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Outtakes

Fearless Oscar Predictions 2025

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It is time! And whether you think Wicked was wonderful, Emilia Pérez was overrated or Nosferatu needed more love, one thing is certain. It will be tough for this year’s Oscar broadcast to reach the wild heights of last year. (Please bring back Nicolas Cage, Kate McKinnon and Ryan Gosling!)

In the meantime, here are our predictions for this year’s big winners:

Actress in a Supporting Role

For a while, it looked like Netflix’s big bet this year was going to make a big splash at Oscar. But as the race draws to a close, we think Emilia Pérez will content itself with just one win.

Should win: Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez

Will win: Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez

  • Monica Barbaro, A Complete Unknown
  • Ariana Grande, Wicked
  • Felicity Jones, The Brutalist
  • Isabella Rossellini, Conclave
  • Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez

Actor in a Supporting Role

What a great field this year. Each actor cut an unforgettable character.

Should win: Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain

Will win: Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain

  • Yura Borisov, Anora
  • Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain
  • Edward Norton, A Complete Unknown
  • Guy Pearce, The Brutalist
  • Jeremy Strong, The Apprentice

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)

There were two real standouts in this field in 2024. We believe one of those two will go home empty handed, but the other will take home the Oscar.

Should win: Greg Kwedar, Clint Bentley, Clarence Maclin, John “Divine G” Whitfield, Sing Sing

Will win: RaMell Ross and Joslyn Barnes, Nickel Boys

  • A Complete Unknown: James Mangold and Jay Cocks
  • Conclave: Peter Straughan
  • Emilia Pérez: Jacques Audiard; in collaboration with Thomas Bidegain, Lea Mysius and Nicolas Livecchi
  • Nickel Boys: RaMell Ross and Joslyn Barnes
  • Sing Sing: Greg Kwedar and Clint Bentley; story by Clint Bentley, Greg Kwedar, Clarence Maclin, John “Divine G” Whitfield

Writing (Original Screenplay)

What’s the old cliché —the film that should win best picture usually wins best screenplay instead? This year, we predict both awards go the same direction, but we’d love to see one messy piece of female rage get it instead.

Should win: Coralie Fargeat, The Substance

Will win: Sean Baker, Anora

  • Anora: Sean Baker
  • The Brutalist: Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvold
  • A Real Pain: Jesse Eisenberg
  • September 5: Moritz Binder, Tim Fehlbaum; co-written by Alex David
  • The Substance: Coralie Fargeat

Documentary Feature Film

As is often the case, the Academy draws attention to five brilliant nonfiction films, each shining a light on a piece of reality that we would otherwise never see. Vital, brilliant, necessary art, each one of these. Any win is justified.

Should win: No Other Land

Will win: No Other Land

  • Black Box Diaries
  • No Other Land
  • Porcelain War
  • Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat
  • Sugarcane

International Feature Film

Here’s another great and wildly varied category.

Should win: I’m Still Here

Will win: I’m Still Here

  • I’m Still Here: Brazil
  • The Girl with the Needle: Denmark
  • Emilia Pérez: France
  • The Seed of the Sacred Fig: Germany
  • Flow: Latvia

Animated Feature Film

This category is such a joy this year, with five of the year’s best features.

Should win: The Wild Robot

Will win: The Wild Robot

  • Flow
  • Inside Out 2
  • Memoir of a Snail
  • Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl
  • The Wild Robot

Actor in a Leading Role

Tough call here, but we’re thinking Chalamet’s SAG win gives him the edge over Brody.

Should win: Colman Domingo, Sing Sing

Will win: Timothee Chalamet, A Complete Unknown

  • Adrien Brody, The Brutalist
  • Timothee Chalamet, A Complete Unknown
  • Colman Domingo, Sing Sing
  • Ralph Fiennes, Conclave
  • Sebastian Stan, The Apprentice

Actress in a Leading Role

Should win: Demi Moore, The Substance

Will win: Demi Moore, The Substance

  • Cynthia Erivo, Wicked
  • Karla Sofia Gascon, Emilia Pérez
  • Mikey Madison, Anora
  • Demi Moore, The Substance
  • Fernanda Torres, I’m Still Here

Best Director

Would we cry if Fargeat won this? Tears of joy, maybe. But the likelihood is low and, to be honest, the tightrope Baker walked to give his film an almost slapstick comedic tone (given that it’s a film about a group of mobsters who kidnap a sex worker) is a real testament to his mastery of the craft of direction.

Should win: Sean Baker, Anora

Will win: Sean Baker, Anora

  • Anora: Sean Baker
  • The Brutalist: Brady Corbet
  • A Complete Unknown: James Mangold
  • Emilia Pérez: Jacques Audiard
  • The Substance: Coralie Fargeat

Best Picture

The Substance has a real shot, with Conclave as the upset possibility.

Should win: Anora

Will win: Anora

  • Anora
  • The Brutalist
  • A Complete Unknown
  • Conclave
  • Dune: Part Two
  • Emilia Pérez
  • I’m Still Here
  • Nickel Boys
  • The Substance

The Academy Awards are Sunday, March 2nd, live on ABC and Hulu with Conan O’Brien hosting.

Fright Club

Fright Club: Skeletons in the Closet, 2025

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It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Maybe our favorite podcast of the year, the annual celebration of all the terrible horror movies that the new crop of Oscar nominees might just want you to forget they ever made. But will we? Never!

Happy to see so much horror appreciated this year: The Substance, Nosferatu, Alien: Romulus. But that’s for another podcast. Today, let’s pry open some closets and see what’s festering in there.

5. Sebastian Stan: The Apparition (2012)

Yawntastic! Ben (Stan) participates in a college experiment with Patrick (Tom Felton), who believes that if you believe hard enough in a spirit even if you know it doesn’t exist, it suddenly will exist.

And if that’s not dumb enough, it will also reappear suddenly many years later. And also hunt you down even if you’re far away, haven’t believed in it again, or I don’t know? And it turns into mold? Because it’s affected by energy? Or something? And it doesn’t like camping? Or it does?

Here’s what I know for sure. It’s boring as hell.

4. Guy Pearce: The Seventh Day (2021)

You know what every Guy Pearce fan should see? You should see Ravenous. It’s so good! Scary, tense, weird in the best way. You know what you probably shouldn’t see? The Seventh Day.

First of all, Justin P. Lange’s follow up to his underseen gem The Dark with an exorcism movie. Yawn. Then he goes on to waste real talent—Keith David and Stephen Lang. Pearce plays a legendary, no-frills, even controversial and brackish exorcist who’s taken on a trainee. But all is not what it seems and none of it’s very interesting. There’s a kind of intriguing premise hidden underneath all the boring whatnot, but it does seem like Pearce is trying to elevate the material.

3. Adrien Brody: Giallo (2009)

Dario Argento made some incredible films. Giallo is not one of them. It fits squarely into the uninspired, visually bland, poorly plotted output we saw from him post-Opera.

Adrien Brody, in duel roles, didn’t seem to care for the film, either. He used the pseudonym Byron Deidra, but you’ll know it’s him. Both times. There was a time when Argento’s films were so stylish, so visually arresting and gloriously weird that no one cared how silly the plot was. But rob a film of that panache and the borrowed, bland, dumb plotting is hard to miss.

Brody’s no stranger to horror, and while none of these are masterpieces, all but Giallo is decent: Wrecked, Predators, Splice, The Jacket, The Summer of Sam. We’re obligated to mention The Village, too, although we’re not fans.

2. Isabella Rossellini: Infected (2008)

What on earth was the tortured ingenue in the masterpiece Blue Velvet doing in Adam Weissman’s 2008 made-for-TV contagion/alien invasion flick? She’s great, actually, and her big-reveal scene is no doubt the reason she took the role. It’s inadvertently hilarious.

Judd Nelson co-stars. He may have been actively in a coma. But it’s worth it just to see Rossellini’s big scene. It’s on YouTube and dailymotion—wouldn’t want you to pay for it!

https://www.imdb.com/video/vi2612003353/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk

1. Demi Moore: Parasite (1982)

Friend of the show Charles Band directed this treasure of low rent cinema. Demi Moore stars ad spunky, lemon loving Pat in a post apocalyptic desert town. “Sickies” run wild, often topless. Work camp escapees are even worse. Still, somehow Pat trusts the stranger (Robert Glaudini), a doctor who used to create parasites for the government and is now infected with one. She’s just helpful like that.

Moore does not embarrass herself, and that’s tough given the terrible writing and stiff scene partner. Best part is the creature, which we believe inspired the look of the beast in Killer Condom. High praise!

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By Design

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The Brutalist

by George Wolf

After a series of memorable supporting roles (including Thirteen, Funny Games, and Melancholia), Brady Corbet took a step toward filmmaking in 2012 as co-writer and star of the creepily effective Antonio Campos thriller Simon Killer. He moved behind the camera for The Childhood of a Leader (2015) and Vox Lux (2018), teaming with his co-writer and wife Mona Fastvold for two captivating features anchored in history.

But as impressive as Corbet’s filmography has been so far, the audacious scope (three and a half hours, with an intermission) and ambitious craftsmanship (Corbet and cinematographer Lol Crawley shoot in 70mm VistaVision – out of date in American since the early 60s) of The Brutalist arrives as an utterly shocking step forward. And even when it teeters on a late, self-indulgent precipice, the film heralds Corbet and Fastvold as filmmakers of impressive vision and skill.

Though their characters are again changed by history, this time they give those characters more of a chance to shape it. We arrive in post-WWII America with László Tóth (an astounding Adrien Brody), a Hungarian who has survived the Nazi concentration camps and come to work with his cousin Attila (Alessandro Nivola) in a Pennsylvania furniture store. Corbet’s gorgeous upside-down framing of the Statue of Liberty foreshadows both Tóth’s future in a new land and the nimble camerawork to come, with the memorable scale from Daniel Blumberg’s majestic score signaling the increasing stakes.

László has lost much to wartime trauma, and Brody makes the pain palpable. But as he waits for word as to when his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones, never better) and niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy) may join him in America, László holds tight to his pride from working as a celebrated architect in Budapest.

When local tycoon Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce, terrific as the film’s Daniel Day-Lewis) learns of László’s talent, he hires him to design a long desired community center. The project will come to consume László’s very existence.

Corbet assembles the saga in two chapters, and after a fairly straightforward setup in Act One, motives and messaging become more abstract. On the surface is an epic tale of post war America’s give and take relationship with its immigrants, of beauty and art surviving the worst of humanity and of the deep complexities within the American capitalist dream. And if it stopped there, The Brutalist would stand as a grand achievement. But László isn’t the only architect thinking very big here, and Corbet builds up Act Two (and the accompanying epilogue) with grand ideas on personal legacy, Jewish history, sexual repression, power and shame, and ultimately, more questions than he’s intending to answer.

Corbet’s direction also becomes more insistent, adding shots that move away from what his characters would naturally notice to stress elements for audience benefit. The gorgeous photography, muscular framing and powerful performances ensure nothing goes to waste, but a road to a grand and profound statement begins to gather some stones.

While the film does feel overlong, it is never boring, as nearly every frame contains something, or someone, intriguing. Zsófia’s arc – that of a girl rendered mute from wartime trauma who grows to reclaim her destiny – could fuel its own feature film, as could Attila’s path to assimilation, and any number of supporting characters adding memorable moments to the landscape.

And The Brutalist is nothing if not memorable. Though the sheer accomplishment may stand a bit taller than the final statement, it cements Corbet as a voice that cannot be ignored.

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Take Me Down

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Asteroid City

by Hope Madden and George Wolf

Welcome to Asteroid City, a grief comedy that may be the most Wes Anderson-y movie Wes Anderson has ever made. Or, welcome to “Asteroid City” – the stage play from famous writer Conrad Earp (Edward Norton) upon which Asteroid City, the film (TV show?) is based. Actively. Brian Cranston will explain as he, the narrator of “Asteroid City”, deconstructs the meticulous framing device Anderson crafts to keep us just one layer further from chaos.

“We are all just characters in a play that we don’t understand.”

As is so often the case, writer/director Anderson painstakingly creates a world – colorful, peculiar, emotionally tight lipped – brimming with characters (equally colorful, peculiar and emotionally tight-lipped). Brimming. About 50 speaking characters stand or sit precisely on their mark, perfectly framed, each one doing their all to keep chaos at bay.

Like Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman), a widowed war photographer stranded with his teenaged son (scene-stealer Jake Ryan from Eighth Grade) and three daughters in the clean desert nowhereville of Asteroid City, where a “stargazing event” will soon commence. Cinematographer Robert D.  Yeoman’s 360-degree swivel shows all you need to see: diner, roadway cabins, onramp to nowhere, and the garage where the town mechanic (Matt Dillon) has found that Augie’s wagon is now deceased.

Augie’s father-in-law Stanley Zak (Tom Hanks, in the usual Bill Murray role) fires ups his Cadillac and arrives for a rescue, only to find no one can leave Asteroid City on account of the alien.

Yep, an alien! He just came down sure as you please and made off with the city’s prized meteorite! Everybody saw it – including famous actress Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson) and all the visiting school kids in Miss June’s (Maya Hawke) class!

So the whole city’s on lockdown, while General Gibson (Jeffery Wright) and Dr. Hickenlooper (Tilda Swinton) assess the situation and Augie realizes he just may have snapped the only photo of an honest to goodness alien.

All the unique and wonderful trademarks of Anderson’s craftsmanship are on display. Both the city itself, and the surrounding stage area where the play is performed, are given distinct aesthetics that benefit equally from Anderson’s commitment to symmetry, palette and depth-of-field.

The wordplay is succinct and witty per usual, dancing through themes of science, art, and Cold War paranoia. But while Anderson’s last film, The French Dispatch, left its procession of indelibly offbeat characters to fend for themselves, this time they’re connected with the sterile humanity that buoys the best of his work.

“You can’t wake up if you don’t fall asleep!”

You’ll hear that several times in Asteroid City, enough to know that Anderson hopes we’re paying attention. Leave yourself open – to what art, and science, is saying – and your world might seem a little more colorful.

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Bloody Well Write

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The French Dispatch

by Hope Madden and George Wolf

Who’s ready for Wes Anderson’s most Wes Anderson-y movie to date?

It feels like we say that every time he releases a new film, but The French Dispatch is absolutely the inimitable auteur at his most Andersonesque.

The French Dispatch is a magazine — a weekly addition to a Kansas newspaper covering the ins and outs of Ennui, France, the town where the periodical is based. The film itself is an anthology, four shorts (four of the stories published in the final edition) held together not by the one character each has in common, editor Arthur Howitzer, Jr. (Bill Murray), but by Anderson’s giddy admiration for France and The New Yorker.

Boasting everything you’ve come to expect from a Wes Anderson film — meticulous set design, vibrant color, symmetrical composition, elegance and artifice in equal measure, and a massive cast brimming with his own stock ensemble — the film is not one you might mistake for a Scorsese or a Spielberg.

Expect Anderson regulars Tilda Swinton, Mathieu Amalric, Lea Deydoux, Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody, Frances McDormand and newcomers Benicio Del Toro, Timothee Chalamet and Jeffrey Wright. And those are the big roles (although truth be told, no one is on screen all that long).

Blink and you might miss Saoirse Ronin, Willem Dafoe, Henry Winkler, Elisabeth Moss, Ed Norton, Christoph Waltz, Liev Schreiber and Jason Schwartzman.

In the segment filed under the “Taste and Smells” section, Dispatch writer Roebuck Wright (Wright) turns in a sprawling profile on master chef Nescaffier (Steve Park) that – to Howitzer’s chagrin – contains merely one quote from Nescaffier himself. As with the other pieces of the anthology, the many tangents of the piece are explained through Anjelica Huston’s narration, which can’t replace a truly emotional through line and holds the film back from resonating beyond its immaculate construction.

Anderson’s framing of symmetry and motion has never been more tightly controlled, and the film becomes a parade of wonderfully assembled visuals paired with intellectual wordplay and an appropriately spare score from Alexander Desplat.

As a tribute to a lost era of journalism and the indelible writers that drove it, Anderson delivers a fascinating and meticulous exercise boasting impeccable craftsmanship and scattershot moments of wry humor. But the layer of humanity that elevates the writer/director’s most complete films (Rushmore, Moonrise Kingdom, The Grand Budapest Hotel) never makes it from page to screen, and The French Dispatch ultimately earns more respect than feeling.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0_hwGWen-I

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You Had Me at Wes Anderson

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The Grand Budapest Hotel

by Hope Madden

Let’s be honest, film critics love Wes Anderson. How can we help ourselves? An auteur if ever there was one, he owns a style unlike any other, marries whimsy with melancholy, gathers impeccable casts, draws beautifully unexpected performances – basically, he invites us into an imagination so wonderful and unusual that we are left breathless and giddy. We are not made of stone.

So, yes, to quote a recent (and brilliant) SNL sketch, with The Grand Budapest Hotel, you had me at Wes Anderson.

To be fair, with Anderson’s previous and most masterful effort, Moonrise Kingdom, he set a pretty high bar for himself. And while GBH doesn’t offer quite the heart of that picture, there’s a real darkness to this brightly colored outing that gives it a haunting quality quite unlike any of his previous films.

It’s a story told in flashback by one time lobby boy Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) of the last great hotel concierge, M. Gustave (Ralph Feinnes), and a conspiracy, an art theft, a jailbreak, excellent manners, and finely crafted pastries.

The filmmaker’s inimitable framing and visual panache is unmatched, but he’s taken it to new highs with this effort. A frothy combination of artifice and reality, GBH amounts to a wickedly clever dark comedy despite its cheery palette. Anderson’s eccentric artistry belies a mournful theme.

Feinnes is magnificent in the central role, and the cast Anderson puts in orbit around him are equally wonderful. Adrien Brody, conjuring Snidley Whiplash, makes for an exceptional nemesis, while Anderson regular Willem Dafoe cuts an impressive figure as his thug sidekick.

The only filmmaker who can out-cameo a Muppet movie includes brief but memorable, brilliantly deadpan scenes with all the old gang: Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, Bob Balaban, Harvey Keitel. But the real scene stealer is Europe itself.

Set between the two great wars, the film is a smoky ode to bygone glamour, a precisely drawn if slightly faded love letter to an image of the past.

Of course it is.

Says Zero of his mentor Gustav, “His world had vanished long before he ever entered it, but he certainly sustained the illusion with a marvelous grace.” He could obviously have been speaking of the director as well.

 

Verdict-4-5-Stars