Oscar Nominated Shorts: Animated

Dear Basketball: B
Negative Space: B+
LOU:A
Revolting Rhymes Part One: B+
Garden Party: B+ ["Highly Commended"]
Lost Property Office: B
Weeds B
Achoo: B- Dear Basketball (USA, 6 minutes) precipitated a fair amount of humor on Twitter about basketball player Kobe Bryant somehow becoming an Academy Award nominee -- because he wrote and narrates the poem that makes up the audio of this entire short. I don't particularly see any pressing reason to make fun of it. I have close to zero interest in basketball, sure, but I can still recognize sincerity when I see it. This isn't the greatest poem in the world, but that's beside the point. This is effectively evocative with its animated pencil drawings and earnest delivery. Negative Space (France, 5 minutes) is a light hearted little stop motion short, with rather odd looking characters that sort of look like papier-mâché, about a boy who learned how to pack suitcases from his father. This one kind of touched me in a personal way because my stepmother also taught me how to maximize space in luggage by rolling up my clothes. This kid has a few more rules, hence the aversion to "negative space" used inefficiently, which serves as a cute little punch line at the very end. LOU (USA, 7 minutes) is far from the longest short in this year's group of nominees, but, it should come as no surprise that as the Pixar submission, it's easily the strongest. This one, about stolen toys come to life to teach a playground bully a lesson, has charmes that practically leap off the screen. Here Pixar continues its knack for presenting stories that are equal parts enchanting and moving. Revolting Rhymes Part One (UK, 29 minutes) is based on a story by Roald Dahl, and is thus a suitably twisted mashup take on several fairy tales at once: Little Red Riding Hood (who here becomes a vengeful badass); Snow White; and the Three Pigs. The story is narrated by the wolf who has lost his two nephews, and we find out how that happened. This one is by far the longest of the animated shorts, but with a pacing that never lulls, it remains engaging and fun from beginning to end. I might be more tempted to dismiss Garden Party (France, 7 minutes), if not for its stunning, photorealistic animation. It's mostly of frogs, each of them lazily exploring what increasingly becomes clear is an abandoned mansion whose inhabitant has been shot and killed. Thus, it goes from peaceful and beautiful to dark and disturbing pretty quickly. Lost Property Office (Australia, 10 minutes), the first of the "Highly Commended" shorts used as filler to stretch the full prohram to a barely feature length 83 minutes, is another stop motion short, this one in black and white with impressively detailed, art deco cityscapes. It's just a man who ultimately gets laid off and finds a way to turn all the junk he works with into an escape, but it does have its charms. Weeds (USA, 3 minutes) is the shortest of all the shorts here, but as a brief parable about "daring to dream," does wind up being memorable, as we watch a dandelion struggle to escape the fatally dry and hot part of a sidewalk and make it to where a nearby sprinkler hits. Short as it is, it's easy to see this one only barely missing out on getting an Oscar nomination, particularly considering its crisply rendered animation. Achoo (France, 7 minutes), on the other hand, is easily the weakest of all offerings here, and it's too bad it gets presented last instead of allowing something strong to be used for going out with a bang. At least there is a "bang" here, as it tells us how fireworks were created -- by a dragon with a cold. The animation here is well done, but the story is somewhat weak, and I can't really decide how I feel about the rendering of the one Chinese human character, who is a little too much of a caricature, even for a cartoon.

Overall: B+

Oscar Nominated Shorts: Live Action

DeKalb Elementary: B+
The Silent Child: B+
My Nephew Emmett: A-
The Eleven O'Clock: B+
Watu Wote / All of Us: A- DeKalb Elementary (USA, 21 minutes) is an impressively tense short film for how spare it is in production design: a possible school shooter walks in with a gun, and all we ever see for all 21 minutes of the run time is the reception area where the young man spends his time. We never know whether he might actually shoot someone, but soon learn he has mental issues an is off his meds, and the entirely black staff, particularly an unlucky woman covering reception just for the day, helps talk him down. All of the action takes place exclusively in this one room, but the characters each effectively evoke their individual worlds outside of it. What The Silent Child (UK, 20 minutes) lacks in resolution, it makes up for in messaging: this is about a little deaf girl whose parents don't quite understand the importance of teaching her sign language, and the young teacher who tries in vain to explain it to them. We learn at the end of this filn that while 90% of deaf children are born to hearing parents, 78% of deaf children attend hearing schools. This film has little chance of winning the Oscar, given the racially charged political climate tipping the odds in favor of the several shorts that address racial issues, but for this one, the win is truly just in getting nominated -- exposure to these issues is the key. This is the first of four shorts out of those nominated that shows footage of the cast and crew learning of their nomination. This one is well deserved, and in all cases it's fun and touching to see the filmmakers so excited. My Nephew Emmett (USA, 20 minutes) features a very slow and deliberate pace, and eases us into the realization that it's based on the true story of Emmett Till, a young black man murdered in Mississippi or simply whistling at a white woman. His 64-year-old uncle tries, ultimately in vain, to protect this boy visiting from Chicago where social mores are a little different. Soon enough to white man arrive at the house, armed, leaving the residents of the home powereless to stop them from taking the young man away. Needless to say, this one is a bit of a downer in the end, but it's no less powerful for it, and is the strongest short film among these five. It would get my vote for the Oscar. Every year there has to be at least one live action short that is more light-hearted and fun, lest the whole bunch of them lure us al into a deep depression. The Eleven O'Clock (Australia, 13 minutes) is this year's example, a comic story of a psychiatrist seeing a patient who is convinced he is himself a pyschiatrist. It quickly becomes clear that we, the viewer, do not know exactly who truly is the psychiatrist and who is the patient. The inevitable twist at the end could not be more predictable, but the film is still a worthy bit of a good time. Watu Wote / All of Us (Germany / Kenya, 22 minutes) closes out this year's live action set with what turns out to be the true story of a bus raided by Muslim extremists on the border between Kenya and Somalia. When the one Chrisian woman on the bus, whose husband and baby were previously killed by Muslims and thus made her deeply hateful, is protected by all the Muslims on board, it's tempting to feel the story is a little contrived. But, then you learn that this is based on true events, and it becomes more genuinely affecting. There's still a slight note of "can't we all just get along" to the proceedings, tense as they are, and it's also tempting to roll one's eyes at that. But once this relatively brief story is done being told, it proves more moving than expected. Overall: B+

THE COMMUTER

Directing: B
Acting: B
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B-
Editing: B+

When an action movie comes along with a name as dumb as The Commuter, you certainly don't expect it to be surprisingly clever from the start. But, I rather liked the way we are introduced to Michael MacCauley (Liam Neeson), in a pleasant montage of his morning routine -- barely moving forward from the same moment each day, from several instances of him waking up in bed at 6 a.m. until we see him riding his commuter train to work. We see varying degrees of his relationship with his wife (Elizabeth McGovern, criminally underused) and son.

And then one day, along comes this unfamiliar lady on the train, played with controlled sinisterness by Vera Fermiga. Farmiga is herself a strong, memorable presence, and even she doesn't get enough screen time. It's fun to see her as a villain.

And, sure, the concept is as dumb as it seems. This woman, who introduces herself as Joanna, proposes MacCauley find a bag of money in the bathroom, by doing so agreeing to the proposition before him: find the person on the train who "doesn't belong," who goes by "Prim," and plant a tracking device on their bag. Supposedly, that's it. Except that when he deviates from the plan, Joanna has deboarded the train and keeps calling him to tell him he must do what he agreed to or else his family will get killed.

What follows is basically a cross between Taken and Runaway Train. There's nothing especially new to the storytelling here, but I must admit, I enjoyed The Commuter way more than I expected to. I'll even confess the single reason I even went to see it was because choices for new movies in theatres have been truly terrible for weeks, worse than it's been for years in the month of January. I literally saw The Commuter because I there appeared to be nothing better to see.

The critical consensus is mixed, and that makes sense. But The Commuter is one of those movies where the reviews arguably don't matter -- it's a certain type of movie that some people go looking for, and those people get what they're looking for. It's nothing special, but it delivers.

And to its credit, The Commuter, in spite of a script that is mediocre at best, has solid performances, and is edited in such a way that it's consistently suspenseful from beginning to end. It's fairly unpredictable, considering how contrived it is. It has a few surprises up its sleeve, and it has a great train derailment sequence that is as riveting as it is stupid. Sure, Liam Neeson leaps between train cars in slow motion like he's in a Mission: Impossible movie, but who cares? We're all having fun.

Liam Neeson may be the unlikeliest of action stars working today, although his rebirth as one in Taken now occurred a full ten years ago, in 2008. At that time, he was a 56-year-old playing 51 -- and here, he's a 66-year-old playing sixty. Hollywood aging at work, I guess. Neeson plays it well, though. He gets all the memorably cornball lines, playing regular working people with special skills learned at a former job in law enforcement -- this time, a former cop. He has a younger ex-partner friend played by Luke Wilson, and there's a captain they both resent played by Sam Niell. They all seem to know what kind of movie they're in -- and it's one that works better than most movies of its ilk.

In other words, The Commuter delivers the thrills you expect from it, without insulting your intelligence, at least not to an unbearable level. Here is a movie that seems to understand there's a line to draw with suspension of disbelief, and it stops just short of it. It's pretty forgettable in the long run, but entertains just the way you want while you're watching it.

Here's a hypothetical situation for you: what if this movie is not quite as dumb as you think it will be?

Overall: B

I'd Like to Thank the Academy

(And the nominees are . . .) This is new: one of the movies I listed as among the worst five I saw all year (fifth-worst, to be exact), also happens to be the leader in this year's number of Academy Award nominations, at 13: The Shape of Water, also known (by me) as Elisa Fucks a Fish. Mind you, I have always conceded that I am in the minority on this one, a rare instance in which a widely critically acclaimed movie was one I just could not quite abide. The movie has many redeeming values; in my view, the fact that it features a woman who fucks a fish -- okay, "Amphibian Man" if you want to get technical; but is that better? -- negates them. Second-highest number of nominations goes to Dunkirk, most of them in technical categories, which is no surprise; third goes to the movie with the most surprising momentum on the awards circuit, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. The latter film is also suffering a backlash that is arguably half-deserved; I won't stand alongside those who insist it's an inexcusably bad movie, but I will agree that it is deeply imperfect, and though deniably entertaining, really does not deserve the awards it has been getting -- and it is likely to win at least two of the acting awards, if the SAG Awards were any indication. And they usually are, although certainly not as any guarantee: they have only matched all four acting Oscar winners six times, and far more often match three out of the four. So, for a multitude of reasons, this year's Academy Awards are unusually unpredictable -- which can only be good for it, making it more interesting and more fun.
Actor in a Leading Role Timothée Chalamet, Call Me By Your Name
Daniel Day-Lewis, Phantom Thread
Daniel Kaluuya, Get Out
Gary Oldman, Darkest Hour
Denzel Washington, Roman J. Israel, Esq. WHO I THINK WILL WIN: After winning countless critic circle awards, the Golden Globe, and the SAG Award, in this category, Gary Oldman is the one to beat, and this is easily the most predictable win in an otherwise unusually unpredictable year.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: This is a thorny one, this year in particular. Gary Oldman's evidently shady place in the #MeToo movement makes me weary of advocating for him. I think the question of separating the artist from his art is a worthy one, but maybe not quite as much as usual this year. The thing is, among these nominees -- all of them great -- Gary Oldman's is the strongest performance. But if I were a voting member, I'd probably cast my vote for Daniel Kaluuya.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: This year, that would be Denzel Washington. No disrespect to him as an undeniably great actor, but nothing about Roman J. Israel, Esq., which was good but not great, justifies an Academy Award.
Actress in a Leading Role Sally Hawkins, The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish
Frances McDormand, Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri
Margot Robbie, I, Tonya
Saoirse Ronan, Lady Bird
Meryl Streep, The Post WHO I THINK WILL WIN: The big question for me here will be whether the surprising momentum for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri extends to the vast array of Academy Voters. It might not, but in all likelihood, it will. Just like Gary Oldman, after winning both the Golden Globe and the SAG Award (and there is massive crossover between Screen Actors Guild and Academy voters, making the acting awards the easiest to predict), the edge still goes to Frances McDormand. It's almost too bad -- her one win thus far, for Fargo, was well deserved; I'm not convinced this one would be, particularly compared to her many other far stronger roles.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: She doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell, but Margo Robbie keeps getting nominated and then not winning, and her performance is nothing short of amazing in I, Tonya.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: I'm tempted to say Frances McDormand here, but even she deserves it more, at this point in time, than Meryl Streep. Streep is indeed great in The Post, and I am on board with it garnering her yet another increase in her record number of nominations. But, come on. The woman has three Oscars already -- spread the wealth around a little. The Post would have to have been a far better film (even though it is good) to justify giving her the award.
Actor in a Supporting Role Willem Dafoe, The Florida Project
Woody Harrelson, Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri
Richard Jenkins, The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish
Christopher Plummer, All the Money in the World
Sam Rockwell, Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Until very recently, Willem Dafoe was the widely accepted frontrunner here. Then he lost the Golden Globe to Sam Rockwell, and it was like, well -- the Golden Globes are sort of the Fake Awards, with a voting block of less than 100, none of them crossing over with either SAG-AFTRA or the Academy. So there was no reason to think of it as a predictor of the SAG Award winner -- and then, Sam Rockwell won that one too. I would not say his chances are quite as etched in stone as those of Gary Oldman or Frances McDormand, but Sam Rockwell would still be in the lead here.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Again with the "not a snowball's chance in hell," after careful consideration, I have decided Christopher Plummer deserves this award. What he managed, in all of one week's worth of reshoots after All the Money in the World rightfully dumped Kevin Spacey, is nothing short of astonishing. And for some reason, in spite of the massive press the reshoots got, not very many people went to see this movie. And they should have.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: I liked The Florida Project a lot, but didn't quite see Willem Dafoe's performance as the career highlight so many others seemed to. Even Sam Rockwell, a great actor in a deeply flawed movie, is more deserving, and I would argue against him winning for this movie as well.
Actress in a Supporting Role Mary J. Blige, Mudbound
Allison Janney, I, Tonya
Lesley Manville, Phantom Thread
Laurie Metcalf, Lady Bird
Octavia Spencer, The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish WHO I THINK WILL WIN: And here we get the third predictable actor win! With both a Golden Globe and the SAG Award, if Allison Janney doesn't win for I, Tonya -- easily the only Oscar that movie has any chance of winning this year -- it will be the biggest shock of the evening.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: I'm on the fence between Allison Janney and Laurie Metcalf. I'd be thrilled for either of them, but Laurie Metcalf doesn't play the campaigning game, which, unfortunately, really does hurt her chances. She's just been along for the ride on the awards circuit, happily clapping for the other people who are winning in her category.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: I do love Octavia Spencer. Who doesn't? But she doesn't need an Oscar for a role in which she talks casually about the penis of an amphibian-man with the woman who fucked him. I'm sorry, she just doesn't!
Animated Feature Film The Boss Baby
The Breadwinner
Coco
Ferdinand
Loving Vincent WHO I THINK WILL WIN: I do think Pixar Animation Studios will win the day in this category as usual this year, and nab the award for Coco.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: And Coco, a deeply moving and visually beautiful animated film, will deserve it.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: The animation in Loving Vincent is indeed impressive -- but it's the only impressive thing about an otherwise incoherent movie.
Cinematography Blade Runner 2049, Roger A. Deakins
Darkest Hour, Bruno Delbonnel
Dunkirk, Hoyte van Hoytema
Mudbound, Rachel Morrison
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish, Dan Laustsen WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Dunkirk is such a technically flawless movie, this is where I think its likely multiple wins will begin.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Blade Runner 2049 is the only movie among these nominees for which I graded the cinematography as high as a A-. It really is the most visually impactful of these films.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: The cinematography in The Shape of Water (aka Elisa Fucks a Fish) was . . . fine. Have I mentioned I don't really get the excessive love for this movie?
Production Design Beauty and the Beast
Blade Runner 2049
Darkest Hour
Dunkirk
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish WHO I THINK WILL WIN: I have a feeling The Shape of Water (aka Elisa Fucks a Fish) might actually win this one, it's so visually stylized, combined with its widespread love just generally speaking.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: And that widespread love is missing from Blade Runner 2049, which really is the most impressive among these nominees. It even deserves this award more than it deserves Best Visual Effects -- the effects in the original Blade Runner were truly ahead of their time, and those of its sequel are not. But the production design still presents an impressively well-lived-in universe, if a bit unrealistically unevolved in the advanced thirty years of its setting.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: Of all the impressive challenges met by Dunkirk, production design is hardly the first one to come to mind.
Costume Design Beauty and the Beast, Jacqueline Durran
Darkest Hour, Jacqueline Durran
Phantom Thread, Mark Bridges
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish, Luis Sequeira
Victoria & Abdul, Consolata Boyle WHO I THINK WILL WIN: If enough people actually see the movie, this might be the one Oscar Phantom Thread actually wins. It's about a fashion designer, after all, and the many dresses and gowns featured are exquisite.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Phantom Thread, for the reason mentioned above.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: Beauty and the Beast was actually a delightful surprise of a movie, but I can't say its costuming, while wholly appropriate, exceeded expectations.
Directing Christopher Nolan, Dunkirk
Jordan Peele, Get Out
Greta Gerwig, Lady Bird
Paul Thomas Anderson, Phantom Thread
Guillermo del Toro, The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Given his film's 13 nominations, and the fact that Three Billboards' Martin McDonagh was actually shut out of this category, Guillermo del Toro is the clear frontrunner here.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Among these nominees, Jordan Peele. None of the other films listed here were as timely, or as intricately layered with deep meaning, heart, horror and humor, as Get Out was. He's not going to win, but he should.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: Say it with me! "The Shape of Water, aka Elisa Fucks a Fish!" That's the one that's going to win, though.
Film Editing Baby Driver, Paul Machliss and Jonathan Amos
Dunkirk, Lee Smith
I, Tonya, Tatiana S. Riegel
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish, Sidney Wolinsky
Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri, Jon Gregory WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Another technical category likely to go to Dunkirk, which is put together with intricate precision. It also curiously lacks a certain amount of humanity, leaving it feeling somewhat oddly sterile, but it still pulsates with urgency -- and nothing can take more credit for that than the film's editing.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Of these nominees, I actually was the most impressed with the editing in I, Tonya, which superbly conveys the story from multiple viewpoints, sometimes contradicting each other, but always coherent.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: Considering Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri weirdly omits nearly all the minority characters meant to be vital to the plot, I'm mystified that movie even got nominated in this category.
Makeup and Hairstyling Darkest Hour
Victoria & Abdul
Wonder WHO I THINK WILL WIN: This one's easy: Darkest Hour, in which Gary Oldman is quite impressively transformed into Winston Churchill, who he actually looks nothing like.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: A win for Darkest Hour, among these three nominees, would be deserved.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: I never even saw Wonder, but the deformity of that kid's face, even judging from trailers alone, could never stand up against the makeup job done on Gary Oldman.
Music (Original Score) Dunkirk, Hans Zimmer
Phantom Thread, Jenny Greenwood
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish, Alexandre Desplat
Star Wars: The Last Jedi, John Williams
Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri, Carter Burwell WHO I THINK WILL WIN: People love The Shape of water (aka Elisa Fucks a Fish) so much, they'll probably throw an Academy bone to it here.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: You know what? I don't actually care.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: Of all the awards Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri does not deserve, this would be the dumbest one to give it.
Music (Original Song) "Mighty River," from Mudbound, Music and Lyric by Mary J. Blige, Raphael Saadiq and Taura Stinson
"Mystery Of Love," from Call Me By Your Name, Music and Lyric by Sufjan Stevens
"Remember Me," from Coco, Music and Lyric by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez
"Stand Up For Something," from Marshall, Music by Diane Warren; Lyric by Lonnie R. Lynn and Diane Warren
"This Is Me," from The Greatest Showman, Music and Lyric by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul WHO I THINK WILL WIN: This is a really tough one to call, although it's not uncommon for the signature song of a widely beloved Pixar movie to win in this category, which may give "Remember Me" the edge.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: The Sufjan Stevens songs in Call Me By Your Name are as comforting and cozy as the film itself -- this is the one that gets my vote, from the best movie of the year.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: The Greatest Showman was 2017's paean to great efforts leading to towering mediocrity, which is as much reflected in its music as anywhere else in the movie.
Visual Effects Blade Runner 2049
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2
Kong: Skull Island
Star Wars: The Last Jedi
War for the Planet of the Apes WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Perhaps this will be the single Oscar won by The Last Jedi.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: None of these films was especially inventive when it came to visual effects, but I suppose The Last Jedi actually came closest -- it certainly did the best at turning its effects into art.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: As much as it pains me to say it -- because I liked it way more than either Kong: Skull Island or War for the Planet of the Apes -- Blade Runner 2049 is the least deserving in this specific category, especially considering how it failed to live up to the promise of its predecessor, one of the most visually influential movies of all time. It's a truly compelling movie ripe for discussions about the very definition of what it means to be human -- as was the original Blade Runner -- but the effects here spend too much time attempting to re-create a world rather than trying to move it forward. I never saw Guardians of the Galaxy, but I gave higher grades to the special effects in all three of the other movies in this category.
Writing (Adapted Screenplay) Call Me By Your Name Screenplay by James Ivory
The Disaster Artist, Screenplay by Scott Neustadter & Michael H. Weber
Logan, Screenplay by Scott Frank & James Mangold and Michael Green; Story by James Mangold
Molly's Game, Written for the screen by Aaron Sorkin
Mudbound, Screenplay by Virgil Williams and Dee Rees WHO I THINK WILL WIN: After being narrowed down to these five contenders, I think Adapted Screenplay may very well be the one Oscar Call Me By Your Name actually wins. If not that, then it will be Mudbound. The other three films just don't have enough going for them otherwise.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Call Me By Your Name, hands down -- an easy answer for me since it was the best film of the year.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: I'm kind of astonished Molly's Game, with its relentless and oppressive voice-over narration, even got nominated. I guess just being Aaron Sorkin has its many conveniences.
Writing (Original Screenplay) The Big Sick, Written by Emily V. Gordon & Kumail Nanjiani
Get Out, Written by Jordan Peele
Lady Bird, Written by Greta Gerwig
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish, Screenplay by Guillermo del Toro & Vanessa Taylor; Story by Guillermo del Toro
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, Written by Martin McDonagh WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Given its miniscule chances elsewhere, Get Out might actually have the edge here.
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: I would be truly happy for Jordan Peele to win for Get Out, but this is the single nomination for The Big Sick, which I felt was the second-best movie of the year. Give that movie an award, already! It's wonderful all around, but its utterly unique and delightful script is easily the best thing about it.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: The more I see Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri getting nominated for awards it does not deserve, the more I resent it. It deserves an award for screenwriting least of all -- it has great performances by actors who elevate its flawed material.
Best motion picture of the year Call Me By Your Name
Darkest Hour
Dunkirk
Get Out
Lady Bird
Phantom Thread
The Post
The Shape of Water aka Elisa Fucks a Fish
Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri WHO I THINK WILL WIN: Given the recent surge in momentum, I was thinking Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri might actually wind up with the Best Picture award. But, upon further reflection, I think it will merely have to settle with acting awards. Thirteen nominations is a lot, and that definitely gives the edge to The Shape of Water. Which means, as I have made abundantly clear, this year's likely winner for Best Picture is a movie about a woman who fucks a fish. Okay, okay, "Amphibian Man"!
WHO I THINK SHOULD WIN: Call Me By Your Name. Duh. Do yourself a favor and watch this movie. And then watch it again.
WHO I THINK SHOULD NOT WIN: My acknowledgment of the many flaws of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri notwithstanding, I really, really do not want a movie about a woman who fucks a fish to win Best Picture. But, it probably will.
(Nominations for foreign language film, documentary feature, documentary short, animated short, live action short, sound editing, and sound mixing were also announced, but I don't know enough about them to make any worthwhile observations.) The 90th Academy Awards telecast will air on ABC Sunday, March 4 at 4 p.m. Pacific Time. .

HOSTILES

Directing: B+
Acting: A-
Writing: B
Cinematography: B+
Editing: A-

I see a movie like Hostiles and I immediately want to know what Native Americans think of it. Westerns, as arguably the biggest contributor to American mythology in the twentieth century, have evolved a great deal over the decades. It's not so easy now just to make a movie about cowboy heroes who defeat Indian villains. Neither fit into such neat categories, and Hostiles is clearly being very deliberate about that.

Unlike, say, Wind River, though, the iMDB.com page for Hostiles has no discussion about Native American community involvement or response to the project. On the other hand, here's a take from Indian Country Today: "A Profound Respect for Native Culture, A Gut Punch of Reality." Having woefully little working knowledge of said culture beyond what I've seen in movies that historically treated Native Americans with little to no respect, I guess there's some comfort in at least one voice with far more authority than mine on the subject being pleased with the film, or at least its portrayals. And it's always good to know the Native American characters -- of which there are several here -- are played by actual Native American actors.

And, indeed, rare has a Western been this complexly layered since Unforgiven, although, truth be told, this film is nowhere near as solid as that, at least in terms of story arc. Much has been made among critics of the brutality giving way to redemption in this film, but I'm not so convinced Hostiles truly earns the redemption it gives its Native-hating lead character (played flawlessly by Christian Bale).

In terms of the brutality, the story is pretty horrifying from the start: we see a group of horse-stealing Native Americans massacre an entire family, failing to catch only the mother, Rosalie Quaid (Rosamund Pike), leaving her widowed and childless, all three of her children -- one of them a baby -- shot and killed. Next we move to a fort in New Mexico where we meet a soldier named Captain Joseph J. Blocker (Bale), and we learn right quick that he has a long history of slaughtering Native Americans -- men, women, children, you name it. He has as much contempt for Native Americans as any man has had in American cinema, or so it would seem at first.

And here is where things get complicated, not just in terms of plot, but in terms of how well Hostiles works as a story. The script was based on a manuscript found by the widow of Donald E. Stewart, who wrote Clear and Present Danger, Patriot Games and The Hunt for Red October -- and who died in 1999. Perhaps some more polishing of the script, which is decent but not great, could have been in order. As it exists onscreen, it has Joseph tasked with escorting an elderly Native American prisoner (Wes Studi) who has been held for seven years, back to his home in Montana to die of the cancer he is afflicted with. And over time they bond, as they face an array of common enemies along the way. For a man who is supposed to have such a deep and abiding, lethal contempt for his kind, it could easily be argued that the quickness of this bond is a bit beyond belief.

In a way, Hostiles is a road movie, just with people on horses -- and with people left alive steadily dwindling over the course of the story. Supporting cast here includes Ben Foster as another criminal pawned off on Blocker to be escorted to another town; and assisting officers played by Jesse Plemons and Timothée Chalomet. I was rather surprised to see Chalomet in his small role -- that guy is everywhere this year, this making three movies he's in playing in theatres concurrently (the others being Lady Bird and his multiple-award-nominated starring turn in Call Me By Your Name).

Ultimately, the plot pieces in Hostiles fit together a bit too neatly, making it slightly too Hollywood-convenient for its own good. That said, the characters themselves, and how their relationships with each other are portrayed, are uniformly compelling, the actors each elevating the otherwise contrived material with their superior skill and talent. Hostiles is no masterpiece, but it's certainly worth experiencing, both for its interpersonal tensions as well as its sociopolitical underpinnings.

Speaking of which -- a quick note on its language. It's relatively well known that plenty of Native Americans are fine with, and even prefer, "Indian." I don't recall the word "Indian" once being used in this script, which is a bit of odd revisionist history. Certainly people in the 1892 American West would have used that word rather than "Natives," which is what the characters here use. It feels a little like deliberate and perhaps misguided political correctness. Also: there is one black character (played by a capable Jonathan Majors), as one of the soldiers assisting Blocker, and in this movie, not only is his race never an issue with anyone, it's never even directly addressed. For 1892 America, that seems odd at best, and makes the character feel slightly like tokenism. In this world, apparently, racial tensions only exist between "The Natives," and everyone else. We all know that was not the case.

So: Hostile is in many ways, maybe most of them relatively subtle, problematic. It still works as a film, and particularly as a Western. It's compelling from beginning to end and is ripe for discussion.

Rosamund Pike and Christian Bale begin the dance of the aggrieved.

Overall: B+

PHANTOM THREAD

Directing: A-
Acting: A-
Writing: B+
Cinematography: B+
Editing: A-

Phantom Thread ultimately threw me for a loop. That’s what’s good about it. Or maybe it’s what’s best about it. It takes a while to come to that realization.

Until then, we follow along as renowned 1950s-era London clothing designer Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) falls in love with his latest muse, Alma (Vicky Krieps). It’s not that simple, though: to say Woodcock’s life is controlled would be an understatement. The man is upper-middle-aged, and as we see early on in the film, his muses have long been part of the routine: they come and go, until he tires of them. His focus is always on his work first, and this is facilitated by his sister, Cryil (Lesley Manville), with whom he is particularly close, both personally and professionally. Cyril is the one who will ask Reynolds if he would like her to ask that whatever woman it is leave.

The story here, then, is the woman who comes along and, once that question is asked, Reynolds says no. Reynolds has many difficulties with Alma’s unusual interruptions and breaks in his beloved routine, most of them rather subtle – it could be something as simple as her loudly scraping butter on her toast. Over time, Reynolds discovers himself to be attached to these interruptions. And then, after most of the movie presents as merely a sweet love story filled with many stunningly designed dresses (if this doesn’t get nominated for Costume Design it will be a travesty), a certain darkness to these interruptions is revealed. There is something very fucked up about this relationship, as it turns out, and Reynolds loves it.

If anything can be said about writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson, it’s that he is unlike any other director. Furthermore – and this is quite an accomplishment – each of his own movies is unlike any other he’s done. I have been a loyal and eager fan since Magnolia (1999) and his films have been reliable masterworks since Boogie Nights (1997). Only with 2015’s Inherent Vice did he disappoint – I broke with the majority of critics, for once, and found that one frustratingly convoluted. Phantom Thread is a welcome return to something both comprehensible and compelling.

Daniel Day-Lewis, as it happens, is here collaborating with P.T. Anderson a second time, ten years after – yet another masterwork --  There Will Be Blood. Day-Lewis says this will be his final acting role, but I take that announcement with a grain of salt (okay, Cher). It could be argued that this man is the greatest actor alive today, and you only need to compare his two roles in P.T. Anderson films to see it: the characters Reynolds Woodcock and Daniel Plainview could not possibly be more different. Woodcock certainly has his own repressions, but he also has barely guarded insecurities, and a genuine warmth when he wants to share it. He actually smiles. He is literally soft-spoken, and there is a certain comfort just in hearing him speak.

One of my favorite things about Phantom Thread is how many female characters it features. Daniel Day-Lewish may be the star, but aside from the small part of a male doctor, every other part of any note is of a woman: Alma; Cyril; the many employees who assist Reynolds with the assembly of his dresses. It could even be said that the emotional heart of Phantom Thread is not embodied by either Reynolds or Alma, but Reynolds’s sister, Cyril. Lesley Manville plays her beautifully, conveying a range of frustrations and resentments through measured and cold stares. Evidently never having had any romance in her own life, which is entirely wrapped up in Reynolds’s, she is the one who must come to terms with a permanent change in a brother she has relied on for decades. It would feel cheap to call this sibling rivalry; it’s something much deeper than that. In any case, Manville and Day-Lewis are completely convincing as siblings.

Alma, for her part, is deceptively deferential as Reynolds brings her in as his muse. Phantom Thread is partly narrated by her, the camera jumping back to her talking to someone in front of a fireplace. Who the hell is she talking to? We find out soon enough, at which point her relationship with Reynolds is revealed to be, let’s say, unconventional. Saying that alone might make one think exactly how it’s unconventional is easy to guess. Trust me, it’s not. This movie takes its time at it, but it goes in unexpected directions that are subtly disturbing. And if a movie must be disturbing, subtle is perhaps the best way to go. It makes a movie richer with repeat viewings, and I will certainly be watching this one again.

Alma and Reynolds dance around the dysfunctions that make their relationship function.

Overall: A-

THE POST

Directing: B+
Acting: A-
Writing: B
Cinematography: B+
Editing: A-

Here is another one of Spielberg's Serious Movies, another among many that ticks off all the boxes of effective drama while being just a little bit contrived, in that very Spielbergian way. The Post very much preaches to the choir -- many lines of dialogue come across as expressly designed to get the audience to applaud in agreement. In the screening I was at, the audience obliged several times, either applauding or literally saying "Yes!" to the screen.

None of that diminishes this movie's importance, or its significance. It would be tempting to call The Post the All the President's Men of the 21st century, except I would lay down significant bets that forty years from now people will not still be talking about The Post -- and they will be talking about All the President's Men, even then.

You can't fault Spielberg for trying, and that is perhaps an unfair comparison anyway -- because The Post is hardly a failure on any front. It tells the story of how The Washington Post became a national household name in news reporting after its decision to publish information from the Pentagon Papers in 1971, with a focus on its owner, Kay Graham, and her struggle with this decision. These papers revealed that not only then-current president Nixon, but every president since Harry S. Truman knew full well that a war in Vietnam was unwinnable; they lied to the public about it; and went ahead with it anyway. It would do well to note that includes John F. Kennedy, who was maybe not such a saint after all. For me, this has shades of Barack Obama being at the helm during the revelation of the NSA -- those who love given presidents find themselves easily overlooking terrible things they have done, or allowed to happen.

Nixon, of course, remains the worst of those who were incriminated by the Pentagon Papers, and his administration threatened legal action against newspapers publishing them. Spielberg smartly confines any screen time for Nixon to just the silhouette of him in a White House window, gesturing to recorded tapes of his ranting commentary on the proceedings. The Post is pointed about the newspaper standing up for freedom of the press while the White House threatened it -- sound familiar? -- and that, really, is what this film is about; there's no need to distract viewers with any presidential caricature.

The acting in The Post is as good as you're going to get anywhere, what with Meryl Streep playing Kay Graham, gradually finding her confidence as the one woman in any room, surrounded by men who feel they're doing her a favor by condescending to her. But, when her husband died, she inherited the paper, so the big decisions fall to her whether the rest of them like it or not. All of this plays out like a feminist sub plot, transparently contrived, but you can't help but cheer anyway. Streep can be largely credited for that.

She is paired with Tom Hanks as the editor of the paper, Ben Bradlee, basically the guy who is second in command under her but who makes the editorial decisions. These are two of America's greatest actors living today, and it's too bad they have never been paired before now; they work great together. The large supporting cast is rounded out by other great performers as well, including Sarah Paulson as Ben Bradley's wife (a little underused here, honestly, for an actor of her caliber); Alison Brie as Kay's daughter; Michael Stuhlbarg as the editor of The New York Times; Matthew Rhys as the man who leaked the papers; and Post reporters or Board members played by Bob Odenkirk, Bradley Whitford, David Cross and more.

The Post propels itself forward with an urgency clearly informed by the political climate we are currently in, strengthening its relevance. These issues are always relevant, of course, but The Post feels like a very deliberate reminder of what is at stake when it comes to attacks on the free press. That does beg the question of how differently it may have played, say, if it had been released three years ago. As with most Spielberg films, there is an unmistakable layer of emotional manipulation, of the sort that general lovers of movies won't even notice, and certain film snobs will regard with some level of contempt.

I, for one, fall in the middle of that spectrum. As moviegoing experiences go, The Post is a great one. It's both pertinent and entertaining, which is not always an easy combination. And Streep and Hanks have never been better, their performances alone being worth the price of admission.

For the last time, Hanks, this story is not about the mail!

Overall: B+

THE GREATEST SHOWMAN

Directing: C+
Acting: B-
Writing: C-
Cinematography: B
Editing: C+
Music: B

The Greatest Showman is revisionist drivel. It could have been something better, but apparently director Michael Gracey thought it best to settle. He got an ensemble cast packed with stars, and the greatest demand he placed on them was to phone it in.

The marketing materials for this movie tout it as "featuring the Academy Award winning lyricists of La La Land." This begs the question: who gives a shit? La La land had its faults but it also had charm to spare, and it wasn't because of its lyrics. I just finished watching The Greatest Showman two hours ago and I couldn't repeat a single line from a single song.

And when that's the description of the best part of a film, the film's got problems. It's somewhat mystifying that Hugh Jackman and Michelle Williams should be cast in lead parts in a musical that features several people in much smaller parts, many of them children, who are far better singers than they are. And Michelle Williams is utterly wasted here, as Charity, the wife who left her family riches for poor P.T. Barnum (Jackman), is an actor whose talents are unsurpassed by any other in her generation. You wouldn't know it to see her here, simply being the loving and supportive wife of the guy who invented the circus. You should skip this movie and watch her instead in the stunningly impressive All the Money in the World, in which she actually plays a woman with agency.

I mean, in The Greatest Showman, she's pretty -- that seems to be what she's here for. But everyone in The Greatest Showman is pretty, even Keala Settle as the Bearded Lady. Maybe Zac Efron especially. Okay, maybe not Dog Boy. I don't know who plays him; the guy got no lines -- nor did the vast majority of the human "curiosities" who populate the earliest iteration of Barnum's circus.

It strikes me as telling that the word "freaks" is used very sparingly in this film -- maybe two or three times. Here is a story of exploitation -- of both people and animals -- sanitized to the hilt. Who are they fooling with this shit? Sure, the circus performers do find themselves pushed aside in Barnum's quest to gain acceptance in high society, but the idea of prejudice against the "other" is here simplified to the level of a lesson learned in a children's book. This would include Efron playing a guy who defiantly courts a young black woman (Zendaya), but nothing even close to race is even mentioned anywhere in the dialogue. The story comes within spitting distance of addressing issues obvious to the time period, and never once so much as directly acknowledges them.

Some of the music, at least, is rather nice. None of it is especially memorable, save for the few cast members who can truly sing -- not all of whom are even singing with their own voice. Rebecca Ferguson has the largest supporting part for a character who sings quite a few songs, and he voice was dubbed by Lored Allred.

As P.T. Barnum's enterprises evolve, some of the song sequences feature some nifty choreography. These are the moments with the potential to render The Greatest Showman irresistible in spite of its flaws. Alas, they are fleeting. They remain part of disparate elements impossible to form a cohesive whole. Sometimes, a great voice sings a few lines in a song nice enough almost to become infectious. But the moment passes, and you're left with the time to ponder how this movie lacks the slightest bit of depth.

And then a scene shifts, and you're practically knocked over with cliches. Michelle Williams's scarf flapping in the breeze as she's kissed by Hugh Jackman would work better if there were anything knowing or self-aware about it. But The Greatest Showman wants us to accept it as a straightforward musical entertainment, at times even as an earnest one, but then it seems to think we won't notice when it's being ridiculous. P.T. Barnm coming to meet his family waiting for him at the ballet on one of his elephants? That's just the icing of dumb on a cake of stupid.

I was occasionally entertained enough by The Greatest Showman to forget how dumb it was -- it's a special kind of movie that can make you forget the entire time. This is not that kind of movie.

Circus freaks as props: The Greatest Showman can't figure out what it wants to be, or to do.

Overall: C+

Advance: I, TONYA

Directing: B+
Acting: A-
Writing: B+
Cinematography: A-
Editing: A-

Anyone old enough to remember 1994 will get some serious déjà vu watching I, Tonya. Remember Tonya Harding crying with her skate-covered foot propped up on the judges' table? The way I remember it, I was an 18-year-old judging her from my living room: look at this bitch, trying to convince us all of her innocence, she isn't fooling anybody. I had no idea how much I had been duped by the sensationalized media coverage.

And therein lies the magic of I, Tonya, which tells the story from Harding's perspective, underscores how fundamentally unfairly she was treated her entire career, and how little she directly had to do with the assault on Nancy Kerrigan . . . maybe.

Time changes everything, after all, and plenty of people these days are eager to come forward and talk about how horrible Kerrigan apparently was. Not that she deserved a club to the knee. But there now seems to be plenty of empathy around for Tonya Harding. That's certainly the tone of I, Tonya, which presents Harding as a deeply flawed individual, maybe even sometimes a bad person -- but treated so bady, by the press and by her own family, that it's easy to come down on her side.

Margot Robbie gives an incredible performance as Harding, embodying the young woman with a trashy background that the media loved to look down on her for, without ever turning her into caricature. She more than meets her match in Allison Janney as her hard-driving and often very abusive mother.

And that brings us to one of the common criticisms of I, Tonya, that it makes light of domestic violence and uses it for entertainment -- and I didn't really get that from it. A lot of domestic violence is indeed depicted here, which is arguably odd for what I suppose could best be called a tragicomedy, but not to would have been disingenuous. Harding had a mother who hit her, who at one point threw a knife into her arm, and the cycle continued with Harding's husband. It's sad, but hardly abnormal, for a woman to find it difficult to break up with an abusive man and also stay away from him.

This husband, Jeff Gillooly (Sebastian Stan), turned out to be one of the people who set into motion the events that resulted in Nancy Kerrigan, Harding's primary rival in figure skating, assaulted. If this movie -- and Tonya Harding herself -- is to be believed, Harding had very little knowledge of the "plan" hatched by Jeff's jaw-droppingly idiotic friends, who turned what started as just sending threatening letters into bashing a kneecap.

Director Craig Gillespie here unfolds the story with precision and skill, first introducing us to Harding as a young girl obsessed with ice skating, with a domineering mother (and Janney does an excellent job of making her as scary as she is funny), and waiting until about halfway through the film to get into the details of the assault. By then, we have really gotten to know these characters, all of them presented with greater nuance than you'd expect from a movie about a supposedly trashy figure skater. Not one of these characters devolves into caricature, and they quite easily could have.

If I had any real complaint about this movie, it would be that Nancy Kerrigan herself features so little in it. She does appear as a character, but I think the only line she actually utters onscreen is the infamous crying "Whyyyy?" that we all saw on the news. Sure, this is very much Tonya Harding's story, but she is far more interconnected with Nancy Kerrigan in the real world than she seems to be in this movie -- when she interrupts the narrative just a couple of times to make quick observations. For instance, that they were once roommates and partied together. A little more of that fleshed out would actually have done I, Tonya some good. I feel like giving the woman who portrayed her, Caitlin Carver, a shout-out just because she gets so sidelined.

On the other hand, it was Harding herself who got sidelined constantly, never for particularly good reasons, and she was a genuinely great figure skater -- the first American woman to land a triple axel in competition, after all. I, Tonya offers an insightful look at the world she came from, and how it informed her often very bad decisions. You can't necessarily condone a lot of her actions, but Margot Robbie in particular makes you understand why she did them. Here is a woman dealt a punishment wildly out of proportion to the crime -- well, at least, what crime she actually committed herself.

I, Tonya also features plenty of scenes with Harding's performances, and they are edited and shot beautifully. Watching this movie, you'll laugh, you'll cringe, you'll leave this movie pondering what a sad story Tonya Harding's really was, while also having been thoroughly entertained for two hours.

Love her or hate her, this is a story worth the time.

Overall: A-

Opens Thursday evening, January 4.

MOLLY'S GAME

Directing: B
Acting: B+
Writing: B
Cinematography: B
Editing: B

If Molly's Game is any indication, then a whole lot of people in Hollywood were eager to work with Aaron Sorkin for his directorial debut. Jessica Chastain as the title character -- based on the real life woman who was targeted by the FBI after years of running a high stakes poker game -- is the tip of the iceberg.

Since the parade of recognizable faces is one of the most memorable things about the film, we might as well go through the list: Idris Elba as her laywer; Kevin Costner as her father; Michael Cera and Chris O'Dowd as a couple of the many rotating poker players. Many of the other players are character actors recognizable from other things but not quite famous enough to be remembered by name. And speaking of Kevin Costner, he seems to have found a later-career niche in supporting parts to which he's well-suited, which is a relief after a career of very steep highs and very deep lows.

The real "star" of Molly's Game, the name that is liable to bring in fans more than any other, is Aaron Sorkin himself -- the famed writer of A Few Good Men, The West Wing, The Social Network, Moneyball and Steve Jobs. Through these projects for both film and television, Sorkin also revealed some well-known patterns. I can say that Molly's Game doesn't have so much of the "walk and talk" scenes -- but it sure is packed with the talking.

A bit too much of it, I would say. Sorkin is so enamored with his own writing that it can take another person as director to reign him in a little, and narrow the focus on his otherwise often crackling writing. Here he is the director as well as writer, however, and he rather lets loose, giving Molly way too much voice-over narration. This starts from the very beginning, with a prologue about Molly's early career as a competitive skier, and it quickly gets close to being crazy making. Come on, Sorkin -- show, don't tell!

To be fair, when depicting poker games, a little narration can actually be helpful, as the players can spend a lot of time in silence otherwise. And the many poker games shown in Molly's Game are as about as compelling as one could ask for, and I don't have any interest otherwise in card games.

What makes this a story worth telling is the unfairness of the FBI targeting Molly Bloom, seeking punishment far out of proportion to the crime, and also the ultimate integrity of Bloom herself. Having no knowledge of the real-life Molly Bloom, I can't speak to how closely Sorkin hews to actual facts here. But I can say that it certainly is fun to see a movie about a woman dominating in a specific world populated by powerful men.

Later insights about Molly being a woman with a domineering father now seeking to control powerful man are a little on the nose. Regardless, Molly's Game impressively avoids overt contrivances for the most part, which is an easy trap in a story about someone making money off of rich gamblers. The players themselves are a lively bunch with diverse personality types; Michael Cera in particular does a nice job depicting a movie star with a ruthless streak.

Chastain carries the film, though, and is up to the task -- this is an unusual part for her, but she slips into it smoothly, all confidence and subtle defiance. Cinema still needs more strong female characters like this. The fact that she talks way too much in voice-over isn't her fault -- it's Aaron Sorkin's. This is a guy proving that he can helm a film on his own, but also reveals some opportunity for improvement. Molly's Game may be engaging from start to finish, but it still doesn't need to be packed with people talking slightly too fast for 140 minutes. This means there are better options for spending your time in a movie theatre, but this is still a perfectly good choice for the streaming platform of your choice in a few months.

Who's up for a game of Monopoly? Sorry? Cards Against Immunity?

Overall: B