2026 Oscar Predictions

Over the past decade or so the Oscars have been getting harder and harder to predict. You can chalk it up to the preferential ballot system or an influx of new voters, but the shift is undeniable. And though we're free to speculate how we got here, there's no denying the fact there's never been a year quite like this one, where every major category is up for grabs. Picture, Director, Actor, Supporting Actor and Supporting Actress could all be decided by a coin flip, which should both excite and frustrate viewers following along with their scorecards. 

There's also an unprecedented scenario where a film championed as the clear favorite all season suddenly feels vulnerable as we head into the home stretch. Sinners may have earned a record breaking 16 nominations but One Battle After Another was always the film to beat, at least until very recently, further proving just how important it is to peak at the right time. Or in this case, the moment voters start receiving their ballots. So even if its nomination tally is out of hand, there's no denying the outpouring of support for Sinners, even if I find OBAA to be a far more deserving winner and legitimately the year's best.  

Had votes been counted a month or two ago this would a completely different conversation, but any perceived bump OBAA got from real world events was brief, opening the door for Sinners across numerous categories previously thought to be out of reach. But is it too late? We'll soon find out the answer to that and whether early frontrunner Timothée Chalamet did really sabotage his Best Actor chances when Conan O' Brien returns to host the show this Sunday. 

Statistics always play a role but they've never felt less important than in contests as close as these. Sometimes it's best to just follow your gut, buckle up and enjoy the ride since it's looking like we could have another Crash vs. Brokeback or Moonlight vs. La La Land on our hands. Below are my predictions, along with an analysis of the top races, including that brand new casting category.           

 

*Predicted Winners   

 

ANIMATED FEATURE
Arco
Elio
KPop Demon Hunters
Little Amélie or the Character of Rain
Zootopia 2

ANIMATED SHORT
Butterfly
Forevergreen
The Girl Who Cried Pearls
Retirement Plan
The Three Sisters

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
The Alabama Solution
Come See Me in the Good Light
Cutting Through Rocks
Mr. Nobody Against Putin
The Perfect Neighbor

DOCUMENTARY SHORT
All the Empty Rooms
Armed Only With a Camera: The Life and Death of Brent Renaud
Children No More: Were and Are Gone
The Devil Is Busy
Perfectly a Strangeness

INTERNATIONAL FEATURE
The Secret Agent (Brazil)
It Was Just an Accident (France)
Sentimental Value (Norway)
Sirat (Spain)
The Voice of Hind Rajab (Tunisia)

LIVE ACTION SHORT 
Butcher's Stain
A Friend of Dorothy
Jane Austen's Period Drama
The Singers
Two People Exchanging Saliva 

FILM EDITING
F1
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
Sentimental Value
Sinners

SOUND
F1
Frankenstein
One Battle After Another
Sinners
Sirat

PRODUCTION DESIGN
Frankenstein
Hamnet
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
Sinners

COSTUME DESIGN
Avatar: Fire and Ash
Frankenstein
Hamnet
Marty Supreme
Sinners

ORIGINAL SCORE
Bugonia
Frankenstein
Hamnet
One Battle After Another
Sinners

ORIGINAL SONG
"Dear Me" (Diane Warren: Relentless)
"Golden" (KPop Demon Hunters)
"I Lied to You" (Sinners) 
"Sweet Dreams of Joy" (Viva Verdi!)
“Train Dreams” (Train Dreams)

MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING
Frankenstein
Kokuho
Sinners
The Smashing Machine
The Ugly Stepsister

VISUAL EFFECTS
Avatar: Fire and Ash
F1
Jurassic World: Rebirth
The Lost Bus
Sinners

CINEMATOGRAPHY
Frankenstein
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
Sinners
Train Dreams

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Bugonia
Frankenstein
Hamnet
One Battle After Another 
Train Dreams

Though nearly every "major" race is tight, we can at least exclude this one, which is among the few where OBAA isn't competing against its top adversary. Paul Thomas Anderson's script has been locked as the screenplay winner for months having swept Critics Choice, Golden Globe, BAFTA and WGA. It also hasn't wavered or shown the same holes here as in other categories, mostly due to a lack of competition. As the most prestigious and literary of the bunch, Hamnet stands the next best chance, followed by Frankenstein, Bugonia and Train Dreams, but all are real long shots in comparison. Enjoy this predictability while it lasts.        

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Blue Moon
It Was Just an Accident
Marty Supreme
Sentimental Value
Sinners

Sinners is on a similar screenplay trajectory with Ryan Coogler securing Critics Choice, BAFTA and the WGA, making a loss here virtually impossible, even on this night. It Was Just an Accident and Sentimental Value are underdogs that don't pose a serious threat and we've since come a long way from Marty Supreme being considered a frontrunner. Blue Moon is highly respected, but it boasts only one other nomination in Ethan Hawke. So at the end of the first round, you can say that OBAA and Sinners tie with a screenplay win each.         

CASTING
Hamnet
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
Sinners
The Secret Agent

Remember how excited everyone was when the Academy announced they'd finally be instituting a casting award? It's safe to say we all were until seeing the actual nominees and realizing that voters merely cut and pasted half the Best Picture category. Maybe part of the problem (aside from us lacking a concrete explanation of the qualifications) is that great casting is just so subjective and indeterminable, with even some classic films managing to succeed despite the lack of it.    

The standout here is Marty Supreme, as casting directors filled major and minor roles with a plethora of outside the box performers who were perfectly suited for their parts, trained actor or not. But since this is mostly a popularity contest, Sinners' recent ensemble SAG win should help that close the deal. It's a shame voters managed to blow such a promising opportunity, opting instead to insert the same group of titles we'll be bombarded with all night.        

SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Elle Fanning (Sentimental Value)
Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas (Sentimental Value)
Amy Madigan (Weapons)
Wunmi Mosaku (Sinners)
Teyana Taylor (One Battle After Another)

This extremely close three-way race might be the toughest to call of any category. Taylor has the Globe, Mosaku won BAFTA and Madigan's back in the forefront with her surprising SAG win. While all three leap through the screen with their performances, the latter has the showiest role of the bunch as Weapons' unforgettably creepy Aunt Gladys. Plus she's an industry vet fellow actors will want to reward for decades worth of great work, as proven by the response she drew for the SAG speech. Then again, she's the movie's sole nomination, could face genre bias and voters might decide to overlook her in favor of an up-and-comer, as they did with Demi Moore last year.  

OBAA's Taylor would have been considered a lock just a couple of months ago, but she actually hasn't fallen that far, making it a safe bet her brief but powerful turn as Perfidia is still at the forefront of voters' minds. Sinners' Mosaku went from not even being on the radar for a nod to potential spoiler who's now suddenly riding a wave of momentum heading into the ceremony. If she can come through we'll at least have a pretty good idea how the film's chances stand in bigger categories. 

Sentimental Value actresses Fanning and Ibsdotter will get a "thank you for coming," as they're unlikely to earn enough votes to make any serious dent, perhaps even cancelling each other out. A race this close barely favors Madigan, but a lack of precursor wins and Weapons' absence in the Best Picture category gives me pause. Still, that recent SAG victory puts her over the top.                    

SUPPORTING ACTOR
Benicio Del Toro (One Battle After Another)
Jacob Elordi (Frankenstein)
Delroy Lindo (Sinners)
Sean Penn (One Battle After Another)
Stellan Skarsgård (Sentimental Value)

Early favorite Skarsgård doesn't even seem to be in the conversation anymore, Elordi never was and a fantastic Del Toro suffers from having to split votes with his OBAA co-star. That leaves us with Penn and Lindo in one of the more highly anticipated contests of the night. For all the hype surrounding Lindo, you haven't heard much about the actual performance, which didn't feel award worthy to me, at least on an initial viewing. But this is a career achievement prize above all else and there's no better way to honor a great, highly respected actor in his seventies who's inexplicably gone decades without a nomination until now. 

Lindo's narrative may be too too strong to ignore, but so is Penn's disturbing, explosively bizarre performance as Colonel Steven J. Lockjaw, which ideally fits the template of a supporting Oscar winner. While the actor isn't widely beloved and will likely be skipping the ceremony, that didn't stop voters from awarding him twice before and won't again now. The only question left is whether this flood of adoration for Sinners is enough to power Lindo over the finish line. Maybe, but Penn's recent SAG win raised his stock considerably.          

ACTRESS
Jessie Buckley (Hamnet)
Rose Byrne (If I Had Legs I’d Kick You)
Kate Hudson (Song Sung Blue)
Renate Reinsve (Sentimental Value)
Emma Stone (Bugonia)

Those speculating that The Bride's box office failure could spell trouble for Buckley should remember it was released after ballots were already turned in. But it's not like this would make a bit of difference anyway since she's the lockiest of locks, winning every precursor imaginable since the season started. Globes, Critics Choice, BAFTA, SAG. So she could have starred in a Norbit sequel and it still wouldn't have hurt her chances. It's just the right role at the right time for the right actress, creating an overwhelming consensus that none of her fellow nominees can compete with. It's also the only performance here that doesn't come down to a matter of taste, with even those lukewarm on the film praising her tremendous work in it. 

Rose Byrne is probably in second place, but the movie's underseen, causing her performance to fly under the radar, with most only talking about how trying it is to sit through. Two-time Oscar winner Stone would be my personal pick for her complex turn as an abducted CEO in the mind blowing Bugonia, but with Buckley in the race, she won't be getting a third statue. Hudson's nod for Song Sung Blue feels reminiscent of Sandra Bullock's for The Blind Side, but minus the win. This makes Reinsve the odd woman out for Sentimental Value, but given the competition, that's nothing to be ashamed of. Buckley has it in the bag.         

ACTOR
Timothée Chalamet (Marty Supreme)
Leonardo DiCaprio (One Battle After Another)
Ethan Hawke (Blue Moon)
Michael B. Jordan (Sinners)
Wagner Moura (The Secret Agent)

It's not voters' jobs to "humble" actors but sometimes they just can't help themselves, even when only the quality of a performance should matter. Chalamet was probably rehearsing his acceptance speech up until a couple of weeks ago when Michael B. Jordan so shockingly won the SAG that even he couldn't believe it, appearing genuinely stunned. 

Combine that with Chalamet's campaign flying off the rails, Marty Supreme losing momentum and just the overall vibe in that room after Jordan won suggests he's no longer the underdog for his dual role as twins Smoke and Stack. Did Chalamet really just cost himself the Oscar? Well, he's probably not winning, although there's no way to know if Jordan would have closed the gap anyway. The shame is that Chalamet's performance is better, but he'll now have to wait his turn like others before him. And you can bet his publicist will be keeping him on a shorter leash next time. 

The idea that the two fronrunners will somehow cancel each other out and The Secret Agent's untested Wagner Moura will swoop in to take the trophy is wishful thinking at best. Blue Moon just hasn't had enough of a presence outside Hawke's performance to give him a chance, with his deserved first nomination feeling like an award in itself. Leo was always top of mind for his stoned out, washed up revolutionary in OBAA without ever really being considered a strong possibility to win. The safe money's on Jordan, who's someone very few would have predicted even just last month.               

DIRECTOR
Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle After Another)
Ryan Coogler (Sinners)
Josh Safdie (Marty Supreme)
Joachim Trier (Sentimental Value)
Chloé Zhao (Hamnet)

Here's one category Sinners hasn't been able to shake up, if only because the groundswell of support for Paul Thomas Anderson winning his long overdue Academy Award seems unanimous, regardless of what happens elsewhere. PTA sweeping all four major precursors isn't just an indicator that OBAA is still holding strong, but that Ryan Coogler hasn't been able to get a foothold into this race despite all his film's other accolades. 

Of course, we could have a Picture/Director split, but even that's unlikely to stop PTA from walking away with an honor he should have received at least three or four movies ago. OBAA also struck a universal chord, revealing even more dimensions to his talent and connecting with the mainstream audiences in a way few would have expected. Even better, this isn't some "make up" Oscar, as most wouldn't hesitate placing it toward the top of his filmography. 

Aside from Coogler, the rest of the nominees don't really stand a chance since you could have easily changed out any of the three remaining directors and gotten the same result. If PTA somehow loses this to Coogler (which is possible) you can kiss OBAA's chances at the big prize goodbye. Conversely, if he wins, that still doesn't ensure a Best Picture victory. It's a tough spot to be in.             

BEST PICTURE
Bugonia
F1
Frankenstein
Hamnet
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
The Secret Agent
Sentimental Value
Sinners
Train Dreams 

Since we have to cancel out any film without a Director nomination, we'll say goodbye to my Bugonia, F1 (a requisite big box office inclusion), Frankenstein, The Secret Agent and an underappreciated Train Dreams. Marty Supreme is amazing but its momentum stalled along with Chalamet's. Hamnet and Sentimental Value are arthouse endeavors lacking the broad appeal to break through, even as the former still sits comfortably in third place.  

On paper, this race should have been over months ago, but many mitigating factors are at play, a few of which only came into view within the past couple of weeks. OBAA impressively won PGA, DGA and WGA, failing only to clinch that SAG Ensemble, which went to a surging Sinners. But unfortunately no film has ever won Best Picture on just that victory alone. 

Further working in OBAA's favor is that only three films in history managed to lose the big one after winning three of the four major guilds. That's a glaring stat but also somewhat misleading when you consider those losses predate the Academy's preferential voting system, which would seem to favor a popular crowd pleaser like Sinners. A combination of industry support following that unfortunate BAFTA incident and the enthusiastic reaction to those SAG wins have helped give it a huge bump at crunch time, only increasing its chances at defying the odds. 

While firsts happen and it remains entirely possible all previously held stats can just break, OBAA dominated the season, leaving little time for Sinners to stake its claim. But it's still feasible Oscar voters' minds were made up and one SAG Ensemble win wasn't going to make a difference. So I'm reluctantly going with OBAA, acknowledging that chance Sinners could very well pull off the upset. 

Train Dreams

Director: Clint Bentley
Starring: Joel Edgerton, Felicity Jones, Kerry Condon, William H. Macy, Will Patton, Nathaniel Arcand, John Diehl, Paul Schneider, Clifton Collins Jr., Alfred Hsing
Running Time: 102 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Clint Bentley's unforgettable Train Dreams is about a seemingly ordinary man plagued by the feeling something terrible will happen. Though he has a dangerous job, it isn't risky in ways we'd typically expect, even as death surrounds him at every turn, waiting indiscriminately for the next opportunity to strike. Without so much as a hint of manipulation, the film deliberately unfolds, and while hauntingly beautiful to look at, there's also a constant sense of dread hanging over the story that just won't go away. And it isn't long before we discover why. 

Its measured, evocative pacing may prompt complaints from detractors claiming the film "doesn't go anywhere" or lacks a narrative drive, but those fortunate enough to get on its wavelength will discover the most powerful of cinematic experiences. Based on Denis Johnson's 2011 novella of the same title, it features a protagonist who could easily represent the hundreds of thousands who worked, lived and struggled to survive in a previous era, only to be forgotten by history. But through him, Bentley's able to show how everyone's stories and contributions can carry over generations, whether they're openly acknowledged or not.  

It's the start of the twentieth century when orphaned child Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton) arrives in Idaho on the Great Northern Railway, eventually dropping out of school to work as a railroad laborer. But his fortunes change when he meets Gladys Olding (Felicity Jones) at church and they form an instant connection, marrying and settling in a riverside log cabin with new baby daughter Kate. 

When Robert takes a construction job with the Spokane International Railway, he's not just dismayed by long stretches away from his family, but traumatized after watching the brutal, senseless murder of a Chinese crew member (Alfred Hsing). Haunted by nightmarish visions of the immigrant, he takes up seasonal logging work, which exposes him to colorful personalities like ornery fellow logger Arn Peeples (William H. Macy). Witnessing further tragedy on the job and facing financial hardship, Robert makes plans with Gladys to build a lumber mill and work closer to home. But the worst still awaits, unexpectedly altering his life's trajectory.

A character study from birth to death, Bentley's script (co-written with Greg Kwedar) and direction is effortless in capturing the serene rhythms of everyday, whether that's scenes of Robert and Gladys marking the location of their future home or the inescapable darkness that descends upon him in the film's second half. It's an event of such magnitude that it doesn't seem real for a shattered Robert who's constantly alone, regardless of whether he has any company. And even in the few precious moments he's able to appreciate what surrounds him, he sees a world he no longer recognizes or fits into.

Edgerton delivers the best work of his career, carrying lengthy, languid sequences while silently registering the emotional agony across Robert's bearded, aging face. When given a screen partner to bounce off or react to, he still manages to convey a sense of complete isolation, becoming this withdrawn observer to his own existence. But if the literary voiceover is correct in assuming the best anyone can hope for is to be remembered, there's still more than a few people willing to vouch for him. 

Most memorable is the gruff, sarcastic Arn, who's played by an unrecognizable William H. Macy in a transcendent performance that's short on minutes but immeasurable in impact. Hiding behind a thick, gray mustache, smoking his pipe and speaking with a distinctive backwoods drawl, he's a brutally honest storyteller with the heart of a philosopher. And while a whole separate film could focus entirely on him, that would undermine his primary purpose as the kind of kooky, fascinating character who exits our lives as quickly as he appears, leaving behind a lasting impression along with some indispensable nuggets of wisdom.  

Time stands still as Robert attempts to make sense of it all, sleeping in the rain while tormented by his own guilt at being unable to stop the unstoppable. Sympathetic shop owner Ignatius (Nathaniel Arcand), scrapes the logger up at his lowest, helping him reenter a society far different than anything he's known. Faced with the cruel reality his logging days have passed, he'll find work as a local carriage driver, meeting a kind free spirit in Forest Service surveyor Claire (Kerry Condon). 

Eerily invoking a great American novel, Patton's narration is soothing, unobtrusive and plain spoken all at once, as if hearing an echo from the distant past. And in painting a vivid portrait of the Pacific Northwest with natural light, Adolpho Veloso's cinematography evokes memory and nostalgia that's only accentuated by a hypnotizing score from The National's Bryce Dessner. All these elements converge to create an ethereal aesthetic that earns justifiable comparisons to Terrence Malik's Days of Heaven and The Tree of Life. 

Despite many deserved accolades, Bentley's film has managed to fly under the radar in the midst of showier competition, which isn't an indicator of its quality. If anything, a muted reception is more appropriately aligned with the contemplative journey depicted on screen. Quietly anchored by an actor who hasn't gotten nearly enough accolades, it feels like a micro masterpiece observed over a single lifetime and somehow squeezed into 102 minutes. But what a trip it is. Filled with joy, despair, hope and tragedy, the film's final few minutes hit hard, lingering in our minds long after the credits roll. 

Marty Supreme

Director: Josh Safdie
Starring: Timothée Chalamet. Gwyneth Paltrow, Odessa A'zion, Kevin O'Leary, Tyler Okonma, Abel Ferrara, Fran Drescher, Luke Manley, Emory Cohen, Larry Sloman, Ralph Colucci, Géza Röhrig, Koto Kawaguchi, Pico Iyer, John Catsimatidis, Sandra Bernhard, George Gervin, Ted Williams, Penn Jillette, Isaac Mizrahi, David Mamet, Fred Hechinger, Levon Hawke, Phillipe Petit
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

The biggest surprise to come out of Josh Safdie's semi-biographical table tennis drama Marty Supreme isn't how much is constantly happening, but the frenetic, breakneck pace at which it all occurs. In fact, there's such a dizzying abundance of side quests, odd characters and cleverly constructed scenes you'll probably need a scorecard to keep track. And that's not even accounting for the myriad of familiar faces popping up throughout, many of whom aren't actors, but various pop culture personalities who seamlessly acclimate themselves into Safdie's period specific universe. 

Full of wild excursions and sub-plots, the action revolves around a cocky, unlikable main character with a single goal: letting the world know he's the best. But he's also a liar, conman and egotistical scam artist who won't hesitate stepping over everyone as he claws and scratches his way to the top. At one point he matter-of-factly predicts he'll be on a Wheaties box without so much as a hint of irony or doubt. For him, it's all about reaching the coveted World Championships, with all of the film's creatively calamitous detours existing in the service of getting him there.

It's New York City in 1952 and shoe salesman Marty Mouser (Timothée Chalamet) is working at his uncle Murray's (Larry Sloman) shop while competing professionally as a table tennis player. On the cusp of being promoted to store manager, he's having on an affair with married childhood friend Rachel (Odessa A'zion), even as his sights remain set on playing in the British Open. But when a broke Marty can't convince his uncle to give him money for the trip, he takes drastic action, arriving at the tournament only to lose in the finals to deaf Japanese rival Koto Endo (real life table tennis player Koto Kawaguchi). 

While in London, Marty starts another affair with former actress Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow), whose wealthy pen magnate husband Milton Rockwell (Kevin O' Leary) makes him a lucrative offer to lose an exhibition match to Endo in Japan. Taking this as an insult, Marty continues touring with friend and former champion Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig) as an opening act for the Harlem Globetrotters until he faces a stiff ITTA fine and possible ban for his unprofessional tournament conduct. After desperately convincing taxi driver pal Wally (Tyler Okonma) to help him hustle local players for cash, chaos ensues, forcing Marty to rethink Rockwell's offer, even if that means sacrificing his integrity for cash and a chance at competing in the World Championships. 

Though Marty and Rockwell are at odds from the moment they meet, both could believably benefit from this proposed business arrangement since each are selfishly motivated by their separate desires to see the sport's popularity take off in America. For Marty, it can mean greater exposure and fame while Rockwell sees dollar signs, not to mention the opportunity to exploit a brash young punk he'll tolerate just long enough to get what he wants.  

While the title character is loosely based on late table tennis champion Marty Reisman, that's where most of the similarities between reality and fiction end, with Safdie concocting a heightened version of the actual person and using the period setting as his primary inspiration. Ironically enough, the very idea of a scripted corporate sponsored exhibition match might be the film's timeliest aspect considering how often these pre-determined corporate sports events are still held, sadly demonstrating the almighty dollar's ability to override the thrill of competition. 

Marty's discomfort with throwing a match for money and his undeterred tenacity could be seen as the aspiring champ's only redeeming qualities. It's just too bad he keeps using every friend and family member who helps him, whether that's his uncle, mother (Fran Drescher), girlfriend or even total strangers he encounters along the way. And yet despite sleeping with Rockwell's morose, frustrated wife and insulting his late son, he still manages to come across as the ultimate underdog in comparison since their power dynamic is so severely unbalanced. 

Under different circumstances, Rockwell could be considered a somewhat sympathetic character for putting up with Marty, but since he's played by Shark Tank's "Mr. Wonderful" Kevin O' Leary in his acting debut, there's little chance of that. Safdie transposing TV's most recognizably greedy capitalist into the 1950's is a masterstroke, mainly because he's unsurprisingly great at adapting his own outsized persona into such an environment. In actuality, O'Leary goes a few layers deeper, like when delivering Rockwell's metaphorical vampire speech, claiming to have met and destroyed countless Martys over his lifetime. We believe him, just as we recognize how the thought of working with the Japanese who killed his son hasn't ever entered his mind. It's just business.

Marty also knows a lot about compartmentalizing, having screwed and backstabbed to finance a trip that may not even happen unless the idea of consequences start sinking in. His worst behavior comes out in the film's exhilarating middle section when endless scheming unleashes a crazy chain of events involving a mobster (Abel Ferrrara), his missing dog, a gas station fire, a trigger happy farmer (Penn Jillette) and a thwarted venture with hapless friend Dion (Luke Manley) involving orange table tennis balls ("spheres'). And Safdie somehow manages to have it all converge, leading Marty to his lowest point, abandoning a very pregnant Rachel to follow his dream at the worst possible moment.

If Marty's no prize, neither is retired actress and Rockwell's trophy wife Kay, who fills the void of her monotonous, miserable existence with this younger man. While Paltrow's casting could have similarly come across as a stunt, she delivers some of her most memorable work following what's been a nearly seven-year acting hiatus. There's this cold sadness to Kay, who sleepwalks through life without so much as a smile until Marty briefly reignites in her a spark to perform again. It's a strictly physical relationship of convenience for both until they actually start spending time with each other and realize just how bad an idea it is. Or at least she does. 

If O' Leary proves how often non-actors can add dimensions of authenticity, this also extends to the smaller supporting roles and cameos Safdie uses to fill the corners of his world. Hardly a scene passes where there isn't some recognizable face, even when it takes a minute to place them. Whether it's Ferrara, Jillette, Tyler, the Creator, internet personality Manley, fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi, writer/director David Mamet, "Man on Wire" Phillip Petite, billionaire businessman John Catsimatidis or "The Man with the Golden Voice" Ted Williams, their presence helps make everything feel a little more real. Far from a distraction, it further draws us in, while Jack Fisk's production design and Miyako Bellizzi's costuming handle much of the heavy lifting. 

Though he's constantly scrapping by, we're given fleeting glimpses of Marty's loyalty buried beneath the bravado. But even when he's right, he still manages to express himself so arrogantly that no reasonable person would bother sticking around to listen. These are only a few of the contradictions a brilliant Chalamet brings to a character audiences won't necessarily like, but find complicated and complex enough to warrant redemption. Since there are numerous ways to read the ending, it's not entirely clear whether he gets it, leaving us with something that might appear to resemble a smidgen of growth, depending on your interpretation.   

Being recognized as champion is Marty's answer to everything, even if he can't help but let his pride and insecurity get in the way. No one wants to willingly help an abrasive jerk so he manipulates whoever he encounters, constantly failing upwards to reach the next level. But over the course of the story you sense he's resorting to those tactics out of pure survival instincts rather than any calculated plan. It's just who he is. And since having heroic protagonists shouldn't be a prerequisite, a certain comfort comes from knowing Marty won't ever be mistaken for one, making his twisted, energetic journey that much more exciting.

The Housemaid

Director: Paul Feig
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Amanda Seyfried, Brandon Sklenar, Michele Morrone, Elizabeth Perkins, Indiana Elle, Amanda Joy Erickson, Megan Ferguson, Ellen Tamaki
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Paul Feig's The Housemaid is the kind of stylishly silly throwback thriller they don't make enough of anymore, or at least not this well. Just when you think it's winding down is when it really gets going as a relatively straightforward premise flies off the rails in the best possible way. And while feelings may vary on how effectively the film reconciles its two distinct sections, it remains committed enough to its trashiness that you can't help but be on board. Everyone involved knew exactly what they're making and it shows, especially as the situation grows nuttier by the minute.  

Rather than questioning why a character didn't do this or that or nitpicking about the details, you'll spend  more time awkwardly rooting for an extra-marital affair you know is coming. But even as its campy scenario descends into "MeToo" era melodrama with a side plate of torture porn, this never wavers in tone, earning a leeway so many entertainingly bad movies in its genre don't. And for that and more, it's definitely Feig's most audacious directorial effort yet, if not his craziest. 

On parole and living out of her car, Millie Calloway (Sweeney) is hired by Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried) as a live-in housekeeper, arriving at the Great Neck, Long Island mansion she shares with wealthy tech mogul husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) and daughter Cece (Indiana Elle). And after impressing a seemingly pleasant and accommodating Nina in her interview, Millie's hired and given the attic guestroom and a new phone. Soon, she's cleaning, running errands and picking up Cece from dance class, only to find Nina's treatment of her starts becoming wildly unpredictable and downright abusive. 

Whether Nina's screaming at Millie for some imagined indiscretion or threatening to fire her for no good reason at all, she quickly realizes this woman's psychotic, a theory confirmed by Nina's chatty, backstabbing housewife clique. Desperate to keep this job as a condition of her parole, Millie finds support from the kind, laid-back Andrew, who's equally repulsed by his wife's behavior, which he attributes to a traumatic childhood event. But as Millie and Andrew grow closer, a jealous Nina becomes increasingly unhinged, setting off a dangerous series of events that causes everyone's secrets to spill.

When Millie first arrives at the Winchester house hidden behind a pair of mousey glasses, we immediately suspect she's hiding something, most likely related to her stint in prison for this unknown crime. Those unfamiliar with Freida McFadden's 2022 novel on which the film's based may assume she's running some sort of scam to fleece the family of their fortune. But while the theory's credible, it's also shelved right away, even as Millie's mysterious past remains an important detail that's touched upon throughout. 

As the story's self conscious narrator, Millie reveals flashes of her personality in scenes with her understanding parole officer or when quietly expressing concern over the obsessively detailed Nina somehow missing her criminal record in a background search. But in the meantime she contends with the boss from hell as Nina's initially warm, welcoming disposition quickly deteriorates, alternating between phony tradwife and irrational monster. All this as empathetic husband Andrew displays the patience of a saint, managing Nina's mental illness like a pro while also handling his snobby, perfectionist mother (an icy Elizabeth Perkins). 

Seyfried is extraordinary, cutting loose and chewing scenery like nobody's business in the type of  hysterically over-the-top turn only a great actress could get away with. You're on pins and needles anxiously awaiting what will set Nina off next, especially when Andrew offers the shell-shocked Millie a shoulder to cry on. And while he's no stranger to playing brooding, charismatic good guys in recent films like It Ends With Us and Drop, Skenlar does more here when Rebecca Sonnenshine's script pivots, giving him the chance to further stretch his acting muscles, with compelling results. 

That Sweeney's biggest box office success thus far comes in a sleazy psychosexual guilty pleasure rather than the supposedly more serious roles she's been taking on would feel ironic if she wasn't so excellent, skirting the line between vulnerable naiveté and opportunism. She leaves us guessing as we both cheer and dread Millie's inevitable connection with Andrew, buckling up for what's sure to be a bumpy ride. And without giving too much away, it isn't exactly a coincidence she was hired since every detail matters, whether it's related her own history, a nosy groundskeeper or water bottles left in the guest room fridge. 

What feels like the movie's peak becomes mere prologue once its big twist arrives, and regardless of whether you saw it coming, watching what unfolds is no less of a blast. The Housemaid probably isn't intended to withstand multiple viewings, but each of these actors impress with how deftly they change course once their characters' true intentions are revealed. When the turn arrives, this doesn't become a different film so much as an insanely amped up, addictive extension of what we were already watching. And in this case, that's not a bad thing at all.                                    

Hamnet

Director: Chloé Zhao
Starring: Jessie Buckley, Paul Mescal, Emily Watson, Joe Alwyn, Jacobi Jupe, Olivia Lynes, Justine Mitchell, David Wilmot, Bodhi Rae Breathnach, Freya Hannan-Mills, James Skinner, Elliot Baxter, Dainton Anderson, Louisa Harland, Noah Jupe
Running Time: 126 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Those going into Chloé Zhao's Hamnet have already been warned to prepare themselves for the film's defining event, but it's really the painfully raw, unforgiving aftermath that makes this such an affecting watch. Far from a William Shakespeare biopic, the legendary dramatist's professional reputation is rarely addressed, nor is he even necessarily the main protagonist of a movie centered around a pivotal point in his life. Instead, he's seen through the eyes of wife Agnes, who recognizes him as a husband and father rather than the playwright he's toiling away to become. 

While much of what Zhao and co-writer/author Maggie O' Farrell covers is almost entirely speculative, it's rooted in a slice of forgotten, barely acknowledged history still completely unfamiliar to most. And that's why what occurs over the course of these absorbing two hours seems so shocking, as if we've entered territory we're not quite ready for, regardless of any foreshadowing. And though we've seen numerous interpretations of Shakespeare's Hamlet, this hinges on a larger story about love and loss filtered through an absorbing hypothetical about the play's creation.  

It's 16th century England and struggling writer William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) is working as a Latin tutor when he's immediately smitten with falconer Agnes (Jessie Buckley). Despite strong objections from his mother Mary (Emily Watson) who believes her to be the daughter of a forest witch, Agnes becomes pregnant with their first child, Susanna. But after Agnes is disowned by stepmother Joan (Justine Mitchell), and moves in with Will's family, her brother Bartholomew (Joe Alwyn) arranges for Will to join a London theater company as she gives birth to twins.     

11 years pass, and while Will's career flourishes and frequently keeps him away from their Stratford-Upon-Avon home, twins Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe) and Judith (Olivia Lynes) are inseparable. But when the bubonic plague claims their only son, Agnes and Will's marriage deteriorates, with her resenting Will's extended absences as he continues to withdraw, immersing himself in his latest production. What she doesn't know is how he's been channeling this unimaginable anguish into what soon emerges as his most revered tragedy. 

The film begins with a title card stating how the names "Hamnet" and "Hamlet" are considered one in the same, giving us a clear indicator of the connection between Will's son and the play. There's also some misdirection happening in the first act, where viewers are privy to the fact that a death looms, with all signs pointing to their youngest, most vulnerable daughter Judith rather than her brother. That O' Farrell's novel and script creates this imaginary scenario loosely based on historical events blurs the line between fact and fiction, teasing catastrophe until the actual one arrives, shaking the foundation of a marriage that's already overcome considerable odds. 

Agnes and Will's unconventional pairing is so soundly rejected by their respective families that this Shakespearean origin story might share more similarities with the Bard's even more ubiquitous work about forbidden, star-crossed lovers than Hamlet. And while the ethereal forest scenes are gorgeously shot by cinematographer Łukasz Żal, they're juxtaposed against the pull of a dark, mysterious cave that portends impending doom. 

Lowly tutor Will's family begrudgingly accepts Agnes when her own stepmother doesn't, continuing a trend of abandonment that began after watching her biological mother die during childbirth as a little girl. This trauma manifests itself again with daughter Judith, the twin she most fears for, starting from her stillborn birth to when she later falls ill. But it's Hamnet's unbreakable loyalty to his sister that leads him to "take her place" in the film's most gut-wrenching section. It's also a frightening look at the absence of any effective medical treatment in the 16th century, where survival chances are comparable to a game of Russian roulette. 

In the wake of this horrific loss, Will's physical and emotional distance sends Agnes off the deep end, as does the notion he'd invoke their late son's name in his fictionalized play, seeming to only compound her suffering. But what Zhao does here is amazing since Hamlet actually has little, if anything, to do with Hamnet's death, yet still feels entirely about it in small, subtle ways only Agnes and Will would sense. As a result, watching her see it becomes just as hypnotizing as what's happening on stage. 

Mescal's complex, tormented turn, sheds light on Will's early frustration at being trapped in a job that suppresses creative ambitions his family can't possibly comprehend. He succeeds in getting out from under his father's thumb, but once tragedy strikes, the actor shows us a man incapable of externally expressing the guilt and sorrow that's broken him, instead directing it toward the only thing he knows. 

Buckley is a revelation as earthy healer Agnes, who basks in the joy of marriage and motherhood before circumstances intervene, sending her into a wild, inconsolable rage. Sharing an effortlessly natural chemistry with Mescal, she's called upon to ride a rollercoaster of highs and lows, right up until her character's heartbreaking catharsis in the film's final moments.Young Jacobi Jupe also leaves a lasting impression as the doomed Hamnet while his real life older brother Noah Jupe's portrayal of the actor playing Hamlet works as a projected image of Agnes's own son.  

Powered by two devastating performances, the film continuously builds momentum until we're given a rare glimmer of hope, if not the chance for this couple to somehow move forward. And while we've already seen numerous interpretations of Hamlet on stage and screen, it's never come with the benefit of speculating how or why it was conceived. Now viewed through an entirely different lens, audiences experience two overlapping tragedies, culminating in a drama that speaks to the endlessly complex relationship between grief and art.                                

Frankenstein

Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Jacob Elordi, Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz, Felix Kammerer, David Bradley, Lars Mikkelsen, Charles Dance, Christian Convery, Kyle Gatehouse, Lauren Collins, Sofia Galasso, Ralph Ineson, Burn Gorman, Nikolaj Lie Kaas
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)    

When it was announced the newest cinematic interpretation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein would hit Netflix after a brief theatrical run, a certain degree of skepticism seemed justifiable. Despite the great Guillermo del Toro at the helm, the idea of revisiting this property could still be seen as a pointless rehash, no matter how closely it aligns with the filmmaker's Gothic horror sensibilities. But with this doubt also comes advantages, such as visuals, costumes, makeup and production design that far exceed even our loftiest expectations. So in finally realizing his long gestating dream project, we recognize how del Toro's always been making some form of Frankenstein, only now getting the chance to make it official.   

For del Toro, the devil's in the details when retelling such a familiar tale, as he focuses intensely on the monster's relationship to both the world around him and his obsessively arrogant creator. What starts as a promising experiment soon turns into disaster, with the title character looking to fill the void of a tumultuous childhood while his hubris gets the better of him. Preoccupied with "beating death," he overlooks the potentially dire ramifications, lacking the patience and temperament necessary to control all its unpredictable elements.  

In 1857 a seriously injured Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) is found by Captain Anderson (Lars Mikkelsen), who takes him aboard his icebound Royal Danish Navy ship before the crew is attacked by an angry creature (Jacob Elordi) looking for Victor. As Anderson manages to temporarily keep it at bay, Victor recounts the events that lead him there, starting with an aristocratic upbringing defined by his strict father's (Charles Dance) abuse and the sudden death of his mother after giving birth to younger brother William. 

As an adult, Victor goes on to become a brilliant but egotistical surgeon obsessed with "curing" death by reanimating corpses. This impresses arms merchant Henrich Harlander (Christoph Waltz), who agrees to fund his work while brother William (Felix Kammerer) helps construct the laboratory. But this is complicated when Victor falls for William's fiancée and Henrich's daughter, Elizabeth (Mia Goth), despite her ambivalence toward him. After gathering body parts from dead soldiers, Victor readies his creation, only to discover the Creature's intellectual deficiencies. Frustrated, he abusively lashes out at the Creature, setting them on a dangerous path that will tragically alter everyone's lives. 

Cleanly broken into two parts, the film's bookended structure resembles something of a father-son therapy session, with Victor venting his troubles to the unsuspecting sea captain before the Creature tells his side of the story. We take both their descriptions at face value while recognizing it'll lead to a turning point where their bond crumbles. It's really how del Toro fills in those blanks that's most fascinating, showing how this couldn't have led to any outcome other than the doctor attempting to destroy his prized creation. 

These early scenes of young, impressionable Victor (Christian Convery) are some of the film's best, especially in terms of setting the stage for what's to come, as the off-the-wall surgeon becomes so enamored with his own idea he can't see the forest for the trees, much less the catastrophic consequences ahead. Piecing together a living being out of cadavers may be creepy, but the scariest problem is Victor's deep-seated desire to somehow rectify his childhood pain. Everything comes back to that, including his infatuation with the delicate, sensitive Elizabeth, who sees right through him when he starts mistreating the Creature. 

Casting the otherworldly Mia Goth in a Frankenstein movie is almost too good to be true, making it easy to guess which character will have the most empathy for an abused misfit, with Elizabeth caring just as much for this fragile creature as the insects she's fascinated by. And viewers will need to do a double take to notice Goth unrecognizably also appears earlier as young Victor's mother, Baroness Claire Frankenstein. Having her play both roles is clever mirroring by del Toro, subtly symbolizing how Victor's grief continues to manifest itself in romantic obsession. 

While Victor writes off the monster as an intellectual failure, Elizabeth sees only his innocence and intelligence, which infuriates the maniacal doctor as he searches for reasons why he shouldn't burn his creation alive. Hoping to hear him speak a word other than "Victor," the Creature answers with the one name capable of sending his master off the deep end, in the process shifting the story's focus to this abandoned monster's quest for family and acceptance.

The Creature finds that family on a farm, taking shelter while secretly helping them, but it's his friendship with their elderly blind patriarch (an exceptional David Bradley) that resonates strongest, ultimately proving Victor wrong. And yet the monster's still viewed as an outcast, destined to be ostracized on appearance alone. What eventually drives this kindred "Spirit of the Forest" from his new home reflects that, as the now verbose, fully functional beast hunts down the father who betrayed him. 

Elordi's transfixing performance goes well beyond embodying the Creature's physicality, unlocking a childlike sense of wonder and conflicted confusion we haven't seen to this extent in previous interpretations or even the original text. And if Elordi makes this more a parable about companionship and belonging than we ever assumed, Isaac ensures the mad doctor's childhood loss isn't far out of view, with Victor displaying genuine hesitancy during some of his more depraved moments. 

For Victor, any chance of redemption rapidly decreases when his creation comes back for revenge as the monster society decides he is, forcing his master to face consequences similar to others he selfishly put in harm's way. Michael would top that list, if only for underestimating just how damaged his big brother is, leaving him and Elizabeth helplessly vulnerable. The same can be said for Waltz's giddy Henrich, who initially seems to be Victor's kindred spirit, until his enthusiasm and desperation become a liability for the driven physician. But while the film's resolution is heartbreaking on many levels, there's hope of a new beginning on the horizon, at least for one of them.

Between the 1931 Karloff version, Kenneth Branagh's 1994 attempt and everything else in between, the biggest challenge facing del Toro was bringing something freshly imaginative to the table. But it turns out we were asking all the wrong questions, underestimating his ability to extract new truths from classic material. While still somehow barely deviating from the original text, he not only delivers the best modern take on Shelley's novel, but sets the new standard by which all future Frankenstein adaptations will be judged.                                                           

Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere

Director: Scott Cooper
Starring: Jeremy Allen White, Jeremy Strong, Paul Walter Hauser, Stephen Graham, Odessa Young, Gaby Hoffman, Marc Maron, David Krumholtz, Harrison Gilbertson, Grace Gummer, Chris Jaymes, Johnny Cannizzaro, Brian Chase
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

In Scott Cooper's low-key, surprisingly contemplative Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, we get a portrait of an uncompromising artist attempting to escape his past, his childhood, his own father and the  fame that began to engulf him in the early 80's. Bruce Springsteen's journey is recognizable, but that's less a flaw with the film than confirmation of how often personal pain powers the work and ambition required to achieve greatness. For Bruce, it was always about the music first, even as his celebrity became an unintended consequence he'd rather ignore. 

Problems often arise when films of this genre employ a traditionally linear approach, cutting corners and running through tired clichés to reach the finish line. So it's to Cooper's credit that he doesn't attempt to cram the entire life and career of the Boss into a two-hour window, instead staying true to Warren Zanes' 2023 book covering the creation of his riskiest album. It's more a fading snapshot of a specific era, with Bruce arriving at a personal and creative crossroads, painfully looking back while trying to move forward.  

It's 1981 when ascending rock star Bruce Springsteen (White) finishes the final leg of his sold-out The River tour and manager Jon Landau (Jeremy Strong) rents him a house in Colts Neck, New Jersey where he can quietly decompress. After stumbling upon the movie Badlands on TV, he starts researching notorious serial killer Charles Starkweather, using his story and the works of author Flannery O'Connor to craft new material. But the home's close proximity to the Freehold neighborhood where Bruce grew up brings back traumatic childhood memories of an alcoholic, mentally ill father Douglas (Stephen Graham), who physically and emotionally abused him and his mother Adele (Gaby Hoffman).  

Calling on his guitar tech Mike Batlan (Paul Walter Hauser) to bring in a four-track recorder, Bruce turns the bedroom into a makeshift studio where he begins writing a collection of somber songs influenced by his blue-collar upbringing. He also starts dating his old friend's sister Faye (Odessa Young), a single mom struggling to make ends meet. After hearing the somber tracks, Jon's perplexed by Bruce's refusal to alter or clean up the raw acoustic sound he perfected in that room. But as Jon faces the impossible task of convincing Columbia Records' exec Al Teller (David Krumholtz) to release the unmarketable Nebraska, Bruce is suffering from a bigger identity crisis than anyone realizes.

Watching this, you see how oddly fitting it is that Springsteen's most recognizable single came six years prior with "Born To Run," a title he appears to live by through much of the film. And though the pressure's on to top The River's enormous success, we're at least spared another rock star's descent into drug abuse and addiction, with the singer having already gotten a front row seat to those consequences as a child. Rather Bruce's demons come in the form of untreated depression, dimming the brightest moments and lessening what should be the highest of highs.  

Strange as it seems given Nebraska's esteemed standing in Bruce's catalogue, the album was actually a huge gamble that could have easily derailed his career. And a folk excursion coming off the heels of one of the artist's more commercially friendly periods only made it a tougher sell. But what's interesting about Cooper's script is how it doesn't necessarily present this undertaking as a choice so much as a flood of memories and influences converging at once, leaving him little option but to lower his guard and let them in. 

Absent among these demos is a radio ready hit like "Hungry Heart" or "Out in the Street," but that's inevitable given the stripped down circumstances under which they're produced. And Bruce won't budge on any of it, rejecting the idea of a tour, singles, promotion, or even his photo on the album's cover. But most importantly, the sound he created in that bedroom must be replicated as it was, minus the usual studio bells and whistles. Neither difficult or full of himself, he's just sure of his work in an era when even the most popular musicians were forced by suits to make crippling compromises. 

While now we know how far a record like this can go in enhancing an artist's discography, the notion of creative freedom or subverting expectations was foreign at the time, even if it bolsters their popularity once they eventually return to the sound with which fans are most familiar. So if it's painful for Jon and producer Chuck Plotkin (Marc Maron) to shelve future all-timers "Born in the U.S.A.," "Glory Days," "I'm Goin' Down" and "I'm on Fire," to accommodate Bruce's more muted vision, it all worked out in the end, with those abandoned tracks defining his legacy on the next album. 

Focusing on the concept album's construction makes this more palatable than it would otherwise be, even if 1950's black and white flashbacks to Bruce's abusive childhood might prompt complaints of Cooper following the genre's typical blueprint. In this case though, it's relevant to both the music's content and emotional scars that infiltrate every facet of the singer's life. This includes a meaningful relationship with Faye he can't help but sabotage, fearful of exposing a side of himself no one's permitted to see. 

Powered by Jeremy Allen White's transformative performance in the title role, we're reminded how singing is only half the battle, if that. Briefly convincing us he sounds good enough to pass muster in the concert scenes is one thing, but actually capturing the Boss's swagger and mannerisms is another challenge entirely, as the actor goes beyond imitation to dig deeper during his many quieter moments alone, haunted by the past. 

Strong leaves a lasting impression as Bruce's biggest advocate, shepherding the release of a possibly doomed album that only sees the light of day with his full support. Critical but realistic, he's a friend anyone would be lucky enough to also call their manager, as demonstrated by his receptive "wait and see" approach upon receiving the tape. His best scene comes opposite Krumholtz's exec, making it clear that his allegiance lies with Bruce, regardless of what the label wants. 

A biopic peppered by a series of depressing flashbacks is good cause for skepticism, but the tropes are mostly sidestepped by Graham's ice cold supporting turn and memories that pay off in Bruce's songwriting and eventual acceptance of where he came from. While the elder Springsteen may have done the best he could, his best happened to be terrible, which is something both need to work past. But in writing an album he didn't know needed to exist, Bruce lets it all pour out, intrinsically tying his music to the endeavor of creating it. Deliver Me From Nowhere is at its best when exploring that process, shedding light on how Nebraska eventually came to be.