Burning Questions From The 2021 Oscars

 

With viewers more unfamiliar than ever with the nominated films this year, isn't it strange they didn't open with a big montage?

Isn't this whole setup unusual, even considering?

Doesn't the old school dinner table layout look like something out of footage from 1950's Oscar telcasts?

Wasn't Regina King asked to handle a lot for someone who wasn't officially the "host?"  

Content aside, didn't she do pretty well? 

After the cool visual of her walking through Union Station with the Oscar, didn't everything just start going downhill?

Did any chance of the show providing an "escape" pretty much go out the window within the first few minutes?

Was reading those andecdotes for the nominees probably a better idea on paper than in execution?

Weren't they kind of long-winded?

Was this their big plan to make the show more exciting?

Were you worried they'd just continue this all night without showing any clips of the nominated films? 

When The Father won for screenplay, was I thinking it's too early to miss a big one like that already? 

Can anyone really argue with that winning? 

Did Laura Dern steal Bjork's Oscar dress?

Where can I get one of those Oscar lamps on everyone's tables?

When Laura Dern very sincerely started talking directly to the supporting nominees, did you wish they'd go back to reading those andecdotes? 

Did Daniel Kaluuya take full advantage of the fact there was seemingly no time limit put on the speeches or live orchestra to play him off? 

Have we lost faith that Steven Spielberg can direct something of supreme importance again?

Having your doubts West Side Story is that movie? 

They're doing Best Director NOW? 

Is Zhao's victory a spoiler warning for Best Picture?

Is shaking up the order of major awards the only noteworthy thing they've done with this show?

Did they just play "Live and Let Die" right after Zhao's emotional speech about her childhood? 

How can they show no clips of the nominated performances or films?  

Didn't it feel good not have multiple sound categories screwing up your scorecard?

Did you hear the announcer brag about the show "running on time?"

Is she counting her chickens before they hatch? 

Can we get an update on that in about an hour?

Were you thinking "Finally!" when they actually showed clips of the animated films? 

Is this the first time I've gotten both Animated and Live-Action Short?

Did it all go out the window with Documentary Short?

Didn't My Octopus Teacher director Pippa Ehrlich completely win the night with her speech?

Didn't Tenet deserve more love at the Oscars? 

Don't you immediately think "Marilyn Monroe" when talking about Maria Bakalova in Borat? 

Am I the only one who still feels bad for Amanda Seyfried? 

Didn't that woman giving the death stare to the camera look thrilled to be nominated for Tenet?

How can you not smile at The Father production designer's career inspiration starting with One Eyed Willy's ship in The Goonies? 

Shouldn't I have known that black and white usually equals a Best Cinematography win? 

Then again, isn't it ironic Mank's Eric Messerschmidt won the cinematography statue Gregg Toland didn't for Citizen Kane?  

Is 80 years the longest the Academy's ever waited to make up for an Oscar loss?

Wasn't Harrison Ford reading the Blade Runner notes a pretty good bit?

At least by this show's standards? 

Am I imagining this or didn't Tyler Perry win a similar award already a few months back? Or was it a year? The whole thing's a blur. 

Seemingly overnight, has Zendaya become the most famous, recognizable actress?

So I'm guessing we won't be getting performances of the Original Song nominees this year? 

Did anyone call "Fight For You" winning that category? 

Did Andra Day's reaction to Purple Rain's lack of a Best Song nomination sum up everyone's thoughts on the Oscars? 

What did we just see with Glenn Close?

Can we really say the censors at ABC were working overtime when both bits were entirely scripted? 

Were they zooming through the In Memoriam segment this year or what?

Um, Jessica Walter? 

You don't hear the announcer bragging about making such great time anymore, do you? 

Best Picture...NOW?!

Did this placement basically just give away what category they're closing with? 

Did Frances McDormand just howl like a wolf? 

If Netflix can't win Best Picture in a pandemic year, will they ever?

Should we be glad Zhao's holding on to the Best Picture Oscar since Frances McDormand has a penchant for misplacing them?

Did I speak too early?

Does McDormand winning (again) prove right everyone's theory that the "Academy does what the Academy does?"

Were you worried what that meant for Boseman? 

Have they ever finished an Oscar show with the winner(s) being completely absent?

No pre-recorded message or anything?

How foolish were they for putting Best Actor on last?

Didn't a really big assumption accompany that decision?

Is that a mistake they won't be making again anytime soon?

While it couldn't have been handled any worse, can anyone really say Boseman was robbed when Hopkins, one of our greatest actors, won for the best performance of his career?

At 83 years-old, can anyone blame Hopkins for not taking the trip out there for this show?

After actually watching it, will he be even more relieved he didn't go? 

Has there ever been a more shocking outcome in the two lead acting categories?

Or such a flat non-ending to the telecast?

Were you thinking that at least the whole Moonlight/La La Land fiasco was entertaining? 

Does this whole debacle make as good a case as any to give the producers a heads up on who's winning? 

Do they need to be introduced to the concept of video packages in between segments?

Maybe having hosts isn't such a terrible idea after all? 

Are Anne Hathaway and James Franco still available? 

Does the "worst Oscars ever" complaining contingent actually have a good case for once? 

Doesn't it seem like they just completely threw the towel in on this year's telecast?

While simultaneously trying entirely too hard? 

Well, at least they made good time, right?

Is there a good chance that none of the major four networks will carry the show next year?

Would that be such a bad thing?

2021 Oscar Predictions

Yes, this year's Oscar race was understandably kind of a disaster. But here we are, and while the annual chorus of industry dissenters and diehard cinephiles will cry that the Academy Awards just "don't matter anymore," they'll be watching no matter what, dissecting every minute of the inevitably overlong telecast. So rather than bemoan the fact that this show (like any current televised awards event) isn't reaching as broad an audience anymore, maybe it's time to celebrate who it is for. Viewed through that prism, there's actually a lot to look forward to when envelopes are opened Sunday night. Since no announcement was made regarding a formal host, we're led to assume there won't be one again, which might be for the best, especially given there's sure to be even more modifications due to social distancing guidelines. 

Catching up on the nominees and making informed (if not necessarily correct) predictions in regards to these outcomes was much easier with so many conveniently streaming titles. Eliminating my biggest roadblock as a fan and critic definitely helped, opening the door to not only see and review all but one of Best Picture nominees, but circle back and take in many of the other categories as well. It's still a cram session to an extent, but at least it's actually done before the telecast for a change. This also better enabled me to have some more investment in the race this year, even as it's looking like a tougher road than expected in the final stretch for my two favorites, Promising Young Woman and The Father (and to a lesser extent, Mank).

As far as the issue of diversity amongst the nominations, it's still more of an industry problem that's trickled into an Oscar one, casting doubt that forthcoming mandatory inclusion requirements for Best Picture nominees will do much to address the actual source of those difficulties. Moving forward will depend more on studio level involvement than AMPAS, who are still wildly flailing to pick up the slack, resulting in more diverse slate than usual this year.

Even as it remains impossible to read members' minds to determine how they'll vote, condensing those three sound categories into one should at least slightly improve everyone's scorecard. Last year yielded my best results since 2014, so I'm holding out hope that I'll at least successfully predict Best Picture after what's become an increasingly long, embarrassing streak of incorrectly forecasting the night's biggest prize. Below are the nominations, along with my predicted winners and analysis for the major categories. As usual, I'm retaining the right to make any alterations beforehand. But once that show starts, it's go time.

*Predicted Winners  

Animated Feature Film  

Onward    

Over the Moon

A Shaun the Sheep Movie: Farmageddon

Soul

Wolfwalkers

 

Animated Short Film

Burrow

Genius Loci

If Anything Happens I Love You

Opera

Yes-People

 

Documentary Feature

Collective

Crip Camp

The Mole Agent

My Octopus Teacher 

Time

 

Documentary Short Subject

Colette

A Concerto Is a Conversation

Do Not Split

Hunger Ward

A Love Song for Latasha

Live-Action Short Film

Feeling Through

The Letter Room

The Present

Two Distant Strangers

White Eye 

International Feature Film

Another Round (Denmark) 

Better Days (Hong Kong)

Collective (Romania) 

The Man Who Sold His Skin (Tunisia)

Quo Vadis, Aida? (Bosnia and Herzegovina) 

Film Editing

The Father (Yorgos Lamprinos)

Nomadland (Chloé Zhao)

Promising Young Woman (Frédéric Thoraval)

Sound of Metal (Mikkel E.G. Nielsen)  

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Alan Baumgarten)

Sound

Greyhound (Warren Shaw, Michael Minkler, Beau Borders and David Wyman)

Mank (Ren Klyce, Jeremy Molod, David Parker, Nathan Nance and Drew Kunin)

News of the World (Oliver Tarney, Mike Prestwood Smith, William Miller and John Pritchett)

Soul (Ren Klyce, Coya Elliott and David Parker)

Sound of Metal (Nicolas Becker, Jaime Baksht, Michelle Couttolenc, Carlos Cortés and Phillip Bladh)

Production Design

The Father (Peter Francis and Cathy Featherstone)

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Mark Ricker, Karen O’Hara and Diana Stoughton)

Mank (Donald Graham Burt, Jan Pascale)

News of the World (David Crank, Elizabeth Keenan)

Tenet (Nathan Crowley, Kathy Lucas)

Costume Design

Emma (Alexandra Byrne)

Mank (Trish Summerville)

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Ann Roth)

Mulan (Bina Daigeler)

Pinocchio (Massimo Cantini Parrini)

Original Score

Da 5 Bloods (Terence Blanchard) 

Mank (Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross)

Minari (Emile Mosseri)

News of the World (James Newton Howard)

Soul (Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, Jon Batiste)

Original Song

“Fight for You” (Judas and the Black Messiah)

“Hear My Voice” (The Trial of the Chicago 7)

“Húsavík” (Eurovision Song Contest)

“Io Si (Seen)” (The Life Ahead)

“Speak Now,” (One Night in Miami)

Makeup and Hairstyling

Emma (Marese Langan, Laura Allen and Claudia Stolze)

Hillbilly Elegy (Eryn Krueger Mekash, Patricia Dehaney and Matthew Mungle)

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal and Jamika Wilson)

Mank (Kimberley Spiteri, Gigi Williams and Colleen LaBaff)

Pinocchio (Mark Coulier, Dalia Colli and Francesco Pegoretti)

Visual Effects

Love and Monsters (Matt Sloan, Genevieve Camilleri, Matt Everitt and Brian Cox)

The Midnight Sky (Matthew Kasmir, Christopher Lawrence, Max Solomon and David Watkins)

Mulan (Sean Faden, Anders Langlands, Seth Maury and Steve Ingram)

The One and Only Ivan (Nick Davis, Greg Fisher, Ben Jones and Santiago Colomo Martinez)

Tenet (Andrew Jackson, David Lee, Andrew Lockley and Scott Fisher)

Cinematography

Judas and the Black Messiah (Sean Bobbitt)

Mank (Erik Messerschmidt)

News of the World (Dariusz Wolski)

Nomadland (Joshua James Richards)

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Phedon Papamichael)

Adapted Screenplay

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Dan Swimer, Peter Baynham, Erica Rivinoja, Dan Mazer, Jena Friedman, Lee Kern and Nina Pedrad)

The Father (Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller)

Nomadland (Chloé Zhao)

One Night in Miami (Kemp Powers)

The White Tiger (Ramin Bahrani)

If the Oscar were given for most credited writers on a screenplay, Borat would surely have this in the bag. It's odd considering, that of all the nominees, the one that seemed to feature the most improvisation, utilized so many hands on its script. The White Tiger was a surprise inclusion to most and just fortunate to make it in. One Night in Miami underperformed in every category, making a victory here unlikely despite its merits. That leaves us with Nomadland and The Father, with fortune appearing to favor the former if only because its expected to run the table for the night and Zhao did such a commendable job distilling Jessica Bruder's non-fiction source material.

 

Original Screenplay

Judas and the Black Messiah (Will Berson, Shaka King, Kenny Lucas and Keith Lucas)

Minari (Lee Isaac Chung) 

Promising Young Woman (Emerald Fennell)

Sound of Metal (Darius Marder, Abraham Marder and Derek Cianfrance

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Aaron Sorkin)

The Academy really loves Sorkin, just not as a director, so if they were to honor his timely Chicago 7, it would undoubtedly be here for its screenplay. Judas and the Black Messiah and Sound of Metal have been praised more for their performances than scripts, but if the former is caught up in a groundswell of support it isn't impossible this spoils with its socially relevant biographical slant. Supporting Actress is the only race in which Minari stands a chance, so a script win is probably far-fetched. This is the category Promising Young Woman seems most primed to grab. While it would do little to soften the blow of a potential Mulligan Best Actress loss, I'll take it anyway, especially amongst this competition. Even those lukewarm on PYW would have problems denying the originality and power of its clever, twisted script. This is Fennell's to lose. Let's hope she doesn't.     

 

Supporting Actress

Maria Bakalova (Borat Subsequent Moviefilm) 

Glenn Close (Hillbilly Elegy) 

Olivia Colman (The Father) 

Amanda Seyfried (Mank) 

Yuh-jung Youn (Minari)

Who can forget that look on Glenn Close's face when Olivia Colman swooped in and won what everyone assumed would be Close's long owed Best Actress statue for The Wife two years ago? It would be the cruelest of ironies if she lost to Colman again here, or maybe even crueler if Close  actually were to win for her widely reviled turn in Hillbilly Elegy. Given Oscar's history in this category, we can't put it past them. I loved former frontrunner Amanda Seyfried's performance in Mank, as did everyone. So, what happened? It did her no favors when the movie kind of died on the vine in terms of public perception, to the point that she's hardly even considered a possible spoiler, which is a shame. Borat's Maria Bakalova has been on a roll leading into this, but outside of very few instances (see Marissa Tomei) there isn't a strong precedent for the Academy rewarding work this broadly comedic, no matter how skilled. That leaves us with the underdog,Yuh-jung Youn, who just might pull this off. There's no better built-in story and we all know how the voters love that. Minari almost has to win something. This will probably be it.    

Supporting Actor

Sacha 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) 

Another tough one. There was some concern for a little bit that Paul Raci's widely respected performance in Sound of Metal wouldn't make it in, which would have been unfathomable, though  hardly a new low for AMPAS. Well, he's there, just probably not winning. Cohen's entertaining work as Abby Hoffman in Chicago 7 is, rightly or wrongly, just not being taken seriously as a threat. I still contend Frank Langella gave the best performance in that film, even if it's possible he could have faced the same obstacle. Leslie Odom Jr. is a worthy winner for capturing the essence of Sam Cooke in One Night in Miami but he'd stand a better chance in a less crowded field. Some category confusion here, as both Kaluuya and Stanfield's performances could easily be considered for lead, especially the latter, who makes a stronger impression, if not necessarily the louder one. Kaluuya's performance is the one they'll honor.

Lead Actress

Viola Davis (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom) 

Andra Day (The United States v. Billie Holiday) 

Vanessa Kirby (Pieces of a Woman) 

Frances McDormand (Nomadland) 

Carey Mulligan (Promising Young Woman) 

As the only nominee whose film hasn't landed in the public's conciousness at all, Pieces of a Woman's Vanessa Kirby is out, which isn't an indictment of the performance so much as a reflection of the way the wind's blowing right now. There's the feeling that McDormand's won too much already, but if anyone can overcome that, especially amidst all the Nomadland love, it's her. Viola Davis and Andra Day are running neck-and-neck for their musically inclined turns as Ma Rainey and Billie Holiday, respectively. While the latter boasts no other nominations, Day seems to have picked up momentum of late with her Globes win and the fact that her performance as the legendary crooner has just been better received than Davis' more flamboyant work. But what Davis has going for her is the opposite of McDormand in that voters will likely perceive she's long overdue for a win, despite already having a Supporting Actress statue on her mantle.

As the #MeToo avenger thwarting would be rapists and their enablers in Promising Young Woman, Carey Mulligan gave the best performance of the year in my favorite film. But she's definitely lost some momentum of late, having been embroiled in a minor controversy and coming up short in the precursors (even the Globes) while the Academy seems suddenly intent on rewarding SAG winner Davis. The thought of her triumphing alongside late co-star Chadwick Boseman is the kind of soul-affirming narrative that would have members frantically rushing to mark their ballots, even while most agree it's far from her best performance. But it's still a stain on the Academy that no black actress before or after Halle Berry has won in this category's history. If they want to fix that, there's no more deserving or widely respected a choice than Davis. Mulligan should win, but my worst Oscar instincts are telling me she won't. I'd love to be wrong. 

Lead Actor

Riz Ahmed (Sound of Metal) 

Chadwick Boseman (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom) 

Anthony Hopkins (The Father) 

Gary Oldman (Mank) 

Steven Yeun (Minari)

The biggest lock of the night, as Boseman will surely join Peter Finch as the only other posthumous Oscar winner in this category What's worth noting is that the actor really never was given his due respect as a performer while alive, at least by the Oscars.What else could explain how his work in 42, Black Panther, Marshall, and most glaringly, Get On Up, received no recognition from the Academy? Now they have a chance to right that wrong, even if it's frustrating that his big breakthrough had to happen like this. It isn't often we affix the word "underrated" to someone who wins a posthumous Oscar, but here's a case where that designation definitely applies.

Boseman's only competition is BAFTA victor Hopkins, and it's here where circumstances do count since the acting legend would have assuredly won in any other year for his career best portrayal of a man in the throes of dementia. Minari's Steven Yeun is a non-starter, even if the nod will likely do a lot for his big screen prospects moving forward. After some very early momentum, Gary Oldman's chances for Mank went the way of Seyfried's for that film, while Riz Ahmed seems to have also inexplicably faded from the conversation. Brace for a highly emotional moment when Boseman's name is announced.    

Director

Thomas Vinterberg (Another Round)

David Fincher (Mank) 

Lee Isaac Chung (Minari) 

Chloé Zhao (Nomadland) 

Emerald Fennell (Promising Young Woman)

The other lock of the night, as the inevitable Chloe Zhao victory checks a lot of the Academy's boxes. As only the second woman to take this honor, as well as the first Asian woman, the strongest argument for her is that she's completely deserving, as Nomadland's direction is arguably what made it soar. Many are still shocked Another Round's Vinterberg squeezed his way in, but good for him, as the inclusion should considerably raise his profile. Will David Fincher ever win an Oscar? Does he care? Doubtful, but it's not like many expected it to happen this year for Mank, given its somewhat mixed reception.While an undeniable achievement, Minari's unfortunately become a slot-filler at this point, with Lee Isaac Chung deserving of whatever post-Oscar boost he gets. Fennell's exciting, razor sharp direction of Promising Young Woman is that much more remarkable when you consider its challenging tone, but there's just no way voters are going there. We know this. Even if Nomadland somehow didn't take Best Picture, Zhao would still easily walk away with this one.  

Picture

The Father

Judas and the Black Messiah

Mank

Minari

Nomadland

Promising Young Woman

Sound of Metal

The Trial of the Chicago 7

In tackling a now more suddenly urgent event from decades prior, The Trial of the Chicago 7 may seem prescient, but it's thought of in many circles as the category's weakest entry, feeling done for after coming out of the gate so strongly for Netflix. The same can almost be said for Mank, though it never really got off the ground this season at all. Minari's nod is reward enough, while Sound of Metal lacks the scope and breadth voters often go for when determining winners in this race. Rewarding Judas and the Black Messiah would send a strong message, but certain portions of that film hit harder than others and it already feels as if Supporting Actor is the first and only order of business with it. 

The year's most overlooked dark horse is the superb The Father, but there hasn't been a big push for the film in enough circles until recently and it lacks the widespread awareness typically associated with a Best Picture. If even Hopkins can't win for the performance of his life, it's hard to believe this upset is possible. Should Promising Young Woman accomplish the unthinkable it would probably be one of the darker recent winners. It's not a complete downer in the traditional sense, but you get the idea. They're just not doing it.

The only thing standing in Nomadland's way are complaints that the film brushes over Amazon's allegedly dangerous working conditions for elderly employees. This would matter more if this were a documentary about corporate malfeasance, but for the exact purposes of Zhao's story, it carries very little weight. Plus, we know how the Academy detests controversies slipping into their life-affirming worldview, so they won't be swayed. It's essentially a human tragedy, but one that gives them no more  despair than they can handle, emerging as the ideal flagbearer by addressing socially, politically, economically relevant issues in a non-controversial way. It expertly walks that Oscar tightrope and voters won't hate themselves afterwards, or at least not for reasons related to the film. This category's been a rollercoaster ride in recent years, but there just aren't many unpredictable options on the table this time around. Look for Director and Picture to match as Nomadland takes home the gold.

Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Director: George C. Wolfe
Starring: Viola Davis, Chadwick Boseman, Glynn Turman, Colman Domingo, Michael Potts, Jonny Coyne, Taylour Paige, Jeremy Shamos, Dusan Brown
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Based upon August Wilson's acclaimed 1982 play, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom is an entertaining, eye-opening spectacle that examines the plight of two strong-willed African American musicians fighting for what's owed to them in a business and society holding them down. They're both essentially battling for the same cause, even as the personal histories that have shaped their present serve as further roadblocks, preventing them from forming the most basically cordial working relationships, especially with each other. Operating under the thumb of white record producers looking to get rich off their talents, anyone familar with the power imbalance at work here could imagine another film told entirely from the vantage point of these executives. 

Much of that hypothetical picture would focus on how these bosses are doing the black musicians a favor while getting nothing but aggravation in return."Difficult" would undoubtedly be a frequent descriptor used by these men to describe how their contracted property won't bend to their will, even as the title character gladly wears that as a badge of honor. But such a film is entirely unnecessary since director George C. Wolfe seems to have already made it. Considering who was calling the shots, these musicians were always going to be relegated to supporting players in their own careers, without being granted the dignity of such an explanation.   

Unsurprisingly, Chadwick Boseman's performance would be receiving this level of praise regardless of whether it marked the final time we saw him on screen. His character proves to be the driving engine as he takes this cocky, smooth talking, hotheaded upstart musician on a tumultuous journey instigated by a pain and anguish we've only begun to partially comprehend, until it engulfs every frame, swallowing everyone and everything around it. His self-justification grows deeper and darker, threatening to explode at any moment, until it actually does.The film peaks at just the right time before making an early exit but it's the two Oscar-nominated turns that carry the picture. Thinking we know where all this is going until it's actually there, the finale is challenging to watch, all but confirming that the more things change, the more they haven't changed at all.         

It's 1927 and popular blues singer Ma Rainey (Viola Davis) is under contract to Paramount when manager Irvin (Jeremy Shamos) schedules her for a recording session in Chicago with her Georgia Jazz Band members, Toledo (Glynn Turman), Cutler (Colman Domingo), Slow Drag (Michael Potts) and overconfident trumpeter Levee Green (Boseman). Hoping to break away from the band and land his own deal, Levee shows his original compositions to producer Mel Sturdyvant (Jonny Coyne), to nearly everyone's disapproval. Ma is especially angered by his ambitions, believing a proven track record of success has afforded her the final say over him, the rest of the band and producers. 

Showing up late with girlfriend Dussie Mae (Taylour Paige) and 14 year-old nephew Sylvester (Dusan Brown), Ma demands the latter speak the album's opening narration despite his serious stutter, determined to have everyone wait until he gets it right. This instigates a battle of wills between her and the producers, as well as with Levee, who's not only underming Ma's authority with his own musical arrangments, but also seems to have designs on Dussie Mae. As tensions between Levee and the other band members threaten to boil over, disturbing revelations about his childhood come to light, sending his quick temper careening out of control.

Ma's strong stage presence, powerful voice and overwhelming personality may make it seem on the surface as if she's enormously successful enough to do what she wants, when in actuality this is the 1920's and white male label heads view her strictly as a monetary investment. She only seems to be in charge because everything's a fight to prevent them from walking all over her, at points even explicitly stating these men wouldn't pay her any mind if not for the singing that makes them money. And she's right.

Whether it's her bosses withholding money or trying to creatively call the shots, Ma has adopted this attitude as a survival mechanism, well aware that the career consequences could be far worse if she didn't fight for her fair share. For Davis, this role's a homecoming of sorts, having aleady won an Oscar and Tony for her role in Wilson's Fences, but this is an entirely different, brasher, more over-the-top role that requires a nuance few others could have brought to the more heavily dramatic moments. There's a lot of pain behind Ma's posturing and toughness so the real mastery in Davis' carefully calibrated performance comes when she allows us a peak behind that facade to earn a glimpse of it.

Knowing talent alone won't be nearly enough to overcome the prejudice, the flashy, egotistical Levee instantly becomes a threat to Ma's dominance, staking his claim to the spotlight. But regardless of how talented he considers himself, his attitude and temper get in the way. If the general feeling amongst the band members is that they can barely tolerate someone who hasn't paid his dues in the business, they eventually find out he's paid them in life, and then some. The entire story rests with Boseman's performance, to the point that everything else feels like a warm-up until Levee's triggered by the other band members about his "sucking up" to the white man. This leads to an emotional explosion, as well as some painful confessions about his upbringing that knock his bandmates on their heels. And the tensions only worsen from there. 

With a glimmer in his eye and a self-deprecating smile, Boseman initially disarms you, but at a certain point that turns, sending Levee over an edge he won't return from for the film's duration, lashing out in wildly unpredictable ways. The religious, mild-mannered Cutler, whose honest attempts to play peacemaker with Levee, Ma and the producers fall short. Colman Domingo's subtly effective in creating an impression that Cutler's put out these fires within the band before and whatever problems exist should take a backseat to the music he clearly loves. Glynn Turman is equally memorable as the mid-mannered Toledo, offering experience and wisdom Levee would have been wise to listen to if he wasn't already so far gone, well on his way down a path to inevitable violence.

In joining the many stage-to-screen productions in the past year such as One Night in Miami and The Father, this probably feels like the stagiest, if only due to the musical component and the fact its monologues are far lengthier. But clocking in at just over and hour and a half, Wolfe and writer Ruben Santiago-Hudson really keep it moving, with the story itself speaking volumes. The characters mistakenly direct all their rage at each other, while the true tragedy comes in the realization they may not have had much of a choice. The very last scene confirms Ma's dire prediction, with her and Levee proving to be no more or less expendable than the rest, as the label executives were only ever going to see one thing, no matter how hard they were pushed to think otherwise.   

The Father

Director: Florian Zeller
Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Olivia Colman, Rufus Sewell, Imogen Poots, Olivia Williams, Mark Gatiss
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Florian Zeller's The Father employs a brilliant narrative device in conveying the anguish and confusion that accompanies dementia, its entire stucture functioning as a full reflection of its themes and suffering protagonist's state of mind. Placing us inside the shoes of a man who's mentally and physically fading  by the minute is a big risk, but it proves to be brutally eye-opening in showing the impact of a disease that still very much carries stigmas and preconceived notions. That's it's almost unbearably difficult to watch is exactly the point, especially considering our disorientation from seeing this pales in comparison to the pain of those who have actually suffered from it.

Adapted from Zeller's own 2012 play, Le Père, it creates a self-contained world where time ceases to exist, events bleed into each other, and faces and names change. You wouldn't be blamed for assuming that's a description for a sci-fi story story rather than tragic reality, as most commericals and trailers haven't done it justice, selling the project as a Merchant Ivory-type production focusing on elder care. But in downplaying its chief conceit from ususpecting moviegoers, it's only all the more impactful when the pieces start coming together. And that's a courtesy never entirely extended to the main character, whose saddest, most devastating scenes arrive in fleeting moments of recognition, where he "knows" something's wrong, if not necessarily what. 

In a career of full of legendary performances, a good case can be made that this is Anthony Hopkins' best, finding inventive avenues to practically normalize the most abnormal behavior, actions and observations. While extremely uncomfortable to watch, this only seems to make its viewing that much more essential. Given all the attention paid over the past few year to films tackling important social issues, it would be a crime if this somehow managed to fall through the cracks.  

Anthony (Hopkins) is sufferering from memory loss and dementia, constantly misplacing items, failing to recall key names and events, or even recognize the most familiar faces in his life. When daughter Anne (Olivia Colman) visits him in his London flat and announces she's planning to move to Paris with her new boyfriend, Anthony's rattled. Confused as to who this person is and worried how Anne's impending absence could affect his routine, he becomes increasingly belligerent, digging his heels in and proclaiming he's not going anywhere, most especially a care facility. Having already gone through numerous nurses, the latest whom he accused of stealing his watch, a new caretaker named Laura (Imogen Poots) arrives, baring an uncanny resemblance to his late daughter, Lucy. 

Radiating wide-eyed optimism and a strong desire to help, Lucy's won over by Anthony's humor and charm, blissfully unaware that it won't be long before she's on the receiving end of his verbal abuse, however unintentional. While adamently denying he's suffering a cognitive decline, inexplicable occurances and the presence of an unknown man (Mark Gatniss) and woman (Olivia Williams) only further disorient Anthony. 

With Anthony rapidly losing his grasp on reality, Anne is pressured by her increasingly intolerant boyfriend, Paul (Rufus Sewell) to institutionalize him. Seemingly surrounded by so many, her father couldn't be more alone, with the disease's progression continuing to take its toll, completely isolating him in ways that seem almost unimaginable given the care and attention he receives. Through no fault of his own, none of it will be enough.

Every event that happens from the opening credits right through the final scene should be taken with a grain of salt. Under normal circumstances, this could be seen as a creative fault or labeled as manipulative by some. But it isn't long before you gradually catch on to what first-time feature director Zeller and co-writer Christopher Hampton are up to and how accurately this non-linear, zig-zag style structure reflects Anthony's plight, allowing us to see this fragmented world through his eyes. 

Regardless of how true it is, Anthony views his daughter's flat as his property, initially coming off as a cranky codger who would scream at kids to get off his lawn if he had one. Of course, that's the disease talking, making it impossible to form any concrete determination about his actual personality. With dementia fully taking hold, he can be an intolerable grump one moment, before coming off as a completely kind and engaging old soul the next, almost as if nothing's wrong. But it is, and Hopkins expertly flips that switch, giving us fletting glimpses of who he was before his faculties left him. 

As one of our great living actors, it's hard to call any Hopkins performance underappreciated but what he does here is remarkable, appearing to almost play entirely different characters throughout, gradually appearing more dissheveled and tweaking his speech patterns and movements according to how far along the illness has progressed. Ironically, the most apt comparision just might be his work in 1995's Nixon, where with the sheer force of his presence he seemed to physically will himsel into becoming the disgraced 37th President despite baring very little resemblance to the actual man.   

At various points, viewers will ask themselves why Anthony hasn't been put in a home already, wondering how much longer this man or those caring for him can possibly continue like this. That is until realizing we have no idea of measuring how much time has passed over the course of the film's running length. It could be a month, a year or even possibly longer. For all we know it could only be hours, but the screenplay doesn't ignore how it feels like decades for Anne or any of the aids who look after him. The strain on them isn't lost, and in one especially powerful dream sequence, she envisions a particularly cruel solution to the "problem," as if it isn't harsh enough describing him with that word. And yet Colman's performance is still so empathetic it's hard to judge the character or imagine anyone wouldn't also hate themselves for feeling the same way.

Anne's approach differs greatly from that of her boyfriend Paul's, which is viciously intolerant, highlighting the issue of elder abuse in its worst possible manifestation. But even here it's important to tread carefully when detailing events since we can't be sure they're happening exactly how they appear on screen. Like Anthony, the viewer is overcome with feelings of mistrust, disbelieving everyone and everything that's seen, until that frustration begins to turn to self-doubt. And despite being based on an acclaimed play and largely taking place within a single setting, most of what surrounds Anthony is constantly changing, sometimes in barely noticeable ways that challenge the audience to pay attention to even the smallest details within the apartment flat. This makes an emotionally triggering experience surprisingly ripe for repeated viewings in order to pick up on what was likely missed during an initial watch.  

Even when we're not completely sure what's happening, Hopkins ensures all the physical and mental signposts of Anthony's deterioration are present. Sometimes it's subtle, while at others it isn't, gradually worsening until it culminates in an ending that might be the most uncomfortable we've seen in years, with his entire state of mind regressing into childlike infancy. In personalizing the trauma by throwing viewers in headfirst, we're forced to confront the harsh truth of a rapidly vanishing mind. It would be flippant to call The Father an unforgettable experience since this material so painfully demonstrates that there's no such thing. Instead, it shows us that any memories, including those taking place over the course of this film, shouldn't be so easily taken for granted.

Judas and the Black Messiah

Director: Shaka King
Starring: Lakeith Stanfield, Daniel Kaluuya, Jesse Plemons, Dominique Fishback, Ashton Sanders, Algee Smith, Darrell Britt-Gibson, Lil Rel Howery, Dominique Thorne, Martin Sheen, Amari Cheatom
Running Time: 126 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

During Shaka King's otherwise tremendous Judas and the Black Messiah, I couldn't help but roll my eyes in its opening minutes when Martin Sheen becomes the latest victim of the J. Edgar Hoover curse, stipulating that any actor portraying the former FBI director on film over the past thirty years must wear embarrassing prosthetics that severely alter their appearance for no particular reason. This despite the fact that the real man was relatively nondescript looking and few seem to really know or care anyway. He has to be the most unsuccessfully essayed figure in modern biographical movies in that the more we see of him, the less we learn or care. 

Fake nose and all, it's to Sheen's credit he survives this brief scene and is actually quite good in a more impactful one later. So while my petition demanding J. Edgar no longer appear in any 60's set period projects is pending, his presence is only a minor distraction here, serving once again as a gateway to far more intriguing figures. One of them, the "Messiah" of the film's title, is the chairman of the Chicago chapter of the Black Panthers, Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya), whom Hoover spends his limited screen time galvanizing the bureau to take down. 

While Hampton was memorably depicted in another of the year's Best Picture nominees, The Trial of the Chicago 7, this provides a much deeper dive into what he stood for and exactly how his life was tragically cut short. And yet still the film isn't entirely"about" him, but rather the collision course he's unknowlingly on with petty criminal turned FBI informant William O' Neal (Lakeith Stanfield), whose infamous interview from PBS' 1989 documentary, Eyes on the Prize II also serve as the story's bookends. He'd end up taking his own life after it aired, and watching King's dramatization of events, it isn't hard to see how these events gutted him inside in the decades since. 

It's the late '60's when 17-year-old Bill O'Neal is arrested in Chicago after attempting to steal a vehicle while posing as a federal officer. At the station he's approached with a deal from FBI Special Agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons), who offers to drop all charges if he agrees to go undercover and infiltrate the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther Party led by Fred Hampton. Quickly snuffing out that O' Neal appears to show little interest in politics or social justice, Mitchell's convinced he's found his informant, and one capable of divorcing himself from the emotions that would potentially compromise such a sting. 

With Hampton's influence growing as he forms alliances with gangs and various militia groups, the Panthers also establish community outreach programs for education and child care. But viewed by the FBI on the heels of Martin Luther King's assassination as a groundswell civil rights movement as violent and dangerous as the Klu Klux Klan, Hampton becomes the bureau and Mitchell's main target. Believably slipping into the role of a full-fledged Panther, O'Neal slowly gains Hampton's trust, collecting intel for Mitchell that could lead to far worse ramifications for the revolutionary than he ever anticipated. But that's assuming Hampton doesn't discover his identity first.

The events leading up to Hampton's death and circumstances surrounding his life have never been this thoroughly covered in cinematic form so it's easy to understand the temptation to label it as the first Hampton biopic. But even in covering such essential ground, it's more about O'Neal's betrayal, which link the two men in history and will undoubtedly draw comparisons to certain elements of Spike Lee's BlacKkKlansman in terms of plot. But there's really no relation considering the stark differences between the two groups and the sense of tension and immediacy surrounding O'Neal's even deeper infiltration and how seamlessly embedded into the Black Panthers' culture he became. When he's in, he's all the way in, and despite his believability, there's hardly a moment where you're not thinking he'll be found out, regardless of anyone's familiarity with what actually occurred. 

Stanfield's giving a tricky dual performance, simultaneously playing this cornered criminal who's at least partially manipulated into doing the FBI's dirty work. Once inside, he has to be someone else entirely, legitimately fighting for a cause greater than himself and the actor subtly implies enough doubt that O'Neal's performance within a performance is starting to become the real thing as his allegiance develops. A self-professed blank slate going in, it was always going to be a tall order for him to not pick a side or have his moral compass broken with this much on the line. 

While the methods Agent Mitchell uses to convince O'Neal that he's protecting the sanctity of the country seem to justify Hampton's entire cause, Plemons performance grows colder and less sympathetic along the way, which is a good choice. Mitchell isn't O'Neil's friend and never will be, no matter how many times he invites him to his house or a posh restaurant. Mitchell's using O'Neal while the small-time crook sees dollar signs in his arrangement with Mitchell and a shot at a new start. Instead, he's in constant fear of being uncovered and killed, as his manufactured loyalty to the Panthers has him doubting how he somehow ended up on the wrong team. 

Kaluuya gives off more than enough electricity as Hampton to let us see how he's able to wrangle such a devoted group of followers and why the Panthers attracted so much attention from law enforcement. Just as strong is a quietly captivating Dominique Fishback as Hampton's girlfriend, Deborah Johnson (for whom the actress is an uncanny lookalike), with their relationship providing many of the film's most poignant scenes, albeit ones tinged with a sense of impending doom that comes to fruition with his eventual death. It's also an event O'Neal has a far greater hand in than expected for those unfamilar with the exact history. To call him an active participant wouldn't be far off base, nor would labeling him a full-blown accessory to murder.

We do get an epilogue that seems to go on longer than usual under these circumstances, with title cards and actual footage, making you wonder if this ending is starting to become a prerequisite for any material based on a true story. Aside from the PBS clips of O'Neal, it may have been more powerful for King to just end it and let the enormity of what we've watched sink in. It's not a big debit, but sometimes the story has to stand for itself, and if you've succeeded, viewers won't be able to run fast enough to any available resource to explore the background.

More than anything else, Judas and the Black Messiah becomes about balancing the perspectives and movitations of its two main characters. Faced with what must have seemed like an agonizing choice, O'Neal made the wrong one, and many suffered from it. He also had Mitchell superficially propping him up and drawing false equivalencies to get what he wanted out of him. Whether O' Neal "sold out" or was taken advantage of, the end result's unchanged. And eventually upon realizing he couldn't live with himself, he administered the harshest form of self-justice. Ultimately, hate still lives to see another day and a more than a few decades, while senselessly adding these two casualties in the process.