That doesn’t mean they are all great. Or, in some cases, even good.
This group may not suffer from the cumbersome size that “political” Oscar bait films often wrap themselves in (Hello, “The Ideas of March”), but they have seen many of their own shortcomings. Even the best of them highlight how difficult it is to provoke harsh social criticism and emotionally satisfying storytelling at the same time.
Historical dramas like “Judas and the black messiah” and “The Chicago Trial 7Stumble upon genre tropes that weaken their impact. “Nomad land“, Adapted from journalist Jessica Bruder ‘s 2017 non-fiction book on American retirement transients, is the runaway best-picture favorite, but suffers from a narrative indecision that many critics have deemed profound.”Promising young woman“In his commentary, the textbook definition of style over substance is persistent, to say the least.
As flawed as some of the films in the group are, they are all convincing in some ways, which cannot always be said about the Academy’s decisions. With this year’s Oscar plan, the academy has impressively demonstrated the diversity of modern cinema in all dimensions, from style to demographics (and of course polished its own injured social references). They also inadvertently pulled the curtain back on how difficult it is to create great art that affects both the problems America and the world face today and the aesthetic eye and emotional heart of the viewer.
Filmmakers have occasionally found the perfect balance throughout history when it comes to the tricky alchemy that great political art requires. Nominees for the best picture (some of them winners) such as “Judgment in Nuremberg”, “In the heat of the night”, “Guess who’s coming for dinner”, “M * A * S * H”, “All men of the Presidents “Among other things” Network “and” The Insider “dealt with political and social issues to a great narrative success. They are remembered as guides in American pop culture for the statements they talked about the liberal international order, or Racial relations, or the role of the media if you tell the truth to power.
Two of this year’s nominees for best picture follow exactly in the footsteps of such films and analyze American society through discreet historical events: Aaron Sorkin’s “The Trial of Chicago 7” and Shaka King’s “Judas and the Black Messiah”.
“The Trial of the Chicago 7” suffers and benefits in turn from the artistic tics of the “West Wing” author Sorkin: funny, hyperverbal sparring between its characters, a keen eye for historical details and a square foreword Watergate liberal idealism. It picks up on the worn insignia of the courtroom drama to convey the political tensions of the New Left of the 1960s as agitators like Abbie Hoffman and Tom Hayden are prosecuted for their roles in sparking an uproar outside the 1968 Chicago Democratic Convention become. Together with King’s film and other current critical historical dramas (“Dunkirk”, “The Post”, “Selma”, Netflix’s “The Crown” etc.) it fits comfortably into a genre that could be called Wikipedia Theater: shoebox history lessons, often peppered with archive material, which makes the stories torn from yesterday’s headlines all the more haunting.
Sorkin’s film is enchanting in its sensitivity as a chatty, medium-sized courtroom drama – something all too rare in an era dominated by either Marvel blockbusters or buzzing indie features. But it’s too tied to its historical details, and meanders aimlessly through narrative cul-de-sacs (like one with a cameo from Michael Keaton as Attorney General of LBJ, Ramsey Clark) that detracts from any today’s resonance. The film ultimately succumbs to Sorkin’s philanthropic instincts. As the ending titles roll out describing the various, seemingly contradicting paths that every defendant’s life has taken after the 1960s, one leaves the unshakable impression a film is about those Events would be infinitely more compelling to watch – and that would tell a lot more about the complex motivations behind personal activism.
“Jude and the Black Messiah” suffer equally from a misguided narrative focus. It is a textbook undercover cop drama that doubles as a portrait of Bill O’Neal, an FBI informant who infiltrated the Black Panthers and provided law enforcement officers with information that led to their killing of Fred Hampton. King uses O’Neal’s bow, masterfully portrayed by Atlanta-based actor Lakeith Stanfield and Sorry to Bother You, to portray the intricate relationship between black Americans and a state that alternates between shelter and brutal violence. He competes for screen time with Daniel Kaluuya, the nominee for Best Supporting Actor, whose alternately fiery and vulnerable portrayal of Hampton never completely flies under the narrative limitations of the film. The end result is dramatically satisfactory, but leaves the viewer with an extremely incomplete portrait of both men and their complex motivations.
The front runner of the awards, “Nomadland”, is clearly not part of the Wikipedia theater. Director Chloe Zhao tells a story about a widow who leaves her home in the real, unincorporated city of Empire, Nevada, to pursue a temporary lifestyle. She parks her van in RV warehouses and gas station lots while working on a procession of odd jobs at Amazon Fulfillment factories and processing plants. The film has been hailed as an all-too-rare portrait of the insecure and nondescript working conditions many older Americans face today, and for good reason.
But a growing critical Setbackshows how difficult it is to make implicit comments yourself without looking someone in the eye. (The film is also baggy and aimless, and wastes a great performance by Frances McDormand with a narrative that aims to portray any realistic danger in favor of a dreamy visual feast that is reminiscent of that, but not quite enough Image author Terrence Malick.)
In a similar way, Darius Marder’s screenplay directorial debut “Sound of metal, “In which Riz Ahmed gives a tour de force performance as the lost hearing heavy metal drummer. Ahmed’s protagonist finds solace in a vividly rendered rural deaf community reminiscent of the robust and diverse subculture portrayed in “Nomadland”. The film is not without its problems, however, and treats its protagonist’s extremely complex decision to use state-of-the-art hearing implants with a smooth judgment that would benefit from the care and focus of the film’s amazing sound design.
However, each of the sins inherent in “Nomadland” and “Sound of Metal” in terms of their deviant social criticism can be forgiven when one thinks of “Promising Young Woman”. Directed by British actress Emerald Fennell, it is a belligerent revenge thriller about a woman who seduces and shames predatory men. His bow, his Instagram-inspired visual aesthetic and his black humor position him as the modern successor to cult classics like “Heathers” or “Jawbreaker”, but his painfully didactic sock puppet dialogue brings the film closer Your average teen soap on the CW. More than its more open political candidates, “Promising Young Woman” is a cautionary story about putting confident, Twitter-enabled agitprop in the mouths of characters who are supposed to be human.
Of the eight nominees, the film that most successfully strings the needle between aesthetic success and social resonance touches both lightly. “Minari”Is a semi-autobiographical story by director Lee Isaac Chung about a family of Korean immigrants who moved from California to Arkansas in the early 1980s to pursue their patriarch’s dream of a self-sufficient farm life.
It is narrated through the eyes of the family’s young son (and the author’s representative) as he navigates the eccentricities and prejudices of the South of the Reagan era, his family’s domestic squabbles, and his grandmother’s unexpected integration into the family. The film is amazingly moving. It quietly speaks volumes about the American dream of self-determination, the immigrant experience, and the role of family unity in society New York Times Critic A.O. Scott wrote in his review “on the true scale of life” – that is, a smaller one.
It is unlikely that “Minari”, like many other such films in Oscar history, will be rewarded with the best picture – especially in comparison to the aesthetic sweep of “Nomadland” or the bold historical planting of “Judas and the Black Messiah” “. ”But its narrow focus opens up perspectives on the human experience that a“ more ambitious ”tariff can seldom channel at first glance when committed to either historical details or an aesthetic stance. “Minari” is a vivid and powerful reminder that the power of the old adage “write what you know” does not come from a prohibition to stay on track, but from an admonition of emotional authenticity.
Some of these are present in varying degrees in this year’s best-picture harvest, including the extremely narrowly focused, apolitical (and quite good) “Deficiency” and “The father. ”(OK, maybe not“ Promising Young Woman ”.) Still, this hyper-socially conscious Oscar panel is mostly a reminder of the difficulties associated with creating political art – whether directly related to electoral politics or the Live Wire Social addresses issues that viewers face every day at home. Without the epic spread of a “red” or even a miniseries like “Berliner Alexanderplatz”, the complexity of political and social issues is inevitably flattened out when attempted to lump them together into a neat two-hour narrative. Far more successful are efforts like “Minari” and its spiritual predecessors, which focus on an incident on a human scale and allow the viewer to fill in the gaps.
However, for all its shortcomings, there is reason to be pleased that this is the nominee’s harvest that we have received. If critics and the academy create incentives for such films in the future, perhaps another winner of the best picture such as “In the Heat of the Night” or “The Deer Hunter” could be added – another artistically ambitious landmark that is indelibly part of our collective political life and social environment impresses awareness. Until then, this year’s harvest, as flawed as it is – some far more than others – is worthy and interesting enough in itself, if not quite as transcendent as the hype machine promises.