MAJ's OSCAR PICKS 2022

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VAXXED and BOOSTED

[Life] is meaningless, but it doesn’t have to be empty.

– Death (Christolph Waltz, Rifkin’s Festival)

Did I just start my annual Oscar picks with a quote from Woody Allen’s (Boo! Hiss!) latest film?

Yes, I most certainly did. Tabloids and the #MeToo movement aside, I still hold Allen’s filmmaking in high regard and consider him one of America’s finest directors. Years ago, I once said I’d rather see mediocre Woody than great Michael Bay (you can look him up under big budget action films), and that still holds true. Rifkin’s Festival is by no means a great film. It is a rehash of familiar Allen themes of existential angst, reckoning with one’s mortality, and other light-hearted musings. Still, its concept, cast and entertainment value, for me, surpassed many of the films I’ll be commenting on in a minute.

As we plodded through a second year of the pandemic, with movie theaters opening to sparse crowds (except for MARVEL action films), I couldn’t help but wonder if the lingering shadow of Covid hasn’t left its own mark on my love of movies. I used to impress upon my film students the importance of seeing movies in a theater, not at home or (perish the thought) “edited for television.” Somehow, the ritual of moviegoing: buying the tickets, finding (or now selecting) a seat, the smell of popcorn, lights dimming, larger-than-life screen images – all of these enhanced the otherwise solitary experience of sitting alone (even if you weren’t) with your own thoughts and feelings, enveloped in darkness.

I miss that. Sitting at home with a fire glowing, stretched out on the sofa with a big-screen TV is nice enough, but pressing the “pause” button to go to the bathroom or get a snack kind of disrupts what I’ve come to regard as my “movie experience.” And, in the past two years, watching movies at home has gotten worse. I find that, if I’m not engaged in the story early on, I may just exit the film without seeing it in its entirety. I am guilty of doing that with two of this year’s Best Picture nominees (I’ll reveal them later….or maybe not). One was so pretentious and depressing – and predictable, that I just could not bring myself to invest the next 40 minutes watching it crawl to its inevitable conclusion. The other, described accurately by one critic as “an apocalyptic mess,” left me cold, despite an A-list cast and usually ascerbic (in a good way) director.

So what’s a film historian and unabashed movie buff to do? Though I’m grateful that technology (and a reasonable salary) has allowed me to stay connected to film through multiple streaming services, in other ways, I feel disconnected, out-of-touch, sometimes even old when I think back on what, for me, as been a pretty dismal year in cinema.

Have I reached that saturation point where nothing impresses me, or – worse yet – am I starting to believe that movies just aren’t what they used to be? Is my recent revisiting of Woody Allen and other favorite films a sign that I’m an antiquated cinemaphile unable to relate to contemporary themes, issues and ideas? Why am I no longer swept away, as I once was, with the poetic romance of Out of Africa, the bittersweet quirkiness of Annie Hall, or the violent audacity of Pulp Fiction? Where is this year’s Shape of Water or Do the Right Thing? What have I seen in the last year that is ground-breaking and new? Will I ever again experience the sheer joy that I feel when seeing a great film?

Time will tell, I suspect, as it does for us all.

For now – and before I allow this year’s predictions to get mired in self-indulgent longing for ghosts of movies past - let me confirm that, despite my overall disappointment with this year’s Oscar-nominated offerings, I still enjoyed some that will be recognized in a few weeks and a few that didn’t make the cut. As I close out this year’s Oscar research, I realize that even a diminished at-home experience gave me the necessary glimpse of hope to keep this movie thing going after all.

Indulge me for a moment while I elaborate. In very different ways, The Tender Bar and Nightmare Alley reminded me why I love movies and why – at least for the foreseeable future – I will continue to seek them out via streaming or (soon?) in a real theater. I’ve come to know, not only what kinds (genres) of films speak to me, but why some movies stay with me and others not. I am (shh…) a huge fan of romantic comedies. Yes, the ubiquitous ROM-COM has a special place in my film-going heart. But not all ROM-COM’s are equal, which is why When Harry Met Sally will always prevail for me over, say, 27 Dresses.

Why? Well, regardless of the genre, there are probably three things that draw me to a film, two of which are great writing and an intriguing story (I’ll get to the third in a bit). Notice I said AND, not OR. That’s why the unlikely pairing of Billy Crystal (Harry) and Meg Ryan (Sally), combined with witty banter (and a great Harry Connick, Jr. score), was far superior to the forced “meet cute” premise of 27 Dresses: flat dialogue and no apparent chemistry between the two leads (Katherine Heigl and James Marsden). Ugh.

Beyond ROM-COMS, though, writing and story (re: plot – I am so American) are constants for me in determining a film’s worth, which translates into “Will I watch it again?” For example, despite an intriguing story (you can disagree on this), the meticulous recreation of an historic event, and a great cast, Titanic never really grabbed me because the writing was awful. And not just mediocre. Cringe-worthy awful. I’ve watched it since with the sound turned down so I don’t have to witness powerful scenes get sabotaged by terrible dialogue. In contrast, that same year, Good Will Hunting had an intriguing story (you can’t disagree on this), a great cast AND a clever script. Ditto movies from Dr. Strangelove to The Social Network and anything by Quentin Tarantino. Cinematography and special effects are necessary enhancements to any work in cinema, but a great movie is nothing without an interesting story and good writing.

So, The Tender Bar and Nightmare Alley. In a year marked by several coming of age stories (all set between the late 1960s and mid-1970s, in other words, my youth) – with Belfast and Licorice Pizza among the Best Picture nominees - The Tender Bar just crept in and stole my heart. Based on the best-selling memoir of the same name by J.R. Moehringer and set in 1972, The Tender Bar establishes itself early on with the character’s working class Boston repartee. In an early seen w/young protagonist JR, Uncle Charlie (Ben Affleck), provides this advice:

UNCLE CHARLIE: Two rules: I don’t let you win. If you beat me, you beat me, but I don’t let you win.

YOUNG JR NODS.

UNCLE CHARLIE CONTINUES: That way you get a jump on life. By tasting defeat. You don’t suck at sports but I was watching you out in the yard. You’re not very good at sports and won’t get better so I suggest other activities, to avoid disappointment, tears, above all, delusion. What do you like to do most?

YOUNG JR: Read.

UNCLE CHARLIE: I read. However, I can also play sports. Listen, here’s the thing about the radio. You’re gonna look for your father in the radio. You think your father is in the radio. He is at least on the radio. But he is an asshole who is on the radio. Don’t try to play sports and don’t think your father is going to save you. You’ll do fine. That’s all I have to say. The game is 5 card stud.

Why Ben Affleck was not nominated for an Oscar is beyond me. Though his career has often been eclipsed by tabloid romances (Bennifer, anyone?) and stints in rehab, Affleck is a fine actor and this film may be his best performance yet. Quiet, but with a bit of self-depricating cockiness, Affleck’s Uncle Charlie provides the movie’s balance: his world-weary wisdom gives young JR the fatherly anchor and personal encouragement he so desperately needs. And Affleck also gives the movie its emotional push. You can’t really feel for JR without Uncle Charlie’s unassuming love. It’s genuine and heartfelt.

Nightmare Alley may seem, at first blush, to be on the opposite side of the spectrum from The Tender Bar, but each movie deals with disappointment, deception, and finding one’s purpose in different ways. Steeped in shadows illuminated by golden backlight, oozing the dark, haunting imagery that only film noir can capture, Nightmare Alley explores the depths of human manipulation, lies and reinvention. Director Guillermo Del Toro is known for his affection for “monsters,” and Nightmare will not disappoint those intrigued by his exploration of the human spirit, this time with sinister results.

Though Nightmare Alley is by no means a “feel-good” movie, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the seductive dialogue, the obvious “set-up,” and the interest is seeing how this tale of lies big and small, hidden and exposed, would end. The final, now infamous scene (done in one-take) which SPOILER ALERT shows Bradley Cooper’s Stan Carlisle descend into madness, is testament to how film can illuminate human frailty and the consequences of (self) deception.

What was important to me in both films is the third (probably most important) quality I look for in movies. After good writing and an intriguing story, I want to feel something. It doesn’t have to be good or positive, but I need to experience a movie at some emotional level to conclude that my time watching it was well-spent. Tears can be happy or sad; anger can be cathartic; understanding loneliness, despair or loss can be powerful.

The Tender Bar probably reminded me most of my own working class upbringing (the unlikelihood of me going to college), let alone completing a Ph.D. would have been laughed at by many of my aunts, uncles and cousins), and filled me with a sense of gratitude for those family members (my dad, aunt Helen) whose tender and tough love encouraged me to venture outside my own social milieu and background.

Nightmare Alley filled me with a sense of despair, a kind of sadness for those whose own ambitions are thwarted by self-delusion and doubt. It an eerie, disturbing way, watching the kind of sinister, sometimes evil manipulations of people for personal gain, kind of like some of the people I work with (kidding… mostly), provoked an post-movie conversation about human behavior, lying, and personal gain at the expense of others. I thought about The Tender Bar and Nightmare Alley each for days afterward, always a sign to me that there was more to them than a 2-dimensional celluloid entertainment.

A few of the Oscar-nominated films and performances brought me close to this type of experience, but many kind of left me cold: some with an appreciation for what the film was trying to do; others with a sigh that I’d mostly wasted my time watching. Guess we’ll just have to wait until March 27 to see what AMPAS (Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) thinks of its nominees.

But first, let’s not forget the drama of the Oscars themselves. Last year, because of ongoing pandemic protocols, the Oscars were held simultaneously at two locations (its usual home at the Dolby Theater and outdoors at Union Station in Los Angeles). Unlike other ceremonies (Golden Globes, SAG), which utilized ZOOM, WebEx and other virtual platforms, the Oscars were a “come and participate” only option for winners. This restriction was probably most striking when the Best Actor category was moved to the end of the ceremony, given the anticipation of a Chadwick Boseman win, and the ensuing emotional impact that would elicit for a beloved actor’s last screen performance. When Anthony Hopkins’ name was read (and he was not present), the entire awards show ended with an awkward silence. See what happens when you overthink and try to create a faux climax? Let’s hope there is a better plan in place this year.

For the past three years, the Oscars have not had a “host,” which was not necessarily a bad thing. In the absence of someone like Billy Crystal, who could single-handedly deliver a joke, manage off-stage glitches and move clumsy or graceless acceptance speeches along with nary a pause or misstep, most Oscar hosts (remember David Letterman or Seth MacFarlane?) flopped miserably. So this year, in another lame attempt at relevancy, the wizards who plan the Oscars have come back with not one, but three Oscar hosts: Regina Hall, Amy Schumer, and Wanda Sykes.

WOW. Gender and cultural diversity all wrapped up in one. I’m impressed….not.

My initial question was, how is this going to move an already long ceremony along? A few weeks later, I got my answer: The Oscars are going to announce 8 – yes, 8 – of the awards categories’ winners BEFORE the ceremony and then weave edited versions the winners’ speeches into the ceremony.

Double WOW.

And the rationale for this decision? According to AMPAS President David Rubin, cutting eight awards from the actual broadcast will "provide more time and opportunity for audience entertainment and engagement through comedy, musical numbers, film clip packages and movie tributes." What a crock.

It gets better. Which eight categories will be announced prior to the ceremony? The three “shorts” – Documentary, Animated and Live-Action, plus Editing, Production Design, Makeup and Hairstyling, Sound and Original Score. ABC executives reportedly told AMPAS if these categories were “cut” from the actual ceremony and announced ahead of time, they wouldn’t air the Oscars at all. Was this a “threat”? Whatever ABC decides, though, let’s make sure we have plenty of uninformed Hollywod reporters asking inane questions when celebs walk the Red Carpet. That’s something we really need to maintain.

Can you say STUPID? There you have it. Looks like even the Academy doesn’t know how to celebrate filmmaking, if sound, editing and production design – don’t get me started on the score – have less to do with the film than acting, directing and writing. What AMPAS is really saying is that audiences aren’t familiar with those who actually work to make the film so, rather than give them a much-deserved moment to celebrate their craft, they’ll pander to audiences who don’t give a crap about non-celebrities.

Here's a thought: Why don’t each of the unknown, behind-the-scenes nominees select a celebrity to escort them to the podium if they win? Then, let’s say Joe Schmo wins Best Film Editing, maybe Bradley Cooper or Jennifer Lopez could escort them to the stage and maybe even read their acceptance speech? Good, no? I’d watch.

Finally, two new, fan-favorite categories have been introduced with winners scheduled to be announced at the ceremony: Fan-Favorite Movie and Favorite “Cheer” Moment. WTF is a “cheer” moment? Wait! I get it. It’s like fans cheering when Rocky Balboa beats Apollo Creed or when Anne Archer shoots Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. So this is what we are being reduced to in honoring the best of cinema. Guess the People’s Choice Awards haven’t done enough to degrade the understanding of excellence. Come to think of it, Nightmare Alley may be more uplifting than I thought.

No matter what AMPAS is doing to suggest relevancy, diversity, inclusion – or pandering to the viewers – one question remains. With all these changes, will anyone watch? Have the Oscars, or awards shows in general, gone the way of VHS and cable TV? Is this a turning point for film as art, or cinema as we know it? Streaming has, on the one hand, made movies more accessible to more people and has also created more opportunities for filmmakers to make films. And that’s all good. The downside, of course, is the medium of cinema itself – designed as a larger-than-life art form that raises the human experience to a heightened level may be in jeopardy. Today, we are witnessing more often the only movies released in theaters that score a big box office return are MARVEL comics films or ones with special effects. Hopefully, filmmakers and studios will remember that special effects along do not a great film make. There is much more to explore making movies – technically and otherwise – that merits a big screen.

Enough ranting.

On to the movies…

As in recent years, I’ll embed most of the “oversights” (snubs?) into their respective categories and try to be judicious in my level of whining about, let’s say, the fact that neither Passing was not recognized for Best Picture, despite generally positive reviews, or Bradley Cooper for Best Actor or Supporting Actor in Nightmare Alley and Licorice Pizza, respectively. And what about the aforementioned supporting work of Ben Affleck in The Tender Bar, or Ruth Negga in Passing (not just a snub, an injustice).

Perenniel snubee Ethan Hawke made three films that saw theatrical releases in 2021 (two went almost immediately to streaming; the third was held until this summer for general release), so I can’t really whine about his absence as a nominee this go around. However, my hopes for a fourth installment of Richard Linklater’s iconic “Before” series were dashed several months ago when Linklater, Hawke and co-star/writer Julie Delpy confirmed there would be no fourth installment. Though none have completely nixed a fourth story w/Jesse and Celine, we may not see them again, or unless – somewhere down they road, they make a film like 2012’s Amour, the story of two retired music teachers coping with end of life issues. What would Jesse and Celine be doing in their 70s or 80? Not sure I’m ready for that just yet.

Speaking of couples, there is one interesting piece of trivia this year with Oscars and couples. This year is only the sixth time (and the first since 1964) that married couples are nominated for Oscars: Javier Bardem (Best Actor, Being the Ricardos) and Penelope Cruz (Best Actress, Parallel Mothers) are nominated this year. Past married nominees include Lynn Fontanne and Alfred Lunt (neither won for lead actor/actress in 1932’s The Guardian); Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner (he won Supporting Actor in in 1953 for From Here to Eternity; she lost Best Actress in Mogambo to Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday); Elsa Lanchester and Charles Laughton (neither won as actor or supporting actress for Witness for the Prosecution in 1957); Rex Harrison and Rachel Roberts (neither won for lead roles in Cleopatra and The Sporting Life, respectively in 1963), and Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor (she won Best Actress for Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? in 1966; he as Best Actor for the same film, and never won, despite seven nominations). I’m including this trivia here more as a novelty than as an insightful tidbit, but you can use this info to figure out if that changes your bets.

So here we are, entering a third year of the pandemic (soon to be endemic?), and the Oscars. The long-term effect of this global crisis will no doubt be examined for years to come, not only in terms of the economics of the industry, but also the art of cinema. What to do? For now, keep on watching and hope for the best.

What follows now is my annual assessment of the Oscar nominees, my picks for the winners (and sometimes, my wish for who should win). Putting my predictive accuracy (95%) on the line once again (my Chadwick Boseman “lock” last year took its toll), here goes.

And the envelope, please….

BEST PICTURE

Belfast CODA

Don’t Look Up Drive My Car

Dune King Richard

Licorice Pizza Nightmare Alley

The Power of the Dog West Side Story

For the first time since 2009, when this silly expansion rule began, there are 10 – count ‘em 10 – nominees. Woo Hoo! Maybe not.

If the last few years tell us anything, Golden Globe victories, SAG or BAFTA wins are becoming less and less predictive of Oscar glory. Last year, Nomadland did not nab a SAG nom for Best Ensemble (SAG’s equivalent of Best Picture), but went on to win the Oscar. This year, CODA’s surprise SAG win as Ensemble set Oscar tongue wagging about a potential, but I’m not seeing it. CODA is a lovely film, but probably not popular OR large enough in scope or critical praise, to yield an Oscar win in this category.

Previous trends about the film with the most nominations translates to a Best Picture winner (it happened nine straight years from 1992-2000), have all but dissipated since 2010, with only Best Picture winners from those most nominated in the last 12 years, or since AMPAS expanded the category to up to 10 nominees. Per my remarks about last year’s Mank (the most nominated film w/ten), some of the greatest films ever made did not win Best Picture: Citizen Kane, High Noon, Singin’ in the Rain (no nomination!), Dr. Strangelove, Bonnie & Clyde, The Graduate, Cabaret, Nashville, Pulp Fiction, Fargo, Brokeback Mountain, Do the Right Thing (no nomination!), and BlacKkKlansman.

This data puts the Academy’s selection process into perspective and raises the question about how to define what art is – and whether great art equals “best” with the Oscars. Spike Lee was right when he quipped after Green Book’s 2019 win for Best Picture, “Sometimes the ref gets it wrong.” Indeed. This year’s addition of the fan vote only underscores my point AND suggests that somehow popularity equals excellence, or at least appeals to those who believe that the only thing in film assessment that matters is one’s opinion (re: whether they “liked” it). So much for movies expanding people’s horizons or perspectives.

Maybe I should just invoke Dave Letterman’s 1995 Oscar-hosting mantra, “Oprah. Uma. Uma. Oprah,” when selecting the Best Picture winner. Letterman’s reference to Thurman’s Best Supporting Actress nomination for Pulp Fiction and Oprah Winfrey’s ubiquitous presence at all things Oscar put both of them center-stage and within Letterman’s skewed vision. If we apply Letterman’s choice to this year’s nominees – in most categories – we might just say, “Dog. Dune. Dune. Dog.” That may be more accurate – and time-saving – than evaluating each of this year’s ten nominees. I don’t think Dune will win Best Picture, where the race is likely between Power of the Dog, CODA, and Belfast, but in most other categories, we can toss a coin and say, “Dog? Dune?” I’m using that method on the side, along with Javier Bardem’s iconic phrase – “Call it” - from his Supporting Actor win as the sadistic hitman Anton Chigurh in 2007’s Old Country for Old Men. I’ll let you know if /how this practice works, compared to time invested annual in these predictions.

As regular readers of my annual Oscar picks know, I have bemoaned AMPAS’s decision to expand the number of Best Picture nominees from five to ten so as to be more “inclusive” of the variety of films made (re: a way to insure that really mediocre, big budget films that made lots of money are included, potentially ensuring that Oscar’s TV audience is interested enough to watch). This explains, in part, why a film like 2010’s Toy Story 3 and 2015’s The Martian were included. Yet, in the twelve years since this expansion has been applied to the voting process, none of the biggest grossing movies ever has won Best Picture. So the intention of the expansion has not yet yielded the anticipated result.

This year is no exception. The biggest grossing film of the year: Spider Man – No Way Home was recently identified as the frontrunner about the Fan Favorite Film category, but it’s not nominated for Best Picture. Its sole Oscar nom is for – you guessed it – visual effects. Even Dune, another sweeping saga with cinemascope flair, received TEN nominations, including Best Picture.

No acting noms here – mostly in the production-based categories, but also in Adapted Screenplay. And, while Dune might be classified a Sci-Fi, its theme and storyline are hardly in the same world as MARVEL comics, which may be why box office numbers and fan voting trends favor Spidey.

I’ll offer my thoughts on which film will win in a minute, but let me just say this up front: Of all the Best Picture nominees, the film that is clearly, undeniably a cinematic masterwork is….None? I’ll give you that Belfast is a beautiful film, evocative of late 1960s Ireland, authentic in director Kenneth Branagh’s remembrance of his childhood (and reminiscent of John Boorman’s 1987 film Hope and Glory, about a young boy’s – Boorman’s – coming of age in during the bombing of London in WWII), and brilliantly realized by a stellar group of actors (including Supproting Actress nominee Dame Judi Dench).

Jane Campion’s much praised (and frontrunner, along w/Belfast) Power of the Dog, showcases stunning cinematography, excellent acting (including a terrific breakthrough performance by newcomer Kodi Smit-McPhee), and a compelling (if methodically-told) storyline. Thus, Dog has, arguably, all the components that make a best picture, but I just didn’t like it.

I could not feel anything (not even contempt) for the characters. And the closeted cowboy thing is not revolutionary, at least not to historians. So check off the box for all the right elements of good filmmaking, except the one that matters most to me: I was mostly bored and don’t care if I ever see this Dog again.

The other two “big” pictures – Dune and West Side Story – have not generated much buzz beyond the critics (and Dune’s reviews were mixed). Both films are remakes, and both are made with an eye to 21st century notions of diversity and appropriate cultural/racial representation. Yet, for all the respective deliberations, directors Denis Villeneuve and Stephen Spielberg may have miscalculated whether audiences really care about their efforts. In Villeneuve’s case, mixed reviews and a straight-to-streaming release may have contributed to his omission in the directing category.

Spielberg’s remake of a Hollywood stalwart among movie-musicals, is well-intended for its deliberate inclusivity, and also sweet in that he made it for his father (who passed away @ 103 during production). Actress Rita Moreno, who won a Supporting Actress Oscar for the 1961 film, has commented that, although she is Puerto Rican, she was forced to wear dark during that production, along w/non-Latina Natalie Wood, because there were physical standards associated with people of color. Yet, despite an enthusiastic marketing campaign, early and sustaining critical praise, and Spielberg’s nom for Best Director, the film’s theatrical release fell flat at the box office. It’s too bad: American audiences have been sour on musicals for some time, with few successes (2002’s Chicago and 2016’s La La Land are bright spots) in decades. West Side Story is a beautiful film, a remake arguably better than the original, but not much interest. Too bad.

In truth, this version of West Side Story is probably the one that should have been made over a half-century ago because it clearly delineates racial/cultural differences, immigrants living various versions of the American Dream New York City, and – most of all – how young love conquers all. Yes, it’s Romeo and Juliet for the modern age, but Spielberg is nothing if not a “movie” maker: nothing but a big screen sensibility. Every shot in this film, from the opening aerial shots of New York’s San Juan Hill to the intimate balcony scene that features “Tonight, Tonight” and then the joyous street dance to “America,” West Side Story 2021 is what the musical should have, but couldn’t have been sixty years ago. It’s both a throwback and a revelation. And I loved it, though I need to see it in a movie theater.

Of the remaining Best Picture nominees, Drive My Car has been consistently lauded by film critics. It is also nominated in the Best International Feature category and will likely win (though Italy’s Hand of God is a tough competitor), but unlikely to pull a Parasite and win both International Feature and Picture.

The final five film nominees are fine films, yet only one really seems like Best Picture contender, and I’ll comment on that in a moment. Adam McKay’s much-anticipated Don’t Look Up is one of the films I did not watch until its obvious conclusion. For me, Don’t Look, as I’ve come to refer to it, was a real disappointment from the otherwise ascerbic, satirical imagination of writer/director McKay (think The Big Short or Vice), films that not only boasted snappy dialogue, but memorable performances and an intriguing story. Though Don’t Look utilizes the current climate crisis, reincarnates #45 as a clueless woman (a funny, but not devastatingly so Meryl Streep), and recruits an A-list class of actors to bring his story to life, the result is an uneven and often tedious telling of a story that needed more snap and bite. Though nominated in four categories, including Best Editing, I couldn’t stop thinking about how many ways this film could have been tightened to sharpen its humor.

As I indicated at the beginning of this section, CODA is a heartwarming story about a young woman named Ruby who is the only hearing member in her family. Touting strong performances from Oscar winner Marlee Maitlin (Children of a Lesser God) and Supporting Male Actor SAG winner Troy Kotsur in addition to its Best Ensemble SAG, CODA is definitely worth the time-investment, but not a film I would have bet on to take the top prize. Its biggest drawback is that CODA could have easily been made for TV, and that quality is apparent from start-to-finish. Not in a bad way, just not as a best picture.

But on March 19, eight days before the Oscars, CODA won the Producers Guild Award for Best Picture, so it’s oh, boy – here we go! Will CODA pull a Moonlight with a last-minute surge and win big like 2016’s heartwarming sleeper? Suddenly a late entry as a Best Picture contender, CODA lacks many of the nominations typically associated with Best Picture (Editing, Cinematography, etc., where Moonlight had noms), and it’s hard to know how many Oscar ballots were still to be cast between the March 19 PGA announcement and the March 22 AMPAS voting deadline. Will Troy Kotsur be this year’s Mahershala Ali and the film overtake Dog the way Moonlight crept in and stole Oscar from La La Land five years ago? If that’s the case, let’s make sure that Faye Dunaway does not have the envelope in hand.

Licorce Pizza is a film I liked a lot. The third in this year’s trio of 1970-ish coming-of-age stories, Pizza is less conventional than Belfast or The Tender Bar, more scattered in its plot development, and less certain about its characters or their future. That said, I was captivated by what is truly a breakthrough debut for Cooper Hoffman (the late Philip Seymour Hoffman’s son), and singer/actress Alana Haim. Pizza is another fine entry in director Paul Thomas Anderson’s unusual catalogue of films.

I tend to run hot and cold w/Anderson: Boogie Nights and Magnolia were very different, but equally impressive triumphs, as was There Will Be Blood. The Master left me bored and uninterested, despite strong reviews. But Licorce Pizza offered a new side of Anderson, even if it’s not a ground-breaking treatise on coming of age: not as unusual for its time as Summer of ’42 was back in 1971 (go check that one out, young’uns). It’s also not completely coherent in establishing why these two would-be lovers would connect. Even at the end, we’re left wondering if Alana’s profession of love is genuine or expedient.

To say that Anderson is eclectic would be an understatement (could the same man who made Inherent Vice have also created Phantom Thread?), but here he is arguably at his most heartfelt and charming, giving teenaged Gary’s (Hoffman)pursuit of an older woman (25 year-old photography assistant Alana), life and warmth. Backed by a memorable 1970s soundtrack, Licorce Pizza is as incongruous as its title and very tasty.

If Gary and Alana’s unusual love story - and the weird series of events that eventually SPOILER ALERT bring them together – punctuated by cameo/supporting performances from Sean Penn, Tom Waits, and Bradley Cooper make this film something special, especially Cooper’s over-the-top turn as real life hairdresser-turned producer Jon Peters (some of you may remember him as Barbra Streisand’s partner from 1973-82 – yes, I did need to check the tabloids for the dates), that is equal parts camp and inspiration.

If one of the criteria for a winning supporting role is that the audience remembers it long after the credits role, Cooper (Bradley) accomplished that here…and more. Even so, because it is almost too quirky for mainstream appeal and somewhat limited in scope, I would hesitate to pick Licorice Pizza as this year’s Best Picture. Anderson’s nominations for director and original screenplay may need to suffice. He probably won’t win director, but he has a real chance at the screenplay nod (Hello, Quentin Tarantino!). Fingers crossed.

And finally….Nightmare Alley. Steeped in the atmospheric haze (lots of scenes at night, fog, rain or snow, faces half-lit in shadow, nefarious motives and evil intentions), director Del Toro surrounds his cast and story with all things film noir – and executes it all masterfully. His famous affection for monsters takes on new shapes as forms as Bradley Cooper’s hustler Stan Carlisle descends into a geek of his own making. It is terrifying and compelling cinema, buoyed by themes of lust, lying, greed, and the lure of dominance over others. Nightmare Alley has all the ingredients necessary to be an award-winning Best Picture, except audience interest and critical enthusiasm. The reviews were positive overall – and its recognition among various critics’ circle was strong – but it never seemed to generate the kind of excitement that usually embraces a best picture winner.

Until March 19, it looked like Best Picture would come down to Belfast or Power of the Dog. Both have been cleaning up the major awards and critics circle choices this year. Usually by this time, one or the other has emerged as a clear front runner, but with the Golden Globes split w/Power of the Dog and West Side Story, and the SAG’s recent nod to CODA, it’ll probably come down to the wire. Too, the expected acting sweeps for Actor and Supporting Actor (Benedict Cumberbach and Kodi Smit-McPhee) have not happened. The BAFTA’s and Critics Choice awards went to Will Smith and Troy Kodzur in these two categories, respectively.

For those of you who are big independent film fans, I usually recommend checking out the smaller Best Picture nominees via the Independent Spirit Awards, where past Best Pictures nominees (Pulp Fiction, Fargo, Lost in Translation and Silver Linings Playbook) often find their way to recognition there. But this year, except for The Lost Daughter, which is not nominated for Best Picture, none of the other “little” films like CODA or Licorice Pizza received much attention. Not sure if this is a trend or an anomaly, but there doesn’t seem to be the kind of connection we typically see when the Spirits often recognize movies and performances not awarded an Oscar.

I’ve digressed a bit, but hopefully, in a good way. With respect to the Best Picture award, I’d bet on Power of the Dog, but secretly put some money on Belfast, which is a longshot after the PGA went to CODA.

MAJ’s late picks: The Power of the Dog, but be prepared for a CODA upset

BEST DIRECTOR

Paul Thomas Anderson, Licorice Pizza

Kenneth Branagh, Belfast Jane Campion , The Power of the Dog

Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Drive My Car Steven Spielberg, West Side Story

Of the five nominees, only Ryusuke Hamaguchi is the sole newcomer. The other four have been nominated in this category before and only Steven Spielberg has won (twice: Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan). Anderson and Branagh have an impressive list of nominations in directing, writing, acting (Branagh) and picture: Anderson with eleven and Branagh with eight, but neither has won the golden statuette.

Campion is a previous winner in the Original Screenplay category for 1993’s The Piano. She was also nominated in the directing category that year, but lost to Spielberg for Schindler’s List. If Campion wins in this category, she will be only the third woman to have won Best Director (Kathryn Bigelow for 2009’s The Hurt Locker and last year’s winner Chloe Zhao for Nomadland preceded). Campion’s career has been less celebrated than either the other three previously nominated directors, but Power of the Dog has been her most accessible and critically acclaimed work to date.

I say that as a huge fan of The Piano, where I once argued that it was a better film than Schindler’s List, which dominated the 1994 Oscars. I still hold that, cinematically – acting, story, cinematography – The Piano is superior as a film, which in no way detracts or lessens the power, value or importance of Schindler. But I will say now (having seen all of Campion’s subsequent works), that The Piano did require a certain amount of patience from the viewer. It is slow, as all of her films tend to be, so the pace at which her stories unfold is deliberate and sometimes tedious.

I would say the same thing about Dog except that the inclusion of Benedict Cumberbach (an audience favorite), Kirsten Dunst (in a different and dark role), along with newcomer Kodi Smit-McPhee, raise this movie in terms of appeal and interest. It's not a bad film, just not a favorite of mine.

As of this writing – and with all the major pre-Oscar (BAFTA, Golden Globe, Critics Choice, Directors Guild) awards over – Campion has been a consistent winner. So… unless the stars realign dramatically in the next few days, she is the likely recipient here. Her biggest competition is probably Branagh, as Belfast is Dog’s strongest competition. Licorce Pizza is not big enough in scope for Anderson to win, and Spielberg’s work on West Side Story is probably not enough to overtake Campion at this point (even though I would argue that West Side Story will rank among Spielberg’s best – he really nailed this remake on every level, from casting to choreography to cinematography).

That leaves Hamaguchi, who will likely take home Best International Film as a sort of consolation prize. Drive My Car does not seem to have the universal appeal that Parasite had two years ago and will not likely sweep the awards.

If I were voting in this category, I’d probably cast my ballot for Branagh, as I found Belfast to be a much better, more nuanced film than Dog. But unless we see a surge for Belfast, Branagh will need to keep on making films, as this will not be his year. It’s too bad because Branagh has had a fine film career; ditto Anderson who seems to come up short each time he is nominated. But then, I offer my annual reminder: Stanley Kubrick and Jean Renoir never got a directing Oscar.

Ditto Orson Welles. And no directing nods yet for Spike Lee or Quentin Tarantino. If you’re Paul Thomas Anderson or Kenneth Branagh, a non-win might be the best prize. At any rate, Campion has cleaned up in this category, including the DGA.

MAJ’s pick: Jane Campion, The Power of the Dig

UPSET: Kenneth Branagh, Belfast

BEST ACTOR

Javier Bardem, Being the Ricardos

Benedict Cumberbatch, The Power of the Dog Andrew Garfield, Tick, Tick ... Boom!

Will Smith, King Richard Denzel Washington, The Tragedy of Macbeth

I’m reminding myself of a bold statement in my Oscar picks last year: “If you’re betting on a sure thing and don’t need a big return, Chadwick Boseman may be the only lock this year.” So much for that. The Oscar producers must have thought so, too, as they even re-arranged the order of ceremony to put Best Actor last. See what happens when you fuck with tradition? Best Picture is the award presented last because, well, it is the biggest award of the night – we are celebrating the movies, after all.

In what was clearly an attempt to maximize the emotional impact of Boseman’s early, unexpected and untimely death, Oscar producers must have been wringing their hands after Anthony Hopkins’ surprise upset (and he wasn’t even there!). What might have been a memorable celebration of a beloved actor gone too soon turned in an awkward, almost embarrassing letdown. The show closed with a wimper. No, make that a thud. So much for sure things and certain victories.

I suspect that Best Picture will return to its final spot, unless – or course – ABC opts to put the two new “fan favorite” awards at the end. That would definitely be a letdown in so many ways.

Best Actor is often a strong field with many fine performances ultimately falling short of a nomination. We typically attribute this to the ongoing plethora of options for male actors v. female actors, and certainly more available roles for white actors than actors of color. That said, this year’s five nominees are fine, but nothing to write home about in terms of spectacular or iconic performances for the ages. However, the fact that two nominees are actors of color suggests AMPAS voters may be broadening their horizons.

Of the five, two are previous winners (Bardem as Supporting Actor for No Country for Old Men, Washington has one of each – Supporting Actor and Actor – for Glory and Training Day, respectively, and a total of ten Oscar nominations for acting). I’ve often said that the Best Actor category holds a slot every year for any film Denzel Washington makes, but I mean that as a both a nod to his statue as an artist and also a plea for inclusion of more men of color. Denzel isn’t the only great Black actor, but he has been a safe choice.

This year, Will Smith joins Washington, leaving the category with two nominees of color for only the third time in Oscar history. It’s Smith’s third nomination as Best Actor, and one that has gotten both critical acclaim and awards recognition. His recent wins at the SAG, BAFTA and Critics Choice awards may just give him the momentum to overtake previous forerunner Cumberbatch.

Andrew Garfield, the only first-time nominee here, was remarkable as the late Jonathan Larson in Tick, Tick…Boom! – an innovative biopic that focuses on Larson’s career and creation of the uber-Broadway hit Rent – only to die suddenly before its Broadway debut. Probably better know for his performance as the titular character in Spider-Man (2012 and 2014), and The Social Network (as Facebook co-founder Eduardo Saverin), Garfield demonstrates a depth of range and nuance here, bringing Larson to life without descending into imitation or melodrama. Not sure how widely this film has been seen, but – especially for Broadway/music afficienados – it’s a must-see.

Despite his many nominations, status as a Hollywood icon, and bold undertaking of the title role in Macbeth, I’m doubtful Denzel Washington can surpass Cumberbatch’s streak of wins for Dog or Will Smith’s late surge for King Richard. I’d say the race comes down to Cumberbatch and Smith. Both have been nominated in this category before (Cumberbatch for The Imitation Game and Smith for Ali and The Pursuit of Happyness), and both actors have been equally honored in other media, including TV and music. So this one may come down to timing and momentum.

MAJ’s pick: Will Smith, King Richard

OR Benedict Cumberbatch, The Power of the Dog

NOTE: Last year, in spite of calling Chaswick Boseman’s win a “lock,” I did call the upset: If there is an upset (highly unlikedly), it will be Anthony Hopkins.

Just sayin’.

BEST ACTRESS

Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Olivia Colman, The Lost Daughter Penelope Cruz, Parallel Mothers

Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos Kristen Stewart, Spencer

This category is one of the toughest to call this year. The five actresses who landed Oscar nominations have not received consistent acknowledgement among the awards circuit. Missing, for instance, is Lady Gaga, whose immersive performance as Patrizia Reggiani in House of Gucci depicts her unlikely marriage to Gucci heir Maurizio which ended in divorce and her eventual conviction for arranging his murder. Gaga was an early winner for numerous critics awards and garnered a Best Actress nomination for every major award except the Oscars. Completely opposite of Gaga’s early recognition is Kristen Stewart, loudly pronounced as the best actress by several critics upon release of the harrowing Spencer, a disturbing interpretation of the late Princess Diana’s struggle with bullimea, mental health, and surviving life as a Royal, but curiously absent from many major awards, including SAG and BAFTA. Then she wound up scoring an Oscar nom.

Go figure. The other three nominees have been inconsistent in both nominations and wins. None were nominated for the BAFTA (Gaga was), and Chastain was the surprise recipient of this year’s SAG award. Colman and Kidman have Oscars in this category; Cruz a supporting actress award. There are pros and cons to each nominee, with no clear sense of who will win this year’s Best Actress Oscar. So let’s take a look.

Let me say this up front: I never loved Lucy. Sorry. I know she’s a TV icon and much beloved actress and studio executive (though research shows her role as executive of Desilu productions was not something she sought, but something thrust upon her). I would hardly call Lucy a feminist. Anyway, as a kid, I could never get into her crying and whining, and the manipulative way she always managed to save the day. I was more of a Marlo Thomas/That Girl, Mary Tyler Moore/Mary Richards kind of gal. So the flurry of interest around Being the Ricardos never resonated with me.

That said, casting Nicole Kidman as Lucille Ball as opposed to, say, TV’s Debra Messing, never bothered me, though entertainment news was bustling with commentary when Kidman got the role. Supporters loved the idea; naysayers seemed to have no clue that Kidman is a very fine actress. I’ve loved Kidman for a long time, ever since her breakthrough role in 1989’s Dead Calm, through Moulin Rouge and The Hours (despite the prosthetic nose, her only Oscar win). She did more than a credible job bringing a different side of Lucy to life in this film. Ditto Javier Bardem (also nominated for this film as lead actor) – together they offer a re-interpretation of one of television classic couples.

But despite solid performances, Being the Ricardos never quite gels as a film, which is surprising given writer/director Aaron Sorkin’s usually reliable, sharp scripts and newfound directorial acumen (see last year’s excellent Trial of the Chicago 7). Kidman is left to kind of fill in the blanks with a story that attempts to collapse ten years of television history into one week, and to rely on lots of insider-speak (if you know “table reads” and “blocking” you’ll be good to go), to move the story forward. She gives everything a valiant effort, but the result is disjointed and choppy.

Four of the five nominees have been nominated before, and Kidman, Cruz and Colman are all previous winners (Cruz in a supporting role for 2008’s Vicki, Cristina, Barcelona – yes, another Woody Allen film). The newbie is Kristen Stewart, whose unsettling interpretation of Prince Diana in director Pablo Larrain’s exquisitely unnerving Spencer, a “fable within a true tragedy,” showcases a depth and range of emotion befitting this psychological drama. Unfortunately and despite universally glowing reviews, Spencer never gained an audience, with some exit comments saying audiences “hated” the film.

Well, Spencer is not The Crown. They are two different types of stories told with almost completely opposite perspectives. Like his previous work on another icon, Jacqueline Kennedy, 2016’s Jackie, Chilean director Larrain focuses on the unseen inner turmoil that may have contributed to, in this case, the tragedy of Princess Diana’s life as a member of the royal family. Here, Stewart is brilliant: she embodies Diana without mere imitation – at once shy and retiring, troubled and confused, bold and empowered. This is the performance of the year – but Stewart won’t win, mostly because of AMPAS voters’ inability to understand the film’s premise and execution.

Of the remaining nominees, Colman and Cruz both play mothers in stories that involve questions about motherhood: choices made, regrets revisited, circumstances beyond their control, and the consequences of all these. Although Colman’s performance in The Lost Daughter and writer/director Maggie Gyllenhal’s corresponding accolades, have pushed Cruz’s equally (if not more) compelling performance out of the spotlight, for me, Cruz’s subtle, quiet, moving performance surpasses Colman’s in both depth and emotion. I am also revealing that The Lost Daughter was one of the two films I could not endure until the bitter end.

Admittedly, I’m a fan of Parallel Mothers director Pedro Almodovar and his style of exploring human behavior without pretention. That was part of the problem I had w/Gyllenhal’s direction and script: so much of the way the story unfolded seemed overwhelmingly contrived and affected – its inevitable ending a forgone conclusion – that I couldn’t invest the time to watch. Colman was an early frontrunner for her performance, but that may have changed after failing to nab either the SAG and Critics Choice awards.

Jessica Chastain is a self-admitted Tammy Faye Bakker fan/freak and spent ten years getting The Eyes of Tammy Faye made. Specifically, Chastain hopes to highlight Bakker’s commitment to the LGBTQ community during an era when AIDS became a social, sexual and political plague. But back in 2000, there was a wonderful documentary called, ironically, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, which I saw at the Cedar Lee Theatre in Cleveland Heights, OH. It was a revelation.

Like Chastain’s passion project, the documentary shined a light on Bakker’s altruism and concern for the gay community, especially the ostracization of AIDS patients within society. Like Princess Diana, she called for compassion and understanding for those afflicted with HIV, reaching outside her realm as a conservative fundamentalist Christian. Unfortunately, few are probably familiar with Bakker’s efforts on behalf of AIDS research and toward an understanding for those affected by the disease. Princess Diana had a much more public presence as an advocate for AIDS research, even taking then-young sons William and Henry to hospitals with AIDS victims and encouraging them not to be afraid to touch and hug them.

Though Chastain’s efforts are admirable, there’s really nothing new here that wasn’t explored twenty years ago. Chastain’s performance is borderline camp, but her recent win at the SAG awards may turn the tide in her favor as we move toward the final weeks of Oscar voting. Chastain may also be due for a win. This is her second nomination for Best Actress (the first was for Zero Dark Thirty), and she brings with her a distinguished, if somewhat low-key body of work. Despite making three dozen or so films in the past decade and a half, Chastain has not ever made the kind of Hollywood splash like Kidman or even Gaga.

Speaking of over-the-top performances, there are two omissions/snubs in this category that merit consideration: the aforementioned Lady Gaga in House of Gucci and Jennifer Hudson in Respect. Granted, Respect is a standard, somewhat uninspired biopic, if it were not for Hudson’s luminous performance. If anyone could/should play Aretha Franklin, it’s Jennifer Hudson. No one else could sing Franklin’s signature songs with as much authenticity and passion as Hudson. But then – as I have often said – if I want to hear Aretha Franklin, I can listen to her records or watch her performances. Why make a pedestrian biopic about a musical icon, especially one that sheds virtually no light on Franklin’s life and actually overlooks/excludes significant events that shaped and defined her career?

I said the same thing about Rami Malik’s turn as Queen frontman Freddie Mercury in 2018’s Bohemian Rhapsody for the same reason: standard formulaic biopic AND Malik didn’t even sing the songs (he sort of sang them and then his voice was overdubbed by Mercury’s). Rocketman was a more interesting interpretation of Elton John’s life as it did less to recreate his life than it did to interpret the forces that drove him. But, of course, Taran Edgerton (who portrayed EJ and DID his own singing), never got an Oscar nom. Hudson’s performance was spectacular, but – as the saying goes – it’s hard to get a nomination in a film that didn’t get much…you know, r-e-s-p-e-c-t.

That leaves Lady Gaga’s sometimes in-your-face performance as Patrizia Reggiani Gucci, who in 1995 ordered the execution of her husband Maurizio Gucci (Adam Driver). Gaga showed nowhere near the camp Chastain delivers as Tammy Faye, but the film’s mixed reviews may have hurt Lady G’s chances, despite being nominated for Golden Globe, Critics Choice, SAG, BAFTA and after winning numerous critics circle awards, including the prestigious New York Film Critics. Word on the street is that Stewart stole Gaga and/or Hudson’s place, but no real explanation as to why. AMPAS is a large organization, so it’s hard to believe Stewart had more street-cred among its more than seven thousand members.

Was Gaga overlooked? I dunno. Jared Leto gave an equally stunning performance in a supporting role for the same film and he’s not nominated, either. I suspect it’s more that House of Gucci didn’t wow critics. It’s also possible that Gaga isn’t yet been accepted as an actor, but is seen as more of a singer/performer. Ditto for Hudson, though she does have a supporting Oscar for Dreamgirls. Of course, that was a musical tour de force with little “acting.” In another year, either Gaga or Hudson woulda/shoulda been nominated.

And what about Adam Driver? He gave two fine performances this year, in House of Gucci and the really offbeat “musical” Annette. Where’s his name among the nominees? And why aren’t there any women of color in this category this year? Hudson notwithstanding, were there no other performances worthy of a nomination by women of color? I’ll get to the Supporting Actress nominees shortly, but nothing here?

Sigh. I digress again.

Back to Chastain. She wasn’t nominated for a BAFTA. Joanna Scanlon (who?) won for After Love but wasn’t nominated for an Oscar, so a moot point there. Scanlon may not be known to American audiences, but she’s had a three-decade career in British TV and film. But Chastain did win the Critics’ Choice Award so, together with the SAG, she looks like a formidable bet on Oscar night.

MAJ’s pick: Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

UPSET: Olivia Colman, The Lost Daughter

LONGSHOT (but the performance of year in this group of nominees): Kristen Stewart, Spencer

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Ciaran Hinds, Belfast Troy Kotsur, CODA

Jesse Plemmons, The Power of the Dog J.K. Simmons, Being the Ricardos

Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Power of the Dog

The past few years, this category has been among the most interesting and competitive. This year, meh. Though Kodi Smit-McPhee was an early favorite for his breakout performance in Power of the Dog, fellow Dog colleague Jesse Plemmon’s nomination may take votes away from Smit-McPhee. Ciaran Hinds gives a wonderful, understated (re: unnoticed?) performance in Belfast. And J.K. Simmons is a previous winner in this category for Whiplash. His turn as “I Love Lucy” supporting actor William Frawley is fine enough, but the film just hasn’t generated much energy to yield a win.

That leaves Troy Kotsur, whose work in the heartwarming CODA has been gaining late momentum in the awards circuit, scoring wins at the SAG and Independent Spirit Awards. I’m betting Kotsur’s end of the run sprint will bode well on Oscar night.

MAJ’s pick: Brad Pitt, Once Upon a Time in…Hollywood. Period. No upsets. Just Brad.

Oops! I must have had another daydream from 2020.

MAJ’s 2022 pick: Bradley Cooper, Licorice Pizza

Darn! He didn’t get a nomination – I must be stuck on Bradley(s).

MAJ’s REAL pick: Troy Kotsur, Coda

UPSET: Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Power of the Dog

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Jessie Buckley, The Lost Daughter Ariana DeBose, West Side Story

Judi Dench, Belfast Kirsten Dunst, The Power of the Dog

Aunjanue Ellis, King Richard

The best performance in this category wasn’t even nominated: Ruth Negga in Passing. Though it’s all but a forgone conclusion (though never a “lock”) that Ariana DeBose will take the prize this year, it’s still disappointing that Negga’s powerful, understated performance in an equally overlooked little gem of a film didn’t generate more buzz. Fortunately, Negga did win the Independent Spirit Award for her portrayal of a black woman passing as white and facing the realization that her southern husband might just be a racist. If you have the opportunity to catch Passing on Netflix, check it out. It’s more than worth a look.

Four of the nominees are first-timers to the Oscars. Only Dame Judi Dench is a previous winner here – and her work in Belfast is memorable. She’s the last, impressionable image in the film, and her role as the grandmother more than solidifies the movie’s glimpse into the troubles in Belfast c1968. Dench’s face tells the film’s story, and her longevity as an actor serves the film well. She is a treasure.

Jessie Buckey, Kirsten Dunst, and Aunjanue Ellis are all fine in their respective turns as supportive and supporting “wives/mothers,” though I was particularly drawn to Ellis’ strong portrayal of Brandy Williams, mother of tennis stars Venus and Serena. And Dunst’s sad/redeemed wife in Power of the Dog marks a two decade culmination of fine, diverse work. It’s surprising this is her first visit to Oscar as a nominee.

But it’s Ariana DeBose who has dominated this category all through the awards season. Her fiery, intense, powerful incarnation of Anita, the (now) Black-Latina girlfriend of Bernardo, provides a kind of foil to protagonist Maria in West Side Story. DeBose’s selection is now fairly well chronicled on social media: her confident audition for the role impressed director Spielberg and led to an unlikely friendship with Rita Moreno, who played Anita to Oscar victory in the original 1961 film. DeBose demonstrates versatility as actress, singer and dancer and holds her own place in the film, despite Anita’s role SPOILER ALERT in leading to star-crossed lovers Tony and Maria’s tragic end. It will be interesting to see what DeBose does next.

I will say that I don’t expect the same type of sweet, memorable acceptance speech we saw in this category last year from Yuh-Jung Youn as the distant, but caring grandmother in Minari. Her girlish delight when 2020 Supporting Actor winner Brad Pitt handed her the award, then stepped away (Covid protocol) was spontaneous and genuine. Youn spoke for us all (okay, maybe just me) as she basked in the glow of her Oscar (and Pitt’s gentle smile as she blushed in his presence). Maybe not a feminist moment for some, but Yuan certainly showed a warm and honest reaction to an actor in the presence of celebrity.

MAJ’s pick: Ariana DeBose, West Side Story

UPSET: Kirsten Dunst, The Power of the Dog

I would also add here that, in a critical survey that ranked all the acting performances/nominations, Dunst came in ahead of DeBose. But Will Smith also fell short of a win among this group, too, that would have selected Andrew Garfield (Actor), Kristen Stewart (Actress), Kotsur (S. Actor) and Dunst (S. Actress).

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY

Belfast, written by Kenneth Branagh

Don’t Look Up, screenplay by Adam McKay; story by Adam McKay & David Sirota

King Richard, written by Zach Baylin

Licorice Pizza, written by Paul Thomas Anderson

The Worst Person in the World, written by Eskil Vogt, Joachim Trier

Continuing great news: For the eleventh consecutive year, both original and adapted screenplay categories are very solid, demonstrating yet again (my first criterion): good writing matters. This year, the awards might go to directors who lose the directing trophy but whose script is deemed most worthly of a “consolation prize,” though one wonders how many consolation prizes Quentin Tarantino and Spike Lee need before taking home the Best Director trophy. Anderson and Branagh are rapidly closing in on joining this directorial “snub club.”

For its unabashed homage to adolescent love and modern-day romance, Licorce Pizza is probably the most “original” of the original screenplays, breaking from traditional ROM-COM formulas in both plot and character development, dialogue (no “movie-speak”) and outcome. The more traditional Belfast is the strongest contender, specifically, for its deep, personal look at a family’s struggle in 1968 Ireland, but also in the complexities created within in character. Where Licorice Pizza is sometimes glib, Belfast is rich in interpersonal interaction and powerful in simple language and imagery. The longshot here, but equally compelling in its script and tone, is The Worst Person in the World, a late entry in the Oscar race in limited release, but one that has made critics stand up and take notice for its sheer audacity.

The normally reliable Adam McKay isn’t as sharp in Don’t Look Up as he was in The Big Short or Vice. But those two screenplays were adapted (and McKay won for Short), so maybe left to his own devices, McKay wasn’t able to stay on track. Reviews were mixed on this straight-to-screening entry (which, I would argue, probably helped the film’s accessibility and audience), and this is the film one critic called an “apocalyptic mess” – it is also the second movie I did not watch to conclusion. It did, nonetheless, win the WGA.

Unlike some of his earlier, more subtle satires, McKay here ventures into some heavy-handed territory which, for me, took away the bite and sting of his subject (global warming and the impending apocalypse). I’m actually surprised it landed a nomination except for its popularity on Netflix, which might not have happened had there only been a theatrical release.

King Richard is a fairly standard biopic w/little snappy or memorable dialogue. It’s a solid, if pedestrian effort. And The Worst Person in the World may be too small and too little seen film coming with a later release to be competitive, though it is a strong, edgy entry.

MAJ’s pick: Paul Thomas Anderson, Licorice Pizza

UPSET: Adam McKay, Don’t Look Up

LONGSHOT: Eskil Vogt and Joachim Trier, The Worst Person in the World

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY

CODA, screenplay by Siân Heder

Drive My Car, screenplay by Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Takamasa Oe

Dune, screenplay by Jon Spaihts and Denis Villeneuve and Eric Roth

The Lost Daughter, written by Maggie Gyllenhaal

The Power of the Dog, written by Jane Campion

The last three years, the Adapted Screenplay was a mirror of Best Picture, and this year’s adapted competition will probably come down to two: Maggie Gyllenhaal and Jane Campion (this year’s Writers Guild Award winner?). The Lost Daughter is not nominated for Best Picture, so Campion may have a leg up.

Of course, CODA’s recent “surge” in the Best Supporting Actor and Picture (PGA) categories, might spell a win. I would still argue that Gyllenhal might have more AMPAS-wide support than Heder. We’ll see.

Like last year, we are seeing more women in this category – Yay! And, perhaps in light of ground-breaking films like Moonlight, Parasite, Call Me By Your Name and BlacKkKlansman, more diversity in storytelling. First-time nominees Heder and Hamaguchi/Oe have clearly added to the range of topics, from exploring deaf culture to pairing generational opposites, so let’s hope we continue to see more from them.

Dune’s collaborative effort is admirable, but also typical pseudo-intellectual-speak associated with sweeping futurist sagas. Having seven-time Oscar nominee Eric Roth (with one win for Forrest Gump) as part of the writing team is as asset, but not sure it will translate to an Oscar victory. I’m anticipating a real showdown between the two remaining female nominees.

Unless the molecules change significantly (and they might), I’d give Maggie Gyllenhaal (who won the Independent Spirit awards in this category, along w/Best Director and Best Picture), a slight edge over Jane Campion, mostly because Campion is likely to take the Best Director award for Power of the Dog. Overall, those, the winner will come down to the wire, with a clear victor almost too close to call.

MAJ’s pick: Maggie Gyllenhaal, The Lost Daughter OR Siân Heder, CODA

UPSET: Jane Campion, Power of the Dog

LONGSHOT: Ryusuke Hamaguchi and Takamasa Oe, Drive My Car

ORIGINAL SONG

“Be Alive” — music and lyrics by DIXSON and Beyoncé Knowles-Carter (King Richard) “Dos Oruguitas” — music and lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Encanto) “Down to Joy” — music and lyrics by Van Morrison (Belfast) “No Time to Die” — music and lyrics by Billie Eilish and Finneas O’Connell (No Time to Die) “Somehow You Do” — music and lyrics by Diane Warren (Four Good Days)

To reiterate my annual rant (and not to put too fine a point on it yet again): This category’s been fucked up for years and continues to be! Period. Except for 2019’s “Shallow,” a megahit AND a near-perfect metaphor for Bradley Cooper’s remake of fame, addition, and envy between a rising star and her lover/mentor, not many recent winners have a meaningful connection to the film’s theme, characters or story.

What should be an award for a song that best fits the mood and theme of a movie, Best Original Song has become synonymous with which nominated song ha been the biggest Top 40 hit. Screw its relationship to the film, and bring on the recording industry for another pat on the back.

This year, the nominees again provide the rare opportunity for Oscar to award what the category intended, and also meet the unspoken standard of creating a memorable song. In truth, all the nominated songs this year, save “Dos Oruguitas,” were written to showcase the film, not written as an integral part of the story.

With the sixth nomination for a James Bond Film (two previous recent wins: “Skyfall” and “Spectre”), Billie Eilish enters comfortable territory as an up and coming artist (Adele and Sam Smith were the other two), co-writing a sexy song for 007. We also have the ernest contribution from second-time nominee Lin-Manuel Miranda (but why wasn’t “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” nominated?), and a first from classic rocker Van Morrison and, finally, the juggernaut known as Mrs. Carter, Beyonce Knowles.

Then – again, here is perennial nominee (this is her thirteenth!!) Diane Warren. Might she be a victorious candidate this year? I’m including my recent assessment of Warren’s career and impressive list of original song nominations:

Arguably, her first two noms were strongest – the joyous “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” from the undistinguished rom-com ‘Mannequin’ or “Because You Loved Me” from an even sappier rom-dram ‘Up Close and Personal’ (cloyinging sung by Celine Dion), but I’d hoped a few years ago that her collaboration w/Lady Gaga “’Til It Happens to You” from the 2015 documentary The Hunting Ground would yield a win. It did not. Four noms later, Diane seemed destined to try again. She’s already in the Songwriters Hall of Fame, so how about an Oscar already?

I’m not optimistic about Warren winning, mostly because no one (well, almost) has seen Four Good Days, and “Somehow You Do” is not exactly burning up the Billboard charts the way some of her previously nominated songs have done. Without a popular movie or a stand-along hit, not to mention that Warren is not exactly a household name like some of her fellow nominees, I’m doubtful that #13 will be a charm.

Beyonce has it all this year. It’s her first nomination, and she may gain some additional lift from the film, King Richard, and Will Smith’s momentum in the Best Actor category. Plus, she’s Beyonce. Wouldn’t her presence and acceptance speech on Oscar night draw more viewers? We might same the same about Eillish, except her fans probably aren’t Oscar viewers.

Eillish, though, has taken more awards this season than Queen Bey, so despite her undisputable status as a megastar, Beyonce may not (yet) join the ranks of Bruce Springsteen, Elton John or Lady Gaga. Like Adapted Screenplay, Original Song boasts two strong women running toe-to-toe.

MAJ’s pick: Billie Eillish, “No Time To Die” OR Beyonce, “Be Alive” from King Richard

UPSET: Lin-Manuel Miranda, “Dos Oruguitas” from Encanto

PERSISTENCE AWARD: Diane Warren – can we just give her a lifetime achievement Oscar already?

Let’s start a “Go Fund Me” page for Diane Warren and collect enough money to buy her an Oscar.

ORIGINAL SCORE

Don’t Look Up, Nicholas Britell

Dune, Hans Zimmer Encanto, Germaine Franco

Parallel Mothers, Alberto Iglesias The Power of the Dog, Jonny Greenwood

In a curious group of nominees, Oscar mainstay and 12-time nominee Hans Zimmer (with one win for 1995’s The Lion King) is favored to win for Dune, though he may have competition from Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood (his second nomination – the first for Paul Thomas Anderson’s Phantom Thread).

Two of the remaining nominees have been here before: American composer Nicholas Britell has a third nomination and Spanish composer Alberto Iglesias is celebrating his fourth. The only newcomer, Germane Franco, is also distinctive in that we don’t see too many women nominated in this category. Though Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote the songs for Encanto, it’s Franco’s score that gives the film its buoyancy. Not sure, though, that she will be able to overcome what is formidable music competition.

If Power of the Dog sweeps, it will be Greenwood’s Oscar to lose. Zimmer is more of a sentimental favorite, and Dune may have more traction in the technical (sound, visual effects, score) categories. The award may come down to Zimmer’s more traditional epic score and Greenwood’s funkier, edgier foundation that gives Power of the Dog its moody atmosphere.

MAJ’s pick: Hans Zimmer, Dune

OR Jonny Greenwood, Power of the Dog

And now for the less sexy Oscars: no one will care who wins or whether they bring a famous date. Hell, no one will probably care since most of them have been cut from the actual broadcast. Too bad. It’s always fun to see those who actually “make/create” what we see on film. But that’s no longer considered an integral part of Oscar night. Sigh.

Here are the “other” Oscar predictions…..

CINEMATOGRAPHY

Dune, Greig Fraser

Nightmare Alley, Dan Laustsen The Power of the Dog, Ari Wegner

The Tragedy of Macbeth, Bruno Delbonnel West Side Story, Janusz Kaminski

Cinematography is often tied to Best Picture. If that holds true this year, then Ari Wegner’s work in Power of the Dog will likely prevail. But don’t count out Greig Fraser for Dune. Since both films have double-digit nominations, it’s likely that Dog will take the acting/writing/directing nods, and Dune the more technical ones. Each film offers a different take on big, majestic pictures, as Dune projects a vast, majestic universe – weaving dangerous politics and religion into a narrative that centers on Timothee Chamalmet’s messianic Paul Atreides. Dog creates more of a time/space backdrop for the very personal, intimate story.

If I were voting in this category, I’d pick either Dan Laustsen, whose sepia-toned lighting and eerie tunnels bring the “nightmare” to life and suggest a creepy, foreboding with every “alley/tunnel” the characters enter, or Janusz Kaminski’s aerial spinning that gives West Side Story its breadth and soul. In particular, the filming of classic dance scenes, originally choreographed for the stage, showcased Kaminski’s deft hand capturing the scope and power of dance as metaphor for diversity, conflict, empowerment and love.

Bruno Delbonnel’s work is more detailed and nuanced, giving The Tragedy of Macbeth a modern look, using black and white film to emphasize light, shadows and movement. The result is stunning, if austere.

MAJ’s pick: Greg Fraser, Dune (the film appears to be a favorite here)

If not, then… Ari Wegner, Power of the Dog

FILM EDITING

Don’t Look Up, Hank Corwin

Dune, Joe Walker King Richard, Pamela Martin

The Power of the Dog, Peter Sciberras Tick, Tick … Boom! Myron Kerstein and Andrew Weisblum

Even more than cinematography, film editing most closely mirrors the Best Picture award, but again this year tradition may not prevail since Dune has been widely recognized for excellence in this category. Three-time nominee Joe Walker should be rewarded for his ability to mix the film’s complex themes of religion and politics with the more personal story of Timothee Chalamet’s rise to power.

I liked Kerstein and Weisblum’s on Tick, Tick…Boom! For their syncopated work conveying the sometimes choppy, incongruent rhythm that defined genius composer Jonathan Larson’s story. A less deft hand might have made an already fragmented story harder to understand, but director Miranda found the beat in Larson’s life and worked in sync with Kerstein and Weisblum’s sharp scissors. Similarly, Hank Corwin took what one critic called the “apocalyptic absurdity” of Adam McKay’s script and turned Don’t Look Up into a jazzy improvisation not unlike the work of the film’s A-list cast.

Like Walker, this is Corwin’s third nomination. Arguably less of a competitor is Pamela Martin’s work on the biopic King Richard, mostly because (for me) the look of the film was more like TV and less like film.

That leaves Walker’s strongest competitor: Peter Sciberras, who clever editing built the escalating tension necessary to underscore the overwhelming sense of repression (and, Benedict Cumberbatch’s case, sadism) that permeates each character and dominates the story of family in 1920 Montana. An editor can make or break what the director is trying to capture: a second too long or too little can make a huge difference in how the movie is viewed and what emotions are evoked.

MAJ’s pick: Joe Walker, Dune

OR: Peter Sciberras, Power of the Dog

PRODUCTION DESIGN

Dune, Production Designer: Patrice Vermette; Set Decorator: Zsuzsanna Sipos

Nightmare Alley, Production Designer: Tamara Deverell; Set Decorator: Shane Vieau

The Power of the Dog, Production Designer: Grant Major; Set Decorator: Amber Richards

The Tragedy of Macbeth, Production Designer: Stefan Dechant; Set Decorator: Nancy Haigh

West Side Story, Production Designer: Adam Stockhausen; Set Decorator: Rena DeAngelo

The Academy loves seeing a good European (re: British) period piece or an epic futuristic world, in which case Cyrano’s colorful layers of clothing or Dune’s sci-fi thriller would be duking it out. Dune won the BAFTA and Cyrano won the Critics’ Choice. Talk amongst yourselves.

MAJ’s pick: Patrice Vermette and Zsuzanna Sipos, Dune

UPSET: Grant Major and Amber Richards, Power of the Dog

COSTUME

Cruella, Jenny Beavan

Cyrano, Massimo Cantini Parrini and Jacqueline Durran Dune, Jacqueline West and Robert Morgan

Nightmare Alley, Luis Sequeira West Side Story, Costume Designer: Paul Tazewell

This award usually goes to a period (historical) piece, so depending on your definition of “period” – either all or almost none of the films fill that bill this year. If the Academy takes this category quite literally and traditionally, then Cyrano or Macbeth would take home the gold. But I’m going with a different type of film this year: Cruella. Two-time Oscar winner (for Mad Max: Fury Road and A Room With View – yes, you read that correctly), Jenny Beavan who may just have delivered her most flamboyant effort yet (her ability to transform credibly Emma Stone’s wardrobe from troubled teen to vindictive adult and then to suggest that Stone will eventually morph into Glenn Close (from the 1996 live-action version) is sheer genius. And oh, that red dress!

But don’t count out Jacqueline West and Robert Morgan who deviate from the usual “sci-fi meets Socrates” approach to futurist costume design. Instead, Dune projects a look that might be more appropriately called “modern-medieval,” for its stylistic fusion that takes elements of nomadic tribes, Ancient Greece and Goya. The gauzy capes and robes evoke a dualism that suggests both camouflage and romance. West/Morgan underscore the film’s thematic intricacies, adding another layer of complexity and nuance to Dune’s look.

And then there’s West Side Story, a brilliantly realized modernization of two classics: Romeo and Juliet and the original 1961 musical. Paul Tazewell uses fabric and color to distinguish between the “Jets” and the “Sharks” – with the Causcasian Jets clad in denim (think Marlon Brando or James Dean), and the Puerto Rican Sharks sporting the colorful florals we might associate w/Latinx culture c1957. With numerous (sometimes busy) dance sequences, color and movement must compliment each other, and here they do to marvelous effect. Ariana DeBose’s beautiful yellow dress w/red crinoline on full display is a standout.

The most traditional entry is probably Cyrano, an exquisite period piece modernized through music and expressed in layers of fluid fabrics. Not to be overlooked is the subtle, 1940’s styled clothing in Nightmare Alley. In addition to Cate Blanchett’s slinky silk gowns and Rooney Mara’s demure dresses, take a close look at how clothing defines character development: Bradley Cooper’s slick hustler Stan Carlisle wears ill-fitting suits made of cheap, course fabric at the beginning of the story. As he moves into the inner circles of weath and society, his suits are beautifully designed and tailored, making Stan more stylish and sexy, foreshadowing the dramatic demise that is to come.

MAJ’s pick: Jenny Beavan, Cruella

UPSET: Jacqueline West and Robert Morgan, Dune

LONGSHOT: Paul Tazewell, West Side Story

MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING

Coming 2 America, Mike Marino, Stacey Morris and Carla Farmer

Cruella, Nadia Stacey, Naomi Donne and Julia Vernon

Dune, Donald Mowat, Love Larson and Eva von Bahr

The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Linda Dowds, Stephanie Ingram and Justin Raleigh

House of Gucci, Göran Lundström, Anna Carin Lock and Frederic Aspiras

Holy cow! For several years, this category could not even come up with five nominees, and then – for the fourth year running – it’s filled. This year, the big question is whether prosthetics or just plain ole cosmetics will prevail. Three of the nominees boast clever, sometimes grotesque use of prosthetics to transform characters: Jared Leto, who is unrecognizable as Paolo in House of Gucci, Stellan Skaarsgard, whose transformation is reminiscent of a post-apocalytic Marlon Brando in Dune, and Jessica Chastain, who claimed the prosthetics and makeup needed to turn her into Tammy Faye Baker almost ruined her skin. What an actor will do for their art! Chastain’s nomination as Best Actess probably gives the team from Tammy Faye a bit of a boost.

But don’t ignore the teams from Coming 2 America and Cruella, whose artful use of color and design work to great effect expressing age, era and even mental stability. Unfortunately, “Makeup and Hairstyling” is often not given for subtlty or understatement. Still, I’m hoping cosmetic creativity rather than cartoonish realism will be recognized, but momentum from the BAFTA’s and Critics’ Choice seems to be elsewhere.

MAJ’s pick: The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Possible Contender: Cruella

If Dune sweeps: Dune

SOUND

Belfast, Denise Yarde, Simon Chase, James Mather and Niv Adiri

Dune, Mac Ruth, Mark Mangini, Theo Green, Doug Hemphill and Ron Bartlett

No Time to Die, Simon Hayes, Oliver Tarney, James Harrison, Paul Massey and Mark Taylor

The Power of the Dog, Richard Flynn, Robert Mackenzie and Tara Webb

West Side Story, Tod A. Maitland, Gary Rydstrom, Brian Chumney, Andy Nelson and Shawn Murph

Since my annual explanations about the difference between sound “editing” and sound “mixing” are no longer needed, I’m left with a “use your ears” approach to this category. In short, you can really tell when sound is making a difference if you use your aural skills wisely. One suggestion: close your eyes and listen – best sound nominees utilize aspect – from music to special effects to even silence – to capture and add an effective dimension to film. This year’s nominees again all had the kind of sound quality that is distinctive and powerful – such that, even if you’re not paying attention to the sound, you really do notice it because it impacts the overall experience of watching the film.

Sound typically favors two film genres: musicals and action adventure, and we have both here, with the sole exception being Belfast. Power of the Dog may not be categorized as an action film, but it is a big, sprawling (if unconventional) western. Last year’s winner, Sound of Metal, broke with tradition for its creative use of sound in a film about one man’s entry into silence. But I don’t see Belfast or Dog overtaking what one critic called Dune’s “sonic power and complexity.”

MAJ’s pick: Dune

CONTENDER: Any of the other nominees could upset, but I’m going to stick w/Becker and Company for this one.

VISUAL EFFECTS

Dune, Paul Lambert, Tristan Myles, Brian Connor and Gerd Nefzer

Free Guy, Swen Gillberg, Bryan Grill, Nikos Kalaitzidis and Dan Sudick

No Time to Die, Charlie Noble, Joel Green, Jonathan Fawkner and Chris Corbould

Shang-Chi & Legend of 10 Rings, Christopher Townsend, Joe Farrell, Sean Noel Walker and Dan Oliver

Spider-Man: No Way Home, Kelly Port, Chris Waegner, Scott Edelstein and Dan Sudick

Many people equate this award with a summer blockbuster and, if that theory holds, then Spider-Man would be the expected winner. But recent winners have been fall or holiday releases, with several also receiving Best Picture nods (think Life of Pi, Hugo,or Gravity). This year, Dune is the only nominee up for best picture, and it also happens to be the predicted frontrunner.

Like last year’s Love and Monsters, another dark horse has emerged this year: Free Guy. Ryan Reynolds’ action comedy seems like an unlikely entry, but the visual effects team does a remarkable (and deliberate) job of using technology to blur the line between what’s real and what isn’t. As Reynolds’ character fights his way out of a video game and into his own self-created universe, we get to consider who’s the player and who’s the non-player. It’s a clever integration of video, DG tech and stylized action.

Of course, there’s always Bond. James Bond. And No Time To Die is chock full of the kind of daring espionage we associate w/007. As I said last year, innovative use of technology is now a key factor in selecting the winner, as many of the voters will make their decision around the use of high-level CG facial replacements and VFX shots (how many, how effectively used, etc.). Still too techy for me, but I suspect Dune’s majestic sci-fi sets and futurist techno feel will prevail, and it did win the BAFTA and Critics Choice awards.

MAJ’s pick: Dune

UPSET: No Time to Die

LONGSHOT: Free Guy

INTERNATIONAL FEATURE FILM

Drive My Car (Japan)

Flee (Denmark) Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom (Bhutan)

The Hand of God (Italy) The Worst Person in the World (Norway)

I haven’t seen all of the nominated films via streaming, so I’m speculating again a bit based on reviews…. Per my limited viewing – Drive My Car – and critics’ assessments, I’m going with what I saw. The film’s director, Ryusuke Hamaguchi , was also nominated in the Best Director category though – as I indicated in the Best Picture/Director categories, I don’t see Hamaguchi pulling a Parasite.

Drive My Car’s biggest competition appears to be Denmark’s entry, Flee, a cutting edge (and edgy animated film). Early on Hand of God got lots of attention among US film critics, but the movie’s stunning reviews didn’t gain any real traction w/audiences. Norway’s The Worst Person in the World has also gotten great, if late, reviews. It’s not yet available on streaming, so difficult to say how many AMPAS voters will actually see it.

Perhaps the biggest issue selecting foreign films is the process, as the nominees are not voted on by the Academy. Individual countries (up to 90) are asked to submit what they think is the best film from their respective country. You can see the predictable consequences – in an effort to be more inclusive and diverse in the “international” nominees, we may not necessary be seeing the “best.”

All that said – and based on Hamaguchi’s director nom and the film’s BAFTA and Critics Choice wins, I’m going with this generational story of and elderly man and the young woman he hires to, you know, “Drive my car.”

MAJ’s pick: Drive My Car

UPSET: Flee

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE

Ascension, Jessica Kingdon, Kira Simon-Kennedy and Nathan Truesdell

Attica, Stanley Nelson and Traci A. Curry

Flee, Jonas Poher Rasmussen, Monica Hellström, Signe Byrge Sorensen and Charlotte De La Gournerie

Summer of Soul, Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson, Joseph Patel, Robert Fyvolent and David Dinerstein

Writing With Fire, Rintu Thomas and Sushmit Ghosh

With its usual collection of important social and political subjects – war, finance, world hunger – Best Documentary feature has some interesting nominees again this year. Last year’s late release – and crowd-pleaser - My Octopus Teacher won the Producers Guild Award and the BAFTA in this category and went on to win the Oscar. If there’s a well-deserved crowd-pleaser this year, it’s rapper Questlove’s homage to 1960’s Harlem Cultural Festival, an event that featured major musical artists (think Stevie Wonder, Mahalia Jackson, Sly and the Family Stone) and last six weeks, but was quickly relegated to pop culture obscurity. Questlove & Co. meticulously restored footage from the festival, not only bringing it back to life but also restoring it to its rightful place in modern American music history and culture.

See? Movies can do more than just “reflect” – they can also provide important social, political and cultural context for people and events that matter. I’m pontificating, just a little (or revisiting one of my film history lectures from the 1990s). Anyway, don’t forget Summer of Soul’s subtitle: “Or Why the Revolution Could Not be Televised” which provides additional meaning to the film’s importance. The same might be said of Attica, a disturbing look at the prison’s 1971 uprising (I can still hear Al Pacino’s Sonny chanting Attica! Attica! in Dog Day Afternoon).

Summer of Soul has competition, though, serious competition from Flee, yes, the same film nominated for Best International Feature. Flee is nominated in three categories, International Feature, Documentary and Animated. It is certainly all three, and – like Soul – has received numerous accolades for its moving look at a refugee survivor (the true story of a Danish academic coming to terms with his past as an Afghan refugee), and all the trials he goes through to stay alive. It’s hard to say if multiple nominations in very different categories will yield a win for Academy voters. You know, is it a foreign film, a doc, or an animated entry? Does one or another genre emerge dominant?

Hard to say, but so is calling a winner, but I’m going w/BAFTA’s soul.

MAJ’s pick: Summer of Soul (…Or, Why the Revolution Wasn’t Televised?)

OR… Flee – the bigger curiosity is whether it will win multiple awards

ANIMATED FEATURE

Encanto, Jared Bush, Byron Howard, Yvett Merino and Clark Spencer

Flee, Jonas Poher Rasmussen, Monica Hellström, Signe Byrge Sørensen and Charlotte De La Gournerie

Luca, Enrico Casarosa and Andrea Warren

The Mitchells vs. the Machines Mike Rianda, Phil Lord, Christopher Miller and Kurt Albrecht

Raya and the Last Dragon, Don Hall, Carlos López Estrada, Osnat Shurer and Peter Del Vecho

Despite strong entries, including Flee and The Mitchells vs. The Machines, Encanto seems like the film to beat. Though Flee won the LA Film Critics award in this category, and Michells took the NY Film Critics honor, Encanto won the Golden Globe AND PGA and has gained additional momentum from the movie’s nominations in Best Song and Best Original Score.

Filmmakers Bush, Howard, Merino and Spencer have used animation to recreate the kind of magical realism that is associated with modern Latinx literature. It is a joyous cultural and film experience, and it won the BAFTA. Mitchells took the Critics’ Choice.

MAJ’s pick: Encanto

UPSET: The Mitchells OR: Flee

DOCUMENTARY / ANIMATED / LIVE ACTION SHORTS

Not having kept up w/the Documentary, Animated or Live-Action (short) categories for the umpteenth time, I’m mostly taking a pass, but I’m always certain one of the nominees will win. It seems pretty clear from various prognosticators that there are frontrunners in each of the categories, and Netflix has emerged a frontrunner with three nominees in Documentary Short.

We shall see..or not. One of these years, I’ll make it to the marathon pre-Oscar showings of all these nominees. BTW, no one has yet (still not?) responded to my annual question: How many of you go to see the “short subjects” when they play as a single bill in theatres?

DOCUMENTARY SHORT

Audible, Matt Ogens and Geoff McLean

Lead Me Home, Pedro Kos and Jon Shenk

The Queen of Basketball, Ben Proudfoot

Three Songs for Benazir, Elizabeth Mirzaei and Gulistan Mirzaei

When We Were Bullies, Jay Rosenblatt

There isn’t a film in this category that’s NOT a contender, though three of them – Lead Me Home (a portrait of homelessness seems to be the frontrunner), The Queen of Basketball (the story of Lucia “Lucy” Harris, the first – and only woman – to be drafted by the NBA, who died January 18 of this year), and Three Songs for Benazir (chronicling a charming young Afghani living in a displaced persons camp in Kabul) are considered the strongest. That’s not to say that Audible won’t benefit from CODA, or that Jay Rosenblatt’s very personal memoir, When We Were Bullies, won’t also move Oscar voters.

MAJ’s Pick: Lead Me Home

OR…. Queen of Basketball or Three Songs for Benazir

ANIMATED SHORT

Affairs of the Art, Joanna Quinn and Les Mills

Bestia, Hugo Covarrubias and Tevo Díaz

Boxballet, Anton Dyakov

Robin Robin, Dan Ojari and Mikey Please

The Windshield Wiper, Alberto Mielgo and Leo Sanchez

Here comes Netflix again, trying for its second consecutive win in this category. And here comes three-time winner in this category, the legendary British animation studio Aardman (yes, I do look some of these things up), going for #4 in the much-praised Robin, Robin. If you know Wallace and Gromit, you know Aardman, and Dan Ojari and Mickey Please have made the first stop-motion musical. Though the other nominees are all fine, the only real competition may come from The Windshield Wiper, a touching contemplation on love that uses computer-generated (CG) characters set against digitally painted backgrounds. Alberto Mielgo reportedly conceived this short animated concept while working on Spider-Man. Not too shabby.

MAJ’s Pick: Robin, Robin

UPSET: The Windshield Wiper

LIVE ACTION SHORT

Ala Kachuu — Take and Run, Maria Brendle and Nadine Lüchinger

The Dress, Tadeusz Lysiak and Maciej Ślesicki

The Long Goodbye, Aneil Karia and Riz Ahmed

On My Mind, Martin Strange-Hansen and Kim Magnusson

Please Hold, K.D. Dávila and Levin Menekse

If the “shorts” are tough categories for Oscar prognosticators to call, Live Action Short is the toughest. This year is no exception, with nominations going to two-time winner/four-time nominee Kim Magnusson and last year’s Best Actor nominee Riz Ahmed (Sound of Metal). Strongest competition for On My Mind (the bittersweet story of a man trying to record a karoke song for his dying wife), and The Long Goodbye (Ahmed executive-produced and stars in a dystopian tale about a British South Asian family abruptly abducted by vigilantes), Please Hold is the only American entry, a“futurist prison satire…about a a wrongful arrest that takes a young man through a Kafkaesque techno hellscape.” I’m in.

The last two L-A shorts, Ala Kachuu,about a forced marriage in Kyrgyzstan, and The Dress, about a Polish maid w/dwarfism (I can’t make this stuff up!), are thought to be “too bleak” for AMPAS voters. Yeah, I get it – dwarfism is bleaker than violent abduction – isn’t it? Not sure if Riz Ahmed’s simultaneously released album or his star-power will increase The Long Goodbye’s chances of winning. Oscar Isaac’s star-turn in last year’s The Letter Room in this category did not yield a victory.

So I’m going to go with the frontrunner…or something lighter.

MAJ’s Pick Please Hold

Maybe…. On My Mind

Or…. The Long Goodbye

Last year’s major upset in the Best Actor category cost me a few points with my Oscar predictions, as did a few other categories, so my 97% accuracy took a bit of hit. I’m still here with 95% on the line, so we’ll see what new trends emerge, what surprises ensue, and who takes home the gold this year.

And the Oscar goes to….

EPILOGUE

Back to Woody.

His notion that life is meaningless, but doesn’t need to be empty keeps coming back to me. It’s similar to Allen’s other optimistic (for him) quote from his 1979 masterpiece, Manhattan, “Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering – and it’s all over much too soon,” but this time the line – delivered with impish cynicsm by Christoph Waltz – seems more of an assessment than a flip throwaway. In effect, there’s no punchline in this case.

But it got me thinking. Maybe because I’m in that time in life where I’m thinking more about what is meaningful to me, what fills me up and provides satisfaction. And I must say that crafting these annual Oscar predictions made the list, and made me pause, especially since I almost didn’t write them this year. I was so unimpressed with many of the Best Picture nominees that I wasn’t sure I’d have much to say, let alone make predictions. I wasn’t sure I cared who won or if I’d even tune in to the ceremony.

Then came an email from a dear friend who, among other things, assumed I must be “hot and heavy” into my Oscar predictions. Truth was, I had barely started, but those words encouraged me to consider maybe I still had something to say. Thirty pages later, you may wish I had found another activity these past few weeks, yet this annual exercise in evaluating movies, culture, my enduring interest in all things cinema – has re-enforced, in part, the things that (here comes Woody again), “make life worth living.”

I must watch Manhattan anew.

There’s something else.

The day after I euphorically completed my draft of these nominations (I always try to finish early so I can tweak predictions, as necessary, and wait for the last few ceremonies’ results to dribble in), actor William Hurt died. At seventy-one. One week before his 72nd birthday. As I was reading the news online, I felt tears. Why was I crying again for someone I never knew?

Sure, Princess Diana’s untimely death in a car accident, Robin Williams’ suicide, Prince’s accidental overdose, Eddie Van Halen’s passing from cancer all had that “gone too soon” feeling. All of them were in the public eye pretty much right up until the end, and there was a fair amount of sentiment/emotion associated with their lives and work.

William Hurt is not someone I would put in this group. A notoriously private individual who told the NYTimes in 1989, “It’s not right that my privacy is invaded to the extent that it is. I’m a very private man, and I have the right to be,” Hurt was not an actor who cultivated public approval or acceptance. In a brilliant acting career that was marred by accusations of abusive behavior and a subsequent stint at the Betty Ford Clinic, Hurt is hardly the poster child for a beloved artist. Yet, his own admission of regret for any pain he might have caused former partners, along with his ability to articulate personal growth, provide a glimpse of and create a context for his life and work.

That’s why, in part, William Hurt holds a high place among my all-time favorite actors (I’ll plan to expand the list in the future), because of the candor, courage and intelligence he brought to every role. My heart

first skipped a beat – and then my eyes did a double take – back in 1981 when he (along with Treat Williams and Elizabeth McGovern) graced the cover of Time magazine with the caption, “A New Breed of Actor.” I’d seen their early film work (Hair, Ordinary People and Altered States), but Hurt’s sexy, sleazy performance in that summer’s sizzling Body Heat sent me in search of information on Double Indemnity, Billy Wilder’s 1944 film noir that served as the inspiration for writer/director Lawrence Kasdan’s erotic 1981 remake (and made stars of Hurt and co-star Kathleen Turner).

I’ve seen both films many times since, but I always come back to Hurt’s nuanced performance. Unlike Fred MacMurray’s ernest dupe, Hurt brought a world-weary cynicsm and smoldering lust to shyster lawyer Ned Racine, giving his inevitable fall from grace a kind of kinky wallop that lingered long after the credits rolled.

And then came The Big Chill, Gorky Park and the exquisite, ground-breaking Kiss of the Spider Woman. Film critic Roger Ebert credited Hurt (as transgender Luis Molina, imprisoned in South America for immoral behavior) for creating “…a character utterly unlike anyone else he has ever played — a frankly theatrical character, exaggerated and mannered — and yet he never seems to be reaching for effects.”

If you’ve never seen Kiss, you missed a real gem. It’s currently unavailable to stream, so I’m hopeful it will be accessible in the future. Almost forty years later, the film – and Hurt’s performance – not only hold up, they seem especially relevant. The thing that struck me initially about this film and Hurt’s interpretation is implicit in Ebert’s assessment: his body movements were fluid, distinct, but never false. Every move, every gesture, evey nuance in his speaking voice was expressed and/or uttered with genuine authenticity, true to the character and the story.

Hurt’s range was also impressive: never allowing himself to be stereotyped as a “leading man,” (even though he clearly was one), he accepted everything from dumb, but handsome news anchors (Broadcast News), to disillusioned psychologist addicts (The Big Chill) to an aging crime boss (A History of Violence), Hurt’s last Oscar-nominated performance in a supporting role.

I could go on about every one of Hurt’s films – I’ve seen almost all of them, many multiple times, but what is most meaningful to me about another actor I never knew (well, “not in the Biblical sense” – another Woodyism), is his role nurturing in my own love of film. When I think back on movies that define a decade, of performances that made me pause and think, of lasting impressions, I keep coming back to William Hurt: his slightly crooked smile that suggested a bit of mischief, his piercing blue eyes that reflected deep, soulful intelligence, a walk that was both jaunty and cocky, and a voice that could be, alternately, soothing or unsettling. So much of my becoming a cinemphile occurred in the late 1970s-early 1980s and was characterized by countless hours sitting in the dark, often with William Hurt. In the days right before VHS, then DVD’s and now streaming, repeated viewing meant going back to the theater again and again. And so I did, each time taking a different guest to talk about their views of each film.

Writing this very personal reflection, I am aware that some of you reading this are probably wondering how I can honor an actor who has been accused – multiple times – of abuse. Recollections from Hurt’s past relationships have surfaced again in the days following his death.

Though I acknowledge the accusations of those who claim that Hurt was violent and abusive, I cannot deny his brilliance as an actor. My relationship with William Hurt took place in darkened movie theaters, with me an ardent admirer of his work. Time and historical evaluation might provide the appropriate understanding of his personal relationships/demons and his professional body of work but, for now, that is not for me to decide.

I can only say thank you, William Hurt, for leaving such such an indelible imprimatur on my cinematic soul. My crush on you was a catalyst to discovering more about film, to considering many things about myself, and to shaping a perspective on the world that embraced new ideas, perspectives and lifestyles. Each time I rewatch one of your films, I am taken back to a moment in time, often a moment of realization, always a reminder of how much your artistry filled and fueled my passion for movies. Your work is done, but not forgotten.You were magnificent. Rest well.

So what was I saying about life being meaningless, but not necessarily empty? I’m not sure I agree w/Woody about the meaningless of life. I’d still like to think that the good work we do, the relationships we build, the molecules we move do not go for naught. Of course, how we navigate the work, the relationships and ourselves probably determines how full a life we experience. For me, I can’t imagine a world without love, without friends, without movies, without music, without good food and wine, without hope.

I’ve written before about my first experience in a movie theater which involved my dearest aunt Helen and a little creature called Jimminy Cricket, whose sweet warbling of “When You Wish Upon a Star” is forever etched in my heart. Lots of Broadway musicals with my parents followed. Then free movie nights @ Oberlin College (Thursdays) where I saw Citizen Kane, Casablanca and The Seventh Seal, among others. Woody and William and Quentin Tarantino and so many others later broadened and stretched my understanding and appreciation of film.

I should probably find a way to connect Woody and Jimminy. I’m sure they are intertwined somehow in my celluloid brain. Stay tuned. In order for that to happen, guess I’ll have to keep watching movies. At home or in a theater, I need that constant replenishing of energy only movies can bring. Life would be empty without them.

And now, in keeping with my fondness for memorable movies lines, and in recognition of last year’s best picture, Nomadland, “I’ll see you down the road”… or, if not there, at the movies.

*******

PS I usually recommend watching the “anti-Oscars” – Independent Spirit Awards (ISA) – which normally take place under a tent on a beach in Malibu the day before the Oscars. This year, ISA was held much earlier than usual (March 6), so all I can recommend is checking out the winners on their website.

I will say that, unfortunately, like many events that begin small and with a bit of sass and rebellion, ISA has gotten more corporate. This year’s awards felt like more of a “formula” for iconoclasm, which seems to fly in the face of what was originally intended. Is nothing irreverent anymore?