by Baby Clyde

Hugh Jackman and Florian Zeller on the set of "The Son"

Today I had no mid-film snooze problems. The screenings started at midday with Florian Zeller’s adaptation of his own play The Son. I saw the original London production back in 2019: Great performances. Terrible play. Though Zeller has ironed out some of the innate staginess of the source material The Son can’t overcome the fact that this is not a play about the teenage depression epidemic but rather about absurdly inept parenting. The choices made are so ludicrous and the reasoning so shallow I laughed out loud on numerous occasions. They also kept the queasily distasteful, possible twist as a coda which is no less objectionable on film than it was on the stage. Sir Anthony pops up briefly in what is presumably a reprise of his character from The Father. He makes more impact in three minutes than the rest of the cast do in the other two hours of contrived torment. Consider it the first proper clunker of this Oscar season.

Empire of Light was next and has seemingly been genetically engineered in a film lab to garner Oscar noms...