It seems that as the race to crown this year's Academy Award-winning film for Best Picture comes to its inevitable conclusion this evening, most people are debating among three films with the greatest likelihood of taking the top prize. What's most startling, perhaps, is any attempt to prioritize these particular films. One is a technically groundbreaking space opera, another a meticulously recreated look at our shameful past destined to be taught in schools around the country. The third is a scenery-chomping whirlwind of virtuoso acting and bad 70s fashion.
On the surface, these films would seem to prioritize themselves simply based on perceived importance, and indeed, if "12 Years a Slave" walks away the winner tonight, it will be a worthy choice but also the safest choice, as the Academy has a record of crowning films it deems "important" and almost never selects science fiction or comedy. It's one of the things I like the least about the Oscars - this assumption that movies that look and feel "important" are worth more than those that take us away from our own lives and problems or expertly navigate lighter topics.
I've seen all nine of the films nominated this year, and my ballot is filled out for this evening. I got so backlogged in watching films these past few months - some 25 movies in the past eight weeks, according to my estimation - that writing the kind of thoughtful reviews I aspire to for each of them was simply not an achievable task. So what I thought I would do is rank the nine Best Picture nominees in order, not in terms of how I suspect they will finish in the voting, but based on my own personal judgments of the films. I want to try to keep my reasons brief here, but I'll also throw in a little analysis, too.
So here's my rankings of the Best Picture nominees, interestingly enough beginning with the shortest of the nine and ending with the longest, and going from the most excitingly fresh and groundbreaking to the most familiar (though still exciting). Included next to each title is my original grade for each film. As you can see, I liked a lot of movies this year, and despite the fact that I would have liked to see a few other films make the list ("Blue Jasmine," "Fruitvale Station"), the nominees this year feel worthy.
1. "Gravity" (A+)
The list is growing of people who are seeing "Gravity" and saying that it feels slight or that it's not really about anything or that it's all tech and no soul. As the list grows, so too does the list of people I have to respectfully disagree with, because to me, all of the technological wizardry of the film - and yes, that's in every frame - acts in service of a story with deep humanity and profound spirituality, rather than overshadowing it.
Alfonso Cuaron's seemingly untethered camera not only helps to get us the closest most of us will ever get (or want to get) to what space is really like, but it symbolizes the spiritual homelessness of Sandra Bullock's Ryan Stone, an astronaut stranded in space with nothing to look forward to returning to Earth for except the possibility of her own rebirth. It's the year's most brilliant film not only because of how the production values serve the story, but because of how the film's brief running time and sparse script give viewers the opportunity to experience insane levels of dramatic and visual intensity as well as time to contemplate their own belief in themselves.
2. "Her" (A+)
People who don't like "Her" are stuck on the weirdness of the film's central plot conceit - that in the very near future, a man like Joaquin Phoenix's lonely Theodore would develop romantic feelings for the operating system that controls his smart phone or computer. And if that's all the film was really about, then I would be inclined to agree that "Her" is too odd and too creepy to be enjoyed. But I think people who dismiss the movie for those reasons are missing what I feel is the film's true purpose.
To me, "Her" is not a romantic comedy between a nerdy loner and his personal device. I believe that Spike Jones' haunting vision of the very-near future is, instead, a ringing of the death knell signaling the demise of interpersonal communication in a world where people text each other while sitting across the table from one another, one where society's greatest fear evolves from the fear of public speaking in the formal sense of presenting to an audience of many to a more primal and immediate version of glossophobia that finds us even more terrified of speaking to an audience of one.
One of the most brilliant aspects of the film, in fact, gets buried in the analysis of the film's odd romance; did anyone else notice that Theodore's job is to write letters for other people? They are fairly innocuous letters, too. It's a sad, lonely future where people can no longer express themselves if there's a chance that the person on the receiving end of that expression is made of flesh and blood. And while all of this sounds horribly depressing, it's Phoenix's fully human portrayal and Jones' observant script that turn the film into a movie that is also often sweet. So disarmingly so, in fact, that you start to like this man and his computer as a couple, thereby bringing the analysis of the film full-circle and back to the idea of how bizarre the whole concept was to begin with. I think, though, that we're wigged out by it not because it's creepy, but because it's so entirely possible.
3. "Nebraska" (A)
Alexander Payne is my go-to guy for grounded verite with lovingly comical edges, and he's firmly at the top of the list of directors whose films I look forward to. Shot in gorgeous black and white, a decision that reflects the normalcy of the lives of the characters who inhabit its story, "Nebraska" sneaks up on you like no other film nominated here. The center of the story is Woody Grant, an elderly alcoholic from Montana trying to convince his family that a trip to Nebraska to retrieve a supposed sweepstakes prize received via a piece of junk mail is a worthy trip.
But for me, "Nebraska" is really the story of his family - and in particular his son David (Will Forte) - trying so desperately to afford a man who's suffered a string of disappointments in his life even the slightest shred of dignity near the end of it, a Herculean act of selflessness and love interrupted by real-world frustrations that most frequently surface in the form of barbs slung Woody's way via the acid-laced sarcasm of his weary wife, Kate.
"Nebraska" reminds us that life is truly about the journey, not the destination. Bruce Dern, June Squibb, Will Forte and Bob Odenkirk are all tremendous as the core of a family dealing with the anything but coincidental appearance of distant relatives and former friends who believe there's suddenly a substantial amount of money to borrow.
4. "Philomena" (A)
"Philomena" and "12 Years a Slave" are probably the most traditional kinds of films in terms of what is typically perceived as an Oscar-winner. But I found myself pleasantly surprised by the warm humor and effective pathos of this real-life story of an Irish woman who gives birth as a teenager and watches her son given away against her will to an American family for adoption, thereafter taking a vow of silence on the issue for 50 years, until a down-on-his-luck reporter looking for a subject for an attention-grabbing human interest story is placed in her path.
This is sincere, irony-free film making with an affecting script by co-star Steve Coogan and an unforgettable performance by Dame Judi Dench to add to her already lengthy list of unforgettable performances. It's a film that is modestly critical of the Catholic church without ever really offending it and a reminder for those in the journalism profession like myself that every human being has a story to tell that is worth hearing.
5. "12 Years a Slave" (A)
I'm sure you're wondering how I could place the most "important" movie of 2013 squarely in the middle of this year's nominees, especially when the film is the most likely to walk away with the prize. The answer, though, is actually fairly simple. More than that, I can give you multiple answers. For starters, you should take note that I very much liked most of the films on this list, giving "12 Years" the same rating as two films above this and the one following. To some extent, there's a bit of a tie atop my rankings. But I placed Steve McQueen's brutal slavery saga here almost solely based on re-watchability. And the fact is, I don't see myself wanting to fill up a few lazy hours on a day off with another viewing of this film, however masterful, powerful and affecting it is - because it is all of those things and more. I keep a list of movies that are "so powerful that I'm not sure I'd want to watch them again," and this movie certainly goes on that list for me.
I don't buy into the notion that "12 Years a Slave" is "torture porn," or a film made so that white audience could take pride in subjecting themselves to a few hours of cathartic white guilt. I've read words to that effect and am highly offended for my African American friends, some of whom say they have never seen an onscreen depiction of their difficult past so effectively rendered as it was here. And besides, this film was deftly directed by McQueen, a man who knows the power of a lingering shot as well as the power of the edit. There is no question that the moment when the mesmerizing Chiwitel Ejiofor is shown hanging from a tree in the foreground while plantation life continues - seemingly unaffected - behind him is the most chilling and cringe-worthy moment on film this year. And the performances, most memorably led by the gut-punching work of Oscar-nominated Lupita Nyong'o are stellar.
"12 Years a Slave" was not a "perfect" movie to me, though I would be far less critical of adding it to my Best Picture shelf than I was of last year's "Argo." But if I'm being perfectly honest, watching the movie feels a lot like eating your vegetables. They're good for you, and you need to eat them, but there are other things that taste better. That's the subject matter, of course. But it's also how I felt. Not that any of the movies I ranked higher will be taught in schools like "Schindler's List" for decades to come, as this one most certainly will.
6. "Captain Phillips" (A)
I believe that a botched ending can ruin a whole movie. The brilliance of "Captain Phillips" was an ending that actually elevated the entire film. For two hours, director Paul Greengrass gives you basically everything you expect, given his style as a director, the intense action synonymous with his work, and the well-known real-life story and now famous outcome of the ocean freighter boarded by Somali pirates in 2009. The film ratchets up in intensity on cue and Tom Hanks is the everyman you want him to be. The editing brilliantly shapes effective performances out of the band of amateurs Greengrass surrounds Hanks with, like the Oscar-nominated Barkhad Abdi, even as it accompanies the movie's pounding soundtrack to speed up the pace.
But in the film's final half-hour, Greengrass' nail-biter improves and improves with each passing minute, making it not only every bit as stress-inducing as "Gravity" but as emotionally impactful as anything I've seen this year. Perhaps the greatest coup of all is that in the film's final minutes, Hanks gives a performance that tops his storied career - and he wasn't even nominated for his efforts.
7. "Dallas Buyers Club" (B)
Taken as a whole, "Dallas Buyers Club" is as solid as a very good HBO original movie, which is no insult, but also an honest critique about a movie that is much more about acting and story than it ever is about a director's choices. But oh, those actors. Matthew McConaughey's brave work as a homophobic man diagnosed with AIDS in 1985 stands with Tom Hanks' work in "Philadelphia" as a physical on-screen embodiment of the disease at a time when effective treatments were fleeting and ignorance was rampant. And as Rayon, a fictional foil created to intensify the drama of the real-life Ron Woodroof, actor-turned-rocker-turned-back-to-actor Jared Leto is equally tough and sympathetic as a transvestite who partners with Woodroof to distribute then-experimental drugs to people (mostly men) living with AIDS.
Most of the tea leaves are predicting that both men will walk home tonight with golden statues in their hands, and I wouldn't have a bad word to say about either choice. One performance signals that a long-languishing romantic comedy actor is ready for the second act of his career. The other is equally a portrait of someone who might never been taken seriously in the past who must now be respected. The story is a little paint-by-numbers, but it's a story that burns itself into your brain.
8. "American Hustle" (B-)
To me, this was the most overrated film of the year, so lopsided in execution that this year's best performance ensemble on screen almost fully buries the film's plot as it cuts from one delightfully scenery-chomping interchange to the next. Christian Bale and Amy Adams are at the top of their games. Bradley Cooper erases doubts that last year's Oscar nomination for "Silver Linings Playbook" was no joke by following it up here with another, again at the hands of director/writer David O. Russell. And Jennifer Lawrence, who won Best Actress last year for the aforementioned "Playbook," is so damned good here that I honestly felt a pang of sadness whenever her character wasn't on the screen.
My biggest problem with "American Hustle" is that if you ask me what the movie was about, (the film is loosely based on a real-life scandal from the 70s), all I can recall are specific scenes and moments - exchanges between different combinations of actors that were darkly hilarious and/or emotionally riveting. But I felt no lasting impact with regards to the story as a whole, making "American Hustle" the kind of movie I tend to designate as a "brilliant mess." Any of the acting performances nominated would be worthy of their prizes, and indeed, the film joins a very short list of films nominated in all four acting categories. But aside from the costumes and production design, I can't think of any other awards the movie truly deserves. I certainly don't think it's Best Picture material.
9. "The Wolf of Wall Street" (C)
The hot debate is whether or not "The Wolf of Wall Street" is a successful or failed satire in terms of its depiction of the real-life Jordan Belfort, a coke-fueled stock broker who seemed to go up and up and up with few downs that money couldn't fix. I thought it was the latter, failing in that its protagonist never appeared to second-guess himself and his increasingly despicable practices.
But more than that, the film is B-grade Scorsese. Though it's constantly exciting to watch and Leonardo DiCaprio arguably gives the greatest performance of his career, the film makes its point quickly and then makes the same point over and over and over again - for three hours. The examples of Belfort's ostentatious lifestyle and limitless greed are fast established in one of the most consistently hilarious films of Martin Scorsese's storied career. But the film also devolves regularly to the edges of pornography and the story wanders around and repeats itself. In its worst moments, "The Wolf of Wall Street" feels like a cinematic circle jerk, an inside joke between the director, his new favorite leading man, and their band of frat brothers. And I don't see Scorsese doing anything here that he hasn't already done (and done better) in films like "Casino" and "Goodfellas."
Its production is so lavish and its tone so exuberant that I can't for the life of me see how anyone could watch the movie and see a condemnation of anything. To me, its pure romanticism, and it glorifies Belfort's lifestyle with example after example, never taking the story to another place. But perhaps what's most maddening of all about the film is the fact that it is so damned entertaining and funny so frequently, that I can't simply dismiss it as a terrible film. Maybe the movie's lasting legacy is that it stands as proof of the auteur theory that the worst movies by an auteur director are still better than the best movies by others.
So that's how I see it. Feel free to post your reactions and comments. And now it's time for me to give my final predictions a final look before I settle in for what I hope is a great show. I'm not putting any money down this year, so I expect a lower number of correct responses as I take a few risks, just for the fun of it. I'll be weighing in, no doubt, on my Facebook page and on my Twitter, @Carlson451.
