My Oscar predictions for 2016

Welp...it's that time again, loveys. You know, that magical time of year when Avery proceeds to flip Tommy-Wiseau-performing-in-The Room-levels of shit over the Oscars. I refrained from writing a post on the nominees because I honestly wasn't sure my blood pressure could take it (WTF MAD MAX) and I decided to save my rants for the proper time and place: Ian's living room on the big night. My wonderful boyfriend has promised to ply me with apple martinis that night to keep me from losing ALL of my marbles over who wins and loses, but y'all know me and you know that no amount of booze in the world will keep me from blowing up if and when Mad Max beats The Revenant in all 400 technical categories they're fighting over.

So here are my guesses and my ultimate Oscar winners wish list:

Best Picture

What's going to win: The Revenant, most likely

What SHOULD win: Spotlight or Room

Why: I will not deny that The Revenant is a technical masterpiece. With that said, there's a little too much shock value in it for me. One of the things I loved most about both Spotlight and Room was the careful depiction of what could have quickly turned into Oscar-bait subject matter. Both films had heavy material that was given special treatment, so that the implication of child abuse, or the scandalous off-screen rape of a kidnapped young woman, was just that, off-screen. One thing that I truly hate is when movies try to shock their audiences into thinking the stories are better than they really are. Room and Spotlight didn't fall into that trap, whereas The Revenant wasn't shy about laying on the gore, which greatly took away from my enjoyment of the film. Therefore, were I on the Academy team, my vote would go to either Room, or Spotlight.

Best Adapted Screenplay
What's going to win: The Big Short
What SHOULD win: Room
Why: Full disclosure - I haven't seen The Big Short yet, so I am relying entirely on Ian's report of the film. But with that said, I have seen the other candidates, and none of them compare to the haunting brilliance of Room. I swear that book-to-film adaptations are at their best when the authors are allowed to adapt their own screenplays, and Room is certainly no exception. It's sad. It's sweet. It's powerful. But above all of that, it's a truly captivating story. I couldn't have looked away from the screen if I'd tried. Besides...c'mon, Academy. You need to redeem yourselves for nominating the incoherent Inherent Vice over Gillian Flynn's brilliant Gone Girl. The behind-the-camera side of the Oscars is such a dude-fest--at least give Emma Donoghue her moment to shine, please.

Best Original Screenplay
What's going to win: Spotlight
What SHOULD win: Spotlight
Why: No, really, if Spotlight doesn't win...bad things will happen. The alcohol supply of Shelby Township will be greatly depleted. Granted, Bridge of Spies was great, as was Inside Out...but c'mon, Academy, Spotlight just plain deserves it. It's a film that doesn't sound exciting on paper, but takes a realistic look at journalism (as opposed to the craziness you usually see on TV) and makes a flat logline into a tense--and triumphant--story about what happens when ordinary people become heroes. Also, Spotlight has the brilliant, traffic-stopping line, "We got two stories here: a story about degenerate clergy, and a story about a bunch of lawyers turning child abuse into a cottage industry. Which story do you want us to write? Because we're writing one of them." Amazing.

Best Leading Actress
Who's going to win: Brie Larson, without a doubt
Who SHOULD win: Brie Larson, without a freaking doubt
Why: Can you tell I really, really, really loved Room? I mean holy shit, I loved that film to a possibly unhealthy extent. About twelve years ago, I saw Brie Larson in a Disney TV movie called Right On Track, a girly-sports film that told the story of drag racing sisters Erica and Courtney Enders. Larson played the younger sister Courtney, a flirty, fun, cute girl who seemed to never worry about anything. And now...holy shit. I wouldn't have recognized her if I hadn't already known who it was. Anytime I can watch an actor or actress I love in a film and forget that it's them, I know beyond any reasonable doubt that they have done their job and done it well. And in Room, Brie Larson does her job very, very well.

Best Leading Actor
Who's going to win: Leonardo DiCaprio
Who SHOULD win: Bryan Cranston
Why: Look, I love me some Leo just as much as every other fangirl out there...but really, Academy? Really? Y'all seem to have this thing for nominating an actor or actress multiple times and then finally giving them the Oscar just because, well, it's kind of time already, but it's not even their best film. Like I said, The Revenant was a technical masterpiece, but it just doesn't compare to Inarritu's last effort, Birdman...and DiCaprio's performance here just doesn't compare to the ones he turned in for Catch Me if You Can, Inception, or The Departed. Cranston, on the other hand, truly outdid himself in Trumbo, playing a man who would have made Breaking Bad's Heisenberg roll his eyes so hard they'd fall out. Added to which, well, Trumbo is just overall a better film...but try telling that to the Hollywood Foreign Press. (Don't even talk to me about the Golden Globes. Just don't.) And since my all-time favorite Will Smith performance couldn't be in the ring (why, Academy, why?!?), then please give that statue to Bryan Cranston. Seriously, the man deserves it.

Best Animated Feature
What's going to win: Inside Out
What SHOULD win: Either Inside Out or Shaun the Sheep
Why: Pixar is the best, we all know that, but don't rule out Aardman Animation. Shaun the Sheep is a truly amazing film, possibly one of the all-time best animated features I've ever seen, and I'd love to see the filmmakers steal an Oscar for their work, especially given that the Annie Awards made the disgusting decision to thoroughly overlook Shaun the Sheep. But with that said...well...Inside Out is just fantastic. It's one of Pixar's best, without a doubt--and yes, I am counting Up in that, everyone--so I will not be disappointed at all if and when Inside Out takes home the Oscar next week.

Best Supporting Actress
Who's going to win: Alicia Vikander
Who SHOULD win: Rooney Mara
Why: I don't mean to hate on Vikander, but The Danish Girl left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and I'm not just saying that because of my irrational dislike of Eddie Redmayne. While some critics piled on the love, actual members of the LGBT community were less warm and some were outright disgusted by the film's twisting of actual historical events. As for me, well, I just kind of tried to avoid it. Now, I will grant you that Carol wasn't that good either, but the acting--especially that of the two leads--was outstanding, and this is without a doubt Rooney Mara's best performance to date. But hey, why give her the Oscar for a performance that deserves it, when they can wait a few years and give it to her when she plays a woman dying of chickenpox or something?

Best Supporting Actor
Who's going to win: Rocky Balboa--I mean, Sylvester Stallone
Who SHOULD win: Either Mark Ruffalo or Mark Rylance
Why: Unpopular opinion time, but I'm not a fan of the Rocky films. To an extent, yes, I like them, but I've never thought of any of them as Oscar-worthy and I've always thought Stallone was better behind the camera than in front of it. Ruffalo and Rylance both turned in fantastic performances in their respective films...but as much as I loved Ruffalo's portrayal of passionate journalist Mike Rezendes, I have to admit I'm favoring Rylance just a tiny bit because his performance in Bridge of Spies was just plain perfect: not flashy, not shouty, but deeply sympathetic and incredibly memorable.

Best Director
Who's going to win: Either Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu or George Miller (WHYYYY)
Who SHOULD win: Either Inarritu or Tom McCarthy
Why: WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU, ACADEMY?!?!?!?!? I mean I can understand all the technical awards but how, HOW, in the name of all things sacred and profane, did Mad Max make it into the Best Picture and Best Director categories? With that said, Inarritu seems to be in the lead, and rightly so--directing The Revenant was certainly no small feat, even if Birdman was infinitely better in my opinion--but I'll still admit that Spotlight has all my love, so I'm pulling for McCarthy even if I know he has no chance in the world of winning.

Best Film Editing
What's going to win: Either The Revenant or Mad Max
What SHOULD win: Star Wars
Why: I know, I know--"but Avery, you didn't even SEE The Force Awakens in theaters!" No, I did not, but hear me out. Whatever your opinion of the prequels, you have to admit that consistently Star Wars has performed well in three categories: music, VFX and editing. (Note that "screenplay" was not included in that list of kudos. I love you, Lucas, but come the fuck on.) Now, I will grant you that I have only seen promotional clips and trailers...but it seems that the pattern has held for episode 7. So, Academy, if you feel like being cool this year, give Star Wars some love. (But seriously, thank you from the bottom of my heart for not giving it Best Picture or, God forbid, Best Screenplay.)

Best Hair & Makeup
What's going to win: *sigh* Mad Max
What SHOULD win: Carol....OH WAIT IT CAN'T IT WASN'T NOMINATED
Why: Oh my God, does there always have to be at least one of these? Carol had absolutely beautiful costume, hair and makeup...but for some unknown reason, it wasn't nominated. So, to Mad Max the Oscar will most likely go. And I'll admit, given Carol's omission, that's probably the right place for it to be. Hey, I said I didn't like the story behind Mad Max, I never said the technical elements didn't align.

Best Score
What's going to win: Most likely, The Hateful 8
What SHOULD win: Either Hateful 8 or Star Wars
Why: Full disclosure: I haven't seen The Hateful 8, so I don't know how the music works in context of the film. I do know, however, that the score is a pleasure to listen to on its own. But if the Oscar doesn't go to Hateful 8 (and in my opinion, it should), there's no better man to take it home than John Williams.

Best Original Song
What's going to win: "Til It Happens to You," if there's any justice in this world
What SHOULD win: ...do I even have to say it?
Why: First of all, can someone please tell me how the damn 50 Shades song ended up here instead of "See You Again" from Furious 7? I mean, good lord above, I don't even like the Furious franchise and I got teary-eyed listening to that. Academy...you confuse me. But yes, since "See You Again" was mysteriously excluded, please, please give the Oscar to the equally-heartbreaking "Til It Happens To You." Just please, I'm begging you, don't give it to "Earned It."

Best VFX
What's going to win: Mad Max. I'm sure of it.
What SHOULD win: Mad Max or Star Wars
Why: Because, lovelies, credit where credit is due. I'm not a huge fan of either franchise and I hate, hate, haaaaate that Mad Max was nominated in so many categories where other, more-deserving films should have taken the spot...but holy cow did it ever deliver in those technical categories. But again, Star Wars consistently brings the VFX game, so I would be happy with either one. On another note, I'm very surprised that Pan and Jurassic World didn't make it into the top five here, as those were both fantastically-done visually pleasing films.

Best Costume Design
What's going to win: Mad Max
What SHOULD win: Carol
Why: I know, I know. Mad Max was fantastical and magical and sci-fi and awesome, and we should all aspire to have such mad costume game in our films...but, guys, Carol was just so damn pretty. Again, I would have loved to see Pan nominated here, but given the critical response to the movie, I guess that was never going to happen.

Best Production Design
What's going to win: Either Mad Max or The Revenant
What SHOULD win: Bridge of Spies
Why: I've already covered in detail why Bridge of Spies truly deserves to win this one. But let me reiterate anyway, Bridge of Spies really deserves to win this one. The sets are so perfectly designed and a treat to look at--even the darker scenes set within war-torn Berlin or tucked away in a POW holding cell--and really, I can't believe they didn't freaking time-travel back to the 1950s to shoot this damn thing. I love you, Inarritu, but The Revenant just didn't compare this go-round.

Best Cinematography
What's going to win: It damn well better be The Revenant
What SHOULD win: The Revenant (duh)
Why: I admit I didn't like The Revenant as much as Birdman, but good God, did the camera department deliver in both cases. I loved the all-one-shot look in Birdman, but honestly, the cinematography was the only thing I really, truly enjoyed about The Revenant. So yeah, Mad Max may still have a shot, but this award damn well better go to Emmanuel Lubezki.

Best Feature Documentary
What's going to win: Amy, most likely
What SHOULD win: ...let's not even go there
Why: I have nothing against Amy. What I'm really, really pissed about, though, and will continue to be despite Ian's best efforts, is that two of the best documentaries of 2015, He Named Me Malala and The Death of Superman Lives: What Happened, were THOROUGHLY IGNORED. Not for the first time, I ask: WHAT THE LIVING HELL, ACADEMY?!?!? Does it not count as a documentary if it's not about someone dying or getting shot at--oh wait. Is it not "good enough" unless it exposes some kind of corruption--oh wait. SERIOUSLY. WHAT ARE YOU ALL SMOKING IN THERE. One of the films you so callously ignored was a beautiful and touching story of a girl who stood up for what was right in the face of horrible oppression; the other shows in painstaking detail the amount of work that went into what would have been a fantastic movie that was derailed by a lack of cooperation. Really, Academy. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Best Sound Mixing
What's going to win: Either Mad Max or The Revenant
What SHOULD win: The Martian...or The Revenant
Why: Because much as I loved The Martian's use of sound, I have to admit that a bear attack in full surround sound was pretty damn impressive.

Best Sound Editing
See above.


And there we have it. Once again, I am reasonably confident that Disney will snag Best Animated Short for Sanjay's Super Team (although I would have loved to see Lava nominated as well, but I can't say I'm shocked that Super Team was picked instead), but as I have seen none of the other shorts in Documentary or Narrative categories, so I'm pretty useless there.

As always, I'm fairly certain that there will be tears on Oscar night. So just like last year, everyone pray for Ian...he's the one who's going to have to ply me with alcohol all night and/or pick up the pieces if and when Tom McCarthy inevitably loses to George Miller.

And for my last rant of the night...can someone please tell me why, once again, all of the female directors who put forth some fantastic pictures this year were left out? Really, it's like they're actively trying to ignore the girls at this point. *shakes head* Oh well. Next year, maybe that'll change, since Jessica Chastain, Queen Latifah, and a few others have put together their own super-team of lady filmmakers. Hell, maybe someday we'll actually have more than one female nominee in that category...wouldn't that be something?

Dear #OscarsSoWhite

Full disclosure: I am a white 20-something woman. This comes from the perspective of someone outside the industry, who has not yet broken into the "real" festival circuit, who prefers making shorts and reviewing movies to practicing politics on Tumblr. So do with that what you will. Perhaps I would feel differently were I a black woman. I don't know. But this is what I think.

#OscarsSoWhite activists, I wonder what Sidney Poitier would like to say to you. You see, back in 1964, Poitier made history as the first black actor to win a competitive Oscar for his role in Lilies in the Field. We all know what was going on in America in the 1960s. We've all had history class; we've all watched newsreel after newsreel and read the firsthand accounts of the Civil Rights Movement. Some of us may even know people who participated in the marches, or have family members who saw the Detroit race riots, or have grandparents who heard Dr. King's "I have a dream" speech. We may not have been there, but we all know it happened. But I think some of us, in the current atmosphere of "if it's not PC, it should be illegal," may have forgotten some of the smaller victories of that movement.

Like, say, a wonderful actor winning the first Oscar ever given to a black person, during a time when he wasn't even allowed to drink from the same water fountains as the people who voted for him.

I wonder what Poitier would say to you, #OscarsSoWhite activists, for demanding what people have begun to call "Affirmative Action Oscars." Now, I will be first to say that, yeah, the Academy's criteria could be better defined, and their voting process could be improved, and overall the whole thing could be more transparent. I'm not debating that for a minute. But terrifying and guilting the whole band of them into submission will only feel like victory for a moment. Kicking up a fuss is all well and good, but let's think about what the consequences will be.

Let's think about what you're saying. You accuse the Academy of racism. You scream "more diversity, more diversity, we want diversity and we want it now!" You say that the Oscars are racist. Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't. But can we consider that a Mexican man won Best Director and Best Picture last year, and may well do it again this year? Have we forgotten about 12 Years a Slave, and all its victories? Have we forgotten Lupita Nyong'o, who not only kicked ass in that film, but is also the first Kenyan and first Mexican actress to win an Academy Award? Have we forgotten that "Glory" won Best Original Song last year? Let's also not forget Octavia Spencer, who won for her role in The Help, or Viola Davis, who was nominated for the same film. Hell, how about we remember that the freaking president of the Academy is a black woman? TAKE THAT, GLASS CEILING!

And speaking of women...do we count towards "diversity?" How about Kathryn Bigelow, beating out the biggest blockbuster of the year for Best Picture, and winning Best Director--the first woman to ever do so? No women have been nominated for Best Director since her win. Am I allowed to boycott the Oscars on the basis of sexism, purely because I'm furious--and I am, believe me--that George Miller was nominated for an allegedly "feminist" film (the quotation marks should tell you exactly how I feel about THAT description) instead of, oh I don't know, actually nominating female directors? And don't say there weren't enough to consider this year because there were. Marielle Heller. Maya Forbes. Sarah Gavron. I could go on, but I won't. Am I allowed to be angry about that? Not really, it seems, because when I mentioned in a post on Facebook how ridiculous it was that Miller was nominated, I was quickly shut down.

#OscarsSoWhite, I think you're overlooking some people in your quest for "diversity." Let's be honest, you don't want real diversity. You want affirmative action. You want a spectacle. You want the Academy to start phasing out older voters because you believe all old people are racist. "Get out of here with your white privilege!" you cry whenever someone points this out. "We just want what's fair! We want diversity! We want equality! We don't want affirmative action, we just want to make sure that some black people are nominated every year!" Um, yes, that does count as affirmative action. Don't pretend it doesn't. Whenever someone dares to point out that the Academy chose who they chose because of talent, not because of race, you scream WHITE PRIVILEGE! RACISM! YOU JUST DON'T GET IT! Maybe we don't "get it," but sometimes, I don't think you do either.

Where are all the Native American voices kicking up a fuss because none of their number were nominated for Oscars? While #OscarsSoWhite activists bemoan Hollywood's lack of inclusion, they're celebrating because Revenant actually treated them with a degree of respect, instead of pulling a Lone Ranger. (Not for the first time, I really, really questioned Johnny Depp's judgment when he starred in that stinker.)

Where are the LGBT community members yelping about Carol not being nominated for best picture? As Ian McKellen pointed out, there have been plenty of straight men to win Oscars for playing gay men, but where are the openly gay Best Actors? Should we be angry about that too? Apparently not, because aside from McKellen, no one else has really tried to point it out. Not recently, anyway.

And then there's Jada Pinkett Smith, who blasted the Oscars and then announced a boycott when her husband wasn't nominated. Now don't get me wrong, if it looked like Ian were up for an Oscar and then suddenly he wasn't, I'd be pretty damn upset. And considering my intense dislike of Eddie Redmayne, who you'll never convince me deserved the Oscar that Michael Keaton should've won last year (and he's nominated again this year--ugh!), maybe I'm the last person to talk about hating the Academy for the wrong reasons, but with that said, I think there's something a tiny bit petty about the way she handled it. (And for the record, I'm not the only one. Just in case you needed an opinion from someone who isn't a non-Hollywood-playing white girl.)

First of all, ma'am, you are the wife of a Hollywood superstar. You really are. Hell, I didn't even like Will Smith until I saw him in Concussion, but you can't deny he has pull at the box office. You're married to a millionaire who frequently competes with Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman, both of whom have twice his talent, for the title of Most Popular Black Actor in the History of Forever. You live in a mansion and have two beautiful children, both of whom seem on their way to having successful careers themselves when they're older. You yourself have a successful career as an actress and musician.

And yet you go on social media and say "We are not recognized for our artistic accomplishments." Ma'am, what we are you talking about here? Black people? Black women? All of the above? Surely you can't be referring to Lupita Nyong'o (who was voted Woman of the Year in addition to her Oscar) or Octavia Spencer. Can't be talking about Spike Lee, who was given an honorary Oscar by the very organization he denounces as racist. In fact, Mrs. Smith, you can't even be talking about your own husband, who has been nominated for 85 awards and received 45 over the course of his career.

"But he hasn't won an Oscar!" you may cry. Okay, but you can't chalk that down to racism, because guess what? Both times he was nominated, he lost to another black man. No, really. In 2002 he lost to Denzel Washington, in 2007 he lost to Forest Whitaker. Now, I may not be a data analyst, but that to me does not point in the direction of a racist Academy.

I loved Concussion. I loved it with all my heart. Had I seen it before I composed my 2015 Top 10 list, it would have snagged a spot in the top 5. It's the first Will Smith movie I've seen that I truly enjoyed purely because wasn't a WILL SMITH MOVIE, it was a truly amazing film in which Will Smith happened to star. He did a damn good job in that movie and I would have loved to see him get nominated. I fully expected him to beat Bryan Cranston out for the Golden Globe, and--boy, I can't believe I'm saying this--I was crushed when Leonardo DiCaprio took Best Drama Actor instead. You get it. I loved Concussion and I loved Will Smith in Concussion and I wish he'd been nominated.

But I can understand why he wasn't, and I don't think it has anything to do with race.

Hear me out. Let's think about the last twenty years or so of nominees for Best Actor. Hell, let's look at the winners last year: one played a guy with a terrible illness, and one played a guy who was a complete jackass. There's your pool of victors, right there. Look at the data. Data, as my very rational, analytic mother has taught me, does not lie. And if you look at who's won in recent years, you'll see a lot of guys with terrible illness and a lot of complete jackasses.

Film critics seem to have enormous soft spots for "complex"--a.k.a. "asshole"--characters. They're so complex, they say. They're so deep. They're so complicated. Give us more! We love evil geniuses, but we won't call them that! We as a species seem to have a love-affair with jerks who happen to be really good at their jobs. How else to explain our fascination with Steve Jobs? How else to explain why we love shows like Sherlock, or House, or Supernatural, all of which feature leading men who have skill to spare and an ax to grind? We hate "perfect" characters, because the way we see it, "perfect" characters must be boring. If your character is lovable, screenwriters, you'd better put him through a hell of a lot of pain. And if he's fantastic at what he does, you'd better make him a jerk with a heart of gold, or better yet a just plain jerk, if you want the actor who plays him to win Best Actor.

And I'm very sorry to say that the character Will Smith played in Concussion was not a jerk, nor a jerk with a heart of gold, nor did he have a horrible illness or undergo severe trauma with lasting results. He was charming, he was triumphant, he was lovable, he was resilient, he was skilled at what he did, he was intelligent, he was polite. He was just about the best damn role model a kid could have. (Parents, take note--as soon as your kids are old enough to hear a few curse words, do show them Concussion.)

So there was no way he was ever going to win Best Actor. He just wasn't. He wasn't "complex" enough, he was "too nice," he was too perfect. The fact that the actor who played him did a perfect job of portraying him just wasn't good enough.

Let's look at the guys who got nominated, instead. Michael Fassbender as Steve Jobs (jackass!), Eddie Redmayne as the titular Danish Girl (terrible pain and suffering--HE ALMOST DIES, YAY!), Leonardo DiCaprio as Hugh Glass (terrible pain and suffering--ALMOST DIES!), Bryan Cranston (jackass--lovable jackass, but still!), and Matt Damon as Mark Watney (pain and suffering--ALMOST DIES!). It sounds simplistic to put it this way, but Will Smith's character was neither a jackass, nor did he almost die. Therefore it's safe to say the Academy probably didn't think his performance was "dramatic" enough to be nominated.

Is this fair? HELL NO! But it's not an issue of race. It's an issue of the Academy having wack criteria when it comes to picking their nominees. That's a whole new bucket of worms to delve into, and it's one that won't be easily solved. There are ways, sure, but judging by the reaction from within the ranks when the Academy imposed new voting restrictions, those suggestions aren't going to go over too well and will take a long time to successfully refine. But there are changes that can be made, and these changes can and will, I think, happen over time.

But they shouldn't happen like this.

Really. They should not be the result of bullying, and demands for "diversity" that really are only coming from one sources, demands that are reactive and not proactive, demands that only benefit one target group and lead others in the wayside. And before you cry "your privilege is showing!" I'm not talking about white people. I'm talking about other ethnic groups besides black people. I'm talking about gay men and women. I'm talking about transgender actors. I'm talking about women behind the camera (for the love of God, women, get behind the camera and let's make some movies that are better than The Intern so we can get nominated next year). I'm talking about real diversity, not just a cry for more recognition.

No one is entitled to an Oscar. No one will get an Oscar just by demanding it...and if you do get an Oscar just by demanding it, just by scaring and whining and bullying and guilting the Academy into voting for you, that Oscar loses almost all of its significance.

At my high school, there was a girl in my department, the film department, who was very well-liked. She had a thing with one of the guys in the department at the beginning of the school year, and later got an important crew role on another person's thesis set. She confided in me, "I hate not knowing whether I'm getting attention because they like me, or because I'm pretty and made out with one of their friends."

Well, here's the Hollywood equivalent of that, I guess. From here on out, black actors who are nominated or win Best Actor awards will not know if it's because they're truly talented, or because the Academy will face backlash and shame if they do not nominate those actors. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I would really, really hate not knowing which one it is. That, to me, is truly awful--not one or two years in a row with a lack of color among the nominees.

Avery Tries to be a Critic: 'Carol'

I wanted to like Carol. I really did. I love Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara. I've always had a soft spot for Kyle Chandler. I love period pieces, especially mid-century ones--I think we all remember what I thought of Big Eyes--and I love LGBT films. And after I read all the rave reviews, and saw that Carol got a handful of Oscar nominations, I was so excited to see it. I expected a love story for the ages. I expected a film that conveyed the magic and mystery, and the pain, of first love. And with all the rage that it wasn't nominated for Best Picture, I expected...well...an Oscar-worthy film.

And I didn't get it.

Let's start with the positives: Carol is an absolutely beautiful film. It's a work of art. It really is. The nominations for cinematography, music, and costumes are well-deserved. Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett kick ass as Therese and Carol, bringing a subtlety and glamour to the film that is usually absent in epic romances. Even when their male counterparts--Jake Lacy (Obvious Child) as Therese's boyfriend Richard; Kyle Chandler (Early Edition, Friday Night Lights) as Carol's ex-husband Harge--go into melodrama mode, Mara and Blanchett remain subtle, stoic and absolutely breathtaking. The lovely women seamlessly fit into their perfectly-crafted environment, which combines light, color and texture to create a cinematic wonder.

Unfortunately, that beautiful world isn't enough to carry the film all on its own. The story is surprisingly thin and disappointingly predictable. Worse, all the characters other than the two leads are one-dimensional stereotypes. Every man in the film is either a total jackass, or a throwaway character that exists only to move the plot forward. (Well, hey. At least SOMETHING is moving the plot forward.) Even Carol's best friend Abby is something of a ghost, popping in and out when needed with little background or motive of her own. It's almost as if literally every character but the two leads are puppets that exist only to explain the motives of Therese and Carol.

This issue is particularly irritating when the film's two-hour running time is taken into consideration, along with the surplus of establishing shots, insert shots, and lingering tracking shots of almost nothing at all. The cinematography is fantastic. The editing and script, however, leave something to be desired. There's 120 minutes here to play with, and yet it feels like there's no real story. Carol feels like a screenplay that never got past the log line. There's no real subplots. Characters that should be important, like Carol's daughter Rindy, are little more than human MacGuffins. Screen time is wasted on elevators and long tracking shots of train sets, while character development falls to the wayside. As for the antagonists, I've seen dollar-store cashiers more threatening. I get what they were trying to do--the oppressive atmosphere of the 1950s is the "real" villain--but it doesn't quite play out, leaving the film feeling unfortunately empty when all is said and done.

With all that said, Carol is still worth a watch. It's up there with Bridge of Spies in terms of production design, and the cinematography is to die for. Fellow feminists, you will be pleased to know that whatever other faults the script may have, it does pass the Bechdel Test--at least several times over, too. Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett are in top form, and their nominations for Best Lead and Supporting Actress are well deserved. If Mara's turn as Lisbeth Salander didn't knock your socks off, her performance here will. (And can we please stop trashing on her for Pan, because that is really, really unfair.) Blanchett is as classy as ever...I don't know how that woman can make smoking and cursing look smooth, but she does...and her performance as the elusive Carol would make just about any of Hitchcock's blondes green with envy. It's the rest of the cast that doesn't quite hold up. Someone please tell Kyle Chandler that when acting opposite an actress as nuanced as Cate Blanchett, the "yell and project like a high-school theater major" approach does not work. But the ladies carry the movie well enough, when their star performances are combined with the beautiful visuals. It's just a shame that the story couldn't bring the same punch as the other elements.

I hate to pit women filmmakers against each other, but take a look at Jenny's Wedding in comparison to Carol. When I first saw Jenny's Wedding all I could think was "oh my God my parents have to see this." It was relevant. It would have been relevant two years ago when I was dating a girl (of whom my parents did not approve, for the record) and it's relevant now when I'm on the verge of moving out, because the film isn't really about a lesbian relationship, it's about learning who you are without your parents' approval. What's Carol really about, besides a lesbian romance? It doesn't seem like the writer or the director knew going in. And that is what takes a film that could have been fantastic, and knocks it down to just "really, really good." Still an A-grade, no doubt, but it's sad, because Carol deserved to be an A+.

Avery Tries to be a Critic: Concussion

I'll be first to admit I have a complicated relationship with football. I'm not a fan, per se. I'll watch a game when it's on. I have some teams that I like more than other teams. (I will neither confirm nor deny that there may or may not be a New York Giants pennant on my bedroom wall.) I love Superbowl Day. But if you asked me, right this very minute, which teams are in the lead to get to the Superbowl, I couldn't tell you. Most of the time when my dad watches a game, I'm working on a blog post or playing on my DS instead of watching. I can't name the quarterback of every team in the NFL. I certainly can't name the coaches or the averages. Don't even ask me who won the Superbowl last year, I can't remember. I don't dislike football, I just have too many other interests to follow it closely.

But...

When I was a kid, Monday was my favorite day of the week. Why? Because every Monday night the TV would be on, the last moments of whatever inane sitcom was popular that season would be ticking away, and my dad and I would be standing in the middle of the living room, eagerly awaiting the start of Monday Night Football. As soon as the clock hit 8, the Hank Williams Jr theme song would begin and we'd party like it was the last night on earth. I still remember being small enough for my dad to pick me up and hold me while we danced, bouncing me in time to the music. I remember how on the nights that the Dallas Cowboys played, I'd put on my cheerleader uniform, a gift from my dad's family, while waiting for the song to start. I remember jumping up and down hard enough to shake the pictures on the walls, while my mom laughed and mock-scolded us, "Stop it! You'll break the floors!"

So for me, football is more of a childhood memory than anything else. My dad teaching me to throw a football, rooting for the Giants against the Patriots while working on my first algebra assignments, going to my first local football game with a construction-paper pennant that my dad helped me make, unwrapping that Dallas Cowboy cheerleader uniform on my eighth birthday. That's what I think of when I think football. Who wins or loses, that doesn't really matter to me. Just the part where I got to bond with my dad, that's all I care about now and it's all I cared about then. (Guess who went with me to see Concussion tonight? If you guessed my dad...ding ding ding, we have a winner!) So I can understand why people love football, but not why people worship it. And I certainly can't understand why it's worth dying for, or worth letting other people die for it. But then again, Concussion isn't really about the sport of football.

There seems to be a theme among the Oscar candidates this year: injustice. In some of the most brilliant films of the year (Spotlight, Trumbo, Suffragette, and Bridge of Spies come to mind), the catalyst of the film is injustice, and what happens to those who try to fight it. Concussion continues in this vein by setting us up with a protagonist we can't help but like, giving him a cause we can't help but support (I don't know about you, but I'm all for keeping people from dying), and showing in full, heart-wrenching detail what happens when he's met with heavy opposition. Sure, it's a familiar story, but there's something about a good person on a crusade against injustice that works with an audience, and Concussion uses that fact to its advantage, with surprisingly strong results.

So let's get the first, most obvious issue with Concussion out of the way first: yes, it is a typical story, and yes, it does hit all the "right" notes. And yes, there are moments of triumph for the hero, and it is very, very male-heavy--not going on my list of feminist films anytime, this one--but it does get major props for casting, which I'll get to in a minute. And yeah, there are a few nice little doses of "gee, isn't America great!"/every-country-looks-up-to-America-style patriotism thrown in. Ah, the genre conventions are strong with this one...but with that said, if you don't already know the story behind it, the ending is a bit of a surprise, because...well, spoiler alert, there isn't really an ending, not in the traditional sense, and certainly not compared to, say, Spotlight, which ends with the story breaking and the newspaper hotlines lighting up with victims' stories. In most of the Oscar nominees this year it ends with a ticker-tape parade of excitement as the silence is broken, the injustice is confronted, and the heroes are victorious.

That isn't so much the case with Concussion. Yes, Dr. Omalu gets to publish his research in a medical journal, and he does finally get to speak to the players and the victims' families, but it's not a triumph on the level of Suffragette--I think we all know how that ends--because, as the post-film title cards reveal, it took years before the NFL would even openly acknowledge the link between concussions and long-term brain damage, much less do anything about it. Hell, the very last shot of the film has Dr. Omalu watching a football practice just as things heat up, implying (and rightly so) that the sport will continue to thrive in its dangerous form, even though progress has been made. It's a quieter ending, one that doesn't trumpet the "look how well-rewarded you'll be if you do the right thing!" cliché, and takes the Bridge of Spies tack of "you will know what you did, even if it takes everyone else forever and a day to recognize the significance of it." That alone tames the roar of the genre conventions and gives Concussion a very well-deserved somber undertone.

So now let's talk character development for a minute. When we first meet Bennet Omalu, he's testifying in court on behalf of a man convicted of murder and sentenced to death. He's asked about his qualifications and lists an impressive resume, so we know he's smart...but more than that, he's a nice guy. He's taking time out of what we soon discover is a fairly busy schedule just so he can save a man's life--and not a personal friend of his, mind you, but a man he doesn't know from Adam. Later, we see him go to his coroner job, where his first act of the day is to--I swear I'm not making this up, see the movie if you don't believe me--politely greet the dead body he is about to examine. If at this point you are not half in love with this character, I don't know what to tell you.

But as the film goes on it gets even better. He goes to church, which is usually used as a cheap way to mark a character as "good" or "bad," and on his way out he's asked to take in a homeless woman, fresh from Kenya, and of course he does. He knows something is wrong with Mike Webster, so he pays for the tests on the brain himself. Throughout his fight for the concussion victims, his mantra is "Tell the truth!" After his research is published and the football fans dogpile him, Omalu's boss asks him, "Did you think they'd send you a thank-you note?" and Omalu emphatically replies, "Yes!" He's not thinking in terms of fame, or money, or even professional recognition. He just wants to save lives, and he can't understand why the NFL corporate heads aren't with him on that mission. It's not the naïve innocence of a typical plucky hero, it's a combination of sincerity, compassion and, in Omalu's own words, common sense. And it's a cliché, sure, but honestly, I can't remember the last time I saw a Christian character in a mainstream film like this actually act like a Christian.

For anyone who doesn't know, I can't stand Will Smith. I really can't. Usually I will actively go out of my way to avoid seeing his films. He's right up there with Ben Stiller and Will Ferrell on my list of actors I'd rather eat liver than watch. But five minutes into the film, I swear to Pete I forgot that I was watching Will Smith. I have never, ever seen a Will Smith movie and forgot even for a second that I was watching an Official Will Smith Movie, but when I saw Concussion, I wasn't seeing a Will Smith Movie, I was seeing...well, a movie that just happened to star Will Smith. If he keeps this up, I may have to toss him onto the Jim Carrey list of actors I consistently (and wrongly) underestimate. Ditto for Alec Baldwin, another actor I'll usually avoid. He usually plays the same character. In this film, I assure you, fellow Baldwin-doubters, he does not reach into his usual bag of tricks and actually manages to portray Dr. Julian Bailes sympathetically and, more important, believably.

But what I loved more than anything else about Concussion was the way the film pointed out, on multiple occasions, that neither Dr. Bennet Omalu or, presumably, the filmmakers hate football. The people on Bennet Omalu's side of the argument don't hate the NFL. They just genuinely can't understand why the NFL doesn't want to protect their most valuable employees. And that, to me, is the heart and soul of the movie. Omalu repeatedly talks about America as a land of opportunity and freedom, and when he risks his professional credibility and personal success to stand up for those who can't (or, in this case, didn't know they needed to) stand up for themselves, he is doing what he can to protect that freedom...but of course, those who oppose him can't understand that. It's a frustrating and all too realistic problem, and the fact that it actually happened makes the film painful to watch. But it's worth it. It's so worth it. Because like every other movie that's come out this year about fighting injustice, Concussion carries a message of hope, and a call to action. Nothing will change, unless we stand behind the people who, like Dr. Omalu, just want things to be better.

Avery Tries to be a Critic: 'Southpaw'

*sigh* I tried to sit down and write a nice, calm, orderly, nothing-to-see-here review for Southpaw. I really did. But I kept experiencing strange symptoms as I wrote. Like puking in my mouth a little every time I thought about all the gratuitous, gory shots of blood pouring out of Jake Gyllenhaal's mouth. Or my eyes involuntarily rolling themselves every time I recalled the lazy, expletive-heavy dialogue. Or experiencing mild headaches at the thought of seeing one more f-ing boxing movie with a training montage set to an aggressive guitar-heavy song what the hell can we please move on from that Hollywood thank you very much.

Like everyone else who saw Avengers: Age of Ultron, I was subjected to the Southpaw trailer. I saw the movie twice, saw the trailer twice, and both times nudged my movie-going partners and whispered, “Let’s see that when it comes out.” It looked like a really, really, really good movie, okay? I mean it had a great cast, looked like a heart-wrenching story, appeared to have some very solid editing, and just seemed like it would be an Oscars contender without even trying. You know. That kind of movie.

So imagine my disappointment when it turned out to be more like…well, like every movie ever where the arrogant character learns a great life lesson after he loses everything. Even if I hadn’t seen the trailer--which is a long shot, because if you’ve been to a movie in the last six months, you couldn’t help but see the trailer--I could have told you that something bad was going to happen to Billy Hope. That he was going to get his ass kicked. He was going to lose his money. He was going to lose his fans. Now, I hate to say “he was going to lose his family,” because that sounds mean, but you know what? Called it. It’s classic Oscar-baiting Hollywood: take a character who is on top of the world, rip away everything he has, insert Old Wise Man With Tortured Past (I swear that’s a character they have in a vault, just waiting to yank out and insert as-needed) who will invariably be just what Main Character needs to get back on top, and watch him rebuild his world from the ground up. It’s uplifting, it’s classic, it’s inspirational…and it is absurdly lazy writing.

Let me tell you something. This kind of movie, the one I just described? It is really easy to make. Well, comparatively, I should say. No movie, as we’ve already discussed here, is easy, per se. Every movie takes work; you need a script, you need actors, you need locations, you need a camera and a mic, etc. But compared to blockbusters or clever kids’ films, or even an independent or midbudget classic like Interstate 60 or any of the David Lynch classics? It’s cake. You can do it for no money. Angst is cheap. Unless it’s an Oscar bid, like Southpaw, but Jesus Christ, compare the budget for Southpaw ($25 million) to the budget for, say, Gone Girl ($61 million). Now, I’m not one to judge a film by its budget--again, we’ve talked about this--but this proves my point. Angst is cheap.

It’s very, very easy to play an audience for tears. No, really. If you hurt or kill a dog, take a child away from their parents, have one star-crossed lover die and leave the other alive, kill off a mentor, or have an undeserving athlete cheat a hardworking one out of a title, you are gold, my friend. What are the circumstances surrounding these events? Doesn’t matter. Unless your audience is comprised of 500 Ron Swanson clones, pull out any of these scenarios and you’ve got a certified sob-fest on your hands. Hell, I didn’t even like Southpaw, but I was in tears when Maureen died. It’s almost a reflex: decent people can’t stand seeing other decent people in pain. If your audience has any degree of compassion, any of the above scenarios will wrench an emotional response from them. It’s filmmaking 101.

You know what’s hard? Making a detestable character appealing to an audience. In writing classes, we call that “saving the cat.” It means that if your main character is at any point going to look shady, they had better have at least one defining thing that redeems them. But it has to be simple, saving the cat, and it has to be subtle or well-placed. You don’t want the audience to think they’re being forced to like a character; remember, we all want to root for the underdog.

You know what else is hard? Making an audience laugh. I hate cheap-humor movies like Scary Movie because it’s so easy to roll with potty humor when all else fails. But writing a movie like School of Rock or My Cousin Vinny, or a darker comedy like The Ref? That’s hard. Blending comedy and drama, as in Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, is especially difficult because if you go too far in either direction you lose half your audience, and if the contrast is too sharp no one will take your movie seriously. We all know exactly what will make an audience cry. Making an audience laugh is always a toss-up, especially in this day and age where just about everything under the sun is considered offensive.

And you know what’s just about impossible? Making a movie unpredictable. Getting the audience to go “Holy shit, I did not see that coming!” Slitting Neil Patrick Harris’ throat with a boxcutter instead of giving Ben Affleck the lethal injection. Killing Janet Leigh in the shower 45 minutes into the film. Unveiling Christopher Lloyd as a cartoon in disguise. Using little green aliens to rescue Buzz and Woody from the trash incinerator. Granted some of these are adaptations and if you read the book first, you know what’s coming, but if you haven’t, the point still stands. People insist there’s nothing original anymore. Maybe there isn’t, but you can always find a plot twist--if you look for it.

The point is, I have seen Southpaw before. I have seen attractive men lose everything and rely on a wise old learned man to help them get back to the top. I have seen arrogant characters cut down to size by tragedy. It’s fun seeing people get knocked down; it’s why we hone in on fallen celebrities, isn’t it? And it’s equally satisfying to see underdogs claw their way to the top; it’s why we love those rags-to-riches tales of people getting plucked from obscurity and dolled up for their winning moment on American Idol. Sure, Southpaw is formulaic, but it’s a recipe for success, right? It’s sure to snag Gyllenhaal (who is the best damn thing about that film, no contest) at least a few good awards, if not an Oscar nomination. And it definitely put tears in my eyes, even if I knew exactly how and why the film was playing on my heartstrings.

But the problem is that after you walk out of the theater and go back to your business, a film like Southpaw is largely forgettable. Now, before we go any further with this concept, a disclaimer is in order: everyone is different, and what packs an emotional punch for some will not have the same effect on others. For someone out there, maybe Southpaw changed their life the way Sleepy Hollow and Beetlejuice changed mine. Who knows? For the last time: the movie made me cry. I’m not saying it’s meritless or that you’re stupid if you felt something when you watched it.

But so much of Southpaw relies on shock value, like the small child dropping the f-bomb, or the predictably tragic, like the way Billy Hope falls apart when he loses his wife. If you can predict every event that’s going to happen, right down to the outcome of Hope’s climactic fight with the “bad guy,” that’s not going to have as much of an impact on you as...oh, for instance, the end of Gran Torino. Nobody who saw that film is ever going to forget it. You know why? Because when those guns come out, you think Clint Eastwood is going to magically become Clint Eastwood. You don’t think it’s going to go where it ends up going. And there’s something pretty damn magical about that in and of itself.

The most incredible experiences I have ever had with a feature film were, almost invariably, born out of surprise. The twist at the midpoint of Gone Girl? That was the exact moment I fell in love with Gillian Flynn and her unbelievable writing. The surprise at the end of Breaking Dawn 2? Hate the rest of the franchise, but I’m never going to forget the exhilaration I felt watching that battle. All of Interstate 60? I never knew what was coming next, and I loved every second of it. The Man Upstairs in Lego Movie? In my opinion, that was what took the film from meh to should have won the Oscar. Nothing in Southpaw gave me that jolt of surprise, because like I said, I’ve seen it before. I knew he was going to lose, I knew he was going to be rebuilt, I knew he was going to win. My guess is that either Kurt Sutter read a hell of a lot of C.S. Lewis as a kid (the Christian allegory is strong with this one) or that he was taught to follow the Hero’s Journey to the letter when he went to film school. Either way, it doesn’t work. A movie with this much tension should not induce boredom. So please, Academy, do us all a favor and don’t consider this one when you reward Hollywood’s finest efforts this year. Give those awards to movies that did surprise their audiences, because those are the movies we’ll still be talking about in 20 years.

2015 Top 10

And here we are again! A new year is upon us, the Oscars are right around the corner, and once again it's time to list our own personal best-of lists before the Academy takes their crack at it. So just like last year, here's my breakdown of who I'd like to see in the winners' circle.

But before I do, let me throw out here that I think in terms of women in film, this year was even better than the last. Look at my top ten from last year: most of the female characters in those films were supporting players instead of leading characters, the majority of the people behind the camera were male, and when the Oscars rolled around those few women who were involved behind-the-scenes were shut out in favor of their male associates. (Someone please explain to me why Inherent Vice was nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay instead of Gone Girl? Go ahead, I'll wait.) I just hope and pray that this year, the Academy members will choose to honor stories involving women, written by women, and produced by women as well as the scene-stealers that came from their male counterparts.

10. Age of Adaline
I'd give it: Best Score
Why: I loved the premise of Age of Adaline more than the script, I'll admit. But Blake Lively and Harrison Ford have always been personal favorites of mine, and it was fantastic to see them share screen time. I liked the rest of the film, but their scenes were a standout and one of the elements that brought this movie from a runner-up to the #10 spot. Now, I know that with many other strong contenders, these two will likely not be honored for their acting, and I understand why. With that said, if there was an Academy Award for "Most Surprising Performances," these two would win it--I've never seen Harrison Ford play this kind of role before. But the real scene-stealer of this film was the music. I heard a lot of beautiful scores this year, but far and above Age of Adaline takes the cake--and that was the other factor in bringing this one into the top 10.

9. Bridge of Spies
I'd give it: Best Art Direction
Why: Because look at it! Honestly, if there was an award for Best-Researched Period Piece, Bridge of Spies would have it on lock. There was no point in the film that I felt "taken out" of the film by an anachronism or a cheap set piece. Spielberg has always been an expert at putting together a visual experience for his audience, and this is no exception. There were moments I felt like I was in that cell with Gary Powers, or in the courtroom with Rudolph Abel and James Donovan, and that was partly the actors, yes, but a huge part of it was the look of the film. You want attention to detail? I'll give you attention to detail: look at the re-creation of 1950s Berlin. You really can't get more detailed than that. Oh, and side note: if at least one of the actors in this film doesn't pull a Best Supporting Actor or even Best Actor nomination, I will be very surprised.

8. The Martian
I'd give it: Best Cinematography
Why: If I could give it "Best Wisecracks," I would. But really, this movie was freaking beautiful and I'm not even going to try and guess how much of a headache the cinematographer had by the end of the shoot. Try shooting in dust sometime. Or try shooting a bluescreen. Or try hearing your director say "oh don't worry, we'll just add this in post," and attempting to shoot something that literally isn't there. You'll see what I mean. My compliments to Dariusz Wolski for keeping his sanity, because I really don't know if I could have done that. Not to say that the actors didn't do their part in making this a delightful movie; they did, but in the end it was the landscape and the visuals that made it one of the best films of the year. (And may I just add, thank you, Ridley Scott, for making a space-themed movie with a happy ending? About time!)

7. Suffragette
I'd give it: Best Original Screenplay, Best Actress for Carey Mulligan
Why: I love movies that make me forget where I am and what my place is in the world. But I love movies that remind me of who I am even more. When I saw Suffragette, I was reminded of how lucky I am to be a 21st century woman: I can vote, I can date or marry whomever I'd like, I can have my career of choice, I can make my own money and have my own life. But it also reminded me of how many women around the world still don't have those basic rights--and how many women in my own country legally have those rights but are prevented by circumstance from exercising them--and how far we still have to go before women are seen as truly equal. And Carey Mulligan's performance is a knockout. I knew the woman could act, but it wasn't until I saw her portrayal of a mother torn between her child and her own needs that I saw just how skilled she really is.

6. Inside Out
I'd give it: Best VFX, Best Editing
Why: Because I can't give two movies the same nomination? Honestly, aside from the script (Pixar, you wonderful bastards, you did it again) what made this film so perfect was the way they created Riley's mind-landscape and made it relatable through color, light and sound. The perfect touch, in my opinion, was having the emotions "glow" from within, while the humans were given matte skin and ordinary features. Can we just appreciate how far Pixar has come since their Toy Story days? And can we please all send a few thousand well-deserved thank-you notes to the entire team of animators and graphic designers who made this film what it was? It should go without saying that should this beat out my next entry for Best Animated Feature, I probably wouldn't be disappointed in the least.

5. Shaun the Sheep
I'd give it: Best Animated Feature, Best Sound Mixing/Editing
Why: Yes, I did just admit that Inside Out will probably take this category, and rightly so, as it's one of Pixar's finest masterpieces...but oh my God can we talk about Shaun the Sheep for one minute please? This is a claymation film, which in case you didn't know are harder than hell to put together--try to make one minute of stop-motion film with your Legos, and if your sanity is still intact at the end, more power to you--that tells a sweet, funny, heartfelt story, in less than an hour and a half, with more animal characters than humans--and virtually no dialogue. Inside Out might have had a damn fine script, but as far as I'm concerned, in terms of pure visual storytelling, Shaun the Sheep takes the cake.

4. The Death of 'Superman Lives': What Happened
I'd give it: Best Documentary
Why: For my senior project, I made a documentary. It was less than five minutes long, and it took me almost an entire semester to put it together. So you can imagine how impressed I'd be with Jon Schnepp, who put together a 104-minute wonder from the ground up--and absolutely packed it with archival footage, photos, concept art, and when the story called for it, original animation. I had never seen a documentary with that much detail before, and keep in mind I've seen some pretty heavy ones. But what was impressive was that unlike, say, Blackfish, a film that purely relied on its archival footage to tell a story, Schnepp knew how to balance all that wonderful stuff he dug up on the aborted Superman Lives with interviews from the people who would have made the film happen. I have seen a lot of docs that I loved, but this is by far my favorite of the year...and quite possibly my favorite of all time.

3. Trumbo
I'd give it: Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Actor for Bryan Cranston, Best Supporting Actress for Diane Lane
Why: I fell in love with Bryan Cranston when I first started watching Breaking Bad, even as I came to hate his character over the seasons my respect for him as an actor never changed, and this film does a spectacular job of highlighting his talent. As for Diane Lane...I know, I know. Helen Mirren has already been pointed for some awards, and rightly so. But Lane and Cranston are an unstoppable pair in Trumbo, and their chemistry is one of the huge factors in why Trumbo's downward spiral after he is blacklisted is so hard to watch. That, combined with the theme of compromise woven throughout the script--Trumbo and his friends are torn between their careers and their beliefs, while Cleo has to compromise her needs to support her husband--makes Trumbo a painful and invigorating watch. This one is tied with Suffragette and Spotlight for the non-existent "Made Avery Want To Get Off Her Ass And Make A Difference In The World" award.

2. Jenny's Wedding
I'd give it: Best Director for Mary Agnes Donoghue
Why: No, the screenplay isn't spectacular, and yes, the ending is predictably happy...but let me tell you, to a girl who is just out of college and beginning to break away from her parents, man does this movie ever hit home. It's not really about Jenny's sexual preference at all; her orientation is merely a catalyst for the inevitable separation from her parents, and it's the way she learns to deal with the differences between her and her family that makes Jenny's Wedding such a valuable watch. It's hard to become your own person when you love your parents so deeply, and Donoghue does a spectacular job of conveying that through her movie. For anyone asking "But what about the other, more prominent lesbian films that came out this year:" this is the first that I have seen that was made by a woman, and it shows. Unlike Carol and Freeheld, there's nothing political about Jenny's Wedding. It's a story about a woman who learns to be herself and be with her family. Period. Nothing more, nothing less.

1. Spotlight
I'd give it: Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor for Mark Ruffalo
Why: First things first: I'd love to give Michael Keaton the Oscar he so achingly deserves (TO HECK WITH YOU, EDDIE REDMAYNE), but Ruffalo just plain kicks ass in this film. I've already listed the reasons why, so let me just say that if he isn't at least nominated, I will seriously consider protesting at the Dolby Theater. If I could give this an overall award for Best Cast, I sure as hell would. But I can't, so let's just give it Best Picture (BECAUSE IT SERIOUSLY IS THE BEST MOVIE TO COME OUT THIS YEAR!) and leave it at that, okay? And let's just hope and pray that Mad Max: Fury Road doesn't make the cut, because if it does...well...let's take that "protesting" comment and multiply it by about 10,000, that's what'll happen if Mad Max beats this film for the top award.

Avery Tries to be a Critic: 'Spotlight'

It's a well-known fact among my social circle that I am what we in the film industry call "a total, straight-up, melodramatic-as-all-get-out, undeniable Drama Queen." I don't just love something, I worship and adore it like it's my firstborn child. I don't just hate something, I despise it with every fiber of my being. Like I said in my Pixels review, I'm a fangirl. And I have never, ever made any bones about that or attempted to temper it in any way.

So when a movie with four of my favorite actors, directed by the same guy who made one of the best independent films I'd ever seen (have I mentioned that you should watch The Station Agent? because you should really watch The Station Agent) popped up in my newsfeed...well...you can imagine the ensuing freak-out.

The fact that Ian has heard me incessantly going on and on about Spotlight for the last three or so months and hasn't yet locked me in the attic is a testament to the fact that I literally have the best boyfriend ever. For real though. Every other day: "Ian, we have to see Spotlight!" "I will die if I don't get to see Spotlight." "I already missed Freeheld, I will literally kill someone if I miss Spotlight too!" "IT'S NOT FAIR. I want to see Spotlight but it's not in Michigan yet!" "I will boycott the Oscars if Spotlight doesn't get any nominations." (Yes, I said that before I even saw it.) So, obviously, I have been dying to see this movie since I found out about it in July. And let me tell you, it was so worth the wait.

On the way back from the theater, I told Ian "You're going to have to review this movie, because if I do it, I promise you I won't be able to be objective. My review's basically going to look like 'ASDFKSADFKJHAFSIDU I F-ING LOVE IT I WANT TO MARRY THIS MOVIE AND HAVE TOM MCCARTHY'S BABIES AND CUDDLE MARK RUFFALO UNTIL JUDGEMENT DAY AND IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL AND SO SAD AND SO REAL THAT I AM GOING TO CRY THESE ARE HEROES AND THE AVENGERS CAN GO TO HELL.'" And, well, here we are. I promise I'll try to be more coherent than that, but that's the gist.

I loved Spotlight. Hands-down it is the best film that I have seen all year, and trust me, that's saying something. All summer I've felt starved for independent film, and all of a sudden this past few weeks I've seen Trumbo, Suffragette and Spotlight one after the other. That's like good-movie overload. And yet still, Spotlight stands out. But why?

For starters, the casting is beyond-the-pale fantastic. We all know Michael Keaton is basically an acting god, but he shines in this film simply by...well, actually, by not being Michael Keaton. My favorite kind of performance is when an actor makes me forget that I know who they are. And for the first ten minutes of Spotlight all I could think was, "Shit, he reminds me of my dad." And he did. For two hours I forgot that I was watching my favorites, because they embodied their characters in a way that sucked me into the story and wouldn't let me go. The scene where Mike Rezendes (Ruffalo's character) breaks down and rants about how close he and his friends came to being abused by priests had me in tears--because it was real. It wasn't a Hollywood-glamorized "epiphany" starring MARK RUFFALO, it was a painful realization by a man who cared too much and didn't know how else to respond. And damn it, I could identify with that more than I initially cared to admit.

Which brings me to the treatment of the painful subject matter of the film. And this is the truly brilliant thing about Spotlight: for a movie that's ostensibly about priests abusing children, we see very few children, even fewer priests, and absolutely no abuse. Think about that for a minute. How much buzz and controversy could they have stirred up by making a film that depicted small children being molested by trusted clergy? "SHOCKING! PROVOCATIVE! GROUNDBREAKING! HEARTBREAKING! OSCAR MATERIAL!" the headlines would have screamed. But McCarthy resisted that temptation and instead made a movie that was not about the abuse itself, but what the reporters had to go through to bring that abuse to light.

By making the film more about the team than about the scandal, McCarthy ensured that Spotlight would not become a sensationalistic piece of "Oscar-bait" that existed purely to make people feel bad about their non-tragic lives. On paper it sounds so oddly flat: "it's a movie about people writing a news article." But the emotions burst off the screen and bring the story to life. There's nothing dry or boring about the frustration, shock, pain, anger, desperation and, finally, exhilaration that the team experiences as they force to the surface a story that so many wanted to remain buried. Now, as I said, this is in part due to the brilliant performances, but the rest of it is in the writing and direction.

The scenes in which the team speaks to abuse survivors are particularly strong. Again, these could have been over-the-top, exploitative sequences that were specifically engineered to make the audience squirm. Instead, we are forced to confront the painful reality that unlike, say, Von Trier's Antichrist--a film so gratuitously violent and sexually explicit that even my film school teachers shied away from playing it for us--this stuff actually happened to people. Do you know someone who's mutilated their own genitals after being confronted by a self-disemboweling fox? I sure don't. But I know people who have been betrayed and sexually abused by people they trusted, and that, to me, is far more terrifying than anything Von Trier could have dreamed up.

There's a scene towards the end of the film wherein Robby (Keaton) walks into his little office and hears phones ringing off the hook as survivors from all over Boston call in to talk about their experiences with the priests. It takes him a minute to comprehend what is happening, the effect his team's work has had, the backlash they might face, the exact size of the can of worms he's just opened--and all the good that might just come of it. There's no dialogue. The look on his face says it all. No, a news story can't undo the damage that the degenerate clergy has done. But the work he's done with his team can lead to a better future, and that, to him, is what really matters.

And that, to me, is the meaning behind Spotlight. That was why I told Ian, as we left the theater, "They are heroes." They are--I wasn't kidding when I compared them to the Avengers--but it's not because they won the Pulitzer Prize or blew the lid off of a disgusting conspiracy that never should have existed. It's because they knew something was wrong and they put every effort into making it right in the best way they knew how. Those are the kind of characters I can root for. That's the kind of story that I like to see.

That's the kind of movie that someday, I really, really want to make.