but what separates it, and ultimately makes it better, is the attitude. There's no time to float aimlessly or spend seven years in an hour; there's work to do, a problem to solve. And if you solve enough problems, you get to come home... probably with a hatred of potatoes.
2) The RevenantIt's likely you'll see this pop up again in January, when I talk about 2016's best, so I'll be brief.
Why is DiCaprio getting so much shit?
I've heard his performance criticized as just a series of grunts; belittled for its sparse dialogue; deemed the product of a Method actor trying too hard - "effort over performance," as one writer put it.
In this film, DiCaprio relies not on charm nor returns to the safety of a character who's a socially maladjusted elite. The Wolf of Wall Street and Django Unchained fit into the latter category, performances people point to as more worthy of the win. Did anyone complain about the grunts and crawls in the Quaalude scene, or the Method practice of staying in character as DiCaprio broke open his hand on a glass?
I think the backlash is just an Oscar tradition, a way for people to be contrarians and demand different from Hollywood when they really want a formula. The role of Hugh Glass demands physicality, needs silence. Would multiple monologues make sense for a man whose throat is slashed? Would that man be in a position to show off swagger?
The Revenant achieves spiritual enlightenment through physical pain. DiCaprio, through twenty years of experience, has achieved a body of work that rivals actors twice his age. Let the man have his damn Oscar.
(Will it win? With the most nominations of all the nominees, it's the frontrunner; the smart money is to bet on Revenant for Best Picture.)
Room is in my top five of all time. This is as much a shock for me as it may be for you, but there is so much purity, strength, and love in this piece, I won't deny it.
Brie Larson is all but certain to win Best Actress. There was never a doubt for a second that she wasn't Joy Newsome, and that she didn't live solely for Jack (Jacob Tremblay) to have a better life. In a scene where Joy is interviewed, Larson delivers just the right doses of sorrow, anger, and poise, running a gamut of emotion fluidly in a span of two minutes.
I can't forget Tremblay, who adds just the right ticks to make this work - jumping when the phone rings, the indignation in calling his mother a liar, the slow gradient of opening up to people. With such a masterful performance at the ripe age of 9, there's a wealth of excitement in my mind on where his career could go.
Emma Donoghue's screenplay is extraordinary, developed with the patience and detail an award-winner should require. It navigates through the complexities of the situation without dumbing it down or reducing its characters to stereotypes.
It's that rare film that has it all: suspense, wonder, and the most palpable, heart-warming love. With every screening, it gives me a honest appreciation for life and all it has to offer. It probably won't win the Oscar, but it's completely won me over.
Thank you all for reading, I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.
