It happened on Friday. 1917 set foot in the world, and we prognosticators could suddenly, finally, gratefully see the finish line. The finish line to the only race that matters from August through November and, yes, until February.
Every major Oscar contender has screened, has stuck or botched the critical landing, has soared or flamed out at the specialty or domestic or international box office, has continued to penetrate the conversation after festivals or summer months, or will sadly find itself relegated to Entertainment Weekly and Vulture’s “underrated” lists in four or five years. Such a designation perhaps foretells a legacy, but imply awards glory it does not. And still some films await commercial fortunes or write-downs, but now, at least, we can assess the field.
Sam Mendes’s Great War epic will certainly benefit from newcomer’s energy, from the Academy’s disposition toward the genre and toward the talent involved (Mendes, the cinematographer Roger Deakins and the production designer Dennis Gassner are among previous winners on-board), and from a genuinely rewarding premise that turns a technical gimmick into an essential cinematic constraint. But how significant are the festival advantages on which the film has missed out?
It is hard to say. The competition feels especially dense this season, probably because Netflix is fielding three very serious and very expensive campaigns (last year it thrust most of its weight behind Roma) and because traditional bellwethers have not rewarded recipients of critics’ most emphatic acclaim. The viability of international entries mirrors last year’s Foreign Language slate, with likely spillover into general categories; topicality, auteurism and old-fashioned fun abound in equal measure, though rarely from the same film. It’s anyone’s guess as to which mood the Academy will set, though in a consequential election year, they might well want to make a statement. Given that, who are the frontrunners?
Since July a big one has been Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, widely considered a late-career highlight for the director, and a showcase for Brad Pitt. The film is a tribute to the industry, much like La La Land, and its revisionist history, along with mostly sharp dialogue, forms a smart and satisfying (if overlong) script. Tarantino does waste Margot Robbie, which a New York Times reporter at Cannes was quick to point out, but the film’s biggest weakness is its release date, which for past mid-year nominees hasn’t translated to above-the-line victories.
Marriage Story and The Irishman are both exceptional projects from established filmmakers, and if 20th-Century Fox was behind the latter and Sony Picture Classics the former both might easily be walking home with statuettes in February. But Netflix’s stature as a usurper and a threat cost Roma Best Picture—I’m convinced—even if their deep pockets were the only ones willing to spend on a Spanish-language period piece. I will be surprised if The Two Popes isn’t squeezed out, and at this point it doesn’t seem likely Todd Haynes’s last-minute entry Dark Waters or Marielle Heller’s Mister Rogers biopic A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood can push through. Bombshell is out except for Lead and Supporting Actress; so are Honey Boy (screenplay, perhaps?), Waves and The Lighthouse, sadly, apart from Supporting Actor for Willem Dafoe and Cinematography, perhaps.
We wouldn’t be talking about Jojo Rabbit if it hadn’t won the People’s Choice award at Toronto Film Festival, but if we are to believe in precedent then it’s basically guaranteed a spot on the Picture shortlist. Fox Searchlight, awash in experience, will also campaign hard.
Clint Eastwood’s Richard Jewell, Greta Gerwig’s Little Women and the Safdie Brothers’ Uncut Gems, with late December releases, are clearly hoping that the competition settles down a bit before they swoop in for voters’ attention. Eastwood dominated the holiday corridor with Million Dollar Baby and American Sniper, which scored big at the 2005 and 2015 ceremonies, respectively; Gerwig is the only female creative presence behind a serious player, so it is very likely Little Women will emerge in January with one of the highest nomination counts.
The Safdies are counting on the draw of a revelatory Adam Sandler, but the male field has already become a bloodbath. Will Leo even qualify? Ford v. Ferrari, a rollicking vintage studio drama, is admirably foregoing category fraud and campaigning both Matt Damon and Christian Bale as leads; they join Marriage Story’s Adam Driver, Joker’s Joaquin Phoenix, The Irishman’s Robert de Niro, and Pain and Glory’s Antonio Banderas in what has to be the most crowded year this century for Best Actor. Remember when Taron Egerton was kind of a frontrunner for Rocketman?
Conversely, the fifth slot for Best Actress could go to any number of decent performances in middling films, though Renée Zellweger, Saoirse Ronan, Scarlett Johannson and Charlize Theron should easily (and deservedly) fill out the first four.
Where am I placing my bets? It’s too early, of course, to make final judgments, but I see the Best Picture race splitting three ways, between The Irishman, 1917 and Parasite. My predictions for acting and directing are colored heavily by my desires, but I predict Adam Driver, Charlize Theron, Brad Pitt, and Laura Dern as victors. I haven’t yet watched Little Women or Uncut Gems, however, and would love for Sandler, Ronan, and Florence Pugh to win.
For some reason I can only envision a universe in which the gut-busting concoction that is Parasite takes Picture and Director. It is hard to overstate the laudatory intensity of audience response, or the freshness of Bong Joon-ho’s perspective, or the novelty of the setting, or the brilliance of that twist. I understand that the preferential ballot gave us Best Picture champions like The Shape of Water and Green Book, but it also gave us Moonlight. And recognizing an outsider’s allegory for the egregiousness of income inequality? Well, that would send a message.
Fergus Campbell is a sophomore in Columbia College.