The Best Picture Nominees

Ten films are up for best picture this Sunday at the 95th Academy Awards, and for many years I’ve made an effort to see each nomination, though there have been a few exceptions. I didn’t see Black Panther in 2018, The Joker in 2019, and this year I’m not going to see All Quiet on the Western Front or Avatar: The Way of Water, as I’ve heard the former is like watching the first brutal 30 minutes of Saving Private Ryan for an unrelenting 147 minutes, and I feel like I’ve already seen Avatar, as it’s basically like the original from 2009, except with water (or so I’m told).

On the app Letterboxd I mark movies that reach me in a significant way – ones I’d either like to see again or that really moved me or excited me or made me think. Some years are duds: in 2021 only two films I saw rose to that level: The Worst Person in the World and King Richard. By contrast, 2022 was a very good year, with six of the 27 films I’ve watched to date (and I hope to see a few more soon) making the cut for me: The Fabelmans, TÁR, Triangle of Sadness, I Want You Back, Everything Everywhere All at Once, and Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. 

Of these six, the last is my favorite movie of the year. Marcel blew me away. It was funny, touching, impressive looking, thought-provoking, surprising…it was everything I want in a movie. And funnily enough, Jenny Slate – the voice of Marcel – is in two of the other films I loved in 2022: Everything Everywhere All at Once and I Want You Back, the latter a solid romcom on the same plain as two other good ones from recent years: Palm Springs and Long Shot. I would be happy watching any of those three films on a Saturday night.

There are people who love to hate on Steven Spielberg (yeah, Amy Nicholson, I’m talking to you), but I certainly don’t understand where it comes from, aside from maybe jealousy or a sense that Spielberg has gotten enough accolades and it’s time to make room for some others. While I get that sentiment, and I understand that people are upset that Jordan Peele’s Nope didn’t get the recognition it supposedly deserved (I haven’t seen it), The Fabelmans is an excellent movie. It also had what I consider to be among the worst previews I’ve ever seen, offering a series of out-of-context shlock that made the film seem like nothing more than a boy finding himself through his love of filmmaking. Nothing could be further from the truth. The film is about the destruction of a family. That’s its essence, and it tackles it beautifully and with much more heart and nuance than, say, Marriage Story, which I found to be laborious despite its wonderful performances (Scarlett Johansson deserved the Oscar for that one).

Everything, Everywhere All at Once was a great romp – creative, frantic, impressive, funny – except for the hit-you-over-the-head-with-a-message near the film’s climax. Aside from that, this was one of those exhilarating movie-going experiences that I was happy to see in a theater.

I’ve already blogged about TÁR, and I wrote, “…while I may not rush out to watch Todd Field’s TÁR a second time, I can’t stop thinking about it. And really, what more could you ask of a work of art?”  Well, since then I’ve decided that I do want to watch it again, along with Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Add it to the list!

As for Triangle of Sadness, it wasn’t perfect, but it was an entertaining commentary on social class, with a tad less subtlety than Bong Joon-Ho’s 2019 masterpiece, Parasite. Like, no subtlety at all with lots of bodily fluids! But still, it was a fun, suspenseful watch, and I marvel at how smartly Woody Harrelson has managed his career. Who would have thought when he made his Cheers debut in 1985?

Of the six films I loved in 2023, four were nominated for Best Picture, and one was nominated for Best Animated Feature. So which do I hope wins?

For Best Animated Feature, despite how much I love Marcel, it’s not as much an achievement in animation as it is in filmmaking, and I can’t deny the visual triumph of Pinocchio. I also unobjectively support Puss in Boots: The Last Wish since my daughter is listed in the credits!. It also happens to be a good movie. Any one of those three winning would be okay by me, but I wish Marcel had been nominated for Best Picture. It’s that good.

For Best Picture, my favorites are TÁR, The Fabelmans, and Everything Everywhere All at Once. I believe the latter is amazing but moderately flawed, while the first two are just about perfect. Everything Everywhere… is going to win and that’s cool by me, but if I had to choose one I think I’d go with The Fabelmans.

Regardless of the outcomes, 2022 was a damn good year for movies, and I have yet to see Living, Aftersun, White noise, Armageddon Time, Causeway, She Said, Babylon and After Yang. Since winter and spring theatrical releases are historically subpar, I’ll have to spend the next few months catching up on last year’s releases. Here’s hoping 2023 eventually rises to the occasion.

The film TÁR

The best sermons are ones that leave you with something to chew on, something to apply to your life or someone else’s life, to ponder, to wrestle with.  Something more than just a trifle to forget as soon as it ends.  The same applies to film.  And while I may not rush out to watch Todd Field’s TÁR a second time, I can’t stop thinking about it.  And really, what more could you ask of a work of art?

Cate Blanchett inhabits roles like few others, and her portrayal of conductor, composer and author Lydia Tár is no exception, a mesmerizing tour de force, as she employs not only her prodigious acting talents, but also skills she acquired for the role: conducting, piano playing, and speaking German.  Honestly, it’s ridiculous.  As Vogue writer Taylor Antrim concluded in his review of the film, “Just give her the Oscar.”  I couldn’t agree more. 

The film dives deeply into the world of music, and it helps to have some knowledge of the language of music when watching Tár.  My non-musical wife may have enjoyed the journey, but not as much as I did, and I probably didn’t enjoy it as much as my classical musician friends will, all of whom I immediately texted when I finished watching the movie.  It’s not often that the world of classical music is portrayed on film so thoughtfully and thoroughly, and I think they’ll get to experience Tár on an even deeper level than I did.

But at its core, the world of classical performing is like any other business: there is politics, jockeying for position, mind games, personality conflicts, concerns about marketing and money, and wrestling with loyalty, legacy, family, power and control – and it’s these universal qualities that allow the film to be appreciated no matter what expertise you may or may not bring to the table.  That is, as long as you can handle a running time of 158 minute.

But time in film can stretch and contract just like tempo in music can ritard or accelerate (much like Tár describes in the opening scene of the film when she’s interviewed at a public gathering). What’s amazing is how much time Field spends on the slow build of Tár’s journey, as we learn about her musical expertise, her celebrity, her home life with wife Sharon and adopted daughter Petra, her struggles to tune out extraneous sounds that hamper with the more important tasks at hand… and how little time is spent on the earth-shattering changes that occur within the last half an hour of the film.

This is where Field’s expertise really shines, as he tells us just enough to draw our own conclusions, but not so much that he hits us over the head with an unambivalent outcome (the way, say, Everything Everywhere All at Once did last spring, somewhat marring an otherwise excellent movie).  Other deftly-written scenes lack ambiguity but are amazingly efficient at telling us what we need to know with very little.  I won’t spoil anything, but there are two brief scenes – one in a PR firm’s office, and one in Lydia’s childhood home – that both last no more than 30 seconds and illuminate so much about her life without getting bogged down in the details.  Honestly, Field could have made another film – Tár 2, if you will – expanding the last twenty minutes into a 2-hour feature film.  There certainly would have been enough intrigue to coax me back into the theater (and this film must be seen in a theater if you have the opportunity).  Instead, he speeds up the last half an hour of the film, just as composer might for a symphony’s climax. 

As it is, the film leaves me with questions, something I appreciate in a good movie. Why does Tár throw out a book she receives as a gift, a book adorned by an artistic pattern similar to one on a metronome in her home and to one her daughter makes with clay?  I don’t know.  I suspect there’s something I missed.  Is the scream Tár heard in a park really happening or is it in her head?  What exactly is she guilty of, and were the consequences of her actions just or unjust?

I don’t know.  But I can’t wait to ask my friends about it after they see the movie.

Just like a good sermon.