Austin Butler
Age: 31
Film: Elvis
Role: Elvis Presley, the young entertainer who makes people feel things they’re not sure they should enjoy and sings things that are too dangerous to say.
Nomination History:
This is Butler’s first nomination. (Everyone in this category is a first time nominee.)
Why He Should Win
I just re-watched Elvis so my daughter and husband could see it, and I liked Butler’s performance more this time. My daughter, though, reacted the way I did initially, finding the Colonel Tom Parker character by far the more interesting of the two. (I know Tom Hanks got Razzie nominations, but the character is so captivating. He seems so villainous (almost cartoonishly so). And he’s a ridiculously unreliable narrator. But that unexpected angle is what makes the movie so captivating. Besides offering great songs and flashy costumes, the film deconstructs the story told by the man who built the Elvis legend. Plus, Elvis understands his career differently from Parker. The Colonel sees him as conning an audience. Elvis thinks he’s connecting with them. In one of the last monologues, when Colonel Parker is indulging in some of his most audacious blame-shifting, he all but asks, “Why do you fans have to encourage Elvis to indulge in his human emotions?”) (I still think that’s a good performance by Tom Hanks, though I don’t see how he’d be fooling many people about his origins with that accent.)
But as I think about it, one difficult element of Butler’s performance is that he must make us understand that the Colonel’s narration is unreliable. Throughout the film, the Colonel tells us time and again what Elvis is all about. Butler has to show us what Elvis is actually all about. (Now granted, Hanks and the movie’s visuals give us abundant clues that we shouldn’t take Colonel Parker’s narrative at face value.)
But Butler doesn’t get to narrate. He gets to sing. (What we hear is not always his voice. Sometimes we hear Elvis’s voice instead or a blend. Still Butler performs every song.) This is probably why all my favorite moments in Butler’s performance involve his acts on stage.
He’s extremely charismatic during Elvis’s rebellious performance of “Trouble,” and he’s so powerful when he’s singing “If I Can Dream” at the end of his “Christmas Special.” (Notably, by singing a protest song just after Bobby Kennedy is shot, he’s actually exhibiting the trait the Colonel calls out at the beginning of the movie, giving audiences “feelings they weren’t sure they should enjoy.” Nobody’s throwing underwear this time. These are different feelings, different discomfort.) At this point, Butler’s performance takes off. His acts on stage become increasingly powerful. (This is also the point at which Elvis’s actual voice is used, blended with Butler’s. The early songs are all Butler. But that’s probably not why the songs become more stirring here.)
We’ve all heard by now that Butler can’t stop speaking in his Elvis accent (unless he’s filming a Dune sequel). He does sound like Elvis, but the real power of his star turn here lies in his energy while performing the songs. (Notably, when he decides to break with the Colonel, to call him out on his abuse, he does so on stage in front of the audience because he’s learned by now that this is where he has the most power, the most influential voice. Butler’s good in this scene, too. We feel Elvis’s frustration and his pain.)
Why He Might Not Win
I can imagine Austin Butler winning. I appreciated his performance more the second time I saw it, and musical biopics often win people Oscars. The tragic death of Lisa Marie Presley on January 12—right after everyone (watching) saw her at the Golden Globes may help Butler’s chances, too. (It’s ghoulish to speculate about such things. I feel bad even mentioning it, but if I were an Oscar voter, it might make me more inclined to vote for Butler. I’m not sure.)
He did win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama. But Colin Farrell won the Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy. And Brendan Fraser may have been the big winner that night for boycotting the Golden Globes. (How relevant are the Golden Globes these days? What I remember most about this year’s ceremony is that Priscilla and Lisa Marie Presley were there, and then two days later, Lisa Marie suddenly died.) (I’m not trying to insult the Golden Globes. I just have no idea if they’ll recover the relevance they used to have. I honestly don’t know.)
Brendan Fraser won Best Actor at the Critics Choice Awards. (Does that matter?) (What I remember about the Critics Choice Awards is that I couldn’t stream them on YouTube or any platform and had to watch them the next day.)
Butler could win. His movie is easy to watch, and he really delivers in his performances of those easy-on-the-ears Elvis songs. But I’m not sure that his non-musical moments have the power of some of his competitors’ performances. He has serious competition from both Farrell and Fraser who get to deliver some fantastic lines in gripping dramatic scenes (despite the fact that Banshees is a comedy). And then Bill Nighy and Paul Mescal don’t need glitzy costumes and make-up or grandstanding monologues to convey the heart of their characters. (I would expect these quieter performances to be at a disadvantage with voters, but you never know.)
Colin Farrell
Age: 46
Film: The Banshees of Inisherin
Role: Pádraic Súilleabháin who just wants to go down to the pub and get a pint with his friend Colm—until the moment Colm pushes him too far.
Nomination History:
This is Farrell’s first nomination.
Why He Should Win
I don’t know why I keep saying The Banshees of Inisherin is my fifth favorite movie of 2022. Clearly, it belongs higher on my list than that. I’ve re-watched parts of it so many times trying to put my finger on why specifically I like the four nominated performances. I’m in awe of the film as a whole and wish I could write like Martin McDonagh, but I find discussing how the story is working easier than dissecting what the actors are doing.
Colin Farrell plays such a sympathetic character. All Pádraic wants it to spend a bit of time every day chatting with his friend, as they’ve been doing for years. He’s so bewildered by Colm’s abrupt (and inexplicable) (or, at least, inadequately explained) exit from his life.
Of course, I love the performance! I’ve always been a fan of Colin Farrell, so I’m prejudiced in his favor already. And within this story, it’s hard to imagine anyone quicker to win the audience’s sympathy than Pádraic.
What happens to him is awful. I’m so drawn to his inability to stay away from Colm, too. This reminds me of a quality I’ve always liked in Farrell, even when he’s not acting. In my early twenties, I saw him give a TV interview where he could not stop using profanity. Even when corrected, he’d switch to another curse word. I remember him saying incredulously, “You can’t say that on TV here either?” He didn’t come across as someone doing it on purpose to shock audiences. He just couldn’t stop swearing without thinking. I found that immeasurably delightful (especially because the idea of “bad words” is kind of ridiculous and rules of decorum sometimes make no sense).
Farrell brings this exact quality to Pádraic, and it works so well. Characters keep telling him to stay away from Colm, and his response is always the equivalent of, “Okay! I will stay away from Colm. First though, I’m just going to run over real quick and talk to Colm.” He just can’t help himself, and the idea that he suddenly shouldn’t do what he has always done baffles him. It just won’t sink in that this prohibition should be correct. He’ll agree and nod along, but deep in his soul, he never means it. Until a rather dramatic turn late in the story, there is no point at which Pádraic ever even considers that the not talking to Colm thing will last permanently.
I relate to him so much (funny because I also relate to Colm. I watch this movie and think, “I relate to Colm. I relate to Pádraic. I relate to Dominic. Siobhán is cooler than I will ever be. I wish spooky old women strolled around in the evening making eerie premonitions in my neighborhood!”)
In theory, if Colm says to leave him alone, Pádraic should do it. But it’s hard not to see Pádraic’s side. Why can’t he talk to Colm? He could talk to Colm yesterday. On Pádraic’s end, nothing has changed. This kind of thing used to happen to me all the time. I’d think a relationship was going fine and not realize anything was wrong until someone abruptly said, “Actually everything you do is wrong. The end.” Pádraic’s blindsided confusion is so relatable, and Farrell conveys this so naturally. His eyes telegraph his confusion and frustration, even though the character’s making a point (most of the time) of trying not to show how upset he is.
Pádraic’s initial desire is to make amends, which surely is relatable to most people. You realize you’ve done something wrong unintentionally, and you never want to do that thing again. But Colm won’t tell him what he did wrong. In fact, he tells him he hasn’t done anything wrong. He just is wrong! (How is he supposed to fix that?) (It’s like trying to resolve a conflict with someone who has died.) I can relate to this so strongly. Surely most people can.
Much of Farrell’s performance is in his facial reactions to this increasingly frustrating situation in which he can’t possibly win. (Everybody seems to imply the one thing he has going for him is being nice. Then the next thing he knows, he’s told he isn’t nice anymore.) He does a fantastic job of coaxing out every bit of humor in this bleak situation, yet the end of his drunken rant to Colm in the pub is pretty heartbreaking.
Why He Might Not Win
I want him to win. Initially, I thought I didn’t have a strong preference in this category, but I do. I want Colin Farrell to win. (I would be happy to see Bill Nighy win, too. His performance was beautiful, but nobody seems to think he has a chance.) I think Farrell has a fighting chance. Like I said, he won the Golden Globe. And this is the one acting category where Everything Everywhere All at Once doesn’t have a nominee (though that’s a point in everyone’s favor, I guess).
“What about Brendan Fraser?” my husband asked when I declared my preference for Farrell out loud.
I would be happy to see him win, too. My mom loved Brendan Fraser back in his Mummy days. (She was surprisingly fond of the movie Blast from the Past.) I like the sentimental, sweet nature of Fraser’s feel good, comeback narrative. And he’s always been a good actor who didn’t get much acknowledgement because he made fun, silly popcorn flicks. But if you’re asking which nominated performance I liked best, it’s Colin Farrell’s (in no small part because it’s the film I liked best). (I also really love Bill Nighy’s performance. They’re definitely my top two.) At this early stage, I’d say Farrell, Fraser and Butler all have a chance to win. They’re all nominated at the SAGs (February 26) and the BAFTAs (February 19), so maybe the results of those ceremonies will give us a clue.
Brendan Fraser
Age: 54 years
Film: The Whale
Role: Charlie, the online English professor who longs to reconnect with his estranged daughter now that he’s discovered his response to profound grief and depression has led him to congestive heart failure that will kill him within days (especially because he refuses to go to the hospital).
Nomination History:
This is Fraser’s first nomination.
Why He Should Win
Fraser has a compelling narrative, and he’s a likeable person. (I’ve never met him. He comes across as nice, though, maybe even nicer than Pádraic.) He has the strongest narrative in the category (Oscar narrative, I mean, not the plot of his film).
His performance is also excellent, even though I find the character so frustrating. Honestly, I relate to him just as much as I relate to Pádraic and Colm, so it’s not a matter of Charlie being unrealistic or unsympathetic. He has my sympathy and my empathy. I’m so familiar with that frame of mind. Part of it is the intense guilt and frustration over not being the kind of parent you know your kid deserves. I relate to that. Charlie has all these mental roadblocks. He’s unable to move past them. He wants to, but he can’t. Sometimes you can’t. It’s easy to look at people from the outside and say, “Yes, you feel guilty. Yes, you’re depressed. But you just have to get some perspective.” But if you’re depressed and drowning in guilt, you lose perspective. That’s the thing. And once you weigh six-hundred-pounds, it’s not like eating healthy and exercising for a month will get you down to a healthy weight. Sometimes you do that, and nothing changes. A few years ago, my husband increased his exercise regimen dramatically and gained weight. Recently, he’s lost over eighty pounds. (Since I keep hearing celebrities joking about Ozempic, I’ll note that he did it entirely through caloric reduction. His doctor was impressed and asked if he had a specific reason for wanting to lose the weight. He said, “Yes, I want to remain alive.”)
I find Charlie frustrating because his reasoning reminds me of me when I get trapped ruminating in negative loops and can’t find my way out. He’s so melodramatic. He lives his life like he’s the main character in a play, and he’s waiting for the big discovery scene, so others will understand his suffering and the meaning of his sacrifices and have this rush of revelation. And then he gets that at the end…because he’s giving it to himself, essentially. I just want to shake him and yell, “Couldn’t you have given yourself that a little sooner? Your daughter still needs you. She doesn’t need money. She needs you.”
My level of frustration and outrage watching him speaks to the excellence of his performance because if Fraser were giving a mediocre performance, the character wouldn’t seem real, and I wouldn’t connect, and I wouldn’t care. I mean, it is horrible that some misguided person tells him that God will love him if he stops being gay, and that the love of his life killed himself because he repented of loving him. That’s awful. But consider the source. Who cares if that person finds him viscerally disgusting? That character has so many issues that I’m sure he’s secretly the protagonist of some other play.
The person who really finds him viscerally disgusting is Charlie himself. That’s his problem. Perhaps he made some wrong choices. Many things that happened to him were out of his control. But what happened to him made him feel disgusting. And so he’s taken pains to make himself as disgusting on the outside as he feels on the inside. It’s tragic that he hasn’t gotten psychiatric help long before now.
I get mad at Charlie because I see things in him that I see in myself. For that reason, I consider Fraser’s performance Oscar worthy. He gives us a clear idea of who Charlie is and why and how he’s suffering. Even though I’ve always liked Brendan Fraser, I never expected a performance this emotionally intense from the star of The Mummy.
Why He Might Not Win
The film is a little divisive, largely because the protagonist is so incredibly frustrating, and many of the characters have a dark bent. That’s not a problem for me, but it might hurt Fraser’s chances.
Some elements are polarizing, too. In fact, being polarizing is one of the elements I mean, the false dichotomy the film draws between faith and sexuality (both aspects of the human person). This is tricky because Liz’s brother’s story is in no way fantastical. Anyone who tells you that misguided Christian institutions have not driven gay people to suicide is either lying or misinformed. And stories like that should be told. But this story gives us this one off-the-rails, unstable runaway with little life experience pushing Christianity (way too hard), and then Liz who was been deeply, personally harmed by her own parents and their church pushing back. It raises deep philosophical questions, but some viewers might find the characters’ way of engaging with these issues unhelpfully reductive and abrasive. (I get frustrated because I keep relating to Charlie, then thinking, “Yes, parents can be unfair, but you have to be the parent to your daughter now. You need to show up for her.”)
The Whale is adapted from a stage play and still very stagey. It’s all in one room. Some people find that off-putting, though I don’t.
I’ve also heard the suggestion that the movie enjoys making a spectacle of Charlie. And there’s controversy about Fraser wearing a fat suit. That doesn’t seem problematic to me, either. I’ll admit, fat suits have been used in problematic ways in film and television. A lot. But Charlie weighs six-hundred pounds. Asking Fraser to gain that much weight would be unhealthy and probably impossible. Even Christian Bale wouldn’t go that far these days. You could find an actor who already weighs six-hundred pounds, but then the character has to die of congestive heart failure and be told he’s disgusting over and over again for two hours. How demoralizing for the actor! (What if the actor dies from the physical strain of making the movie?) (I’ll bet finding a six-hundred-pound actor capable of playing the role isn’t as impossible as Darren Aronofsky has suggested, though, but I’ll forgive him for wanting Brendan Fraser. If he made a film like this and cast an unknown six-hundred-pound lead, wouldn’t there be a danger audiences might see it as a gimmick (unsavory as that idea is)?
Surely wearing a three-hundred-pound fat suit gives this performance a higher degree of difficulty, like any other physical stunt. Fraser is wearing it to get in the headspace of the character, and he has to carry it around, feeling the weight of supporting it, which surely would only make his portrayal of Charlie more empathetic and realistic.
I will admit I probably don’t feel strongly enough about fat suits. I don’t usually watch a movie and think, “Oh that person is fat like me!” (I did in this case because it was a major theme of the movie—although I do not weigh 600 pounds. In fact, the doctor told me today that I lost twelve pounds.) Usually, I relate to characters based more on their personality. When I saw Shallow Hal in the theater, I noticed my friends were concerned afterwards that it might have offended me. My dress size doubling in six months after starting a certain medication offended me, but I couldn’t pin that on Gwyneth Paltrow. It hadn’t occurred to me while watching that I specifically should be offended. So admittedly, maybe I’m not the best barometer for these kinds of things. Sometimes movies take me out of myself. I forget I’m there. You know what? I’m not the person to consult about whether fat suits are offensive. My husband and I liked that campy Netflix show with Debby Ryan that got so much backlash. The truth is, anything that makes me laugh, I like. So maybe I’m too forgiving. If you are offended by the fat suit, I have no quarrel with you. Perhaps I don’t get offended often enough.
At any rate, surely the fat suit is not going to keep Brendan Fraser from winning this Oscar. If he doesn’t win, we can assume voters felt more enthusiastic about Austin Butler or Colin Farrell. (So far, it seems like everyone in the world is predicting one of the three of them.)
Paul Mescal
Age: 27 years
Film: Aftersun
Role: Calum, a young father on vacation with his eleven-year-old daughter, Sophie. He loves his daughter but sometimes struggles to love himself.
Nomination History:
This is Mescal’s first nomination.
Why He Should Win
Paul Mescal plays such a sweet father in this film. I heard him say in an interview that he took the child actress who plays his daughter Sophie (Frankie Corrio) on an actual vacation to prepare for the role, and that shows in their performances. They have what looks like effortless chemistry on screen. The father/daughter relationship looks so authentic. I loved the warmth and natural conversation of their scenes together. Calum’s gentle parenting style reminds me of my husband. (He never has to discipline anyone. If he seems sad or disappointed, the kids punish themselves. If he raises his voice one decibel, they’re so sorry to have distressed him; whereas, no degree of erratic behavior from me makes them so much as bat an eyelash. They’re just like, “Mom, you’re so funny!” which is comforting in its own way.)
There’s one scene in which Sophie is lying down talking to him, and he’s sitting beside her occasionally gently touching her face. I remember thinking as I watched, Played the wrong way, this moment could come across as incredibly creepy. But Mescal makes it sweet and tender, a nurturing father showing affection to his loving child. You have to build to that level of intimacy, though. By that point in the film, Mescal has shown us so clearly what a devoted, gentle, caring father Calum is. The bond he and Sophie share comes across unmistakably on screen, a credit to the talents of both actors.
Mescal also shows us Calum’s melancholy side, which seems terribly realistic, too. (I relate to the character here, this sense of, “I will be 100 percent there for you, unless I’m zero percent there at all.” It’s hard not to worry that one moment like the night of the karaoke contest will undo all the good that’s come before.) Mescal manages to give hints of a certain wistful melancholy even during his happy moments with Sophie. As the film progresses, we see his troubled side more and more.
Compared to Butler, Farrell, and Fraser, Mescal is very understated, subtle. (Bill Nighy’s performance is similarly understated, but perhaps less natural.) Mescal doesn’t deliver any blustering monologues. In my favorite scene in Aftersun, he recounts an uncomfortable memory from his past while we see his reflection in the screen of a television that’s turned off. This is one of the few moments when he speaks at length about something painful, but it’s done in such a quiet, nonchalant way.
In Aftersun, Sophie is reflecting back on this vacation with her father, intently focused on examining his behavior, searching for any clue that will bring greater enlightenment about him. So we don’t have to see him do anything enormously theatrical. She’s looking at the quiet, ordinary moments, re-examining them from an adult’s point of view, seeking what she’s missed. That’s why most moments in the film are fairly quiet, almost ordinary. But taken cumulatively Mescal’s quiet, ordinary moments build into a poignant, powerful performance.
Why He Might Not Win
I’m a bit surprised Mescal got a nomination—certainly not because he doesn’t deserve one but because the performance is such an outlier. Butler and Farrell are starring in Best Picture nominees. Fraser has been winning awards all over the place. Bill Nighy is a veteran actor who’s appeared in several enduringly popular movies and is now starring in a film written by (a nominated) writer who also wrote The Remains of the Day, a previous nominee for Best Picture. Mescal’s performance feels so quiet compared to these others. Maybe part of the problem is that I’m the wrong age, and I don’t watch a lot of TV. I haven’t seen Normal People. I do remember Mescal from The Lost Daughter, but I spent most of his scenes asking myself, “Olivia Colman, what are you doing?”
Mescal’s quite charming, though. He almost convinced me to buy some aftershave. I told my husband, “It smelled so good on Paul Mescal.” Then I realized I couldn’t have smelled it and had to admit, “Well he looked like he was enjoying the scent when he smelled it.” I’ve watched tons of interviews and publicity spots featuring Mescal because initially I was so confused about his nationality. I thought he was Irish. But then in the film he sounded Scottish…and his name was Calum…and they were talking about Edinburgh. (It was almost like he was acting!) Then I wasn’t sure if the actor was Scottish or Irish. (Keep in mind, I recently thought Lydia Tár was real, and I once said Chaka Khan was a Zulu leader, so perhaps I’m easily confused.) (I’m not the only one, though. I also saw some random headline about people being mad a BBC outlet called Mescal British, and in the comments, multiple people ranted that all Irish people are British!) The actor is Irish. The character is Scottish. The movie takes place in Turkey. (Shaka is the Zulu leader. Lydia Tár is a fictional character.)
Whether he’s Irish or Scottish has no bearing on whether Mescal wins the Oscar, of course. But I would be surprised to see someone who’s a young, rising star (rather than an established household name) win Best Actor for a film that is not that widely known. Aftersun is the kind of film you watch because you’re looking for it. Maybe you go to film festivals. You follow the careers of rising stars. You’re into the Oscars. You’re obsessed with Paul Mescal. You’ve got your eye on Charlotte Wells because you liked one of her short films. You’re not just strolling up to the local multiplex or idly browsing Netflix and then deciding on Aftersun. It seems a lot easier to expend little effort and wind up watching Elvis. I know Oscar voters get screeners, but Aftersun might not excite everyone. It’s not a big, loud exciting film.
I think there’s too much competition from established, well known actors in big, loud movies. I would be stunned if Paul Mescal wins. He might have sold me a bottle of aftershave, though (unless it turns out to be so expensive only Oscar nominees can wear it).
(I really did see him gamely displaying some aftershave. I’m in no way trying to say, “He’s not really an actor. He’s a two-bit aftershave model like you’d find lurking in any common barber shop.” I enjoyed his performance. I just doubt he’ll win.)
Bill Nighy
Age: 73
Film: Living
Role: Mr. Williams, a lifelong civil servant suddenly facing a terminal diagnosis. With little time left, Williams realizes he needs to live every moment to its fullest. But he’s not sure he knows how.
Nomination History:
This is Nighy’s first nomination.
Why He Should Win
If my husband has some hidden pull within the Academy that he’s played close to the chest all these years, then Bill Nighy will win Best Actor. He left the theater raving about his performance, and I don’t blame him. Living is such a beautiful film.
“He conveyed so much emotion without words,” my husband explained. “You could tell he was trying to find the right words, but they just weren’t coming. He was scared and didn’t know how to tell anyone.”
That is a hallmark of Nighy’s performance as Mr. Williams that I hadn’t particularly considered until my husband mentioned it. I tended to notice the rare moments when he was able to force out his thoughts and feelings. When he finally manages to sing in the pub, the results are so stirring, and Nighy has a powerful, emotive voice. But there are so many times when he says little or nothing. As my husband pointed out, he doesn’t sit motionless in his silences. So often, he attempts to speak. He gets as far as opening his mouth and moving it as if trying to give utterance to sounds.
One particularly effective thing about Living is that Mr. Williams does not have to tell us what’s going on. We know. The doctor tells us. So every time he encounters another character and attempts to tell them, there’s this intense, anticipatory eagerness on the part of the audience. There’s an element of dramatic irony each time a new character almost knows that Mr. Williams is dying but doesn’t quite know yet. We get the opportunity to think, “If only they knew…” or “When they find out…”
This is nice because we (the audience) can play that game regarding Mr. Williams, but, in fact, every human is walking around with inner burdens that no one else knows. And as soon as Mr. Williams is able to open up to someone about what is weighing on his mind—which Nighy does in a lovely, quietly impassioned conversation late in the film—he’s able to hear the words himself. The doctor tells him the prognosis. But only Mr. Williams himself knows what the prognosis means to him, what bothers him, what he wants, what he can do. He’s able to think about other people’s needs once he’s finally able to articulate his own.
Nighy’s performance is so moving. I found myself tearing up through the entire film.
Why He Might Not Win
If Bill Nighy wins Best Actor, I would be thrilled. I would be so overjoyed. Like Mescal, though, he’s in a fairly quiet film. And he’s not doing anything flashy. It’s a different kind of performance than we see in Elvis or even in The Whale (where Brendan Fraser’s character is also facing death, but in a much less restrained way).
Despite my husband’s enthusiastic support, I don’t see how Nighy will win Best Actor. I haven’t heard any enormous, awful scandals about him or the film, which makes me think he has no chance of winning. If he pulls off a surprise victory, though, I’ll be quite happy for him.