OVP: Adapted Screenplay (2023)

OVP: Best Adapted Screenplay (2023)

The Nominees Were...

 

Cord Jefferson, American Fiction

Greta Gerwig & Noah Baumbach, Barbie

Christopher Nolan, Oppenheimer

Tony McNamara, Poor Things

Jonathan Glazer, The Zone of Interest

My Thoughts: As I said yesterday, the Best Picture field was dominating in this category, with all five of the films cited being from that field, and the certain sixth place also being a Best Picture nominee.  When you're that staid, it's hard to have a lot of interesting things to say.  This is the first time we've gotten to one of these movies (the rest had tech citations), and obviously it's not the last time we'll get to them, as all of these will not only show up in Best Picture, but 45% of our acting nominees & 60% of our directing nominees are from these five films...so let's just do this, as if Oscar didn't have an interesting take on this field, I shouldn't be expected to find one to start our discussion.

American Fiction is the only new name we haven't hit yet, so I'll begin there.  I really enjoyed this movie, let's start straight-out, I think more than most people did even with its Oscar haul.  I believe it's sharp in the way it handles satire, while also giving us scenes that feel so real that you can't help but wonder if this is exactly how they'd play out in real-life.  I do think the film fails in trying to talk about the Black experience alongside the queer experience (we'll get into this more tomorrow with Sterling K. Brown's character, but it's grappled with really poorly in a film that otherwise feels quite on-the-nerve), but it also shares so much rich discourse about how the commodification of diversity has led to a flattening effect, it's hard to argue with this film being celebrated.

Barbie was inexplicably placed here despite it being adapted from a box in a toy store (I think this is one of the stupider choices the branch has made in a while), but it's a fun & game look at Mattel's pink creation.  Gerwig & Baumbach's script is funny, filled with wit and delicious commentary on feminism.  I honestly think the best parts of the film in that regard are some of the asides ("I don't control the railways or the flow of commerce" being a really astute look at the literal meanings of words), more than something like America Ferrara's quite generic "girl power" speech toward the end of the film.  I was more struck by the movie's humor than its abundant looks at the experiences of women, to be real...but as a man I'm going to kind of let that one go as I don't feel the need to Kensplain a fun script's weak points.

This is another Barbenheimer mash-up (currently Barbie is up 2-0 in the OVP with three more categories to go after today), and Oppenheimer in a lot of ways stays in the same lane as Barbie: a lot of good, just a smattering of needs-to-be-fixed.  I loved the way Nolan handles the film's structure, giving us snippets of Oppenheimer's life that still feels like it's building to something, and we have a lot of wonderful writing.  The film's politics, similar to Barbie, are a mixed bag (should Oppenheimer get the benefit-of-the-doubt in the way that he does?), it has one terrible line about JFK that needs to be cut as it's far too Sorkin-esque, and Nolan continues not to be able to write women (Emily Blunt's Oscar nomination being this one-note is very much a writer's issue).  But this is a gigantic, engaging biopic, one that earns its stripes.

The Zone of Interest is so much a film of other elements (directing, production design, sound) that you might forget that it also has an absolute banger of a screenplay.  The movie uses the Holocaust as an omnipresent Sword of Damocles, ready to strike at any moment the audience might forget what is going on with these characters.  The way that it makes organic dialogue feel so chilling, as we hear people discuss mundane topics that also include genocide (one that they're helping to perpetrate) is horrifying, and a good reminder that the way we treat modern politics as a game is really dismissing the real world ramifications of those conversations (and us dismissing our own role in them).  Glazer is a genius.

Which brings us to Poor Things.  Between the two, I honestly think that Poor Things is the more intriguing piece of feminist writing than Barbie, mostly because it's having a conversation that is rarely brought up in the movies around a woman taking power over her sexuality (and the way that that threatens men).  But when it comes to gender dynamics between the two, especially in the film's second half, it becomes a bit less riveting, and again moves into cliched conversations.  The writing is also sharper in the first half, much wittier and the plotting is more strongly-structured.  Poor Things, the more I write about it, feels like a movie that aged worse after I watched it & considered it after-the-fact, which is a pity as Emma Stone is so good in the picture.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes combine adapted & original, so we have four adapted screenplays losing to the original Anatomy of a Fall: Barbie, Poor Things, Oppenheimer, and Killers of the Flower Moon.  The BAFTA's put Barbie in original, so it's not here, though American Fiction won against All of Us Strangers, Oppenheimer, Poor Things, & The Zone of Interest, while the WGA's (which, let's remember, were presented after the Oscars so this isn't really a "precursor" at all) also went to American Fiction atop Are You There God, It's Me Margaret?, Killers of the Flower Moon, Nyad, & Oppenheimer.  In sixth place, it's obviously Killers of the Flower Moon-the only Best Picture nominee not to get nominated anywhere else, there's no way it wasn't Scorsese's film.

Films I Would Have Nominated: I have held off long enough in discussing All of Us Strangers and its criminal lack of nominations at the Oscars (I purposefully haven't listed it before this even though it will definitely get nominations at the My Ballot before this.  Just an absolutely perfect film, one that gives so much in its script, generously looking at the way we can never really grow up (and never truly understand our parents).

Oscar's Choice: Making films about writers is generally a good way to win this award, and that was the case with American Fiction, getting a trophy against the "Barbenheimer" team that otherwise would've gone to one of the duo (I'm honestly not sure which).

My Choice: For sure The Zone of Interest, totally acing with not even a top three aspect of the film (it's just that good).  For the silver, I'm going to give it to Barbie against Oppenheimer, giving Gerwig's film a 3-0 lead with the OVP.  Both films have faults, but Barbie's are less to do with the script (and again, both faults are minor-both would've made a decent victor).  Behind these are American Fiction and then Poor Things.

Those are my thoughts-what about you?  Do you want to critique the literary scene with Oscar or would you prefer to...actually The Zone of Interest is so dark I can't make this cutesy-is your choice American Fiction or The Zone of Interest?  Was Barbie or Oppenheimer closer here (I think of their six matchups, this is the one that they got the closest both in my ballot and with Oscar's)?  And who was Killers of the Flower Moon closest to ousting?  Share your thoughts below!

Also in 2023: Original Screenplay, International Feature Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound, Original Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2023

Past Best Adapted Screenplay Contests: 1931-32, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022

Ranting On...the Barbie "Snubs"

My relationship with the Oscars has changed since I first became enamored.  I watched my first Oscar clips for the 1994 (i.e. Forrest Gump Oscars) and watched my first ceremony in 1995.  I was very much a child then, and the Oscars were quite different, much more of a pop culture moment, where everyone you knew stopped everything you were doing and watched them (they were even on a Monday!).  I have, in the years since never missed a ceremony, even driving through a blizzard to watch the 2004 ceremony on my little 13" TV screen, and it has been an omnipresent part of my life.  My friends and family, when describing me, will undoubtedly use the words "movies" or "Oscars" within the first two sentences.

But in that time, I've learned that while movies are always a source of magic, you need to temper your expectations with the Oscars.  I wasn't always this way.  I had an imaginary vendetta against Hilary Swank in 2004 when she beat Annette Bening for the Oscar (for the second time), and I am still actively angry about Crash beating Brokeback Mountain for Best Picture.  But for the most part, when I became a fully-fledged, completely-employed adult, I gave up on putting a lot of stock in what Oscar chose.  There are exceptions (I still think Brendan Fraser beating the beautiful work that was done last year by Colin Farrell & Paul Mescal is insanity, given he was giving a truly bad performance), but for the most part, I am happy when Oscar makes the right call because I know what it means for the person I'm rooting for and just roll my eyes when they pick something foolish.

The internet, particularly Twitter, does not take such a lackadaisical approach to the Oscars, or to anything, let's be real.  Yesterday, in what was surely the most predictable Oscar nominations in eons, the internet lost their collective minds at the nominations, particularly Greta Gerwig and Margot Robbie not featuring in Best Director or Actress.  I saw posters blaming Annette Bening, Ryan Gosling, and saying that this fulfilled Gerwig's whole argument in Barbie by having Ken get a nomination but Barbie going home empty-handed.  I initially thought this was just shock-posting for engagement, but eventually saw celebrities (including, somehow, Hillary Clinton) weighing in, so I want to, as someone who has lived through a lot of Oscars, give my two cents.

First off, let's address the obvious-Barbie had a great morning yesterday, the cherry on the sundae of an incredible year for the movie.  2023 was the year of Barbenheimer, and Oscar did not forget to wear some pink.  The film won eight nominations, including for Best Picture, and that is insane when you think about it for longer than two seconds.  The film is about a doll, is a comedy without much hint of drama, and came out in the summer.  These are not things that get you Best Picture nominations-these are things that get you, at best, a citation for Production Design or Original Song.  There is a world, in fact, where Barbie only gets those.  It is a testament to how well-constructed Robbie & Gerwig made this movie (and their flawless press tour the past six months) that it was able to get in at all.  The nominations it got were still a testament to its quality, box office, and ardent fanbase.

If you want to look at the nominations, let's look at them.  First off, Robbie didn't lose to a single man-Barbie didn't lose to Ken, they were in different categories, with different competition. Robbie likely lost it to Annette Bening, a pioneering feminist in her own right, playing a real-life athlete who stood against ageism & sexism to become the first person to swim from Cuba to Florida.  You can get into all kinds of debates over whether or not Bening's performance is better than Robbie's (that's a legit convo to have), but first off, see her movie before you say Robbie was snubbed (which I suspect most people had not seen Nyad, Maestro, Killers of the Flower Moon, and Anatomy of a Fall who were proclaiming Robbie was "robbed" yesterday), and second off, it's not anti-feminist to have Annette freaking Bening instead of Margot Robbie.  It's also worth noting that Barbie did get a nomination yesterday, for Best Picture (Robbie is a producer on the film), which is arguably more in-line with the message of the film than anything else, and for America Ferrera, one of the other women in the movie, so it's hardly like none of the film's actresses didn't get cited for their work.

Gerwig's loss is also not a textbook definition of anti-feminist on its own.  For starters, the people complaining about her miss for sure haven't seen The Zone of Interest (it's barely been released) and likely haven't seen Anatomy of a Fall, which was directed by a woman (a woman who fought to get her film seen even as the President of France was working overtime to make it falter).  The reality is that in a contest where there are five director nominations and 10 Best Picture nominations, there's not a "I guess the film directed itself" joke here so much as it's simply mathematically impossible for all of them to be included.  And no, this isn't a case where we should expand the number of nominees...it's a case where we should be grownups and admit "not everyone is going to make it, and we shouldn't cry foul, particularly when we haven't even seen all of the nominees."

The last thing I want to say is around the people who were convinced that this was a sexist act solely because Ken got in but Barbie didn't, which is much of the plot of the movie.  First, leave Ryan Gosling out of this-he's championed the movie, and been a total cheerleader for Robbie & Gerwig on the red carpet all season.  Second, Robbie & Gerwig both got nominations in other categories-they are headed to the Dolby later this year.  Third, films get nominated for Best Picture without a Best Director nomination all. the. time...including when there were only five Best Picture nominations.  And last, this is kind of pathetic to be this upset over something as silly as an awards show.  It's reminiscent of the Millennial urge to call Trump "Voldemort" or "Thanos."  If you are an adult, you should be able to view the world through shades of grey, understand nuance, and not need a pop culture veneer to make a point.  It's okay to be sad if you wanted Gerwig or Robbie to make it into those categories-if they're your favorites, awesome (I thought they were good too!), but it's not okay to act like this is an anti-feminist act when there's really no indication it was.  It was just a case of a movie that is very out of the Oscar's wheelhouse getting a big awards haul, but not super big because, again, it's not to Oscar's taste.  If you want to create an awards show where Gerwig & Robbie get included...I make my own every year.  I encourage you to do so.  But having a hissy fit online over it is, well, something you should grow up about.

OVP: Director (2017)

OVP: Best Director (2017)

The Nominees Were...

Christopher Nolan, Dunkirk

Jordan Peele, Get Out

Greta Gerwig, Lady Bird

Paul Thomas Anderson, Phantom Thread

Guillermo del Toro, The Shape of Water

My Thoughts: One of the stranger things about the 5+ wide fields for Best Picture compared to the previous years is trying to understand which titles would've been the "odd man in" in this field.  All five of this year's nominees for Best Director were cited for Best Picture (it has became uncommonly rare for a film to get into Best Director and not score a Picture nod, though Foxcatcher and Another Round indicate that it isn't impossible), but considering the strength of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, which was snubbed in this category, one has to assume that one of these directors would've been our "odd person in."

It's possible that it would've been Paul Thomas Anderson, whose surprise strength on Oscar nominations morning was definitely unexpected.  PTA has had an unusual history with the Oscars (missing for The Master while clearly being a favorite in other years), but this one is well-directed at least.  The story has more hiccups for me than the direction, guiding us effortlessly through the cloistered, almost other-plane world of the House of Woodcock, and he makes sure to keep the best bits of Day-Lewis, Krieps, & Manville onscreen, bristling & prickly amidst all of the silk & lace.  I do think it runs a bit long, and there are moments where the direction feels hackneyed (the thriller twists in the final third), but this is fine work from a master of his craft.

The other "odd man out" contender in my eyes is Christopher Nolan as Dunkirk missing in VFX convinced me that it was never a serious contender for the Best Picture crown.  Nolan's direction, though, is some of the best of his career.  Bringing a life force to largely anonymous men, he makes war feel so up-close as to almost immerse the audience.  This is a tricky feat, not just because much of the storytelling is based on us getting invested in the characters onscreen, but also because it's challenging to create point-of-view style entertainment without it feeling off-putting or like you're stuck in a video game.  That Dunkirk feels so real, but doesn't sacrifice its cinematic qualities is a testament to Nolan's capable hand as a director.

Jordan Peele's debut work in Get Out also shows a steady hand, albeit one where the script is more impressive than the direction.  Some of the pacing & iconography (especially when they go to the Sunken Place) is mimicked for a reason-it's instantly captivating, like when you're watching a movie knowing it will be celebrated for decades.  But Peele's other elements occasionally feel a bit prosaic, as if he's gilding the lily by repeatedly pointing out the allegories of his tale, speaking almost throughout in metaphor.  He abandons some of this in Us, and the better for it (less is more with elevated horror)...but still, a good movie & a director of promise.

Greta Gerwig joins him as a breakout star here in the director's chair.  Telling a richly personal story, Gerwig gets the tone of the film exactly right.  The way that she seems to frame everything from Lady Bird's point-of-view, but gives the audience insight into other side characters who are evolving alongside her is marvelous, and I loved the way that she utilizes long or medium shots when other directors would've indulged in a closeup (I'm thinking specifically of the scene where Lucas Hedges comes out of the closet) as it gives us more time to watch everything from the side.  Gerwig's sophomore effort wasn't my favorite (I prefer Lady Bird to Little Women), but man what an entrance onto the cinematic scene.

Our final nomination is Guillermo del Toro, certainly not on his debut feature but definitely someone who was having a graduation moment with the Oscars.  Del Toro's work in The Shape of Water is a testament to cinema in its best moments, showing us what it'd be like if Douglas Sirk has made Creature from the Black Lagoon (that's a compliment).  I still think he can't make the film work when he gets beyond the central romance, and even the shifts in lighting & camera angles don't make it feel like an essential part of the movie, but once again, I think this is worthy, and one of my favorite elements of this picture.

Other Precursor Contenders: We're finally in a situation where the Globes match the Oscars in terms of number of nominees, though here they aren't the same assortment.  Guillermo took Best Director, but only Nolan stayed from Oscars lineup as we have Steven Spielberg (The Post), Martin McDonagh (Three Billboards), & Ridley Scott (All the Money in the World) in a more dramatic lineup of contenders.  BAFTA also went with Guillermo, with an almost completely different lineup than Oscar too just keeping Nolan alongside McDonagh, Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name), & Denis Villeneuve (Blade Runner 2049), while DGA went with Guillermo and largely stayed close to Oscar's choices, with only Anderson from AMPAS list missing in favor of McDonagh (our clear sixth place).

Directors I Would Have Nominated: I'll have my My Ballot out tomorrow, so I won't spoil the contenders quite yet.  Suffice it to say, this is a good list...that I plan on largely upending.
Oscar's Choice: This was the Guillermo Oscars-a time when AMPAS decided to truly invite a visionary director to the stage even when they easily could've skipped him (I have to wonder if second place was Nolan, and what his career might've meant winning for something so nontraditional compared to the rest of his SciFi-focused filmography).

My Choice: I'm not a rabid fanboy, but I also am a fan, and Dunkirk is some of the best work I've seen from Nolan, who gets my trophy.  Behind him I'm going to go with Gerwig, who does a lot with a traditional suburban setting (I'm proud of Oscar for nominating a movie that to some degree is as outside its wheelhouse as Shape of Water).  Anderson, del Toro, & Peele follow.

Those were my thoughts-how about yours?  Do you want to stay over in the beautiful nightmares of Guillermo del Toro or the heightened realism of Christopher Nolan?  Do you think Gerwig or Peele will get back into the Best Director field first?  And how is it that Martin McDonagh missed after sweeping the precursors?  Share your thoughts in the comments!

Also in 2017: Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Original Screenplay, Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume Design, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2017

Past Best Director Contests: 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2018, 2019

OVP: Original Screenplay (2017)

  OVP: Best Original Screenplay (2017)

The Nominees Were...

Emily V. Gordon & Kumail Nanjiani, The Big Sick

Jordan Peele, Get Out

Greta Gerwig, Lady Bird

Guillermo del Toro & Vanessa Taylor, The Shape of Water

Martin McDonagh, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

My Thoughts: If you look at the long history of the Academy Awards, you will find that few things are as consistent as the Oscars preferring adapted screenplays to original ones when it comes to the Best Picture lineup.  Whether it is the gigantic literary adaptations of the 1930's or the stage adaptations of the 1950's or the modern era, where we frequently will see musicals & prestige bestsellers transformed for the big screen...Oscar goes in hard for adapted screenplays on the big screen.  This makes a year like 2017 that much more unique, when almost all of the major contenders for Best Picture, including the winner, were original screenplays while adapted is almost completely absent.

We're going to start out with the movie that won Oscar's top prize (but not this one), The Shape of Water.  I have been ambivalent to Shape of Water throughout the past few weeks as we've discussed it constantly (13 nominations, y'all), partially because that was my reaction to the movie.  I didn't love it, I didn't hate it, I thought it was beautiful & wanted to like it more than I did (in many ways, it was reminiscent of La La Land in that I was more disappointed that I didn't love a film that clearly I could've & others did, rather than outwardly disliking it).  That being said, the screenplay is the movie's weakest element.  The film has too many plotlines, taking us away from our central story of Eliza, and both Michael Stuhlberg & Michael Shannon's characters play as virtual cartoons, both as acted & as written.  If there's a reason that Shape of Water didn't take off for me, it was the writing.

Conversely, Get Out's best asset might be its screenplay.  Jordan Peele's well-constructed horror film got the genre rare inclusion with the Academy, and it's clear that he has a singular vision, well-executed, throughout the movie giving us strong allegories about racism in modern America.  Peele's writing on occasion veers into the too-predictable (for a movie that is predicated on twists, it's easy to see pretty much every one of them coming a mile away, something that plagued his next film Us but that movie derived less of its strength from that twist, so it felt less consequential), but we're quibbling because this is in a very strong field-this is a sign of a talent worth watching, and as his next movie proved, a talent that delivered.

Another talent that would have a successful followup in 2019 is Greta Gerwig, who wrote Lady Bird.  Unlike Get Out, Lady Bird isn't contingent on twists, though there are a few of them in the film, and instead is about trying to capture a specific kind of youth.  I'll cop to a bit narcissism here, as this film is semi-autobiographical to Gerwig (who is roughly my age), and as a result the music & attitudes of an immediately post-9/11 high school experience is a story I can get into without too much imagination-stretching, but I loved Lady Bird.  I thought the conversations in the movie, particularly those between Saoirse Ronan and both of her onscreen parents were so authentic to the self-centered youth experience, albeit with just a hint of nostalgia & envy from an adult Gerwig finally realizing "Lady Bird's" potential. 

The Big Sick is also semi-autobiographical, and considering the main character sports writer Kumail Nanjiani's actual name, I honestly wonder if we can drop the "semi" part of that description.  In an era where quality rom-com's have largely gone the way of the dodo, you almost look on The Big Sick in wonder.  It helps that the film's least successful element (Zoe Kazan does not have as strong of chemistry with Nanjiani as either of her onscreen parents Ray Romano & Holly Hunter) is sidelined for much of the movie.  This allows us to take a look at the strange reality of how when you fall in love with one person, you're thrown into their family regardless of whether you want to or not, and this feels realistically explored within the movie.

Our final nominee is Three Billboards.  One of the conversations that I find most intriguing right now in film criticism is the one around whether characters are "problematic" or not.  I think largely this is people not understanding the purpose of film (not every character is meant to be a "good guy" even the ones marketed as "good guys"), but I think I do agre that there's a responsibility born by the screenwriters to understand their characters aren't "good guys" when it comes to the collective film narrative.  This is all to say that I don't think it's a problem that Sam Rockwell is a racist cop who also feels pretty affable within the confines of the movie (that feels like a realistic depiction, at least on paper, of an actual human being-not everyone is all good or all evil).  But the ending leaves it so that this is forgiven and forgotten by the writers, which borders into condoning it as a "necessary evil" in the same way that McDormand's complicated relationship with her daughter is also forgivable...but they are not the same thing.  This totally upends McDonagh's script and solid ability with dialogue.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes combine adapted and original into one category, though original almost completely dominated there, getting a win for Three Billboards and nominations for Lady Bird, The Shape of Water, & The Post.  The BAFTA's split their categories with a victorious Three Billboards besting Get Out, I Tonya, Lady Bird, & The Shape of Water, while the WGA went to Get Out against I Tonya, Lady Bird, The Big Sick, & The Shape of Water.  While sixth place looks like I, Tonya from these nominations, its lack of a Best Picture nomination points the Big Sick's biggest competition as likely being The Post or Phantom Thread...considering Anderson's mixed bag in this category, I'm inclined to pick the former.

Films I Would Have Nominated: I get that this is brimming with Oscar favorites, and far be it from me to try & take away love to a movie as cute as The Big Sick, but I do wish that at least one more more atypical Oscar nominee (this category is known for embracing such contenders) like The Florida Project had gotten some love.

Oscar’s Choice: This was a close contest between Three Billboards and Get Out, and the latter felt a stronger fit for Oscar outside of the acting branches (Three Billboards also missed in Best Picture & couldn't even get nominated for Best Director), so it won.

My Choice: I'm going to go with Lady Bird, which I think is the best combination of dialogue, story structure, & using its genre in its writing.  Behind that let's do The Big Sick, Get Out, Shape of Water, and Three Billboards.

Those are my thoughts-what about you?  This is a tough one, but are you more with Oscar & the scary world of Jordan Peele, or are you inclined to join me in the sunnier universe provided by Greta Gerwig?  How badly would this category have aged if McDonagh had won (which is totally plausible)?  And was I Tonya, The Post, or Phantom Thread in sixth place?  Share your thoughts below!

Also in 2017: Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume Design, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2017

Past Best Original Screenplay Contests: 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2018, 2019

OVP: Adapted Screenplay (2019)

 OVP: Best Adapted Screenplay (2019)

The Nominees Were...

Steven Zaillian, The Irishman

Taika Waititi, Jojo Rabbit

Todd Phillips & Scott Silver, Joker

Greta Gerwig, Little Women

Anthony McCarten, The Two Popes

My Thoughts: In the Original Screenplay category on Monday (see below for links to all past 2019 contests) I opined how there was only one writing nominee that didn't come from a Best Picture race, and how this has become a problem in the last decade, and was particularly egregious in 2019.  That holds just as true for this field.  Only one of these movies was not nominated for Best Picture, and even that was probably a close call (I suspect that The Two Popes or Knives Out would have been the final Best Picture nominee if the Oscar Best Picture contenders were uniform).  Unlike Best Original Screenplay though, which cobbled together a good (though I could've done better) lineup, this field is rougher, and contains a few movies that are total misses when it comes to their writing.

One of those, I'm really sorry to say because I know that she's incredibly talented (and #FilmTwitter is going to eat me alive if they actually catch this article) is Greta Gerwig's Little Women.  One of the expectations of a film is that you shouldn't have to read the book in order to have an idea of what's going on.  Unlike movies based on real events (where you can take some liberties with assuming that, say, the audience is familiar with the concept of there being two living popes), movies based on even famous books need to ground us in the story they're telling, as there's always someone coming into the tale new, which was me here (somehow I have never read Alcott's novel nor seen any of the previous Little Women through to completion).  Gerwig's story reads as jumbled as she meanders through the book, giving us flashbacks without warning, and making some of the performances feel adrift (particularly Ronan's Jo and Watson's Meg).  There are moments of brilliance, as I have since become more familiar with the story (and realize the work Gerwig did to make Amy so compelling), but this is not Lady Bird, and doesn't deserve to be in this lineup.

It's easier to hate on something like The Two Popes since its filmmakers & subjects enjoy less adoration, but weirdly it has a similar problem in that the script's choices hurt the overall narrative.  One could easily criticize The Two Popes for the way it handles the most pressing real-world scandal of the reigns of Popes Benedict & Francis (the sex abuse scandals in the Catholic Church), but if you're looking at a technical level the bigger miss for the script is that it rarely invites us into the inner-worlds of these two men.  We understand very little about what it's like for them to become near-deities to over a billion people, and what drives their personal toils.  I liked The Two Popes' lighter nature, but its screenplay suffers from not giving us enough of what the audience needs to understand their onscreen journey.

Jojo Rabbit also invited a lot of real-world criticism of the structure of the film, but it's another movie that (like The Two Popes) I enjoyed more than most devoted cinephiles.  Here the script works better, even if there are shortcomings to what it's presenting.  The film handles the tricky double-nature of Scarlett Johansson's & Taika Waititi's characters well, particularly in the latter showing the evolution of an imaginary character who exists both in reality but must stay grounded in the mind of a child.  But its ending is in bad taste, and it doesn't know how to invite comic figures (like those played by Sam Rockwell & Rebel Wilson) into the movie in a way that jives with the rest of the plot.  Jojo Rabbit suffers in its latter chapters from being a better idea than a movie, but I think its ideas are brought forth stronger in the first half than some of the other twists we've already seen in these films.

The Irishman is another movie that plays with our concept of time, and in some ways it doesn't succeed (similar to Little Women), but that's not a fault of the director (instead, it's the fault of the visual effects artists and the casting department who couldn't find a convincing way to make Al Pacino look younger).  Otherwise, Irishman is a home-run script, gifting us with three hours of story that runs like a swiss clock, unfolding chapters about these men's humanities (with some slipping away while others maintain their grasps) while also giving us a robust look at the full history of the mob & its interactions with the Teamsters Union during the era of Jimmy Hoffa.  It takes a lot to make an epic that feels intimate, but The Irishman achieves that.

Joker does not.  We are now entering the big categories, and as a result this film doesn't have some of its technical prowess to rely upon as reprieve from my criticism, and the script for Joker is a gigantic mess.  Taking aside the potential twist of the film's final moments (not going to give that away here, but you know what what I'm talking about if you've seen it & know this doesn't work), the movie is dour, has too many stray plots, & borders on the offensive in the way it shows mental illness as a gateway to violence.  The movie has no joy, life, or redemption, and without it there's also no contrast, making it feel like looking at a monochromatic wall rather than anything with texture.  The writing of Joker, a movie I didn't like but can tell that there was some skill in its execution, is the one area that fail on every level for me.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes combine their writing categories so there is no adapted or original distinction, and we already gave the prize to the original screenplay of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.  However, both The Two Popes and The Irishman did get into the Top 5 with the field.  The BAFTA's split, but went exactly after Oscar's lineup, and even picked the eventual winner there with Jojo Rabbit coming out on-top.  WGA is usually better for differentiation (though it too went with Jojo for the win), bumping The Two Popes in favor of A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.  I think that Beautiful Day was in sixth place, as there's almost no other options (in my predictions at the time, I even listed Avengers: Endgame as a 7th place option this field was so thin for plausible Oscar competitors).

Films I Would Have Nominated: I'm definitely picking some new names here, but I don't blame Oscar for getting totally distracted as the adapted work in 2019 was not good (my field is better by my measure, but this is the weakest lineup I mustered in 2019 for my personal Oscars).  I'd have opted to keep Beautiful Day (Marielle Heller is always so good at crafting films like this), and I'd have surely thrown in Christian Petzold's ingenious modernization of a 75-year-old novel with Transit.  I also think I'd have found room for How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World (by the shifting rules of this category over the years it likely would count as adapted in 2019), as it takes some prowess to draw such an epic tale to a close.

Oscar's Choice: For me this was seen as a proxy consolation prize for Taika Waititi & Greta Gerwig (both of whom just missed a Best Director nomination).  Oscar seemed to think Jojo Rabbit was in sixth place & gave the former the trophy.

My Choice: Not even a question mark for me-with Transit not in the contest, The Irishman is the best of the scripts here, and would get my statue.  I'd follow that with Jojo, Little Women, The Two Popes, and Joker WAY in back.

Those are my thoughts-what about you?  I know it hasn't aged as well for some, but I must have company over with The Irishman, or are more people siding with Jojo?  Does Little Women hold up better upon revisit if you're super familiar with Alcott's work?  And what are the under-sung adaptations of 2019 that I should be investigating?  Share your thoughts below!

Also in 2019: Original Screenplay, International Feature Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Animated Short, Live Action Short, Previously in 2019

Past Best Adapted Screenplay Contests: 2005, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016

OVP: Little Women (2019)

Film: Little Women (2019)
Stars: Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, Eliza Scanlen, Laura Dern, Timothee Chalamet, Meryl Streep
Director: Greta Gerwig
Oscar History: 6 nominations/1 win (Best Picture, Actress-Saoirse Ronan, Supporting Actress-Florence Pugh, Costume Design*, Score, Adapted Screenplay)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Confession time-I've never read Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.  Another, weirder confession-I've never seen any of the onscreen iterations of the film.  Not the one with Kate Hepburn.  Not the one with June Allyson.  Not even the one with Winona Ryder.  Somehow, despite all being "OVP" (we'll get to them all eventually), I'd never seen this story onscreen until I saw Greta Gerwig's recent iteration.  This also presents something of a challenge, because while I know enough about the story to be dangerous (weirdly due to that one Friends episode where Joey & Rachel read this book and The Shining), I don't know it by heart, and based on some of the reviews I've read, Gerwig's film takes a lot of different directions that aren't typical for interpretations of Alcott's story.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film is not told in the traditional more linear fashion that past versions (and the novel) were told.  Instead, it jumps straight to the middle, and we get an array of flashbacks into the lives of the four March sisters.  We see Amy (Pugh) already in Paris with Aunt March (Streep), trying to pursue Laurie (Chalamet) after he's just been rejected by her sister Jo (Ronan), who is off trying to become a successful writer.  Meanwhile, Meg (Watson) is back home struggling to find a way to make ends meet with her poor husband, and we soon learn that she once had the opportunity to have a far wealthier end to her story.  And of course there's sweet, piano-playing Beth (Scanlen) off in the corner getting deathly sick.  Told back-and-forth, the film gives us backgrounds about these young women, as well as an indication of where they're going.

As I'm not familiar with the story, I was, while not confused, a bit perplexed.  Gerwig's film is clearly meant to be a companion piece to someone who is already a fan of this tale, not simply a "stand alone" story as if it's treated as such, it's kind of messy.  The film is charming, no doubt, and has enough of the original tale to make sense, but it has less impact when you are halfway to realizing Amy will marry Laurie and not Jo since that's the opening scenes for those characters, or that you have a strong indication that Beth is about to die from the film's beginning.  I am a firm believer that you shouldn't have to read the book to understand and enjoy the movie (they need to exist on different plains), so I am going to fault Gerwig's film a bit here even though others will claim this is totally acceptable.  As it is, the film is good, but it's not great, and that's because it feels kind of jumbled and without enough narrative stakes for the audience as written.

That said, she assembled an amazing cast and a slew of actors that likely saw Lady Bird and were willing to sign up for anything that Gerwig was willing to do after that.  Chalamet is sexy & spoiled as Laurie, but one has to assume that this is a character that feels pretty dismissible for fans of earlier iterations of the picture as you can't really root for such a man.  He re-teams here with his Lady Bird costar Saoirse Ronan, who plays Jo as an ardent feminist, someone who is more concerned to be what she said she's always wanted to be than, as the film progresses, who she might secretly wish to be.  The scene toward the end where she realizes that she might have made it work with Laurie is devastating, but I don't think Ronan does enough groundwork to make the rest of her character stick.  This is in contrast to Florence Pugh, who kind of steals the picture from the cavalcade of Oscar nominees as Amy.  She gives a character that could be easily discarded a verve and passion that you wouldn't expect, and along with Midsommar, shows that she's an actress that has arrived in 2019.

OVP: Isle of Dogs (2018)

Film: Isle of Dogs (2018)
Stars: Bryan Cranston, Koyu Rankin, Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum, Kunichi Nomura, Greta Gerwig, Frances McDormand, Scarlett Johansson, Harvey Keitel, F. Murray Abraham, Tilda Swinton, Liev Schreiber
Director: Wes Anderson
Oscar History: 2 nominations (Best Animated Feature Film, Score)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

The films of Wes Anderson are an odd conundrum for me.  Usually, when it comes to a deeply-stylized director, an auteur, if you will, I have strong opinions.  They might be good, almost "stan-nish" (Malick, Scorsese, Bergman), or they might be loathed (Inarritu, Russell, McKay).  But Wes Anderson I am almost always ambivalent toward, despite the fact that his films are very specific, so you would think they would recall some sort of reaction from me, either for the good or the bad.  There are movies of his that I like, there are others of his that I disliked, but I've never felt absurdly strongly one way or the other with Anderson.  He just sort of is this weird tangent I sit through at the movie theater.  When he made Isle of Dogs I was smart enough to know that he'd get another Animated Feature nomination so I caught the film before the nominations announcement (it seems likely that he'll eventually win his Oscar in this category, but unlike another stylized director, George Miller, he's worked here long enough for this not to seem strange), but once again I leave the film with a sense of "ehh" neither particularly damning of it but not overwhelmed either.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film's plot is, admittedly ridiculous (though a lot of great movies have ridiculous plots, so don't assume this is an insult).  The mayor of Megasaki (Nomura) in Japan has banished all of the dogs of his city to an island made of trash in the middle of the sea, officially under the pretense that he's trying to rid the city of the animals in hopes of preventing "canine influenza" from spreading to his citizens, but really it's part of a bizarre 1000-year-old vendetta to destroy all of the dogs in Japan.  The mayor's nephew Atari (Rankin) goes to trash island trying to find his dog Spots (Schreiber).  He is led in this quest by Chief (Cranston), whom we learn to be Spots's brother, who hates humans but slowly warms to Atari, and takes on the role as his protector.  They find him while being chased by a series of robot dogs, and eventually we discover that Spots has moved on from Atari, raising his family with a female dog, and makes Chief officially the child's protector.  Together, along with a student reporter named Tracy (Gerwig), they foil the mayor's plan, and eventually Atari becomes the mayor with Tracy dating him, and Chief becomes his protector, with his enigmatic girlfriend Nutmeg (Johansson) by his side.

The movie is beautiful, let's just say that first.  The films of Wes Anderson have a distinctive palette, but here he outdoes himself with mountains of garbage, a gorgeous city (that is clearly meant to be inspired by Tokyo) that Megasaki rules, and a series of distinct but specific dogs.  There's something to be said for the way that he uses the personalities of the dogs to match their voices in a way that works but isn't too wink-y, and some of the details in the movie are catchy.  If you look closely enough at the credits, you'll find that Anjelica Huston is credited as "mute poodle" a character that's in the film but doesn't actually talk, so there's literally no reason for her to be credited other than an in-joke between two old friends.  Perhaps the best such trick is casting Yoko Ono (yes the Yoko Ono) as an Assistant Scientist...named Yoko Ono.

But the movie is (and I know his defenders hate when people say this about him) "too twee" for me.  It has too many characters to really connect with any of them, and it borders that line between honoring and exploiting a culture that's not your own (Anderson is from Houston), with Anderson casting Japanese actors to play the Japanese characters...and then making all of their dogs be played by white actors.  The film is inventive, frequently to a fault, but I don't want to tear down inventive so I'm going with 3 stars because it's technically "good," but I left considerably under-impressed.  This isn't even Anderson stretching like he did with Grand Budapest or finding a new place to test his skills like Mr. Fox-it's just kind of another movie, one similar and borrowing heavily from what he's done before without anything new to say.

John's Top 10 of 2017

The Globes, Oscars, and pretty much every critic on the internet has weighed in with their Top 10 list of the year, and I figure it is time for me to do the same.  Yesterday I went through the Worst of the Year, and I can't leave you there for long, so let's dive into 2017 one last time.  I will admit up-front that this is arguably one of the least years I remember from the past ten years (the last time I only had six 5-star movies was 2006), but that doesn't mean it doesn't have some notable gems, particularly the below ten films (listed alphabetically, because why rank when I implore you to see all ten, and with more in-depth reviews linked for all of them, so go peruse):

Beach Rats (dir. Eliza Hittman)

In a year where queer cinema was hitting most of the biggest home runs, this is one that could have easily slipped past my radar.  However, with a spectacular debut from Harris Dickinson & a chilling look inside of a closet that won't open, Eliza Hittman shares an uncomfortable story that is beautifully lensed and impossible to shake.

The Big Sick (dir. Michael Showalter)

The romantic comedy is never actually dead, but it feels like it's in constant need of resuscitation.  This film did it not with a compelling leading lady, but instead two incredibly fun performances from Ray Romano & Holly Hunter as a worn married couple who are trying to cope with their daughter's ex-boyfriend being pushed into their lives.  Please give Kumail Nanijiani another movie, ASAP, but perhaps more importantly-give Romano & Hunter a TV series, as this chemistry should be bottled.

Call Me by Your Name (dir. Luca Guadagnino)

I've seen it twice, and it'll be thrice this week.  A beautiful, haunting movie that just unfolds with the confidence of a classic from its opening scenes, its central romance is forbidden, felt, and dead sexy.  Chalamet, between this and Lady Bird, is a discovery of seismic proportions.  One of those movies I know I'll be watching every year.

Coco (dir. Lee Unkrich)

It holds up on second viewing, and that's about as high of a compliment as I can give a picture I loved so fully.  Charmed with bouncy original music and a gorgeous palette of pink, tangerine, and violet, it also has plenty of heart and is proof that when they aren't churning out mindless sequels, Pixar is still the best game in town.

Dunkirk (dir. Christopher Nolan)

An anonymous, but never emotionless, look at war first-hand.  Astoundingly directed by Christopher Nolan (arguably his most ambitious task to-date), we see war on land, air, and sea in a cast of characters that share little of themselves but instead work as blank canvasses, representing in their stead the millions of men that have come before-and-since.  A triumph.

The Florida Project (dir. Sean Baker)

At once a sprawling documentary and an intimate drama, this film feels so raw and authentic you'll be forgiven for assuming that leads Bria Vinaite and Brooklynn Prince weren't just discovered in the shadow of Orlando.  Combined with a soulful, introverted turn from Willem Dafoe, The Florida Project is an honest look at poverty through the wonderful lens of a child.

God's Own Country (dir. Francis Lee)

Yes, it borrows from Brokeback, but the best films often feel possible because of what came before them.  And surely God's Own Country strikes its own path with its troubled leads, and the revelation of Josh O'Connor's Johnny discovering love, and more importantly, intimacy, for the first time in his life.

Jane (dir. Brett Morgen)

Special effects are fine and all, but perhaps nothing was more shocking this year onscreen than the magic of Brett Morgen's time machine documentary, which takes Dr. Jane Goodall back decades with a gold-hued camera as we discover her love of chimpanzees first-hand.  Few documentaries have been so jaw-dropping, and so devoted to their subject.

Lady Bird (dir. Greta Gerwig)

Actors-turned-directors' first efforts can occasionally feel like a waste of time, indulgent affairs for people whose editors are afraid of pissing off the movie star.  Thankfully Greta Gerwig had no such issues, creating a semi-autobiographical look at the world of mothers-and-daughters, grounded by great work from Saoirse Ronan & Laurie Metcalf.

Personal Shopper (dir. Olivier Assayas)

Part grief drama, part ghost story, all fascinating.  Olivier Assayas's devotion to actresses, and finding the small mountains that his lead characters can experience in the oddest of times, is on full-display as Stewart's Maureen deals with the death of her brother, and possibly his hanging-on as she attempts to move on in every capacity of her life.