2019 Best Picture Nominees, Ranked
Well, it was a better set than last years...
8. Little Women (** and a half)
A mostly OK but pointless movie that seems to be nominated because of the people involved? Now this is what I expect to see in a Best Picture list!
All kidding aside, Little Women is OK, but it’s not great, and it’s definitely not better than the 1990’s version with Winona Ryder (I haven’t seen the other versions, of which there are many). So I’m not entirely sure what the point of this new adaptation is. Did Greta Gerwig really think that we didn’t have enough versions of the story?
The main gimmick of the new movie is that it’s told out of order, starting near the end of the book and then jumping around through time. I’m going to be frank: Little Women has some of the worst en media res storytelling I’ve ever seen. It flows terribly, the connections between past and present often feel trivial, the character arcs are completely obscured, and the editing is pretty bad. Somebody should have had the guts to tell Greta Gerwig to recut the entire film. If I hadn’t read the book, I would have found it entirely incomprehensible.
But taken one scene at a time, the film is pretty good. The actors are mostly very good (with special nods to Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, and Chris Cooper), and the dialogue is pretty sharp. It’s been awhile since I’ve read the book, but the language felt very familiar and flowed extremely well. The characters of Beth and Amy have a lot of interesting nuance, and the film ends on a positive, feel-good note. The individual pieces of the film work. I just wish that the journey getting there was a lot smoother.
Little Women is a frustrating movie because I feel like there’s a really good film inside it, hampered by the director’s own ambitions. If the movie just focused on being a good adaptation of the book, it would probably have actually earned the Best Picture nomination. Sadly, it’s a mixed bag, and so I can’t give it a recommendation, especially when the book has already been adapted so many times.
7. Joker (** and a half)
The goal with Joker was to make a more realistic and gritty take on the Batman mythos (i.e. the goal of every Batman reboot since the 1980’s… are we gritty enough yet?). While the setting and tone succeeds at realism, the plot is remarkably contrived: A bunch of kids attack Arthur for no reason. A trio of businessmen beat him up in public for laughing. Someone videotapes his failed standup routine and sends it to a late-night show, and for some reason he gets to be a guest on TV. These sorts of things can happen in real life, but it’s all too obvious that each of these events exist to set up the next scene in the movie, and not because any characters actually had motivations. Maybe it was unrealistic for Jack Napier to fall into an uncovered vat of acid in Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman movie, but at least Jack, Grissom, Ekhart, Gordon, and Batman all had clear reasons for their actions.
The worst plot development is probably Arthur’s relationship to Bruce Wayne, which ends up being a wild good chase with no resolution. The plot presents two scenarios, both with severe plausibility issues, and never settles on either one. I guess the lack of a real backstory is supposed to be super-deep.
The counter-argument to all of this is that the movie is supposed to reflect the Joker’s point of view, in which nothing happens for a reason and civilization is a thin illusion stretched over our true anarchic nature (how deep and edgy!). That’s fine, but we the audience are not the Joker, and we should have some idea of what’s really going on if it’s going to be presented in such a down-to-earth style. The movie isn’t exactly a surreal fever dream. Furthermore, anti-heroes and villains generally gain our respect by taking control of their stories. Past versions of the Joker intrigued us with their paradoxical combination of anarchic nihilism and criminal genius. Arthur Fleck is not a deranged genius; he’s a weak fool degraded or promoted by his circumstances.
(Noted point of contrast: Rupert Pupkin in King of Comedy constantly took initiative, leading to his kidnapping of Jerry Lewis in order to get a TV appearance. He didn’t rely on some off-screen videotaper (in the early 1980’s?) to get him on TV.)
On that note, I wasn’t that impressed with Joaquin Phoenix. It wasn’t the best acting, it was the most acting, with the actor physically straining himself and repeatedly using the same laugh-cry over and over again (IMDB claims there are actually three different laughs. Cute.). I didn’t get the feeling that either the actor or the director-writer did much research into mental diseases. Arthur’s erotomanic delusions are interesting, but otherwise he just comes off as generically crazy, and never likeable or relatable.
For as much space as I’ve spent ripping into this movie, I didn’t hate it. I was mostly just unimpressed. It’s not a hard movie to watch, as the pacing is quite good and the story flow is mostly strong. The setting and the music are actually pretty great, and there are definitely a few good scenes. Joker isn’t a bad movie, but it’s gotten more than enough praise, and most of its interesting ideas were done better in the Telltale videogame series (so far the only “sympathetic Joker” that worked for me).
6. The Irishman (***)
Imagine that in some alternate time-line, Stephen Spielberg never really moved on from “Jaws.” Imagine that he decided to make one shark movie after another, always using the same actors. As this bizarre obsession with shark movies continues for decades, the public loses interest, until Spielberg is chastising audiences for watching superhero movies and not paying enough attention to his super-deep shark stories.
That’s pretty much where Martin Scorsese is right now. I still love Shutter Island and Silence, but when it comes to crime movies, he probably needs to give it a rest. We get it, man… you love gangsters (and similar low-lifes) who drop F-bombs every 3 words and inhabit a completely amoral universe. It’s not that deep!
I bring this up because it’s my first major knock against The Irishman. It’s essentially the same movie that Scorsese has made several times. But aside from the thematic repetition and ludicrous 3.5-hour run-time, I don’t have any major criticisms of the movie.
So if you have a lot of time on your hands, and you don’t mind Scorsese doing his usual shtick, The Irishman is actually pretty good. The story follows a Teamsters union official who claimed that he was secretly a hitman responsible for the murder of Jimmy Hoffa. This is probably not true. Frank Sheeran did have connections to organized crime, but there is no proof that he ever killed anyone. It seems more likely that he just fantasized about being one of those mafia “tough guys.” And now I’ve forgotten if we’re talking about the subject of the movie or its director…
OK, I’ll stop ragging on Scorsese for a minute (it’s just so easy!), because The Irishman actually is a solid movie with good dialogue and great actors. The standout is Al Pacino, who uses a very interesting voice and demeanor while portraying the cranky old union leader. He made me care about Hoffa a lot, despite being of a generation that just knows him as “some guy who disappeared.” There are also more than a few GREAT scenes, such as Robert Deniro debating what type of gun to use in a hitjob, or a long party scene in which various characters try to convince Hoffa to support his mafia benefactors. There’s also a fun “Forest Gump” aspect to the plot, as the characters stumble through various historical events (again, likely all fictionalized). The epilogue portions of the story are quite touching, as the retired hitman tries to make peace with his monstrous actions… and only gets half-way there at best.
If you’ve never seen a Scorsese epic, or are thirsting for a new one, The Irishman will do just fine. But if you’ve already seen Casino, Goodfellas, Mean Streets, Gangs of New York, and similarly-themed movies like Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Wolf of Wallstreet… you might already have your fill.
5. Parasite (*** and a half)
“It’s so metaphorical!”
I had a rather negative take on the 2013 dystopian thriller Snowpiercer, which I found silly and sophomoric. Thus, I wasn’t terribly excited to hear that Bong Joon-ho had decided to skip the thinly-veiled metaphors and just make a straight-up commentary on income inequality.
The plot concerns a poor family in South Korea (The Kims) who con their way into the household of a rich family (The Parks). In doing so, they commit a variety of crimes, and even screw over other working-class people with no remorse. Are we supposed to sympathize with the Kims? It’s hard to say. The film doesn’t really have a protagonist. Nonetheless, this story is at least mildly amusing, as the fast-talking paupers easily trick some very gullible rich folks.
The second act of the story, which is mostly one long scene, is where the movie actually hits greatness. Dark secrets of the Park house are revealed, things get really weird, and there’s a lot of tense and farcical action as the Kims desperately try to conceal their secret. The scenes of the con artists hiding and tiptoeing around the house are expertly directed and filmed, and the dramatic second-act finale (a natural disaster) is an unexpected gut-punch.
But… then we get to the ending, which lost me. The answer to every question the intriguing plot presents is “income inequality.” How did such a clever and resourceful family end up poor in the first place? Income inequality. Why would characters needlessly resort to murder? Income inequality. Does the “dark secret” really have no connection to the Kims or the Parks? Um… they’re connected by income inequality! Are people really dumb enough to not realize that locking themselves in a basement indefinitely is essentially the same thing as going to prison, if not worse? It’s so metaphorical of income inequality!
Also, this is a nitpick, but the subtitles are somewhat odd, and don’t sound natural.
In summary, Parasite is an entertaining and well-directed movie, but it’s also one of those movies where the message eventually overwhelms the story (though most of the film is not political). Perhaps if you’re totally down with the director’s world-view, you’ll find it poignant and brilliant, but such a pre-requisite is not a good sign for any movie.
4. Marriage Story (*** and a half)
When I first heard that one of the most acclaimed films of the year was about a New York writer who divorces a Hollywood actress, I wasn’t thrilled. Didn’t I already see this movie (and the original play)? Wasn’t it called “My Ex-Wife, the Musical!”
So it was a pleasant surprise to find that Marriage Story is very grounded, very believable, and doesn’t lecture us on how tough it is being rich and famous(*cough*A Star is Born*cough*). The central couple are portrayed as middle class normal people, despite the fact that one of them has a show on Broadway.
Marriage Story is hard to describe because it’s very low-concept. Nothing about the plot or premise is particularly great, so you just have to trust that the acting and writing will hold everything together. Fortunately, the acting and writing actually is quite great, and allows the film to alternate between tragic, funny, hopeful, and uncomfortable. Marriage Story is a believable and engaging story of a couple going through divorce that makes you sympathize with both sides. It becomes clear that neither the husband or the wife are going to “win.” The only winners are the divorce lawyers.
That brings me to Laura Dern’s character, who’s the closest thing the film has to a villain. While the main characters originally try to split amicably without lawyers, the wife is persuaded by someone she barely knows to hire an aggressive lawyer. Adam Driver, the husband, keeps trying to believe the best about his spouse, but eventually is forced into an arms race in which has to hire “his own asshole.” As Alan Alda says, “Criminal lawyers see bad people at their best. Family lawyers see good people at their worst.”
Marriage Story isn’t a fun movie, but it’s a well-written and well-acted drama of a painful and common transition in life. I’m not entirely sure what Baumbach’s thesis is (which speaks to the thoughtful ambiguity of the script), but hopefully it can inspire us all to be more generous, an hold onto the marriages we’ve worked to build.
3. Jojo Rabbit (****)
What if Hitler was your imaginary friend? This is the high-concept premise behind Jojo Rabbit, a weird dark comedy from the director of Thor: Ragnorok.
Main character Jojo is a paradoxical combination of innocence and racism. He’s been raised in an era in which “everyone” knows that Jews are bad and that Hitler is good, so he goes along with a childlike enthusiasm. “Adolph” is his imaginary version of Hitler: a funny, bumbling, and ultimately kind and supportive version of the famous dictator (the real Adolph Hitler never appears in the film). Adolph is one of the film’s best conceits, and a character I wished we could have seen more of in the 1st act, which is a bit slow.
The plot gets more interesting with the introduction of a hidden Jewish girl, and the film ultimately becomes a complex coming-of-age story in which the protagonist has to come to grips with reality: his country is losing the war, the real Hitler doesn’t have his best interest at heart, and Dad isn’t coming home. It’s sad, funny, disturbing, and hopeful all at the same time. Oddly enough, the Nazis are some of the funniest characters, with special mention to Stephen Merchant as a very tall SS officer, and Sam Rockwell as a sympathetic veteran hiding his own personal secrets.
Jojo Rabbit is a winner, and perfectly embodies the complex and unique brand of humor I appreciated in the good parts of Thor: Ragnorok (i.e. all the parts that didn't involve the central villain). I may have to check out more of Taika Waititi’s work.
2. Ford v. Ferrari (****)
I had no interest in this movie before it came out. I don’t care about race cars, I think “gearhead” stuff is totally boring, and the only racing event I could name is the Indy 500. And yet, I was 100% invested in watching Christian Bale race cars I’ve never cared about in a race I’ve never heard of. That’s what I’m talking about when I say that a great movie shouldn’t come with pre-requisites.
Ford v. Ferrari is a classically-good movie. It doesn’t have an ambitious artistic agenda, there’s no attempt to be “edgy” or “important”, and nary a hint of politics in sight. It’s just a good movie filled with good writing, good actors, and one good scene after another.
The plot takes place in the 60’s, as the Ford motor company seeks to upgrade its public image. In an effort to make their average-Joe cars cool again, Ford execs suggest merging with Ferrari in order to acquire their famed racing team. When Mr. Ferrari spits in their faces, Henry Ford’s grandson goes on the warpath, throwing millions of dollars at a dream of building a faster car. Matt Damon plays Carol Shelby, a designer looking for a new challenge ever since his weak heart stopped his own racing career, and Christian Bale plays a talented but volatile driver with no mouth filter. The set-up for this plot is clean and clear, the characters are relatable and likeable, and the conflicts are strong without being melodramatic.
The racing scenes are particularly good and well-directed. Every scene is enthralling, gripping, and perfectly illustrated. Again, I didn’t even care about this stuff, and I was totally engaged. There’s also a lot of touching scenes, such as a boy discussing the dangers of his father’s career, and Mr. Ford being brought to tears over the intensity of his own creations.
You just have to see this movie. It’s hard to explain its quality until you see it. I was very skeptical, but Ford v. Ferrari really is that good.
1. 1917 (*****)
Hold on a second… A Best Picture nominee that actually lives up to the hype? Is that still allowed?
I’ll jump to the punchline: 1917 should have won Best Picture. It blows everything else out of the water. It’s brilliantly filmed, acted, and plotted, and is the most engaging and convincing movie of the set. It’s not just a movie, it’s an experience!
The story of 1917 is pretty simple: a soldier is informed that his brother’s unit is walking into a trap, and is sent to deliver a message. That’s it. The rest of the movie consists of the main characters walking across an apocalyptic landscape, desperately trying to save their comrades before time runs out. This might sound boring, but the journey actually moves quite quickly, rapidly traversing through craters, tunnels, abandoned farms, burned-out towns, and more, and hitting just about every possible obstacle along the way. It’s a true adventure in every sense of the word.
This brings me to the subject of the film’s cinematography. Like Birdman and Rope before it, 1917 is made to appear as one uninterrupted shot. 1917 is the best implementation of this concept, and harkens back to the thrilling action scenes of Children of Men. The seamless nature of the filming makes perfect sense because it puts the audience on the journey with the main characters. Never once will you cut away to see what else is happening in the world. You’re trapped on the battlefield, and feel the weight of a ticking clock as the heroes rush towards the goal. The final stretch of the film is particularly tense, as we navigate the chaos of a trench, knowing that the goal is around the corner, but can’t seem to find it.
1917 is the best movie of 2019. It’s thrilling, emotional, and technically flawless. I normally wouldn’t be upset about a pretty-good movie like Parasite taking the top prize, but it pales compared to 1917.
(Yes, I know I skipped one nominee.)