For what is now the fourth year in a row, I have made the poor decision to watch every movie nominated for Best Picture before the Oscars. As this year demonstrated, this is a tradition that brings with it plenty of pain, bad movies, and despair about the recognition of these bad movies. This year’s crop is especially fascinating for the disparity between its best honorees (spectacular and miraculous that they ended up in the conversation) and its worst (atrocious, despicable paeans to the kind of movie that gets lavished with praise nowadays), and is, as always, a reminder that these awards mean absolutely nothing. Let’s get into it:
Tier 4B: A Note on a War Crime
Tier 4B contains just one movie, which manages to stand out among its awful brethren to the degree of deserving an entirely separate sub-tier.
10: Don’t Look Up (Adam McKay)
Without question the worst of the worst, once-important filmmaker Adam McKay (of righteous Anchorman and Talladega Nights acclaim) continues his long, strange journey up his own ass with this bombastic celebration of his own genius, a crowning achievement in smug incompetence disguised as moral elevation. Don’t Look Up decides that the issue with climate change is that the general populace has not been yelled at about it by private jet-flying celebrities enough, and proceeds to fashion two and a half hours of shrill, obnoxious, one-note satire around the idea that it’s doing the lord’s work on this important issue. Its built-in defense against good-faith criticisms of its utter ineptitude at actually, y’know, being a movie is the bad-faith idea that anyone taking issue with its clumsy execution must disagree with its premise (which is, in its entirety: “climate change… someone should do something about that, huh?”). So allow me to state, clearly, the following: climate change is a massive issue, maybe our second most pressing one in the world today, behind of course “what is in the water in Hollywood that possessed so many well-respected people to think any of this was okay?”. The cherry on top is that this wretched fart of a movie, which decides to coast on nothing but its moral high ground, features one of the most sickening performances I’ve ever seen in Mark Rylance’s tech billionaire character, the joke of which is clearly just “Heh heh guys, this weirdo has autism! Isn’t that soooo funny?”. I can’t wait for the show to be over so this disgusting, infuriating screed can be lost to time like it deserves.
Tier 4A: *Fart Noises*
This is the tier where the regular old run-of-the-mill crapulence gets its due. There are two movies here, very aligned in quality (or lack thereof), and which I resent the Oscars for forcing me to watch. Or maybe I resent myself for it. These are dire times.
9: Belfast (Kenneth Branagh)
Set at the onset of The Troubles in Northern Ireland, Kenneth Branagh’s passion project is limp, painfully boring, and bafflingly unwilling to engage with its complex setting beyond the idea of “isn’t religion so silly?”. Mostly this is just standard coming of age fodder, painfully directed and performed, bathed in ugly digital black and white, constantly cutting to better movies only to brutally pull the rug out from under you and remind you what you’re watching. There are 40 Van Morrison songs in this and not one of them is used well. It blows, folks.
8: Coda (Sian Heder)
Similar to Don’t Look Up, the defense for this turgid crap is that it features several actual deaf people in significant roles. Also similar to Don’t Look Up, this hides the fact that this movie sucks butt, and actually has very little to say about its subject matter. Rather than meaningfully engaging with the subject of deafness at its center, Coda sets up a conflict in which the hearing main character has to hide her passion for – get this – music, because her deaf family (lol) doesn’t like music. BECAUSE THEY CAN’T HEAR IT. This is written, directed, and performed like a fake movie, which is because it is a fake movie. If this wins, which is looking like an actual possibility, it will be one of the worst winners of all time, and not enough people are making a big deal out of this. The most unremarkable movie in any way but in how spectacularly it falls on its face, almost playing like a parody of a movie that gets raves at Sundance. Being held up as a triumph of indie filmmaking and word of mouth when in reality it only has any buzz because Apple spent billions of dollars in ads to prop up its front of a streaming service. Let this thing die, please, and watch the genuinely insightful and well-made Sound of Metal instead.
Tier 3: The Ether
This tier contains 2 movies, both deeply forgettable for different reasons. One is bad with a lot going for it, and one is completely fine with absolutely nothing going for it. These are the two movies I keep forgetting I’ve seen.
7: Nightmare Alley (Guillermo Del Toro)
Here’s the one that’s bad with a lot going for it. Nightmare Alley is undeniably beautiful, featuring a compelling central turn from Bradley Cooper, and some searing visuals and ideas. It’s also monstrously overlong and weirdly hollow in the same way The Shape of Water was, but drawn out to a painful degree in a way that makes it harder to hide. Such a shame, because there’s so much here that works, but soooo much that simply doesn’t.
6: King Richard (Reinaldo Marcus Green)
A perfectly fine, by-the-numbers sports biopic that you’ve seen, give or take, five thousand times before. Will Smith is pretty good in it, but it’s not a great sign when your movie focusing on the behind-the-scenes rise of widely celebrated figures is far better when it’s focusing on said widely celebrated figures.
Tier 2: It’s Pretty Good!
Tier 2 contains one movie, which happens to be the season-long favorite to take the whole thing. I’m here to tell you the following: It’s pretty good!
5: The Power of the Dog (Jane Campion)
Almost frustratingly not-great, The Power of the Dog contains strong performances from its four central performers (Benedict Cumberbatch, Kirsten Dunst, Jesse Plemons, and Kodi Smit-McPhee, all nominated), striking cinematography, and a banner score from one of the greatest working film composers (Jonny Greenwood). It never really combines those elements to reach the full potential of the sum of its parts, but that sum is astronomical, and the fact that it falls short isn’t really an indictment. If it ends up winning, it will be a perfectly fine winner, and also (I’m pretty sure) the only Best Picture winner to contain a graphic cattle castration scene.
Tier 1B: Oh Hell Yeah
There are, by my count, four movies in this years slate that are full-on masterpieces. I have decided to split them up, not to diminish the bottom two, but to underline the quality of the top two. So here’s the start of the good stuff:
4: Dune (Denis Villeneuve)
When I went into Dune, my expectations were on the floor. I was on record as a Villeneuve skeptic who disliked his Blade Runner movie and believed him to be too ephemeral in his strengths to handle long, overarching narratives. And then I left Dune ready to watch the next two and a half hours on the spot. This movie is a miracle, a nearly perfect sci-fi spectacle that wrangles its many threads into a coherent and emotionally involving whole. A stunning sensory experience wholly deserving of the praise and attention, a barnburner made within the demands of the studio system that breathes new life into big-budget filmmaking.
3: West Side Story (Steven Spielberg)
Likewise, I had my doubts about Spielberg’s update of the original classic, a movie I adore. The first look gave a much more beige picture of the film than I would’ve liked based on the vibrancy of the original. Then he stepped up to the plate with his most vibrant and exciting film since… Juassic Park? Close Encounters of the Third Kind? Ever? This thing is just incredible. Absolutely captivating from the first frame to the last, perhaps an improvement over the original in kind of every way. The performances are stunning, in accordance with the movie’s spirit of reverence yet improvement. You forget that Spielberg has this talent in him, almost, but watching it actually play out feels like nobody else could’ve pulled it off. One of his very best films, and one of the highlights of the year.
Tier 1A: Oh HELL Yeah
This is the tier with the very best of the best, two films whose nominations I consider reasons for the continued existence of the academy. Everyone should see these movies, and their presence in this group makes it far more likely that people will.
2: Drive My Car (Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
I’ve written at length about both this movie and how cool it is that it’s nominated. So I’ll just reiterate quickly that Ryusuke Hamaguchi, one of the most exciting voices in contemporary global cinema, made a stunning masterpiece that’s totally antithetical to everything the Oscars have ever been and it worked its way to a Best Picture nod by sheer virtue of being great. And because of this, more people will find his work, and he will have greater reign to do whatever he would like in the near future. And that, to me, is the true victory of these awards. Whatever crap is in the back half of this list, it’s all worth it if things like Drive My Car can get in the conversation.
1: Licorice Pizza (Paul Thomas Anderson)
25 years ago, Paul Thomas Anderson made Boogie Nights, a masterpiece of American cinema that still stands as one of the foremost examples of artistic genius you can produce from this country’s recent history. This past year, Anderson made Licorice Pizza, a masterpiece that provides evidence for the continued existence of brilliant Hollywood filmmaking. In between these two movies, he made 6 films, all of which are (guess what) masterpieces. Getting blessed with new Anderson feels too good to be true, and it just so happens that Licorice Pizza is another totally singular entry in his remarkable oeuvre. Light and fun yet resonant and satisfying, this is one of the best films of the year.
And so concludes the rundown of the best picture slate from 2021. Maybe next year will be the year I decide to stop doing this to myself.
The Movie Files 