Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) (2014)

Best Picture Winner

Filmmaking is farcical, and movies are some of the best lies we tell. They stake a claim on reality while being anything but true. The standard Hollywood approach would be to carefully craft a film to suspend an audience's disbelief, but not Birdman. Here Inarritu has exposed the potential of film and by doing so expertly blurred the lines between what is real and what is surreal. 

Birdman tells the story of Riggan (Keaton), a fading superhero actor who is seeking some form of redemptive catharsis through an attempt at the stage. So we are given a man at a fatal breaking point surrounded by all the wonderful dysfunction that the craft of theater presents. He has the classic fettering producer (Galifianakis), his egocentric Broadway star (Norton), and a drug addled emotionally suppressed daughter (Stone) all of whom come in and out of Riggins world supplying much of the chaos he is trying to negotiate. All of this is presented through one false continuous shot allowing for seamless transitions from what could be real to what most certainly isn't.

From the opening shot where Riggan is floating in meditation to his ultimate ascent to the unknown beyond, the film implies that a total submission to one's artistic work may in fact be insane but also provides a shot at nirvana. A degree of spirituality is necessary in art and when you succumb to that lifestyle you may, dare I say, make something of yourself, and I do believe Inarritu has found that transcendence. Birdman is written with a real understanding of the world and percussively marches forward with no apology. This is portrayed by a number of great performances with Michael Keaton leading the charge in a brilliantly manic fashion. 

Overall: This is my favorite film of 2014. Inarritu is unabashedly indulgent and this is his greatest ode to filmmaking to date. All of it is real, and none of it is: a perfect beautiful lie. 

The Theory of Everything (2014)

Nominee

An all comprehensive theory of existence would be beautiful, for it seems to suggest a great equalizing force. If everyone and everything was put into motion at the same moment, made of the same basic matter, than there is an unseen bond that forces us to be unified in some small way. This does not mean that we are all the same, but rather every individual story should interest us because it's part of one big narrative that we all exist within. In this instance we are given the story of Stephen Hawking, a man that once dared to believe that all this could be true, and his wife Jane, the woman who cared for him with heroic determination while having to watch as one of the world's greatest minds became locked in a deteriorating vessel.

This relationship is the primary focus of the film as it is based on a book by the real Jane Hawking. It does a beautiful character study of this relationship over time and the effects of their specific hardships on their ability to be happy. This couple is valiantly humanized and terrifically imperfect as the subtle (and very British) work of Felicity Jones draws out our sympathies while Eddie Redmayne displays excellent craftsmanship as he tells this mans story through his eyes. Their world is also amplified by a gorgeous score and distinctive color washes that lift this film out of the monotony of a typical biopic.

However, I did find this film rather incomplete. Yes, the film successfully dictated a couples' love that evolves within their specific set of circumstances over time. That in and of itself is no small feat, and I do not wish to diminish that triumph.  Yet it rather left out what specifically makes Stephen fundamentally interesting: his work. There are some brief scenes that mention his contributions but they were fleeting and did not delve into his concepts with any great magnitude. 

Overall: An important story was told here but it lost sight of its roots. And when these roots are some of the greatest achievements of our time then we are missing a vital part of Stephen Hawking's story. We have lost the specifics of what he contributed to our universal story, and what is left is still good, but it's just not everything. 

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

Nominee

When it comes to film analysis there are any number of devices you can use to frame your discussion. One could argue a genre, country of origin, or industrial context (just to name a few) best inform the structure of a film, but in the case of any Wes Anderson film there is no question; Auteur Theory reigns supreme. That is to say above all else the director becomes the most influential part of the creative process; which is extremely apparent in the case of The Grand Budapest Hotel. The quirky vibrancy that propels this film onto the screen has the kind of specificity that could only be orchestrated by one person with an all encompassing vision. That does not mean he could have done it alone, but rather he has found a brand of storytelling so singular that he is is able to pull in some of the industries best to see this story to the end.

This brand he has created appeals to our childlike wonder but is infused with a dark humor all while remaining visually appealing. You feel as if you are watching a storybook unfold, and The Grand Budapest Hotel is certainly no exception. This story of a hotel concierge, (Ralph Fiennes) and his Lobby boy (Tony Revolori) has it all: love, suspense, murder, and mad cap antics all around. So what keeps it from being to much? Well, for one Anderson knows exactly what to exaggerate and what to pull back. He has this way of creating antithesis by contrasting this visually enthralling world with some of the most understated dialogue making the overall product even more delightful.

This matter of fact writing within these insane contexts is what really sells the humor, but you also need a cast of dedicated actors to put these caricatures on the screen. And with this line up it is no surprise that it works. Ralph Fiennes is just impeccable and his flamboyance is well matched by newcomer Tony Revolori's deadpan. While the rest of this sprawling ensemble truly finds the whimsy to bring this fantasy to life.

Yet, perhaps the most impressive part is the space the actors negotiate seems to have a character of it's own. This hotel and the world around it is fully realized. Every frame is expertly constructed to show only what Anderson wants to show you, and because of that there is so much to see. With the camera placing the actors symmetrically within every frame, you are able to take in the jam packed colorful imagery that Anderson gives us and it's certainly a pleasure.

Overall: I feel like this film was Wes Anderson's artisitc manifesto. He did everything he does and he did it the only way he knows how, with panache. It's certainly one of the most refreshing styles I have seen, and I enjoyed every minute of this crazy ride. So, in the words of M. Gustave, the concierge himself, "You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that's what we provide in out own modest, humble, insignificant...oh, fuck it." Happy Watching!

Selma (2014)

Nominee

When it comes to Selma I find two of my philosophies to be relevant. The first: There are certain historical atrocities we as a cultural collective can never truly atone for, but we must try to engage these subjects by any means possible. Because to let these events fade away for the sake of comfort would be an even graver transgression. However, I must confess, I also have a rather large amount of skepticism towards the 'biopic' format. My main issue steams from the fact that the importance is innately built into the individual's life story and the films can very quickly become overt in their message and exude a sort self-righteous aloofness. So the main question: Would Selma be able to overcome the biopic aspect and give homage to a greater cultural necessity for dialogue? I can now say yes it can.

With the rise of the #BlackLivesMatter movement in light of the lose of life in Ferguson, and New York City it was the perfect time to be reminded that these events did not happen in a vacuum. Our present is informed by a long complicated history and we need to know the past if we hope to make any progress with our future especially when grappling with the topic of race. Selma tells the story of the 1965 marches that took place in Alabama to completely implement the African American right to vote. I think it was a prudent choice to focus on this portion of the Civil Rights movement. These marches took place after Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech, at a time when the south had been desegregated on paper but not in practice. This shows that the fight for social justice is never truly over. 

As far as the film's approach to Martin Luther King, Jr. himself it did an admirable job of telling the story of the man, not just the icon. This King is plagued by uncertainty at times, and the strain his infidelity places on his family life is not hidden away, but instead depicted to emphasis King's humanity. David Oyelowo as King and Carmen Ejogo as Coretta beautifully portray this couple's journey. If one of them falters the other always seemingly finds the strength to raise up their partner, while the rest of this sprawling cast, featuring the talents of Oprah and Cuba Gooding, Jr, enact pure empathy in the viewers. 

The viewership's sense of responsibility to attend to this story also comes from the honesty the camera finds amongst the violence. Ava DuVernay is relentless in placing the camera in the mist of these heartbreaking scenes of police brutality, and by doing so we see not the nameless mob but individual faces with stories of their own. It is because we witness this immeasurable pain with them that their final arrival at Montgomery is all the more triumphant. 

Overall: This film was carefully crafted with truth and a sense of importance, while still placing trust in the intelligence of the audience. It also came at the right time, for it is time for us to once again be dissatisfied with the status quo. Let us revisit King's vision of possibility and work for a better version of equality because not only can we be better, we must be. In memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. : Happy Watching.