The Oscar broke records of incompetence or surrealism without fun or the slightest interest by granting last year and without blushing infinite awards to a very boring, hypermodern and unbearable nonsense entitled Everything at once everywhere. I doubt that the solemn academic recognition of it by the industry would help that film to burst the box office, but I sense the astonishment of many of its occasional and clueless spectators when they wondered if that was the best that cinema had given birth to. that year what the rest would be like.
But in this edition Hollywood has bet on the safe side. In other words, he has awarded seven statuettes, including those that correspond to the lion's share, to Oppenheimer. He had sold a multitude of tickets, although considerably less than Barbie, that pinkish nonsense (I don't see myself capable of giving an opinion on its militant feminism or its soft feminism), and it was evident even to the slightly myopic that it was a more than acceptable film, made in a powerful way, talking about a transcendental character in the course of history (ask the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki), with areas of shadow, complex and contradictory, aware of their wisdom to invent and manage, wondering until the end about the usefulness or barbarity of having invented the bomb atomic bomb, an expendable crybaby – according to the ruthless definition of the resolute President Truman, adding that he never wants to see that son of a bitch in his office again. I have seen it twice and have never felt overwhelmed by its kilometer-long length.
Christopher Nolan has shown from the beginning that he was a director with personality, with visual power and a disturbing world. He demonstrated it in the notable Memento, Insomnia, The Dark Knight and Dunkirk. It has also created important tricks such as unintelligible Origin and Tenet. He was frequently nominated for an Oscar but never awarded it. You can now continue doing experiments backed by absolute success. Almost everything works in Oppenheimer. Also interpret them. Cillian Murphy is credible and disturbing. And he is sober, subtle, manipulative, evil and formidable, the almost always intense and exhibitionist Robert Downey, Jr. It's hard to recognize him until you see the credits.
Adoring much of the cinema that Scorsese has made, I must be the only viewer disappointed with The assassins of the moon. I can't stand those white exploiters, thieves and murderers who are so redneck, mediocre and evil. The only thing that fascinates me in her is the character of that suffering and poisoned Indian woman who is movingly played by the until then unknown Lily Gladstone. They have not rewarded her or the murky and unpleasant universe that Scorsese has created. They have preferred that rare and gifted actress called Emma Stone. She is the only brilliant thing in that sophisticated, aggressive, endless, provocative and avant-garde nonsense of the revolutionary Yorgos Lanthimos entitled Poor creatures. And I'm sorry that Those who stay, one of my favorite films of the year, beautiful, small and bittersweet, was only awarded for the moving performance of the human and obese Da'Vine Joy Randolph. Or that the recovered talent and sensitivity of Wim Wenders was not recognized in Perfect Days.
The ceremony did not seem as long as other times. And it didn't stand out for its dazzling numbers either, but everything turned out to be correct and the dedications were sober. The presenter does not remind me of the brilliant and corrosive Ricky Gervais, but he was very mentally agile when responding to Donald Trump after his attack on the social network Truth Social, owned by the former president, whom he despised with a sarcastic and devastating: “Hasn't it happened “And your time in jail?” And let's see what visits to the dark rooms have in store for us this year. His fight with the platforms is raw. But in any case, let us viewers have attractive things to bring to our eyes and ears in the cinemas or at home.
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