The Spotify Blues: My Favorite 2021 Albums

In the preamble to my annual favorite albums list, I usually ponder my music-listening trends from the past year. I suppose I will continue that, uh, trend of analyzing my trends this year. Back in 2017, I noticed that I wasn't listening to as much new music as I usually did. In 2018, the album was dead... only for it to be revived in 2019. Then last year was the year of the female artist. So what's the trend this year? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I regret to inform you that the album is dead yet again. Don't get me wrong—there was a lot of good music released this year, but I think the way I consume music has been irrevocably changed due to several factors. One is that I spend a lot less quality time with music than I used to. For example, I almost never listen to music through headphones anymore, meaning it's more or less just on in the background while I'm working. That intimate connection to music listened through headphones is impossible to replace. I also don't drive nearly as much as I used to (and I can't even blame COVID—I started working from home even before the pandemic), and when I do drive, I usually listen to sports radio (or the actual radio). My days of getting to know an album during my commute or a long drive are mostly over. And finally, of course, there's Spotify, which makes it so easy for you to just set a playlist on shuffle (unless you're Adele). Plus, you know, the whole lack of physical media thing, which might even be the biggest factor of all—call it the Spotify blues. All of which is to say, of the 20 albums I'm going to write about here, there are only maybe a handful that I know front to back as an album—the track order, the peaks and valleys, the topography of the 35-45 minutes of sonic terrain. The others are mostly underexplored territories, the few songs I love the only plotted areas, with the rest largely points unknown. With some of these albums, I only know the titles of a few songs; and, shit, if I'm being honest I don't even have the names of some of the albums themselves memorized. They don't feel like albums to me, merely playlist fodder, the means by which those few important songs are delivered. It's a damned shame, really—but I don't know what I can do about it. That's a much bigger conversation than I'm prepared to have right now. Instead, I'll settle for telling you a little about the music I dug most in 2021. And there was a lot of it, even if I didn't listen to a lot of these as actual albums.

Honorable Mentions (in alphabetical order):

Brandi Carlile – In These Silent Days

iluminati hotties – Let Me Do One More

Jetty Bones – Push Back

The Killers – Pressure Machine

Lucy Dacus – Home Video

The Might Mighty Bosstones – When God Was Great

Nervous Dater – Call in the Mess

Son Volt – Electro Melodier

Strand of Oaks – In Heaven

10) Japanese Breakfast – Jubilee / Snail Mail – Valentine (tie)

Best tracks: "Be Sweet," "Slide Tackle," "Posing for Cars" / "Valentine," "Ben Franklin," "Glory"

It's perhaps a bit unfair to lump these two albums together, but they're quite similar sonically and I had an incredibly similar experience with both. Music-wise, both Japanese Breakfast and Snail Mail are in same vein as acts like Hop Along and Soccer Mommy—incredible female singer-songwriters who effortlessly flit between the abstract and the intimate and fit under the wide indie-rock umbrella. Here, both Michelle Zauner and Lindsey Jordan unleash a collection of songs that can feel as expansive as the galaxy and as intimate as the bedroom. I had heard of both of these artists prior to these albums, but I was drawn into both releases by their absolute bangers of lead singles—"Be Sweet" and "Valentine," respectively. Both are among my favorite songs of the year. But, and this will come as absolutely no surprise, I found that the albums themselves didn't quite live up to the promise of the lead singles. (This will be a bit of a theme in this list.) Both tend to lose me a bit in the middle with some samey-sounding stretches that always tended to drift by in a blur with nothing to draw me out of my grading haze. That's absolutely a flaw in the attention I gave to these albums rather than a knock on the music itself, but I'm just being honest. But these are both accomplished, expertly crafted albums that I wish I was just a *little* more drawn into.

9) Chvrches – Screen Violence

Best tracks: "Final Girl," "Good Girls," "Lullabies"

I've always liked Chvrches (which I always say in my head—and often out loud—as "Chiv-urches"), but for some reason they've never graduated out of the periphery of my musical interests. Which is strange, as Metric is one of my favorite bands ever and they have a very similar sound. Their debut got an honorable mention in a category in 2013, back when I sometimes did a Grammys-style blog post. I don't think I listened to their second album much, but their third album had "Deliverance," which landed at #14 in my top 20 songs of 2018 list (linked above). Their latest seems like it's getting a similar treatment, landing here at #9—even though it might be my favorite of their releases. A big part of that is that I'm still getting to know it as an album. It came out at the end of August and I didn't start regularly listening to it until the last month or so when "Final Girl" nearly knocked me out of my chair while I was working one afternoon. Like all of their previous singles I've liked, it's got an absolute MONSTER chorus, and it doesn't hurt that Lauren Mayberry has one of the best voices around. That one, "Good Girls," and "Lullabies"—aka the three "best tracks" listed above—all appear right in a row near the end of the album, but much of the rest of the album is a bit of a (very pleasant) haze. I hope to get to know it better with more listens—who knows, this placement might look comically low in another couple years. Or it might be like the rest of their discography and remain firmly in the "like, don't love" category for whatever reason. We shall have to see.

8) Dave Hause – Blood Harmony

Best tracks: "Sandy Sheets," "Hanalei," "Gary," "Carry the Lantern"

One of my rituals in this Age of Spotify that we're all in is to go through the New Releases page on Spotify every Friday, as well as the (even better) "Release Radar" playlist it creates for you. I then add all new albums that pique my interest to one playlist, and all the singles to a different playlist. So one random Friday, I was happy to see a new single from Dave Hause, the once lead singer of the defunct Philadelphia punk band The Loved Ones. I added that song to my singles playlist. That song was "Sandy Sheets." I haven't yet decided on my song of the year yet, but "Sandy Sheets" is a major contender—likely the top contender. I probably listened to it five times in a row, and a few dozen more times before the album it appears on even came out. It's just a perfectly earnest little jangle-pop ditty about looking back on the summers of your youth. Like a lot of what Hause/The Loved Ones have done, it couldn't be any more in my wheelhouse—it even name drops the Gin Blossoms (only one of my all-time favorite bands) in the refrain: "You had 'Hey Jealousy' on repeat." Later references are changed to The Cure and The Bouncing Souls(!). But like the albums tied at #10, the album itself wasn't *quite* as good as I was hoping it would be. (I told you this would be a theme.) It just seems a bit too keen to remain in the same tempo and emotional register. It reminds me a bit of late-period Gaslight Anthem or any of Brian Fallon's indistinguishable solo stuff. You're just left wanting a bit more. That said, I do prefer Hause's solo stuff to Fallon's, and this is an album I like a lot. I just can't help but imagine an album of gems like "Sandy Sheets" instead of one with this much felt lining.

7) The Wallflowers – Exit Wounds

Best tracks: "Maybe Your Heart's Not In It No More," "Roots and Wings," "Move the River," "Who's That Man Walking 'Round My Garden"

We're now firmly in the "dad rock" portion of this list (a stark contrast to last year's female-centric list). You can argue about whether the Dave Hause record is truly dad rock—I say not quite but wouldn't argue too vociferously against you—but there's no questioning the dad rock bona fides of The Wallflowers. Hell, they're legacy dad rockers given Jakob Dylan's parentage. But there ain't nothing wrong with that. Even though I don't have any kids, I'm 38 years old, prime dad rock age. And my all-time favorite band is Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, so if liking dad rock is wrong, I don't wanna be right. I think a big part of why I like this record so much—having not really gotten into much The Wallflowers have done since Bringing Down the Horse—is that it sounds a lot like a Heartbreakers record. There's a little Mike Campbell jangle in the guitars, there's a cool steadiness to the keys that's reminiscent of Benmont Tench, and Dylan has always shared a similar cadence with Petty (as did his dad). This record just sounds like a group of consummate musicians just letting loose in the studio, like a lot of the late-period Heartbreakers records. Try to tell me that "Roots and Wings" doesn't sound like it could've been on the She's the One soundtrack, or that "Move the River" isn't a lost B-side from the Hypnotic Eye sessions. Petty comparisons aside, this record makes me want to dive deeper into The Wallflowers' discography. I LOVE Bringing Down the Horse (it's a top-10 '90s album for me), and there are a few songs I dig on Breach. Time to check out the rest in earnest in 2022?

6) Hiss Golden Messenger – Quietly Blowing It

Best tracks – "Hardlytown," "If It Comes in the Morning," "Glory Strums (The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner)," "Sanctuary"

Hiss Golden Messenger was (wass?) largely a new artist to me this year. I think I was vaguely familiar with the name but had never really paid the band much mind (I may have thought it was a Christian group or something). This year, they vaulted into the top-5 artists I listened to in 2021 (if not quite the top-5 of this list). A lot of that is on the strength of "Sanctuary," one of the songs I listened to the very most this last year and a contender for song of the year. It's a mid-tempo number with a '70s A.M. radio vibe—strumming acoustic guitar, tinkling keys, meandering bass line. It expertly threads the needle between optimism ("Steady with your hope now / That little light's gotta last a while") and cynicism ("Get used to thе bad news / It's all part of the show, child"), which really hit home for me in a 2021 that's been tough for everyone. Like the rest of the album, it gives off a vibe of a bunch of flanneled dudes jamming out on a porch somewhere. Elsewhere on the album, the occasional horns ("Way Back") or harmonica ("Hardlytown," "Glory") pop up—there are some definite Neil Young/America/Laurel Canyon vibes. (Talk about dad rock.) It also reminds me a bit of one of my favorite Decemberists records, The King Is Dead, another '70s throwback affair. Maybe the best solution to trying times is to get out of the decade entirely, just like the next band on this list.

5) The War on Drugs – I Don't Live Here Anymore

Best tracks – "Harmonia's Dream," "Change," "I Don't Wanna Wait," "I Don't Live Here Anymore," "Wasted"

We've got more Heartbreakers comparisons incoming here—there's more than a little of their influence on the latest from The War on Drugs. I'm thinking specifically of the Let Me Up (I've Had Enough) album, the most quintessentially '80s-sounding Heartbreakers record largely due to Mike Campbell's co-production. (He also co-produced the Don Henley classic "Boys of Summer" in this period, which feels like an influence here as well.) There are so many 1980s influences on this record that the title might as well be referring to the current decade—Adam Granduciel and Co. may as well have departed from the 2020s and gone back to the 1980s with all the influences on display here—Heartbreakers, Springsteen, Dire Straits, even Phil Collins/Genesis. But I Don't Live Here Anymore is far more than a pastiche of 1980s radio rock—it's a triumphant, arena-ready pop-rock masterpiece, more actual songs than soundscapes like some of their other recent stuff (which I still very much dig). This album couldn't have come at a better time, now that live music is starting to come back into our lives. I'm incredibly bitter that the closest they'll come to Arizona is L.A. (I am dubious about the "Request a Show" button at the bottom of the tour page on their website.) I saw them once before at the Van Buren and it was a transcendent experience. I can't imagine how amazing some of these tracks would be live—the gang vocals on "Dream," the elegant outro on "Change," the absolutely massive guitars on "Wait," the shimmering keys on "Anymore," the manic energy of "Wasted." Maybe I need to get me out to L.A. in February...

4) The Hold Steady – Open Door Policy

Best tracks: "Spices," "Lanyards," "Family Farm," "Heavy Covenant," "Hanover Camera"

Are The Hold Steady dad rock? These are the kinds of questions I find myself asking in 2021. I don't think so, but they're definitely dad rock–adjacent. They're more like cool uncle rock, the kind of music a younger uncle would tell you about. Yeah, that sounds about right. Dad rock or not, I'm very glad to have a Hold Steady album ranked this highly. It's only their second album since 2014, and I was lukewarm on their previous effort, 2019's Thrashing Thru the Passion (which only merited an honorable mention that year for me, only somewhat due to the terrible title). I think maybe they just needed an album to work out the kinks with both guitarist Steve Selvidge and keys man Franz Nicolay in the fold at the same time. This is the biggest (maybe "fullest" would be more accurate) the band has ever sounded, with two lead guitarists, Nicolay's slinky keys, plentiful horns, and Craig Finn's whiskeyed musings holding forth over it all. This feels like a classic Hold Steady album for the first time since probably Stay Positive. (I like Heaven Is Whenever a whole lot, but there's a certain something lacking, and Teeth Dreams is a superior album to this for sure but is in a bit of a different vein than the classic THS sound.) This is another aces set of story-songs about old flames and vices ("Spices," the album highlight to me), Catholic school and rehab ("Farm"), dissatisfaction with modern life ("Covenant"), all the hits. Some of the references don't exactly land (Shark Week and Diet Dr. Pepper are mentioned), but that's just Craig Finn for you. I generally like his solo stuff, but I'm glad the best bar band in the world are up to their old tricks.

3) Tigers Jaw – I Won't Care How You Remember Me

Best tracks: "I Won't Care How You Remember Me," "Cat's Cradle," "Hesitation," "New Detroit," "Lemon Mouth"

Okay, we're definitely out of dad rock territory here. I think I have the right top ten (well, eleven) on this list, but I really struggled with the order of the top three. Any one of them is worthy of the top spot, and I actually had this one as #1 for a lot of the year, probably because it came out the earliest. Tigers Jaw has been on my radar for a long time, and I really love their cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Gypsy." Then I saw them open for fellow Scrantonites The Menzingers in late 2019, one of the last (if not the last) shows I saw before COVID hit, and several of the singles for this record were released in the next few months. So I was more than ready for this when it came out. And boy did it deliver on the promise of those fantastic lead singles. I'm not intimately familiar with their earlier albums (and I know the group has gone through some personnel turmoil), but this is easily their most polished, most honed album of emo-punk anthems. I was always struck by the song "June" from 2017's spin, and I was excited to see that part-time singer and keyboardist Breanna Collins is now taking on almost a co-lead singer role. The pseudo-ebullient "Cradle," Paramore-esque "Commit," and, especially, forlorn "Lemon Mouth" (which also has a great guitar solo by the band's bassist!) are all among the highlights of the album. But lead guitarist/vocalist Ben Walsh is no slouch either—he brings both a pop-punk and emo sensibility to his songs and his guitar provides a sturdy backbone for the album. This is *exactly* the kind of music I was into in college, and I'm glad it's still being made—and made so well—today.

2) Lucero – When You Found Me

Best tracks: "Have You Lost Your Way?," "Outrun the Moon," "Coffin Nails," "Good as Gone," "Back in Ohio"

Like The Hold Steady, Lucero is one of my all-time favorite bands. They're both probably in my top-10—and Lucero might be in my top-5. But I have a bit of a funky relationship to their oeuvre. Most fans adore their very early stuff, the dusty and country-tinged The Attic Tapes, Lucero, and Tennessee, which I have a hard time connecting with. Partially because of the low production value, but also because I only really got into the band with That Much Further West, when the band really figured out their sound and came into their own as songwriters and musicians. I adore that record, and the next two are fantastic as well (Nobody's Darlings and Rebels, Rogues & Sworn Brothers)—these three albums form kind of a second phase in the band's evolution and have a much more straightforward rock 'n' roll sound. But my favorite phase by far is the one that comprises 1372 Overton Park (their best and my favorite album), Women & Work, and All A Man Should Do (plus the sensational Texas & Tennessee EP), which all have an even bigger sound (horns!) and pristine production with also probably the best sad bastard ballads they've ever done. Anyway (this is making me want to write a whole post on Lucero—maybe some day), they're pretty clearly on their fourth phase now with this and 2018's Among the Ghosts: a kind of dark, Southern Gothic phase that sees the band at the height of their powers as musicians (albeit with a more stripped-down sound) and has some of Ben Nichols's most personal songwriting yet. There might not be a more underappreciated guitarist than Brian Venable, whose sensational, beautifully composed work sluices through the record like an fiery river (especially on the opening two tracks). Then there's keyboardist Rick Steff, whose keys and synths add a layer of cool ice ("Pull Me Close Don't Let Go," "Gone"). Finally, Nichols proves himself yet again as a masterful storyteller who explores both his family history ("Nails," ) and his personal life ("When You Found Me") with equal aplomb. My only quibble is with the production—Nichols constantly sounds like he's in a different room on a different floor than the rest of the band. (It was that way on Ghosts, too.) But this is still a great album by a great band that's still evolving after 20+ years. Oh, and it kills live, too—you're damned right the first real show I saw after COVID was Lucero!

1) Sincere Engineer – Bless My Psyche

Best tracks: "Trust Me," "Out of Reach," "Recluse in the Making," "Come Out for a Spell," "Coming in Last"

I considered each of the top three records here for #1, but ultimately went with the one I listened to most (perhaps because it's the shortest?). Here we have Sincere Engineer, a radical and raw punk act out of Chicago with one of the best band names I've heard in a while. They're also one of the best *bands* I've heard in a while—and one I had absolutely zero knowledge of before this year. I don't even know how they came up on my radar, actually—some stroke of Spotify algorithm luck. (Spotify isn't all bad.) If I had to guess, I'd say they probably came on autoplay after the Tigers Jaw—another Midwest punk-tinged act—album ended. However I first heard them, the first song I heard was almost definitely the raucous opening track "Trust Me" with its full-throated "I need I need I need I need heeeeelp!" chorus. It's a fucking major statement song—I mean, it starts with "This is my grand introduction," and I would be shocked if the drum kit was still standing after the beating it takes. But it immediately gives way to the lilting, downcast "Tourniquet" with gentle acoustic guitars in the verses, barely-there key accents, and Deanna Belos's gravelly, bittersweet vocals giving the somewhat-softer tune a decided edge. Then things kick into high gear with another one of my favorite tracks of the year, the sublime "Out of Reach." It's a more midtempo number, but the drumming still punishes, the keys are cranked up, there's a sick riff, and it's got one of my favorite choruses of the year. The album as a whole is a crisp, crackling 30-minute pop-folk-punk-emo jaunt that I've listened to as a whole far more than any other album this year, the very definition of all killer, no filler. I could keep going, describing the rest of the tracks like the first three—which is how I know this is the right album to put in the #1 spot. I'm not sure if this is one of those truly pantheonic albums I know I'll revisit countless times in the coming years—maybe this year is like 2019 where there isn't an album like that. But it feels right to give this scrappy album, the one I truly know best, front to back, where I'm already humming the beginning to the next track when one ends, the top spot in this year of the Spotify blues.

Bonus: My Top 10 Songs of 2021 (roughly in order):

"Sandy Sheets" – Dave Hause (the winner!)

"Final Girl" – Chvrches

"Sanctuary" – Hiss Golden Messenger

"Out of Reach" – Sincere Engineer

"Spices" – The Hold Steady

"Lemon Mouth" – Tigers Jaw

"I Don' Live Here Anymore" – The War on Drugs

"Be Sweet" – Japanese Breakfast

"Roots and Wings" – The Wallflowers

"Have You Lost Your Way?" – Lucero

Here's a link if you have the Spotify blues as well and want to check out a playlist of my favorite songs of the year. (As always, under 80 minutes like back in the mix CD days!)

Thanks, as always to anyone who reads this (although I mostly write these for myself). Here's hoping for another year of great music in 2022!

Pandemic Cinema: My 2020 Fake Oscars

With the Oscars being delayed until April this year, that means it's been well over a year since my last fake Oscars blog post. At the time of that post, we were on the cusp of an unprecedented and joyously unexpected Picture/Director/Original Screenplay triumph for Parasite, my favorite movie of 2019. Of course, we were also on the cusp of a global pandemic that has irrevocably changed the world, including massive changes to the film industry. After COVID hit in March of last year, I only went to a movie theater twice the rest of 2020—two times over the summer to see Tenet (I wasn't going to miss that experience, COVID be damned). Both times, I was one of only maybe a dozen people in the whole auditorium. But with the worst of the pandemic (hopefully) behind us and the vaccine being rolled out (I've already had both of my shots!), I've already been to the theater several times in 2021 to see some awards contenders—and, obviously Godzilla vs. Kong and Mortal Kombat. But the theaters have been still mostly empty, the lobby a ghost town. I truly don't know if the movie theater industry will ever fully recover, which would be such a huge loss, even if it makes sense on a pragmatic level.

All of which is to say that my film viewing habits were dramatically different than they ever have been last year. I watched about the same number of new movies as I usually do (around 100), but, obviously most of them were watched at home. From the comfort of my couch. With the lights on. With my cell phone at arm's length. With the ability to pause and rewind. This clearly isn't the way all movies should be watched, and I greatly wish I was able to watch more movies in the dark, silent, reverent space of a movie theater. I wonder if some of the... slower movies I thought were just okay (Mank and First Cow come to mind) would have made a bigger impact on me had I seen them in a theater. Another strange, unexpected impact is that I remember virtually nothing about the score of many of the films I saw—another casualty to home viewing. (For that reason, I won't be including the Best Score category I usually do. Maybe next year.)

In spite of all this, 2020 was still a pretty strong year for movies—a variegated, singular, strange year for movies, but a strong one nonetheless. My pandemic cinema top 10 has movies big and small (even if most movies seemed small this year), funny and serious (the best are a mix of both), theatrical and streaming. In other words, not too far off from a normal year for movies (especially with streaming movies becoming more and more common). And I'm just as excited to write this blog post as I would be in any other year. So let's get to it, longer-than-normal preamble out of the way. We'll start, as the real thing does, with the supporting performances. (Obviously, there may be mild spoilers for any of the films discussed below.)

Gold = winner

^ = nominated for a real Oscar

* = won a real Oscar

Best Supporting Actor

Sacha Baron Cohen – The Trial of the Chicago 7^

Daniel Kaluuya – Judas and the Black Messiah*

Leslie Odom Jr. – One Night in Miami...^

Mark Rylance – The Trial of the Chicago 7

Michael Stuhlbarg – Shirley

AMPAS didn't do too bad with this category, for the most part. The only two who missed the cut in my field were Paul Raci in Sound of Metal and Lakeith Stanfield in Judas. I quite liked Metal and thought Raci was very good, but I have to admit I didn't see anything Oscar-worthy in his unadorned performance. (Perhaps it was too naturalistic for me?) I said "for the most part" above because nominating Stanfield here is laughable—he's a he clear lead, and I believe he was even promoted as such in the lead-up to the nominations. AMPAS gonna AMPAS. (I also didn't see the hype in his just-fine performance.) But my field includes three actual Oscar nominees, including the winner, so let's start with them.

• Daniel Kaluuya was the frontrunner for the Oscar just about all awards season, and his win was one of the few unexpected results in the main categories on Sunday night. In his performance as slain Black Panther Fred Hampton, he balanced the fiery passion of Hampton's speeches with a tough tenderness in his scenes with Dominique Fishback as his girlfried, Deborah Johnson. Some of the speech scenes are just chill-inducing (and a built-in Oscar reel as well). The movie as a whole was more like, not love, for me—it's a relatively traditional biopic, which don't typically do it for me—but Kaluuya is absolutely sensational in it and easily snags a nomination here.
• His closest competition for the real statue was likely Sacha Baron Cohen, who at one point looked like the frontrunner here. Like everyone else in this category (unusual for me; see below), he erstwhile Borat also plays a historical figure: activist and Chicago 7 member Abbie Hoffman. I liked Sorkin's film (a lot) more than most, and Cohen's acerbic hippie-cum-agitator was a charismatic presence, delivering several Sorkin zingers with zest. He was the last name in my field, with stiff competition from Bill Murray (On the Rocks), Will Patton (Minari), Eli Goree (One Night in Miami...), and, yes, J.K. Simmons (Palm Springs).
• Speaking of Miami..., Aaron Burr himself also makes my field for his outstanding turn as Sam Cooke in Regina King's fictionalized meeting of Black leaders in the 1960s. Goree as Cassius Clay and Aldis Hodge as Jim Brown were both very good, but Leslie Odom Jr.'s scenes across from Kingsley Ben-Adir's Malcolm X put his performance on another level. So, too, does his singing, which provides some of the true highlights of the film (especially that a cappella scene). He seems a likely bet to someday add the O to his EGOT (he's already got the G and the T). Maybe a feature adaptation of Hamilton?
• That leaves us with two new nominees. The first is Cohen's Chicago 7 costar and previous Oscar winner, Mark Rylance. I wasn't necessarily a huge fan of him winning for Bridge of Spies (although I have been meaning to revisit that one), but I was won over right away by his portrayal of Bill Kunstler, a perfect balance of courtroom theatrics and world-weariness, and he's responsible for at least as many great moments as Cohen. The stage and screen veteran takes to Sorkin's material with aplomb and delivers a stirring performance that's among the best of the year. I'd have nominated him over Cohen (if there was only going to be one nominee from Chicago 7).
• My final nominee seems to have been largely forgotten by the time Oscar season came around, but this blog never forgets Michael Stuhlbarg, who always makes everything he's in better. In Shirley, he has the unenviable task of playing opposite a completely dialed-on Elisabeth Moss. He more than holds his own as a bemused, rather nefarious husband to Moss's eponymous Shirley Jackson—a feat not many actors could match. He doesn't get a ton of screentime, but he's absolutely magnetic in every scene he's in. How he hasn't at least been nominated for an Oscar yet in his career is beyond me (he was robbed for Call Me By Your Name, yo), but there is no such injustice here.

This was a tough category for me to decide on, and it actually came down to the two nominees who weren't nominated for the real award: Rylance and Stuhlbarg. Rylance had the showier performance in a movie I liked a lot more than Shirley, but I found myself thinking a lot more about Michael Stuhlbarg's performance than Rylance's, so he takes the fake statue here.

Best Supporting Actress

Olivia Colman – The Father^

Elizabeth Debicki – Tenet

Han Ye-ri – Minari

Youn Yuh-jung – Minari*

Helena Zengel – News of the World

Unlike the category above, none of these actresses played real-life figures. But similar to Supporting Actor, I didn't take too much exception to the Oscar field this year. Amanda Seyfried was never not going to be nominated for Mank, and she gives a solid performance in a film that didn't quite have the awards-season impact that it seemed destined for. I expected to hate Hillbilly Elegy for a number of reasons, but I wound up just not liking it very much. Glenn Close was a convincing hillbilly grandma, but I don't see anything nomination-worthy there. Ditto, honestly, for Maria Bakalova—the Giuliani stuff is certainly incredible, and I usually ride for comedic performances, but I think I'm just missing something here. She's good, not great.

• We'll again start with the real-life nominees. The Father was one of the final main category nominees I watched this year, and Olivia Colman easily snagged a nomination in a category I was honestly struggling to fill. Her aggrieved and grieving daughter to Anthony Hopkins's titular Father is a masterclass in subtle reactions and minute facial expressions. It's a wonderfully minor-key performance and a perfect counterbalance to Hopkins's fireworks. I wasn't expecting to like the film as much as I did, and Colman is a huge reason why. Although she didn't win on Sunday, I could easily see her winning a second statue someday soon.
• In a widely expected result (again, one of the few in the main categories) Youn Yuh-jung became the first Korean performer to win an Oscar. Like Close, she also a foul-mouthed grandmother—although Youn's performance was far superior in a far better film. Youn doesn't arrive until about halfway through the film, but she quickly becomes a central character, a key source of humor and drama both, with mischievous eyes that quickly become deadened after a stroke. But her humanity still shines through, even as she makes a tragic mistake late in the third act. It's an indelible performance, and a more-than-worthy Oscar winner. Youn's speech was also among the best of the night—perhaps the very best.
• While I was glad to see Youn nominated, I was confused as to why her costar and onscreen daughter, Han Ye-ri, missed the cut. Her exasperated wife to Steven Yeun's obstinate husband is such a lovely, wounded performance, and Han has no shortage of Oscar reel scenes. (Granted, most of them are arguments with Yeun's character.) Youn's nomination is well deserved and (hopefully) a game-changer, but the Academy has missed out on nominating Parasite's Cho Yeo-jeong and Lee Jung-eun, The Handmaiden's Kim Min-hee and Kim Tae-ri, and, now Han. Let's hope more international performances (not just South Korean) are considered moving forward.
• The final two nominees to make my field are both good bets to garner a nomination in the future. That might sounds ridiculous to say about a 12-year-old, but Helena Zengel just radiates rare star quality even at such a young age. Just like Saoirse Ronan before her, Zengel already looks like an acting powerhouse in the making with keenly expressive eyes and a polished screen presence—she already more than holds her own opposite Tom friggin' Hanks. I don't typically go for child performers here in my fake awards, but 1) it was kind of a weaker year for supporting actress, and 2) she was that good. (Side note: Alan Kim also gave a fantastic child performance in Minari.)
• I had a hard time picking my final nominee here (actually, my final two nominees). I considered each of the three actual Oscar nominees, as well as Viola Davis in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (who just feels more like a supporting performance to me), and Adèle Haenel in Deerskin (a movie you'll be hearing about more below). But finally I just said "fuck it" and went with the latest Nolan Problemwife, Elizabeth Debicki. Tenet's weakness is its script, and the writing for Debicki's character is especially lacking—but that doesn't mean she doesn't give a good performance. Debicki has been a favorite of mine for a while, and she makes the most of a poorly written character, imbuing her abused wife with real pathos and verve, which is good enough to take the final slot in my field.

I considered each of the first three names above here—Colman, Youn, and Han. Any of them would be a worthy winner: Colman's consummate internality, Youn's enduring humanity, Han's guarded fierceness. In an upset, I went with Han Ye-ri, who imbued what could have been a forgettable wife role across from a Best Actor nominee with something remarkable.

Best Actor

Riz Ahmed – Sound of Metal^

Jean Dujardin – Deerksin

Delroy Lindo – Da 5 Bloods

Mads Mikkelsen – Another Round

Steven Yeun – Minari^

There are a couple of names conspicuously missing from my field here: the would-be posthumous Oscar winner Chadwick Boseman (R.I.P.) for Ma Rainey's Black Bottom and surprise winner Anthony Hopkins for The Father. (I did not consider Gary Oldman's awards-baity performance in Mank. He's... fine, I guess.) Both deliver outstanding performances, don't get me wrong—but they're also of the Capital-A Acting variety, which doesn't tend to resonate with me. Their performances are almost too technically sound to where they seem less an act of organic creation and more of a calculated spectacle. That both roles originated on the stage rather than the screen is unsurprising. Both are deserving nominees and I have no qualms with Hopkins winning the Oscar (I'd have voted for him over Boseman, too), but they narrowly missed the cut here. (Note: I also strongly considered Kingsley Ben-Adir as Malcolm X in Miami...)

• I'll start with the obvious: Delroy Lindo was the biggest main category snub on nomination morning. Once considered a shoo-in, Lindo had several factors working against him: his film was an early-year release, it was on Netflix, and, well, he's black. But how his raw, powerful, rageful performance in the latest Spike Lee joint was overlooked for a sweaty, ho-hum performance by a recent winner (it was definitely Oldman that made it over him) is beyond me. Imagine watching Lindo reckon with a lifetime of pain and internalized guilt in the jungles of Vietnam and deciding to nominate Oldman drinking his way through cocktail parties and, uh "writing." I just can't—and, in fact, did not, Mank you very much.
• Let's continue with the other new names in this field. Jean Dujardin, another previous Oscar winner for a movie I haven't thought about in years (The Artist) was an easy inclusion here for a very different movie than the one he won for. Not a ton of people seem to have seen Deerskin, the latest from Rubber auteur Quentin Depieux (it's on HBO Max!), but this deeply weird story about a man who becomes obsessed with a possibly supernatural deerskin jacket was one of my favorites of last year. It's anchored by totally committed performance from Dujardin, who plays it almost completely straight—every beat, every tic is played perfectly as the movie—and Dujardin—successfully treads a very fine line between darkness and comedy.
• The other new name is Mads Mikkelsen, who has always been a tough actor to read for me. He's mostly known for his villainous roles in his English-language performances (Hannibal, Casino Royale, Dr. Strange, etc.), as well as several B-movie type roles. So his performance as a high school teacher going through a kind of midlife crisis was something of a new side of Mikkelsen to me. Another Year is a charming and, ahem, soberingly humanistic dramedy, and Mikkelsen nails it as he slurs his way through his drinking "experiment" that's a stand-in for decades of regret and weariness—all of which plays across his face in what is actually a rather restrained performance. Except for the very ending, which is one of the best of the year—joyful, exuberant, freeing, and a perfect showcase for this new-to-me side of Mikkelsen.
• Either of the two actual Oscar nominees in my field would be a legitimate contender in most years—and both arguably should have received nominations before. Riz Ahmed was clearly deserving of a Supporting Actor nomination for Nightcrawler, but there was no denying him this year for his performance as a heavy metal drummer who suddenly, inexplicably, starts to go deaf. Ahmed's performance is manic and urgent, with a barely restrained torrent of anger coursing through his every line, every mannerism. But there's also a tenderness to it that becomes more pronounced as the film goes on. I know this was Ruben's story, but I wish the girlfriend character had been a bit better written to give their scenes a little more impact—but that's not Ahmed's fault (and his scenes with Raci are excellent). He'll undoubtedly be back in this field, both in real life and on this blog.
• That leaves us with Steven Yeun, who was never a serious Oscar contender for his coolly villainous turn in Burning (although he should have been). He gets his comeuppance this year for a very different performance in the eminently lovely Minari. In Burning, Yeun is detached and debonair, a slick and aloof possible murderer (man, I need to rewatch that one). Here, he is a prideful and determined working-class father, furious at the world that has held him back but unafraid to challenge the status quo. His resilience is palpable in every scene, even as he nearly ruins the very family he is trying to save. It's a complex role, but Yeun is more than up to the challenge and plays off each of his castmates—even and especially the child actors—perfectly. Although the Academy dropped the ball with Lindo, at least they got it right with Ahmed and Yeun, the first two Asian men to be nominated in this category.

This came down to the two actual nominees and the snubbed Lindo. They all had incredible performances and there are no real losers here. But Delroy Lindo would not be denied for his muscular-yet-vulnerable turn in the latest Spike Lee joint. I hope this respected veteran gets another role like this someday soon and finally breaks through with a much-deserved Oscar nomination.

Best Actress

Julia Garner – The Assistant

Vanessa Kirby – Pieces of a Woman^

Frances McDormand – Nomadland*

Elizabeth Moss – The Invisible Man/Shirley

Carey Mulligan – Promising Young Woman^

Last year, I didn't have any Best Actress nominees in common with the actual field, so we're come a long way in a year-plus. And the two nominees I left out of my field are both deserving enough. I mentioned Davis's performance above—she isn't even on the screen for 1/3 of Ma Rainey, and her performance also falls into the Acting category I talked about with Boseman and Hopkins. She's very good, though, and deserving of a nomination if you truly think hers is a lead performance. Andra Day is also great, but it's another biopic, which, again, I almost never go for. Just looking back a few years, there's maybe only one or two such performances among my nominees each year (except for Supporting Actor this year, which seems to be an aberration). I just prefer original characters, or at least performances that aren't mere impressions (not that Day's falls into that category, for the most part). But onto my actual nominees.

• Carey Mulligan (who somehow only has one previous nomination) entered the Oscars as the co-frontrunner with Davis for her performance in the divisive Promising Young Woman. I'll get to the film itself later on, but there's nothing divisive about Mulligan's performance—she's really fucking good. Working within the confines of a script that does make some missteps (but one that I still really like!), Mulligan delivers a supremely assured, multilayered performance. She effortlessly flits between personas—daughter and schemer, girlfriend and fuckdoll, prey and predator. It's like she has a grab bag of those comedy and drama masks, and she always chooses the perfect one for each scene. It's impressive work that would've earned my Oscar vote had I had one. Now 0-for-2 on Oscar night, is Mulligan going to become the next Amy Adams (herself the next Glenn Close)?
• Frances McDormand entered Sunday seemingly a distant third in the actual Best Actress race but exited the night with a third Oscar. You can't say she wasn't deserving of the win—although you absolutely can say her acceptance speech left much to be desired. In one of the best films of the year, McDormand gives a mostly downtuned performance, her taciturn Fern is a long way from the loquacious Marge Gunderson and the indignant Mildred Hayes. She spends a good chunk of the film by herself, grappling with the twin adversaries of grief and her crushing socioeconomic reality. It's a marvelous, convincing performance (reportedly, many of the actual nomads who appear in the film had no idea she was an actress)—better than Mildred but maybe not quite on the same level as Marge.
• Vanessa Kirby was a late addition to this field, as I only watched Pieces of a Woman a couple nights before the Oscars. I was considering names like Christin Milioti, Rosamund Pike, and even Jessie Buckley—even though I hated her film—before Kirby swooped in. I liked but didn't love Woman overall—it never quite lived up to the promise of that long take, and the pacing got a bit wonky—but Kirby was magnificent, operating on a level well above her talented castmates (including Ellen Burstyn and Shia LaBeouf). Whereas Burstyn and LaBeouf—and the film itself at times—ratcheted the intensity level up a bit too high, too often (tarnishing believability, to me), Kirby nailed every beat, reigning in and cranking up her emotions as needed for each scene. The only things I can remember her from prior to this are action franchise movies (M:I and F&F), so this was a pleasant surprise. Looking forward to both more dramatic and franchise roles from her.
• Julia Garner is another name I had only passing familiarity with prior to this year, really only recognizing her from the Waco miniseries (which was great—and she in it), plus a couple smaller films (Martha Marcy May Marlene and We Are What We Are). But she was a revelation in The Assistant—it's a shame the Academy wasn't able to find room for her in an admittedly crowded field. Perhaps the film hit a bit too close to home? Garner plays a, well, assistant to an unnamed and unseen Hollywood Exec that's clearly meant to be Harvey Weinstein. Most of the film is the day-to-day minutiae of being a Hollywood assistant: answering phones, setting up meetings, getting lunch, etc. But slowly, surely, Garner realizes she's actually aiding and abetting a serial predator. Her transformation from (not quite) blissfully ignorant to remorseful conspirator to taking the first timid steps toward action is a heartbreaking sight to behold. It's a quietly big performance in a terrifyingly quiet movie and portends big things for its star and writer-director, Kitty Green, both (more on her below).
• The last name here is hardly a new one—Elisabeth Moss won on this blog last year for Her Smell. She's almost as good this year in two roles: horror remake The Invisible Man and literary biopic Shirley. (I make the rules for these fake Oscars, so I'm nominating her for both.) In Shirley, she plays more of a supporting role (like Davis) to Odessa Young's lead, but I'm lumping her striking, seething turn here because I can. She does chew the scenery a bit, but her performance is so fervent that it works. She dials things down a bit for Invisible, but not too much—she's still playing a woman everyone thinks is crazy because she claims her dead ex-boyfriend is somehow stalking her. That fear and incredulity are etched onto every expression and gesture that gradually turns into a kind of gleeful insanity as she figures out what's really been happening. Invisible was an unexpected early-year delight, and Moss's performance stuck with me all year.

Any one of these ladies could have won here. We've got two up-and-comers who will likely be back (Garner and Kirby), two established stars at or near their prime (Moss and Mulligan), and a decorated veteran (McDormand). Moss and McDormand were hot on her heels, but the winner here is Carey Mulligan for her dazzling, rangy performance in a complicated role.

Best Screenplay

Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman*

Kitty Green – The Assistant

Spike Lee, Danny Bilson, Paul de Meo, and Kevin Willmott – Da 5 Bloods

Andy Siara – Palm Springs

Aaron Sorkin – The Trial of the Chicago 7^

Like last year, I'm eschewing doing two separate screenplay categories. I just generally don't find adapted screenplays to be all that impressive—unless it's something difficult to adapt (Inherent Vice), adds sufficiently original content (The Social Network), or isn't *really* adapted from anything concrete (Before Midnight). Most of this year's Adapted Screenplay nominees don't fit these molds—we've got two books (Nomadland and The White Tiger) and two plays (Miami... and The Father). The Borat sequel, of course, isn't really adapted from anything—but it's also mostly improvised. Of the actual Original Screenplay nominees, I didn't really consider Judas, since it's a fairly straightforward retelling of true events. Minari and Sound of Metal were on my shortlist (along with Another Round and Soul), but I felt other aspects of the filmmaking were more the strengths of those two films rather than their screenplays. I did nominate the two scripts that entered Sunday as the likely Oscar frontrunners, so let's start there.

• Like I mentioned above, Emerald Fennell's Promising Young Woman script makes some missteps. The Nina character—the actual victim of the inciting sexual assault—is basically an afterthought, and I thought some of the supporting characters (the mother and the actual rapist, for two examples) were rather poorly drawn. And the ending drew the ire of Film Twitter—why should Cassie trust the police to do *anything* right? I see and mostly agree with those complaints, but, to me, they don't detract too much from Fennell's achievement here. This is a bold, vibrant take on one of THE defining cultural reckonings of this young century, an outrageous, keyed-up revenge fantasy that deftly avoids the easy and expected. I'll forgive it a misstep or two in exchange for moments like the first time Cassie "sobers up" with one of the guys who took her home (unfortunately massively spoiled by the trailer) or Bo Burnham's reaction when presented with evidence of his involvement with Nina's assault. Fennell would have gotten my real Oscar vote if I'd had one.
• Close behind would be Aaron Sorkin. Sorry not sorry, but I'm always a sucker for his verbal pyrotechnics. I adore both Sports Night and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip (I know, I know)—although I've weirdly never seen The West Wing. I count The Social Network among my favorite films of all time, and I quite liked Moneyball and Molly's Game as well (I haven't actually seen any of his early films and thought Steve Jobs was just okay). So I, of course, loved Chicago 7, idealistic and melodramatic warts and all. Sorkin perfectly matched each actor to their character: Rylance delivering courtroom monologues, Cohen slinging zingers, Jeremy Strong's stoned musings, Frank Langella bellowing, Yahya Abdul-Mateen's impassioned pleas. I even didn't hate Eddie Redmayne in this, which might be the most impressive achievement of Sorkin's career. Film Twitter might have had a meltdown, but I wouldn't at all have been mad had he pulled off the upset.
• On the topic of being mad, how the fuck was Spike Lee (and company) not nominated for an Oscar? I wonder if the film's production history worked against it a bit (not to mention the other factors mentioned above)—the project was in development for a while before Lee took over, so maybe some didn't view it as a true Spike Lee joint. The premise from the original writers is great—Vietnam vets returning to the jungle to recover treasure they buried during the war—but Lee transformed it into a bawdy, ballsy exploration of race and war and how they intersect even today. The moment you see Lindo's character don a MAGA hat, for example, you know you're watching a true Spike Lee joint. It's a damn shame that Bloods only earned one Oscar nomination (for Terence Blanchard's excellent score—I do remember that one). Bummed to see Spike relegated by the Academy once again, but excited to see where his career resurgence goes from here.
• That leaves us with two new names in this field. One is Kitty Green, whose The Assistant functions as almost a sister film to Promising Young Woman. But instead of an exaggerated, hyperstylized dark comedy, Green's film is small and quiet—but one that's harrowing in its mundanity. It's a study in what *not* to depict on screen, and whose stories are really worth telling. Green could easily have made Garner's boss an on-screen character, or explored the story of one of his victims (a couple of whom only briefly appear). But pieces of shit like Weinstein don't need to be shown to depict their evil, and we know the stories of victims of people like him all too well. Instead, Green's decision to tell the story of a lowly assistant—herself a tangential victim, even if she was never assaulted herself—is genius. It's a story of how small evils left unchecked allow the large evils to flourish, and one that shows how the impact crater of abusers is so much larger than we could ever imagine. Uh, not bad for a narrative debut feature.
• The final name might seem a bit surprising—but only if you haven't seen Palm Springs, one of my very favorite movies of the year. This hilarious, smart, and truly heartening picture is also the debut feature of Andy Siara, whose previous claim to fame seems to have been as a writer on the canceled AMC series Lodge 49. I've never seen it, but if Siara is involved, I'm interested in checking it out. (It also stars Wyatt Russell, whom I love in everything I've seen him in.) Or I could just rewatch Palm Springs again—it's the only 2020 movie besides Tenet that I've already watched twice. (Edit: I did rewatch Chicago 7 after the Oscars on Sunday night. This was written beforehand.) It's just that... charming and bittersweet and thoughtful and truthful. And more than that, you just don't want to stop hanging out with the characters (especially important given that it's a time-loop movie). I seriously considered including Andy Samberg and Christin Milioti in my Actor/Actress fields, but I felt that Screenplay was the right place to highlight this movie. Siara (and co-creator and director Max Barbakow) created this sublime little loop in the desert of California—one that I can't wait to keep revisiting again and again down the line.

This is a really strong field, and any of the contenders would be a worthy winner. But I have to go with the screenplay that made me want to go back for a second helping right away, so Andy Siara takes the fake trophy here. I hope him and Barbakow have another project in the works—I'm 100% in on anything with a "from the creators of Palm Springs" tag.

Best Director

Lee Isaac Chung – Minari^

Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman^

Spike Lee – Da 5 Bloods

Christopher Nolan – Tenet

Chloé Zhao – Nomadland*

The Academy did a pretty good job overall this year, even with the strange decision to delay the Oscars into April. Every category this year has at least two nominees in common with the real deal, including three here (up from two last year). I didn't really consider Thomas Vinterberg or, especially, David Fincher here, though. I really liked Another Round, especially that ending, but nothing else really stuck out to me from a directorial standpoint. And I'm a huge David Fincher fan—I mentioned The Social Network above, and Zodiac is also one of the best films since 2000—but Mank is very meh. (More like Mehnk. Eh? Get it?) It was clearly a labor of love for Fincher, but other than a couple great dinner party scenes, it was pretty laborious for the rest of us, somehow boring *and* over-plotted. I honestly don't know why the Academy nominated him here, especially with at least one obvious replacement waiting in the wings.

• That would be, of course, Spike Lee for Da 5 Bloods. I commented in my Oscar predictions post that if you replaced Gary Oldman with Bloods's Delroy Lindo, the Best Actor field would be as strong as it's been in years. I'll take it a step further here and just say that the Academy went with the wrong Netflix film—Da 5 Bloods was much more worthy of the support that Mank got. I don't know which is the biggest travesty—Oldman over Lindo or Fincher over Lee. (It's probably still Lindo over Oldman.) This is one of the things I dislike most about the Oscars—it makes me have irrational negativity toward perfectly decent films like The King's Speech, Green Book (it's not that bad!), and, now, Mank. But watching stolid, perfunctory awards bait consistently get industry accolades over much more accomplished, dynamic films like The Social Network, Roma, and, now, Da 5 Bloods is just infuriating. (I also hate that I have to lump in Fincher with *checks notes* Tom Hooper and Peter Farrelly.) Anyway, Bloods is even better than BlacKkKlansman, the Black war/heist movie we didn't know we needed, as visceral as it is vital. Keep 'em coming, Spike. (Until his next one, I might have to revisit Miracle at St. Anna, which Bloods reminded me of.)
• I can see why Christopher Nolan wasn't nominated for Tenet. His latest would-be blockbuster is somewhat louder and definitely dumber than than headier fare like Inception, easily the closest comparison in Nolan's oeuvre. But 2020 needed a loud, dumb blockbuster more than any other year on record, and Nolan delivered one of the finest examples of the form, one of the best popcorn movies in years in Tenet. It's much derided script deserves most of the flak it has gotten, but the line "Don't try to understand it. Feel it" couldn't be more apt. If you're overanalyzing Tenet's plot or bemoaning it's expository dialogue and not just taking in the spectacle... maybe you're just doing movies wrong. Now, maybe it's just because Tenet was the first movie I saw in theaters during the pandemic that I loved it as much as I did... but I had a huge, stupid grin on my face the entire run time—I think partially *because* of how loud and dumb it was. Like I mentioned above, I even went back for a second dose of inverted bullets, temporal pincer movements, and John David Washington and Robert Pattinson just living it up. Tenet is just a rip-roaring good time at the cinema, and I'm glad I got to experience it in a theater last year.
• The next two nominees are basically the exact opposite of Tenet's loud and dumb aesthetic—both Best Picture winner Nomadland and Minari are quiet, contemplative films meant to be seen on a random Wednesday afternoon with a theater full of polite olds. (I did actually see both in theaters, albeit at nighttime.) Of the two, I agree with the Academy that Nomadland and Chloé Zhao were the Best Picture and Director of 2020, respectively. That's now two years in a row where I agreed with the Oscar Director/Picture winners (of the actual nominees, that is). I haven't seen either of Zhao's first two features, but I was blown away by Nomadland—its rich quietude, its freespirited pacing, it's gorgeous cinematography (robbed at the Oscars, by the way), its sense of time and place. (No, I do not give a single shit about its drummed-up Amazon "controversy".) I have absolutely *no* idea how Zhao's aesthetic will translate to the MCU, but I know I'm excited to find out.
• Lee Isaac Chung's Minari was another awards-season film I didn't expect to like as much as I did. It looked somewhat... Sundance-y from the trailer, a subcategory of indie film that's generally not for me—simple, sentimental, slice-of-life. That's not to say that there isn't a charming simplicity about Chung's filmmaking style, or that Minari lacks sentimentality, or that this peek into a very specific time/culture/place wasn't worthwhile. But Chung resists going overboard on charm (which can be easy to do when child actors are involved), favors ambiguity over sentimentality, and paints a much more vivid picture than the typical slice-of-life movie. It's an exceedingly personal movie, but not so much so that it's not accessible or relatable. Minari is a remarkable achievement by a filmmaker who was all but set to quit the film industry. I'm glad he decided to give it one last shot, and we're all better off that he was able to get this made. I'm interested to see what he does next—perhaps he'll join Zhao in the MCU, or go to the rival DCEU? </saracasm>
• My final nominee came down to two women for the two very related films mentioned above—Fennell for Promising Young Woman and Green for The Assistant. This was maximal vs. minimal, showy vs. subtle, stylized vs. austere. I know that in filmmaking "more" doesn't always mean better—"more" acted, "more" edited, "more" directed. But in this case, I decided to go with that "more" and include Emerald Fennell in my field. I didn't necessarily love every decision she made or agree with every song choice, but I found her overall approach fascinating—the pop sensibility, the ethical murkiness, the audacious unsubtlety. Her approach certainly isn't for everyone, but it mostly worked for me, and I respect her willingness to be so polarizing. I'm curious to see how her aesthetic changes—if her aesthetic changes—as her career moves forward. Her next project will be well worth checking out, whatever it winds up being. (Please not, like, another Harley Quinn movie or something.)

This category was actually a fairly easy call for me. The only two nominees I really considered here were Lee and Zhao, and I had Chloé Zhao winning even before the Oscars. (Actually, pretty much everything besides Director and Picture was written before the ceremony. Just ran out of time!) Nomadland might not have been my #1 movie of the year (spoilers for below), but it would have got my vote for Best Picture anyway, and Zhao was head and shoulders above her peers this year.

Best Picture

Unlike the real Oscars, we'll actually end with Best Picture. (God, that was such a bizarre, miscalculated end to the ceremony that I will probably write something about someday.) As I've said my piece about most of these movies above, I'm just going to count down my top 10 (because 8 is a dumb number) to my #1 movie of 2020. I'll include a link to my Letterboxd review(s) of each movie if you want more of my (brief) thoughts.

10) The Assistant (Letterboxd review)

9) Promising Young Woman^ (Letterboxd review)

8) Sound of Metal^ (Letterboxd review)

7) Soul (Letterboxd review)

6) Minari^ (Letterboxd review)

5) Nomadland* (Letterboxd review)

4) Da 5 Bloods (Letterboxd review)

3) The Trial of the Chicago 7^ (Letterboxd reviews)

2) Palm Springs (Letterboxd reviews)

1) Tenet (Letterboxd reviews)

So there you have it. Neither of my top two were exactly Oscar fare (although Tenet did win Best Visual Effects). But Tenet was the only movie to make me brave the pandemic not once, but twice—it's the perfect popcorn movie in a year that truly needed one. And Palm Springs was the perfect comfort movie to watch at home curled up on your couch. They both made a terrible year infinitely more bearable—as did most of the rest of the movies I watched last year, even the bad ones. You can check out the complete pandemic cinema list, along with micro reviews, on Letterboxd.

I'm thankful for movies, and for you reading, whoever you are. I hope you found something in cinema that helped you get through 2020 like I did. Now, let's see what 2021 has in store.

No Dramatics: My 2021 Oscars Predictions

In the past two years, we've seen perhaps the worst Best Picture winner since Crash, and the most surprising—and satisfying—Best Picture winner since Moonlight. (Neither of which I actually predicted, for those following along at home.) This year, I'm not expecting anything nearly so dramatic. Most of the major categories seem either decided or between acceptable options—and the Best Picture category is refreshingly free of turds in the punch bowl. This year's dookiest entry—Mank—makes Green Book and Jojo Rabbit look like... well, not Citizen Kane, but, I dunno, something inoffensive like Me and Orson Welles. I don't think there's anything that could happen at this year's ceremony that would make me as apoplectic as The King's Speech beating The Social Network or Green Book beating Roma. Even an out-of-nowhere Mank win would get no more than a bemused shrug from me. So let's see what AMPAS has in store for us this year, starting, as is tradition, with the supporting performances.

Best Supporting Actress

Maria Bakalova – Borat Subsequent Moviefilm
Glenn Close – Hillbilly Elegy
Olivia Colman – The Father
Amanda Seyfried – Mank
Youn Yuh-jung – Minari

Early on during awards season, this award looked first Seyfried's then Bakalova's to lose. But Youn Yuh-jung seems to have this one in the bag after National Board of Review, BAFTA, and SAG wins. (The Golden Globes winner, Jodie Foster, wasn't even nominated here.) Youn delivers a marvelous performance in a different league than most of the other nominees—only Colman's comes close, and I'd still give my non-existent vote to Youn (duh, see below). Glad to see that the astounding amount of talented South Korean filmmakers and actors are finally starting to get Academy recognition.

My Non-Existent Vote: Youn

Best Supporting Actor

Sacha Baron Cohen – The Trial of the Chicago 7

Daniel Kaluuya – Judas and the Black Messiah

Leslie Odom Jr. – One Night in Miami...

Paul Raci – Sound of Metal

Lakeith Stanfield – Judas and the Black Messiah

This one is even more settled than Supporting Actress—Daniel Kaluuya has won more precursors than Youn, adding the Golden Globes to the trifecta Youn won. Kaluuya, a previous Best Actor nominee for Get Out, delivers a fiery performance as slain Black Panther Fred Hampton in Judas, which apparently did not have a lead actor (Stanfield's nomination here is laughable; he's the clear lead). Odom and Cohen also made my fake Oscars (post forthcoming) field, and Raci gave an unflashy but memorable performance worthy of a nomination. But all will be applauding for Kaluuya come tonight.

My Non-Existent Vote: Kaluuya

Best Actress

Viola Davis – Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Andra Day – The United States vs. Billie Holiday

Vanessa Kirby – Pieces of a Woman

Frances McDormand – Nomadland

Carey Mulligan – Promising Young Woman

Ah, finally a category with some drama! There's a case to be made, I think, for every nominee but Kirby (the standard "happy to be nominated" nominee). Day made a splash with her surprise upset at the Golden Globes; I don't think you can count her completely out, but she hasn't won any other precursor, so she's probably still somewhat of a longshot. You can never count out McDormand, a two-time winner here (who also won the BAFTA this year) and the anchor of the Best Picture frontrunner; I absolutely would not be surprised to hear her named called tonight. But I think this is between Mulligan and Davis. Mulligan has the National Board of Review; Davis has the more important SAG. This race is really too close to call, but Carey Mulligan hasn't won before, while previous winner Davis has so little screentime, so I'm going with her as the most likely winner. Absolutely nothing would surprise me in this category, though.

My Non-Existent Vote: Mulligan

Best Actor

Riz Ahmed – Sound of Metal

Chadwick Boseman – Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Anthony Hopkins – The Father

Gary Oldman – Mank

Steven Yeun – Minari

I was going to call this the biggest lock of the night for Chadwick Boseman (R.I.P.) and his searing performance in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom. But I'm starting to hear rumblings that Hopkins (very good in a film I liked a lot more than I expected) and maybe even Ahmed (who'd get my vote) could upset here. I don't think it'll happen, but the door is apparently at least cracked open a little. First-time nominee Yeun (sensational) and Mank himself round out the field and have no shot of winning. Replace Oldman with the egregiously robbed Delroy Lindo for Da 5 Bloods and this would have been the strongest Best Actor field in recent memory.

My Non-Existent Vote: Ahmed

Best Adapted Screenplay

Sacha Baron Cohen, et al. – Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller – The Father

Chloé Zhao – Nomadland

Kemp Powers – One Night in Miami...

Ramin Bahrani – The White Tiger

This is the other major category that doesn't seem quite settled yet. I don't think any of these nominees can quite be counted out, although I admit I'd be surprised to see Miami... or Tiger win here. (Although both are excellent and would get no protest from me.) Of the remaining three, Borat actually won the WGA, and Father won the BAFTA. Nomadland hasn't really won any major precursors (just the Critic's Choice), but the Academy is its own beast, and I could easily see Nomadland becoming the big winner of the night, so I'm going with Chloé Zhao here—but this is my least confident choice in the major categories. Watch out for Borat or Father here.

My Non-Existent Vote: Bahrani

Best Original Screenplay

Will Berson and Shaka King – Judas and the Black Messiah

Lee Isaac Chung – Minari

Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman

Abraham Marder and Darius Marder – Sound of Metal

Aaron Sorkin – The Trial of the Chicago 7

This one seems all but sewn up—Emerald Fennell should win an Oscar for her debut feature. (Fuck me, right?) Promising Young Woman is bold, it's topical, and it's exceedingly original (which is, I mean, in the name of this category). There are a few spoiler options: Judas is also bold and topical, Minari is lovely with a backstory that's easy to root for, and Chicago is Sorkin, a previous winner. I don't think Metal has much of a shot (and it's a better premise than actual screenplay). But I wouldn't count on an upset here; Fennell should take the statue as the first female winner since Diablo Cody.

My Non-Existent Vote: Fennell

Best Director

Lee Isaac Chung – Minari

Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman

David Fincher – Mank

Thomas Vinterberg – Another Round

Chloé Zhao – Nomadland

I'll be honest—I don't know what Fincher and Vinterberg are doing here. Vinterberg will be a random curio you'll come across on Wikipedia in a few years like Benh Zeitlin or Paweł Pawlikowski (only true Oscar heads will remember what they were nominated for), and absolutely no one will think about Mank ever again after the ceremony. Of the three top contenders, Fennell probably has no real shot with voters thinking Original Screenplay is enough, and Minari probably doesn't have enough top-category ooomph to put Chung over the top. So Chloé Zhao, who has only won the BAFTA, Globe, and DGA, is a near lock to take home the Oscar as widely predicted—and deservingly so.

My Non-Existent Vote: Zhao

Best Picture

The Father

Judas and the Black Messiah

Mank

Minari

Nomadland

Promising Young Woman

Sound of Metal

The Trial of the Chicago 7

You can probably cross Father, Judas, Mank, and Metal off your list—none of them has any real shot. But if the impossible happened, I wouldn't be mad if any of them won—even Mank, which is still a Well-Made Picture, and its worst sin is that it's kind of boring. I also don't think we'll hear Woman's or Chicago's names called at the end of the night—but, again, nothing would surprise me and I'd be fine if either of them were the big winner (especially Chicago, which is actually my favorite of this year's Best Picture nominees—although I'd still vote for Nomadland, if that makes sense). I think this'll come down to Minari and Nomadland, though. Honestly—and keep in mind that both of these films are in my 2020 top-10—these are two minor-key indie films that I don't think will exactly go down in the annals, Oscar win or no. They're of a piece with 2019's Roma—an outstanding work of an auteur at the peak of their powers, but without any real lasting cultural footprint. Like Roma, Minari is too personal and small in scale, and Nomadland is full of gorgeous compositions but might be too... artsy? to really grab the zeitgeist. And the Amazon faux-controversy might be making headlines right now, but it will quickly be forgotten. But it is the clear-cut favorite right now, so I think it's safe to say that Nomadland will be taking home the top prize at tonight's ceremony. It would be a deserving winner, but I can't say with confidence that we'll be looking back on it in, say, 2025 as any kind of cultural touchstone. And that's okay—at least it's not reductive bullshit, and there's no all-timer in this year's field. Not every year is going to have a Hall of Famer, and I'll settle for a Hall of Very Good over a potential debacle any year.

My Non-Existent Vote: Nomadland

Now, it's time for the LIGHTNING ROUND for the rest of the categories.

Best International Feature Film

Another Round (Denmark) – Thomas Vinterberg

This is the only nominee I've seen, although I've heard good things about the others. But this is the only one with a major category nominee (Best Director), so it seems like a pretty safe bet here.

My Non-Existent Vote: Another Round

Best Animated Film

Soul – Pete Docter and Dana Murray

This is also the only film in this category I've seen. It's foolish to bet against Pixar here, but I do get the feeling that Wolfwalkers has a legitimate shot. I just can't pull the trigger, though.

My Non-Existent Vote: Soul

Best Documentary Feature

My Octopus Teacher – Pippa Ehrlich, Craig Foster, and James Reed

If you think I've seen any of these, you haven't been reading very closely in all the years I've been doing this (since 2010 on this blog). This seems to be the frontrunner, so let's go with it.

My Non-Existent Vote: Abstain (have not seen any of the nominees)

Best Documentary Short

Do Not Split – Charlotte Cook and Anders Hammer

Yeah, no, I didn't see any of these either. (You'd have to pay me so much money.) There doesn't seem to be any kind of consensus on this category amongst prognosticators, so this is a total guess.

My Non-Existent Vote: Abstain (have not seen any of the nominees)

Best Animated Short

If Anything Happens I Love You – Michael Govier and Will McCormack

This was the clear best of the bunch—the most poignant and taking on the most vital subject matter. Thankfully, the Pixar nominee (Burrow) was such a nothingburger that it doesn't seem to have a shot.

My Non-Existent Vote: If Anything Happens I Love You

Best Live Action Short

Two Distant Strangers – Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe

This was an *outstanding* field this year—any would be a deserving winner. But this timely, well made, and entertaining time-loop dark comedy is easily the frontrunner here. Watch it on Netflix.

My Non-Existent Vote: Two Distant Strangers

Best Original Score

Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, and Jon Batiste – Soul

Also nominated for Mank, Reznor and Ross seem like a pretty good bet for a second Oscar. Add Batiste's jazzy contributions and Soul is one of the easier calls on the board.

My Non-Existent Vote: Reznor, Ross, and Batiste

Best Original Song

"Speak Now" – Sam Ashworth and Leslie Odom Jr. (from One Night in Miami...)

I *really* want to pull the trigger on "Husavik"—the only nominee that's not just an end-credits number—but I can't see Eurovision (underrated!) beating out Miami..., so I'll go with the prestige picture here.

My Non-Existent Vote: "Husavik" – Rickard Göransson, Fat Max Gsus, and Savan Kotecha (from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga)

Best Cinematography

Joshua James Richards – Nomadland

This is an easy call—not only is Nomadland gorgeous, but it's a weak group of nominees. News of the World is second-best, Mank has the B&W novelty factor, and Judas and Chicago are nothing special.

My Non-Existent Vote: Richards

Best Editing

Alan Baumgarten – The Trial of the Chicago 7

Really, any film but Woman could win this—Nomadland could pick up a bunch of awards, Metal has a lot of support, and Father might be the best of the bunch—but let's go with the ACE Eddie winner.

My Non-Existent Vote: Yorgos Lamprinos – The Father

Best Production Design

Donald Graham Burt and Jan Pascale – Mank

Hey, Mank might actually win an award! It'd be deserving in this category for its grand, detailed sets—including a recreation of Hearst Castle. Impressive stuff.

My Non-Existent Vote: Burt and Pascale

Best Costume Design

Ann Roth – Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Mank is the only nominee other than Rainey with a major category nominee, and it won't win any of them, making Roth the clear favorite here. This might be the lock of the night.

My Non-Existent Vote: Alexandra Byrne – Emma.

Best Makeup And Hairstyling

Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal, and Jamika Wilson – Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Or is this the lock of the night? Expect Rainey to sweep these two oft-linked categories—it's a high-profile film where costumes/fashion are an important part.

My Non-Existent Vote: Lopez-Rivera, Neal, and Wilson

Best Sound

Jaime Baksht, Nicolas Becker, Philip Bladh, Carlos Cortés, and Michelle Couttolenc – Sound of Metal

Okay, okay, okay—THIS is actually the lock of the night. A film where sound is THE key element, and "sound" is even in the title? Sound of Metal is the surefire winner this newly merged category.

My Non-Existent Vote: Baksht, Becker, Bladh, Cortés, and Couttolenc 

Best Visual Effects

Scott R. Fisher, Andrew Jackson, David Lee, and Andrew Lockley – Tenet

Tenet is an overwhelming favorite here for its impressive and memorable VFX. It would be the third Christopher Nolan movie to win here (after Inception and Interstellar).

My Non-Existent Vote: Fisher, Jackson, Lee and Lockley

I did incredibly well last year, call 20/24 winners. Unfortunately, I missed on the top two categories—afraid the Academy wouldn't go for Parasite, I called Sam Mendes and 1917 for Director and Picture. Oh well—I was more than happy with the result. I don't think I'll equal that total this year, with four categories I'm unsure of and at least 1-2 surprises. I'd settle for 18/23 (one fewer category!) and 6/8 of the major categories. There's less than five hours to go. I guess I should get to finishing my fake Oscars post! Let's see if I can get it in under the wire.