OVP: Best Picture (2015)
The Nominees Were...
Brad Pitt, Dede Gardner, & Jeremy Kleiner, The Big Short
Steven Spielberg, Marc Platt, & Kristie Macosko Krieger, Bridge of Spies
Finola Dwyer & Amanda Posey, Brooklyn
Doug Mitchell & George Miller, Mad Max: Fury Road
Simon Kinberg, Ridley Scott, Michael Schaefer, & Mark Huffam, The Martian
Amon Milchan, Steve Golin, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, Mary Parent, & Keith Redmon, The Revenant
Ed Guiney, Room
Michael Sugar, Steve Golin, Nicole Rocklin, & Blye Pagon Faust, Spotlight
Steven Spielberg, Marc Platt, & Kristie Macosko Krieger, Bridge of Spies
Finola Dwyer & Amanda Posey, Brooklyn
Doug Mitchell & George Miller, Mad Max: Fury Road
Simon Kinberg, Ridley Scott, Michael Schaefer, & Mark Huffam, The Martian
Amon Milchan, Steve Golin, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, Mary Parent, & Keith Redmon, The Revenant
Ed Guiney, Room
Michael Sugar, Steve Golin, Nicole Rocklin, & Blye Pagon Faust, Spotlight
My Thoughts: We are finally finishing off our look at the 2015 movies. While of course there will inevitably be first time viewings of pictures from that year that will be discussed in the future, in terms of our Oscar Viewing Project, we are now complete with this post. On Monday, we'll be investigating a new year, one that based on the work I've already done it should be roughly a 10-week exploration of 2016, but for now I've made you wait long enough-it's time to discuss the eight pictures that the Oscars deemed the most worthy for its highest honor.
We're going to start with the movie I feel like we've discussed the most in this series, Mad Max: Fury Road. Recent viewings have actually made me appreciate Fury Road a bit more, understanding just where the Mad Max universe started and how much it evolved through the years. The film itself is an action-adventure visual smorgasbord, one that doesn't seem to mind its rather routine script because it's so full of a glorious feast for the eyes. I am more a plot person than someone who can be swept up in the grandeur of what's happening on the screen, but I'm not immune, and by-far Fury Road is the movie with the most distinctive palette of these pictures, and likely the movie that will be best-remembered years from now when other people reassess this field.
The movie that might be the least remembered is the sturdy, but a bit dull, Bridge of Spies. Late films in Steven Spielberg's career have all been in the sturdy-but-dull mode, in my opinion, visually impressive (he can afford the best production team in Hollywood), but lacking in the same emotional investment that his original works earlier in his career (Jaws, Raiders, ET) were able to achieve. It's frequently as if he took the wrong message from Schindler and just thought the "historical" nature of the film was what made it great, not the emotional one. That's clear here, where only the Francis Gary Powers scene above the earth equals anything similar to what Spielberg could make in his heyday, and frequently it's just staid, traditional drama that's elevated by two Oscar-winning performers (Tom Hanks & Mark Rylance). Good, but hardly memorable.
Good, but hardly memorable is what you'd think I'd say about The Martian, but few films have reminded more that they were better than my old noggin retained than this Ridley Scott picture. The film is actually quite strong, with solid work by Matt Damon (movie star magic there, his best movie star turn in about twenty years), and a compelling script. The visuals are strong as well, as we wander through not only Mars, but our more earth-bound dwellings (notice how often it's raining on Earth to underscore the difference), and it's just the sort of fun, escapist fare that used to be a slam dunk over the summer rather than an endless array of dull sequels. I liked it-it's not a heavy thinking film & it's not a movie that's breaking any new ground, but it's increasingly hard to make popcorn movies dance like this, and Scott was able to achieve just that.
Room is no one's definition of a popcorn movie, but here again I like it as well. The movie's best half, the technically tricky first half, is mesmerizing; it's hard to get an audience to collectively hold their breaths for some forty minutes, but as we watch Jack & Ma try to escape from a tool shed in someone's backyard, the filmmakers are able to underscore the life-and-death stakes that they are undertaking. I loved what the film had to say about the momentary celebrities we make of people (particularly women) who are only in that position because of unspeakable tragedy, and how we just as easily dismiss them when we take out our newspapers. Along with career-defining work from Jacob Tremblay & Brie Larson, the movie is not one you revisit very often, but it's a powerful motion picture.
This is simply not the case for the other film that is trying desperately hard to be "serious and important," The Revenant. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, one year after his breathtaking and career-best work in Birdman, somehow finds a way to throw out all of that goodwill with The Revenant, a dull (but beautiful) look at an early 19th Century fur trapper and the brutal life he chooses to lead (and the revenge he undertakes for a wife we as an audience barely get to know). At different parts sexist and occasionally just torture porn for the audience, the film seems more inclined in watching its characters suffer than letting us get to know them, and while it's surely a physical feat for lead actor Leonardo DiCaprio, we don't give out Oscars to marathoners just because someone set up a camera in front of the race. The movie indulges all of the worst of AGI's impulses post his Oscar victory lap, and the collective universe was too busy screaming "Give Leo an Oscar" to notice that the movie he was winning it for was lousy.
The Big Short is going to be one of those movies that probably looks horrendous in hindsight if Vice is any indication, the way we all kind of collectively have downgraded our opinions of Inglourious Basterds somewhat in the wake of Django Unchained and The Hateful Eight showing that Tarantino has lost what made his first films so special. The movie itself, though, is relatively good so don't let future failures confuse that fact. The movie in the first two-thirds manages to find a way to make a complicated problem (the housing crash) come to light in a way that a thousand Vox articles almost certainly wouldn't, and there are some solid performances here. The problem is that McKay's lack of self-awareness as a white, liberal millionaire who wants to make sure all of the white millionaires in the film that aren't clear villains are recused tanks the final third, when he tries to make Steve Carell & Ryan Gosling's characters seem like nicer guys than they actually were, while still getting to keep their entire fortune. That problematic political angle was an indication of how badly-handled someone like Dick Cheney, a far more nefarious (and murderous) topic would be in McKay's hands, but we'll ring him over the coals for Vice when we get to 2018. For now, I say mission (mostly) accomplished.
Brooklyn feels sort of out-of-place among these pictures, the sort of movie that was nominated for an honor like this twenty or thirty years prior to 2015, rather than today when we want more intimate biopics or male-driven ensembles. Brooklyn feels like the type of film that would have played well with Merchant-Ivory, but perhaps it's a testament to how good it was that they still decided to include the film despite it having "gone out of fashion." This is certainly because Brooklyn is a breathtaking movie, one that is gorgeous but also honestly felt, particularly by lead actress Saoirse Ronan, fully coming into her own as an adult with a mesmerizing Eilis. Love triangles are the backbone of movie epics, but this one feels more urgent because you genuinely, even as the film ends, don't know what Eilis would have chosen left entirely to her own devices, and underscores how much technology plays a role in the way we interact with family and romance from a distance. Understated, but masterful.
The final film that we'll highlight I chose to be the actual Best Picture winner, Spotlight. The movie's studious devotion to journalism, showing how it can truly change the world, feels very different just a few years later, with Donald Trump routinely beating on the press, and the left frequently (and accurately) lambasting organizations like CNN and The New York Times for not being prepared to handle such a monster taking power in the United States. One can only imagine what Spotlight would have done with such a story hanging over it in future years, but we have the film as it is, which is pretty good but nothing earth-shattering like All the President's Men. We see largely nameless, personality-less performances from the journalists as they pour over decades of abuse, giving us insight into the process of a group of reporters investigating one of the most powerful organizations on the planet for decades of criminal activity (and coverup). The film doesn't do as well when it takes the lens off of this reporting, which is fascinating and thrillingly methodical, trying to also morally grandstand (it seems weird that super-liberal actor Mark Ruffalo, a fine thespian, isn't the right choice to underline the importance of their work, but he isn't and nearly throws the film off of its rails). The sort of Best Picture winner that won't embarrass the Academy, but one that few people will remember ten years from now.
We're going to start with the movie I feel like we've discussed the most in this series, Mad Max: Fury Road. Recent viewings have actually made me appreciate Fury Road a bit more, understanding just where the Mad Max universe started and how much it evolved through the years. The film itself is an action-adventure visual smorgasbord, one that doesn't seem to mind its rather routine script because it's so full of a glorious feast for the eyes. I am more a plot person than someone who can be swept up in the grandeur of what's happening on the screen, but I'm not immune, and by-far Fury Road is the movie with the most distinctive palette of these pictures, and likely the movie that will be best-remembered years from now when other people reassess this field.
The movie that might be the least remembered is the sturdy, but a bit dull, Bridge of Spies. Late films in Steven Spielberg's career have all been in the sturdy-but-dull mode, in my opinion, visually impressive (he can afford the best production team in Hollywood), but lacking in the same emotional investment that his original works earlier in his career (Jaws, Raiders, ET) were able to achieve. It's frequently as if he took the wrong message from Schindler and just thought the "historical" nature of the film was what made it great, not the emotional one. That's clear here, where only the Francis Gary Powers scene above the earth equals anything similar to what Spielberg could make in his heyday, and frequently it's just staid, traditional drama that's elevated by two Oscar-winning performers (Tom Hanks & Mark Rylance). Good, but hardly memorable.
Good, but hardly memorable is what you'd think I'd say about The Martian, but few films have reminded more that they were better than my old noggin retained than this Ridley Scott picture. The film is actually quite strong, with solid work by Matt Damon (movie star magic there, his best movie star turn in about twenty years), and a compelling script. The visuals are strong as well, as we wander through not only Mars, but our more earth-bound dwellings (notice how often it's raining on Earth to underscore the difference), and it's just the sort of fun, escapist fare that used to be a slam dunk over the summer rather than an endless array of dull sequels. I liked it-it's not a heavy thinking film & it's not a movie that's breaking any new ground, but it's increasingly hard to make popcorn movies dance like this, and Scott was able to achieve just that.
Room is no one's definition of a popcorn movie, but here again I like it as well. The movie's best half, the technically tricky first half, is mesmerizing; it's hard to get an audience to collectively hold their breaths for some forty minutes, but as we watch Jack & Ma try to escape from a tool shed in someone's backyard, the filmmakers are able to underscore the life-and-death stakes that they are undertaking. I loved what the film had to say about the momentary celebrities we make of people (particularly women) who are only in that position because of unspeakable tragedy, and how we just as easily dismiss them when we take out our newspapers. Along with career-defining work from Jacob Tremblay & Brie Larson, the movie is not one you revisit very often, but it's a powerful motion picture.
This is simply not the case for the other film that is trying desperately hard to be "serious and important," The Revenant. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, one year after his breathtaking and career-best work in Birdman, somehow finds a way to throw out all of that goodwill with The Revenant, a dull (but beautiful) look at an early 19th Century fur trapper and the brutal life he chooses to lead (and the revenge he undertakes for a wife we as an audience barely get to know). At different parts sexist and occasionally just torture porn for the audience, the film seems more inclined in watching its characters suffer than letting us get to know them, and while it's surely a physical feat for lead actor Leonardo DiCaprio, we don't give out Oscars to marathoners just because someone set up a camera in front of the race. The movie indulges all of the worst of AGI's impulses post his Oscar victory lap, and the collective universe was too busy screaming "Give Leo an Oscar" to notice that the movie he was winning it for was lousy.
The Big Short is going to be one of those movies that probably looks horrendous in hindsight if Vice is any indication, the way we all kind of collectively have downgraded our opinions of Inglourious Basterds somewhat in the wake of Django Unchained and The Hateful Eight showing that Tarantino has lost what made his first films so special. The movie itself, though, is relatively good so don't let future failures confuse that fact. The movie in the first two-thirds manages to find a way to make a complicated problem (the housing crash) come to light in a way that a thousand Vox articles almost certainly wouldn't, and there are some solid performances here. The problem is that McKay's lack of self-awareness as a white, liberal millionaire who wants to make sure all of the white millionaires in the film that aren't clear villains are recused tanks the final third, when he tries to make Steve Carell & Ryan Gosling's characters seem like nicer guys than they actually were, while still getting to keep their entire fortune. That problematic political angle was an indication of how badly-handled someone like Dick Cheney, a far more nefarious (and murderous) topic would be in McKay's hands, but we'll ring him over the coals for Vice when we get to 2018. For now, I say mission (mostly) accomplished.
Brooklyn feels sort of out-of-place among these pictures, the sort of movie that was nominated for an honor like this twenty or thirty years prior to 2015, rather than today when we want more intimate biopics or male-driven ensembles. Brooklyn feels like the type of film that would have played well with Merchant-Ivory, but perhaps it's a testament to how good it was that they still decided to include the film despite it having "gone out of fashion." This is certainly because Brooklyn is a breathtaking movie, one that is gorgeous but also honestly felt, particularly by lead actress Saoirse Ronan, fully coming into her own as an adult with a mesmerizing Eilis. Love triangles are the backbone of movie epics, but this one feels more urgent because you genuinely, even as the film ends, don't know what Eilis would have chosen left entirely to her own devices, and underscores how much technology plays a role in the way we interact with family and romance from a distance. Understated, but masterful.
The final film that we'll highlight I chose to be the actual Best Picture winner, Spotlight. The movie's studious devotion to journalism, showing how it can truly change the world, feels very different just a few years later, with Donald Trump routinely beating on the press, and the left frequently (and accurately) lambasting organizations like CNN and The New York Times for not being prepared to handle such a monster taking power in the United States. One can only imagine what Spotlight would have done with such a story hanging over it in future years, but we have the film as it is, which is pretty good but nothing earth-shattering like All the President's Men. We see largely nameless, personality-less performances from the journalists as they pour over decades of abuse, giving us insight into the process of a group of reporters investigating one of the most powerful organizations on the planet for decades of criminal activity (and coverup). The film doesn't do as well when it takes the lens off of this reporting, which is fascinating and thrillingly methodical, trying to also morally grandstand (it seems weird that super-liberal actor Mark Ruffalo, a fine thespian, isn't the right choice to underline the importance of their work, but he isn't and nearly throws the film off of its rails). The sort of Best Picture winner that won't embarrass the Academy, but one that few people will remember ten years from now.
Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes split their nominations between Comedy/Musical and Drama, so we have a full ten nominees here. The Drama categories went nearly with a full Oscar lineup, having The Revenant triumph over Fury Road, Room, Spotlight, and (the snubbed) Carol while comedy had Oscar nominee The Martian best The Big Short, Joy, Spy, and Trainwreck. The BAFTA's also went with The Revenant for their top prize, having it best The Big Short, Carol, Bridge of Spies, and Spotlight, while the PGA Awards (which go ten-wide) found room for all of Oscar's contestants save for, well, Room, and threw in Ex Machina, Sicario, & Straight Outta Compton. Considering the SAG Ensemble (not a Best Picture nominee, so I'm only listing it in context of the ninth place because many people frequently treat it as such) also included Compton, one has to assume if they'd been ten-wide that Carol and the rapping biopic were the last two contenders, and it still feels odd that Carol didn't eventually make it into this race.
Films I Would Have Nominated: As I hate when people have a laundry list of snubbed films for the big prize, I'll try to only include movies here that I would have included in my Top 8 (since that's all Oscar allowed) even though this stands as one of the better cinematic years of the decade in hindsight. It will still be a lot though as I'd only for sure keep two of Oscars' nominees. For starters, Carol is a magnum opus & certainly deserved to be included on such a lineup (I still don't get why Oscar didn't have it there considering the universal praise & precursor support, not to mention the support the film got in various AMPAS branches). I also would have found room for the under-seen romantic epic Testament of Youth, the cerebral acting drama Clouds of Sils Maria, the marital discord take of 45 Years, and the movie that made me laugh harder than any this decade, Spy. For the final nomination, it's hard to debate between Fury Road and Ex Machina, both even in the Sci Fi/Fantasy sort of realm, but about as polar opposite in their approach to their subject as you can get. Perhaps like the Oscars (which surely should have included Carol) I'd go with the ninth nomination option (which is sitting right there) and break my rule to include both, something the Academy should have considered.
Oscar’s Choice: Looking at the precursors, this was actually a bit of a tossup (if you count SAG Ensemble, Spotlight, The Martian, The Revenant, & The Big Short had all won major awards going into the Oscar race). In the end, the Academy split the difference and gave this to the conventional Spotlight, a victory few people are going to remember but will play better in hindsight than some of the other options.
My Choice: Easy call for Brooklyn, a beautiful, tender love story that looks effortless in a way other people who tackle this genre simply cannot achieve over Room, which was a breathtaking acting triumph and by no-means a guaranteed nomination so well-done to Oscar for singling it out for the top prize. I'll follow with Fury Road, Martian, Spotlight, Bridge of Spies, Big Short, & The Revenant.
Yes, we're done with 2015, but you can still join me for a discussion of the year in the comments. Were you with me that Brooklyn was the best of this bunch, or are you more with Oscar & Spotlight (or more likely, picking films like Fury Road or Revenant which had more champions at the time)? Was it Straight Outta Compton or Carol in ninth place? And who ended up with a better lineup for Best Picture-Oscar or me? Share your thoughts on anything 2015-related below! We go into 2016 on Monday!
Also in 2015: Director, Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Original Screenplay, Adapted Screenplay, Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Production Design, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Documentary Short, Live Action Short, Animated Short, Previously in 2015
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