OVP: Picture (2021)

 OVP: Best Picture (2021)

The Nominees Were...

Laura Berwick, Kenneth Branagh, Becca Kovacik, & Tamar Thomas, Belfast

Philippe Rousselet, Fabrice Gianfermi, & Patrick Wachsberger, CODA

Adam McKay & Kevin Messick, Don't Look Up

Teruhisa Yamamoto, Drive My Car

Mary Parent, Denis Villeneuve, & Cale Boyter, Dune

Tim White, Trevor White, & Will Smith, King Richard

Sara Murphy, Adam Somner, & Paul Thomas Anderson, Licorice Pizza

Guillermo del Toro, J. Miles Dale, & Bradley Cooper, Nightmare Alley

Jane Campion, Tanya Seghatchian, Emile Sherman, Iain Canning, & Roger Frappier, The Power of the Dog

Steven Spielberg & Kristie Macosko Krieger, West Side Story

My Thoughts: We are officially finishing off 2021, the year that brought back the "ten-wide" rule (thank the lord...it should be ten or five, not this floating number each year), and the year where movies returned to theaters.  We'll get to the My Oscar Ballot tomorrow (where I pick my nominees), but for today, we've talked about all of the films for weeks (links to all past contests below)-let's crown a winner!

Dune is a movie that plays as a half of a film.  This isn't the first time this has happened (Empire Strikes Back and Back to the Future II come to mind), but even in a world where sequels are inevitable, I don't know that I love that it's not a complete vision, as it's hard to gage without seeing the second half.  That's really the only complaint I have about an otherwise magical film.  The effects, cinematography, and writing are all top drawer, playing with visual space onscreen by showing grandeur against a limitless nothingness on the planet of Arrakis, and featuring solid turns from Rebecca Ferguson & Charlotte Rampling.

Speaking of movies that feel incomplete, we have King Richard.  This has a solid lead performance from Will Smith, but it's too glossy for me.  This happens when you have portrayals of real-life figures, especially when those real-life figures still have a lot of power to shape their narrative (the Williams sisters are not signing off on a movie that makes their dad look bad).  As a result, you get an unrealistic look at a man who the film insists is always right, and late in the film tries to give you some of the complications of his parenting without actually articulating them.  The tennis scenes are well-edited & timed, but the film itself can't claim the same.

Licorice Pizza was marred in some critical debates by conversations about its content...largely from young critics who don't really understand that movies aren't supposed to be literal reflections of life.  The film itself is meant to be a suspension-of-reality, and it pays off.  We get Anderson's most cinematic movie yet, a dreamy look at the coming-of-age narrative, with terrific performances from Cooper Hoffman (very much doing his dad proud) and a star-is-born turn by rocker Alana Haim.  Throw in fun cameos by Bradley Cooper & Harriet Sansom Harris, and you've got yet another "W" in the PTA column.

The Power of the Dog is a slow-burn enigmatic tale that never stops surprising the audience.  That lack of expectation & the way that we don't know what's next is really a testament to Campion's ability, decades into her career, to come up with one of her best movies to date (have to clarify with "one of" when you made The Piano).  Benedict Cumberbatch's weird accent work and unusual delivery is somehow the perfect fit for his Phil, an enthralling, dangerous man who knows the best way to make all of the people in his life (ably played by Kirsten Dunst, Kodi Smit-McPhee, & Jesse Plemons) on edge, and feeling like they have no way out.

Drive My Car got most of its press from its length and the shocking moment 40 minutes into the movie where they decided to start the credits, showing the audience they're in for the long haul.  But that's not a problem for the movie, whose in-depth story of grief & loss doesn't play as a dirge, but instead something you want to continue watching.  The movie overdoes it with the connections to Uncle Vanya and some of the side characters (specifically the owners of the theater company) feel a bit stilted, but overall it's a strong movie, and features a great lead performance from Hidetoshi Nishijima.

West Side Story is one of those remakes I insisted I didn't need...until I saw it and realized "this one gets a pass."  Of course Spielberg has possibly the greatest musical score of the 20th Century to play with, but he reinvents characters (Mike Faist comes out as a STAR in this), gives us unique takes on the film's original text (it isn't afraid to point out the racial politics at play that were underdone in the 1961 film), and during many of the musical numbers, you're reminded why he's one of the great filmmakers of all time (that scene at the dance!).  There are quibbles (the choreography is too repetitive, the cinematography feels a bit too heightened in some scenes), but overall this is Spielberg's best work in decades.

The films of Adam McKay have gotten increasingly off-track, and utterly ridiculous (giving a man an Oscar does not make him Quentin Tarantino).  That's more-than-true with Don't Look Up.  Listen, nothing in this film isn't true-the absurdity of the media, the inability of the political establishment to do anything about major issues without needing to be pushed to the brink...this is literally what is happening with climate change.  It's appropriately terrifying.  But it's broad as a barn, and with a call sheet that boasts five Oscar winners (not to mention Timothee Chalamet & Melanie Lynskey!), he does nothing with this godsend of a cast, making Mark Rylance & Meryl Streep give maybe the worst performances of their careers.  A sloppy, gross mess...that admittedly makes some decent points.

CODA is the sort of movie that if you take it out of the context of the Oscars, would age very well.  The movie is strong if formulaic, with a decent roster cast (best of the bunch is Daniel Durant as a sexy, sullen older brother caught in his sister's shadow), and it does what it is attempting to do well.  Simple is not always easy, and it plays at warmth & heart without feeling saccharine or like you're watching a third act speech on a 1990's sitcom.  Giving it the Oscar made it an easy target for potshots, but if we're being honest-it's a good movie, and better than a lot of its competition.

The same can be said for Belfast, a wonderful spin on the Cinema Paradiso trope that gains a lot of its strength through the casting department, as the entire team is working well here, particularly Jamie Dornan in the film that gets him out of his Grey doldrums and proves what a fine actor is underneath his chiseled-from-marble exterior.  In a different life, this would've been a feel good, word-of-mouth hit thanks to the way that it plays on the importance of family set amidst the tragedy of violence, and while it doesn't stick the ending...after a joyous ride it's hard to care that much.

The final nomination is for Nightmare Alley, arguably the big shocker of this slate, and like West Side Story, a remake I didn't really want but was happy to receive once it came on my doorstop.  Like WSS, the movie does things the original couldn't, particularly sticking to the original book ending (which I won't spoil here, but it's better than what we get in 1947), and playing with the nastiness of the darkest film noir of the Golden Age.  Bradley Cooper has never been better, and the ways the gothic cinematography play with space are super inventive.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes separate their categories into Drama and Musical/Comedy (and in 2021, they separated their awards from an audience given the HFPA boycotts), so you have The Power of the Dog taking Drama over Belfast, CODA, Dune, and King Richard, while Musical/Comedy went in the predictable direction of West Side Story against Cyrano, Don't Look Up, Licorice Pizza, and Tick Tick Boom.  PGA goes ten-wide, and picked CODA atop Oscar's lineup save for Drive My Car & Nightmare Alley which were replaced with Tick Tick Boom and Being the Ricardos.  And BAFTA is still five-wide so while they went with Power of the Dog as well, it was only over Belfast, Don't Look Up, Dune, & Licorice Pizza.  Eleventh place has to be Tick Tick Boom, given its precursor run, lead actor citation, & (most crucially) a nomination for editing with AMPAS.

Films I Would Have Nominated: You'll find out tomorrow!

Oscar’s Choice: In a victory that I predicted but still shocked, CODA took it over the more critically-acclaimed Power of the Dog (I also wonder if in future years we'll think about this as the year Dune lost in the way we think of Star Wars losing in 1977, depending on that franchise's legs).

My Choice: In a pretty solid field, Power of the Dog stands on top as the champion.  Jane's look at the western is too strong to ignore, and I'm not going to make the same mistake as Oscar.  Following it will be (in order) Dune, West Side Story, Licorice Pizza, CODA, Nightmare Alley, Belfast, Drive My Car, King Richard, and Don't Look Up.

And there you have it-another OVP in the books.  Are you joining me in Jane's uncomfortable western or do you want the heartwarming tale that Sian brought with CODA?  What film was most vulnerable to an attack from Tick Tick Boom?  And overall-what is your favorite movie of 2021?  Share your comments below!

Also in 2021: Director, Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Original Screenplay, International Feature Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound, Original Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2021

Past Best Picture Contests: 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020

OVP: Adapted Screenplay (2021)

OVP: Best Adapted Screenplay (2021)

The Nominees Were...

Sian Heder, CODA

Ryusuke Hamaguchi & Takamasa Oe, Drive My Car

Jon Spaihts, Denis Villeneuve, & Eric Roth, Dune

Maggie Gyllenhaal, The Lost Daughter

Jane Campion, The Power of the Dog

My Thoughts: Similar to the Original Screenplay race (links to all past contests are at the bottom of this page), Best Adapted Screenplay had four Best Picture nominees and one additional citation, in this case a film nominated for two acting trophies.  As a result, this isn't the most creative bunch of contenders, with Oscar thinking outside of the box.  It is, however, a pretty good list of options.  2021 was a solid year for movies in terms of quality even if it was clearly a growing pains year in terms of box office, with the streaming vs. box office debate raging (for no good reason...streaming was always a dead end for the movie industry).

We're going to start with CODA, which is bizarre because this is easily the longest we've gone without discussing a Best Picture winner in the my ballots.  Nominated for only three categories (and winning them all), I was one of the rare people to see CODA in a regular, first-run theater (not in a festival or on AppleTV)...in fact I saw all of the Best Picture nominees of 2021 in theaters.  I'm also one of the people (on Film Twitter, at least) to genuinely like it.  This film is not breaking any new ground, and winning Best Picture was too much prestige/pressure to put on it, but this is a solidly-structured film & heartwarming.  That feels like more of a credit to its acting ensemble than its writing, but this is a script filled with humor & strong touches (Kotsur & Matlin's horny, endearing relationship...Daniel Durant's excessive hotness played for maximum effect), so it's very hard to be mad that it did so well.

That said, Jane Campion's work on The Power of the Dog, which missed as a result of CODA's victory, is playing in a different league.  A three-act play that unfolds like that's both necessary AND not too overly-plotted, the movie positions its characters like chess pieces, but ones whose abilities you don't understand until the very end.  Cumberbatch's great soliloquies throughout are credited (appropriately) to the actor's strange dialect and unnerving demeanor, but they're also a credit to Campion, knowing the right way to have him speak the truth (about Bronco Henry) while also terrifying any man who dares to challenge him.

The Lost Daughter, like CODA, is also getting its first mention here, and is penned by the rare person to be nominated for both acting & writing, Maggie Gyllenhaal.  The movie is very good at wringing the unusual tension of everyday life and escalating it to the point where you feel like you're in a horror movie...there's something bizarre in how it treats white lies & unusual social situations in such a fashion that you are gripping your chair.  But the flashback scenes are underwritten, as if we're being left out of things on purpose to make the present more ambiguous.  I feel like this takes you out of the film more than it does keeps you on edge.

Drive My Car is in a similar boat.  The way the movie is structured and how it uses key aspects of the plot to drive additional emotions (here, instead of tension, it becomes grief), is brilliant, and I think the script needs some credit for sticking to that framing device, particularly the ingenious use of the credits a third of the way through the film.  But the movie, if we're being picky (and this is for an Oscar, we have to be), doesn't flesh out side characters enough (the theater owners, for example, are poorly inserted), and I don't know that all of the Uncle Vanya motif works.

The final nominee is Dune, which is partially an unusual nomination given that SciFi rarely shows up here.  But as someone who tried to get through Frank Herbert's slog of a book (I had a boyfriend who said it was his favorite book so I was reading it because I am that guy who genuinely reads your recommendations if he likes you, but the second we broke up it went back on my bookshelf to collect dust as it was SO needlessly dense), I was impressed at how well the film adapts.  It has a difficult task of both not making the film feel like Star Wars (George Lucas heavily borrowed from Herbert's novel), but also trying to engage in fleshing out a relatively thinly-plotted story.  It does that with both, giving us clear stakes, and enigma without it feeling annoying that we won't resolve until the second film.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes combine their writing categories so there is no adapted or original distinction, and in this case most of the nominees were originals, so we just had one (losing) nominee in The Power of the Dog.  WGA splits the categories, so we had CODA as the winner against Dune, Nightmare Alley, Tick Tick Boom, and West Side Story (WGA has weird eligibility rules, so I would assume that's why we aren't seeing The Power of the Dog), while BAFTA also went with CODA (I had no memory of that), against the exact Oscar lineup.  In terms of sixth place, it was West Side Story.  At the time I was over-confident of it (proof that you can't always trust Oscar narratives retroactively), but apparently it being a musical was too big of an obstacle even with a Best Picture nomination & Tony Kushner writing it.

Films I Would Have Nominated: As I said above, there's no bad nominee here-all of these are good movies and thumbs up screenplays.  But that's not to say that there's not room for improvement.  West Side Story, for example, modernizes the script without making it feel inauthentic or "catered" to a modern audience, which is hard to do for a film whose racially-insensitive initial casting felt like something for which the filmmakers wanted to overtly compensate.

Oscar's Choice: If they'd liked Power of the Dog better, it'd be easy to see Jane Campion getting multiple Oscars.  But given she already had a Best Director statue hand-wrapped for her, CODA prevailed in a big way.

My Choice: The Power of the Dog, and it ain't close.  Dune is my second, and it's a good script (it'll medal from me), but come on now-Campion's script is so much better her loss will confound future Oscar historians.  Behind these two I'll do Drive My Car, CODA, and The Lost Daughter, in that order.

Those are my thoughts-what about you?  Do you want to go with Oscar's feel-good CODA or you more inclined to the escalating stakes of The Power of the Dog?  For those who have read Frank Herbert's book, are you as impressed as I am by how well they brought it to the screen?  And do you think Oscar's aversion to musicals in this category is fair?  Share your thoughts below!

Also in 2021: Original Screenplay, International Feature Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound, Original Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2021

Past Best Adapted Screenplay Contests: 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020

My Top 10 of 2021

Yesterday we went through my Top 10 favorite first-time viewings in 2021 (that weren't 2021 releases).  Today, we'll get into the 2021 releases.  This isn't a popular sentiment to share in certain sections of the internet, but I was generally bored by cinema in 2020.  While I'm not someone that always needs a lot of happy endings or giant effects, having all small, independent films got to be a bit monotonous, and perhaps more damning, there simply weren't that many truly spectacular movies, and the ones that were suffered from not getting the bright pop of a big-screen (think of how much better Mank or Nomadland would have looked in your local cineplex).  That wasn't the case in 2021.  Not only do I think this year was an improvement over last year, I am thrilled to say I saw eight of the below (10, err, 11) films on the big-screen, which in at least a couple of cases made all of the difference.

I am a one-man operation here with a full-time day job, and so there are inevitably a few films that I missed here.  I have every intention of seeing, specifically, Drive My Car & Flee (arguably the most critically-lauded movies that I didn't have the chance to get to), but weather and sheer exhaustion meant they missed the cutoff by a few days.  I did, however, see over sixty movies from 2021, and below are the ten best (alphabetically) of the bunch.  

Honorable Mention

Bo Burnham: Inside

dir. Bo Burnham

In an era where streaming overlaps so frequently with film it's hard to grasp the difference between what is and isn't cinema.  My gut says, by the strictest definitions, that this was intended to be "television" and as a result I'm not going to rank Bo Burnham's vital, bold, revolutionary comedy special in this Top 10, but know that if it was a movie it surely would've not just made this list, but would've sat at the top of it.

My Top Ten

Bergman Island

dir. Mia Hansen-Love

Part Certified Copy, part The French Lieutenant's Woman, with just a sprinkling of Scenes from a Marriage to stay on theme, Bergman Island is a thoughtful look at how we are haunted by art, and the way the tales we create for ourselves mirror our real-life relationships.

CODA

dir. Sian Heder

Takes a formulaic story and fills it with warmth & heart in unexpected ways.  The entire cast shows up (it's difficult to single out a member of the main quartet, though you'll crush hard on Daniel Durant) in the year's best ensemble.

Dune

dir. Denis Villeneuve

Oh yeah, that's what I've been missing.  Big-scale moviemaking of the highest-order, Villeneuve brings Frank Herbert's seemingly unfilmable movie to life with excellent world-building, superb effects, & a slew of superstars ready to embrace the picture's iconography.

Encanto

dir. Byron Howard & Jared Bush

Lin-Manuel Miranda's score is of course the centerpiece here ("We Don't Talk About Bruno" became a pop culture phenomenon for a reason), but what left me invested in a way I haven't been for the Mouse House since Coco was the myriad details the filmmakers put into every corner of the picture-it's a familiar story, but it feels anew with such well-drawn side characters.

The Green Knight

dir. David Lowery

The Green Knight plays a lot with form (this is less Howard Pyle and more Terrence Malick), but it truly shows what the meaning of honor is (what it's worth and its artificial constructs).  Dev Patel is marvelous (and sexy as hell) as our lead hero, and Alicia Vikander proves all of her Oscar naysayers wrong with a complicated (but perfectly executed) dual role.

Licorice Pizza

dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

By far the year's most "cinematic" movie.  I am always intrigued with PTA, but am not always in love...Licorice Pizza is one of those times where adoration is involved.  Alana Haim sings onscreen (excuse the pun)...a born actress from the opening scene.

The Power of the Dog

dir. Jane Campion

Completely enthralling, a slow-burn enigmatic tale that will keep you guessing right up until the final moments.  Benedict Cumberbatch takes what could've been a fatally miscast role and gives the performance of his career, and Kirsten Dunst & Kodi Smit-McPhee are up to the task of aiding him to that chilling finale.

Quo Vadis, Aida?

dir. Jasmila Zbanic

Quo Vadis, Aida? is at its best when it's showing the cruelty of fate.  A real-life story that plays with the tension of a high-stakes thriller (you will grip your armrest), it captures the immediateness of war in a way that few films before it have been able to achieve.

West Side Story

dir. Steven Spielberg

I never had a doubt that Steven Spielberg would make a good remake of arguably the 20th Century's greatest musical, but what I was unsure of was if he'd make it feel "needed."  Turns out, Spielberg is able to bring a modernness (without it ever feeling tacked on) to this tale, and is aided by a solid ensemble cast, particularly Mike Faist & Ariana DeBose.

The Worst Person in the World

dir. Joachim Trier

Trier captures one woman's life, the up's and down's in amazing detail.  But what makes Worst Person's story so mesmerizing is the way that he doesn't take time to let us second guess.  Like real life, Worst Person gives us a story about people who aren't ready to make decisions that they must make, and will affect the rest of their lives.  Few films can give us such stakes without feeling manipulated.

OVP: Director (2016)

OVP: Best Director (2016)

The Nominees Were...

Denis Villeneuve, Arrival
Mel Gibson, Hacksaw Ridge
Damien Chazelle, La La Land
Kenneth Lonergan, Manchester by the Sea
Barry Jenkins, Moonlight

My Thoughts: We are not going to do a full week devoted to directors like we did with Best Actress last week, but we are going to do something equally momentous-by Friday, we will have finished 2016, a project that we laid out as long ago as July of 2019 (still, sadly not the longest series we've done for an OVP ballot).  If you are curious about past contests, either from 2016 races or for past Best Director matchups, I have very kindly linked all of them below!  But now, let's get into these guys, and we're going to start with Kenneth Lonergan.  

Lonergan is, weirdly enough, the most-nominated person of these five directors (this is Villeneuve's only nomination, the other three nominees have been cited three times each), though it's his first time for directing.  Manchester we've talked about a lot over this series, but the direction isn't really where you initially head with the picture-it's more a writing or an acting triumph.  That said, the way that he lays out some of the scenes, and how he keeps certain scenes that would be "big" with a less subtle director back so he can have a bigger payoff later, shows how meticulous he is with his directing.  Manchester brings the stories of these people to life, making them feel flesh-and-blood but also sadly relatable, as if we project our own personal tragedies on them.  Lonergan's steady hand behind the camera might not cause this, but it certainly allows it to blossom.

Moonlight could also fall under the guise of an acting or writing triumph rather than one for its director, but it doesn't, and I don't think it even got those sorts of arguments during 2016 because of Jenkins' mesmerizing ability to keep the movie flowing.  Moonlight doesn't allow you to just sit back and wait for what happens next-it instead jolts you ahead, as life does, even when you're not ready for it.  Jenkins makes his elegant, introverted drama have the speed of a roller coaster, and it's a winning, risky combination that I'm glad the Academy paid tribute toward.

Jenkins chief competitor on Oscar night was young Damien Chazelle.  La La Land could never be confused as a writer's or actor's film-this is Chazelle's vision through-and-through.  It's just unfortunately messy.  Chazelle frequently borrows from movies like The Band Wagon and An American in Paris, but it feels more like copying than homage, as if he's presenting this as his own ideas he's giving so little spin on the originals.  Scenes in La La Land are choppy and unnecessary (the entire subplot with John Legend is weirdly off-beat for the movie), and it genuinely feels like an ode to musicals made by a guy who doesn't like musicals.  I've come around on Chazelle's talents with First Man, but here he whiffs badly-arguably the worst aspect of La La Land might be its misguided direction.

Denis Villeneuve is another director who I have had both hits and misses with, but Arrival is by-far my favorite of his films, and the one that I think he directs with the most confidence in what he's doing.  Villeneuve creates a gorgeous vision with Arrival-it has distinct flavors and moods that lend itself well to an auteur styling, even if it's in the trappings of a big budget SciFi adventure.  I love the way that he sells the big scenes, like Louise's first communication with the aliens, and the scenes toward the end where we realize the truth of the plot.  Villeneuve creates a sophisticated, sharp movie that leans into his best instincts.

And then we have Mel Gibson.  It's hard to talk about Gibson now considering his public persona has shifted from sexy family man to heavily-drinking anti-semite.  If this was a ranking of who I think is the better person or who I would want to have dinner with, Gibson would be an easy call for last.  But if we're going based on simply the film in front of us, Gibson is a director who understands story & how to bring a blockbuster to life.  Yes, the first twenty minutes are a snooze, but his action sequences are memorable and well-executed, as is how Desmond can live his pacifist truth, but it won't shield him from the tragedies of war.  There are a lot of problems with Hacksaw overall, but it's hard to fault Gibson in the director's chair so much as other decisions with the story.

Other Precursor Contenders: We get five nominees a piece from the precursors, a rare situation where all of the fields we look at match Oscar in their contender count.  The Globes gave their trophy to Chazelle, and bumped out Villeneuve in favor of Tom Ford for Nocturnal Animals (gotta love those celebrity directors!).  The DGA also went with Chazelle, but instead of Gibson they went with Garth Davis for Lion (who was my prediction for sixth place, for the record, even if Ford got higher profile nominations).  And finally at BAFTA, we saw both Gibson & Barry Jenkins sit out in favor of Ford and Ken Loach (I, Daniel Blake).

Directors I Would Have Nominated: I would have given a nomination for sure to Pablo Larrain, who has been so good so often lately, and had his best work so far in Jackie.  I also would lean heavily into two of my favorite directors working right now, Martin Scorsese (Silence) and Richard Linklater (Everybody Wants Some!).  Scorsese makes what might be his best film this century (give or take The Irishman) with Silence, and keeps a three-hour movie intoxicating, while Linklater gives you a bunch of hot baseball players & suddenly has you reconsidering your youth and its fleeting nature.
Oscar's Choice: While Best Picture was a nail-biter, I have to assume that Chazelle got this in a walk over Jenkins.

My Choice: Jenkins deserves the win here-he has not just a good movie, but one that is hard to craft & has a directorial vision.  Follow that with Villeneuve, Lonergan, Gibson, & Chazelle.

Those were my thoughts-how about yours?  I feel like more people have moved over with me on Team Jenkins than were on Chazelle's at the time, but anyone want to make the case for La La Land?  Am I crazy for not putting Gibson last here (based solely on the film's direction, not the man behind it)?  And who would Davis have bumped if he had made the cut?  Share your thoughts in the comments!

Also in 2016: 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, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2016

Past Best Director Contests: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015

OVP: Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

Film: Blade Runner 2049 (2017)
Stars: Ryan Gosling, Harrison Ford, Ana de Armas, Sylvia Hoeks, Robin Wright, Mackenzie Davis
Director: Denis Villeneuve
Oscar History: 5 nominations/2 wins (Best Cinematography*, Production Design, Sound Editing, Sound Mixing, Visual Effects*)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

The world did not need a sequel to Blade Runner, but it got one anyway.  That was the thought that kept running through my head about a "film classic" that I didn't really love when I finally saw it, but has so greatly influenced the way we look at the movies since (seriously-name another movie that has more influenced set design in Sci-Fi in the years since, I dare you), that it deserved some respect.  The reason for this I'll get to in a second (but if you're a fan of the original film, you'll know what I'm talking about right away), and why I largely avoided the movie itself when it came out (also the length-I have places to be, people).  But a sequel happened regardless, and as it seems certain to land 2-3 Oscar nominations so I figured it was time I head to a dollar theater to give it a shot.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie takes place thirty years after the original, with the world still a ghost town of its former self (hey, Trump's America-we could be in Blade Runner territory by 2019 at this rate, minus the belief in science), and with replicants now living amongst the human population, largely as slaves.  One of these replicants K (Gosling) is charged with taking out replicants that have gone rogue.  At one of his missions, he discovers the bones of a female replicant who died while trying to give birth, proving that replicants aren't sterile.  This of course ends up being Rachael (Sean Young) from the original film, who has had a child with Rick Deckard (Ford), still on the run and living in a post-apocalyptic Las Vegas.  The film results in a series of chases where K and Deckard, sometimes on the same side, sometimes on opposing, try and outrun Niander Wallace's (Jared Leto) henchmen (for lack of a better word), particularly the evil and sadistic Luv (Hoeks).  The film ends with K dying on the stairs, while Deckard gets to meet his daughter for the first time.

The movie is, well, kind of sloppy.  The first Blade Runner largely functioned well because there was a question hanging over the picture over whether or not Deckard was actually a replicant and didn't know it or not.  That question is essential to the film's core, and in particular its ambiguous ending.  By bringing back a (physically older, sorry Harrison) Deckard, we see that of course he wasn't a replicant, taking away one of the great mysteries of Science-Fiction.  That alone should have precluded this movie from being made.  By bringing him back, you get a more traditional sequel, but one that is reliant upon spooky-and-strange as its ambience, when pretty much everything is straight-forward.  There is no mystery, no ambiguity hanging over the film's ending and the characters that are enigmatic (particularly Niander and Luv) are too bland to care about.  Hoeks is trying her best as Luv, but never approaches, say, the intrigue of Pris from the original, which she's obviously borrowing from in this performance.  And Leto being asked to play a part this prone to scenery-chewing (it's clearly the Rutger Hauer stand-in), was a casting director foul that literally anyone could have seen coming; Leto overacts, over-emotes, and quite frankly is just terrible in this performance, continuing a post-Dallas Buyers Club streak of him being creepy off-screen and on.

The film's only lending card is the gargantuan and stylish special effects, which here it delivers.  The movie never sacrifices the motif of the original film, and works within its confines, so we don't get wall-to-wall dull CGI.  I loved the giant head motif, and the whitened tree in particular.  Roger Deakins' cinematography is sometimes spectacularly showy, to the point where you feel like you're being forced to watch shots so impressive the movie's plot gets washed out by the visuals, but complaining about someone being too good at their job feels a bit glib even for me, and this is another in a recent pantheon of marvelously-lensed movies from the man in desperate search of an Oscar.  I am not someone who gives a free pass to movies looking great as a bandaid over great plot (I'm more likely to forgive in the opposite direction), but I have to admit I'm not going to complain about its inevitable trio of Oscar nominations (and possibly wins) when they happen in the visual categories.  Otherwise, though, this is a dull affair that tainted a Sci-Fi classic's finale.

OVP: Arrival (2016)

Film: Arrival (2016)
Stars: Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner, Forest Whitaker, Michael Stuhlbarg, Tzi Ma
Director: Denis Villeneuve
Oscar History: 8 nominations/1 win (Best Picture, Director, Cinematography, Film Editing, Production Design, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing*, Adapted Screenplay)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

The films of Denis Villeneuve have been a hodgepodge for me, and not necessarily in a bad way.  The first of his films that I saw I was enamored with, enough to give Incendies my OVP from that year.  The next two of his pictures I caught, however, I left less-than-impressed, but mostly frustrated because I found elements of them so good.  Villeneuve starts a conversation in his films-he isn't afraid of tackling tough subjects and of giving us heroes that are deeply flawed, but my problem with him always lies in the way he can't quite go there with the ending for his characters, always giving them some moral ways out of hairy, tough situations (he has yet to approach the nasty genius of Dan Gilroy's Nightcrawler, even if that feels like a movie he might have made).  With Arrival, he takes his style and directorial work into a different direction, and so my question was-can the genius he clearly has be grounded enough by looking in a different direction to finally have me unequivocally proclaim one of his English-language films a masterpiece?

(Spoilers Ahead) Arrival has that same level of frustration, but unlike Prisoners or Sicario, he actually sticks the landing, making this his best movie-to-date.  The film reads, on-paper, as somewhat traditional.  You have Louise Banks (Adams), a linguist with past experience with the CIA, telling two separate stories, one of her daughter, lost to a rare disease as a child, and one of an encounter with an alien species, and humans trying to find a way to peacefully communicate with the species, with different parts of the world coming together with differing viewpoints (war, peace, something in-between) on how to handle the aliens.

This is a pretty conventional story, and in a lesser director's hands, perhaps it would have stayed solely on that question of "are they good or are they bad?", but Villeneuve is too interesting in his approach to film to stay entirely on that question.  We see, relatively quickly in the film (for me, at least) that time is a bit loose; I was able to tell fairly early in the picture that the "flashbacks" to her daughter were actually her in the future, and that would mean that she would live past this encounter, and humanity would continue.  This may be the most frustrating aspect of the movie, in my opinion-waiting for a twist you know is going to come is agonizing in a lot of pictures (just ask anyone who's seen most of M. Night Shymalan's later work).

But Villeneuve actually finds a way to make this work for him, particularly aided by a mesmerizing performance from Adams in the central role.  He uses her passive voice and demeanor to instill in us a sense of calm, but also defeatedness.  Villeneuve's problem is penetrating an audience that is fearful of worldwide catastrophe at any moment, and finding a way to connect with them without getting an eyeroll from an increasingly jaded public.  He does that by making this hard-it's not an easy film, and very few answers are spelled out in front of us.  He trusts Adams in the central role as our ambassador to these creatures, and to trying to find a strength to be beyond ourselves, a struggle that is as difficult for an audience member as it is for Adams on the screen.  Adams smartly doesn't give you a lot of heart in her performance-she is someone who has based much of her life on a few core beliefs, and her job-but she still finds wonder through an introverted, closed-off human being.  It's a marvelous look at joy and pain, but more the former which is truly a unique way to approach a film that essentially boils down to, "would you be willing to have the worst moment of your life wiped away if it also took with you some of the best?"  The answer is of course what you'd expect from a movie (have the daughter you know will someday die), but the way that Villeneuve gets there, placidly, calmly, but with great thoughtfulness is beautiful.  Arrival is his Birdman-where all of his ticks as a director find exactly the right spot to come together, and as a result we get something illuminating.

OVP: Sicario (2015)

Film: Sicario (2015)
Stars: Emily Blunt, Benicio del Toro, Josh Brolin, Daniel Kaluuya
Director: Denis Villeneuve
Oscar History: 3 nominations (Best Cinematography, Sound Editing, Original Score)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

If you have read this blog for very long, you know that I have a complicated history with Denis Villeneuve.  I first loved his film Incendies, giving it my OVP in 2010, and followed it with a complicated loathing of the movie Prisoners, and finally was fully back onboard with his cerebral Enemy last year.  Overall, though, he's at that point where I will pay for the ticket pretty much regardless of the reviews as none of his films have been short on fascination, and that's the case with Sicario, which landed somewhere in the middle for me in terms of the Villeneuve filmography.  The film's heavy on atmosphere, but light on character and works as often as it shouldn't.  It's yet another rich movie with some angles that I didn't care for, so let's get started.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film follows Kate Macer (Blunt), an FBI agent who is drawn into the world of the Mexican drug cartel to work with a CIA officer Matt Graver (Brolin), who is unorthodox but appears insistent that Kate be his partner for the mission, dismissing her current partner Reggie (Kaluuya) to the background.  As they proceed, they give Kate little information about what is actually happening, and even when his seemingly more forthcoming partner Alejandro (del Toro) comes into the picture and they are more revealing of their plans (that they are headed to Juarez, Mexico, instead of El Paso), Kate remains lost, though savvy audience members will see that clearly Kate is a bit of a pawn at this point in the plot, a reputable alibi for the seediness that both Matt and Alejandro are doing in Mexico in trying to find some semblance of balance and order regarding the deeply violent Mexican drug cartels.  The film continues along this path, with Kate doing that most classic of cinematic motifs (descent into hell), as she gets further and further outside the law and into the raw danger of this world.

That raw danger is clearly the best asset this movie has going for it  Frequently the film seems to be borrowing from films like No Country for Old Men and The Counselor, as Texas is framed not as a a welcoming desert but instead as something vast and isolated-we get a sense quickly of how the constant quiet sort of mesmerizes you and leaves you wondering what happens next door.  There is also a sense of the violence that happens in the Mexican drug cartels, and why this feels like an unwinnable war, enough so that when you realize that Alejandro is only working with the CIA to avenge his wife and take back control of the drug cartel for himself, you're almost left with a sense of justification (better the enemy we know...), even though he's going to continue to perpetrate violence on people and give people access to dangerous and deadly drugs.

Del Toro has been winning raves for the role, and it is indeed the kind of performance that Oscar notices (though you have to wonder if del Toro is tired of being nominated for playing convicts and criminals at this point in his career), and he's too strong of an actor not to excel in the role, though I do wonder if Villeneuve might have underwritten not his Alejandro (who gains from underwriting) but everything around him so that his showdown is a bit more heightened.  Del Toro is basically the lead, in reality, as Blunt's Kate is at once completely alien to this world and too little is known about her.  Kate is clearly someone who joined the FBI for the right reasons, to make a difference, but the film's interest in her is more to watch her go from naive to worldly, but we never get the sense of why she's so alone, why she's so passive, and she doesn't get Alejandro's intriguing storyline to really drive that home.  Blunt's a good actor (admittedly not as good so far in her career as del Toro), but she doesn't handle underwritten roles quite as well as she should, and I have yet to be really blown away by her as a dramatic actor (I wasn't wild about her in either Edge of Tomorrow or The Young Victoria, her too most lauded serious turns).  Kate is a character that, like Josh Brolin in No Country for Old Men, we need to see a little bit more of the turn into the dark side and her descent to get a full picture of the movie, and that is missing in Sicario.

So all-in-all I'd put this more on the Prisoners side of things for Villeneuve in the "some great moments, some frustrating, but not a classic," though I will point out the that the film has yet to infuriate me in the same way that the Hugh Jackman picture did.  What are your thoughts?  Do you feel that Sicario is one of Villeneuve's better pictures?  Do you think it has a chance with Oscar?  Do you think the sequel idea is as stupid as I do since it would give too much information regarding del Toro's Alejandro?  And what role do you think will finally make Emily Blunt live up to the potential she exhibited in The Devil Wears Prada? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Enemy (2014)

Film: Enemy (2014)
Stars: Jake Gyllenhaal, Melanie Laurent, Sarah Gadon, Isabella Rossellini
Director: Denis Villeneuve
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

I have become mildly obsessed with the career of Denis Villeneuve in recent years.  As you may remember, I gave him the OVP Award for Foreign Film in 2010 for his riveting work with Incendies, but was largely cool on what was going on in Prisoners (though, again, was obsessed with what I loved and hated about that movie, so the man can make a picture that gnaws).  This is certainly the case with his most recent work, which stars another artist to obsess over, and leaves you with far more questions than answers.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film is about two men who are completely identical in every way except personality.  Adam (Gyllenhaal) is a college professor with a boring but fulfilling life (he and his wife have a routine but frequent love life if the opening scenes are any indication), who one day stumbles across a man who is identical to him in every physical way.  Slowly they begin to infiltrate each other's lives, with Anthony (also Gyllenhaal, and the other guy) finding this an opportunity for mayhem, while Adam slowly wants nothing to do with the situation.  As the film unfolds, we see Anthony trying seduce Adam's wife, and dying in a car crash as a result, while Adam starts to assume Anthony's life, only to, in one of the oddest scenes of 2014, have his new wife turn into a spider that is somehow afraid of him.

The film is difficult, and not something that you can fully comprehend upon initial viewing, at least in my opinion.  I had to let the movie ruminate a bit before I started to piece together things about the film.  For starters, the spider sequence shouldn't come as a huge surprise, as we've seen two bizarre sequences with spiders earlier in the film: one, in the opening scene, in an erotic club where a woman crushes a woman with a platform heel, and in the middle of the film, when a giant spider is seen wandering around the skyline of Toronto.  Both of these scenes are outside the realm of the actual plot of the film, which is why they're easy to dismiss, but it makes total sense that they meld in the end, likely with us either not realizing that the spiders have taken over the world (perhaps these people assume such things) or because one of our protagonists (Adam) has been the villain all along.

Forest Wickman of Slate magazine talked about how this film in many ways is "what it's like to live in a totalitarian state without knowing it."  I rather enjoyed this reading of the film in some ways, but I think it's worth exploring a bit further: I think that it may be the case that it is not the characters, but the audience who doesn't realize that we're in a totalitarian state (sorry-the film is really short and so reliant on mood and ideas that this review is about to turn into a bit of an academic criticism).  Think about it-Adam isn't at all surprised by the emergence of a spider from his new wife, but we are.  In fact, throughout the film there seems to be little acknowledgement of the spiders that are seemingly bursting forward from around the city, but it's we the audience who ignore these signs.  While it may additionally be a situation where the film is perplexing Adam and his surroundings (we never get a reasonable answer as to why the two men are identical, and it's not long lost twins as they have identical scars, which wouldn't be possible for identical twins), let's not lose that Villeneuve may be pushing us as an audience-giving us the ultimate shock that we've been suckered by this conquered world.

Those are really my thoughts on this complicated, fascinating movie that poses far more questions than answers (though I love those sorts of movies), short though they may be.  What about you-did you love or hate this movie (I could see people being in both camps)?  Does anyone else want to give a gold star to Jake Gyllenhaal's agent for continually making these fascinating movies?  And anyone have guesses on the answers for this film?  Share your thoughts in the comments!