The common refrain this season has been one of despair, of theatrical death by dearth.
The 2021 Tony Awards, honoring the Broadway season that was cut short by the Covid pandemic, are all about memory.
We’re countering this Oscar year’s slow death of a thousand cuts by ripping the whole bandage off.
David Fincher’s Mank far and away led the nomination count.
Twenty-twenty was by no measure a business-as-usual year, so don’t expect our gripes to be either.
Parasite earned four awards, edging out 1917 for best picture.
How could the essentially non-political 1917 not arrive as sweet solace in our cultural moment?
Given the academy’s long history and resurgent embrace of technical triumphs, we’re not holding our breath for an upset here.
The only thing louder than the vroom-vroom of James Mangold’s dad epic is the deafening chorus of “Best. Movie. Ever.”
One of the realities of the Oscar race is that you never want to peak too early.
Oscar has a long-standing history of using the screenplay awards for token gestures, especially toward writer-directors.
Oscar voters are suckers for scale, throwbacks, ostentation, and, above all, a sense of prestige.
The tea leaves are reading that it will be another win for middlebrow respectability.
One of the great mysteries of this year’s awards season is the ultimate fate of Jojo Rabbit.
The path of least resistance and most chronological distance almost always wins here.
The attractional dimensions of Roger Deakins’s work will have no problem finding favor with today’s Oscar voters.
Pundits and show producers didn’t quite get the pop star-studded best song lineup that they were hoping for this year.
The Oscars have a long history of awarding war films in this particular sound category.
Luckily for Joaquin Phoenix, he’s not up against anyone playing a real-life individual.
Bet against a message of hope and you may find yourself losing an Oscar pool.
It never hurts to let this academy feel as though they’re just liberal enough.