Best Pictures #111: 2024 (97th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee: I'm Still Here

by A.J.

Best Pictures #111: 2024 (97th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee:

I'm Still Here

“Then one day when we went by, [the house] was completely closed and there was police guarding it.” 

Is it wrong to call a movie about something so devastating and tragic wonderful? That is how I felt after watching I'm Still Here, based on the true story of the Paiva family and what they endured under the military dictatorship in 1970’s Brazil. It would be a disservice to use any of the cliched blurbs and one liners that typically get applied to movies based on true stories: triumphant; powerful; a story about the power of the human spirit. All of these things are true but I’m Still Here is so well-made and so deeply affecting that it stands above prepackaged praise or comparison to other movies. I would not have seen it if not for its Best Picture nomination, but I'm very glad I did because this is indeed one of the best pictures of 2024.

The movie begins with a portrait of family life that is simultaneously idyllic–not idealized–and average. They live in a nice house that is walking distance from the beach in Rio de Janeiro. Their house is filled with relatives and friends. One of the 5 Paiva children adopts a stray dog. The teenagers love rock music, especially The Beatles. They like books, make home movies, and take lots of pictures. The parents, Eunice (Fernanda Torres) and Rubens (Selton Mello) are gentle and warm. Also army vehicles drive by in the background of a day at the beach. The grownups talk about the big news story of a kidnapped ambassador. The oldest teenage daughter and her friends are stopped at a checkpoint, their IDs checked, car searched, and eventually sent on their way. Later she goes to school in London and the family gathers around to watch a home movie she sent of an English winter filled with exotic snow–her letter says that it feels weird not to go to the beach at Christmas. It is a wonderful family moment. Then men in regular clothes with guns arrive at the house and say that Ruebens has to come with them. He gets in a car and is never seen again.

Another movie, a lesser movie, would arrive at this moment sooner. After all, every screenwriting class and book says to make the first act as short as possible, 15-20 minutes, 10 if you can. By delaying the inciting incident director Walter Salles and screenwriters Murilo Hauser and Heitor Lorega make this movie truly a story about a family–not an event–whose lives are disrupted and forever changed by outside forces in the form of political violence. It was also a wise choice to background the dictatorship and any sense of politics in the extended first act. We get lulled into a false sense of security. I think anyone who watches this movie will secretly hope like I did that we get to just spend the whole movie with the Paivas and whatever they get up to. This only helps to deepen the profound loss and irrevocable change dealt to the family.

In addition to a generous screenplay, the emphasis on characters and family life works so well because of the talent and skill on camera, especially in the incredible and wonderful performance of Fernanda Torres as Eunice. The brilliance of Torres’s performance is in her command of expression. She puts on a brave face for the children while conveying fear and uncertainty to the audience. Eunice endures so much, whether it is her being imprisoned along with her daughter, Eliana, and interrogated and played mind games with—thankfully both are released—or the less direct but no less stinging injustice of not being able to take money out of the bank without her husband, who is not legally dead. The low-key defiance of Eunice, while still ensuring the safety of her children, is unquestionably believable because of Torres.   

A subtle but important part of I'm Still Here is the production design and the costumes and hairstyles. Everything looks like old photographs of the 1970's; that is to say that the characters' clothes and hair, especially on the youths, looks more like the reality of the era. The hip pretty teenagers look like people trying to look like movies and magazines instead of looking like modern people with their hair and makeup done up in a glamorous, retro style. This is true for the adults as well. The same goes for the house and the cars.  Everything looks like it is lived in and used all the time. This goes a long way to setting this true story in a true feeling time and place. Walter Salles's own experiences growing up in Rio as a teenager at this time, especially knowing the Pavia family, no doubt played a major part in capturing the authenticity of this moment in time and these people. In an interview with Variety he recalls, “There was such a vitality to the house. It was a place we all wanted to drift through…Then one day when we went by, it was completely closed and there was police guarding it. You can imagine the shock.”

I'm Still Here is about depressing things but it is not a depressing movie. Receiving a death certificate after decades of legal fights may seem like a morbid triumph, but by this point we know how much it means. Eunice insists that her family smile in photographs, even for a news story about what they have suffered. Those smiles show that they are still a family, still together. Flashforwards deliver a sense of closure and may feel redundant, especially given the epilogue cards, but they are welcome moments. The final scene features an elderly Fernanda Montenegro (Torres’s real life mother who was the first Brazilian actress nominated for a Best Actress Oscar, also for a Walter Salles movie, Central Station (1998); her daughter is the second). It is a small but beautiful moment. This is the kind of movie that seems like homework or eating your vegetables. However, despite its subject matter I'm Still Here is not a chore to get through; ultimately you come away feeling thankful for the experience

Nominees: Maria Carlota Bruno and Rodrigo Teixeira, Producers

Director: Walter Salles Screenplay: Murilo Hauser and Heitor Lorega; based on I'm Still Here by Marcelo Rubens Paiva

Cast: Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello, Fernanda Montenegro

Production Companies: VideoFilmes, RT Features, MACT Productions, Arte France Cinéma, Conspiração, Globoplay

Distributor: Sony Pictures Releasing (Brazil), StudioCanal

Release Date: February 7th, 2025

Total Nominations: 3, including Best Picture

Other Nominations: Actress-Fernanda Torres; International Picture

Best Pictures #100: 2023 (96th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee: Anatomy of a Fall

by A.J.

Best Pictures #100: 2023 (96th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee

Anatomy of a Fall

“This is your own trap.”

Anatomy of a Fall feels like the kind of courtroom drama that Hollywood studios used to turn out in the 1980’s and 90’s. This winner of the prestigious Palme d’Or winner at the Cannes film Festival has gone on to international acclaim and relative box office success (for a foreign language film released in America anyway), and now has earned 5 Academy Award nominations including Best Picture, Best Actress for Sandra Hüller, Director for Justine Triet, Original Screenplay, and Editing. In its best moments it blends the drama of a murder trial, the tension of a mystery, and the emotions of a marital drama, which is impressive since one of the spouses dies right at the very beginning. This is essentially a legal procedural elevated by its embracing of uncertainty, great performances, and marital and family drama played not for sensation but to give the characters dimensions and complexity. 

German actress Sandra Hüller plays a successful author, also named Sandra, living with her French husband, Samuel (Samuel Theis), their son, Daniel, and dog, Snoop, in an isolated home in the snowy French countryside. Samuel dies from a mysterious fall out of the attic window. We do not see the fall. The only witness is 11-year-old Daniel (Milo Machado-Graner), who is visually impaired from an accident. It seems unlikely that Samuel just fell. Did Sandra push him? Did he commit suicide? Sandra’s high-profile trial, which is most of the 2 ½ hour film, digs up the drama and discord of her marriage that makes each scenario as likely as the other. 

Justine Triet’s direction and screenplay, co-written with Arthur Harari, never lean too far one way or the other about Sandra’s possible guilt or innocence. As soon as secrets are revealed and sympathies built for either Samuel or Sandra, the story slyly introduces doubt. Nearly every scene in the trial is underplayed in a way that lets tension creep in and build slowly. When a secret recording Samuel made of an argument the night before his death is played in court, the movie cuts to an extended flashback. This is Samuel Theis’s only significant scene and both he and Hüller are brilliant. The scene captures, maybe too well, the uneven ups and downs of a real argument: valid points mixed with petty sniping, shouting mixed with measured tones. Triet wisely cuts back to the courtroom right when the argument turns physical and we have to decide if we believe the prosecution or Sandra about the sounds of breaking dishes and slapping and hitting.

The French courtroom seems to be designed for maximum drama. The opposing lawyers and even Sandra are allowed to interrupt and cross-examine whenever opportune. Tangential speeches introducing hypothetical theories are made while a witness stands in the witness box in the background. Swann Arlaud as Vincent, Sandra’s lawyer, who is not entirely concerned with Sandra's innocence or guilt, is a great scene partner for her and a great verbal sparring partner for the zealous Advocate General, played by Antione Reinartz. Milo Machado-Graner has some key towards the climax and the young actor is more than up to the task. Even the Snoop the dog, played by Messi, does some impressive dog acting. 

It would be wrong to describe Anatomy of a Fall as a mystery because it is not so much concerned with solving Samuel’s mysterious death or proving Sandra’s innocence or guilt. It is more concerned with the doubt and uncertainty that can exist between people that are supposed to be the closest. Despite this, the style and structure are straightforward. The differing perspectives are made in the courtroom only through words; this is not a Rashomon tale where we see different points of view dramatized. Uncertainty looms over the entire story, even the ending, which though not ambiguous, still feels inconclusive in a way that may not satisfy all but fits the tone and themes. 

Best Pictures #92: 2022 (95th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee: All Quiet on the Western Front (2022)

by A.J. 

Best Pictures #92: 2022 (95th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee

All Quiet on the Western Front (2022)

“You are fortunate to be living in great times.”

The 2022 version of All Quiet on the Western Front is good enough to stand alongside the best anti-war films, but it will stand out because it is one of the still small number of movies about the First World War, and, most notably, it is German made. Published in 1929, Erich Maria Remarque’s now classic novel about an eager, patriotic German teenager experiencing the true horrors of war on the Western Front in Northern France, was first adapted by Universal Pictures the following year. That film, directed by Lewis Milestone, won Best Picture at the 3rd Academy Awards and remains one of the great anti-war films, with sights that still shock and scenes loaded with undated pathos. The novel and film ran afoul of the emerging Nazi party, who sabotaged screenings before both the novel and film were banned after they took power. Another version of All Quiet on the Western Front (there is also a surprisingly memorable made-for-TV version from 1979), seems unnecessary, but director Edward Berger uses modern cinematic styles and techniques, in addition to modern technology and visual effects, to create a harrowing and effective anti-war film.

Modernizations aside, the biggest difference between this version and the classic film and novel is the addition of scenes of the German High Command negotiating the armistice. Daniel Brühl plays real life German official Matthias Erzberger, who works to negotiate a quick armistice. He is not presented as heroic, but he is frustrated by the stubbornness of the German generals and the arrogance of the French generals, who understand that they are winning. While the politicians and generals quibble over words and protocol, teenage Paul, who joined the German army in spring of 1917 full of patriotic idealism, and his fellow soldiers are suffering and fighting and dying in mud and squalor, in conditions that before 1914 were unimaginable. The sharp and jarring juxtaposition of these scenes is intentional and highly effective. The First World War was called The Great War and The War To End All Wars because the methods of the war and conditions it created were so awful that, surely, there would be nothing after.

Berger’s film excels at something terrible, successfully conveying the horrors of modern industrial war: the grueling and terrible conditions of trench warfare; stabbing a man multiple times only to be trapped in a bomb crater with him as he dies slow enough to make you realize his humanity; the absurd and terrifying sights of soldiers in gas masks; a friend exploding into a spray of blood; WWI era tanks, lumbering steel rhombuses slouching forward and spitting explosions; soldiers with guns that throw fire instead of bullets.   

As Paul, Felix Kammerer is good at being simultaneously a generic stand-in for any young person caught up in their country’s war and a distinct person, easy to distinguish and follow. Albrecht Schuch is memorable as “Kat,” a veteran of the trenches. Paul and Kat have quiet moments together, cherished for their calmness and connection. Paul has an arc, though it is uncomplicated (patriotic idealism into jaded realism), and the rare moments of calmness do not build character so much as they maintain humanity. The amazing and moving speech Paul gives to a group of high school students at the behest of his former teacher (whose words inspired him to enlist), where he tells them that it is awful to die for your country, as well as the final image of the 1930 version, one of the most famous and poignant in film history, are replaced with a new gut wrenching ending.

I read one critic describe Sam Mendes’s WWI film 1917, a Best Picture nominee of 2019, as a movie not about the horrors of war, but a horror movie about war. I am not sure I agree with regards to that movie (I found it extremely tense and affecting, but a bit too thrilling to convey horror), but I believe this sentiment is true of Francis Coppola’s Apocalypse Now and Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket, and, now, perhaps, Edward Berger’s All Quiet on the Western Front; time will tell. This is a rough movie to watch, and I probably would not have seen it if it had not been nominated for Best Picture by the Academy Awards. I was much more willing to watch the 20-minute vomiting and diarrhea scene from Triangle of Sadness than to watch this movie. However, this is one remake I will never begrudge because its effect and the effect of the 1930 version and the novel remain the same: war is cruel and disgusting and the ones who fight and suffer and die have no say in how it is fought or when it ends. 

Nominees: Malte Grunert, producer

Director: Edward Berger

Screenplay: Edward Berger, Lesley Paterson, Ian Stokell; based on the novel by Erich Maria Remarque

Cast: Felix Kammerer, Albrecht Schuch, Daniel Brühl

Production Companies: Amusement Park

Distributor: Netflix

Release Date: October 28th, 2022

Total Nominations: 9, including Best Picture

Other Nominations: International Feature Film-Germany; Adapted Screenplay-Edward Berger, Lesley Paterson, Ian Stokell; Cinematography-James Friend; Production Design-Christian M. Goldbeck, Ernestine Hipper; Makeup and Hairstyling-Heike Merker, Linda Eisenhamerova; Original Score-Volker Bertelmann; Sound- Viktor Prasil, Frank Kruse, Markus Stemler, Lars Ginzel, Stefan Korte; Visual Effects-Frank Petzold, Viktor Muller, Markus Frank, Kamil Jaffar

13 Nights of Shocktober: House (1977)

 by A.J.

This is my favorite time of year, second only to Christmas. Autumn has arrived, the weather is cooling down, and October becomes the month-long celebration of scary movies called Shocktober. So, for the days leading up Halloween I’ll be posting some horror movie recommendations to help you celebrate Shocktober.

Night 5: Japanese Horror Night

“Any old cat can open a door. Only a witch cat can close a door.”

House (1977)

The 1977 Japanese horror film House (AKA Hausu) is weird, wild stuff, to put it mildly. This is a movie with so many peculiar cinematic choices and strange, puzzling sights that the demonic cat, floating severed head, or killer piano might make you forget about the watermelon laughing over someone’s shoulder. So much about House is intentionally off kilter that it is equally funny, interesting, creepy, silly, thoughtful, scary, but, above all, unforgettable.

The weird and bizarre nature of House comes from what happens on screen, not from how it is told. There is no toying with narrative structure, or points of view, or chronology. This goes a long way to keeping the audience engaged. At the start of summer break, teenager Gorgeous invites six of her friends to stay at her estranged aunt’s house. Unfortunately, the house is haunted by a vengeful spirit that preys on unmarried (virgin) girls. Yes, the main character’s name is Gorgeous. Her friends are: Fantasy, Mac (short for Stomach), Prof (short for Professor), Melody, Sweet, and Kung-Fu. Those names are descriptive (Prof reads a lot, Kung Fu knows kung fu, etc.) but the actresses all bring youthful energy to the roles. Each girl finds herself attacked by her fear or distinctive trait (Melody is attacked by the piano, for example). 

The making of House is a fascinating story. In 1975 Japanese movie studio Toho (the studio behind the Godzilla movies) hired Nobuhiko Obayashi to make a film that would be a box office hit like JAWS. Instead, he asked his adolescent daughter, Chigumi, what she thought was scary. She said it would be scary if her reflection in the mirror suddenly attacked her. Obayashi wisely chose his daughter’s idea over the studio’s order. “It’s not all that strange for ants or bears to attack people, but to be attacked by your reflection in a mirror is a fantasy that could only happen in a movie,” Obayashi says in a documentary included with the Criterion home video release.

Many of Chigumi’s other ideas made it into the movie and she received a story credit. Obayashi never expected for the movie to be made so he gave it an English title, something “taboo” for Japanese films at the time. When he finally did make the film two years later, Obayashi made a conscious decision to do things unlike the traditional Japanese filmmaking style of Akira Kurosawa (Seven Samurai) and Yasujiro Ozu (Tokyo Story), two of not only the greatest Japanese directors but the greatest of all directors. If Obayashi thought that Kurosawa or Ozu would be offended by a stylistic choice, that was the choice he made. The result is a film unlike any that came before, or even after for that matter. 

You can enjoy House purely as a phantasmagoria of the bizarre and macabre, as I did the first time I saw it, but it is also rich with subtext. Gorgeous’s aunt has a substantial backstory that is presented as a black and white silent film with the girls watching and making comments. In short, her fiancé was drafted into the army and never returned from the war but she continued to wait for him. When they see brief footage of the atomic bomb one of the girls says that the mushroom cloud looks like cotton candy. It is worth noting that Obayashi grew up in Hiroshima and lost many of his childhood friends to the devastation of the atomic bomb. The divide between the older generation that fought and lived through World War II and the younger generation that was born after the war also looms large. Gorgeous and her friends are separated from her aunt not just because of their youth but because of their varied personalities and opportunities thanks to post war feminism. 

The generational divide played a big part in the movie’s success too. It was the movie that every kid wanted to see and no parent wanted their kid to see. It was a commercial success thanks to its younger audience but a major flop with critics. Even executives at Toho were unhappy with the success of House. One studio executive even told screenwriter Chiho Katsura, right to his face, that he was upset with House’s success because he wanted a hit but not with a movie like this. Katsura was understandably offended. Time passed and the kids that loved House grew up to be critics and filmmakers and moviegoers and its influence and place in international cinema is firmly secure.

House airs on TCM on Wednesday, Oct 26th at 1AM CT and is streaming on the Criterion Channel and HBOmax. 

Best Pictures 74: 2021 ( 94th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee: Drive My Car

by A.J. 

Best Pictures 74: 2021 ( 94th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee

Drive My Car

“Those who survive keep thinking about the dead one way or another.”

Not much happens in Drive My Car, but it is not a boring film, at least not for me. The Oscar nominated screenplay by Takamasa Oe and Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, who also directs, greatly expands upon the short story of the same name by Haruki Murakami, which itself is light on plot. Characters are explored deeply and quietly and there are buried emotions delivered with strong performances from a great cast. Despite the character explorations and even the incorporation of another Murakami story (Sherezade, also from the same story collection, Men Without Women), Drive My Car never really justifies its three hour runtime. 

Perhaps I would feel differently if Drive My Car had been a three part miniseries because that is how it feels. The first 40 minutes turn out to be an extended prologue introducing us to an actor and theater director, Yûsuke Kafuku played by Hidetoshi Nishijima, and his wife Oto, a screenwriter played by Reika Kirishima. Unbeknownst to Oto, Kafuku discovers she is having an affair and chooses not to confront her. One day, Oto says she has something to tell him when he comes home from work but Kafuku returns home to find that she has died suddenly. Then the opening credits start, and in many ways this is when the movie really starts.

Two years later, Kafuku is invited to Hiroshima to direct a production of Chekov’s Uncle Vanya. Due to a traffic accident caused by his impaired vision, the producers of the play insist Kafuku have a chauffeur, Misaki Watari, a laconic young woman played by Tôko Miura. Neither says much to each other about themselves or anything else at first, but the film’s length allows for their relationship to build gradually and believably. To play the title character of Uncle Vanya, Kafuku casts Kōji Takatsuki, played by Masaki Okada, the man with whom Oto was having an affair. Tensions build slowly and their confrontation happens in an unexpected and interesting way. 

I don’t necessarily begrudge Drive My Car’s three hour runtime. It allows for characters to develop and reveal themselves in a natural way which is a rare occurrence for a movie of any genre in any era. However, the many scenes of quiet driving, parking, and rehearsals, including three full audition scenes, come across as padding–which this adaptation of Murakami’s story does not need. Thanks to Hidetoshi Nishijima and Tôko Miura’s great understated performances I found myself compelled enough by Kafuku and Watari’s emotional journeys, especially their reluctance to take such journeys. Watching Drive My Car I was reminded of the films of the great Yasujirô Ozu (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, Floating Weeds) whose films focused on the emotional lives of everyday people. Ozu’s films often showed their characters simply sitting in a restaurant or at home and talking and, though they may sound boring, are all emotionally powerful experiences. 

Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, nominated for Best Director, is working in the same vein but maybe not in the same league as Ozu (but, really, who is?). Nonetheless, sparking a comparison to Ozu means he made a pretty effective film. Drive My Car did not connect with me as strongly as it has with many other viewers and Academy members. Still, I think this film is worth watching if you can find the time. 

Nominee: Teruhisa Yamamoto, producer

Director: Ryûsuke Hamaguchi

Screenplay: Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, Takamasa Oe based on the short story by Haruki Murakami

Cast: Hidetoshi Nishijima, Tōko Miura, Masaki Okada, Reika Kirishima

Production Companies: C&I Entertainment, Culture Entertainment, Bitters End, et al.

Distributor: Bitters End

Release Date: November 24th, 2021

Total Nominations: 4, including Best Picture

Other Nominations: Director-Ryûsuke Hamaguchi; Adapted Screenplay-Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, Takamasa Oe; International Feature Film

13 Nights of Shocktober: Eyes Without a Face

by A.J. 

This is my favorite time of year, second only to Christmas. Autumn has arrived, the weather is cooling down, and October becomes the month-long celebration of scary movies called Shocktober. So, in the days leading up Halloween I’ll be posting some horror movie recommendations to help you celebrate Shocktober.

Night 5: French Horror Night: 
“My face frightens me. My mask frightens me even more.”
Eyes Without a Face

There’s a good argument that the 1960 French film Eyes Without a Face is more of a thriller with horror elements than an all-out horror movie. However you classify it, Eyes Without a Face is a peculiar film with haunting imagery. Since its addition to the Criterion Collection and late-night airings on TCM, it has become almost like required viewing for fans of classic horror and international horror films. Eyes Without a Face could qualify as “arthouse horror,” or "elevated horror," but watching it isn’t like doing homework. Eyes Without a Face is its own brand of horror.

After a car accident disfigures Christiane (Edith Scob), her father, Dr. Genessier (Pierre Brasseur), a renowned plastic surgeon, fakes her death and keeps her locked away at their country estate. He makes her wear an expressionless white mask and conducts experimental surgeries to restore her face. Dr. Genessier is acting entirely on his own wishes, not his daughter's; he mentions briefly that he is responsible for the accident that maimed her. Dr. Genessier’s loyal and murderous assistant, Louise (Alida Valli), preys on young women to lure to the chateau for the doctor to use in his experiments. Christiane wants none of this, but she is a prisoner in her own home.

There are elements of body horror in Eyes Without a Face though it is not as graphic or explicit as the modern era films of David Cronenberg or Guillermo Del Toro. However, there is a prolonged scene of surgery where a girl’s face is removed that is graphic and gross. It is not played for sensation but coldly and clinically without any background music and very few cuts. The horror of the scene comes from its context. There is nothing sadistic to the surgery, Dr. Genessier is just doing his work. The final moments of the film are filled with eerie and creepy imagery beautifully shot in stark black and white.

This is a good film to watch with someone that doesn’t like horror movies but wants to watch something spooky. It is totally unlike anything resembling a conventional horror movie. There are no pop-up scares. The villains are not especially devilish or sadistic. The climax where Christiane finally takes agency of her own fate is played low-key. There is a detached feeling between the film and its macabre subject matter. It also has the structure of a mystery/thriller though we the audience know every angle of the story. Christiane’s fiancé believes she is still alive and detectives are on the case of the missing girls, but these elements are in the far background.

Eyes Without a Face straddles the thriller and horror genres and also the classic and modern film eras. The unsensational, almost documentary-like approach to the story and characters lean towards the trends and style of the French New Wave being pioneered at the time by Francois Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard. The score, however, is firmly rooted in the older era of filmmaking and feels too jaunty at times for what is happening on screen. The Criterion Collection, dedicated to highlighting notable classic and modern films, has few horror films in its library. I'm glad this is one of them. 

Best Pictures #64: 2019 (92nd) Academy Awards: My Pick for Best Picture

by A.J.

Best Pictures #64

The 2019 (92nd) Academy Awards

History was made at the 92nd Academy Awards for films released in 2019. The South Korean film Parasite won Oscars for Original Screenplay, International Film, Director, and, in a historic first, Best Picture. In 1933, The Private Life of Henry VIII became the first non-Hollywood film to be nominated for Best Picture and win an Academy Award (Charles Laughton for Best Actor). In 1938, Grand Illusion made history by becoming the first foreign language film to earn a nomination for Best Picture. A total of 11 foreign language films (or 12 if you include 2006's Babel, which has some scenes in English), including Parasite, over an 80 year time span would earn Best Picture nominations. A foreign film earning a Best Picture nomination is no easy feat, even in the expanded "up to 10 nominees" era, but the contention of these films is usually not taken seriously; that film would win Best Foreign Language Film (now called International Film), and that was that. Until February 9th, 2020. 

The British World War I action thriller 1917 was released at the very tail end of 2019 and quickly earned precursor awards (Golden Globes, BAFTAs). 1917 and and its director, Sam Mendes, took frontrunner status and seemed like locks for the Academy Awards. Parasite was a lock to win the newly renamed International Film category, and Bong Joon-ho and Han Jin-won became favorites to win in the Original Screenplay category (and indeed they did). 

Bong Joon-ho's win for Best Director and Parasite's win for Best Picture were the most pleasing upsets in recent Oscar history. In his acceptance speech for Best Director, Bong Joon-ho honored fellow nominees Scorsese and Tarantino and asked for a "Texas chainsaw" to split the Oscar statue. The audience at the Academy Awards (judging from what I saw on TV) matched my own and doubtless many others: initial shock followed by total delight. The cast and crew of Parasite were noticeably thrilled (it's always great to see people that are actually happy to win an award). Not only was Parasite's win a landmark moment for international cinema and Academy Awards history and film history, but it encapsulated everything that the Oscars could and should be. A brilliantly crafted, superb film that uses every aspect of filmmaking to the fullest was singled out for its achievements drawing even more attention it, and, hopefully, new audiences. And for viewers at home, the ceremony had an actual sense of excitement, as opposed to being a parade of preordained winners from start to finish (though there were some of those too).

 

Overall, the the 9 Best Picture nominees of 2019 were an interesting group. They included period pictures, war films, satires, a literary adaptation, a comic book movie, a crime drama, a divorce drama, and, of course, a foreign film. Except for Joker, they were all strong, entertaining films that I would recommend. I'm glad that a movie that I never would have seen, Ford v Ferrari, picked up a Best Picture nomination (it ended up with well deserved wins for Sound Editing and Film Editing) so that I had to watch it and got to be thoroughly entertained and thrilled by its quality filmmmaking. I am extremely happy that Parasite won as many Oscars as it did, especially Best Picture. The reaction on social media was that the actual best picture of 2019 won Best Picture. Parasite is a superb, one-of-a-kind film. Everything about it works in harmony to excellent results: the screenplay, production design, cinematography, editing, score, performances, and direction. It is timely in its themes but it is never for a moment didactic or pandering. It is a compelling satire and thriller that challenges the audience and genre conventions. It entertains at every moment but also causes us to reflect on our society. That is cinema. That is art. That's the movies at their best. 

As excited and delighted as I am that Parasite won Best Picture and made history, were I a voting member of the Academy I would still have to cast my vote for my favorite film of 2019.

My Pick for Best Picture of 2019: I Heard You Paint Houses (The Irishman)

The great critic and filmmaker Francois Truffaut said (I'm paraphrasing) it is impossible to make an anti-war film because to put anything on film is to ennoble it. Roger Ebert believed that if Truffaut had lived to see Oliver Stone's Vietnam film Platoon (1986) he would have changed his mind. While watching I Heard You Paint Houses (The Irishman) I thought, surely if Truffaut were alive today he would agree that The Irishman in no way ennobles the criminal or the criminal life. Scorsese has been accused of glamorizing the gangsters in his crime movies (Goodfellas, Casino, and, if you count it as a crime movie, which I do, The Wolf of Wall Street), which he does to a point to show the appeal of that life to a certain kind of young person or outsider. Though the main character lives to be an old man (and not in prison), this film feels like a great tragedy from its opening moments. The elderly Frank Sheeran recalls his life, not just his crimes, like it is a confession. Anna Paquin as Frank's adult daughter, Peggy, has only a few scenes and even fewer lines but what she does with those scenes says everything about the kind of person she knows Frank actually is. Paquin does more with a cold, accusing stare than most actors or actresses could do with entire monologues. Joe Pesci was my personal pick for Best Supporting Actor. His performance steals the whole movie. That he came out of retirement for it, and likely will go back into retirement, makes it all the more notable. This film spans an adult life but also history. In the background are major events, like the Bay of Pigs invasion and Watergate break-in, covered in other films like Oliver Stone's JFK and Nixon. 

Yes, this is a very long movie; some of the best films are. I don't think any of The Irishman's effect would be lost by watching it over separate viewings. Being the story of a life over the course of 30 years, it has an episodic feel which would lend it to being watched in parts. Currently, The Irishman is only available for streaming through Netflix, but it was recently announced that the Criterion Collection will be releasing on DVD/Blu-ray later in 2020. I can't wait to actually own this movie. Everything I've said about this film makes it sound like a depressing movie, but I stress that while what happens in the film is depressing, watching the film is not. The Irishman is a masterful achievement that ranks among Martin Scorsese's best films.