Review of Oscar Nominees 2020: Best Picture, Part II

Oscars

Little Women


Nominated Producers: Amy Pascal
Director: Greta Gerwig
Writer: Greta Gerwig

Cast: Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Eliza Scanlen, Timothée Chalamet, Laura Dern, Tracy Letts, Bob Odenkirk, James Norton, Louis Garrel, Jayne Houdyshell, Chris Cooper, Meryl Streep, and others.

Plot:

The four March sisters have grown up into no-longer-little women. Meg is now Mrs. John Brooke, living in her own home and raising two children on a shoestring budget. Jo is in New York, pushing hard to forge a career as an author. Amy is in Europe with Aunt March, studying art, chastising Laurie, and hoping to marry the wealthy Fred Vaughn. And Beth is at home with her parents, quietly dying. But all four sisters carry the magic of their shared childhood with them always.

Why It Should Win:
I think Greta Gerwig hit the jackpot. Now that everyone is up in arms about her best director snub, she’s poised to win Best Adapted Screenplay, giving her one more Oscar than her current total of zero. If I were Greta Gerwig, I would be thrilled about this situation. If you ask me, an Oscar in hand beats two nominations for directing. Yes, I know she would have made Oscar history by being the only woman with two Best Director nominations. But you know what’s better than making Oscar history? Winning an Oscar. I, personally, would rather be a winner than a factoid. And outrage over her “snub,” should guarantee her the screenplay win. (I don’t have a crystal ball, but I’ll be shocked if she doesn’t win Adapted Screenplay.)

This is nice for the rest of us, too, because Gerwig more than deserves that screenplay win. Her adaptation is thoughtful, novel, beautiful. She clearly understands and values the source material, and she has managed to present Louisa May Alcott’s classic (and arguably too often dramatized) story in a completely new way that feels fresh and timely, yet faithful to the book.

In fact, Gerwig’s version is so different from previous screen adaptations that I needed two viewings to digest it. These days, because I always look for new movies to review, I never pay to see the same film more than once at the theater. But I went back to Little Women because I had conflicting feelings about it. Honestly, though I loved the cast and admired several of Gerwig’s bolder choices, I wasn’t sure I liked the movie much the first time. Then I saw it a second time and realized I needed to make space (yet again) on my personal top ten list. (I amuse myself, going from, “I’m not sure about this,” all the way to, “I love it!!!” But I do love Gerwig’s version, and it took two viewings for me to realize that.)

Instead of beginning with the March sisters’ childhood and moving forward, Gerwig starts near the end and gives us a non-linear story that jumps freely back and forth through time. This allows her to organize the material not chronologically but thematically, which gives certain sequences astonishing emotional resonance. (For example, we get to see Jo sitting by Beth’s sick bed past and present. On both occasions, she wakes up and finds her sister’s bed empty, then heads down the stairs toward very different scenes unfolding in the kitchen. In another beautiful sequence, we see Mr. Laurence listening to Beth at the piano and realize how tragedy has visited his life and will visit it again. Poor man!)

Another advantage of beginning at the end is that adulthood is, in fact, the end of childhood. Often this portion of the story is rushed, but Gerwig privileges the women the girls will become. She shows us where their paths have led them, who they are as adults. And then she allows us to see them growing toward their destinies. This method of storytelling is particularly flattering to Amy, who in most versions is put at a disadvantage because we meet her when she is such an immature child. Gerwig’s Amy arrives on the scene just as much an adult as her older sisters, so we judge her by the woman she is, and then slowly discover the child she was.

Telling the story this way really does shake up the traditional rhythm of Little Women. Events that are huge surprises in most versions are not surprises at all here. Instead, Gerwig surprises us with a twist ending that deviates from the book but honors the author.

And Gerwig is not the only one doing excellent work. The entire cast is amazing. Saoirse Ronan is a perfect Jo, and Florence Pugh makes such an impression as Amy that the film sometimes seems like an Amy-based spin-off of the original. Timothée Chalamet and Chris Cooper are also wonderful, and in a weaker year, they might have been nominated, too. Emma Watson is good, and so is Eliza Scanlen, though Beth is a fairly muted presence. I like Laura Dern better as Marmee than in Marriage Story. And Meryl Streep’s name is itself high praise of her performance.

The film has other strengths, too. The nominated score by Alexndre Desplat is one of my favorite of the year, and I also love the cinematography. Even the costuming is excellent and thoughtful. (Jo and Laurie often wear outfits made of the same swapped garments.)

Little Women is definitely one of the best movies of 2019 and probably the only Best Picture nominee this year with an unequivocally happy ending. (I keep track of these things because sad endings depress my mother.)  Gerwig is an excellent director and a brilliant, soon-to-be Oscar-winning writer. I can feel it.

Why It Shouldn’t Win:
When the cast is so perfect, it is initially frustrating to get fragmented performances caused by the time jumps. On a first watch, I could not help but yearn to see this excellent cast play their characters from beginning to end, uninterrupted.  (I must add, though, that this dissatisfaction lessened considerably when I viewed the movie a second time, already knowing what to expect.)

I’m also of two minds about Amy. I don’t mind Pugh’s Best Supporting Actress nomination. (I would even be okay with a win for her.  She’s had a wonderful year.) But she does not make a very convincing little girl. On the bright side, they don’t digitally alter her face and give her eyes the Frank Herbert treatment. But she’s simply not convincing as a child. Still, she’s a scene-stealer, and even when I didn’t exactly believe her, I loved watching her.

Overall, the strengths of Gerwig’s film far outweigh its weaknesses. And I’m not the only one who likes it.  Lots of people actually paid to see the movie in the theater, and most audiences have responded well.  Still I can’t believe that it will actually win Best Picture, even calculating in any benefit from the outrage over the Best Director snub.

Honestly, I get a bit annoyed when people say, “Little Women didn’t direct itself.” Yes, that is true. But Marriage Story, Ford v Ferari, and Jojo Rabbit didn’t direct themselves either. This year there are nine Best Picture nominees and just five slots for Best Director. Not every director of a Best Picture nominee can get a nomination for directing. Does this make sense? No. Films don’t direct themselves. But common sense and fairness are not the Oscars’ strong suits.

Also, I hate to be the one to break the bad news, but I highly doubt Gerwig was the Directors Branch’s sixth choice. Remember, the Director’s Guild nominated Taika Waititi. And what about James Mangold?

At least Gerwig does not have to compete against her partner Noah Baumbach for Best Director. Maybe it’s a blessing that neither is up for that honor. Instead of getting stressed by competing against each other, they can enjoy their new baby and root for each other to win Original and Adapted Screenplay.  Collectively, they could walk away with two Oscars.

Marriage Story

Nominated Producers: Noah Baumbach and David Heyman
Director: Noah Baumbach
Writer: Noah Baumbach

Cast: Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson, Laura Dern, Alan Alda, Julie Hagerty, Merrit Wever, Ray Liotta, Wallace Shawn, Martha Kelly, Azhy Robertson, and others.

Plot:
Charlie (a New York based playwright and director) and Nicole (his star actress and muse) are husband and wife and long-term creative collaborators who have also co-created a son, Henry. But their marriage isn’t working, and Nicole wants a divorce. She moves to LA to star in a TV show, and she hopes to stay there, to raise Henry near her family. When Nicole hires shark divorce lawyer Nora Fanshaw to make sure she gets what she wants, Charlie feels blindsided, and things gradually get uglier and uglier.

Why It Should Win:
Marriage Story contains some of the year’s best acting. Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson, and Laura Dern are all nominated for their outstanding performances, and Dern will more than likely win Best Supporting Actress.  In fact, every supporting performance is so charming that I’m almost stunned the film didn’t snag a SAG nomination for ensemble cast.

“Snubbed” for Best Director just like his partner Greta Gerwig, Noah Baumbach clearly knows how to coax the best performances from his cast.  But perhaps his skill as a director is eclipsed by the quality of his written dialogue which manages to be poetic, euphonic, sometimes even funny, without sacrificing rawness and realism.  The stars of the film have explained in interviews that no ad-libbing of dialogue occurred.  Baumbach wrote beautiful words and expected line readings to be letter perfect.  But the director himself has explained that he believes memorizing and sticking to the script opens the scene up in a different way, giving the actors the security to explore their delivery and the dynamics of each scene freely.  This kind of emotional exploration makes every interaction feel fresh and unstaged.  Despite its stage-play-like dialogue, Marriage Story feels very real.  (To be honest, if you’ve recently divorced, or you’re working through the aftermath of an infidelity, you might want to skip it.)

Noah Baumbach clearly has a creative fascination with the dynamics of divorce. The Squid and the Whale was inspired by his parents’ divorce, and Marriage Story is informed by his own divorce from actress Jennifer Jason Leigh.  It’s not a point-by-point retelling.  Baumbach simply drew on his experiences.  Scarlett Johansson mentioned that she became involved early in the process, so the script may also reflect some of her experiences and emotions.  (Remember that she shares a daughter with an ex-husband from France.  Working out custody must have been tricky.)  But it is worth noting that many scenes with Nora Fanshaw were filmed in the offices of Laura Wasser, the actual attorney who represented Jennifer Jason Leigh in her divorce from Baumbach (and Johansson in her divorce from Romain Dauriac, and Ryan Reynolds in his divorce from Scarlett Johansson, and Laura Dern in her divorce).  For what it’s worth, Wasser (who most guess is the inspiration for the Fanshaw character) says that Marriage Story is her new favorite film about divorce.  
The film certainly focuses on material relevant to today’s audiences (particularly those in the entertainment industry who split time between New York and LA).  I’m not divorced (though my husband, father, and sister are), but I did enjoy the film’s unspoken rebuttal to a common assumption made about divorce by people who stay together.  You hear the sentiment everywhere. “We didn’t want to divorce, so we chose to stay and work through our difficulties,” implying that divorce happens because people don’t want to make an effort.  But Noah Baumbach makes divorce look like quite a bit of work!  Maybe sticking together is taking the easy way out!  For the record, I’m a big believer in marriage and happy in mine.  But sometimes things don’t work out.  That’s just reality.  Plus, it takes two people to make a marriage last and just one to end it.
Most of the conflict in this film arises from the fact that Nicole is ready for the marriage to end, and Charlie is slow to accept this.  He’s initially unwilling to divorce his wife and lose their domestic life with their son.  (Of course, he was perfectly willing to cheat on her even during marriage counseling, but he seems quite stunned to discover she thought their marriage counseling wasn’t going well.)
For me, the highlight of the film is Adam Driver’s performance, particularly the intensity of his last heated argument with Scarlett Johansson’s Nicole, his almost-ex wife.   Joaquin Phoenix as Joker did not disturb me.  Kylo Ren Darksiding around in torment did not disturb me.  Devoted father and charming son-in-law Charlie raving about fantasies of his wife’s death disturbed me.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen such intensity on screen. Both scene partners are excellent, emoting up a storm, but Charlie suddenly veers into alarming territory. You wince and think, “Ooh! Too far!” And then he just keeps going. Driver conjures such authentic (and alarming) intensity that we fully believe him, understand his panicked distress at the pitch of his own vehemence, and even (weirdly) kind of get it when the next moment Nicole is the one comforting him.

Losing control like that is so frightening, not only to the person receiving the rage, but often to the person lashing out as well. I love this scene because the second act of the movie spends so long engendering sympathy for Charlie and distancing us from Nicole (who can come off as selfish or unreasonable). A display like this is a good hint that perhaps there is a reason Nicole wants that divorce. It also shows how the stresses of navigating a “conscious uncoupling” and fighting over something as close to the heart as custody can bring out the absolute worst in otherwise “good” people.  
And then, of course, just a few minutes later, Driver compellingly performs an entire Stephen Sondheim song.  If I were voting, he’d be my pick for Best Actor.

Why It Shouldn’t Win:

Marriage Story is depressing.  This movie may evoke unwanted feelings of wretchedness if you’ve ever gone through a bad relationship (or a bad patch in an otherwise good relationship) or been cheated on or been left against your will or lost custody of your child or wished you could sing as well as Adam Driver.
I also had a problem with the experience of the movie.  Early on, Scarlett Johnasson’s Nicole seems so sympathetic, but then her character all but disappears, and she (along with her perspective, needs, and desires) seems almost vilified as the story becomes all about Adam Driver’s (extremely sympathetic) wounded, blindsided character, a man who doesn’t want to lose his family, a father who loves his son.
Charlie makes me frustrated because he is so sympathetic.  He claims to have no idea the marriage was over, then later defends his affair by saying that the marriage was over.  He’s frustrating, and it’s hard not to view the movie as defending his viewpoint and expressing frustration at Baumbach’s own ex-wife and her divorce attorney.  But then, there’s a late turn, and I will admit that the film is probably trying to show us some of Charlie’s weaknesses, too, in a way that will be particularly effective.
Still despite all the wonderful performances (so electric they kept me from really noticing the nominated score), Marriage Story was an unpleasant watch for me.  It stirred up a bunch of bad feelings, and I haven’t even been divorced.
Academy members will probably relate to the characters but choose to honor a film that feels more grand or triumphant in some way.
Marriage Story is a good movie, but it’s more likely to be recognized for one (or more) of its strong performances, or its writing than to win the biggest prize of the night.

Parasite

Nominated Producers: Kwak Sin Ae and Bong Joon Ho
Director: Bong Joon Ho
Writers: Bong Joon Ho and Jin Won Han

Cast: Kang-ho Song, Woo-sik Choi, So-dam Park, Yeo-jeong Jo, Sun-kyun Lee, Hye-jin Jang, Jeong-eun Lee, Hyun-jun Jung and others.

Plot: 

In economically divided, present day South Korea, a bunch of sub-basement-dwelling con-artists come up with an elaborate plot, cozying up to a wealthy family in a diabolical scheme to get…employed!  That’s right.  The first half of Parasite plays like a clever heist movie, but the goal of the whole slick con is getting paying jobs!  As the film opens, the Kims subsist in a hovel and have next to nothing, and the Parks live in an opulent house and have…far more than anyone ever dreams!

Why It Should Win:

Parasite is clever, fun, gorgeously shot, exciting, and (best of all) memorable.  The film really does stay with you long after you watch it, making it ideal for long, rich, post-movie discussions.  Some have compared it to Hitchcock.  My daughter (who named it her favorite film of the year) says it reminds her of Clue because (among other reasons) she likes the energy of the house.  The film does make fascinating use of its setting, coaxing usefulness and meaning from all of the physical hiding places and symbolically charged spaces within the Park home (and within the Kim home, too, for that matter).  I personally think Parasite was robbed of a cinematography nomination.  I love the film’s clean lines, cleverly framed shots, and artful visual symbolism.  I do love Hitchcock, but the movie Parasite makes me think of is Poltergeist, and I’d love to write an essay comparing the two.  (I’m thinking of expanding my blog to include more analysis, I and may actually compose a post like this in the near future.)
When I first saw the movie, what positively impressed me the most were my constantly shifting sympathies.  The character dynamics at play here are so sophisticated.  We don’t have “good guys” versus “bad guys,” just people trying to survive within their worlds.  Since this is a true ensemble piece, I was delighted to see it win Best Ensemble at the SAG awards.  We get rich, complex characters with messy lives, often hurting each other to help themselves, sometimes without even realizing it.
As the film progresses, it veers through countless tonal shifts that you may have heard about.  But Parasite goes beyond simple tonal shifts.  Its twists and turns take the audience through multiple genres until we reach the point that we truly don’t know what kind of movie we are watching and have no idea what to expect next.  In some ways, it’s a very cerebral film, and it certainly is not lacking in social commentary, though any two given audience members might disagree on the intended takeaway.
Parasite also contains some extremely moving moments, among them the dismissal of Jeong-eun Lee’s character.  Her worried bewilderment is palpable, a beautiful momentum break, tonal shift, and turn away from the madcap comedic energy of the “clever con” section of the film.  And then, of course, we get something we don’t expect, a surprise that exposes the Kim family as being less devious than they thought and literally out of their depth.  

I wish somehow the Academy had found room to honor some of these marvelous performances. I personally find Yeo-jeong Jo’s Mrs. Park the film’s most consistently sympathetic character.  Though flawed like everyone, she honestly is a devoted mother (incredibly concerned about her son’s welfare, though ironically, all of her worries result in a very undesired conclusion), and the actress perfectly brings out her innate kindness and vulnerabilities.  I half expected Kim patriarch Kang-ho Song to get a Best Supporting Actor nomination.  Woo-sik Choi makes Ki-woo easy to root for, even when the character takes a shockingly dark turn.  I love Sun-kyun Lee’s voice, and the spirit So-dam Park brings to Ki-jung.  All the performances are excellent.

I can’t say much more about Parasite.  Please don’t take the shortness of my write-up as a slight on the movie.  I just don’t want to spoil any surprises for people who haven’t seen the film yet.  To be honest, I worry I’ve already said too much.

Why It Shouldn’t Win:
Parasite is overrated. Granted, that’s only because people are losing their minds about it. It is excellent. It is exceptional. It may be a masterpiece. But that’s enough, isn’t it? All of those people excitedly saying, “Want to hear my new revised list of best films?…Ahem…number 2, Citizen Kane,” need to calm way down.

My first viewing of Parasite was slightly spoiled by other people’s excessive praise. I kept hearing “masterpiece” from those who don’t normally throw the word around, so while I liked the film, I expected a bit more.

Parasite is so well crafted. But why does it need that tacked on bit of narration at the end? I love the power of the last shot, but the segment just before seems like the most (and, in fact, the only) messy part of the movie.  I personally hate narrators who don’t show up until the final act. 

Now just the other night before bed, I did begin to wonder, “What if everything after the party is a kind of dream sequence” or “What if the ‘message’ is the hallucination of a damaged brain?”  But thoughts like that (while exciting) seem reaching even to me (who thought of them).
While I am happy about Parasite‘s warm reception in this country, I am also sad that people keep ignoring Pain and Glory.  And my heart breaks a little every time I hear someone say that nobody honestly liked Roma.  In my mind, I murmur feebly, “I liked Roma.”  (In my imagination, I’m Hans Moleman from The Simpsons.  “I was saying Boo-urns.”)  I did like Roma, and sometimes, in my bolder moments, I think that I like both Roma and Pain and Glory just a little bit more than the much vaunted Parasite.  
But Parasite is undeniably strong and would make a deserving Best Picture winner.  And it has a real shot.  In fact, in this grouping of three, I’d call it not only the most likely Best Picture winner, but the only likely Best Picture winner.  It has some big hurdles to overcome, though.  Don’t forget, it’s a foreign language film from South Korea, and despite the deserved win for SAG ensemble, for American audiences, the only real “star” involved is director Bong Joon Ho.   Plus Parasite is almost sure to win the Oscar for Best International Film.  It could also win for editing (where neither 1917 nor Once Upon a Time…In Hollywood is nominated).  So there are other ways to reward it.  We may even see Bong Joon Ho win Best Director and picture go to 1917 or Once Upon a Time…In Hollywood.
Parasite does have a real shot at a Best Picture win, but I’d still give the edge to the English language war epic 1917.
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