A very mixed bag and the best for last (and not nominated): 2024 Oscar-nominated animation shorts

The easiest answer for why this review took four days to get around to writing while the other two were both done the next day is because I was fairly underwhelmed by this year's offering in the Animated section (and, admittedly, I was writing other things, too), with one real exception that didn't even get nominated. So, yeah... But, I recall saying the same thing last year, so perhaps my standards (former comic writer; animation fan) are just higher in this category than others.

One of those that I really appreciated, thankfully, was the first: Our Uniform. It's a simple survey of the clothing requirements for girls and young women in Iranian society, which director, Yegane Moghaddam, animates atop images of various fabrics so that there's a real texture to the film, almost literally. There's a disclaimer at the front about how she's not criticizing the wearing of hijab but the gently mocking tone throughout ("... while other people can wear what they want...") is evident. The inside joke is that the choice of clothing can both conceal and reveal the motivations of the wearer and the state requiring such to be worn because, after all, men don't have those restrictions in the Islamic Republic. These are the obstacles that you have to (ahem) skirt in order to get your message across in a repressive society and I think Moghaddam delivered on her intent, with a smart and creative execution of the medium, as well.

The next selection was Pachyderme, a more standard animated approach (drawn and CGI) about a young girl in the south of France who's trying to translate the trauma she's experiencing at the hands of her grandfather who dotes on her but also takes advantage of her (healing her fishhook-wounded finger with the "healing kiss", for example.) Director Stéphanie Clément did a good job of creating an eerie atmosphere with what should have been bright summers at grandma and grandpa's house by restraining the color palette and keeping everything a bit misty, not only to emphasize the distance of the memories and the girl's attempt to suppress them, but also to demonstrate the unease that she felt while staying there. It just felt to me that she and writer Marc Rius kind of missed the target, in that the broad strokes of the story could easily be misinterpreted as simply childhood fascination with the wood knots in the ceiling. I think in their attempt to be indirect, again to emphasize that distance (natural or self-imposed) from these memories and to not come right out and state the abuse she was suffering, they lost the thread a bit. Visually, there was nothing particularly noteworthy, either.

Letter to a Pig, on the other hand, stepped it up a notch in terms of translating distant memories of trauma. The story is about an elderly man in a classroom reading the letter he wrote to a pig who helped to conceal his presence in a farmhouse where SS soldiers were looking for him during World War II. While most of the students are unimpressed, one young girl begins envisioning a train of twisted variations on identity and memories. This film was "deeper" than the other two, in that it was longer and, thus, had more time for its scenes and moments to settle and play into other meanings of the trauma of being less than human, but perhaps just as empathetic as the animal who enabled the storyteller's escape. I appreciated the animation style, as it kept largely to black-and-white to emphasize the tension of the story and the fine line work of the artists, but also dropped in spots of color to provide texture so that the viewer didn't become detached from the black-and-white world. There's certainly an argument to be made that the topic is becoming a bit worn with age, but given the current political circumstances with the fascists in the US and events like what the Israeli state is doing to Gaza, I think the message may be more resonant than ever.

While the first three entries approached with subtle meanings (at least at first), the fourth entry, Ninety-Five Senses, didn't seem to have any particular meaning in mind at all when it opened. It was Tim Blake Nelson voicing a man who delivers an ode to the value of the five senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. Abruptly, we learn that he is delivering this ode from a prison cell, where he is about to be executed for the unintentional murder of a family that might not have occurred had he possessed one of the senses in question. It is, in part, a tour through the regrets of this man as he understands that less emotional choices might not have led him here, but also a pointed question at the nature of capital punishment for the execution of an impaired individual who acted without particular intent but will pay for it as if he did (the fact that the overall atmosphere is from the Southern US is, doubtlessly, no accident.) Visually, it was one of the best of the night, as the film veers through six different animation styles as he describes each one of the senses and then finishes with his current circumstances. I especially appreciated the pen-and-ink technique as he watched/remembered the flames engulfing the house.

Unfortunately, the last entry we saw among the nominated films was less impressive. War is Over!, Inspired by the Music of John and Yoko hits the high mark in terms of technical ability for the animation, with the 3-D CGI presenting the action in great detail and impact. And the story- of two soldiers on opposing sides in World War I playing chess against each other via carrier pigeon until an attack is ordered -is certainly something that any sane person can agree with and appreciate. But, overall, the production felt trite and was a marked contrast to the far more subtle storytelling of all of the other nominated films. It had serious money and star power behind it (akin to the dreadful Hallmark card of last year) and that seems to be what is supposed to carry it to success; along with the trite and obvious message that most voters will instantly be able to understand and applaud for. Unlike last year's winner, it's not a bad film. It just doesn't do much other than provide some really nice visuals and, again, deliver a message that most sane people should be able to agree with. There's nothing new or really inspiring here, on top of the insistence at looking at 50-year-old pop music as still the highest calling in modern culture.

And then the screen lit up with a bold, white title: "HIGHLY COMMENDABLE." This is the Academy's version of "honorable mention", which very rarely appears and is usually only for one short that didn't quite make the cut. This year, we got two.

The first was I'm Hip, where a self-assured cat (mildly reminiscent of Top Cat) sings and dances to Dave Frishberg's song of the same name, assuring everyone watching that he's the coolest guy in town. It's fairly amusing and hearkens back to the Hanna-Barbera era of animation (with erupting symbols (!!!) for emotion and characters able to survive any kind of fall or impact), but it left me wondering just what made it "highly commendable", since there was nothing particularly visually impressive about the techniques involved and it's not a story so much as a music video. It was a direct contrast to the heavier aspects of most of the nominated films, but that still shouldn't justify its inclusion. I liked it, but was left kind of mystified that it was part of the ensemble at all.

In contrast, there were no questions after Wild Summon as it was, for me, easily the best offering of the night and, of course, wasn't even nominated. It's a depiction of the lifespan of a female salmon, emerging from an egg, traveling down the river while avoiding predators (but still getting tagged by researchers) and venturing into the open ocean, only to have to make the return trip all the way back to her spawning point when the biological trigger is tripped. The salmon are represented as broad-mouthed women in wetsuits, complete with diving masks, and changing color based on their life stage. There's no deeper meaning to it, other than some references to industrial pollution hindering their life cycle, but it was still a fascinating story and the best visual presentation of the evening. This film easily could have replaced three of the five nominated pictures and would be my preference to win if it had.

As it is, my vote would probably go to Ninety-Five Senses, but I'm afraid that the deep, deep desire for Boomer music in the form of John and Yoko will probably carry the day. Meh. 

Tragedy, before and after, with a dose of whimsy: 2024 Oscar-nominated Live Action shorts

The next category, which we actually saw first, was Live Action. As noted earlier, in general, this was the better overall collection of films which, IIRC, is similar to last year.

The After- The film tells the story of a businessman who sees both his wife and child murdered in front of him and how he lives in the aftermath (hence, the title.) First off, it's a great performance by David Oyelowo, whom I'm most familiar with from Star Wars: Rebels of all things, as the voice of Agent Kallus. He's been in small parts in a number of films I've seen, but now that I've seen this performance, I think I'm going to seek out some of his starring work. But his performance was the strongest part of the film, as the scenario to enact the plot was bordering on the hard-to-believe (the UK, having sane gun laws, doesn't have nearly the ease with which a double murder could occur in the US, as we are just days away from that most American of events: a mass shooting at a Super Bowl parade.) After that, the story simply shows Dayo (Oyelowo) living life as a rideshare driver and listening to his clients get on with the various travails of their lives that don't even approach the anguish that he's experienced and don't provide him any progress toward dealing with his grief until his last job, which then initiates a breakthrough... which they then completely spoil by switching the subtle score to a pop song that's somehow supposed to embody this man's grief. It utterly ruined the moment for me and took away all the energy that Oyelowo's work had generated. This was my least favorite of the set, but still worth the time to see.

Red, White and Blue- In immediate contrast, this was easily the best of the night for me. Written and directed by Nazrin Choudhury, it's a very timely episode about a single mother in Arkansas searching for an abortion provider and having to find money and time to travel to Missouri to find one. Like The Barber of Little Rock (also in Arkansas, appropriately enough), it's a great rendition of the economic realities that many people in this country face and whom have their lives affected by the callous decisions of others working in the name of ardent ideology and social control which have far-reaching effects that they either don't know, don't care about or are, of course, the point. Brittany Snow is excellent as Rachel and the film demonstrates not just the emotional anguish and economic desperation that she endures, but also the often demeaning circumstances by which she's surviving the "American Dream." It's an evident political statement, as well, not least when Rachel makes it to a clinic without an appointment and says that she's traveled all the way from Arkansas and the nurse at the front desk waves a hand at the crowded waiting room and says: "You and all the rest of them from THAT state." There are, as always, a multiplicity of two Americas; one set defined by money, another by race, and yet another by political boundaries between the 21st century states and those still dominated by 19th-century thought (and misogyny, which is even worse than the 21st century version.) This was the most effective dramatic punch of the night and one that will probably last the longest with many viewers.

Knight of Fortune- Continuing the theme of tragedy, this film is about a recent widower, Karl (a brilliant Leif Andrée) having to confront the viewing of his wife in the local morgue. While there, Karl encounters Torben (the also excellent Jens Jørn Spottag), another widower who asks Karl for help with his own efforts of viewing and through his grief who ends up leading him on a much more involved experience than Karl expected. Along the way, they're frequently in the company of the mortuary porter (Jesper Lohmann) whom, although he says he's seen it all, probably hasn't seen much like this. Despite the overall theme of tragedy, there are enough lighthearted moments throughout the story that it's almost impossible to come away from the film without feeling like you've experienced something genuinely uplifting. There's wonderful attention to detail, as well, in things like the fact that Andrée is a Swedish actor and so speaks Swedish, while Spottag is Danish and, thus, speaks that language and they have to take a moment to assure each other that they're saying the same appropriate things in these trying circumstances. It's obviously much more relevant if you know those languages and live in those countries, but this is a Danish film. Andrée's face when they have a close encounter with another family in a viewing room is something I'm going to remember for a long time. Wonderfully acted and a great short story, this was my second favorite of the evening.

Invincible- Based on a true story, Invincible presents the circumstances of Marc-Antoine Bernier (Léokim Beaumier-Lépine), a teenager with some prominent mental health issues in a youth detention center in Canada. Allowed weekend furloughs with his somewhat distant parents, the intense young man finds even the rather loose constraints of the center (can wear their own clothing, are taken to outside recreation like swimming pools, etc.) so confining that he continually acts out and brings the hand of the administration down upon himself.. This yearning for a greater freedom than even outside life can provide becomes most evident when an instructor reads aloud the poem that he's written in class. I've felt that urge for something different that's indefinable and just beyond one's grasp and the frustration that it brings with it, so this character resonated with me quite a bit. The fact that his parents mirrored mine in their almost complete indifference to the unique identity that is their son until he does something wrong also struck me as quite familiar. The film continues with the overall theme of the night and is a solid entry for the trophy, even if overshadowed by some of the others. I'd be interested to see more of Beaumier-Lépine's work.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar- The final entry is the one that had both the blockbuster writer and director (Wes Anderson) and the equally prominent cast (Benedict Cumberbatch, Ben Kingsley, Ralph Fiennes, Dev Patel, among others.) As I mentioned a few months back, this immediately struck me as another collection of actors "dying to be in a Wes Anderson", so here was their opportunity. It's also the second time that Anderson has adapted a Roald Dahl work (Fantastic Mr. Fox), although this story was even more suited to Anderson's usual approach than the previous. As I'm an Anderson fan, you'd think this would have been my favorite, but like I mentioned those few months ago, I'm to the point where what I'm seeing from him no longer seems original and this was no different. I think it ran too long for what it was trying to do and, although it was funny in his usual whimsical style, also felt rather repetitive by the end. I really appreciated Patel's narration of much of the story and his constant breaking of the fourth wall to demonstrate that narration ("What other ways? [looks at audience], I said.") The production values were the highest of the set, by far, because it had the most money and star power behind it, so it seems like it's a heavyweight in a lightweight competition and, as much as I enjoyed it, it still didn't have the impact that RWB and Knight had for me.

My assumption is that the trophy goes to Henry Sugar because of that star power and production value, but I still think Red, White and Blue was the best of a very good lot. We'll finish off tomorrow with Animation.

Music, books, living and building: 2024 Oscar-nominated documentary shorts

It's Oscar short season and we ended up seeing two categories in one day again. The second was Documentary, but that's the one I'm going to cover first because Live Action, collectively, was the better category this year.

Nâi Nai and Wài Pó- This was director Sean Wang's film about his paternal and maternal grandmothers, who live together to support each other, as their respective husbands had passed years ago. It's a very simple presentation about how they go about their daily lives; morning exercise and then activities of various sorts, like gardening or a day for dancing to music. It was quite funny and very cute seeing the two of them dress up in a variety of costumes which they freely admitted was because their grandson was there with a camera. It was also remarkably insightful on their polar opposite views on life, where Wài Pó, who is 83 said she felt like she was still 20, while Nâi Nai who is 94, said she felt like she was 100 years old. That perspective included their thoughts on the future, where the latter said that she would be fine with just another year or two of life, while the former bemoaned the fact that she had to die at some point when she clearly felt there was so much living to do. That extended to their activities, in which Wài Pó took the lead on thinking about trying new things, while Nâi Nai was content to flip through photo albums and phone numbers, reminiscing about the friends she'd lost and the good times she'd had with them. It was a great encapsulation of both elderly life and life, in general.

The Barber of Little Rock- This was the story of Arlo Washington, a Little Rock, AR entrepreneur who chose to follow the path of his mother, whose life was cut short at 31, and devote his life to work toward building and supporting his community. To that end, he started a barber college and used the money from that to begin People's Trust, a Community Development Financial Institution (CDFI; a non-profit bank), which provides micro and small loans to people in personal need or to begin businesses in the "south of the highway" section of Little Rock. It's a great depiction of life that much of (White) America never sees and almost immediately had me kicking myself for not still being involved in progressive politics, as these were the people and scenarios that I saw all the time when I was and whom still really need help. Arlo is an incredibly forward and positive thinker and the genuine emotion that frequently overwhelmed his clients when they finally found someone who would not only help them but actually listen to them was quite telling. I saw that frequently in my previous activity and it's a measure of both how much people in the "wealthiest nation in the world" still need help (especially if they're not White) and the humanity of those who make it their purpose to help them and, as Arlo frequently states, to grow the community as a whole. This was my second favorite among the offerings.

Island in Between- This was S. Leo Chiang's story about Kinmen, the small island right off the coast of mainland China which is a territory of the Republic of China (aka Taiwan.) As such, it was both the initial target of the People's Republic of China intentions to reclaim the territory it regards as its own and a heavily-militarized outpost that the Taiwanese regard as the first line of defense against the Red Menace. Chiang, who is originally from Kinmen, spent many years in the US, and is now a resident of Taipei, spends some time regaling us with the history of the island and the ardent propaganda against the looming enemy and how Kinmen was intended to be the launching point for the retaking of the mainland for the Chinese people and the destruction of the vile communists. Given that relations between the two nations have much improved since the 1950s, no one really thinks about that much anymore and, honestly, the film kind of reflects that neglect. It was a pretty rote depiction of the situation then and the tepid situation now and this was, by far, the least interesting of the nominated films.

The ABCs of Book Banning- This film, directed by Sheila Nevins, the head of MTV Documentary films, is obviously extremely timely. The most notable thing about it to me was that MTV still exists in any way, shape or form. I say that largely because I knew everything that was depicted here. Every time they put up another book cover that was promptly crossed with a glaring red "BANNED", "RESTRICTED", or "CHALLENGED", all I did was nod my head and think: "Yeah, I knew that already." I was clearly not the target audience. I also wondered why the font and format of those glaring red titles changed two-thirds of the way through the film. However, the real upside of the show was the collection of interviews with 7-10-year-olds who are the students of the schools where these books are being banned. To a person, all of them reacted with confusion and dismay at the idea that these stories and this information was being denied to them, especially when they learned exactly what these books were about. For example, And Tango Makes Three, a book about a penguin chick with two fathers (a situation that did happen at the Bronx Zoo and does happen in the wild) has been banned or challenged in multiple districts because it draws attention to the idea of same sex marriage; an appalling thought for the ignorant and/or religiously fanatical among society. The children presented with this book and others usually responded with "Why would they ban a book that just tells the story of people being who they are?" That, of course, is an extremely modern attitude which should give most hope for the future and the film overall does that. It just wasn't particularly new to me so, while I liked it, it's definitely a story I've heard before.

The Last Repair Shop- Right up front, this was my favorite documentary of the evening. That was because not only was it about music, but also because I didn't even know this program existed and was happily surprised that it did, especially in the environs of Los Angeles which, like many big cities, seemed like it had begun to phase out cultural activities for public school students. The program is one in which musical instruments are provided to those students and repaired for them when they inevitably encounter the problems that all crafted devices do. If it had just been about the repair shop for instruments, it wouldn't have been as interesting as it was because they also delved into the rather interesting characters who operate the shop and their backgrounds which led them to becoming experts in the repair and maintenance of brass, strings, woodwinds, and pianos. They include a single mother immigrant from Mexico, a man who came out in the early stages of the Gay Power movement in San Francisco, a former fiddle player for the Bodie Mountain Express, and an Armenian refugee from Azerbaijan. All of their stories are interesting and provide context for how they ended up assisting the musical dreams of children across the spectrum of LA existence. Needless to say, the story (ahem) sang to me and, for once, I think my favorite is also the clear favorite for the Oscar this year.

Next up is Live Action.