For the most part, the 94th Academy Awards ceremony, things went the way the Oscars normally go, To my pleasant surprise, the three-pronged attack of hosts Amy Schumer, Regina Hall and Wanda Sykes worked really well, with the telecast allowing them to shine as a group but also as individuals. CODA won the three awards it was nominated for, which is a big deal when you understand that those three awards were Best Supporting Actor, Best Original Screenplay and Best Picture. There were moving speeches and celebrations of films that made a lot of sense (the 50th anniversary of The Godfather) and significantly less sense (the 28th anniversary of Pulp Fiction). There was a star-studded version of Encanto‘s “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” that was, at best, confusing. There were laughs and tears and too much cheese and shrimp consumed by one particular person watching from home. It was a typical Oscars night, and considering I think of the ceremony the way people think of the Super Bowl, that was a good thing.
So, I’ve been predicting the nomination, and I’ve been feeling strangely good about my picks, which is almost a guarantee that I’m going to crash and burn Sunday night. But, while I have given my predictions for what I thought would win and be nominated, I haven’t said what my personal nominees would have been had the Oscars been left up to me, which seems like a pretty great idea, now that I think about it.
So, here is what I would have nominated. Leaving out a few categories out (International Feature, all shorts, Best Documentary) because I don’t feel like I’ve seen enough to make a well-educated group of nominees.
Last year’s Oscars ceremony was such a spectacular blunder, if you tried to make a movie out of it, no studio would release it because of how unbelievable it was. And there was no better example of that than the trainwreck that was how the ceremony ended.
Paul Thomas Anderson hasn’t made a bad movie, and I don’t think he could if he tried. Well, I mean maybe if he tried. He could keep the camera out of focus or give all the actors shrooms or make a shot-for-shot remake of Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice. And Licorice Pizza, Anderson’s ninth film (and the third nominated for Best Picture) is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a bad movie. It’s anchored in two amazing lead performances (neither of whom have acted before) and has very funny and touching moments and definitely has a light and easy feel with which Anderson drives the film effortlessly.
But Licorice Pizza does have one big problem. Perhaps, more accurately, the movie has two problems rolled into one. The first has to do with the core of the relationship between the film’s two main characters. And the second is the film’s (and filmmaker’s) complete lack of interest in even wanting to address the first problem. If this sounds layered and confusing, it shouldn’t surprise you.
It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I’m a BIG Batman fan. In fact, I’ve been one for as much of my life as I can remember. From being a little kid in the ’70s & ’80s watching Superfriends while eating a bowl of cereal. Watching the old Adam West Classic 1966 TV series, to running home from high school just so I can make it home in time to catch Batman the animated series. Up until yesterday, if anyone had asked me what I think the best Batman movie ever made was, I would’ve said the 1989 film BATMAN directed by Tim Burton. He was the first filmmaker to capture the dark knight that my friends and I had been reading about in the comics. But last night, after the DC special “FAN-FIRST” private screening of the Matt Reeves film “THE BATMAN“, my world was completely rocked.
With Matt Reeves’ The Batman headed to theaters this weekend, we welcome Robert Pattinson into the role of Bruce Wayne. I think Bobby Patts is going to do a good job and am excited to see it. But instead of looking forward to this new film, I decided to look back.
Let’s reflect on the dozen theatrical releases of Batman and see how they shape up. Will this new Pattinson Bats (Pats Bats?) be remembered like Keaton or Bale? Or will we be yearning for the days of bat-nipples?