2022 Oscar Nominations (Reaction and Analysis)

It's that time again. Possibly as a response to last year's disaster of a telecast (the least watched Oscars ever) it was announced that there will be a host for the belated 94th Annual Academy Awards emanating from the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood on March 27th. Who that person will be is still a giant question mark, but we do now at least have nominations, as read this morning by actors Tracee Ellis Ross and Leslie Jordan. There weren't too many surprises or snubs, which could in large part be due to a thin, condensed field without a lot of alternatives. 

The question wasn't so much what or who would show up, but where and how prominently. And in that respect, the big winner was unquestionably Jane Campion's The Power of the Dog, which leads the pack with 12 nominations and now has to be considered the frontrunner to take home Best Picture. While questions of whether it would be too dark and morose for the Academy's tastes were quelled considerably this morning by its nomination haul, it still has to win, and with AMPAS desperately going back to ten Best Picture nominees, that's dicier than ever. 

Looking at the nomination list (which can be found here), it's mostly satisfying, with many films and actors thought to be on the bubble, or in jeopardy of being snubbed, managing to get in. Still, the Oscars have a perception problem and another year's batch of underseen contenders doesn't look like it'll fix that. This is okay since the Academy Awards are what they are and it would be far worse to nominate high-grossing movies just to pop a rating or attract a hypothetical audiences who probably won't watch the show anyway. And after last year, it's hard to blame them, circumstances notwithstanding. So, that's where we stand, with this morning's announcement serving to only reinforce a long standing belief that voters do what they want, independent of critical praise or box office receipts. Sometimes they get it right, sometimes they don't, but this was one of their better mornings. Let's look at the major talking points.

- The Power of the Dog cleaned up in a big way. Picture, Director (Campion), Adapted Screenplay (Campion again), Editing (Peter Sciberras), Cinematography (Ari Wegner), Supporting Actor (Jesse Plemons and Kodi Smit McPhee) and Supporting Actress (Kirsten Dunst). Examining other winners of the Big Prize from year's past, most of their nomination scorecards aren't this this stacked.

-Spider-Man: No Way Home was never getting nominated for Best Picture. And then we definitely knew for sure from its lack of technical notices and an editing nod. We've all figured out how the Academy works by now. This wasn't happening.

-Somewhat of a second wind for West Side Story, a critically beloved box office flop in serious danger of being shut out of Best Picture, even with ten slots. It didn't. The average age of voters (some of whom remember the original's 1961 victory) and the Spielberg factor likely helped. And Ariana DeBose not only gets in for Supporting Actress, but has a good shot at winning. A great day for this film, racking up a whopping 7 nods. Far better than anticipated. 

- Spencer's Kristen Stewart makes it. For a while, this was doubtful, to the point many were already declaring it the "big snub" before nominations were even announced. She'll be joining Jessica Chastain (The Eyes of Tammy Faye), Olivia Colman (Lost Daughter), Penelope Cruz (Parallel Mothers) and Nicole Kidman (Being the Ricardos). Other than maybe Cruz getting in, no real shocks except snubs for Licorice Pizza's Alana Haim (far from a given), West Side Story's Rachel Zegler (somewhat of a surprise) and House of Gucci's Lady Gaga (a bigger surprise). And while it wasn't going to happen, I would have jumped out of my seat if Jennifer Lawrence sneaked in for Don't Look Up. As of now, the smart money's on Kidman. 

-At this point, Will Smith's pretty much a lock for Best Actor for King Richard, with Cumberbatch his only possible threat. With his 10th career nomination for The Tragedy of Macbeth, Denzel Washington becomes the most nominated black actor of all-time. Bardem (Being the Ricardos) and Andrew Garfield (Tick, tick...Boom!) round out a field that lacks Peter Dinklage (Cyrano), Bradley Cooper (Nightmare Alley), Cooper Hoffman (Licorice Pizza), and most regrettably, Don't Look Up's Leonardo DiCaprio.

-Even fewer surprises in the supporting races, with maybe Judi Dench a slight one for Belfast, at least as far as anyone can be surprised when she's nominated, grabbing a slot some thought could go to Passing's Ruth Negga, or possibly Tessa Thompson. And some point, the conversation seemed to shift from King Richard's Saniyya Sidney to Aunjanue Ellis, now a first-time nominee. Cate Blanchett (Nightmare Alley) was left out in the cold while Lost Daughter's Jessie Buckley got in. It's looking more and more like DeBose and Dunst will be battling this out.   

-Bradley Cooper doing double duty in Nightmare Alley and Licorice Pizza may not have helped him, going 0 for 2 with both lead and supporting nods. Nothing for Jared Leto for his love it or hate it House of Gucci turn. Whether Jesse Plemons and Kodi Smit-Phee cancel each other out for The Power of the Dog will be something to watch for in a strangely thin Supporting Actor category. McPhee is the safest bet here, but Troy Kotsur could actually win for CODA, assuming J.K. Simmons (Being the Ricardos) or Ciaran Hinds (Belfast) don't manage a miraculous eleventh hour push.

- Dune predictably had a strong showing in nearly all the technical categories while maybe being the biggest beneficiary of an expanded Best Picture category. Let's face it: there's no way this gets in without more than five nominees. But it's also exactly the kind of big budget spectacle these extra slots were intended to provide an opportunity to. Whether it's entirely deserving is another issue, but I'd  rather see this there than a more flawed effort like Tick, tick...Boom! 

- You know it's a slow day when the biggest surprises are Ryusuke Hamaguchi's directing nomination for Drive My Car and an Original Screenplay nod for Joachim Trier's Worst Person in the World. But they're surprises nonetheless. Paul Thomas Anderson's inclusion (in both writing AND directing) would seem to improve Licorice Pizza's Best Picture fortunes, if not for the lack of an editing nod. 

-Campion, Branagh and Spielberg round out the group for Director, while Guillermo del Toro misses for Nightmare Alley. His popularity was at least enough to get it in for Best Picture despite some wildly mixed reactions. Dune's less polarizing, but its technical achievements still weren't enough to propel director Denis Villeneuve to a directing nomination. Unfortunately, Don't Look Up's Adam McKay wasn't really expected to get in here, settling instead for a well deserved Original Screenplay nod.

-With a Best Picture field this large, you do run the risk of filling slots for the sake of it, potentially watering down the nominees. And that's kind of what's happened. While it's fair to say Drive My Car and Nightmare Alley were the least expected inclusions (displacing Being the Ricardos and Tick, tick...Boom!), neither are exactly shocks. House of Gucci was just a loser all-around, missing everything and then some. CODA, King Richard and Dune fit into the "thanks for coming" category, a designation far fewer will now be assigning to West Side Story after this morning. Nothing PTA does can be dismissed outright, with Licorice Pizza being no exception. And the timeliness of Don't Look Up ensures its presence amongst voters who believe a Best Picture winner should say something about the current world in which we live. But Oscar night will likely come down to The Power of the Dog vs. Belfast, a showdown proving that as hard as the Academy may try to change, the more they stay the same.     

Being the Ricardos

Director: Aaron Sorkin
Starring: Nicole Kidman, Javier Bardem, J.K. Simmons, Nina Arianda, Tony Hale, Alia Shawkat, Jake Lacy, Clark Gregg, Christopher Denham, John Rubinstein, Linda Lavin, Ronny Cox
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Writer/director Aaron Sorkin's Being the Ricardos poses the question of how much an actor or actress's physical resemblance to an iconic public figure affects our perception of their performance. Even while conceding there's a lot more to acting than mimicry and imitation, Nicole Kidman's casting as Lucille Ball does push the envelope in terms of how points should be scored for embodying a person the performer looks or acts nothing like. It's been a discussion point since the first trailer, or maybe back further to when Cate Blanchett unexpectedly dropped out of the project. On paper, she was perfect for the role in every way, but things happen, and is often the case, another big name stepped in, causing many to question whether Kidman would be the right fit.

It's a credit to Kidman and Sorkin that the actress somehow makes it work, as well as the rest of the cast who who are frequently given more intriguing material than you'd expect. It's all very inside TV, providing glimpses into the pressures and challenges facing the first juggernaut sitcom of the medium's infancy. When Sorkin's focusing entirely on this, the film's at its best, which isn't to say that Lucy and Desi's tumultuous marriage holds no interest. As both personal and business partners, the two sub-plots are frequently intertwined, with Sorkin taking some creative license in jamming all the troubles facing the show and its star into one fateful week. That Kidman's casting has become such a point of debate is ironic considering she's playing a woman who was constantly told by studio executives she "just wasn't right" for the part, forcing Lucy to take matters into her own hands before experiencing true success. It then became a constant battle to hold on to it, consuming the comedy legend from the inside out as she hid her biggest fears and insecurities from the world.

Mostly taking place within one chaotic week of rehearsals and preparation for a 1953 live filming of I Love Lucy, Lucy (Kidman) must deal with tabloid rumors of Desi's (Javier Bardem) infidelity and a newspaper article declaring her a Communist, despite being cleared of the allegation in a HUAC hearing months earlier. On top of that, the couple are also attempting to convince CBS and sponsor Philip Morris to write Lucy's pregnancy into the show, which isn't just unheard of for television at the time, but downright scandalous considering their married characters aren't allowed to even sleep in the same bed. 

As Lucy's marital and creative frustrations begin boiling over, she clashes with writer/producer and show runner Jess Oppenheimer (Tony Hale) and new director Donald Glass (Christopher Denham) over certain scenes, while also taking the writing team of Bob Carroll (Jake Lacy) and Madelyn Pugh (Alia Shawkat) to task over the dumbing down of her character. Before long, even co-stars William Frawley (J.K. Simmons) and Vivian Vance's (Nina Arianda) patience starts to wear thin when it comes to Lucy's obsessive perfectionism. The root of that is revealed through flashbacks when the young RKO-contracted actress met Cuban band leader and actor Desi Arnaz, while "interviews" with an older Oppenheimer (John Rubenstein), Pugh (Linda Lavin) and Carroll (Ronny Cox) frame the events leading up to that week's memorable live show.

It may seem odd that Lucille Ball's life is upstaged by the more compelling backstage machinations and ego clashes that go into creating a television sitcom, until you remember how big this show was and who's making the film. If the knock against Sorkin has always been that he's a far better writer than director, of the three projects he's helmed, this could be the most practical example yet of the theory. While adequately directed, it's still a writer's movie through and through and there's probably no one better equipped to believably bringing a TV writing room to life than him. Unsurprisingly, these are the scenes that really click, detailing the battles Lucy wages over the show's content, as dictated by the network, but trickling down to producer Oppenheimer and his writers. In a way, they're all casualties of their own enormous success, as a sitcom that brings in a staggering 60 million viewers is a reliable cash cow that won't be given much leeway from the network to experiment, potentially compromising its creative direction.

Sorkin's fly-on-the-wall approach is appreciated, especially in regards to the nuts and bolts of what makes comedy scenes work. Since I Love Lucy is a classic remembered for pioneering an entire genre, there's an existing perception of flawlessness, at least by the time it made air. He demystifies that, recognizing that any show is rife with issues, while giving credit to Lucy for taking the initiative to correct and tweak every one, whether or not the staff agrees. And most of the time she's completely right about everything, even as her aggressive, frequently insensitive approach alienates rather than inspires. It's an uphill battle for Lucy that Desi couldn't possibly understand as a man capable of smooth talking his way out of any predicament, occasionally losing his temper, but ultimately getting everything he wants in the end. That Desi often commands more respect as a producer than Lucy is a cruel turn considering she was the one who strong armed the network into hiring him as her co-star.

Bardem captures all these contradictions so well, dispelling preconceptions that Desi wasn't a talented performer in his own right.  His performance is such that it doesn't come off as if he's outright controlling Lucy, but subtly gaslighting her in way that fills the actress with self-doubt, thinking that nothing's ever good enough in this continuous quest to "keep" him. The smoothest of players, he even offsets his infidelity with what seems like a tireless professional loyalty to Lucy that rarely extends to their actual marriage. Bardem deserves a lot of credit for bringing all these dimensions to someone most associate as just being along for the ride. Whether it's true they'd be no Desi without her, Bardem situates him in the driver's seat more often than not, even making him remarkably likable while doing it. He also really impresses in the sitcom reenactment scenes, which all play better than expected due to the comedic chops of those involved.

The flashbacks and staged interviews are somewhat redundant, underlining what's already evident in the '53 segments that detail Lucy's week from hell. If you can get past the fact Kidman looks nothing like Ball and rarely attempts to vocally inflect her, there's a lot to appreciate in what she does with the material, which treats her as a real person who should be played as such. The actress excels in conveying the deep seeded feelings of inadequacy that cause Lucy to micromanage the creative process, while Sorkin shows us with read throughs, run throughs and rehearsals that she's not wrong. Tony Hale hits it out of the park with what's probably his most memorable big screen supporting role thus far far as the frazzled show runner attempting to keep it all together, given the unenviable task of pleasing both Desi and Lucy while still keeping them in line. 

Hale's former Arrested Development co-star Alia Shawkat also makes a huge impression as Madelyn Pugh, the lone female writer and sounding board for Lucy as she tries to push her more progressive ideas through, while Nina Arianda's take on Vivian Vance successfully navigates the strain of being Ethel to Lucille's Lucy and screen wife to William Frawley's much older Fred. Arianda doesn't get a ton of screen time, but she makes the most of it, especially in one dynamic scene opposite Kidman, who shows us there were few limits to whom and what Lucy perceived as threats to her career. And the great J.K. Simmons breathes more complexity into the hard drinking, wisecracking Frawley than one would guess from his character's hysterically dry and cranky demeanor, proving to be Lucy's most unlikely friend and supporter during a tough stretch.

Given all the justifiable reservations concerning whether Kidman fits this role, she's the common denominator in all of this, often anchoring the film's best scenes, be it comedic or otherwise. If the ending's very literally a real crowd pleaser, it's simultaneously a downer as well, forcing audiences to reconcile two Lucys. One was a trailblazing talent that delighted generations with her talent while the other felt constantly insecure and diminished, as if nothing was ever good enough, especially when it came to Desi. Through that lens, the end of her show and marriage could have been an unexpected triumph, enabling Lucy to start a new chapter where she could spread her creative wings without limitations. But even while remaining a force in front of and behind the camera for years to come, it would be impossible to reach these heights again, with Sorkin doing a thorough job exploring exactly why.