Oscar Countdown: Four Films

Frances McDormand first showed up on my film radar in the year 2000, appearing as a character actress in two films that are still among my favorites, Wonder Boys and Almost Famous. It was not her presence that made those films great, but it didn't hurt. She had already cemented herself in the public eye three years earlier with an Oscar turn in Fargo. In time she began to take on the stature of a later-day Jack Nicholson, playing variations on her own idiosyncratic self in film after film, most of which I didn't see.

It was a major triumph for her to hold that over-the-top train wreck of a film, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, together. I liked it quite a bit.

Film-goers who have been avoiding Nomadland for fear of similar excesses can rest assured: it's a lovely, elegiac film full of nice people, gorgeous desert landscapes, and sketches of a simple but atavistically attractive way of life, all of which are anchored in the contours of McDormand's craggy face.

A few days after seeing the film, I could hardly tell you what happened. The love interest was tepid, and the most dramatic "turn" had something to do with exorbitant repairs to the minivan. The seasonal employment at Amazon almost looked attractive to me, though that may be because I spent twenty years working in a book warehouse myself; and the director, Chloé Zhao, has made life in a van look fairly appealing. Here again, my personal predilection for desert camping may have come into play. In short, Nomadland works well, like a atmospheric European film, as a haunting portrait of decent but often damaged or grieving people who have chosen a variety of alternative healing paths. Less ambitious than the vaguely similar Into the Wild, for example, it presents itself on the screen as a tone poem rather than an opera. More movies like this, please!  (Best Actress, Director, Editor, Adapted Screenplay, Cinematography) 

One Night in Miami consists largely of an extended conversation in a motel room between Cassius Clay (soon to become Muhammad Ali) and three friends—NFL running back Jim Brown, popular singer and impresario Sam Cooke, and political activist Malcolm X. It bristles with wit while digging deep into the obstacles and options facing eminent black men in those days (and also today). It's also a hell of a lot of fun to watch. (Best Supporting Actor: Leslie Odom Jr.)

Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, also based on a play, is "stagier" and less inspired, like drinking a mug of dark coffee that's simply too bitter. We soon adjust to the theatrical voicing of the characters, and the basement conversations between the musicians carry a lively spark, but Ma Rainey herself is difficult to like, the studio personnel hardly emerge from cardboard cut-out status, and the racial indictments, though well-founded, lack nuance. The silver lining is that the film is hardly more than an hour long. (Viola Davis: Best Actress; Chadwick Boseman: Best Actor)

Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. I have never seen a Will Ferrell film before, and might never see one again, but this mostly charming comedy/farce about an Icelandic duo who stumble into contention at the massive Eurovision contest is bolstered by the presence of Rachael McAdams, the silliness of its faux accents and folkloric Icelandic clichés, and lots of high-energy performances by various Euro-pop groups that I'd never heard of until I looked them up, including Lordi, Alexander Rybak, Conchita Wurst, and Netta. (Best Song)