Reviewing the Academy’s ‘Best Pictures’ of 2022

by Maya Thompson

The Oscars are fast approaching and it’s that time of the year where all self-respecting film reviewers reflect on 2022’s cinema output. This is the first time I’m taking part in such an activity, and it’s no small task. I would like to be able to give a thorough, detailed, accurate roadmap of the 2022 film-scape, but that’s hardly feasible considering the sheer number of films released last year. As I open this review, or rather discussion, of some of the films nominated for Best Picture this year, I want to address one thought first: the Academy Awards are not the be-all and end-all of films. Of course, they have carefully crafted social meanings and stakes; I’m not saying they’re insignificant. They also, however, see cinema through a particular lens, one which can be viewed either positively or negatively. As noted by Maggie Hennfeld, in 2020 over 80% of the Academy’s voting members were white, and over 60% were male. Different narratives exist, as do different ways of categorizing the ‘best films of the year’. With this in mind, this piece examines the following Best Picture nominees and assesses what they do well, as well as what they could have done better. Let’s delve into them, shall we? 

 

Top Gun: Maverick: Time Capsule and Cinematic Wind Turbine 

Joseph Kosinski’s Top Gun: Maverick certainly fulfills action-related expectations and intensifies nostalgic sentiments. Although I’m of the generation that was not yet around when the first Top Gun came out, I could easily empathize with the nostalgia evoked by the imagery, music, and overall experience. The many references scattered throughout the film necessarily pull at the heartstrings. For me, Maverick is a very well executed and head-spinning cinematic experience. It delivers the heroism and drama of the first film both in a similar and an enhanced fashion. The parallels between narrative tropes and structures of the first and second film are significant. An obvious one is the existence of a ‘good pilot’ and a ‘bad pilot’ in both films, as well as the memory of a lost father which keeps the hero going. These similarities are enjoyable to watch because they are expected and predictable. Nevertheless, these narrative tropes are elevated by the film’s stunning visuals. Here, I’m particularly thinking of the final scenes of the film, when the pilots are navigating the ravine. The experience is visceral and breath-taking, aided by the captivating performances of Tom Cruise and Miles Teller. There is perhaps one limitation to the film’s ‘epic-ness’, and it’s not the cliché love story between Maverick and Penny (even though those scenes could have been executed with a little more imagination). It’s the beach football scene. Not that I wasn’t appreciative of the artful mise-en-scène of in-shape bodies gleaming with sweat, but I’m not exactly sure what it added to the film’s narrative goals. It fared well for the OneRepublic song though, and I, for one, am sure to never get that whistle sound out of my head. All jokes and cringe aside, I enjoyed the film and recognize it as deserving of its Best Picture nomination. Will it win? I’m not convinced it will, mostly because it is competing against the following three films.  

Elvis: The Colour of Music  

Elvis is delightfully surprising and stands out from other biopics I’ve seen for a number of reasons. First, the film is not solely centred around Elvis Presley but also explores another character: the story is told from the point of view of Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis’ manager. This subverts expectations of the traditional biopic and highlights the fact that these stories are always told from a particular perspective. The core of the film, the renditions of Elvis’ songs, are mesmerizing and successfully convey a notion of liveness: I felt as though I was a member of the audience during an Elvis concert. This sense of liveness is aided by the sequencing of split-screen editing which includes audience reactions, creating simultaneity and rhythm. The entire soundscape of the film is frankly breath-taking, combining more traditional sounds with modern hip-hop beats to express the inspirations behind Elvis’ sound, his appropriation of black music, and the legacy he leaves behind. Tied to this layering of sounds is a vibrant imagery: the costumes, set design, and makeup work together to transport the narrative into a dream-like space. Carried by Austin Butler’s impeccable acting, the film vacillates between feeling outlandishly surreal and poignantly real. Returning to my comment on the editing, I was especially impressed by the layering of multiple moments in a single scene. There is an effective disregard for the traditional cohesion and continuity of editing, which is at once innovative, impressive, and jarring. The film’s strength, however, is also its weakness: this style becomes overwhelming and tiresome at length. The film does not have a clear-cut third act, and thus seems to drag on in its second half; though perhaps this is purposeful and serves to emulate Elvis’ entrapment in the cogs of his own fame. Overall, the film’s visuals, sounds, and style are unique and will stick with me. This is truly a Baz Luhrmann film.      


Everything Everywhere All At Once: Controlled Chaos

Speaking of memorable visuals, Everything Everywhere All At Once offers another unique filmic experience. The powerful performances of Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, and Stephanie Hsu successfully negotiate both the absurd and emotionally charged nature of the film’s tone. It’s hard to find fault with this film. The formal elements continuously match its tonal shifts. The cinematography shifts between a stark realism and a vibrant ridiculousness, the editing intensifies and slows accordingly, and costumes and scenic elements have enormous range. This both challenges our expectations and gives us time to digest what the film offers us. It’s chaos, but a chaos which is controlled with an immense amount of precision. A balance is struck between the merging of these different elements, from which rich and complex fruits grow. The messaging of the film is thus ultimately nuanced: everything is everything, but it’s also only one thing, love. Simultaneity is both awful and incredible, and life is both painful and beautiful. The film explores the wide array of emotions that come with living, accentuating at once their absurdity and their significance. It reminds us that amidst all this chaos, we are the ones in control of creating meaning in our own lives.     

 

The Banshees of Inisherin: How Torn Hearts Bleed 

For me, this film stands out above all others, but that may just be my Irish heritage speaking. It takes the form of an exploration of hurt, of deep sorrow, of hatred for others, and of self-hatred, all of which are thematically tied to the history of Ireland over the last century. A small Irish island and the community on it acts as a microcosm for Irish society. The film is brilliant in its attempt to embody a process as complex as civil war through the most basic human relationship: friendship. Far from reductionist, the film offers all the drama of a friendship ending and the hurt which ensues at a local level. An immense amount of pain and sorrow is mixed with everyday concerns and behaviours, just as civil war grips all parts of life. The breath-taking, empty landscapes remind us that no corner of the Earth, and certainly of Ireland, is immune to this type of pain. The random escalation of this violence emulates the way violence on any scale does not always have explicit causes but is always, on some level, deeply personal. With a bleak ending, the film also reminds us that these wounds do not heal easily, and that the damage violence leaves behind always remains, even if there was seemingly no reason for it. This sentiment is aided by an unsettling score which emphasizes a sense of doom and tragedy underneath the film’s comedic tone, a juxtaposition which is deeply Irish. It goes without saying that the performances are tremendous in this dialogue-driven film. Many lines stand out, but one of the most poignant is at the end: “Some things there’s no moving on from.”  


Works Referenced:

https://filmquarterly.org/2020/09/30/the-work-of-art-in-the-age-of-flexible-inclusion-criteria/ 

 

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