On February 24, at 7:00 pm EST, ABC will air the 85th Academy Awards in a lavish, star-studded and sure-to-be underwhelming ceremony that will be watched by many but not enough. This is Election Day for awards prognosticators – the culmination of twelve long, exhausting months of predicting, theorizing, arguing and overanalyzing. Could Argo possibly be the first film to win Best Picture without a Best Director nomination since Driving Miss Daisy in 1990? Will the talented and gorgeous Jennifer Lawrence defeat the equally talented and gorgeous Jessica Chastain for Best Lead Actress? Which widely respected Caucasian veteran will bring home Best Supporting Actor? What are the odds that Daniel Day-Lewis will leave empty-handed? These are a few of the burning questions that will finally be put to rest on Sunday (spoiler alert: the answer for the last question is zero).
Behold, a god among men.
But I’m sure you don’t want to read another speculative essay about how the controversy surrounding Zero Dark Thirty destroyed its chances at Best Picture. Or about how there’s no conceivable way that Seth MacFarlane can surpass Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, who co-hosted a witty, heartfelt and all-around enjoyable Golden Globe ceremony earlier this year. As tempting as the latter proposition is, I would rather take a moment to recognize the shoulda-been contenders: the films and people that were, for whatever reason, overlooked this awards season. While I don’t necessarily think all of them should have been Oscar nominees (though some are certainly worthy), they deserved to be in the conversation, if not as serious awards contenders then at least as quality movies and performances.
(FYI: I’m
not including highly buzzed-about snubs like Ben Affleck and Kathryn Bigelow
since, as admirable as they were, it’s hard to argue that they were genuinely ignored
rather than just pushed out due to the
limited number of slots. I am also not including performances and movies
that I haven’t been able to see yet, so chances are, there are tons of worthy
contenders missing from my list.)
So, without
further ado:
The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Lead Actor, Best Supporting Actor) – This endearing slice of ‘90s high school nostalgia received warm, even ecstatic, critical reviews but didn’t make much of a dent in the box office, maybe because, despite being based on a wildly popular YA novel, it never expanded beyond 745 theaters. As a result, the movie flew a little under the radar, which is a damn shame because I can say without exaggeration that it is one of the best films about teenagers I have ever seen. Accompanied by a swoon-worthy compilation of quintessentially ‘90s indie rock songs (as well as one memorable David Bowie number), Perks successfully captures the carefree highs and angst-ridden lows of youth by taking the novel approach of portraying its adolescent protagonists not as one-dimensional caricatures who live on an entirely separate planet from the rest of the world, but as (gasp!) actual human beings. It is largely thanks to the shrewd, warmhearted script by writer-director Stephen Chbosky, who also penned the book, that the film manages to transcend the self-indulgent sentimentality and flippant clichés that too often plaque the genre. And the charming cast makes even the most melodramatic moments feel visceral and authentic. Especially impressive are Erza Miller, mesmerizing as the energetic, outspoken Patrick, and Logan Lerman, who inhabits the lead role with such soulful restraint that he makes shyness speak volumes. Simultaneously intimate and universal, earnest and perceptive, heartbreaking and triumphant, The Perks of Being a Wallflower says something true and immediate about growing up, one of the rare book adaptations that keeps the original’s heart and spirit intact.
The
Avengers (Best Supporting Actress) – Joss Whedon’s blockbuster
sensation is the definition of an ensemble movie. With all of the principal
actors (save, perhaps, Jeremy Renner) receiving a roughly equal amount of
screen time, everyone is likely to have his or her own idea of who the MVP
should be. Personally, I was most blown away by Scarlett Johansson, whose
tenacious yet haunted Black Widow provided a counterpoint to the still-prevalent
theory that women
can’t hold their own in action movies. Of course, the majority of the media
discourse surrounding Johansson’s performance centered on either her
miraculous ability to fit in a body-hugging leather suit or the fact that
she apparently served no purpose in the movie other than to be the “token
sexy female”. To the contrary, however, Black Widow was arguably the most compelling
character in The Avengers (followed by
Tom Hiddleston’s Loki), partly because her background was so enigmatic and
partly because Johansson played her with an impeccable mixture of steely
composure and quiet self-doubt. If Marvel doesn’t let her have a standalone
film in the near future, there
will be hell to pay.
The
Amazing Spider-Man (Best Lead Actor) – Who would’ve thought? Prior to
last year, Andrew Garfield was known primarily for portraying troubled,
socially awkward misfits in such movies as the criminally underrated Boy A, the tragic, contemplative novel
adaptation Never Let Me Go and, of
course, David Fincher’s searing 21st century masterpiece The Social Network. With his indie-leaning
background and lanky frame, nothing about Garfield suggested that he’d make for
an ideal superhero. But as it turns out, Spider-Man (or, more accurately, Peter
Parker) was the role he was born to play. Regardless of how you feel about the
rest of the movie (I found it flawed yet promising and a definite improvement
on the Sam Raimi-helmed original), it’s hard to ignore the ease with which
Garfield made the beloved character his own. Even when the film threatened to
crumble under the weight of its constantly shifting tones and grandiose action
sequences, Garfield held it together, the beating, riveting heart at the center
of the CGI madness, and his chemistry with the under-utilized, albeit
irresistible Emma Stone provided many of the movie’s best scenes (including one
that was apparently, inexplicably cut from the final version). I still find
myself consistently in awe of his ability to convey a storm of emotions through
his posture alone. Forget the 3D web-slinging and expensive special effects;
what’s truly amazing about this Spider-Man
is that Garfield makes the iconic hero feel poignantly, at times brutally,
real.
Anna
Karenina (Best Director) – Only eight years have passed since Joe
Wright burst onto the scene with his surprisingly energetic adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, but he has
already evolved into one of the most exciting young directors working today.
Aside from the eminently forgettable The
Soloist, all of his movies, from the aforementioned period piece to the
artsy, Chemical Brothers-scored thriller Hanna,
have at least been interesting, and he has displayed an admirable willingness
to test the boundaries of genre. Anna
Karenina is his most ambitious project to date, an adaptation of Leo
Tolstoy’s classic novel that takes place entirely on a series of stages. Technically,
it is stunning, boasting lush costumes, sumptuous sets, deft cinematography and
a gorgeous,
classically-oriented score, which earned the movie a few well-deserved
Oscar nominations. More importantly, Wright exercises just enough restraint so
that the orgasmic visuals don’t distract from the main product. Some critics
accused the film of being too bombastic, which is fair enough, though
personally, I thought the theatricality and grandness aptly reflected the
melodramatic tone of Tolstoy’s book (let’s face it, Anna Karenina has many good qualities, but subtlety is not one of
them). Also, even if some of the source material’s richness is inevitably lost
in the transition from page to screen, Wright and screenwriter Tom Stoppard do
a fine job of condensing the sprawling original narrative down to a manageable
size while maintaining its fundamental tone and themes. At a time when
filmmakers are often accused of playing it too safe, Anna Karenina feels like a middle finger to convention, the bold,
uncompromising vision of a director who isn’t afraid to take risks and let his
freak flag fly.
This Is 40 (Best Lead
Actress) – Leslie Mann has been working with director (and current spouse)
Judd Apatow since her one-episode
guest appearance in the short-lived yet near-perfect TV show Freaks and Geeks all the way back in
2000. Since then, she’s had roles in everything from The 40 Year Old Virgin to the indie drama Little Birds, yet she never really got the opportunity to show off
the extent of her talent. Until now, that is. In This Is 40, the most mature – and meandering – entry in Apatow’s
directorial career so far, Mann proves herself to be not only a reliably funny
comedian but also a first-rate actress. Expanding upon her supporting role as the
controlling, type-A Debbie from 2007’s Knocked
Up, she gives a nuanced, always-convincing, often-touching performance that
sheds light on her character’s plentiful flaws without reducing her to a shrill,
one-dimensional cartoon. Even at her most overbearing, Debbie never ceases to
be sympathetic. If anyone doubts that comedic actors can be just as compelling,
just as complex and raw, as their dramatic counterparts, I dare you to watch
Mann’s performance here and walk away with your mind unchanged.
Seven
Psychopaths (Best Supporting Actor) – Speaking of comedy, you can’t get
much darker or edgier than this. Although a bit too self-conscious and
over-the-top at times, Martin McDonagh’s follow-up to the hilarious,
unexpectedly moving In Bruges is a
blast to watch, a scathing, clever and gleefully offensive satire of Hollywood
action movies. And just as In Bruges
revolved around a gut-wrenching lead performance by Colin Farrell, Seven Psychopaths provides a
much-welcome showcase for the regrettably under-appreciated Sam Rockwell, who
has spent the vast majority of his career so far stranded in limited parts and terrible movies. The ensemble
cast as a whole is terrific, including Farrell (the straight man here), an
uncharacteristically subdued Christopher Walken, Woody Harrelson and countless
cameos (my favorite is the opening scene with Michael Pitt and Michael
Stuhlbarg), but this is, without a doubt, Rockwell’s show. When he is onscreen,
which is luckily a lot of the time, it’s impossible to take your eyes off him;
alternately smooth and maniacal, charismatic and despicable, earnest and
ruthless, he chews scenery as though his life depends on it, turning in his
best performance in years, maybe of his career. At last, here is a role that
measures up to Rockwell’s talent, and it’s a joy to watch him tear it to
shreds. Too bad the Oscars still treat
comedy like, well, a joke.
There is no excuse, however, for the original song snub. At least in recent years, the Oscars have done a woefully bad job at selecting songs (fucking Rio, really?!), so it wasn’t really a surprise that not a single one of the four stellar contenders from Django Unchained made the cut. But I can’t get over the fact that apparently, the Academy preferred “Suddenly” from Les Miserables (the only song from the entire movie that isn’t even remotely catchy) to Anthony Hamilton and Elayna Boyton’s “Freedom” or John Legend’s “Who Did That to You?” I mean, “Before My Time” from Chasing Ice? Just… what? What the hell is Chasing Ice anyway? The dismal state of the category wouldn’t be so frustrating if there weren’t worthier choices out there, but 2012 was one of the better years for original song; in addition to the four songs from Django Unchained, we also got, among others, yet another good song from the Lord of the Rings franchise (though the shorter, ineligible dwarf-sung version is the real deal) and a fierce anthem from The Hunger Games sung by Arcade Fire (how cool would it have been to see them perform at the Oscars?).
Help us, Adele, you’re our only hope.
The Dark Knight Rises (literally anything) – It’s no shock that the heavily anticipated conclusion to Christopher Nolan’s celebrated trilogy failed to land a Best Picture nomination, and even as someone who loved the movie, I can’t be too bitter about that. Of course, I would have been delighted if it did somehow manage to get a nod, if only to (partially) make up for the rightfully infamous snub of The Dark Knight, but admittedly, Rises isn’t quite the provocative, memorable and brilliantly executed pop culture landmark that its predecessor was. Still, after crafting one of the best and most complete cinematic series of the past decade, if not of all time, Nolan & co. deserved at least some awards recognition. Even just one lousy tech nomination would have sufficed, but instead, they got zilch, nada, zip, nothing. For god’s sake, Snow White and the Huntsman can now call itself an Oscar nominee, so it’s not like the bar is set particularly high. Also, aside from Heath Ledger, who was, to be fair, absolutely magnificent and earned every word of praise heaped on him, the actors have never received adequate attention for their work on the trilogy. In addition to great performances given by recurring players like Christian Bale, Gary Oldman and Michael Caine, who have all been so reliable since the beginning that it’s easy to forget how well-cast they are, Rises featured several welcome first-timers, most notably Tom Hardy and Anne Hathaway. Saddled with the unenviable task of following up Heath Ledger’s iconic Joker from The Dark Knight, Hardy was judged largely based on whether or not he measured up to his precursor, an unfair comparison considering 1) they were playing two completely characters and 2) it was flat-out impossible for anyone to surpass Ledger, both because he was just that good and because certain, tragic outside circumstances elevated his performance above mere greatness and into the realm of immortality. In the end, Hardy may have lacked the eerie charisma that made Ledger so unforgettable, but he compensated for it with sheer intensity and screen presence, his insanely intimidating physique a tad reminiscent of his similarly vicious turns in Bronson and Warrior.
What the fuck are
you, Tom Hardy?
By many
accounts, however, Anne Hathaway stole the film. As the opportunistic,
sharp-tongued Selina Kyle, she infused the proceedings with a much-appreciated
liveliness and provided an engaging foil to Bale’s brooding Bruce Wayne. As much as I liked her performance in Les Miserables, if/when Hathaway walks
up to the podium to deliver her acceptance speech on Oscar night, I’m going to secretly
imagine that she won for Catwoman, not Fantine. Alternately self-confident and
vulnerable, roguish and sincere, she provides a strong counterargument to the
claim that Christopher Nolan doesn’t write good female characters, one of the
few members of the femme fatale archetype who is allowed to have a life and
story of her own.
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