2022
OSCAR NOMINATIONS
When Jordan Peele’s third, and best, film,
“Nope” was released in July, the reviews proclaimed it as brilliant, stunning,
frightening and hilarious. The acting, writing, directing, cinematography,
production values were profusely lauded by virtually every publication. I found
all the praise a bit over-the-top, but it is a very good film.
I foolishly assumed that the movie, Peele,
his go-to leading man Daniel Kaluuya and maybe Keke Palmer, playing his spunky,
savvy sister would be nominated. Nope. The picture didn’t receive a single
nomination. (I didn’t even see it mentioned in stories identifying so-called snubs.)
Yet an actress, Andrea Riseborough, whose
name and the 2022 film she starred in, “To Leslie,” I read of for the first
time only a few days before the nominations were announced (though, it turns
out, I have seen her in many films) was among the best actress nominees. From
all reports, she scored the nomination after voters were influenced by high
praise from Gwyneth Paltrow and Edward Norton, among others. Nothing wrong with
that, but I wonder if many of those who voted for her had seen this
little-known film.
To say the nominations for “Triangle of Sadness”
and its director Ruben Östlund are surprising is an understatement. This Danish
film, though primarily in English, on the surface resembles a Luis Buňuel or
Lina Wertmüller picture from the 1970s, far from 21st Century
Hollywood. It’s attempts at lampooning Western capitalism is about a subtle as
a roomful of monkeys. (I’ll expand upon its failures in a later edition of the
blog). It seems that the expanded Oscar voting contingent couldn’t resist a
Palme d’Or winner.
Yet, astonishing to me, Alejandro González
Iňárritu’s “Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths” was passed over
except for its cinematography. It was the best film in any language I saw in
2022.
Also complete shut out was the superb “She
Said,” about the investigation into movie mogul Harvey Weinstein’s criminal
treatment of women. Instead, a rather bland picture in the #MeToo category,
“Women Talking” was among the best picture nominees. Also deserving more
consideration (I assumed a best picture nomination, at least) was “The Woman
King” and the film’s stars Viola Davis and Lashana Lynch.
I was happy to see Colin Farrell, Barry
Keoghan and Kerry Condon from “The Banshees of Inisherin” earn acting nods, but
the number of nominations for the film says everything about how weak 2022
releases were.
I acknowledge the technical accomplishments
of “Avatar: The Way of Water,” and “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” but I
have no interest in them as films. And I don’t know what to say about “Elvis,”
other than it’s an embarrassing piece of fiction trying to pass as bio-pic.
Amusingly, virtually every publication offered
congratulations to the voters for including a handful of box office hits in the
best picture selections as if that is the measure of what the Academy Awards
should stand for. It should not be about helping ABC charge more for the Oscar
ads, but celebrating the best in film, be it “Tár,” “To Leslie” or “Top Gun:
Maverick.”
Here’s my current Top 10 of English-language films, though I’m still
trying to catch up with various movies that barely receive theatrical releases
(who said streaming would make it easier to keep up?). A more detailed list
will follow.
1.
Tár
(Todd Field)
2.
She
Said (Maria Schrader)
3.
Nope
(Jordan Peele)
4.
Top
Gun: Maverick (Joseph Kosinski)
5.
The
Banshees of Inisherin (Martin McDonagh)
6.
The
Fabelmans (Steven Spielberg)
7.
The
Woman King (Gina Prince-Bythewood)
8.
Glass
Onion: A Knives Out Mystery
(Rian Johnson)
9.
The
Pale Blue Eye (Scott Cooper)
10. Empire
of Light (Sam Mendes)
BARDO:
FALSE CHRONICLE OF A HANDFUL OF TRUTHS (2022)
There isn’t a more inventive, more
insightful filmmaker working today. In his new movie, Alejandro González
Iňárritu, having already directed two of the best films of the century,
“Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)” and “The Revenant,” continues
his exploration into what keeps us going despite life’s numerous and unexpected
obstacles.
In “Bardo,” Iňárritu protagonist,
Mexican-American journalist/documentarian Silverio (Daniel Giménez-Cacho),
returns to his hometown of Mexico City to celebrate with old friends and
relatives his upcoming award from the American Society of Journalists and the
premiere of his new doc. In the grand tradition of magic realism, the director
flits between reality, Silverio’s dreams and scenes from his documentary work,
slipping from one to the other without warning, capturing Silverio’s
frustration about the state of his homeland, his divided emotional loyalty
between his U.S. career and his devotion to Mexico and fulfilling his roles of
husband, father, son and public figure.
Early in the film, Silverio returns to
the television studio where he started his career to be interviewed on a show
hosted by old friend Luis (Francisco Rubio). With the camera swirling behind
him, we witness the chaotic business of Mexican TV, where multiple shows are
filming on various stages and then his so-called friend mercilessly grilling
him…until it’s clear this is all in Silverio’s imagination.
The centerpiece of the picture depicts the
massive party thrown in Silverio’s honor, where he has it out with Luis,
reunites with friends and relatives, celebrates with his wife and children and,
finally, imagines meeting his late father, who is surprised how old his son
looks. “Age comes without warning and then it’s a full-time job,” the deceased
man tells his son. “Nobody ever warns you about it.”
Giménez-Cacho creates such a lived-in,
sincere Silverio that you’d swear you’ve known the man for years; he’s not so
much humble but baffled to know what he’s responsible for, where his
obligations should be.
The film hasn’t received the acclaim it
deserves as many reviews (and apparently Oscar voters) found it pretentious and
indulgent. It probably is—just look at the title. (Bardo is a state of
existence between death and rebirth in Buddhism; the subtitle is the name of
Silverio’s documentary)
“Bardo” might come off as a preachy, smug
tale of a self-consumed filmmaker (Silverio and Iňárritu) but it also offers
more truth about the second half of life than any film I’ve seen in a
while.
BABYLON
(2022)
Dante’s nine circles of hell pales in
comparison to Damien Chazelle’s chaotic, unrelentingly ostentatious depiction
of the 1920s Hollywood sinful filmmaking community and the comeuppance that
sound delivered.
From its opening scene, the transporting
of an elephant to what’s portrayed as a typical gathering of movie people (more
orgy than party), to the sophomoric video collage ending that offers up the
magic of the cinema as an excuse for the three hours of excess, the picture
overflows with doomed characters doing bad things under the influence of art.
As much as I disliked Chazelle’s more acclaimed films—“Whiplash” (2014) and “La
La Land” (2016)—they didn’t prepare me for this madhouse mess, which ranks as
one of the most unpleasant moviegoing experiences I’ve had in years. If it had
been 90 minutes, I’d call it a disappointment; at 3 hours and 9 minutes, it’s
an unmitigated disaster.
The
story revolves around the careers of two actors, Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt), a
matinee idol who seems to be modeled after John Gilbert, and Nellie LaRoy
(Margot Robbie), a drug-addled, amoral party-crasher (maybe Clara Bow) who
lucks into stardom. The connection between the two is Manny Torres (Mexican
actor Diego Calva), a young Latino who advances from Conrad’s assistant to
studio exec by spotting money-making trends.
While the scenes of silent filmmaking are
entertaining, even when ridiculous, and capture the seat-of-the-pants approach
to the business in the early days, Chazelle is clearly more interested in the
difficulties, for both individuals and the process, once “The Jazz Singer”
becomes a hit.
With the unfocused energy of first grader
on a sugar high, Robbie roars through this film, a force of nature that’s
wasted in a film going nowhere. Every
time I wanted to sympathize with Nellie, she does something so unbelievably
stupid that I was rooting for her downfall. Chazelle’s script isn’t satisfied
with just parodying the arrogance of Hollywood—its racism, its sexism, its
elitism—but exaggerates everything until it loses its bite.
Near the end, when the audience is
exhausted from the visual and auditory (this film is extraordinarily loud)
assault it has endured, Tobey Maguire shows up as a L.A. mobster who takes
Manny and his friend on a tour of the twisted decadence that has replaced the
now-sanitized movie scene. Clearly, the director has seen too many David
Cronenberg films.
As unwatchable as that sequence is, when
the film then fast-forwards to the 1950s, Chazelle offering a maudlin flashback
of the story’s highlights (almost like a trailer placed at the end of the film)
and a recap of the history of film. While it’s foolish for me to imagine I
understand Chazelle’s thinking, the ending has the pretense of something made
to conclude a grand statement on movie making. Whatever the motivation, it’s an
embarrassing, if appropriate, ending to this bloated, misguided picture.
WANDA
(1970)
Not to beat a dead horse, but I’ve been
watching some of the films on Sight & Sound’s Top 100 that had previously
missed my attention, including this low-budget indie written, directed and
starring Barbara Loden.
Like so many films of that era—“Brewster
McCloud,” “Five Easy Pieces,” “I Never Sang for My Father,” “I Walk the Line,”
“Loving,” “Rabbit, Run,” “WUSA” to name just a few from 1970—this picture feels
as much like a documentary of the times as a fictional tale. Shot in the
depressed area of Scranton, Pa., and other small towns in Eastern Pennsylvania,
the story follows Wanda (Loden) as she escapes a marriage (and two children)
she has no interest in and hooks up with a small-time criminal on the run.
Unfortunately, to my mind, Wanda is not a
feisty, independent, liberated woman to match the confused male rebels that
filled early ‘70s Hollywood pictures, but a hopeless victim who puts up with
abuse—verbal and physical—from this lowlife she barely knows and joins him in
crime without much argument.
Loden never made another feature
(directing two short films in 1975) and only made two more acting appearances
after “Wanda.” She was best known as the discovery of director Elia Kazan,
winning the Tony Award for her performance in his “After the Fall” and scoring
good reviews as the sister in Kazan’s film “Splendor in the Grass” (1961).
Loden was married to Kazan from 1967 until her death of cancer in 1980 at the
age of 48.
While the story goes nowhere, “Wanda”
benefits from its doc-like realism and its off-the-cuff manner, and, in
retrospect, would probably deserve a spot in that year’s Top 20. But the rarity
of a female independent filmmaker has raised the film’s stakes, propelling it
into a tie for the 48th greatest film ever made.
Ironically (or pointedly), Kazan’s two
masterpieces, “A Streetcar Named Desire” (1951) and “On the Waterfront” (1954),
elevating Marlon Brando to the pinnacle of screen acting, failed to make the
esteemed Top 100 list.
James Cameron has directed—or more
accurately constructed—three of the most popular motion pictures in history.
His place in the annals of entertainment is secure, even if he has more in
common with a designer of amusement park rides than a filmmaker.
Not to make much of the plot, as few who
witness this production care about the story, the sequel to the 2009 original
follows Jake (Sam Worthington) and Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) and their look-alike
children who find themselves hunted by a small special military unit of
earthlings looking to squash the rebellious Na’vi complicating the takeover of
Pandora.
Soon the family is forced to flee their
community, taking refuge with another species on the planet who can breathe
underwater. What happens with the Na’vi people is anyone’s guess.
The main attraction is the underwater scenes
as the azure people learn the ways of the greenish people. In fact, the most
interesting character in the film is an old, injured whale.
It should be in the running for the year’s
best animated film along with “Pinocchio.”
GLASS
ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY (2022)
After years as the tough-as-nails legend
James Bond, Daniel Craig, in his second outing as deceptively humble Southern
detective Benoit Blanc, has proven his comedy chops playing this farcical
sleuth who sees through every suspect, every alibi.
In “Knives Out” (2019), Blanc faced a
houseful of greedy relatives at each other’s throats in the wake of a
patriarch’s apparent suicide. In the new concoction by writer-director Rian
Johnson sends his brilliant detective to a Greek island getaway, a guest (or
maybe intruder) at the gaudy home (the Glass Onion) of the genius businessman
Miles Bron (Edward Norton at his best) along with Bron’s four (well, maybe
five) oldest friends.
Bron, an extreme egotist who represents
everything repulsive about the excessively wealthy, has innocently brought this
group together for a fun, relaxing made-up murder mystery in which he is the pseudo
victim. When that plan—written, he tells Blanc, by “Gone Girl” novelist Gillian
Flynn—quickly peters out, a real death intervenes.
But it’s the presence of Andi (singer Janelle Monáe) that most upsets Bron and his old pals (played by Kate Hudson, Leslie Odom Jr., Dave Bautista and Kathryn Hahn) as she recently lost her half of the company in court when they all backed Bron’s version of events.
What makes this tale interesting is what
happens about an hour and fifteen minutes into the film: Johnson restarts it,
allowing the audience to see events through Blanc’s eyes and discover what’s
really going on. It’s a trick that the writer-director pulls off deftly.
Like “Knives Out,” the script is
overflowing in cleverness, filled with verbal and physical gags, including
finding laughs with allusions to Jeremy Renner, Jared Leto, “The Big Lebowski,”
the harpsicord music of Agatha Christie movies, Tom Cruise, Hugh Grant (in an
actual appearance) and a touching tribute to the musical theater. (It’s worth a
second viewing, if you have Netflix, to catch all the glib dialogue.)
Despite first-rate performances by Craig (channeling
a combination of Clouseau and Columbo) and Norton (a bit of Elon Musk, a bit of
Steve Jobs), Monáe nearly steals the picture as a woman who must play games to
find a bit of justice. She was impressive as Mahershala Ali’s girlfriend in
“Moonlight,” but this is a more complex, delicate performance that deserved
Oscar consideration.
“Glass Onion” is filled with too many
moving parts yet Johnson somehow manages to bring them together, juggling these
ridiculous characters and their comic interactions (at one point, Hudson’s
character screams: “What is reality?”) and a serious murder mystery that finds
a way to compare itself to the Mona Lisa.
WOMEN
TALKING (2022)
Good intensions don’t always equate to a
good movie. Actress-turned-director Sarah Polley’s spare tale of a crisis in a
religious community plays like an off-Broadway play that has little chance of
moving uptown. It presents a slice of the story that cries for a wider viewpoint.
A handful of the women gather in the upper
floor of a barn after a vote of the females in the community failed to
determine a response to the arrest of a man for rape. In fact, various men have
been getting away with rape and sexual assault on the women for years, blaming
the attacks on ghosts or the dreams and hysteria of the women.
At this point, I had a problem: This isn’t
the 16th Century when men could take advantage of ignorance and the
general acceptance of the supernatural. This contemporary story wants me to
believe—even if it is based on actual events--that these women just figured out
they (and their children!) were being regularly abused by the men of the
community, yet they are intelligent enough to have long conversations on the
moral consequences of their decision.
Beyond the believability factor, the
debate quickly grows repetitious and tiresome. And, fittingly, the conclusion
makes little sense, even when taken as a metaphor for the suffering of women
over the millenniums.
I’m still stunned that it earned a best
picture and best screenplay nominations. It addresses an important subject, but
not very convincingly.
If “Women Talking” was going to be honored
by the Academy, I would have guessed it would be for the performances: Claire
Foy, unforgettable as Queen Elizabeth in the first two seasons of “The Crown,”
and Jessie Buckley, nominated in 2021 for “The Lost Daughter,” both do
memorable work as leaders of the debate.
It’s very impressive that Polley walked away
(or put on pause) a very promising acting career to become a director; her
“Away from Here,” starring Julie Christie as a woman suffering from
Alzheimer’s, was one of the best films of 2006. I expect many more fine films
from Polley, but I don’t think “Women Talking” is one of them.
PLEASE
MURDER ME! (1956)
Just a year before he became the most
iconic defense lawyer in television history, Raymond Burr played an attorney
who finds himself being scammed by a diabolical client he loves.
“Please Murder Me!” defines low budget
noir, with minimal sets, choppy editing and stiff acting other than Burr and
co-star Angela Lansbury, but the plot, if not for its bleak ending, would have
made a clever Erle Stanley Gardner mystery.
It opens, before credits, with a man
walking a dark street and into a pawn shop, where he purchases a gun. He stops
a taxi and while the camera focuses on the gun in his hand, the cheap looking,
minimal credits pop onto the screen.
It’s only when the man enters his office
that it’s clear it’s Burr as Craig Carlson. The lawyer begins dictating the
story on a reel-to-reel tape recorder for the district attorney: “I’m going to
be murdered in 55 minutes….”
Flashback to a few weeks earlier, when he
reveals to his wartime buddy Joe (Dick Foran) that Craig has fallen in love
with his wife and they want to be married.
The picture drags a bit once it becomes a
courtroom drama, a battle between the soon-to-be Perry Mason and the district
attorney (John Dehner, one of the most distinctive supporting players in film
and TV through the 1980s). But after the trial, Craig receives a letter Joe
wrote the day he died, which turns the story into a bitter, deadly battle of
wills in its final 30 minutes.
Director Peter Godfrey (“Christmas in
Connecticut,” “The Two Mrs. Carrolls”) spent most of his career doing B films,
but “Please Murder Me!”—his last feature before moving to TV work---might be
his most stylish picture, with most of the scenes, outside the courtroom,
brimming over with doom.
Lansbury has her moments but isn’t the
perfect choice for this femme fatale role that cries for the toughness that
actresses Lizabeth Scott or Audrey Totter would have brought to the film.
For Burr, this was one of at least six
features he made in 1956 (including the American version of “Godzilla: King of
the Monsters!”) before beginning the role that defined his career. He shows in
“Please Murder Me!” that he’s more than capable in what’s a rare lead
performance for this expert in playing menacing supporting characters in such
film noirs as “Desperate,” “Raw Deal” and “Pitfall” and for Alfred Hitchcock in
“Rear Window.”
THE
WHALE (2022)
This claustrophobic, hard-to-watch one-set
picture, based on a stage play by Samuel D. Hunter, offers a slice in the life
of an obese English professor who remains in mourning for his deceased partner.
The real drama is watching Charlie (Brendan
Fraser, weighted down with prosthetic fat) struggle to get in and out of his
chair while fending off two of the most irritating characters you’ll likely to
encounter in a movie. While his daughter (Sadie Sink) uses her troubled father
to improve her grades, offering little sympathy for him, a persistent,
misguided missionary (Ty Simpkins) from a local Christian group keeps harassing
the too-generous Charlie.
The cast also includes a blunt-speaking
nurse (Hong Chau, who was so memorable in “Downsizing”) and Charlie’s ex-wife
(Samantha Morton), both more interesting than the main characters.
Director Darren Aronofsky specializes in extremes
and mentally and physically challenged characters, including “Requiem for a
Dream” (2000), “The Wrestler” (2008), “Black Swan” (2010) and “Mother!” (2017).
Mickey Rourke in “The Wrestler” and
Natalie Portman in “Black Swan” earned well-deserved Oscar nominations (she
won) under Aronofsky’s direction, but in his latest, Fraser, who hasn’t had a
first-rate role since “The Quiet American” (2002), gives a good but
unexceptional performance. But, of course, he scored an Oscar nod.
Barbara Loden in "Wanda" (Criterion Collection)
Daniel Craig and Janelle Monáe in "Glass Onion" (Netfliex)
