Film Club 3000: A Journal on the History of Film - Issue 004

About Film Club 3000

06 11 16 29 05 36 25

Letter From the Editor

Kemari Bryant

Snub Corner Contributors

Awards Sippers

Cameron Linly Robinson

ESSAYS

Analyzing a Monster:

Cameron Linly Robinson 01

Breaking Down Charlize Theron’s Best

Actress-Winning Performance

Robert Karmi

Not For Your Consideration:

Why James Gunn is Overdue for a Screenplay Oscar C.C. Lilford

The Unexpected Oscar Wins: How Frail

Our Souls Can Be

Harrisa Bakllava

Looking Movie Posters Right in the Eye

Theodoti Sivridi

A Look Back at Tom Jones

A Best Picture Retrospective

Robert Karmi

Mis-en-scene: Light, Movement, & Power

Analyzing Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog

Issue 004 | Mar/April 2024

ABOUT FILM CLUB 3000

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF KEMARI BRYANT

MANAGING EDITOR

CAMERON LINLY ROBINSON

CONTRIBUTORS

ROBERT KARMI

C.C. LILFORD

HARISSA BAKLLAVA

THEODOTI SIVRIDI

COVER ART TREY VANTERPOOL

ALL VIEWS AND OPINIONS ARE THOSE OF THE AUTHORS AND DO NOT NECCESSARILY REPRESENT THE VIEWS HELD BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF.

WEBSITE FILMCLUB3000.COM

INSTAGRAM @FILMCLUB3000

CONTACT FILMCLUB3000@GMAIL.COM

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

Dear Readers,

Awards season is always an exciting time for the film fan. We get to not only consume an ungodly amount of films representative of the previous year’s best, but also band together and voice our complaints about every piece of cinema that was unjustly snubbed. Everyone has an opinion, and awards season is just the time for everyone from casual film fan to prognosticator to shout their own loudly from the mountaintops.

2023 was an epic year for movies, and it only felt appropriate to create an issue honoring those films — but we wanted to go a step further with issue 004 of Film Club 3000. Our goal is to honor the very idea of film awards, in particular the Academy Award that have served as an essential piece of film history since its inception in 1929.

I spent a majority of early 2024 consuming a great book called “Oscar Wars: A History of Hollywood in Gold, Sweat, and Tears” by Michael Shulman. “Oscar Wars” chronicles the history of the Academy awards through analyzing different ceremonies, a method we chose to mimic during this series’ companion podcast. It’s fascinating to look at the Academy’s beginning, serving as an invite only elite club that would facilitate contract disputes between actors and producers — a sort of pre-union union that oftentimes seemed to favor producers over any other creative. Overtime the organization has evolved into an arts organization with a goal to “advance the arts and sciences of motion pictures”.

In 1925 the Masquers Club was created — a group formed by actors upset with grueling on-set conditions in Hollywood. This eventually led to the creation of the Screen Actors Guild in 1933, an epic move that sliced Academy membership in half and almost led to the death of the Academy Awards as a whole. Almost 100 years later, SAG and WGA members went on strike for better contract deals and were successful.

This anecdote goes to prove the repetition of our history, and just how young film is as an industry. The Academy Awards have served as our history book for 96 years, and it will perservere for years to come.

Enjoy, to 3000 and beyond,

Kemari Bryant | Editor-in-Chief

Analyzing a Monster: Breaking Down Charlize Theron’s

Best Actress-Winning Performance

BY ROBERT KARMI

On March 30th, 1992, at the 64th Academy Awards ceremony, Johnathan Demme’s serial killer procedural The Silence of the Lambs became the first, and so far, only, horror film to win Best Picture. In that film, Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster), a woman FBI agent, confronts a world of patriarchal oppression via her male dominated workplace and a series of masculine serial killers that target women as recipients of violence. Almost nineteen months later, Nick Broomfield’s documentary, Aileen Wuornos: The Selling of a Serial Killer, centered on the titular figure, a former prostitute turned man slayer, and the director’s attempts to meet her, made its stateside premiere. That film represented Aileen as a figure caught in several abusive cycles, from a media interested in only sensationalizing a story of the “first” woman serial killer, and those who exploit her for financial gain.

Like Starling, Wuornos was likewise targeted by patriarchal abusers, but unlike Starling, the recipients of Wuornos’ violence weren’t serial killers, but average men. Some were rapists, according to her, and at least one confirmed via an outstanding charge against him, but others were not, as it would come out during the trials and by Wuornos’ own at times contradictory testimony. As such, Wuornos became a fixture for study, even to the point of Broomfield making another documentary about her a decade after the first, Life and Death of a Serial Killer (2004), and a continuing debate about the vindication of her actions persists to this day.

One year before the release of the second documentary, debuting writer-director Patty Jenkins, who had her own correspondence with Wuornos, made a biopic based on her titled Monster, starring Charlize Theron as the titular killer and Christina Ricci as her lover. The film, primarily interested in the period in which she was active as a serial killer and her relationship with Tyria Moore (renamed Shelby for the film), depicts her killings as both literally and symbolically retaliatory against patriarchy, from her rapist to men she believed would rape her given the chance. Theron, who Broomfield had sent copies of his two documentaries on Wuornos for research, would go on to win the Academy Award for Best Actress that year, the only category the film received a nomination within.

One can easily imagine that the film might have become lost in the shuffle of prestigious biopics from the era, yet the film has remained visible since its release. Certainly, it is in large part due to the phenomenal reputation of its central performance, hailed at the time as amongst the best seen by its onlookers, yet I would argue that the film exists within an interesting intersection of events, preceding some major trends within filmmaking we are still seeing to the contemporary moment. The film acts as an earlier example of a film with an unconventional, “difficult” leading lady, a film that further solidified our own growing interest in true crime stories and would lay down the feminist bonafides of both the leading lady and lady filmmaker behind the camera.

Part of the reason we cannot get over Monster is due to Theron’s performance as Wuor-

nos, which allowed her the rare opportunity to transform in such a way that women are typically not allowed to do within prestigious filmmaking. When compared to their male counterparts, who are frequently praised for lathering on makeup to appear more like the real-life subjects they emulate for these biographies, there are considerably fewer likewise roles and opportunities for women. The history of the Best Actress category, littered with women bearing themselves emotionally raw, has nevertheless still presented them in as archetypical pleasurable a way as possible, at once in service to the male gaze and for fear of alienating the audience. Theron’s turn as Wuornos refuses that by specifically layering a woman often seen as one of the most beautiful people in the world, even at that time, under makeup and a physical transformation that made her look more like Wuornos.

This transformation was so effective that it became the one universal truth of the film; it had painstakingly reconstituted Theron within the physicality of Wuornos. There’s an undercurrent of misogyny to the reception of this performance. The actual craft of Theron’s performance, creating interiority beyond a service level mimicry of Wuornos that even on the surface is impressive, is downplayed in consideration of the incredible physical transformation. It is as if the critics themselves are more captivated by the fantastic mask Theron is wearing as opposed to the mentally and physically demanding performance that she is giving, which in of itself, feels remarkably appropriate for a film in which asks us for emotional and psychological sympathy, to look below the surface of traumatic violence and seeming physical ugliness.

Part of the film’s appeal has since become the issue of it as a representation of a difficult woman. Within television theory, the idea of the difficult man, i.e., an amoral and duplicitous protagonist who is nevertheless asked for us to be sympathetic and compassionate towards has been a traditionally hypermasculine fixation. So, by making Monster, a film which asks us for that same sort of emotional empathy and understanding for a woman who kills and steals from men, it challenges our perceptions of what is acceptable for a woman. We might accept such behavior from a man, fulfilling a romantic

duty to provide a better life for his lover, but would we do so for a woman? By this, Wuornos may almost become a sapphic Travis Bickle, another lonely soul pulled to violence through trauma and a search for love. Whether or not we are capable of viewing someone who is in fact a murderer in such a light, especially a character inspired by a killer who in life seemed an unreliable narrator of her own experience, remains a separate nuance entirely.

The problem therein becomes whether Wuornos as a specific subject is worthy of being put through that artistic lens. By that, can someone like her be a difficult protagonist divorced from her real-life deeds? Her biographer, Sue Russell, opined in the Washington Post that Wuornos was much more complicated and not necessarily an unimpeachable victim. She noted that part of her testimony was admitting that she thought she could get away with a lie based upon the decaying body of her victim. While I see where Russell is coming from, I would argue that Jenkins makes the ambiguous validity of Wuornos’ killings a central point of the film. Jenkins’ decision to do this not only creates a more complicated portrait of the subject, but also allows the audience to consider their own feelings on her actions: if Wuornos is more than a simple victim of intersecting spheres of abuse, and that she herself may have likewise become a perpetuator of that violence, how do we begin to consider her actions? Do we see her valid for killing men who likely had raped and might rape again? Do we see her as a vigilante co-opting feminism to make herself righteous above others? It is, fittingly, a difficult discourse to parse out.

Further there is an issue with classism represented via the reception of the film, wherein Theron’s performance very quickly became a punchline unto itself within the broader pop culture. Lost in the shuffle is the consideration of her performance as a performance, it became more about how one of the most conventionally attractive women in the world transformed into something antithetical to that, which in turn became ripe comedy fodder. In effect it becomes a reminder that those who are considered less conventionally attractive, and more specifically those who cannot afford to become more conventionally attractive, become viewed as less empathetic than those who are conventionally attractive, especially when you consider how the film makes Theron look like mid-forties Wuornos and not her as she was in her

The problem therein becomes whether Wuornos as a specific subject is worthy of being put through that artistic lens.

early thirties. This plays into the ableism of how frequently we use the visual shorthand of ugliness or disability as a signifier for evil, of which this film is marginally guilty of, even when it is obstinately sympathetic towards her.

All of this works in tandem with the sordid nature of true crime fictionalization that has been a contentious issue since Truman Capote first

CHARLIZE THERON IN MONSTER.

wrote “In Cold Blood”. As recently as Ryan Murphy’s Jeffrey Dahmer series for Netflix, there has been contention about depicting such recent tragedies on the screen while families of survivors and victims relive these traumatic events as popular spectacle. It also invites a consumer grade entry point into these rather difficult and touchy subjects, wherein amateur detectives, investigators, and reporters discuss these materials and happenings in ways without the proper thoughtfulness and ethics considerations of those who are more traditionally trained to handle such subjects. This has less to do with Monster specifically as a film in 2003, even though there are several who claim her as a faultless agent in her crimes, but more so to do with the proliferation and popularization of true crime as a subcategory of media unto itself.

Yet despite these issues, Monster would end up helping create the modern feminist blockbuster landscape within which we currently live in. Not only would Patty Jenkins end up making history as the woman who directed the initial cycle of pop-feminist Wonder Woman movies for Warner Brothers, Theron would go on to star in her own feminist blockbuster, George Miller’s Mad Max Fury Road. The success of these two projects both critically and commercially laid the groundwork for increased presence of women both behind and in front of the camera within popular Hollywood filmmaking. Further, it has subsequently also led to stranger, more varied representations of femininity both behind and in front of the camera within independent spheres. Likewise, the emergence of a much more difficult and not so easily palatable feminine cinema has emerged since Monster, especially the works of Julia Ducournau, who likewise made a womanly serial killer thriller with Titane (2021).

Monster, both as a standalone work and as one finding itself a forebearer for later films to come, is a uniquely thorny and at times difficult film to grapple with. Yet it is also clearly a work painstakingly crafted, empathetic to the struggles of the worst among us so that we can have greater empathy for those who are less demanding. It is a work that finds itself at the crossroads of several intersecting discourses at once, and nevertheless remains a fascinating work unto itself. Like its titular subject matter in Aileen Wuornos, we likely will never truly definitively qualify the film

....a work painstakingly crafted, empathetic to the struggles of the worst among us so that we can have greater empathy for those who are less demanding

in absolute terms, instead submerging in the ambiguity it asks of us as viewers, and it is the better film for doing so.

Snub Corner

In this issue we asked our contributors to let us know their opinions on the most egregious Oscar snubs of the 2024 season.

Do you agree?

C.C. says...

PRISCILLA

Sofia Coppola will go down in history as one of those filmmakers like Martin Scorsese whose best director Oscar will be met with a chorus of ‘Finally!’. She has long proven herself as a commanding formalist and an artist fascinated with the internal lives of seemingly privileged women and the societies they inhabit who don’t understand them. With Priscilla she tells that story in possibly its most challenging form, the tale of the imprisoned wife of a pop culture god. A young woman caught up in the dream of being the wife of the biggest superstar in the world only to find it a velvet nightmare.

Priscilla’s story is one of a woman struggling with agency, a woman who’s day to day life is one of confinement, monotony and isolation. When Priscilla first arrives in Graceland we are caught up in the spectacle of it, by the end of the film the audience is left with a nervous anxiety at the sight of the walls we feel as if we’ve been trapped

in as well. Priscilla is a film that forces us to re-examine our understanding of Elvis, confronted with him as a domineering man, and a groomer more interested in having a doll to dress up and come home to than an equal partner.

This film should have swept the nominations, adapted screenplay, costume, hair & makeup, best actress in a leading role for Cailee Spaeny, best actor in a supporting role for Jacob Elordi, best picture, and best director. The absence of Sophia Coppola’s Priscilla from the academy awards in any of these categories is an embarrassment. It is either an embarrassment for A24 for not putting together a ‘For Your Consideration’ campaign, or it’s an embarrassment for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for one of the most egregious snubs in recent memory.

Or possibly both.

Not For Your Consideration: Why James Gunn is Overdue for a Screenplay Oscar

BY C.C. LILFORD

It is not hyperbole to say that writer-director James Gunn will go down as one of the most influential blockbuster directors of the 2010s/2020s. Consider how his approach to Guardians of the Galaxy changed the look and style acceptable for the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Consider as well that Gunn’s style is so recognizable to the average audience member that when the poster and trailer for Borderlands debuted earlier this year the immediate criticism was that it was simply aping James Gunn’s vibrant style.

The thing that has remained consistent about Gunn as he gets more confident in his style is his intuitive skill as a screenwriter. Given that we are six films into his career as a writer-director (with the films he wrote and directed being the best example of his screenwriting, as they lack interference) it is shocking that his films have not been recognized for their writing. I don’t know if the studios behind him aren’t putting together ‘for your consideration’ campaigns or if the academy is ignoring them or both. But either way James Gunn is long overdue for recognition as a screenwriter for the academy of motion picture arts and sciences.

I’m going to start by discussing the three films that should have been recognized for their superb writing but were never realistically going to, Slither, Super, and The Suicide Squad

The problem is that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences are not content to be the arbiters of quality for cinema, they must also be the guardians of taste. This brings them into direct confrontation with filmmakers like James Gunn who is a provocateur, one who has learned how to adjust his style when needed, but one who delights in challenging the artistic establishment and its definitions of good taste.

Therefore, even though all three of these films are exceptionally well written, they have just a little too much bite and are just a little bit too challenging for academy sensibilities.

2006’s Slither is an unassuming film from a writing perspective upon initial inspection. Gunn is clearly operating in the tradition of ‘alien invades small town’ films like Invaders from Mars, and The Blob A first time viewer would be forgiven for thinking that Gunn is merely bringing an escalated sense of carnage and a revelry for the grotesque. But upon closer inspection the genius of Slither is that Gunn is mining the concept for untapped dramatic and thematic potential. The Blob for example is a film that focuses more on the spectacle of the outer-worldly event than the internal lives of the characters, by contrast the outer-worldly plot of Slither is driven by what is essentially a domestic drama.

JAMES GUNN ON THE SET OF THE GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY (2014).

The central couple Grant and Starla Grant (Michael Rooker and Elizabeth Banks respectively) are dysfunctional even before the aliens show up. He’s an insecure possessive man who doesn’t seem to understand that his behavior is pushing away his wife, who seems to still love him but longs for the man she knew him as rather than the man he had become. When he later encounters the alien and becomes patient zero his worst traits are quite literally mutated to monstrous extremes as the alien itself seeks to spread and dominate. But because Starla truly cares for him it is she in the film’s finale who must try and reach him. The film then becomes about the struggles of an estranged couple trying to reconnect while also being about alien parasites, zombies, gore, and a certain gross-out sensibility, Shoot the Moon meets Night of the Creeps. Gunn seeing the potential for this within the alien invades small town genre and equally committing to both of these aspects of the film is a testament to his ability as a screenwriter.

If Slither was a film that the academy would never acknowledge for its gore then Super (2010) is a film that is so confrontational and so deliberately unpleasant that most viewers (including myself) have a hard time with it. But if you are able to look past all the off putting elements of the film you’ll discover a vulnerable character study.

The character in question is a man named Frank Darbo (Rainn Wilson) who decides to become a superhero to ‘rescue’ his ex-girlfriend (Liv Tyler) from her new drug dealer boyfriend (Kevin Bacon). Gunn is fascinated by the kind of person who’s response to a crisis is to not only turn to violence but put on a brightly colored costume to do it. Frank’s decision to become a ‘superhero’ is motivated by his fundamentalist Christian upbringing, the influence of pseudo ‘Bibleman’ type tv show and silver age secular comic books. These are all combined to create a very black and white sense of morality that, combined with a tenuous grasp on reality and feelings of frustrated rage, unleashes genuine carnage upon the world as Frank runs around in a bright red costume armed with a monkey wrench. Furthermore Gunn’s refusal to aestheticize the violence

or to shirk away from the uglier implications of the events unfolding onscreen, making it a truly brutal ‘anti-superhero’ film. But the film never loses empathy for Frank, in fact you understand Frank’s internal workings so completely that you feel alienated from the larger world within the film. Super is a rich film but a demanding one, and in that seeming contradiction exists its brilliance.

While chronologically taking place after Gunn had worked on two Guardians films for Disney and Marvel, The Suicide Squad feels like the spiritual successor to Slither and Super. It is just as provocative and shocking but it’s also just as layered, just as driven by theme, and its formalism is just as pronounced. But here Gunn introduces an evolution that makes the film a true wonder, a truly complex narrative structure.

The film can be thought of as the sort of ‘guys on a mission’ story that was especially popular in blockbusters in the 60s, following a team of soldiers on a daring mission. But it firmly exists within the edgier side of those types of films like The Dirty Dozen, or Von Ryan’s Express or Hornet’s Nest. What Gunn understands however is that while audiences go into these films knowing that most of the characters will die they subconsciously understand that there will be a few characters who are the ‘main character’ who will survive to the end. To make the film more exciting and more challenging Gunn

STILL FROM THE DIRTY DOZEN (1967).

STILL FROM VON RYAN’S EXPRESS (1965).

STILL FROM FROM THE SUICIDE SQUAD (2021).

removes these training wheels and gives all of the characters in The Suicide Squad equal narrative weight, and with that an added vulnerability. Even as someone who studies narrative academically there were deaths in The Sucide Squad that I truly did not expect but also deaths that didn’t happen just to be shocking but make narrative sense. Gunn makes it clear that his characters are not good people and are just as much a danger to each other as their enemies are, tying into his larger themes about performative destructive masculinity and the self destructive paradoxes of American patriotism.

I cannot stress enough how important it is that Gunn gives these characters equal narrative weight, the film is mostly linear but will backtrack to bring us up to speed on important information from certain characters in order to make sure that we know what they were doing at certain points and why. It’s the sort of story that fragments to follow characters and rejoins to bring them back together multiple times, this is extremely difficult writing as it means you have a lot of plates to spin and information to keep track of. This is why films like the Fox X-Men films will bill themselves as ensembles but will have an obvious main character that the narrative can fall back on from time to time. It’s simply easier to write an ensemble action piece this way, but Gunn chose the hard way and makes it look easy.

But, whatever merits the film has with especially complex narrative structure once again have to be offset by its provocative elements. And not only does The Suicide Squad have all the gore, body horror, and sex that you expect from a James Gunn film but it adds a politically provactive element, referencing and condemning America’s long history of shady political meddling in Latin America. It’s the kind of thing that the Academy can sometimes recognize but not from a mainstream film meant for popular entertainment.

The Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy, deserves to go down as one of the best cinematic trilogies. Beaten out in the blockbuster world only by Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings

There are loosely three types of trilogy,

episodic, narrative and thematic. Episodic trilogies are where each installment is a self contained narrative (often with a recurring character) and there just happen to be trilogies. Narrative trilogies are the classical model, a story told over three installments, the platonic ideal of this model is Lord of the Rings, with the original and prequel Star Wars trilogies right behind. Then there are thematic trilogies where the connective tissue is an idea or a theme that the filmmaker is exploring.

With Guardians of the Galaxy, James Gunn has the patience and the command of story structure to hit all three, the guardians films all function as stand alone adventures but they also tie together into one long story when you watch them in sequence. Gunn also has a particular theme that lies at the heart of the trilogy and is explored in different ways in each, the search for love between people struggling with trauma.

If my discussions of his other films hadn’t made that clear, Gunn is a filmmaker profoundly interested in the affects of familial trauma upon human connection. As children we learn how to interact with the world through our relationships with our parents, if that process is interfered with it results in life long issues with trust, self image, and other issues as individuals who dealt with familiar trauma struggle to relate to others (as it was never modeled for them) and also feel a self sabotaging drive to protect themselves and keep people away out of fear of being hurt.

Gunn understands all this better than just about any filmmaker in the blockbuster space, every one of the Guardians (except Groot, and Drax but Drax has his own trauma) were abused as children and are still learning how to interact with the world. One of the Gunn’s magic tricks is taking the kind of cool guy talk, jokes and quippy one liners that are popular in comic books movies and having his characters essentially use it as a shield, creating these cool, funny or sarcastic personas that they think are protecting them that are actually interfering with true understanding. And because Gunn structured the Guardians of the Galaxy films as a narrative trilogy the guardians are in a different place in each installment. The first film is about

them coming together, putting aside their protective armor enough to form connections, the second film is about the struggle to maintain those connections against the instinct to self sabotage, and the third is about finally getting to a place where you’ve healed, not fully, but enough that the world isn’t quite as scary a place and you can go out into it seeking new connections with a true understanding of your most vulnerable self. This is why (especially after the film got so much love from figures like Al Pacino and Steven Spielberg) I had hoped that the third film would receive an Oscar nomination as kind of a retroactive recognition of the trilogy as a whole like Return of the King’s Oscar sweep in 2004.

Within the Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy I want to highlight Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.2 as the single film of James Gunn that should have been nominated for the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay as it represents Gunn’s best work as a screenwriter.

Of the Guardians trilogy, Vol.2 is the strongest drama. The other two are still phenomenal movies but they feel more tied to action, Vol.2 by contrast does not have as much action as the other two because so much of it’s runtime is drama set pieces, conversations between characters, moments of introspection and such. There is action but it’s something of a Tarantino effect: the action is so good it makes you think that the film has more action in it than there is.

There’s a scene at the beginning of the film where the guardians fight the Abilisk for the Sovereign, there’s the chase scene through the quantum asteroid field, there’s Rocket’s fight with the Ravagers in the forest of the planet Bern, there’s the scene where Rocket, Groot and Yondu get Yondu’s head fin and escape the mutinous ravagers, there’s the fight between Nebula and Gamora (which actually turns into a more dramatic confrontation), and there’s the extensive final confrontation with Ego the Living Planet. That’s only six action set pieces in a mainstream Hollywood blockbuster, it’s almost difficult to call this a straight action film when there’s more scenes of people talking than of people shooting each other. This is not to imply that people talking make something a drama, every one of the guardians is wrestling with personal conflict that tie into the trilogy’s main theme of how hard it is to be vulnerable enough for connection as a survivor of trauma. Gamora and Nebula realize that the conflict that defined their lives was created by

their abusive father, Quill is torn between his biological father Ego (who seems perfect at first but is actually one of the most evil villains in the MCU, courtesy of a brilliant performance by Kurt Russell) and his adoptive father Yondu (who actually loves Quill like a son but doesn’t know how to express it because of his own trauma), Rocket Raccoon is struggling with the new vulnerability he feels now that he has people who care about him and is trying to sabotage this new connections by pushing everyone away to keep himself safe, newcomer Mantis is also struggling against her father Ego while building a connection with Drax who sees her a surrogate daughter figure, and Yondu (arguably one of the antagonists of the last film) is wrestling with feeling old and having pushed away everyone in his life who cared about him, from his fellow Ravagers to his adoptive son Quill. Yondu and Rocket’s arcs in the film are direct parallels to each other with Yondu seeing Rocket making all the same mistakes he did when he was younger and Rocket slowly coming to see Yondu as the person he might become.

It’s a movie where characters struggle to say what they actually mean, it avoids what Paul Schrader calls ‘linear dialogue’ where characters perfectly and directly communicate information to each other and the audience. The Guardians struggle, and the moments where they say what they really mean are moments of pain and vulnerability

“You’re the one who wanted to win, and I just wanted a sister!”

“I know who you are, boy, because you’re me.”

“He didn’t chase them away after all.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do none of it right, but i’m damn lucky you’re my boy.”

Six excellently written films and not even a nomination to show for them, I hold out hope for James Gunn to have his day. At the time of this writing he is shooting a reboot of Superman and since every James Gunn film manages to be better (or at least of equal quality) than the last film he made I hold out hope that maybe this will be the one that is so good he is at least nominated.

And even if it isn’t, the man shows no signs of slowing down.

THE UNEXPECTED OSCAR WINS

BY HARISSA BAKLlAVA

Every year while we are watching a film we usually do it to entertain ourselves with comedies or even put ourselves through depression with dramas. But in the back of our mind a small judge exists, where we judge the performances. And sometimes a majority of us agree on a clear winner for the Best Actor or Actress. And then, the Oscars come around with the famous line “ And the oscar goes to…” and somehow someone wins who you didn’t even consider as worthy. So I would like to take you on a small trip down memory lane to the winners that won the golden man but not the hearts of the people.

Elizabeth Taylor: BUtterfield 8 (1961)

We all know how great Elizabeth Taylor was. What an incredible actress and an icon, but her professional life was not always the center of attention. Scandals revolved around her, more in regards to her personal life, than her professional life. But I believe that she lived her life in the way she wanted without thinking how the public perceived her, and for that she is a badass.

But I am here to talk about the scandal of her winning at the 33th Oscars for her Best Lead Actress performance in BUtterfield 8, a movie that I personally had never seen or heard of before researching for this article. But let’s take a small step behind, and understand how that happened.

In 1960 she filmed BUtterfield 8, which was a huge box office success and eventually became a contender for the 1961 Oscars. Taylor in BUtterfield 8 plays a call girl, something that MGM thought would be the perfect role for Taylor. Why? Well because they thought that the public would associate her with that role and go watch the film, which unfortunately they did. Taylor herself hated the movie, but it was the last movie that tied her with MGM, and MGM took advantage of that. Also critics, unfortunately, focused on how she looked in the movie rather than her acting.

In 1961, she was on set filming Cleopatra. While she was filming, two major things happened: first, she fell ill with pneumonia that put her into a coma and had to do a tracheotomy so she could breathe, and second, while she was battling pneumonia, the Oscar voters had the ability to vote for that year’s nominations. In between those two events the media went

crazy, and they were reporting that she was dead every day. That, for some reason, gave her “pity” votes, and six weeks after her illness she arrives at the Oscars, and ultimately wins for Best Actress. For MGM that was a huge win, and for Taylor that was her first Academy Award.

Although I believe that she was good in BUtterfield 8, I don’t think it was her best work, and in the same category that year was a more worthy winner than her: Deborah Kerr. She was a great actress with a great range, but she was not the favorite at MGM. Now, being a favorite back then was the way to get more award recognition. Because the problem with the Oscars that we see nowadays existed way before our time. So even though she would give incredible performances, and get nominated for them, she would never win.

At the 1961 Oscars she was nominated for her role in Sundowners. Her performance was better than Taylor’s. You forget that she plays a character, and therefore feel for her as if she was a real person. You feel her pain and understand her struggles. You get immersed in the story, because of her. But it wasn’t enough. She was never shown in the media as much as Taylor, not because she was better than Taylor, but because most of the roles she played were the honorable woman, the great wife. Nothing extreme, even if she gave the best dramatic performances.

So although both women deserved their place in that category, the winner that year was based on feelings and favoritism and not critical thinking.

Gwyneth Paltrow: Shakespeare in Love (1999)

Last year there was a big conversation around nepotism, and the new wave of actors that came from already established actors, directors, etc. But that is something that has happened through the decades in Hollywood, and Paltrow is the biggest example of nepotism. Did she take advantage of that? Yes. Did she deserve to win at the 1999’s Oscars for her performance in Shakespeare In Love? No. Was it her fault? No. Let me explain.

Shakespeare in Love was a Miramax movie, and if you don’t know why that is important to highlight you probably don’t know the founder of Miramax. I am sorry to break the news to you, but it was Harvey Weinstein, the predator and convicted sex offender that ruined people’s lives. That guy. He was the reason that Paltrow won her first and only Oscar, because not only was he a bad human, but also a con-man. It’s said that he went berserk for the marketing of Shake-

speare in Love. He lobbied with Oscar voters to vote for his film instead of Saving Private Ryan, or any other movie. His actions were illegal, but the voters were convinced by him that SIL was the better voting option in every category. And it worked: they won 7 Oscars, and one of them was for Best Actress which went to Paltrow instead of… Cate Blanchett.

If you want to see a great movie with great performances that year, you wouldn’t choose Shakespeare in Love, instead you would choose Elizabeth. Cate Blanchett is a powerhouse of a performer. She has showcased her talent over and over again. In Elizabeth, she plays a young Queen Elizabeth I that is thrown into ruling an England ready to fall apart and also to get married and create an heir. With that we get a performance that evokes how women were treated back then and a similarity to how women are still treated.

But instead we got to see Paltrow win that Oscar and on top of that thank Weinstein for his support.

Casey Affleck: Manchester by the Sea (2017)

In my research I found out that these kinds of “scandals” involve mostly women. Which is weird, since a lot of men have had nominations for movies they didn’t act as well in. But in the case of Casey Affleck that was not the reason.

His performance in Manchester by the Sea, cemented him as a great actor, an actor that was walking in the shadows of his brother Ben Affleck his whole life, but now he shows he can stand by himself and do a great job at acting, maybe even better than his brother. But that doesn’t mean he is the greatest guy ever, and this ladies and gentlemen is the problem with Hollywood and their awards. Most of the time Oscars indirectly defend horrible men - mostly white - by giving them opportunities and giving them awards, hiding what kind of people they really are. Because I am of the belief that

GWYNETH

you cannot separate the art from the artist, and because someone is a great actor (*cough* Kevin Spacey *cough*) doesn’t mean that I have to support him and make him feel untouchable.

The same thing happened with Casey, where before his win at the Oscars it was revealed that he had a couple lawsuits from previous coworkers that alleged sexual misconduct and failing to credit their work on a previous film. At first he denied and later expressed that the set of I’m Still Here was an unprofessional one. But when he publicly admitted to his behavior, the Oscars didn’t even flinch and let him have his golden statue.

Was his performance really worthy of the win? In my humble opinion, no. He was good, but he wasn’t as good as Denzel Washington in Fences. Denzel is the actor that has lost nominations and wins only because of the color of his skin. Because every performance he gives, in any kind of movie is remarkable and worthy of conversation and admiration. The Oscars has shown us time and time again that, if you are anything else but a white man, you will face scrutiny and difficulty to achieve your goals, and stand on that stage to accept the award.

Honorable Mentions

Before I close this article with my conclusion I want to share some of the actors that didn’t really deserve to be accepting the Oscar, but it isn’t that serious as the examples above.

• Reese Witherspoon for Walk the Line, although it was a nice movie and Reese’s performance was fine, it wasn’t worth the Oscar. Who deserved it? Charlize Theron for North Country. Her performance was riveting and although she won for Monster the previous year, it would be amazing if she had won for this movie too.

• Rami Malek for Bohemian Rhapsody. He won only because it was a biography that, to be fair, wasn’t even good to begin with. Who deserved it? Bradley Cooper for A Star is Born. He saved that movie, because to be honest Lady Gaga was not the best at her role. But I think if Bradley would have won that year, he wouldn’t have to go to the lengths he went for Maestro this year.

• Joaquin Phoenix for Joker. Now is Phoenix a good actor? He kind of is. But I wasn’t impressed by his performance as the Joker. I know, don’t shoot me. Who deserved it? Adam Driver for Marriage Story. Hands down the best film, and the best performance. The raw emotions of Driver as a father that tries to be a part of his son’s life, made me realize my daddy issues, and for that I thank him.

CASEY AFFLECK IN MANCHESTER BY THE SEA (2016).

Conclusion

If you read the whole article, you will understand that my problem is not the actresses and the actors–except Casey–but my problem is with the system that has been built on lobbying, discrimination and bribery. Examples of lobbying, discrimination and bribery? a) Miramax going above and beyond to make voters believe in Shakespeare in Love. b) Andrea Riseborough’s best actress nomination for a film that barely was watched. Later, after an investigation we learned that the director of the film To Leslie had connections to famous actresses and actors, like Charlize Theron, Edward Norton, and Kate Winslet. These actors/actresses held private screenings for the movie, and hosted Q&A’s. But then, the team of To Leslie, encouraged their famous friends to post on all their social media about the movie. With all that, she got a single best actress nomination in any award ceremony that year. And that was unfair, because that year, there were more worthy performances than her. Viola Davis for Woman King, Danielle Deadwyler for Till. And some of you that know the history of Oscars, might think: “Wait didn’t Julia Roberts lobby so that her great friend Denzel Washighton could win a Best Actor Oscar for his performance in Training Day?” Yes, she did. Because unfortunately if you are POC and don’t have white powerful friends that will go out of their way to support you, you will not get the award or you’ll not even get a nomination.

Lobbying, discrimination, and bribery go hand to hand with the Oscars. But also there is a huge problem with voters and the voting system. Every year, ~300 films qualify to be voted for a nomination, and ~9.000 voters vote for films. Have you ever watched 300 films in a year? I haven’t and so haven’t the voters. Also, the voters are majority white old men. So if you create a film that has to do with discrimination and racism with only People of Color, you have no chance. Spike Lee knows that very well.

I don’t have a solution, because honestly the root of the problem is so old and the voters don’t get any younger, that it would be a waste of time to change it. What we can do, as the audience, is to show support to films that are indie, or that

What we can do, as the audience, is to show support to films that are indie, or that cannot afford “for your consideration” campaigns, and share them with as many people as possible.

cannot afford “for your consideration” campaigns, and share them with as many people as possible. Because at the end of the day, awards don’t matter for us the audience. What matters is true creation of films, films that talk about our reality, no matter the genre. Or films that create worlds where we can all dream about, and have fun exploring. That is what matters, nothing else. •

LOOKING MOVIE POSTERS RIGHT IN THE EYE

BY THEODOTI SIVRIDI

Movie posters are one of the best gifts for your film-loving friends that I could think of. It is a form of thoughtful love. Back in the day, my student room was filled with posters my friends gave to me or from screenings I attended. Last year, I was given a special screening poster from Everyman Screen on the Green movie theater in London, showcasing the 2022 35mm screenings of Paul Thomas Anderson’s filmography, and this year I went on and secured the big poster of Poor Things. I don’t quite think the movie theater owners had the nerve to say no to me, since I went and said hi to them every single day, reminding them to save a poster for me. Now that I am moving to a new house, I first picked the posters and then the mattress. Priorities of a film lover. And since you will definitely ask, then probably it is going to be the Poor Things one that gets the big wall. I am not being biased, just based.

Moving- out- day, I took down the rather poorly - made movie poster of The Godfather I got for 5 euros in Groningen from an open air market the very first day I moved into my tiny student room to study Film. I eventually gifted it to my dear movie buddy Matus, who took this picture, and that was the best company I could ask for for our everyday movie dates.

You can’t see it but best believe I was crying my heart out.

Movie posters are more than promotional material. They are artistic reflections of a film’s essence. I would argue that movie posters reflect more the very essence of its film than any promotional trailer (no matter the quality of the edit - good or bad). Movie posters historically were the first promotions of a film, they serve as invitations, engaging audiences with the cinematic world and the stories within it, and definitely collectible, which makes them artefacts of cinematic history.

As I just argued, throughout its history, movie poster art has played a crucial role in promoting audience engagement in movie marketing and becoming an integral part of popular culture. From the early 1900s and the Lumiere brothers posters with simple storyline illustrations, to the golden Hollywood era ones characterized by bold typography and featured Hollywood stars, and from the glossy 90s to today’s diverse designs, movie posters continue to evolve, design trends are emerging, while some are also paying homage to the rich legacy of poster artistry that has come before. One of the most iconic movie posters that comes to mind is City Lights 1931 starring Charlie Chaplin. OG movie poster coolness right there.

And then there are some prime examples of Oscar-winning films posters that have become classics. From West Side Story to The Godfather and from Pulp Fiction to Moonlight, you can find these posters not just in film lovers’ student rooms, but also in the cute corner coffee shop of your neighborhood, while those, are most likely a fan art or a minimalist version of the poster you can buy on Etsy. I can’t even imagine how it would feel to walk by your local movie theater and see the Titanic poster to begin with. That would have been one for the books for sure.

Furthermore, I think that the rise of fan art posters has added a new dimension to this art form. With fans creating their own interpretations and tributes to beloved films, there’s a plethora of fan art posters available. It only takes one search in Letterboxd to find ranked posters lists, whether it be color-coded, theme-coded, or alternative posters rankings. While researching, I came across an interesting poll on IMDb, where the IMDb community was voting on the most artistic poster among the 2024 Oscar nominees. It’s fascinating to see this interactive engagement and how people perceive the artistic qualities of movie posters.

Having said that, and in honor of this year’s Oscars, I decided to comment on the Best Picture category nominated movie posters. Ranking is purely subjective, and on whether the posters are “giving” or not.

1. AMERICAN FICTION

Deconstructing the publishing world at its finest and a critique of the tendency to exploit trending topics while also sacrificing quality and authenticity - and in particular in the portrayal of Black trauma- a narrative that is often sensationalized by the media, and despite the demand for black stories, there’s a reluctance to fully embrace the flourishing of Black individuals. The poster resembles a modern book cover, cleverly nodding to the movie’s storyline. Its well-thought-out design makes me want to open it like a hard copy and run my fingers over the pages, while at the same time all the characters await.

2. ANATOMY OF A FALL

There is something very specific about snow and blood and dead bodies. I guess it is the white backdrop, the very nature of snow itself and the question (spoiler alert) heard during the film: “How long does blood stay in the snow?” It also reminded me of Fargo 1996, and like in Fargo, the scene depicted is towards the start of the film and actually kick-starts the investigation of the case. I see this poster and P.I.M.P. the cover by Bacao Rhythm & Steel Band plays in my mind. I see this poster and I get PTSD from the brilliant Sandra Hüller screaming in my face. I see this poster and I don’t just want, but I most definitely need to get a Susan Sontag interpretation of it. Mesmerizing.

3. BARBIE

Pink, glossy and vibrant. Just how I like my Barbies.

We are getting academic, brace yourselves. I recently came across an interesting semiotic analysis of the Barbie movie poster from Semarang University. In this qualitative examination, the authors delved into the practice of cinematic marketing and the cultural messages conveyed through the Barbie poster art. While the authors primarily discussed a different Barbie poster variant, it is evident that the complexities of semiotic strategies and underlying meanings they explored, apply to the one I’m considering as well. After all, both posters are part of a series of promotional materials that share the same direction both aesthetic- wise and content- wise. More precisely, and what I find worth mentioning here, is the traditional gender role subversion in the stereotypical “Barbie world” when reading the “She’s everything. He’s just Ken.” text. Barbie’s “everything” is implying that she has multiple qualities and abilities (and that she is literally everything), and Ken’s “just Ken” is implying in a humorous and simplistic manner that he is nothing more than a toy, with no attributes whatsoever. I also think that their way of posing and gestures are interesting here. Barbie, like all Barbies do, always has to pose cheerfully, with her legs crossed. And then there is just Ken, the laid back (but not- so -laid- back) guy who is manspreading, flexing his abs, almost mansplaining to us why we breathe air. All in all, the Barbie posters efficiently communicate their visual and verbal clues and are delivering the narrative of the film. Hot - pink, gender studies worth analysing, and giving it.

4. KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON

So old school I’m bored. But not the good old school, the boring one. We definitely know what to expect from Marty cinematically wise (masterpieces) but this poster ain’t giving it. What do you call someone who hasn’t watched a film but comments on it? A film lover lol. Or a prick. Maybe I am both, but as much as I love Marty, I haven’t had the chance to watch this, (yet). Maybe I shouldn’t even be commenting on it, but is there anything very specific I’m missing other than a classic poster that stars 2000s Leonardo DiCaprio film? Let me know.

5. MAESTRO

Iliked how classy and classic-looking this is to be honest. I think I have seen a black and white alternative, which I definitely like best because of the black and white sequences in the film, but, overall this is a fine-looking and elegant poster, just like the visuals and aesthetics of this film. Warm lighting and at the same time a spotlight-like feeling for the couple, a nod to their relationship’s exposure to the public eye?

6. OPPENHEIMER

Everything related to Oppenheimer after it won Best Picture, I am trying to avoid (I was a bit disappointed - but not surprised, not gonna lie), and when people ask me to comment on it, I immediately get into the “I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that”, pure Kubrick zone. However, since I am committed to the writer’s integrity and from all the languages I could speak, I’m gonna speak the truth, I’m gonna admit that yes, the poster is striking. It is the bomb, no, literally it is. The poster perfectly reflects the overall essence of the film, the flaming reds, the focus on the man himself, the moment of realization of Cillian Murphy’s character has created one of the deadliest weapons in human history. A ten out of ten poster indeed.

7. PAST LIVES

Two childhood crushes meet again after decades and the tension between them is alive and breathing. The distance, the people we used to be and the people we have become, the choices we make along the road, and the invisible string theory. This poster feels like a soft ice cream on a hot summer day, it feels like listening to a song you used to love but haven’t listened to in a very long time, it feels exactly like seeing your childhood crush when visiting back home, and no one of you is the same person anymore. And you meet again. The tube handle is a barrier between them, but they are both holding it while tenderly staring at each other.

8. POOR THINGS

Big blue eyes, and blue skies forever, and Bella’s inner world. She is the main character, she is the moment, she is both the creature and the creator all at the same time. It is a Bella Baxter world and we are living in it. Excuse us Bella for breathing your air. I recently watched an interesting video essay showcasing the various references of Poor Things to Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927), and I do think the poster has to a certain level an homage as well? The blank dramatic stare to the viewer, the top notch retro-futurism. I am keeping it brief, perfection is pretty self - explanatory.

9. THE HOLDOVERS

Ilike how this poster translates visually that Christmas is “ruined” or never even was fun in the first place to begin with for our beloved characters. A broken christmas ornament, for broken hearted people. I always enjoy the “christmas blues” talk, the sudden contextual pressure to be festive when December comes and Christmas is around the corner. As heard in a Fred Again.. song while sampling Sabrina Benaim’s poem Explaining my depression to my mother: “It is not so much fun having fun when you don’t wanna have fun”. Or when you can’t, I would say. And this is what happens to our characters. It is not so much fun for them to have fun when they cannot have fun. During festivities lots of things break, sometimes it is ornaments other times people. Christmassy with red lettering, a broken ornament and our leads emerging like Venuses out of it, a perfect depiction of what the film is about. Added to my favourite Christmas family movies, right after Eyes Wide Shut

10. THE ZONE OF INTEREST

So, to my cherished audience and supporters of my words (no one just my best friend, my MA supervisor and my mom), it may come as a surprise that despite my undeniable bias towards Yorgos Lanthimos, that Poor Things would be my top poster choice of this year, but, I cannot possibly get over The Zone of Interest poster and the chills I get when looking at it. The black backdrop - the blackest sky I’ve ever seen- the family chilling in their backyard with their beach props to art direct their “idyllic” porch, the wired wall that separates their garden from the camp. Blink twice and you will miss the two figures with missing heads. This poster reflects 100% what happens beyond the frame and the transcendence of the filmic space, while also highlighting the impeccable sound design and that well deserved Oscar. The zero awareness of this family, the evilness of human beings, the Holocaust, and the sound of death are hunting, and “hunting” is an understatement to describe the aforementioned. The art direction also reminded me of the Parasite poster and its symbolisms. I need a podcast episode to properly rant to the maximum about all these, so I will just conclude my commentary by saying that this is a very well designed poster that could never - ever- get a wall in my house.

CONCLUSION

To conclude this love letter to movie posters and commentary on this year’s Best Picture nominees and their very posters, we asked our contributors “What is your favourite movie poster from the Best Picture category of all time”? Mine would definitely be the American Beauty one that won the 1999 Best Picture. The naked body, the rose, the themes of desire and sexuality present to a hundred, and that freaking “look closer” invitation are sending me. And I wonder: Look closer to what? What lies beneath the surface of beauty? To the fallen American Dream? Closer within ourselves? I am a sucker for everything suburbia related, and this is definitely giving it.

PLATOON

C.C. LILFORD

The poster for Platoon (1986) is the perfect encapsulation of everything great about the film, everything that makes the film iconic distilled into one image.

Before you notice the flaming jungle in the background and before you notice the word ‘Platoon’ (with dog tags for ‘o’s) at the bottom your eyes are drawn to the man in the center of the poster. A man on his knees, his head so far back you can’t see his face and his arms raised to heaven. His uniform identifies him as an American soldier and his chest is riddled with bloody bullet holes. To call this image ‘dramatic’ is an understatement, this image is melodramatic, and in that melodrama lies the beating heart of Platoon. The ur-text for military themed melodrama, an oft unrecognized hybrid genre of heightened drama set within the world of soldiers and war.

Few posters capture an emotional vibe with quite the immediacy and urgency as the poster for Platoon

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

CAMERON LINLY ROBINSON

Terrifying, suggestive, and totally relevant to the source material. The poster for Jonathon Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs is one of my absolute favorite movie posters of all time. The face of a woman, inhumanly pale with dark red eyes, stares at you. A moth, Hannibal Lector’s calling card, covers her mouth. When you look closer, you can see that the moth has a skull on its head. Look even closer, and you’ll notice that the skull is made of human flesh. It is an eerily beautiful image layered with alarming imagery. She is both victim and threat; dead and alive; speaking and silent. It gives me chills.

FRENCH POSTER FOR TOM JONES (1963).

A Look Back at Tom Jones A Best Picture Retrospective

BY ROBERT KARMI

By 1963, New Wave Cinema movements, brought about via the democratization of film production technology and increasing frustration with the industrial studio hegemony, had taken over cinemas the world over. France became the most visible of the new wave movements thanks to the esteemed filmographies of the west and east bank filmmakers, from Truffaut to Varda. But it was far from the only wave worth consideration; Czech and Japanese cinemas likewise became more aesthetically daring and politically subversive towards their dominant cultures, from Ōshima to Chytilová. The Academy Awards, however, were slow to recognize the significance of these works, more so recognizing American films taking cues from these movements in the seventies than in rewarding the foreign films. Yet, due to the immediate aesthetic and thematic significance of the movement, it was inevitable that a work either from or influenced by New Wave Cinema would emerge that the Academy Awards would reward as a significant, undeniable work.

Parallel to those international movements emerged the British New Wave, which shared aesthetic and thematic similarities to them. With French New Wave most specifically, it shared cinema verité cinematographic strategies, black and white film stock, naturalistic acting, and an emphasis on drama over genre. The movement was in part a lateral evolution of a British theatric movement spearheaded by a group called the angry young men. These artists emphasized kitchen sink realism and mid-century masculine ennui cloistered within working class conditions. The movement has a reputation as leftist for these preoccupations, which complemented the overall presentation of these works. Prominent figures within the movement included John Osborne and Tony Richardson who collaborated for the seminal adaptation of Look Back in Anger (1959), itself the play frequently cited as initiating the movement. They collaborated several times throughout

their careers, none so handsomely celebrated as their third cinematic joint effort, the Oscar winning historical comedy Tom Jones adapting the Henry Fielding novel of the same (albeit abbreviated) name. That film, while seemingly conventional via it’s placement within costume dramas, was one of the most wildly off brand works the Academy ever rewarded, thematically and stylistically at odds with the idea of a Best Picture winner, fitting for the only New Wave film to do so.

Albert Finney, in his second cinematic collaboration with Richardson after The Entertainer (1960, also written by Osborne), plays the titular protagonist, a well to do gentlemen who, discovered as a baby presumedly abandoned by his servant birth parents, came of age under the care of his adoptive surrogate father Allworthy (George Devine). Stigmatized for his illegitimate conception within the eyes of the other nobility, who likewise resent him for his charming character and irreverent manner, Tom Jones comes of age as a roguish charmer popular with women and prone to disobedience against polite custom and manner. As such he cannot marry the love of his life Sophie (Susannah Yorke) and engages in several erotic and other escapades to alleviate the pain. Due to a conspiracy concocted by Allworthy’s nephew Blifil (David Warner) and his two tutors, Jones must travel the British countryside to find his own way to fortune and status. What follows is an episodic and frequently satirical series of adventures in which Jones finds himself a cocksure and charismatic player as he attempts to make himself legitimate within the eyes of the aristocracy.

Andrew Sarris, writing for the “Village Voice”, opined that he felt that the film played more like a parody of the original novel than as an adaptation. That notion helps characterize why the film may have enjoyed a celebratory reputation upon its release, when it was an award season juggernaut. When you compare it to other costume dramas of the era, especially the likewise nominated Joseph Mankowitz helmed Cleopatra, one cannot help but notice

how much more grounded and tactile it feels, as well as considerably less severe. It allows for a grime and grit to exist within its world; characters appearing dirty and occupying spaces that are less than pristine, all the while goading the audience into considering the lusty and puerile nature of the characters, regardless of social standing. When compared to more conservative costume dramas that recreated the past with suffocating gravitas, Tom Jones becomes that much more alive and radical by comparison. Richardson and Osborne create a world that feels at once like an exaggerated portrait of life within Georgian England, but nevertheless a lively and vibrant one, wherein people come and go about their lives without preoccupation for presenting themselves as handsomely and glamorously as possible, adding a sense of immersion to the film. By this, the film becomes, in the New Wave Tradition, a reactive step against the stifling hegemonic presentation of the past in studio cinema, which likely compounded Sarris’ issues with the film.

Further it becomes as self-reflexive cinematic object as one can imagine from this era, not only utilizing the most innovative cinematic techniques of the modern era but also evoking the formalism and evolution of style of cinema throughout its young history. The opening sequence, stylized like that of an early silent film, conveys its story wordlessly with a sporadic hand cranked quality to the framerate, sometimes speeding up for comic effect (a reoccurring technique used in the film to co-

medic effect). As the film evolves it takes on increasingly contemporaneous sensibilities, eventually getting to a point where characters break the fourth wall and directly reference the audience in the affairs of what is happening within the film. By this we see that the film is a joyous cinematic work that not only seeks to differentiate itself from other period pieces of the era, but also as a uniquely cinematic creation unto itself.

The sense of humor of the film revels in the absurdity of class and privilege while highlighting the outrageous adventures of a well-meaning scoundrel. It is at once extreme and maniac yet fine-tuned and thoroughly mannered, a work seemingly aware of the perception of British period pieces as stuffy affairs, and often showcasing it’s narrative in as raucous a manner as possible. It becomes frequently countercultural to this end, with Richardson and Osborne lampooning the aristocrats and their machinations with great detail. The lords are frequently boars who pursue and treat women little better than the animals they rear or hunt, and there is a clearly gendered double standard at play. There are also frequent depictions of the internalized misogyny within these women, considering that they turn amongst themselves when one fails to live by the “Christian” manner. It is sly observations like this, that when combined with the Brechtian asides to the audience, create such a uniquely New Wave sort of comedy. It is easy to find Tom Jones’ biting

humor and sensibilities finding ancestry with the Marx Bros. Duck Soup (Leo McCray, 1933), or it’s descendants in A Hard Day’s Night (Richard Lester, 1964) and in Monty Python, to one degree or another, solidifying its place within the canon as a significant work.

Yet the film has become unpopular among certain filmgoers, so much so it has garnered a reputation as one of the weaker Best Picture winners within the history of the Academy Awards. To be sure, it is off brand for the Academy in tone and in style, especially in comparison to more traditional period pieces that it loves to award. It does not bare the solemnity and severity of importance as many films best remembered for the Best Picture category tend to be, nor does it signify it’s importance via self-serious aesthetics, but that alone cannot be the reason for its lambasting. Some have lamented it’s treatment of women, but that feels more so mistaking a film about misogyny for a film endorsing misogyny, but there is nuance to that as well.

Perhaps its style which was lively and daring for the era has become much more stagnant and emblematic of the hegemonic status quo that it at once came to challenge. It is no great secret that the appropriation and recuperation of radical aesthetics within dominant hegemonies has long been true especially of the most challenging and radical pieces of art, so much so that even the more challenging aesthetic ideas of new wave cinema have found themselves little more than signifiers of realism within industrial Hollywood productions. This has not been aided by the fact that Tony Richardson himself seems to have lost favor with the project himself throughout the years, leading him to reedit the film later in life. He counted it as the film he is the most disappointed in within his memoir published late before his death. Tom Jones, made in the earliest part of his career, became one of his more troubled productions because of technical issues and money problems, costing more than expected and becoming one of the more expensive

independent productions of its era (still dwarfed by its Hollywood contemporaries, mind you). That, plus a possible regret towards the free love era in a post AIDS landscape, the disease which would take his life, makes it easy to imagine the man becoming resentful towards what has undeniably become his most well-known and appraised work. His career after the film was troubled, course correcting going nowhere, so much so he eventually re-edited Tom Jones before making his last film Blue Sky (1994), which wouldn’t see a release in his lifetime due to Orion picture’s bankruptcy. One cannot help but draw a parallel between his disdain for Tom Jones to that of Orson Welles and his relationship with Citizen Kane, itself a daring work representing the newest cutting edge filmmaking that was co-opted by everything that came afterwards, yet failed to secure a stable future for its legendary filmmaker. Regardless, Tom Jones exists as one of the very few films that distinctly represents the exhilaration and the excitement of new wave cinema at the Academy Awards during this particular period in cinematic history. The film remains an exciting work that is just as strange and stylistically daring today as it was in the early sixties. It’s legacy lingers to this day, in the stranger costume dramas that likewise refuse to leave the past sterile such as The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2018). If there had to be a singular work to represent new wave cinema at the Academy Awards from this period, there are far worse titles to pick then Tom Jones

Snub Corner

Theodoti says...

FALLEN LEAVES

It’s always an interesting debate. You can really tell a lot about someone’s film taste through their take on snubs: sometimes, it’s more revealing than their thoughts on winners. Film lovers need the snubs like Bella Baxter needed that second pastel de nata: it just gets the excitement going. This year, Fallen Leaves by Aki Kaurismäki definitely got snubbed. I thought that it would secure a nomination in the Best International Feature category, but it didn’t happen. Maybe the Academy wasn’t feeling it for a depressive Scandinavian film this time around, or maybe it’s allergic to cardamom buns, or then again, maybe, a deadpan-poker-faced Finnish girl band was too much for them. I guess I am reading it too much, but regardless, Fallen Leaves is a must-see.

Cameron says...

ARE YOU THERE GOD? IT’S ME, MARGRARET

This year was so full of wonderful films that left me in absolute awe at the artform and the artists. But, there will always be films, actors, designers, directors who go unnoticed. At this year’s Academy Awards ceremony, I firmly believe that Kelly Fremon Craig’s adaptation of the classic Judy Blume novel, “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret”, deserved to be represented amongst this year’s nominees. This film is so beautiful and heartfelt. And while I would have been over the moon if it had received a Best Picture nomination, I think that Rachel McAdams is really the one who got snubbed here. Her performance is so grounded and real, and she has proved time and time again that she belongs up there with the greats. If you haven’t seen this film yet, please… do it for Rachel. You won’t be disappointed.

Light, Movement, & Power

Breaking Down Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog

BY CAMERON LINLY ROBINSON

Only eight women have ever been nominated in the Academy Awards category of Best Director. Over the course of almost a century of celebrating films and filmmakers, this is an alarmingly low number. Additionally, there have only ever been three women to be nominated for Best Cinematography. The more technical fields of filmmaking (cinematography, set lighting, grip, camera, etc.) have remained male-dominated since the beginnings of the craft. However, in 2021 history was made when The Power of the Dog granted woman-written, directed and shot nominations in each of these respective categories. Jane Campion received nominations in both Best Director and Best Writing (finally winning for her direction!), and Ari Wegner was nominated for Best Cinematography. These two creatives proved to be a magical combination, and I would argue that Wegner’s work behind the camera warranted a win (and the movie as a whole was certainly the best of the year… but that’s neither here nor there). In celebration of these incredible artists, I will break down one of the most pivotal scenes of the film and discuss just how powerful their collaboration truly is! Without further ado…

This scene truly begins with the final line of the previous shot.

Phil’s: “You’ll watch me do it?”

This pushes in a distinct shift in the soundscape. From the exciting and frantic strings comes a harmonious series of horns that threaten what is to come.

The camera rolls across the mountains of Montana–the landscape that we’ve come to know very well (Fig 1-3). The light is dimming and the peaks create sections of extreme darkness throughout the rolling hills. It is erotic, mysterious, and dangerous.

Before we’ve even reached our characters, the camera, lights, and sound build anticipation for what’s to come. We are in those final precious moments before our climax.

Cut to Phil’s hands fingering tobacco as he rolls a cigarette (Fig 4). There is a tender sexuality in the way he pulls the pieces apart. This last only a few brief moments before we move outside to the exterior of the barn

FIG.

FIG.

FIG.

FIG.

Inside, Phil lights his cigarette and takes a draw from it as Peter approaches in the foreground (Fig 6). In this moment he is backlit– only a dark mysterious figure. Conversely, Phil is seen in the warm light of a nearby candle. As Peter nears Phil, his back is warmed up as well in its light. Phil steps aside and gestures for Peter to place the bucket on the ground, which he does. Phil hands Peter the bottle he drinks from and kneels down to the bucket.

The camera cuts to Peter as he turns to face Phil, still kneeling. We see him from below–from Peter’s perspective. For the first time, we see Peter’s face as he watches Phil–his eyes moving from Phil’s hands back to his face. He maintains this moment of power over his mentor, and the camera captures him as the dominant force here (Fig 7).

Phil’s hands in the water. We see his fresh wound, as it spills out blood into the water. His hands detangle the leather as blood and water mix (Fig 8).

Cut to the now detangled pieces of leather

It is much darker now. A Fog rolls in over the mountains in the distance. The camera is still, as Peter approaches the barn carrying a large bucket (Fig 5). He enters under a Skull warning above doorway.

hanging down (Fig 9). They jerked around frantically, as the camera slowly crawls up to reveal Phil’s hands braiding the rope

Phil’s hands work with speed and force–accentuated by the closeness of the camera (Fig 10). We only sit here for a few brief moments before cutting to Peter.

Peter watches as the braid cuts across the screen. They are silent.

Peter concentrates on the braid before him (Fig 11). His eyes go slightly wide, then he turns his focus up the rope.

The camera follows. The braid, now in focus, jerks around erratically as the camera moves along across until reaching the source of this movement (Fig 12).

We stay on Phil’s hand for a few moments as they continue braiding. The harsh movements are a stark juxtaposition to the stillness we just left in Peter.

Slowly, the camera sways back down the rope. Focus shifts to Peter, once again. His eyes shift from the rope, up to Phil’s face (Fig 13). He stands.

We flip and see Phil in focus in the foreground as Peter walks over to the saddle in the background. Phil turns his head slightly and watches Peter approach the saddle (Fig 14).

Focus shifts, as does the power, and we watch Peter reach out and touch the saddle, rubbing it slightly (Fig 15). Peter watches as Phil rubs his prized possession–the only reminder of his old friend, Bronco Henry.

Close up on the saddle, Peter rubs it and plays with each piece seductively (Fig 16). The sexuality of the shape and leather are accentuated here, as Peter challenges the relationship and power divide between the two men by boldly touching this treasure.

“How old were you when you met Bronco Henry?” Peter asks, still toying with the saddle. Phil throws Peter the bag of tobacco, and Peter inquires further, “Was he your best friend?”

Focus shifts to Phil, who turns away from Peter.

“Yeah, he was.” As Phil speaks, there is a quick cut to his hands and groin. He pulls the rope and thrusts forward (Fig 17). The scene is laced with

sexual innuendo that flourishes moving forward. “He was more than that.”

Peter slowly approaches behind Phil. His figure now carries the weight of dominance and danger as he passes through the frame and lands across from Phil.

Peter watches as Phil works and retells the story of Bronco Henry saving his life.

As Phil reminisces, the camera cuts between his face and his hands, rubbing up and down the rope suggestively–clearly the relationship he is remembering was sexual. Though this remains unsaid.

“Bronco kept me alive by… lying body against body in a bedroll. Fell off to sleep that way.

We land back on Peter as he rolls the tobacco in a wrap. Clearly, the relationship forming with Peter reminds Phil of Bronco Henry.

“Naked?” Peter asks.

Phil chuckles at the question. Then–in this scene’s most suggestive moment–we see a close up of Phil’s hand working the rope. He inserts the new rope–Peter’s rope–into the existing braid. He pushes it in slowly, with great care (Fig 18) . It is extremely erotic.

At the height of sexual tension between these two characters, Peter licks the wrap and closes the cigarette (Fig 19).

He leans forward and presents it to Phil, pushing into his face and placing it gently in his mouth (Fig 20).

The camera flips to a Close Up of Phils face. He is backlit, making his emotions difficult to decipher. Slowly, he wraps his lips around the butt and pulls (Fig 21).

We flip again to see Peter. From the corner of the screen, Phil exhales. Peter brings the cigarette to his mouth and smokes it slowly before once again reaching out and offering–no demanding–that Phil take another draw.

We stay on Peter’s face this time (Fig 22). He watches as Phil inhales, and a small smile creeps up on his face. He has gained the power here. And he is very happy about it (Fig 23).

The soundscape continues as we push into the next day. Two horses–strong and beautiful–mimic these two characters (Fig 24).

FIG. 19

FIG. 20

FIG. 21

FIG. 22

FIG. 23

Snub Corner

Robert says...

FERRARI, MAY DECEMBER

Ithink one that continues to shock me was the literal nothing that Ferrari was nominated for. I felt like it should’ve been nominated in every category (especially the technical awards), especially when Maestro had no business being there in my opinion. Beyond that, I will forever lament Todd Haynes being snubbed for Best Director for May-December, even if I cannot name who I would sacrifice to get that nomination in place.

Kemari says...

PASSAGES, THE KILLER

Iquestion if calling Passages’ lack of Oscar nominations a snub is even appropriate — it was one of personal favorites of 2023, but its indie stature did nothing to put it in the awards conversation. However, all three of Passages lead actors were certainly worthy of a nomination. Franz Rogowski in particular as a messy, toxic male in the middle of a bisexual love triangle portrays one of the most complex love-to-hate characters I’ve seen on screen in years, and though he was able to snag a Best Actor win at the New York Film Critics Circle, an Oscar nomination was not written in the stars for him against such a stacked year. On the other hand, David Fincher’s The Killer never made a huge splash, but I feel like it should have been more seriously considered for a Sound nomination — an impeccable portrayal of a perfectionist assasin’s inner world through audio.

AWARDS SIPPERS BY CAMERON

With each series we cover on the Film Club 3000 podcast our Managing Editor Cameron Linly Robinson curates drinks to pair with each film. For this series Cameron has decided to create cocktails to pair with each Academy Awards ceremony we discussed, choosing to honor each year’s Best Picture winner. Join us on the Film Club 3000 Podcast to hear in-depth discussion on each of these films. Here is a selection of Cameron’s crafted drinks:

“FC3K Spritzer”

TheClubbies

.75 oz Blueberry Basil Simple Syrup Champagne

To make the simple syrup, combine equal parts of water and sugar with one container of fresh blueberries and fresh basil (leaves and stems) in a pot. Bring to a boil and cook until all the sugar is dissolved. Let the mixture cool, then mash the blueberries. Strain the mixture well with a fine-mesh strainer. Mix this with your champagne and enjoy!

“Oppenheimer’s Martini” Oppenheimer

3 oz Gin

Splash Dry Vermouth

Honey Lemon Juice

Rim a chilled Martini glass with lemon juice and honey. Swish a splash of Dry Vermouth in the glass, then dump. Chill your gin, then pour it into the glass. Now, you’re drinking like Oppenheimer himself!

“Corpse Reviver No. 12”

12 Years a Slave

1 oz Blackberry Bourbon

1 oz Cognac

½ oz Sweet Vermouth

To make the Blackberry Bourbon, combine fresh blackberries and ¼ cup of sugar with about a cup of Bourbon. Blend well (Emulsion blending recommended). Allow this to sit for about a week. To make the cocktail: Stir with ice and strain. Garnish with Blackberries.

“Hobbit’s Smash”

The Lord of The Rings: The Return of the King

2 oz rum

½ oz Simple Syrup

A few sprigs of mint, basil, and lemongrass 1 Lime, chopped roughly

Muddle the mint, basil, lemongrass, and lime together. Pour in the rest of the ingredients and stir. Top with soda. Enjoy, my PRECIOUS!

“Schindler’s Sangria” Schindler’s List

Manischewitz Kosher Red Wine

1 Apple

1 Plums

1 oz Lemon Juice

Sparkling Wine

Chop up your fruit and throw them into a glass. Pour in the lemon juice and the Manischewitz until the fruit is covered. Give this a stir, then top with your sparkling wine. Mazel Tov!

2021 The Prisoner Chardonnay

Terms of Endearment

Pour the chilled wine into your favorite wine glass and grab your box of tissues!

“The

Salty Grifter”

The Sting

2 oz Gin

1 Jalapeno, roughly chopped

.75 oz Simple Syrup

Grapefruit Juice

Tajin to rim

Rim your glass with Tajin. Combine chopped jalapeno, Gin, and Simple Syrup into a shaker with ice and shake that thing! Dump into your glass and top with Grapefruit juice. Now, get to grifting!

ARTISTS

TREY VANTERPOOL @DEFINITELY_TREY

CONTRIBUTORS

HARISSA BAKLLAVA is based in Athens, Greece. She is a creative and not something specific, because she cannot decide what she likes to do professionally. On one hand, she started with writing articles, but then she found out about photography and cinema at different times in her life, and every time her whole world changed. So she does it all, and is therefore very overwhelmed.

ROBERT KARMI graduated from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington’s film program with bachelor’s and master’s degrees emphasizing critical studies. One professor opined Karmi was omnivorous in his study of cinema, leading to the title of his review blog Omnivorous Cinephilia. When not working on entering a doctorate program, Karmi writes about whatever film subject interests him through multidisciplinary theoretical lenses. He is also on Letterboxd.

C.C. LILFORD is a happily married writer, critic, arts journalist, and amateur art historian. They love all of the arts (don’t get them started on opera or Prince’s discography) and try not to pick favorites, but their masters degree is in film studies. When not writing C.C. can be found adding to or maintaining any one of their extensive libraries.

CAMERON LINLY ROBINSON (she/her) Managing Editor of Film Club 3000, she received a BFA in Acting from the University of North Carolina Greensboro. She is not only a film lover, but a writer, director, producer, and filmmaker. Cameron is excited to create this platform for longer essays of film discussions and critiques! Follow her on letterboxd @cam_jam.

THEODOTI SIVRIDI (she/her) is an assistant director and has graduated from University Groningen with an MA in Film & Contemporary Audiovisual Media and a BA in Art History from Athens School of Fine Arts. Her research interests revolve around geographies of cinema and the Greek road movie genre. When she is not writing about film or posting movie screens & film reviews at @theoathemovies on instagram, you can find her dancing salsa at her local bar.

“NOTHING CAN TAKE THE STING OFF THE WORLD’S ECONOMIC

PROBLEMS LIKE WATCHING MILLION-

AIRES

PRESENT EACH OTHER GOLDEN STATUES.”

– BILLY CRYSTAL