The game’s in the name! I love movies and television, and I always try to look for the good in everything while also respecting the amount of work that goes into creating a piece of content. After years of reviewing for the Cape Cod Chronicle, I decided to start my own self-published review website where I can continue to build my skills and experience as a critic while also chronicling my love and appreciation for new and older films alike.
“A coming-of-age story about a young man’s discovery of a shattering family secret and an exploration of the power of movies to help us see the truth about each other and ourselves.”
An emotionally resonant journey that brings us through the early life of famed filmmaker Steven Spielberg, The Fabelmans shows us a fictionalized version of how the man himself became one of the most accomplished directors of all time. Through the perspective of budding moviemaker Sammy Fabelman, we get a very personal look at his family life, school days, and direct inspirations (including some anecdotes lifted straight from real life!). Movies are dreams that you never forget, and I won’t be forgetting this one anytime soon.
“An aging Chinese immigrant is swept up in an insane adventure, where she alone can save what’s important to her by connecting with the lives she could have led in other universes.”
What more can be said about Everything Everywhere All At Once? I’ve seen it five times, and it gets better with every viewing. This is a story about aging, immigration and human connection, done beautifully with the backdrop of an insane multiversal war. This film doesn’t stop for a second over its two-and-a-half-hour runtime, and whether that’s to your liking or your distaste, it commands an undeniable respect for its scale and vision.
“Paul Baumer and his friends Albert and Muller, egged on by romantic dreams of heroism, voluntarily enlist in the German army. Full of excitement and patriotic fervor, the boys enthusiastically march into a war they believe in. But once on the Western Front, they discover the soul-destroying horror of World War I.”
The third adaptation of All Quiet on the Western Front — and by far the most technically advanced — is a haunting juxtaposition between the needless loss of life in wartime and the bureaucracy that acts too slowly to make change happen when it needs to.
“In the 1980s, a team of lawyers takes on the heads of Argentina’s bloody military dictatorship in a battle against odds and a race against time.”
As hammy and procedure-ish it can feel, Argentina 1985 is an excellently rare exhibition of a systematic success and triumph over oppression. A competent script, beautifully naturalistic performances and a compelling score are just the icing on the cake.
Best Production Design & Best Sound
Best Production Design & Best Sound
“Against the darkening backdrop of New Delhi’s apocalyptic air and escalating violence, two brothers devote their lives to protecting one casualty of the turbulent times: the bird known as the black kite.”
I know they never nominate documentaries for cinematography awards, but All That Breathes stunned me on a visual level I was not prepared for. It’s more of an experience than anything else — the story feels secondary, even molded by the camera’s eye, as we’re taken for a ride that can be best described as a stellar visual treat, with a heartbreaking story to ground it in the real world, beyond the bounds of the screen.
“Following the life of artist Nan Goldin and the downfall of the Sackler family, the pharmaceutical dynasty who was greatly responsible for the opioid epidemic’s unfathomable death toll.”
We’ve gotten to the point where documentaries are incorporating news-worthy events I was actively plugged into — in this case it’s the trials involving the Sackler family and their bankruptcy bid for their company, Perdue Pharma — and All the Beauty and the Bloodshed weaves these modern events into the story of Nan Goldin and her active protest against the Sacklers. All the Beauty and the Bloodshed is a devastating takedown, showcased within a powerful personal story that speaks to both the enduring horror of controlled addiction and the perseverance of the human spirit. This is undoubtedly one of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen, and would be my personal favorite of this year’s Oscar nominees if it weren’t for Navalny.
“Models Carl and Yaya are invited for a luxury cruise with a rogues’ gallery of super-rich passengers. At first, all appears Instagrammable, but the cruise ends catastrophically and the group find themselves marooned on a desert island.”
As one might expect, Triangle of Sadness is nowhere near subtle with its messages. Everything has a point — the repeating motif of buzzing flies, the lavish production design, and the incessant use of the cell phone camera shutter sound effect, among pretty much everything else — which is impressive, to say the least. Though that care on the production side is present throughout the entire film, that effort becomes more noticeable as the events progress, eventually escalating to the ridiculous and absurd heights I expected from a two-and-a-half hour awards contender. Is it this year’s Parasite? Well, you don’t win the Palme d’Or for nothing, but it seems like these days you’re most likely to win if you’re a movie about how terrible and crazy rich people can be — especially when they come into direct conflict with those of a lower tax bracket. It can be tough to categorize exactly what the film’s attitude towards its characters is, but what’s crystal clear is that they don’t deserve salvation. It does not reject capitalism or socialism, but doesn’t endorse them either, giving us a statement beyond the par-for-the-course conclusion that “rich people are awful.” Despite how viscerally uncomfortable and explicitly gross it can get, that’s the way the world works…and we all know how difficult that is to change.
Read my review of Triangle of Sadness here.
“Set more than a decade after the events of the first film, learn the story of the Sully family (Jake, Neytiri, and their kids), the trouble that follows them, the lengths they go to keep each other safe, the battles they fight to stay alive, and the tragedies they endure.”
It would be hearsay to claim that Avatar: The Way of Water is not incredibly beautiful to look at. Every frame is rendered meticulously, and because most of what we’re seeing on-screen is composed entirely of visual effects, it’s unequivocally awe-inspiring. I also had the opportunity to see it in 3D, a medium I’m not always the biggest fan of — in fact, I was worried about subjecting myself to it for the three and a half hours this movie runs — but it seemed effortless more than anything else, like the 3D is a natural part of the world that Cameron has created. The biggest letdown was an issue that plagued the first Avatar as well: I couldn’t, for the life of me, care about most of these characters. They’re not developed nearly well enough, despite the inordinate amount of time we spend with them. For example, Jake Sully and Neytiri’s children are a major focal point of the film, and I couldn’t tell you any of their names without looking it up. The Way of Water’s story, by itself, is very interesting, but the characters are still not compelling enough to merit my investment. You’d think that after a cumulative six hours with them, I would have more of a stake in this world, but the sad truth is that the more there are, the harder it is to care. Regardless, Avatar: The Way of Water is a visual spectacle on every conceivable level, yet there’s still something lacking here in the human (or, in this case, the Na’vi) factor. Unfortunately, it’s just about as testosterone-fueled and vaguely offensive as the original, and absolutely more indulgent than it should be. A solid 192 minutes is still 192 minutes.
The score for All Quiet on the Western Front, much like the rest of the film, is haunting and unexpectedly violent. From the moment that the young protagonists are marching off to war, the unexpectedly harsh sounds of a harmonium are blown in our face, signifying that the characters have a very different idea of where they are going, and we as the audience are well aware of that. Composer Volker Bertelmann has said that his score was influenced by the “head-banging element” of Led Zeppelin, masterfully creating a further contrast between intention and appearance.
Highlights:
Justin Hurwitz’s juxtaposition of hyper swing and smooth jazz is not only aesthetically pleasing, but also beautiful to listen to, even on their own. Musical motifs, especially Manny and Nellie’s theme (various renditions of which are repeated throughout the film) are ever-present, and even harken back to Hurwitz’s themes from La La Land — which is sensible, especially considering the structural thematic parallels that are even stronger.
Highlights:
The Batman is my favorite nomination in this category — not in terms of overall quality (but I think it might crack that as well), but it’s largely because of the service it does for the superhero genre in terms of proving that technical prowess don’t need to be over-the-top to be excellent representations of their craft. In The Batman, Colin Farrell becomes the Penguin with flawless makeup and prosthetics that not only completely hide the actor’s identity, but make him fit in with the brutal, lived-in world of this Gotham City. Most of the other makeup and hairstyling is more under-the-radar, but if you want a better example of the great work that this team’s done, look up the deleted scene with Barry Keoghan’s Joker. Now that’s terrifying.
Read my review of The Batman here.
“The unlikely friendship of a boy, a mole, a fox and a horse traveling together in the boy’s search for home.”
“The Flying Sailor is based on the Halifax explosion of 1917 when two ships collided in the Halifax Harbour causing the largest accidental explosion in history. Among the tragic stories of the disaster is the remarkable account of a sailor who, blown skyward from the deck of a British cargo steamer, flew 4km before landing completely unharmed, but naked except for his boots.”
I’m not sure how convincing this is as a contemplation of life, the universe and everything, but The Flying Sailor is so gorgeously animated and well-structured that a nomination seemed inevitable. The fact that it’s based on a true story is only more impressive, and its poetic nature is even more potent when put into a real-world existential perspective.
Co-hosts Rowan Wood (occasional film critic and general enthusiast) and Davis Mathis (aspiring TV writer) take you on a journey of fun, horrible nonsense as they dive into all things movies and television.
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| Cover art by Claire Mitchell |
Davis and Rowan express their disappointment in a review for Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, as well as discuss movie social media site Letterboxd and why they love using it.
“In rural Northern Ireland, following the untimely death of their mother, a young man with Down syndrome and his estranged brother discover her unfulfilled bucket list.”
An Irish Goodbye takes the worst emotional pain one can feel — the loss of a loved one — and contextualizes it as the most conflicted mix of “drama” and “comedy” I’ve ever seen. The Academy loves its death and depression, and An Irish Goodbye tackles its subjects with care, respect and good humor, choosing to show the best outcome of an unenviable scenario with the wit and wisdom that befits the Irish.
“Ivalu is gone. Her little sister is desperate to find her and her father does not care. The vast Greenlandic nature holds secrets. Where is Ivalu?”
Ivalu takes a ponderous look at its premise, lacking in dialogue but still attempting a slow build of tension to its subtle climax. Still, the short is beautiful and scenic, showcasing stunning shots of the Greenlandic landscape, but it doesn’t land with the punch you might expect from such a buildup; lacking the depth you might hope from an Oscar-nominated short.
“The Elephant Whisperers follows an indigenous couple as they fall in love with Raghu, an orphaned elephant given into their care, and tirelessly work to ensure his recovery & survival. The film highlights the beauty of the wild spaces in South India and the people and animals who share this space.”
“On a remote coast of the Russian Arctic in a wind-battered hut, a lonely man waits to witness an ancient gathering. But warming seas and rising temperatures bring an unexpected change, and he soon finds himself overwhelmed.”
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| Image courtesy of Netflix |
Martin McDonagh has made some spectacular, and simultaneously polarizing films since he made his feature film debut with 2008’s In Bruges. Now, he’s reunited with both stars (Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson) for The Banshees of Inisherin, a dour tragicomedy, which is precisely where McDonagh’s skills lie. McDonagh, whose background is in playwriting, is highly skilled in threading the needle between darkness and humor, and it’s more evident here than it is anywhere else. Once you get past the Irish accents — trust me, it will take a moment to adjust — you’ll get hit with the genius of McDonagh’s stellar screenplay, chock-full of quotable idioms and engaging character moments that will have you contemplating for days to come, and marked direction, which immerses you beautifully in the quasi-fictional world of 1920s Ireland. I wrote in my review that “no one is better at communicating that sorrow, coupled with the funny little quirks of existence than Martin McDonagh, and Banshees is certainly him at his best.” This is one of six nominations McDonagh has received throughout his career, along with one win (in 2006, for his short film Six Shooter).
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This directing duo is nothing short of astonishing, and some of the most interesting creative minds whose work I’ve had the pleasure of seeing come to life on-screen. Nothing makes me happier, sadder and silly like Everything Everywhere All At Once, and I truly believe that the Daniels have captured lightning in a bottle. Their recognition at the awards this year is much deserved.
Lighter on the dialogue than most of these other nominees, the screenplay for All Quiet on the Western Front (co-written by director Edward Berger, writer Ian Stokell and professional athlete Lesley Paterson, and adapted from the 1929 novel by Erich Maria Remarque) is violent, upsetting, and never pulls its punches in the brutal depiction of war at its worst. The characters are flawed, but personable, and we care about them despite their allegiances to the “wrong side” of the First World War — after all, it wasn’t the fault of the soldiers, but the people in command, some of whom are spotlighted in the occasional cutaway, which transforms the film into a political drama for incremental periods of twenty-odd minutes.
Ruth Carter’s win for costuming the first Black Panther was a major victory and a big surprise when it comes to superhero films at awards shows, so it’s only sensible to see her nominated once again for Wakanda Forever — a film with less opportunities to show off lavish costumes, but with a whole batch of new characters to clothe in a vast manner of fascinating regalia. The introduction of underwater nation Talokan, led by villain Namor, offered ripe opportunities with whole new worlds to create. Other new characters like Val (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) and Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) are either costumed “normally” or dressed up entirely in a CGI creation — an issue which plagues many parts of this film (see my Visual Effects breakdown for more on that front).
One of the kookiest and zaniest scripts of the year (and perhaps one of the most ambitious of all time) is the one that made me cry, gasp and laugh the hardest I ever have at a first watch. Everything Everywhere All At Once is a visual treat, but everything starts with the script — and the Daniels know how to elicit emotion better than most. Its shocks are its strengths, but the real value lies in the passion, clearly present all over this movie.
Frantic editing is a staple of Baz Luhrmann’s films, and probably my least favorite mainstay of his. Elvis is done no less frantically, with more cuts-per-minute than I could keep up with. Still, it’s unique, and some might consider it great, so its presence in the category is not entirely surprising.
