The Quinta’s Ghost is an animated horror short that dramatizes the twilight years of Francisco Goya, as he paints his Black Paintings in his house, the Quinta del Sordo (House of the Deaf Man). In a novel twist, the story is narrated from the point of view of the Quinta itself, responding to what Goya paints on its walls. The short, done in computer animation, brings the demons and other nightmarish imagery of Goya’s work to life, incorporating state-of-the-art techniques such as VR painting. It’s a hellish depiction of an artist suffering through grief, madness, and issues of identity.

Chile has had some top-notch adult animation, especially in the horror genre, but Petra and the Sun is better filed under morbid humor, and it was an especially effective example of it too. In the Andes, 71-year-old Petra lives a lonely life until hotter-than-usual weather reveals the frozen body of a century-old mountaineer. Petra takes the body home, thaws it, and spends some uncomfortably in-depth quality time with his preserved corpse…the disappearance of which the police are aware of. Despite its premise, this was one of the funniest films they showed, though it’s definitely not for the squeamish. I felt that the ending could’ve been handled better, but overall, this one I really enjoyed. This short also won a Special Jury Mention.

How is River is Born was definitely one of the more mature shorts in the set. A woman has a sensual experience with what appears to be a nature goddess, but ultimately ends up being something less yet significantly more. This one’s pretty simple in terms of story, and is mostly carried by the beautiful animation.

Ovary-Acting is a comedy short about a 34-year-old woman who is pressured by her family and motherly friends to have children. As the stress gets to her, she unexpectedly gives birth her talking ovaries, leading to a musical argument about the pros and cons of motherhood. The animation style, which uses knit puppets with 2D-animated mouths, brings to mind something out of an R-rated version of KaBlam! This was definitely a fun one to watch, and it has a great sense of humor and heart to it.

Still Moving follows a divorced mother having a stressful car ride with her daughter as they head to their new home. The strength of this short is in the animation, which is probably one of the best depictions of anxiety I’ve seen in recent memory. It’s really experimental, though it definitely seems to be the main focus of the short over the story.

A Night at the Rest Area is an anime short in which a group of anthropomorphic animals on a bus stop at a rest area. There’s really not much to say about this one in terms of story. However, what it lacks in plot it makes up for with gentle yet effective comedy about everyday life. There’s a real appreciation of the mundane, where even the jingle playing as the nearby vending machine heats up your meal is given focus. Obviously, the use of animals adds to a lot of the humor, and the sketchy character designs are great. One of my favorite jokes in this involves a convenience store employee who is anything but convenient, and the punchline being obvious doesn’t make it any less funny (or relatable). This one doesn’t have much but in a way it also has a lot.

The Piano is a hand-drawn short in which a young girl discovers her father playing the piano late at night, creating a bond that lasts into adulthood. The animation is amazing, the music is beautiful, and the ending will warm your heart, if not open the tear ducts. It’s another short with a simple idea done extremely well.

As mentioned before, Best Animated Short went to Playing God, which I definitely feel could’ve fit into either of the shorts programs. This also qualifies it for the Oscars, and I guess I’ll find out if it gets nominated (though the short that won Sundance might be tough competition). Hopefully I’ll get to see it at some point, but overall, the 14 shorts I saw (if we’re only counting the competition) were for the most part highly enjoyable and I loved a lot of the styles used.

Hollywood’s biggest night is on Sunday, coming off of an absolute rollercoaster of an award season. We’re only now getting a clear frontrunner with Anora, Emilia Perez has gone from social media pariah to social media pariah that may actually lose now, and multiple nominee surprises have shaken up people’s predictions, including my own. The Substance may end up being the most deranged movie to gain major Oscar attention and/or wins since Everything Everywhere All at Once, and Walter Salles’ incredible drama I’m Still Here beat the odds to gain a Best Picture nomination that, in my opinion, it deserves to win. As always, though, you have likely already heard all this, which is why I like talking about the stuff that you probably haven’t, like the shorts. As is usually the case, there were a lot of good shorts this year, some great, some okay, and at least one where I’m questioning who’s even voting for these. At the very least, I’m highlighting the animated ones.

The animated shorts in particular included an especially disappointing snub with Don Hertzfeldt’s ME, which did make the shortlist but not the nominees, dashing my hopes that the Academy will give him at least one well-deserved Oscar. While I like to say that the animated Oscar shorts are where anything is possible, it was particularly more true this year than last year. Many of the films featured take full advantage of the medium, and even the shorts with the heaviest subject matter convey it in ways that live action simply can’t. Here are the nominees for Best Animated Short film.

Beautiful Men tells the story of three bald brothers who have traveled to Istanbul for a hair transplant. However, a misunderstanding results in only one of them actually getting the opportunity, and it isn’t long before insecurities and conflicts boil to the surface. I typically love watching the Oscar-nominated animated shorts for films like this, and to see them get wider exposure (even if the presence of animated drama for adult audiences still results in the Academy treating it like a disposable medium for kids). This short, however, is severely lacking. The stop-motion animation and puppet designs are great, and there are some amusing moments, but really, there’s not much here. In addition, the ending felt really rushed, as if the filmmakers didn’t know how to conclude the piece. I have heard people predict this short will win (mainly on GoldDerby). Last year, the Academy went for the weakest choice with War is Over!, but at least the politics at the time justified why they would pick it. Here, I really don’t see anything that leads me to believe that this has a chance, and while I support animation like this, I will be disappointed if it wins.

In the Shadow of the Cypress I already covered last year when it played at the Tribeca Film Festival, during which it won the award for Best Animated Short. That win qualified it for this year’s Oscars, where it’s currently nominated. A dialogue-free short from Iran, it’s about a former captain living in a house by the sea, whose PTSD strains his relationship with his daughter. My thoughts on this haven’t changed much since Tribeca. This short does a great job using animation to express difficult themes, and I loved how much surrealism was present. In terms of the five, I’d say that this is definitely one of the better nominees.

Daisuke Nishio has had a notable career in anime, directing a good amount of the Dragon Ball franchise among other things. His short film Magic Candies is an absolute delight and is, in my opinion, a strong frontrunner. The short is about Dong-Dong, a lonely boy who plays with marbles. He goes to buy some new ones, but what he thinks are marbles turn out to be candies. Not just any candies, either. After eating one, the sofa starts talking. Dong-Dong figures out how the candies work and soon gains a new perspective on life. Heartfelt and extremely funny, this was a joy to watch. It’s animated in CGI at a low-frame rate, essentially using 2D anime production techniques in a 3D environment, but what it lacks in fluidity it makes up for with extremely detailed art design. Honestly, I went into this thinking it was stop-motion because the CGI was so good. One of my favorite jokes it this is the use of onscreen text exclamations. While common in anime and manga, the use of it in a 3D setting I found incredibly humorous and inventive. I’d say of the five shorts, this was one of my favorites, and I’d put it as my pick for the winner. Of particular note is the fact that the film qualified for the Oscars for winning the Grand Jury Prize after premiering at the New York International Children’s Film Festival. The festival is one of the best places to watch international and independent animation in New York City, and I hope to cover this year’s festival soon.

I feel like dark takes on children’s’ television is a bit of an overused premise (Pib and Pog is one of my favorite examples), but Wander to Wonder takes it in a direction I genuinely did not expect. In the 1980’s, Wander to Wonder was a beloved kids’ TV staple, in which a friendly live-action host and three friendly stop-motion monsters teach children educational lessons. That is, until the creator and host died an untimely death (we don’t find out how, but whatever happened, nobody has removed his body). Now his three animated co-stars, amusingly revealed to be further stop-motion puppets wearing monster costumes, are alone, running out of food, and making increasingly desperate episodes for an audience that may or may not be there. This is honestly one of the darkest, bleakest animated shorts I’ve seen the Oscars nominate, and as a creative, it really hit me hard. As a mediation on how creations take on lives on their own (or if you just have an overactive imagination and think this) it’s absolutely devastating, even as I’d call some of it darkly comic. I can’t for certain say that this really deserves to win, but it definitely left an impact on me.

Childhood views on romance is the subject of Yuck!, a French short that I know ran quite a bit of the festival circuit. A group of kids view in disgust as they see adults kissing (some claim to have even seen them “doing it”), but it isn’t long before one boy finds himself attracted to a girl, and wanting to kiss himself. I’ve definitely seen this topic explored before, and this was a particularly cute example. I appreciated how the characters’ lips glow when they’re in love. Overall, though, I don’t see this as much of a contender as some of the other ones. It was definitely a fun watch, however.

As for the animated features, this was a particularly strong year. My pick is The Wild Robot, but overall I’d say they’re all worth watching. Even the weakest nominee, Inside Out 2, still had one of the best depictions of mental health issues I’ve seen in animation. There’s been talk that Flow could end up taking home the big prize which, if that were to happen, would be notable in that a low-budget dialogue-free film made in Blender would beat out several other productions with much higher production values. Anyway, we’ll see who ends up winning on Sunday. (Although if they make another crack about these movies being for children the year Memoir of a Snail is nominated, I swear to God…)

The Sundance Film Festival is often the place to find the next great work of cinema, and since the pandemic, they’ve been allowing people at home to watch as well. This year, the festival selected thirteen animated shorts and one feature, Endless Cookie (which I’ll hopefully review at a later date). I unfortunately wasn’t able to watch all of them, as one short, Caries, was not available virtually. However, I did watch the rest, and I thought I’d share my picks of my favorite ones, along with an additional short that made great use of animation as well.

Paradise Man (ii) is honestly less an animated film than an inventive animated collage movie, but it was one of my favorite things I saw in the animated short film program regardless. It’s made almost entirely with repurposed images and GIFs of those white, big-headed, blank, faceless figures you find in stock media, but in the hands of Jordan Michael Blake, these nondescript cartoons take on new emotional resonance. Subtitled “Episode 1: Golf”, the short is an extended monologue by the titular Paradise Man, who initially starts out discussing his pursuit of getting a hole in one before a family tragedy causes him to reflect on his own existence and purpose. With the stock-based format and Paradise Man’s narration being supplied by a slowed-down automated voice, it initially comes across like something you’d find in the early morning on Adult Swim before hitting you with genuine and relatable poignancy. (Sundance also pointed out that Blake had previously been commissioned by Adult Swim to make a segment of their incredible anthology series Off the Air.) The short ends with the promise of a second episode, and I’m hoping Blake makes good on it. You’ll never look at stock graphics the same way again.

Arguably one of the best shorts, and the one that won the Grand Jury Prize for Animated Short Films, was As If the Earth Had Swallowed Them Up (Como si la tierra se las hubiera tragado). It tells of a woman who returns to her home of Mexico City, where she looks back on how, as a young girl, she came to terms with what happens to women in Mexico. The short’s endearing art style gives way to some truly harrowing sequences illustrating its serious subject matter, and I thought it was a great example of how animation can both make dark topics more accessible while at the same time enhancing their impact. It definitely deserved the top prize, which qualifies it for next year’s Oscars.

There were a few other shorts of note that I enjoyed. Hurikán, described as a “deep-fried romance from Prague”, follows the literally pigheaded titular character as he offers to resupply a beer stand where he has a crush on the bartender, only to find himself on the beer run from Hell. Gritty, darkly comic, and with great music, it brings to mind something out of the alternative animation of the 1990s when the film is set. Bunnyhood is a punky short from the UK that feels like a zine comic come to life. In it, Bobby learns that her mother may not always be telling the truth when a promised fast food dinner ends up being a trip to the hospital. The whole short is gleefully surreal and anarchic but not to the extent to where you can’t figure things out. Told in a crude but endearingly handcrafted animation style, this was one of my favorite watches of the selections this year. View from the Floor is a 5 minute piece in which Mindie Lind, a singer without legs, discusses her brief brush with fame, where she discovers that it wasn’t so much about her talent as it was about “inspiration porn.” A thought-provoking and funny take on how disability is perceived in the media, it’s a decent piece in its own. However, the short is actually a proof-of-concept for a feature length animated documentary of the same title, and that’s something I really hope gets off the ground because based on this, I’d love to see more.

Also, while not really an animated short, I nevertheless feel compelled to bring up a title from the documentary short film selections that uses animation in a great way. Three Sundances ago, Joe Hunting’s documentary We Met in Virtual Reality not only introduced me to the world of VRChat, but expanded my idea of what documentaries could be. Now, he’s back with The Reality of Hope, a live-action/machinima documentary short that presents a truly moving story of how fantastical virtual communities can inspire very real impact. Hiyu is a prominent member of VRChat’s Furality community, an organization of furry artists and creators, until his real life unexpectedly intrudes in the worst possible way: his kidneys are failing. Photographotter, another member, agrees to donate his kidney and fly from New York to Stockholm to save Hiyu’s life. Whereas We Met in Virtual Reality was filmed entirely within VRChat, The Reality of Hope alternates between real and virtual environments, reminding us that there are actual people behind the cartoon animals we initially see as our subjects. It’s a touching reminder of the power of community, and a great documentary for the gaming crowd. The use of video game assets in documentaries has been a bit of a trend recently that I have been fascinated with, and I hope it continues, especially if we get more films such as this. I also suspect it’ll be streaming in the near future as Documentary+ was listed as one of the companies involved, so hopefully you’ll get to check it out for yourself.

The other animated selections were Flower Show, Inkwo For When the Starving Return, Luz Diabla, Field Recording, Jesus 2, The Eating of an Orange, and A Round of Applause for Death.

I’ve heard it and thought it several times now: Hollywood plays it too safe. The cost of making movies is so (almost certainly unnecessarily) high now that convention reigns and original or daring works are simply too risky. Unless a filmmaker has enough of a reputation that hearing their name alone will attract audiences, assuming that even holds true anymore (just ask Clint Eastwood), it’s unlikely we’ll see anything new. However, there are occasionally exceptions. If there’s a name that conjures up both beloved films and formal innovation, it’s Robert Zemeckis. While he’s certainly experimented with his last few movies through performance capture animation, his recent work has left a lot to be desired. His latest, Here, promises to be a return to form. Based on Richard McGuire’s acclaimed graphic novel of the same name, itself expanded from a groundbreaking 1989 comic in Raw, it aims to challenge cinematic convention while applying cutting-edge visual effects and telling a story that’s intimate while encompassing the enormity of time and the universal human experience. This is the sort of movie that tries to be unlike anything else, and it was one I was hotly anticipating. Having now seen it, I can tell you that they mostly failed and I’m extremely disappointed.

The story of Here is about a place and the people that inhabit it. The camera stays still but the scenery changes, starting during the age of the dinosaurs, and moving ahead to Native American peoples, colonial times, the 1800s, the entire 20th century, and the early 21st century to the present. A house is built, and a number of key players arrive to inhabit it. There’s an early airplane pilot and his wife and daughter. Then they’re replaced by an inventor and his wife, the former of whom may have stumbled on the perfect invention at the perfect time. However, once they leave, the primary focus of the story begins, as Al (Paul Bettany) and his wife Rose buy the house after World War II and start a family. Later, one of their sons, Richard (Tom Hanks), meets Margaret (Robin Wright), who becomes his girlfriend. He later marries and has a daughter with her, Vanessa. From there, much of the film follows the trials and tribulations of the family throughout the ensuing decades, all against the backdrop of what occurred before them and what will happen after.

First of all, this gimmick isn’t new, and didn’t take long to wear off. Hell, I’d argue that Adult Swim did this better two years ago with their Yule Log special, and that was just because they could. However, I do applaud the effort in translating the comic’s art style to the screen. Essentially, rather than cutting between time periods, windows will show the location as it was in the past or future, much like the original source material, before fading in to the whole frame. This often creates some fun editing opportunities, but many other times it doesn’t work as well as I wanted it to. (Also there’s some really off-putting transitions that appear to be automated.) In addition, the narrative doesn’t live up to the editing flourishes. The story is non-linear, but often jumps around at random, even if to set up a point, and it initially made it hard for me to get invested in the characters as a result. Also, the single perspective occasionally leads to awkward cinematography. Characters will sometimes speak their lines directly into the camera or stand too close to it. It’s like watching a play except instead of seeing it on a theater stage, you’re just standing in a house and the actors are ignoring you as they’re performing.

Once the main story became apparent, I was at the very least engaged. I can’t hate Tom Hanks and Robin Wright in this. Because of the length of time required for the premise, Zemeckis uses real-time de-aging technology to make the two of them look younger, and for the most part, I thought it worked. Yet while I may be a sucker for sentimentality, there’s some decisions in this that feel a bit too on the nose, and at the end of the day, it’s a pretty standard slice-of-life story. While I found it enjoyable in the moment, it was only afterwards when I started thinking about the film that the flaws became clear. Since the story jumps around so much, it’s sometimes difficult to keep track of the timeline. There are clues in the background that let you know the historical vicinity of the events, but other times I was unsure if the main story was even in order. There is a bit of a central conflict, but, without spoiling things too much, portions of the movie even early on flash forward to when the conflict is clearly resolved. On top of that, most of the other characters in this movie aside from the main story are more or less irrelevant outside of the primary theme and gimmick, so there’s not much reason to care about them from a narrative perspective. Despite this, they get a lot of screen time.

While the ending certainly drives the point home and warms one’s heart, it also makes it obvious why I found this movie so disappointing: what is the point of it? Okay, that’s a bit harsh. It’s a slice of life drama about a single location through the enormity of time, mainly focusing on a single family across decades and highlighting major changes, historical recurrences, and human truths. That’s fine. Yet, I don’t think that’s what Zemeckis was going for. As a filmmaker, he’s known for trying to reinvent the wheel visually, having done so with films such as Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Forrest Gump, and it’s obvious why he would be attracted to source material like this. The original comic was experimental with its use of panel art, and he clearly wanted to create something unlike anything anyone has done before. Here’s the problem though: People have done things like this before for thousands of years. It’s called theater. All he did was play around with the editing. As for the real-time de-aging technology, that’s certainly innovative, but it’s not going to carry a film. If you think about it, the story can basically be described as a family living in a house, after other people who lived after other people, before other people still, and in a location that changed massively over thousands of years. That’s certainly a premise with a lot of opportunity for interesting and mind-blowing storytelling, but Zemeckis didn’t seem to do that. However, a comic is different. It doesn’t move. It’s individual pictures that we can stare at for as long as we want, but we expect them to be sequential. Richard McGuire’s Here was actually innovative. It challenges the way we think about comic storytelling, in a way that only comics could do. It just doesn’t translate well enough as a movie.

In the end, Here is a perfectly normal story that really wants to be groundbreaking, as did I, but it simply isn’t. Comic book movies may be all the rage (for now), but some stories should just stay as still art. Incidentally, in the process of writing this review, I discovered a faithful 1991 student film adaptation of the original comic. You can watch it here. It does more in six minutes than Robert Zemeckis did in 104, is actually formally experimental, and drives the point home in the amount of time it takes for the gimmick to wear off.

Spanning decades, the film tells the story of László Toth (Adrian Brody), a Hungarian Jewish architect who escapes a concentration camp and flees to America. After reconnecting with family in Pennsylvania, and awaiting news of his wife’s relocation, he meets the wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), who employs him for a massive project. In just two films, The Childhood of a Leader and Vox Lux, Brady Corbet established himself as a unique filmmaker. He’s also an auteur to a fault, and those movies, while certainly conveying a vision, left me underwhelmed. So I didn’t have high hopes for this movie, especially one of that length. Yet here I am, 4 hours later, as the elements of Corbet’s filmography have finally come together in a way that, for the most part, works.

The Brutalist has some of the best filmmaking of the year. The cinematography is stunning, which is fitting for a movie about art. It alternates between wide vistas and gorgeous landscapes, and more intimate closeup and handheld photography (which is notable for a film shot for such a grand format). The score is similarly incredible. Corbet’s last two movies were scored by Scott Walker, who has since unfortunately passed, but the composer for this movie, Daniel Blumberg, has proven himself more than up to the task of filling Walker’s shoes. Corbet supposedly made this movie on a small budget (reportedly under $10 million), and you wouldn’t know it from what you’re seeing onscreen.

Adrian Brody does a great job as Toth. Without giving too much away, he has a notable transformation as the film goes on, and it’s handled very well. He conveys both the resilience and the pain of being an outsider in America. (Brody said during the Q&A that he channeled his own parents’ experiences as both refugees and artists in the role.) The rest of the cast does a great job too. However, the real standout is Guy Pearce as Van Buren, easily one of the best supporting performances of this year. Playing a titan of industry, Pearce is charismatic yet intimidating, giving a grand portrayal that contains all of the worst impulses of those in power.

This is an epic, and what would a film like this be without some truly big ideas? I went into this expecting a sweeping look at the immigrant experience, and for the most part, that’s exactly what I got. Throughout the film, there’s a palpable sense of otherness for Brody’s Toth. Not just being a Hungarian in America, but a Jew in a predominately Christian country. The film’s portrayal of identity is powerful. Toth and his ideas aren’t just foreign to the elite he engages with, but objects of fascination that they, especially Van Buren, seek to exploit. The movie is also a portrait of industry in Pennsylvania and America at the time, supplemented by era-appropriate footage of educational films. It’s a very long film, but I did think the runtime was used well.

However, I did have some issues near the end of the film. The central themes and metaphors come to a head with a brutal moment that, without spoiling anything felt a bit too on the nose, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. I also thought that they could’ve done a better job sticking the landing. I plan on seeing this movie again when it comes out, and maybe I’ll have a different opinion of it. There’s a lot here, after all. A towering and deeply personal achievement, The Brutalist deserves to be seen on the big screen in a huge theater. While I didn’t think this was the best movie of the year, it is absolutely the biggest surprise of the year for me, and I’m definitely excited to see what Corbet does next. The movie comes out in theaters on December 20th.

The New York Film Festival, easily one of the city’s most prestigious film events, returned to Lincoln Center (as well as various other venues) last weekend for its 62nd edition. Unlike the Tribeca Festival, and other established film festivals like Sundance and Cannes (and especially Fall festivals like Venice and Toronto), the NYFF is not so much a place to premiere movies as it is a place to celebrate them. The festival’s feature film lineup is invitation-only, and contains some of the most anticipated movies from both the mainstream and the art house. In short, it’s a good chunk of awards season in about two and a half weeks. After a strike-addled edition last year, Hollywood’s A-list are heavily present for the festival once again. Yet, a big reason to attend the festival is to get the rare opportunity to see a lot of directors and actors from around the world (47 countries are reportedly represented in the lineup). Some of the year’s best movies are playing here, so I’m gonna try and talk about as many as I can, starting with probably the hottest ticket at this year’s festival.

If you don’t know the name Sean Baker, that may be about to change. He’s gotten a lot of love for his films, usually gritty comedy-dramas that spotlight marginalized communities. I first heard of him for Tangerine, his movie about transgender sex workers of color shot on an iPhone. From there he made The Florida Project, which earned massive acclaim and earned Willem Dafoe an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor, as well as Red Rocket in 2021, which also recieved highly positive reviews. Well, I have to make a confession: I’m not the biggest fan of Sean Baker’s work, which makes me a minority in the art film community. Of course, I knew what was coming. Baker’s latest, Anora, is perhaps the most anticipated independent film this year. It won the Palme D’Or at Cannes and is a major awards season frontrunner. Given my attitude towards his last three movies, I knew it was touch and go on whether or not I’d enjoy this, so I’m just going to skip to the verdict right now.

Believe the hype. Anora really is that good.

Anora is a 23-year-old stripper in Brighton Beach who is assigned to a young man named Ivan because she speaks Russian. Ivan starts hiring her as an escort, during which Anora learns he’s the son of a Russian oligarch. It isn’t long before the two fall in love, and not even much longer than that when, partially because of romance and partially because Ivan has to go back to Russia, the two decide to get married so he’ll become an American citizen. Anora thinks she’s found the man of her dreams and struck it rich as a bonus….and then Ivan’s parents find out.

You are not ready for Anora. Baker’s films have always had an often darkly comic audacity to them, from frequent physical fights to things being set on fire, but this is easily his wildest movie to date. The initial feeling that this is an extremely graphic and profane version of a screwball comedy comes to a head in the film’s extended centerpiece sequence, which ranks among the year’s most accomplished, intense, and insane movie moments. To go any further would be criminal, but suffice it to say, it’s a heck of a ride.

It’s easily the funniest movie of Baker’s filmography. It isn’t all funny, though. You really feel for Anora throughout the movie, and there’s some utterly heartwrenching moments in this. It’s a very good script that combines riotous dialogue with a moving story about love, sex, money, and power. Sex work is a common topic in Baker’s films, but of all the movies he’s done, this is probably the most effective I’ve felt he’s been in conveying his themes. Mikey Madison gives an incredible performance as Anora, and at several moments during the movie, the audience burst into applause for her. That said, everyone in the cast does a great job in this. A lot of the humor in this movie comes from the characters playing off of one another (often loudly and with several four-letter words attached).

It all leads to up to an ending that will probably lead to as much discussion and interpretation as it will stay in your mind for quite a while. Combining anarchic, audacious comedy with heartfelt drama, Anora exceeded my expectations. Be sure to catch this one when it hits theaters on October 18th.

Sing Sing is the kind of movie one expects to be brutal going in. I did at times, and to an extent, it is. It’s also a film that aims to upend expectations. There’s no violence and the roughest thing about it is the language. Yet it is brutal, in the most raw and personal ways possible. It is also a beautiful and often hilarious film that might even leave you looking at the world in a different way. Sing Sing is a movie set in a maximum security prison, but it is not a prison drama. There are inmates, but it is not a movie about criminals. Sing Sing is a movie about art, its power, and its joy.

The film is based on the true story of John “Divine G” Whitfield (Colman Domingo), an inmate at Sing Sing who started a theater program to help other inmates process their emotions. After the group accepts their latest member, Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, he suggests they do a comedy instead of another drama (as prison life has enough drama as it is). The actual play they end up writing is so hilariously insane that I honestly don’t want to reveal it here. Even as the troupe prepares to make the audience laugh and spirits are high, Divine G is hoping to get out. He’s trying to prove his innocence, and may have actually found a way to do so.

Shot on grainy, dusty 16mm film with often handheld cameras, and with incredibly naturalistic performances, the movie often comes across as an uncovered documentary on the theater program itself. This also extends to the casting. Despite the presence of professional actors in the cast, such as Domingo and Paul Raci, the bulk of the inmates in the film are actually playing themselves from when they were incarcerated. This includes Divine Eye, who stands out with a revelatory performance that I feel a more established actor just couldn’t give. Not only does he convey an authentic sense of pain about prison life, but he’s also extremely funny. That said, one of the best things about this movie is Colman Domingo, who gives a performance that is both endearing and heartwrenching, though mainly for reasons I’d rather not spoil and leave you to discover on your own.

As mentioned, this film subverts a lot of expectations, from gut-punch moments to seemingly easy drama that, in a more conventional prison movie would be obvious, but doesn’t end up happening. It shouldn’t happen, either, because that’s not the point. Rather than enforce the cinematic status quo or even be regressive with its subject matter, it aims to present a way forward. It’s a point made clear early in the film itself, when Divine G confronts Divine Eye about the fact he has a knife hidden on him. To Divine G, this program is all these inmates have and it doesn’t take much to tear it all down. It’s a film that reminds us that, despite where they are, these are still people. In fact, most of them are real people, and real people can change for the better.

I thought I would enjoy Sing Sing, but this actually exceeded my expectations. It’s an incredible work of filmmaking and one of the best movies I’ve seen in recent memory. It’s both incredibly funny and incredibly sad, while touching upon a topic that I feel should get more attention. It’s a testament to the healing power of art that also confronts how we view those who society has seemingly thrown away. I wouldn’t be surprised if this becomes a sleeper awards contender, and if it does, it absolutely deserves it.

With a title like How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies, you’d probably expect this to be a dark comedy or a drama with enough gallows humor to laugh before you lightly dab your tears by the end. However, I had heard the stories about this film going into this. Weepy out-of-theater TikToks. Ushers handing out tissues. Even the person introducing my screening warned us “If you don’t have a tissue, you’re gonna have an issue.” Sure enough, what starts out seemingly innocent becomes an emotional sledgehammer that’ll have more than a few viewers turning on the waterworks. It’s worth it though, because this is one of the best movies of the year so far. After topping the Thai box office and breaking records in Southeast Asia, I was one of the first Americans to see this film for myself, and now I want to spread the word.

M, a slacker from a dysfunctional family, believes he’s just one gaming livestream away from never having to work a day in his life (despite his viewership saying otherwise). One night, his mother drops some devastating news to him: his grandmother has Stage 4 cancer and likely only has a year left. When his grandfather dies soon after, he decides to become his grandma’s caregiver. Not because he’s suddenly realized the gravity of the situation, mind you, but because his cousin was the caregiver for his grandpa and she inherited his house. All he has to do is win his grandma’s favor over the rest of his family and he’ll be set for the foreseeable future. Of course, that ends up being far more work than he imagined…

While Putthipong “Billkin” Assaratanakul is an established star in Thailand and does a great job as M, the real breakout star is Usha Seamkhum as the grandmother. Tough yet caring, in opposition to M’s laziness and apathy, the two play off each other extremely well. This made it especially shocking when I learned that not only was she not a professional actor, but actually pulled off the most intense moments in the film often in one take (though everything else apparently required up to 20). Even with the subject matter, this is still a very funny film, and probably the hardest I’ve laughed at a movie in a while.

However, while the laughs are plentiful, the drama is absolutely devastating. I’ve seen a lot of movies like this that tackle this subject with a light touch that’s funny and sad. This is not one of those movies. What everybody said about this film was true. As much as you’ll be laughing at it, you’ll be crying just as hard. It’s extremely impressive that this was a first-time filmmaking effort for director Pat Boonnitipat (after a career in television), because it feels so raw and real. While it certainly hits some of the standard notes for a story like this, though extremely well, what shocked me was how many parts of the story I didn’t expect. For example, a conversation between the grandmother and her brother ends up being an absolute gut-punch that made me look at her, and the story, in a whole new light.

As someone who’s had similar, if not worse experiences with their own grandparents, the theme of how we treat our elders in their final moments really resonated with me hard. I typically wait longer to say things like this, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this becomes a major contender in the Oscars this year, as the film’s quality and publicity make it a likely choice for Thailand’s submission for Best International Feature Film. As of this writing, the film does not have US distribution yet, so I want to spread the word as much as possible. It also won the audience award at the festival, so that should help raise its profile here even more. With strong character development, incredible performances, laugh-out-loud dialogue and drama that’s heartwrenching but nevertheless engaging, How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies deserves being named the top film of the New York Asian Film Festival 2024, and I hope you all get to see it soon.

Sean Wang’s first feature, Dìdi, not only won two awards at Sundance including the audience award, but also premiered right when he was nominated for an Oscar for his documentary short Nai Nai & Wài Pó. As I said at the time, while he didn’t win, he was still one of the biggest contenders for his short, a hilarious and heartfelt look at facing old age with dignity. For a feature debut, that’s certainly the kind of publicity money can’t buy, and thankfully, it doesn’t disappoint. A brutally frank yet compelling look at identity and the horrors of teenage life, Dìdi is a top-notch example of a coming of age story.

In 2008, 13-year-old Tawainese-American Chris Wang is referred to by his mother and grandmother as Dìdi (“little brother” in Chinese), and “Wang Wang” by his circle of friends. His older sister is finally going off to college, which means he won’t be fighting with her anymore. It’s the summer before high school begins and Chris is doing what kids his age do: making YouTube videos where people’s mailboxes get blown up, hanging out with friends, and trying to get the attention of the girl he has a crush on. However, it isn’t long before his social life begins hitting a few snags, and Chris desperately tries to find a way to fit in, learning more than a few life lessons in the process.

Dìdi is, for the most part, a standard coming of age story, but it’s a rough one. I remember my screenwriting professor once called Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade a horror film for its unflinching look at the modern experience of growing up in middle school, and that kind of movie is definitely an inspiration here. Sean doesn’t tone down the edgy cringe of mid-2000s youth in the slightest, and while those who can relate may be laughing, it’ll likely be through closed eyes. Yet while a lot of it’s played for laughs, it’s when it’s not that the film really becomes effective. There’s some devastating moments in this movie that really capture the feeling of adolescent alienation.

That said, what really elevates this movie above others like it is the film’s commentary on identity. Despite his efforts to fit in, Chris gets constant reminders of a sense of otherness, some playful, some definitely less so. Chris’ family life is also given a sense of depth, as his mother, an artist struggling to achieve recognition, feels pressured by the achievements of her friends’ kids, as well her own mother (who is Sean Wang’s actual grandmother, as seen in Nai Nai & Wài Pó). Characters that feel like they’re archetypes eventually change as the story goes on. It’s a movie that uses tropes while surpassing them, in a way that makes it feel fresh.

The movie is set in 2008, but doesn’t indulge in it. It’s not a nostalgia piece, but one that tells it like it was Sure, there are references to shock sites from the era and plenty of MySpace pages, but it feels natural. A lot of the story is told through the characters’ screens: YouTube videos, AOL messenger chats, and social media, and it’s utilized in a way that makes it feel part of the story as opposed to just watching someone’s monitor (more Searching than Unfriended).

Sean Wang isn’t interested in sugarcoating anything, and without giving anything away, I respected the film’s ending. Being a teenager can be hell, and Dìdi combines that knowledge with a story of the immigrant experience that puts it above a lot of coming-of-age movies. It’s a film that feels personal yet accessible. Just be prepared to cringe. A lot.

My look at the hidden gems at the Oscars continues with the live action short films: like most of the nominees, only shorter. There’s an obvious frontrunner this year that’s substantially bigger than the other nominees, so I feel it’s even more important to talk about the other films (although I feel some might be possible competition).

The After features David Oyelowo as a man left shattered after the death of his wife and daughter in a brutal attack one year prior. As an Uber driver, his encounters with passengers lead him to confront his grief. David does a great job, but this was by far one of the weakest shorts this year, and I mean that in general. It isn’t much other than depressing, and the ending felt extremely hollow.

Red, White and Blue features a great Brittany Snow in a hot-button short that honestly feels like a feature in miniature. Single parent Rachel needs to find an abortion clinic, but unfortunately lives in Arkansas. Unable to support another kid, she is forced to hit the road towards a state where it’s legal. As mentioned, it has the makings of a feature film shrunk down to 23 minutes, but it’s good as is. I’m going to keep this one brief in case any readers see this short, because the ending will make your jaw hit the floor. If the premise didn’t already convince you, this is an absolute emotional gut-punch of a short.

Knight of Fortune is another look at grief, only this one is unexpectedly funny. A darkly comic drama from Denmark, it focuses on Karl, who has just lost his wife but is unable to face seeing her at the morgue. Then, Karl meets Torben, who has also lost his wife and who he finds a connection with. Torben helps Karl process his grief—under unusual circumstances. Again, this short is way funnier than you might expect, peppered with gallows humor and a reveal that’ll bring cringe laughs before touching your heart. This one was a surprise in what was a pretty downbeat lineup of shorts this year.

Invincible is a Canadian short that was one of my favorites of the lineup. A personal story based on true events, it follows Marc-Antoine Bernier, a 14-year-old trying to get out of a juvenile detention center, in his last 48 hours of life. (That isn’t a spoiler, as the film opens with his death.) Marc’s troubled, rebellious behavior is at odds with his genuine desire for freedom, even as he’s told that only being officially released will make him truly free. I’m admittedly drawn to stories like this, so my opinion might be a bit biased. Nevertheless, the performances are great across the board, especially Léokim Beaumier-Lépine as Marc. Notably, the director was friends with the real Marc, and felt compelled to make this short to understand the tragedy. If there’s any short that I feel might be able to beat the next one, it’s Invincible.

Finally, my pick for the live action shorts is definitely the most notable short nominated overall. Last summer, Wes Anderson released his latest feature Asteroid City, which may have sounded like an Oscar hopeful but ultimately left a lot to be desired. However, he still made it to the nominations with The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, his adaptation of Roald Dahl’s short story of the same name and one of four short films he made for Netflix based on Dahl’s stories last year. It’s obvious that Anderson has a major advantage here, with major name recognition, an all-star cast, and production values that more independent shorts couldn’t compete with. That said, it’s still the best short of the five. First of all, while Anderson has adapted Dahl before with Fantastic Mr. Fox, this film takes a more unconventional approach by having the characters effectively read the text almost as-is, even the third-person portions. This isn’t surprising given that the story as written is perfect for Anderson, with a narrator and two layers of nested stories built in, both among his directorial trademarks. (Ralph Fiennes plays Roald Dahl, who serves as the main narrator.) The production and staging are absolutely outstanding, but not at the expense of the overall quality. Finally, the short is just a blast to watch. The screening of the live action shorts I saw put this at the very end, and it’s easy to see why. With the other nominees dealing with such heavy subject matter, this one definitely stood out for just how fun it was, both for the audience, and seemingly for the people making it as well. I feel like Wes has been overdue for an Oscar for quite some time now (the closest he’s come was four technical Oscars for The Grand Budapest Hotel, but never beyond that), and if this finally earns him one, it’s well-deserved.

Overall, this was a decent batch of shorts, with one standout, one dud, and some good ones in-between. Stay tuned for more of my coverage of this year’s Oscars.