Oscar picks, 2021 edition.

The Oscars are happening tonight, about two months later than usual, so I’ve put together this post with some loose predictions, my own picks for each award, and, most importantly, links to every one of these films I’ve reviewed. I’ve seen all of the Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Screenplay nominees, and all but one of the films in the four acting categories, as well as all five documentaries and all five animated features, with 50 total films seen from the 2020 awards cycle (which ran fourteen months).

Best Picture

The Father
Judas and the Black Messiah
Mank
Minari
Nomadland
Promising Young Woman
Sound of Metal
The Trial of the Chicago 7

Who will win: Nomadland

Who should win: Nomadland

I don’t feel that confident in the prediction here; I’m a little concerned that Chicago 7 will win, as it’s such an actor-focused, Very Important Film that it might resonate with the same voters who picked Green Book two years ago. I’ve seen Minari, and loved it, but haven’t posted a review yet.

Snubs: A Sun didn’t even make the Best International Feature cut (it was on the shortlist), but it belongs here, as does One Night in Miami, the exclusion of which I simply do not understand. Never Rarely Sometimes Always would have been a good if out-of-the-box choice. I haven’t seen First Cow yet.

Best Director

Another Round (Thomas Vinterberg)
Mank (David Fincher)
Minari (Lee Isaac Chung)
Nomadland (Chloé Zhao)
Promising Young Woman (Emerald Fennell)

Who will win: Zhao

Who should win: Zhao

This award and Best Picture used to be more closely linked than they are now, but I’m not sure I see them splitting the votes this time around. Vinterberg’s nomination seems inexplicable, unless it’s a sympathy vote, as his daughter was killed in a car accident during filming; she helped inspire the script and he dedicated the film to her.

Snubs: Regina King was supposed to be a lock for this category for One Night in Miami. I would have given Florian Zeller a nod as well for The Father.

Best Actress

Viola Davis, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Andra Day, The United States vs. Billie Holliday
Vanessa Kirby, Pieces of a Woman
Frances McDormand, Nomadland
Carey Mulligan, Promising Young Woman

Who will win: Mulligan

Who should win: Mulligan

Davis could win this, but I don’t think this is particularly close on the merits. Mulligan gave one of the two best performances I saw this year, and if pushed I think she gave the best one. I was very glad to see Kirby get a nomination even though she has no chance to win – she is that movie, and she’s clearly a star on the rise.

Snubs: Carrie Coon for The Nest and Sidney Flanigan for Never Rarely Sometimes Always would both have been better choices than Day, who does a fine job with a terribly written part.

Best Actor

Riz Ahmed, Sound of Metal
Chadwick Boseman, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Anthony Hopkins, The Father
Gary Oldman, Mank
Stephen Yeun, Minari

Who will win: Boseman

Who should win: Hopkins

Boseman’s going to win, obviously, and he was very good … but Hopkins was just better, in a more significant role. I wouldn’t want to see the reaction if Hopkins were to win.

Snubs: I’m good with these five. Dev Patel was great in A Personal History of David Copperfield.

Best Supporting Actress

Maria Bakalova, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm
Glenn Close, Hillbilly Elegy
Olivia Colman, The Father
Amanda Seyfried, Mank
Yuh-Jung Youn, Minari

Who will win: Youn

Who should win: Youn

I feel like this is a lock, and of the four I’ve seen – I haven’t seen Hillbilly Elegy and see no good reason to do so – I’d put Youn and Colman as 1 and 1A, Bakalova second, and would give Seyfried a participation trophy. Maybe Close gets some sort of lifetime achievement thing here, especially after losing to Colman a few years ago when she was supposed to win, but people forget that The Wife was actually a shit movie.

Snubs: Tilda Swinton was superb in The Personal History of David Copperfield, certainly deserving of Seyfried’s spot.

Best Supporting Actor

Sasha Baron Cohen, The Trial of the Chicago 7
Daniel Kaluuya, Judas and the Black Messiah
Leslie Odom, Jr., One Night in Miami
Paul Raci, Sound of Metal
LaKeith Stanfield, Judas and the Black Messiah

Who will win: Kaluuya

Who should win: Kaluuya

I’ll say this – if Raci wins, it’ll be an amazing story, and I’ll cheer for him. But Kaluuya was slightly better in a much more significant role, and he’s one of the best actors going today. Of course, he was really the lead actor in Judas, but that’s another story entirely, I guess.

Snubs: I’m also good with these five, although Kingsley Ben?Adir was pretty amazing as Malcolm X in One Night in Miami.

Best Documentary Feature

Collective
Crip Camp
The Mole Agent
My Octopus Teacher
Time

What will win: Time

What should win: Collective

I just don’t know; I thought Time was the shoo-in here, but Tim Grierson thinks My Octopus Teacher – easily my least favorite of these – is going to win, and no matter what, Collective should win, because it’s the best story and it’s told so effortlessly.

Snubs: Transhood. It’s on HBO Max. You should watch it.

Best Writing, Original Screenplay

Judas and the Black Messiah
Minari
Promising Young Woman
Sound of Metal
The Trial of the Chicago 7

What should win: Promising Young Woman

What will win: Promising Young Woman

The screenplay categories have become a way to honor a film that has no shot at Best Picture (or maybe anything else) with a little pat on the head to say, “good job, we liked your little movie.” In this case, though, I’m good with Promising Young Woman taking this award home but not getting Director or Best Picture; the script itself is daring and novel and gets at least some of the credit for enabling Mulligan’s performance.

Snubs: A Sun, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, The Nest.

Best Writing, Adapted Screenplay

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm
The Father
Nomadland
One Night in Miami
The White Tiger

What should win: One Night in Miami

What will win: The Father

I could go either way here with those two screenplays; The Father is a better movie, because of Hopkins and some directorial choices, but Miami gets a very slight edge for me in the writing department.

Snubs: A Personal History of David Copperfield. You may remember the original.

Best Animated Feature Film

Onward
Over the Moon
Shaun the Sheep: Farmageddon
Soul
Wolfwalkers

What should win: Wolfwalkers

What will win: Soul

Pixar just has such a huge advantage in this category that it seems contrarian to predict any non-Pixar film to win, but I’ll pull for Wolfwalkers, another hand-drawn film from Cartoon Saloon, even knowing it probably has no chance. Soul might be fourth for me among these nominees.

Snubs: The only other eligible film I saw was A Whisker Away, an anime film you can see on Netflix, which offers a far better story than Onward.

Best Animated Short Film

“Burrow”
“Genius Loci”
“If Anything Happens I Love You”
“Opera”
“Yes-People”

What should win: “If Anything Happens I Love You”

What will win: “Burrow”

“If Anything Happens I Love You,” available on Netflix, follows a couple after their only child has been killed in a school shooting. It’s devastating, and the style of the art further evokes those emotions. But I always assume Pixar is going to win this category. (I haven’t seen “Opera,” which appears to only be streaming on the subscription site ShortsTV.)

Snubs: “Cops and Robbers,” also on Netflix, can’t quite match the animation quality of “Yes-People” or the style of “Genius Loci” (which bored me), but the story, told as spoken-word poetry, is more relevant and more powerful. I don’t think dialogue gets you far in this category, though.

Best International Feature Film

Another Round
Better Days
Collective
The Man Who Sold His Skin
Quo Vadis, Aida?

I’ve only seen Another Round and Collective here; I’d vote for Collective of the two, but I think A Sun was better than both. The last two are now both on Hulu, so I’ll get to them eventually.  

Sound of Metal.

This week’s Oscar nominations included a bunch of surprises, including Sound of Metal, available now on Amazon Prime, earning a Best Picture nod among its six overall nominations. It’s an extraordinarily well-acted piece, with well-earned nominations for Riz Ahmed and Paul Raci, with a story that has its heart in the right place but that has some plot holes I found it impossible to overlook.

Ahmed plays Ruben, the drummer for a two-piece hard rock band called Blackgammon along with his girlfriend, singer-guitarist Lou (Olivia Cooke). During one of their shows, he notices his hearing has almost vanished, and a subsequent trip to a doctor reveals that he’s lost about ¾ of his hearing, and while Ruben doesn’t want to accept it at first, it’s permanent and will require him giving up his career. He’s also a recovering addict, clean for four years, but when he tells Lou about his hearing loss, she freaks out and calls his sponsor, who quickly arranges a place for him a house for deaf people recovering from addiction run by Joe (Raci). Ruben spends at least several weeks at the house, gradually adjusting to his deafness, learning American Sign Language and working with some deaf kids at a local camp, but still wants to get the implants he thinks will save his hearing and his career – but that doesn’t work out at all like he planned.

Ahmed and Raci are this film, no offense to Cooke, who is fine in a modest role (other than her eyebrows, which appear to have been bleached in an unfortunate industrial accident). Ahmed wears this haunted look through so much of Sound of Metal that defines Ruben’s inability or unwillingness to accept his deafness, and that cuts through even scenes where he’s supposed to be happy. You can feel his frustration at the hand he’s been dealt – or that he’s dealt himself through his music, although that question is never acknowledged in the film – in almost every scene, but when he can no longer deny that he’s never getting back to where he once was, Ahmed delivers a moment that drives home the devastation. Raci’s nomination has to be the feel-good story of awards season, as he’s 72, with a limited resume in film and TV; Wikipedia has him appearing in just seven films before this, all in minor roles. Raci is the son of deaf parents, so he knew ASL already and I presume is very familiar with deaf culture, but without the credibility and compassion he provides in his role as the leader of the rehab house and a mentor who takes a particular interest in Ruben’s case, the film wouldn’t work. Once he exits the story, you can feel a little of the air escape, because the interactions between Ruben and Joe are the center of the film, and also its most credible elements.

The script works too hard to get Ruben to the rehab house, and struggles to give him a realistic path once he leaves. Ruben sees one doctor for a hearing test, and the doctor tells him about cochlear implants, but there’s no extensive consultation and somehow Ruben thinks the implants will restore his previous hearing – continuing to believe this right up until he gets the implants and has them activated. You don’t get cochlear implants without a long consultation first, and no doctor is going to wait until after the surgery (as Ruben’s does) to explain that implants don’t let you hear through your ears again. When Ruben reveals his deafness to Lou, she immediately reacts as if he’s relapsed, before he’s shown any indications of a problem. After Ruben gets his cochlear implants and asks Joe if he can stay a few more weeks while he waits for the activation, Joe tells him to leave immediately – which itself seems unrealistic, and antithetical to this sort of self-help program – and somehow Ruben, who said he was broke, ends up on a plane to Paris, where he shows up at the house of Lou’s father, who has never met Ruben and didn’t seem to know he was coming. There are just too many of these little plot conveniences for the film’s good, especially since some of them could have been addressed with modest changes.

The film landed six nominations, including the two for Ahmed and Raci; Ahmed has no chance to win against the late Chadwick Boseman (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom) but would certainly be a worthy winner, while Raci seems like he’s going to lose to Daniel Kaluuya (Judas and the Black Messiah) yet would also be deserving of the award. I understand both of those nominations as well as the one for Best Sound, since so much here depends on the way the movie manipulates sound, often putting you into Ruben’s head to show how little he’s hearing. The nomination for Best Original Screenplay, however, seems to reward Sound of Metal for its greatest weakness – a script that takes shortcuts to get its main character where he needs to be – and why the movie ultimately fell short of Best Picture status for me.

Judas and the Black Messiah.

Daniel Kaluuya’s Golden Globes win might bring some more attention to the superb Judas and the Black Messiah, available now on HBO Max, a biopic that focuses on the final months of Fred Hampton’s life by focusing equally on the man who betrayed him. It’s a different angle than a more typical biography, and I can see an argument that it gives Hampton short shrift, but the two lead performances absolutely drive this movie.

Fred Hampton (Kaluuya) was the head of the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther Party when Edgar Hoover’s FBI decided he was a threat to the nation and, with the help of the members of the Chicago Police Department who weren’t busy assaulting protesters, executed him in his bed while his pregnant girlfriend listened from the next room. The FBI was able to do this because one of Hampton’s lieutenants, William O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield), was an FBI informant who ratted out Hampton to avoid a felony charge of car theft. O’Neal not only provided information to his FBI handler, Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons), but slipped a sedative into Hampton’s drink the night of the execution so he’d be unable to flee or fight back.

Judas and the Black Messiah follows O’Neal’s story from his arrest to Hampton’s murder, bookending the film with footage from Eyes on the Prize II, in which O’Neal gave his only public comment on his involvement in Hampton’s assassination. The narrative focus shifts away from O’Neal to Hampton as needed, giving more time for Hampton’s character to develop, and more time for Kaluuya to show how a magnetic speaker like Hampton could develop such a strong following in such a short period of time – he first became active in social justice movements at 18, and the FBI had him executed when he was 21. (Kaluuya and Stanfield are both much older than the men they portray.)

Stanfield is the lead actor here, at least by how the film’s producers have submitted the pair’s names for awards, but most of the film’s strongest moments belong to Kaluuya. It’s unsurprising, given his superb performances in Get Out and Widows, but he is an unbelievably compelling Hampton whenever he’s speaking to any sort of crowd, friendly or hostile. Kaluuya was positively creepy in Widows as a remorseless, vindictive killer, and here he channels that same implacable calm in any situation, such as when Hampton speaks to a group of Appalachian whites, transplants in Chicago, who rallied under the Confederate flag but also shared some progressive views with the Panthers (a meeting, and subsequent alliance, that occurred in real life).

Meanwhile, despite a strong performance by Stanfield, the script doesn’t give us enough insight into why O’Neal was willing to betray Hampton, to work with the FBI and against his own community, even when he gets clear evidence that the Panthers were creating positive change. His initial willingness to sign up as an informant, avoiding what the film says would have been six years in prison, is easy to grasp, but as the demands on him grow, and he’s more entrenched within the Panther organization, why wouldn’t he balk? Where’s the hesitation beyond what the script gives us in a phone call or two where he threatens to walk away and then changes his mind when reminded of the charges hanging over his head. Stanfield is very good at portraying anguish, speaking through clenched jaws with his head slightly bowed, but there’s something lacking in the character’s portrayal here – although even the actual interview O’Neal gave shortly before his death (the same day that Eyes on the Prize II aired) fails to provide a satisfactory explanation, as he seems unwilling to confront the consequences of his own actions. It’s at least plausible that director Shaka King and writers Keith and Kenneth Lucas made an active choice to leave O’Neal’s character vague because of the paucity of information on his motivations and feelings after the fact.

Between this film and the contemporaneous The Trial of the Chicago 7, it’s a strong year for ACAB in movies (or perhaps ACCAB, since both films involve gross misconduct by Chicago police), which speaks to much of the present mood in large portions of the country even though both events took place over 50 years ago. The idea of our own government executing a 21-year-old citizen in his sleep, where the police fired 90 shots and the Panthers in the apartment fired just one, should still shock and horrify us, and Judas and the Black Messiah doesn’t shy away from the corruption and police-state authoritarianism that allowed these events to take place – and the men behind them to walk away unscathed. It’s infuriating without feeling manipulative, unlike Sorkin’s film, because Judas’ script hews far more closely to the true story. It’s a film-world crime that The Trial of the Chicago 7 got a Best Picture – Drama nomination at the Globes, and a screenplay win, when Judas received neither, something I hope is remedied when the Oscars come out with their own slate of nominees in two weeks, with Kaluuya also deserving of a nod. Judas is an imperfect film in a few ways – I could have done without some of the inside-the-FBI stuff too – but between Kaluuya’s performance and the sheer power of the story behind it, it’s one of the year’s best.

The Trial of the Chicago 7.

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (now on Netflix) has a great movie at its heart, with all of the quick, witty dialogue you’d expect from an Aaron Sorkin script, but it is the most over-Sorkined thing imaginable. The actual story of the Chicago Eight (later reduced to seven, when Bobby Seale was granted a mistrial) is compelling enough that Sorkin had to do nothing more than supply the dialogue. Instead, he fabricated events and added melodrama to a story that didn’t need it.

The Chicago Seven were seven men who were involved in some way in the protests against the Vietnam War held in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic National Convention, which itself took place in the wake of the murder of Robert F. Kennedy. Those protests descended into violence when the Chicago Police Department responded with violence to the protesters’ mere existence, but the city, and then the new Republican Administration of President Nixon, chose to charge eight men with conspiracy to incite violence. The eighth, Seale, wasn’t at the protests, but was the co-founder of the Black Panther Party, and had the misfortune to be in Chicago for a few hours during the convention, so he was arrested too on a charge that was even more bogus than those faced by the other seven. The trial was a farce, over before it started, thanks in no small part to a judge who kept one foot on the scales the entire time.

Sorkin chose to tell the story of the trial, giving us the protests and the violence through flashbacks, which is a reasonable device for explaining this part of history, especially given the historical populiarty of courtroom dramas on TV and in film. With the cast he’s assembled here to play the courtroom principals, he can get away with most of the action taking place inside that room, giving them the dialogue and letting the likes of Sacha Baron Cohen (Abbie Hoffman) and Eddie Redmayne (Tom Hayden) handle the rest.

There are portions of this film that work, which makes it all the worse when Sorkin decides to tinker with the story. The actual courtroom was something of a circus; Hoffman and fellow Yippies co-counder Jerry Rubin (played by Jeremy Strong) did pull a lot of the antics you see in the film, the judge (Frank Langella, good in a one-note role) really was this crooked, and what happens to Bobby Seale in the movie did happen in the real trial. So why would Sorkin insert so much fiction into this narrative? Why would he have the pacifist David Dellinger (John Carroll Lynch) punch a bailiff in the courtroom, when no such thing happened? Why do we get this fake honeytrap storyline around Rubin, with an FBI agent who never existed? Why wouldn’t Sorkin show any of the testimony from the many celebrities, including Phil Ochs, Judy Collins, and Allen Ginsburg, who did appear at the real trial? And the ending of the film, while certainly stirring, is a complete fantasy, and it is maddening that Sorkin decided that actual history wasn’t good enough for him or for us.

Cohen may not quite have the most screen time, but he’s clearly the star of the film, and if anyone gets a nomination for this movie – and the oddsmakers have it getting a whole bushel – it should be him. The secondary framing device showing Hoffman retelling the story of the protests and trial during a standup routine doesn’t work either, but Cohen is tremendous inside the courtroom and in the flashbacks, especially when he’s on the stand – he and Rubin were the only two of the seven to testify – and we get more of Hoffman than just the wisecracks. It’s not really an Oscar-worthy performance because the role itself is too slight, but Cohen runs it right up to its ceiling. Rylance also stands out for his performance here, also in a limited role, and this might be the movie that truly deserves the Best Ensemble Cast award rather than any individual honors.

How this got a nomination for the Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture – Drama over Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom or The Nest, to name just two superior films, is beyond me. It’s entertaining, beyond a doubt; the movie never drags, and Sorkin can write some great dialogue, but this script is too bombastic, too overwritten, and, weird as it is to say, too slanted in favor of the defendants to call it a great work of art. I’m not even arguing for the side of the prosecution and certainly not the cops, not one of whom was convicted of any crime in connection with the riot they started, but Sorkin is trying so hard to canonize these seven men that he often turns them into cartoon characters. They can be heroes without Sorkin’s help, and the film is worse for his efforts.

One Night in Miami.

One Night in Miami marks the directorial debut of Oscar-winning actress Regina King, and seems set to earn a passel of nominations, including one for King and one for Leslie Odom, Jr., the current favorite to win Best Supporting Actor. It’s originally a play by Kemp Powers, but King expands the zone here to avoid the often claustrophobic sense we can get when scripts move from stage to screen, the result gives the four lead actors room not just to breathe but to fill out their roles as four towering figures in Black history. (It’s available on Amazon Prime.)

The night in question is February 25th, 1964, when Cassius Clay defeated Sonny Liston at the Hampton House in Miami, a significant upset at the time that was followed ten days later by Clay’s announcement that he had joined the Nation of Islam and would thenceforth be known as Muhammad Ali. The script brings together Clay/Ali (Eli Goree), Nation of Islam leader Malcolm X (Kingsley Ben-Adir), singer-songwriter Sam Cooke (Odom Jr.), and NFL star Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge), who had just rushed for a record 1863 yards and would later lead the Browns to the NFL championship that December. The four men engage in a wide-ranging and often contentious conversation about the civil rights struggle, their roles in it, and what responsibilities they might have given their platforms.

The script is talky, like most plays, but with four lead characters and multiple side characters appearing (two played by actors from The Wire), it doesn’t feel so much like you’re watching a play on screen, and King’s direction – particularly the shifting camera angles – gives the audience more the sense of being in the room while the characters are talking. The dialogue is quick, alternating between banter and more serious philosophical commentary (as well as some insults), so the pace only lags when we get one of the four men away from the others. And all four of these men deliver performances that would be strong enough to lead the film if there weren’t three other guys doing the same thing.

Odom, Jr., is masterful as Sam Cooke, the least militant man in the room by a mile, who comes under fire from the other men for their perception that he’s selling out, as an artist and as a Black man, for money and fame, although he has a rejoinder to the argument and the debate circles onward. All four men get their fair share of dialogue, but Malcolm X is probably the next most important character to the plot, and Ben-Adir is just as good as Odom Jr. – perhaps aided by the makeup, hair, and glasses that make him a reasonable likeness for the man he’s portraying, but also because his character might have the most emotional range of the four. Ben-Adir has to give us Malcolm X the confident firebrand, and Malcolm X the ordinary human, with large ambitions and deep self-doubts. And his character is the straw that stirs the drink of this particular conversation (which did really happen, although we don’t know what was discussed).

The four men are certainly more complicated than the script allows, and in some ways it makes Cooke and Brown seem more heroic than they were or are. Cooke had multiple issues with women and was killed in highly dubious circumstances. Brown’s history of violence against women and men was well-documented thirty-plus years ago, before the cultural awareness of domestic violence was a fraction of what it is today. If you knew nothing of Brown before watching One Night in Miami, you’d think he was a pretty cool cat, but this is a decidedly one-sided view of a man with a long history of domestic violence allegations.

King has done something quite marvelous here by making a stage play feel less like a stage play than just about any recent film I’ve seen that made the same shift to the big screen. The film hums along, and there’s so much good dialogue here that I’d like to watch it again to see if I missed anything – and I say that as someone who almost never re-watches films, and certainly not twice in quick succession. Much of the praise for Onie Night in Miami might be because the film and its subject are important and timely, but don’t lose sight of the fact that this is a good story, well-acted and well-told, regardless of the moment in which it appears.