Best Actor 2022: Paul Mescal in Aftersun

Paul Mescal received his first Oscar nomination for portraying Calum Paterson in Aftersun. 

Aftersun is a collection of memories of a woman Sophie as she recounts a holiday with her father when she was a young girl (Frankie Corio).

Paul Mescal defied most odds in his nomination, receiving few precursors, being an extremely young nominee for the category (only 26), being fifth among first-time nominees, and being mostly unknown to US audiences. His performance further defied the odds because lowkey doesn't even quite put it right in terms of his work against any of the other nominated performances or against the types of performances that are typically Oscar-nominated in general. Aftersun takes that one step beyond however because this isn't even a low-key performance that we become close to in the way say Steven Yeun was in Minari, the film purposefully often frames Mescal in a very particular, unusual way, akin, though thankfully not to this extreme, to the way Tom Courtenay was presented in 45 Years. The character of Calum is often viewed through alternative perspectives of the little girl looking at her dad in various sorts of slightly obscured images akin to imperfect memory. Mescal's work in turn offers a very different sort of Oscar-nominated turn where he is so often far off the frame in his own film, and also presents him with quite a challenge as a performer, as he must be present while being so often obscured. 

Paul Mescal might seem in itself strange casting as the dad of a girl who is over ten, however, while the character is slightly older than Mescal, part of the alluded idea is a man who was probably far too young to be a father needing to take up such a role. Mescal's performance early on seems almost perfunctory, which isn't a criticism by the way, but rather the initial presentation of Calum as the dad as he joins his daughter on their vacation. The initial moment of seeing their tour guide stumble a bit through her presentation, which Calum impersonates in a lighthearted bit which Mescal delivers well as very functionally as his dad trying to urge his daughter along towards the theoretical perspective of their time together. The time goes off slightly wrong initially as their hotel is poorly staffed and the two end up with the wrong room. Mescal again is strictly naturalistic and I think in a way that does require a bit more that needs to be said. In a very vapid exploration of the film you may just see even the moment of Calum lounging around the room after he puts his daughter to bed, however, the key is what he explores even with so little at his disposal in terms of what he is to convey. His manner and his physical performance, his picking at his cast, and even his manner of smoking, there is a sense of more than a bit of frustration. Frustration that Mescal doesn't always directly portray, particularly early on, but to say that Calum is perfectly comfortable is bluntly false. 

Mescal's performance is most often between the lines. There is the basic line of the dad trying to be the dad, which Mescal delivers in a very subtle way in terms of not quite being what he says he is. We do just see him and Sophie in different circumstances, some playful such as literally playing around the pool, playing billard, or slightly educational as he struggles to get her to take a self-defense practice seriously. The chemistry between himself and Corio here is key in that there is warmth, but it is also imperfect. Mescal's manner is rather remarkable because he manages to be just not quite right in his performance. He shows a man very much putting on the role of the father, and while it isn't false, it isn't quite true either. There is just the slightest shade in the most basic scenes that Calum isn't fully comfortable being the dad, even as he's trying to be the dad. Mescal doesn't play him as a failure in this, but he also doesn't present him as a success. He rather grants an almost subconscious degree of weakness within the man's fathering. There is nothing that causes one to say "he's a bad dad" or "there's something wrong", however, there is something missing to it all that Mescal so naturally delivers in his performance in the most minute way possible. 

Mescal's moments between the lines let out just a little more to what there is in terms of what is going on with Calum below the immediate surface of trying to be a dad. In the earliest scenes these are flashes, yet rather brilliantly performed because they are potent in a moment even if that isn't the focus. That is again we see Calum very much trying to do his best with Sophie, however in for example a moment of waiting to go snorkeling, there is a moment of tremendous anxiety that flashes across Calum's face. There is something more terrible going on, and we see him essentially trying to hide from Sophie as the two are together. Another moment a bit later on reveals a bit more as Sophie asks Calum what he wished he could've been when he grew up. Although all Calum says is to put the camera away, Mescal's delivery is hiding so much personal anguish in those words. His face fitted with just the slight annoyance of a dad no longer playing around. Mescal has so much more though just deeper than that, Mescal implying what is within the man who is trying to hide it, yet clearly, a man who in no way is experiencing what he would've wanted at this point in his life. There's so much pain within him just beyond that surface that Mescal is able to convey without conveying it almost, but hinting at just enough that is there. 

Although the film isn't traditionally hitting moments beat per beat, what we see in the two's chemistry is a particularly pointed decay of a relationship. The two again do have enough of the father-daughter connection. Mescal shows the father trying to bring the joy he wants to bring to his daughter, Corio portraying how she is enjoying much of it, however, so much of it has those hints of something less than that. They're not completely connected and each shows this slight effort that is just enough to indicate the imperfection of their relationship even as at the moment they are trying to present to each other a kind of ideal. One of the big breaks is in this when Sophie sings karaoke, after Calum refused to attempt to sing with her, where Sophie does not particularly sing well either. Mescal's delivery of Calum suggesting that she could get singing lessons is with the overtures of the supportive dad, a bit of a smile, and everything else. There isn't quite a conviction in the statement and the sense of the critique can be felt even as it is technically well-intentioned. Sophie instead rejects the notion and calls it on him given it isn't something he could afford for her. A fantastic moment for Corio as showing sort of the sudden fall of the facade the daughter had been putting on. Mescal's reaction again is very very small, but enough in showing the break in his eyes in sort of sensing that anything he might be putting on isn't entirely working as much as he was trying. And from that, we see more of what is in the man, who is defined by frustration and sadness, that Mescal reveals basically as the truth of what's behind all of Calum. A deeply depressed man is likely considering suicide. That isn't bluntly said, however, Mescal powerfully embodies just this state in such a brilliantly performed fashion. As Mescal never exactly breaks beyond a certain barrier, he shows a man almost hiding all this in him most of the time, except for those relatively brief moments that have such an impact because they feel like such natural revelations. 

They feel like natural revelations though because Mescal's work manages to embody all of that within him, even as he is trying very hard to keep it all in. The moment we see Calum just weeping nearly controllably by himself, it doesn't feel like some sudden break, rather Mescal's painful depiction of that sorrow is just who the man is. Even when we see Calum returning to being the father, apologizing to Sophie for the earlier tension with a brighter more "dad" voice, and trying to talk to her as a dad again. Mescal's comforting words, as much as the attempt is more than decent, it isn't totally fake, but it also isn't entirely convincing either. Mescal is able to present a man suffering in broad daylight. It is always a lie when he's trying to engage with his daughter as the fun or caring dad, it isn't a lie, however, that being all there is to it, is a lie.  Take my choice in the screen capture, which is one of the few traditional close-ups that Mescal gets in the film, and it isn't one that he wastes. In just a single frame you can see the smile of a man that the smile is in genuine love with his daughter, but also in that smile, there are his eyes that are filled with a great deal of anguish that penetrates his living state at nearly all times. Nearly I write because the sort of emotional climax scene is a mix of the adult Sophie's remembrance and the past Sophie of watching Calum dance to "Under Pressure". Notable for Mescal because it is one scene where you can feel as though he is purely the dad for a few minutes in his goofy dad dance and just fully embracing the moment with his daughter and as this moment of joy, that eventually scars the adult Sophie because it is likely a final moment of joy between them that she can clearly remember. Paul Mescal delivers a heartbreaking portrait of really two faces of the man trying to be his best self for his daughter while suffering deeply inside from all his insecurities and personal desperation. It is a performance that largely exists in the margins, yet it is never lost in the margins, and I will this time credit the acting branch for once, for recognizing this modest yet oh so potent work. 

Best Actor 2022: Austin Butler in Elvis

Austin Butler received his first Oscar nomination for portraying Elvis Presley in Elvis. 

Elvis tells the story of the king of Rock and Roll through the eyes of Elvis's nefarious manager Blofeld...I mean Colonel Tom Parker (Tom Hanks). 

Austin Butler joins the long-running list of Oscar-nominated performers playing famous musicians, a list that is filled with many uninteresting biopics that often (often deservedly) are mocked as easy academy catnip yet rather perfunctory efforts for most viewers. This sometimes extends to the often lip-synching performances by the leads, which extends as far back as at least as far back as when Cornel Wilde played Frederic Chopin. This film on the former end is mostly that, though filled through the madness of director Baz Luhrmann's style (something I wish I could love, but mostly gives me a headache), which given how tired these films are, I might've disliked less than I usually do. The other bit of strangeness is through the perspective of the Colonel pleading his case to the audience that he didn't cause Elvis's downfall, something I might've liked more if Tom Hanks wasn't so obnoxiously hammy (he could've been hammy still given the film's heightened tone just not obnoxiously hammy). This perspective does make Elvis a strange leading character in the first act or so of the film, as he takes quite a long time to appear beyond just glimpses as the colonel attempts to chase him down, and even in his first appearances, Elvis is purposefully seen as a distant figure, with the emphasis more so on his impact than in offering a more internalized perspective. The up-and-coming Austin Butler initially appears just as the idea of Elvis, and his work is almost entirely based upon a few scant words and his physical movements. Of course in a larger-than-life figure such as Elvis, that is a task in itself. And I'll say Butler is bluntly up to the task, even with the at times very overdone makeup, even beyond intention I think. His vocal performance, which apparently permanently transformed Butler's voice to that of Elvis's, is downright impressive. Elvis's voice is something that is very often impersonated and is often that of an impression. It would be very easy to become a caricature, however, Butler's vocal work does go beyond that. Butler's voice feels like Elvis's voice and doesn't feel like a put-on, which with someone like Elvis isn't a small feat in itself. 

The physical movements of Elvis are of course as iconic as anything else about him, so again, Butler does have a challenge, because again while frequently impersonated in this regard, it is something else to embody this in a convincing sense. And Butler seeks to fully capture Elvis's stage persona, in almost every aspect. This includes the way he just holds his head, to every different dance move and gyration, his grander movements as really this king stage so often that plays to the crowd, emotes within the song and just sells the energy of every song far beyond what is expected from any performer. Butler again is absolutely convincing in every step of this, literal and otherwise. He does embody that presence so potently without again feeling the parody, he feels like we are seeing Elvis with the sheer power of his work here. It is remarkable and shouldn't be handwaved because of how much he makes it a given throughout the film. The one facet that Butler does not do is consistently sing as Elvis, though there is a bit of it, and Butler does a more than fine job if perhaps his vocals aren't as powerful as Elvis's (hence the dubbing), though seems like if they had just let him sing Butler would've been up to the task. As Butler really is everything he needs to be as this image of Elvis without question. He has that down, and I would say goes far beyond other similar performances that feel far more like impressions. Butler realizes the icon, as a icon, but he also is convincing just as a performer who came to be an icon. It is striking work that in no way seems ever less than he should be, and dances around any of the pitfalls that are so common with these sorts of performances. 

But all that stage persona stuff can only amount to so much, as good as it might be if it all falls apart when he's off-stage. In a way, despite not being documented in the same way, Butler has to deliver a greater truth, when the film finally settles down enough to give Elvis a more in-person focus. And here is where I will again praise Butler, and again his evocation of Elvis truly is notable because he is as convincing when he is Elvis off stage. His manner is similar but less performative. However less performative in the right way. He still sounds like Elvis, and still has the manner of the man, but he's not playing for anyone, he's just being himself. Butler is convincing as Elvis the man, who is presented with largely a positive depiction of the man, however, working even within that context though Butler grants humanity that has greater depth alluded to even if not always explored. Butler in many ways succeeds because he does two things. When we see Elvis emote, it feels like Elvis emoting, but it also feels like a person emoting. He makes the essential jump to allow us to just believe him as Elvis, which on its own is quite an achievement. And again the emotions of many of these scenes are relatively simple, disappointment with his career at times, heartbreak over the death of his mother, and eventual romance with Priscilla. Butler brings the passion of the man towards music as sincerity. He brings a simple boy's sadness in the death of his mother and with Priscilla (Olivia DeJonge) just a lower key charm that is the stage Elvis however more modest, more genuine. Again while I don't think this is exactly exploring the deepest truths of Elvis, Butler is absolutely convincing in realizing what the film lets him present. 

As per usual the biopic trudges along a bit as we see Elvis fall into personal anguish as the aimless artist, although we get this note twice over. And where Butler continues to excel even when the film gets a bit baggy in comparison. Butler's physical performance continues to be quite remarkable because he successfully transitions through each of Elvis's stages, which are all kind of iconic in their own way. That is he does become more restrained, though more passioned in some ways, with greater maturity in the man's voice, as Butler does really two impressions and both are convincing. Even the overweight Elvis late in the film, Butler modifies his work again to give that larger-than-life presence that has as much passion but is suffering far more from the literal and metaphorical weight of his life. We of course get some perfunctory biopic moments, such as the man pushing back his state of malaise to make a statement in his comeback special. Again while I don't think these scenes really are of too much note, Butler's performance combines a sense of frustration of standing still and the ferocity of finally releasing his passion more directly in his comeback song. Butler's portrayal of the slow demise of the man is well done. Just shows the man physically becoming so much less, everything including his charm and passion reducing in his eyes, with a greater frustration towards the duplicitous Colonel. Although the scenes are a little repetitive, Butler continues to thrive in bringing to life every phase of the man's life even the most painful, which the film treats with sort of a gentle pain in that it never gets as raw as it could in that regard. I suppose that is where my praise is limited in that the film never let's Butler go past a certain point, which is unfortunate, however still notable what Butler does even in the confines of the role. It is a challenge not to be a parody, it a challenge not to be underwhelming when portraying such a iconic pop culture figure, it is challenge not to seem too distant. Butler avoids all of that, he's convincing in bringing Elvis to life as the iconic star, but he's also convincing in bringing to Elvis to life as a man. Although I certainly think a greater film could've been made out of Elvis the man, I couldn't think of a better man to portray him than Butler based on his very strong performance here. 

Best Actor 2022: Bill Nighy in Living

 Bill Nighy received his first Oscar nomination for portraying Mr. Williams in Living. 

Living, a remake of Ikiru, follows a bureaucrat as he discovers he has less than a year to live. 

To speak of this performance, of course, spoilers for the entirety of this and Ikiru, though both are films about the journey. I will say it is with a bit of excitement when a noted character actor gets a leading role, particularly a leading role of note, and the idea of the delightfully idiosyncratic Bill Nighy taking over the leading role of the terminally ill bureaucrat did create some anticipation for this film. Nighy being a character actor though I think grants a unique sort of approach within how we enter the story in this version, as if you were to come into the film blind, you might think the film is about the young bureaucrat Mr. Wakeling (Alex Sharp), entering into the world of bureaucracy with how the film opens with his meeting of the other more seasoned bureaucrats at the train station and joining them in conversation on their way to work. Nighy only appears when the men mention seeing their superior Mr. Williams also getting on the train, though never sitting with them, and Nighy's introduction is of note in presentation, however, Nighy's first scene isn't in a way of note. The man seems pre-emptively tired and just almost statuesque as he waits for his train with little interest, rather just procedure. In the county office itself, where we also meet the sprightly Miss Harris (Aimee Lou Wood), Nighy's performance continues as potentially not even the lead. He is off the side of the desk just attending to his duties as the bureaucrat. Nighy's whole demeanor may be of a bit player in a different film as he is hunched over his desk as though looking out from over it for long would be difficult. His eyes nearly always closed off looking just at what particular document as though he is constantly in the process of reading the most boring of novels. His speaking voice, much like in Takashi Shimura's original turn, is a masterful bit of instantly establishing character. In this case, Nighy willfully rids himself of his usual unmistakable and off-beat charisma as a performer in service of giving an immediate sense of who Mr. Williams is when he speaks. Nighy's initial delivery, of just pushing off a request for a children's park, is with nearly a whisper of a voice. A droning voice of a man who makes no bother of himself or anything else. It is hard to tell if there is much life in him at all, as Nighy puts as little energy as possible which so perfectly emphasizes Mr. Williams as a person who goes about his duties more so a barely responding corpse rather than a man. 

Nighy subverts the typical protagonist in that Mr. Williams could easily be a background character of no importance in most films, and in most films, we would just forget about this boring man behind the counter who puts little effort into his job or seemingly his life. That makes it all the more remarkable that Mr. Williams is indeed who we are following, and whom we process this story through. A major change in this version is in the original the Japanese bureaucrat is lied to about his prognosis and learns about his true diagnosis of terminal cancer through chance which despite its seeming humanity purposes seems crueler, here the man is told directly of his prognosis. Nighy barely gives a reaction, beyond the faintest glint in his eyes of the man taking it in, that to me in some way evoked the most minimalistic emotions as conveyed by Anthony Hopkins's work in The Remains of Day (which its source novel was written by this film's screenwriter Kazuo Ishiguro). A small reaction befitting a man who really has felt nothing for so long. The subtle brilliance of Nighy's work is especially shown in the following scene where Mr. Williams sits silently at home contemplating his life including the failures of his life including the loss of his wife and the imperfect relationship with his son. Like Ikiru, this is a moment that is painful to watch as Nighy essentially looks upon the memories with this particularly palatable sense of defeat to every moment. In isn't all that is there in these glances. There's a moment of attempted nostalgia, that turns to this despair, which makes this despair all the more torturous as Nighy presents a man who cannot even rely on what he has done for his life for any comfort. When his son and the son's wife return home, Mr. Williams tells them nothing, and Nighy earns this choice in his performance by bluntly presenting a man who has just had nothing. Nighy's work is vacant in this way in that he shows a man who cannot attach himself to anything that would provide a man who had lived a better life at this moment, Nighy shows the man reaching out yet failing. In turn, Nighy shows this troubled husk who is almost transparent even when contemplating death. 

Now if one were to go back and read my review of Shimura, it would appear to be that I am hitting some similar points, however, if I'm comparing Nighy favorably, that must only be seen as the highest compliment. However, this is a very different performance via the change in the setting and this is dealing with death as an English bureaucrat rather than a Japanese bureaucrat. Where we see this divergence particularly as Mr. Williams approaches a salacious Novelist (Tom Burke), for help to "live" before his death. What Nighy excels with here is bringing this proper English manner to what should be an extremely emotional situation. As Nighy delivers his initial request to speak to the man, mentions his upcoming demise, noting a potential thought of suicide, all with this proper reserve. This is not a critique, but rather a praise, as Nighy in this shows the strange sort of way Mr. Williams is maintaining himself as a proper gentleman even as his world has been shattered. Nighy's performances often have a comical nature to them in some regard, even Davy Jones, and we get that here in a way that feels wholly natural to the character and only amplifies the film. There as there is something funny in the way Nighy brings up all these traumatic thoughts with the same quiet calm, as per fitting a stiff upper lip, but shows it as a man almost struggling with a certain awareness of the act. When Mr. Williams continues to show his savings to "live" with, which the Novelist asks him politely to properly hide, Nighy presents a man attempting though kind of failing to make this request to get this man to show him how to live. Again it is a little silly, yet wholly convincing, while also being very sad as Nighy brings an awkwardness to the moment as he shows a visible effort in the man attempting to force himself to be more than what he has been in this moment. Nighy manages to be amusing in this unorthodox way, however, that only reveals more the desperation in Williams to try to break his reserve on life while also failing to do so. 

The novelist nonetheless attempts to show this man late in life a good time, at least in the way the novelist would see it, that is going to bars, gambling, and seeing a striptease. Nighy's performance in this scene is Mr. Williams attempting to do this but not quite being able to figure it out in a way. At each different place, Nighy brings a sense of discovery, however not as a man learning something new but rather kind of a child lost in a forest that is in some ways scary. There is a pressure within Nighy's expression of someone trying hard to figure this out, to find joy in it, but can't quite seem to grasp it in the right way. He shows Mr. Williams still very much who we have to see him be as his physical manner is still so internalized so tight in Nighy's performance and the man is trying to have fun, to live, yet isn't able to. This is most summarized within one bar where there is a piano and Mr. Williams a song of his youth "The Rowan Tree". Nighy's singing performance here is so essential to the character's entire journey, and this is a potent moment, a potent moment however defined by pain. Nighy begins with this force within the song and really a great deal of desperation. Nighy shows a man trying to recapture something, but not at all successfully doing so. Instead, he shows an attempt to do so in his delivery that isn't filled with joy, rather it is filled with pain, and his expression is of a man still suffering, still filled with so much anxiety. I love the final moment of the song here where Nighy shows the darkness that seems to fill Mr. Williams's mind until he just gives up at this point of just failure and seems to represent so much more than just not quite getting through this song here. We see this though as the failure of this entire endeavor, as Mr. Williams is fundamentally still trying to live and in no way doing so. 

Mr. Williams's second avenue comes unexpectedly as he runs into Miss Harris, who has left the office permanently, unlike Mr. Williams who just hasn't returned there since his diagnosis. Wood's performance as Miss Harris seemingly offers the proper antidote to Mr. Williams's state, as she is a ball of energy and excited to see her old boss. Nighy's pitch-perfect in his initial reaction which is with the intrigue of the young woman, not a hint of illicit lust, rather just a curiosity in her spirit. Every question Mr. Williams initially asks her Nighy brings within it genuine intrigue, and in it, brings just a hint more life to his voice and his whole manner, though just a hint. Over lunch, Miss Harris shares with Mr. Williams her nicknames, not particularly flattering, for each of the men at the office. Although Nighy expresses a naturally good-natured laugh there is something different when Miss Harris comes to Mr. Williams's nickname, which for her was "Mr. Zombie". Nighy's reaction to this information is exceptional. That is the way he conveys the moment of surprise, a bit of sadness, but also a sense of bemusement in about a second. With that though Nighy also expresses Williams finally coming to some terms with himself and breaking his reserve just a bit more. Nighy eking out this bit of joy in his interaction with the optimistic Miss Harris. Nighy looks at her continually with that keen sense of interest though, as though he is looking for something that is deeper than that something fundamental. Mr. Williams returns again to Miss Harris however, who is a little less inclined towards the appearance, though Nighy is so wonderful in being so disarming by implementing that Nighy charm at the perfect moment. In expressing Mr. Williams finding himself just a bit more which says so much with so little, but also convincing that Miss Harris would go join him to see a film because there is such an earnest sweetness in the request in the way that Nighy makes it. 

In the following sequence, we see a reversal though as Miss Harris becomes more hesitant while Nighy shows that Mr. Williams is finally enjoying life a bit more as he spends time with her. Nighy being quite moving by we the viewer can see the simple precious fun that Mr. Williams is having playing just a claw drop game with her, and reveals it as a break out from the "Mr. Zombie" he had been. When Miss Harris finally politely puts a stop to it, this is what forces Mr. Williams to bluntly state his situation. Nighy's articulation of this is even a bit different though as he grants a sense of perspective now in the examination of it and the attempt to find some meaning in life. When he asks Miss Harris her "secret" in being so joyful, which she has none, Nighy's asking of it is heartbreaking because of the intense sincerity of the request. His remark once wanting to be gentlemen as his old dream, Nighy speaks in a mix of hopelessness but also dream. It is painful but there is now a hint of a sense of the passion that once defined the man. Nighy in his eyes is that of a man looking for some kind of truth and just was attempting to find it in this young woman, just to show him the way. Although there isn't some clear explanation by Miss Harris to solve things for him, Nighy's reactions though convey the insight in a roundabout way. Nighy quietly creates this revelation within the man who comes into the next day to the office with purpose. Nighy is outstanding in this scene just by the way his physical manner has changed, to now walking with purpose, moving as someone outwardly who knows exactly where they are going, and really a man who is alive more than anything. What makes it so potent, even though it is a relatively short scene, is that Nighy has earned this transition we've seen every step of the way from the lonely husk just lost in the world, now as a man who knows where he is going, however, that is both in terms of his mortality, but also in his intention to live. 

This film maintains Kurosawa's masterstroke of the jump in time as we arrive at Mr. Willliams's funeral, having died, however in the reception we learned he successfully created the children's playground which had been petitioned and ignored previously. We are left with his former associates trying to figure out the changes in Mr. Williams as he attempted to make this one pivotal change. In each now flashback, Nighy continues the brief idea we had gotten of the man who no longer was dying at his desk, but now living in action by trying to make genuine change. We see in each instance a different setback that Mr. Williams now faces. Nighy's presence is perfect here, he doesn't go into fully confident Nighy, he goes into fully confident Mr. Williams. This is still a proper gentleman however now Nighy emphasizes that in a way where that means something, something good. Nighy speaks with a respectful but oh so now forceful manner as he states clearly his need for each department to do their job to make the park happen. When there is a setback, even a potentially vexing one, Nighy's expression is with this grace and kindness that defines him. I love a moment of reassuring the women who had made the petition, as Nighy is now the perfect gentleman in his quiet encouraging words that he infuses with such a natural passion and a sense of a man living his best life, even when dealing with frustration. When we see Mr. Williams admiring the park actually happening, even in ill health, the sense of pride is beaming from Nighy and the man who had seemed so little, now stands so big, even when forced to sit. Nighy shows that even when decaying in body, the man stands so tall in spirit and realizes the state so naturally, and so poignantly. All these scenes are brief, yet Nighy makes an impact with each to show Mr. Williams as a changed man, a change he has earned so remarkably. Of course, all this seems but a warm-up to Nighy's final scene in the film, which I'll admit put me right on the edge of tears (which as noted previously is always a great accomplishment by a performer for me). That is Mr. Williams near his final moment as he swings within his completed park, and sings "The Rowan Tree" once again. Nighy though now brimming with joy and a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. His singing is now a celebration of his living, and a man truly experiencing what it means to be alive in the purest of turns. I felt chills through every note of the song, as Nighy's work at the moment is absolutely devastating, however, it is also so beautifully inspiring. Nighy's work doesn't wallow in despair, nor is it a simple jaunt to happiness. He shows the struggle of a man searching for purpose, and the great satisfaction in being able to find it. This is a masterful turn by Bill Nighy as he expresses his pit of sorrow so viscerally however that in turn only makes his as tangible journey to jubilation all the more impactful. And a journey I shan't soon forget. 

Best Actor 2022

And the Nominees Are:

Austin Butler in Elvis

Brendan Fraser in The Whale

Colin Farrell in The Banshees of Inisherin

Bill Nighy in Living

Paul Mescal in Aftersun

Best Supporting Actor 2022: Results

5. Judd Hirsch in The Fabelmans - Being five in this lineup is no dishonor. This is a proper definition of a "one scene wonder" though he technically has four scenes, as he comes in, makes his incredible impact and leaves an impression you won't forget. 

Best Scene: Art/Family

4. Brian Tyree Henry in Causeway - Henry gives such a  sensitive and very naturalistic portrayal of a man trying his best to live with grief. 

Best Scene: Describing the crash.

3. Barry Keoghan in The Banshees of Inisherin - Keoghan goes out on a limb successfully realizing the broken state of his character, however doing so with humor and a great deal of humanity. 

Best Scene: "That's the meanest thing I ever heard"

2. Brendan Gleeson in The Banshees of Inisherin - Although I'll freely admit it is silly to call an Oscar nominated performance underrated, I still can't help but say it, only because the praise for him just has gotten a little lost at times between the other great performances in his film and those in his category. This is an outstanding performance by Gleeson who realizing with such complexity, humanity and also humor a man truly struggling with how to deal with his depression. I love everything about this performance that quietly eats at you long after you watch it. 

Best Scene:  "For a bit of peace, Siobhan."

1. Ke Huy Quan in Everything Everywhere All At Once - Good predictions Ytrewq, Lucas, Robert, RatedRStar, Calvin and Bryan. Closer than some might think, though it is a Tony Leung evocation that really made all the difference, because I want to emphasize that I adore Gleeson's work through and through. Quan though gives a masterful turn here, giving three distinct and wholly successful performances. One as a dashing badass, one as a suave romantic and of course as one of the most lovable cinematic characters I've seen in some time. And yes, for me this is the greatest supporting actor lineup we've ever had. 

Best Scene: A plea for love. 

Best Supporting Actor 2022: Ke Huy Quan in Everything Everywhere All At Once

Ke Huy Quan won his Oscar from his first Oscar nomination for portraying Waymond Wang in Everything Everywhere All At Once.

Everything Everywhere All At Once follows a middle-aged Chinese immigrant Evelyn (Michelle Yeoh) as she faces her life choices, her family, and the potential destruction of reality. 

Speaking of never counting an actor out, Ke Huy Quan has proven to potentially be one of the all-time great comeback stories having gone from his childhood work in Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom and The Goonies, to fading to obscurity, to behind-the-scenes work, and then finally getting an opportunity again to come in front of the camera. An opportunity he did not waste. I'll admit the first time I watched the film, I thought two things as I saw this performer I could swear I never saw before, "this guy is good" but also "that voice sounds so oddly familiar yet I cannot place it for the life of me". Well, the voice was familiar but in the now adult Quan is obviously a very different role than what had made him noted in the 80s. One thing that is consistent is an obvious excitement to be onscreen that here is rather infectious. Quan's portrayal of Waymond here, as the husband of Evelyn, who run their family laundry with their lesbian daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu), initially carries with it this rather, for the lack of a better word, dorky but endearing presence as we see the man run around the laundry doing various tasks. Unlike his wife who seems always tired about something, Quan shows that Waymond has much joy just in his average day-to-day moments. Take the moment of dancing with one of their customers, a moment that could be too much, yet Quan is pitch perfect in showing this personality of warmth and fun as he just brings the sense of someone who is trying to have fun as he can. Important to this as well is as Joy introduces her girlfriend to the family, Quan shows just the biggest sense of acceptance and love for his daughter and her girlfriend in the purest sense. Quan shows someone who really wants to welcome others as he can and tries to make the most of what he has going on. This is still with a lot of movement all around but Quan presents it as the man trying to find the simple joys where he can in most circumstances. 

The exception to this is within the actual central relationship between Waymond and his wife. Quan with Yeoh creates a sense of a LONG history between the two, although not in exactly the best way. Much of what Yeoh shows is taking Waymond very much for granted in every little request and taking little joy in the joy he is trying to spread. Quan on the other hand shows this certain low-key sense of frustration in these moments of just trying to get his wife to play along with him for even a moment. In turn, when she actually communicates it is always something in terms of just taking care of some task, and Quan's reaction to these moments is consistent with this very sort of accepted sense of frustration. Everything is something other than the love between them, but every interaction reveals the long history between them. As his acceptance is that of someone who has largely accepted what it is with time. And as is the truth with the situation Waymond was planning on delivering divorce papers to his wife. These moments are so beautifully performed by Quan as you see that joy drift on his face, which has the greater impact because that so defines who Waymond is in Quan's overall portrayal. This is something he obviously can't find joy in, and Quan portrays such a potent sadness every time he's clearly thinking about the divorce papers. You see in his face though it isn't with a hint of anger or anything like that, but rather this sense of hopelessness attached to it. Quan presents the emotion as something that Waymond has come to after much personal conflict and it clearly isn't at all easy, and so far flung from his very nature to consider such a thing. And just from this alone, this is a wonderful performance. Quan makes an endearing presence that is just fun to watch in itself, which is always something you want in a film and makes Waymond even in his kind of nerdy way, immensely likable. 

Of course, this is only getting just started as Evelyn finds out suddenly in an elevator ride as Waymond becomes possessed by the consciousness of Waymond from an alternative universe. I would think one might've thought that you might just get that energy from Quan, but here's where greatness is revealed because of the ease with which he completely changes his performance in a matter of a moment. Although visually Waymond pulls the old Clark Kent/Superman out of removing his glasses, Quan's performance does the actual selling of the transformation. His face instantly went from that slightly silly expression to a face of confidence and determination. His movements go from that slightly hapless though energetic, to firm and distinct in his movements. Quan instantly becomes a man of action with such ease, and really more than that. It's an amazing bit because he goes from goofy to dashing with such ease that you instantly believe this new Waymond just as you did the old. Quan isn't playing the role was Waymond playing another, a role he is rather an entirely new Waymond. That in itself would probably be enough, but there really is more because what Quan has to do in an instance is a TON of heavy lifting to convey the plot of the piece in a matter of a few minutes. Quan proves himself to be a master of exposition as he delivers this onslaught of seeming nonsense, that he makes completely tangible due to his delivery that is filled with such remarkable gravitas. Every word Quan brings great meaning, and his eyes are of a man who is telling not only some great truth, it is also telling it as the most essential truth anyone ever had to tell in their life. Quan makes it, as weird of a switch as it is, as natural as it can be because there is no silliness in his voice now, this is a matter of the greatest importance. 

Quan's performance for me is ideal in capturing the film's wacky tone in a way that I found the most appealing, strangely enough, because as Alpha Waymond he actually takes things so seriously. Take the first action scene where Quan's whole performance is magnificent. Yes in terms of showing off his kung fu skills most definitely, but far more just in the presence he delivers at the moment. The confidence on his face as he is about to go against the enemies and just the readiness for it. Quan makes it a whole, well for the right word in this instance, an epic moment. Quan becomes this hero in this sequence and it is fantastic because he is so convincing in every respect. He is convincing in terms of the fighting, in a way that is so energized within that, but he is also so convincing in delivering every word around the ridiculous plot. With every more ridiculous idea Quan puts all his heart into selling it, and in a way owns the wackiness that for him makes it not so wacky strangely enough. Even when Alpha Waymond goes on about enjoying Dairy, since in their universe they lost all cows to the destroyer of realities Jobu Tupaki (aka their daughter Joy from the Alpha verse), Quan still delivers that even with conviction. The comedic moments around this version of the character sold with all seriousness within Quan's performance, and the right approach in offering some real weight in selling the whole concept. Quan succeeds in this and succeeds in really presenting the whole next phase of the film with such ease. Making, even as supporting, setting up a great hero, and more so mentor toward Evelyn to go the rest of the way. To the point that even the end moment of Alpha Waymond, is separately moving from any fate of the other Waymond because Quan makes him such a distinct character on his own. Quan still bringing only the most sincere moment of his final words towards Evelyn, and making a moving exit to that character. 

There's still regular Waymond though and to say that's all there is would be a disservice to this Waymond, who despite his dorky manner is so much more than that. Quan is so incredibly endearing just in every little reaction he has in every single scene. No matter what he adds just a bit more comedy, or just a bit more heart to every single different moment he has. It can be a second or much more of that, Quan is always adding more to this film. This is Quan quite simply the secret weapon of the film and Waymond ends up being so in the narrative. This isn't simple goodness that Quan depicts however, there is so much more than that. In the alternative path where we actually see Evelyn and Waymond discuss the divorce, rather than get entangled in the multi-verse. Quan brings so much vulnerability at the moment and shows though in his delivery that the emphasis is on just the tragedy of the two's failure, rather than any negative emotion to who they are or even who Evelyn is. The sadness comes from not being able to achieve the happiness it he thought they were capable of. Quan always successfully emphasizes the better nature of Waymond so naturally, making him consistently just this sense of brightness even in those dark moments. For me, one of the most emotional moments is when Waymond pleads to Evelyn to stop, who in a nihilistic stupor stabs Waymond. That's so heartbreaking because the disbelief on Quan's face is so fundamental and so pure of someone who only wants the best for everyone. In turn, when he successfully makes a second plea where he isn't stopped, Quan's delivery is perfect because he brings so much passion that has this profound sense of goodness, hope, and optimism for peace and love. Quan sells that moment but really sells the key idea that love is where it is. He does it without being saccharine, rather he just makes it a truth and shows for all of how one might underestimate Waymond, that there's such power in such a purity of a soul. That soul that Quan makes is so tangible and really just so beautiful in his overabundance of warmth. 

Of course, I would be remiss if I ended this review without mentioning the final Waymond that is given substantial time, that is in the alternate verse where Evelyn is a famous actress who rejected Waymond long ago, but they meet again at a premiere, where the two are essentially within the land of Wong Kar-wai's In the Mood For Love. This could be a fun bit, but it's not a bit. Quan takes it 100% seriously and goes all in on this task. In that he reinvents himself again, to give a performance worthy of comparison to Tony Leung, with his suave demeanor. A completely different confident demeanor than Alpha Waymond. Quan makes him entirely his own man, and his whole manner evokes Leung but also Quan seemingly merely could've played that part. As he gives so much in his eyes of a man thinking about could've beens and might've beens. Quan's delivery is rich with so much repressed emotion as he calmly states that he would've loved to have lived a less glamorous life with Evelyn. Quan brings such poignancy to every word and creates a real sense of a man thinking and feeling in a wholly different way, yet still in this way of a man wanting love. This love though now is the love a man who knows he cannot have but still thinks about it. Quan plays that regret though with a sense of philosophical understanding rather than overt sadness. This could've been just a comical moment, but it is so much more. And really that moment only made me what more could Quan do as an actor, as in this film, he appears to have no limits. To the point that the combined sequence of normal Waymond and Leung Waymond's mutual expressions of belief in love, is so cathartic and powerful, that for me the film struggles to come back from it because it is such an ideal climax thanks to just how outstanding Quan is. I love everything about this performance by Ke Huy Quan. And while it is unfortunate to hear about his struggle to get back to this point, I am so glad that he did, and delivered this turn. A performance worthy of every bit of praise it has garnered, and that this wasn't the gimmicky return of a fun actor from the 80's, rather Quan proved, that a great actor can now can finally live up to his potential.

Best Supporting Actor 2022: Barry Keoghan in The Banshees of Inisherin

Barry Keoghan received his first Oscar nomination for portraying Dominic Kearney in The Banshees of Inisherin. 

Following Brendan Gleeson to every nomination with just about every precursor was up-and-coming Irish actor Barry Keoghan, who is quickly making a name for himself in a very short amount of time. Barry Keoghan plays the smaller of the two supporting roles, though the flashier in terms of performance. Keoghan plays theoretically within the Irish locale trope of the "village idiot" though even as such alone, though consistent with much of the film this falls within people dealing with mental issues in a time when the vocabulary for such things was limited, and particularly absent for those on such a rural and isolated island as is Inisherin. And as usual for Keoghan, he very much gives a "take or leave" performance in many respects. Going very much for a particular and often unique characterization that one can either accept or severely disregard. This particular idea I think might in part be whether one likes this film or loves it, not that Keoghan makes or breaks the film, rather he is one of the key "side bits" that is working around what is going on between the central conflict of Pádraic and his old friend Colm, who won't talk to the former anymore. 

Keoghan's performance is very intense in his particular mannerisms which makes Dominic who he is. He has an innate awkwardness in his manner, usually shyly looking away from most, speaking with a difficult blend between speaking both too openly yet also too hesitantly at the same time. It is a curiously broken delivery that Keoghan consistently delivers as the way simply that is that Dominic speaks. Keoghan presents Dominic as someone who in a way ill-fitting to this place because he himself is not allowed to be fit by anyone or anything. He in turn can't quite manage himself in any particular space and his performance brings to it this sloppy energy of someone who is always both extremely self-conscious and extremely unaware of himself at the same time. It is a fascinating blend that for me, Keoghan pulls off incredibly well by showing the way the world is so innately cruel to the state Dominic. Because he is someone who in a way wants to just be himself, yet being himself only gets him into trouble, so in turn he is in this constant conflict with himself of someone who is being himself while at the same time seemingly constantly reminding himself not to be himself at the same. In turn, everything Keoghan makes is a young man, who is a bit of a mess due to this unfortunate state. 

Keoghan's performance and Martin McDonagh's writing I would argue do not depict him as someone who has mental retardation in terms of basic intelligence. Although Dominic isn't always saying the most intelligent things they are no less foolish than what is stated by many of the "normal" intelligent people who speak in Inisherin. Dominic though is emotionally stunted due to the verbal, physical, and sexual abuse of his father towards him. Everything in Keoghan's performance is of someone who simply was not allowed to develop properly in order to be able to react to ideas of physical attraction or any natural human interaction of the sort. Take even his interest in women, which is funny, but also does speak to the same cruelty he suffered. Keoghan's delivery again is with speaking first before thinking, however, Keoghan even delivers this in a way in which he lacks the right composure or confidence to know how to approach the idea. Keoghan's performance shows that Dominic is fundamentally broken in this respect and has no idea whatsoever in which to approach this type of conversation. Therefore to those, particularly on the island, he is of course just a fool to them who can't watch his words properly or act properly. When Dominic asks Pádraic about his sister, Siobhan, naked, or worse when he attempts to ask her himself if she was ever wild. Keoghan delivers it with all the eagerness of genuine interest, however, funneled through a completely shattered idea of the way one should approach any of this. Keoghan freely speaks as someone just trying to sound out what he thinks should work. That being when Siobhan calls him on it, Keoghan's expression is that almost of someone completely lost, and again Dominic catching up to himself that he's said the wrong thing. Although the act is theoretically intentional, Keoghan shows that his failure in it is that he truly doesn't know any better because of his fundamentally and unfortunately broken state. 

Contrasting that actually is Dominic speaking outside of female matters, where while to describe Keoghan's presentation as overly intelligent would be inaccurate, there is a greater sense of insight in other respects. And Keoghan presents someone who straightforwardly wants companionship himself. That includes just being friends with Pádraic, where I love Keoghan's sincerity in the moment of saying how the two are great chatting together. Keoghan brings this meek joy about as Dominic is just trying to be friends in their interaction as long as it is between each other. His presentation of frustration as Pádraic is stuck on his conflict with Colm is earnest as less dismissing of Colm rather being annoyed that  Pádraic can't appreciate his company alone. And Keoghan emphasizes this further when getting to stay a night with  Pádraic and Siobhan where Keoghan's excitement isn't for false potential sexual favor, but rather just for a lonely man finding some comfort even for even one night. And again outside of the sexual, Keoghan still remains firm in Dominic not at all being a fool. I love his final conversation with Pádraic, where again Keoghan is so open in the conversation and just is trying to support Pádraic as much as he can, even in the moment of articulation Dominic finds this insight as he can. When the conversation reveals Pádraic breaking his nice streak by lying to a man about death, Keoghan's face shows the real thought process and a real sense of running into this unpleasantness that is straightforward but reveals an inherent kindness so poignantly. His head shakes even has so much weight within it because Keoghan isn't of some small dismissiveness rather it is a shattering of hope almost as a man he thought was good could be suddenly capable of bad. And in a way, I think Keoghan conveys that moment as meaningful for deciding his fate as his final scene, where he pledges his love to Siobhan. And what Keoghan does in this scene is shown that for all his broken state is Dominic putting on his "A-game", though also as basically a last-ditch effort for his own hope in his life. Keoghan is exuding in desperation every moment, as he comes in so strong, so cheerfully at first as Keoghan rushes through his attempt to create a connection with her in their mutual ill feelings towards the local Banshee. Keoghan's voice begins to crack, hesitate and stumble more. Keoghan in every word showing Dominic trying, and sadly failing to break through his own awkwardness. His reactions though putting an attempted smile, while his eyes speaking towards someone who has lost all hope. While this is a performance I can understand if it doesn't work for someone, it absolutely did for me, every second of it. 

Best Supporting Actor 2022: Brendan Gleeson in The Banshees of Inisherin

Brendan Gleeson received his first Oscar nomination for portraying Colm Doherty in The Banshees of Inisherin. 

Brendan Gleeson has finally received his Oscar nomination, a fact that I think probably hasn't been celebrated enough, particularly as he received recognition for work that is an extension of the previous masterful collaboration, In Bruges, between performers with him and Colin Farrell, and director/actor with him and Martin McDonagh. As with In Bruges, the two are playing characters linked, however in very different environments and experiences from the two hitmen in a bad place (mentally not literally, we all know Bruges is like a fairytale). Gleeson's role here is very different from the compassionate older hitmen of that film, playing a particularly difficult role because in some ways Colm is intentionally often an enigmatic figure as we most frequently see him from the perspective of Farrell's Pádraic. Our first glimpse is as his presumed friend Pádraic stops by his house one morning, to which Colm does not respond to his knock. Gleeson's performance begins obscured through a window and his expression of some anger would seem though more so a man burdened by something. Gleeson's walk as Colm in itself is a great bit of character revealed just in his dramatic saunter, which again suggests someone who isn't at all walking on air. Every step feels filled with stone, his face worn by something, though we're not sure of what that is as of yet. Pádraic set up at their isolated island's pub for the two of them as though it seems he would any old day, however, this day isn't any old day. Gleeson's performance achieves a perfect tone in this scene as he is very funny while also being wholly serious in presenting the intention. Gleeson's eyes fixed into a serious glare and a very cold delivery as every word he says is about avoiding Pádraic, being anywhere other than he is. Gleeson moves around as though a man with a mission though that mission only being to avoid the man formerly known as his good friend. The actual discussion is one-sided as Gleeson's stare is so painfully without warmth as he seems to stare through Pádraic. His delivery is a kind of perfection as he states simply does not like Pádraic anymore. Comical because of just how bluntly Gleeson says it but also speaking to the state of Colm. Colm notes his disinterest in Pádraic as a man, without a specific coldness, that isn't hate but is rather a cruel certainty. 

There's a particularly important moment early on as Pádraic and his sister Siobhan (Kerry Condon) pass Colm, on the walkway soon afterward. Gleeson's face seems to illustrate some bit of mystery to Colm's intentions as it is the face of a deeply depressed man, suffering in his state. This is against his moments of rejecting Pádraic which Gleeson consistently presents as the most fervent bit of conviction in the man, and an absolute as he denies Pádraic rights to friendship again and again. Gleeson through this actually gives some sense to what the character is doing, as he slowly peels away his purpose, even in his strange way that lacks the vocabulary of a man who can diagnose himself. Gleeson's noting that Colm no longer wants to waste time with Pádraic's tales of his animal's shite and no longer wants to waste time in general with the man. Gleeson's work is fascinating because he doesn't simplify this emotion, while also being very funny still in again the very blunt delivery he brings to it. Nothing the not wanting to waste his time though there is a greater melancholia about it. What is fantastic about what Gleeson does is present a certain inability to quite grasp exactly what he is saying as he is saying this however in terms of the broader implications, however, Gleeson's face wears with it that burden of a man facing his own mortality without fully being able to verbally express what that means. Gleeson logically presents that Colm is trying to find some strange purpose through two sources, one consciously and the other subconsciously. The subconscious is his dismissal of Pádraic where Colm is stubborn in his insistence that he's a dull man who he can't waste his time with. Gleeson performs every dismissal with a kind of breathy release in each statement and again with conviction as though putting Pádraic out of his life will somehow make his life more worthwhile. A demented idea potentially, however, Gleeson reveals in a way that is funny just how direct it is, yet in that directness creates a subtle sense of the vulnerability in terms of the man's mortality that fuels this conviction. Take just the way Gleeson says that Pádraic is dull, the first in that blunt funny way, the second though with a real pathos that emphasizes that this choice means a great deal to him. The conscious is very obvious, however well performed by Gleeson, that being the man's passion for music. This is probably the simplest aspect of Gleeson's performance, but as it should be. This aspect, Gleeson presents as just a simple joy in Colm's life as he finds purpose through his violin playing and attempting his new composition. 

What Gleeson does consistently fully embodies this choice that is strange in the way that has such humane detail in each instance. When he expresses his need for a bit of peace, Gleeson is genuine in evoking a man trying to come to terms with his eventual demise. In the first more intimate technical moment of confession, which is a masterclass in comedic work by Gleeson but also great sense of emotional character. Gleeson is hilarious in his incredulous looks at the priest for trying to speak up for Pádraic, and his real bit of annoyance when noting he'll be "pure fucked" if he dies during this week when the priest hasn't forgiven him. When noting his loss of despair though, and throwing down his sins, Gleeson is so bluntly honest in his delivery as the way this particular man calculates things as he does. The lessened despair is that of a pure joy that Gleeson is presenting simply as that. Gleeson makes any sense, to the strange sense it is through his very violent non-violent method of trying to stop Pádraic's friend requests once and for all, as he threatens to cut off his own fingers every time his old friend speaks to him. Gleeson's work is all about the emotional conviction in this threat, which really isn't a threat but rather a promise in the way Gleeson states it so matter of factly, and even with a hint of sympathy as he notes he doesn't desire to hurt Pádraic's feelings despite it all. And I must note his final physical gesture of shushing Pádraic as the end of the threat, is such a wonderful bit of performance, as in that Gleeson shows just how real this all is to Colm. And the strange thing is that this isn't about Colm hating Pádraic, as illustrated by his help of the man after he's gotten beaten by the local police bully. Gleeson's physical performance again is fantastic because there is just a hint of a moment of his weakness as he seems to want to rekindle the friendship but quickly flattens it again in his heart to try to maintain his distance still.

This doesn't fix the conflict though as a drunk Pádraic confronts Colm, and it probably is easily one of my favorite scenes of 2022. As the conflict becomes philosophical between niceness and being remembered. Gleeson's performance plays off of Farrell so perfectly, as the low to the high in a certain sense, as he speaks with a such a fierce sense of understanding of his side as he disregards niceness and reveals such potent passion for the idea of music being more important than niceness. Gleeson brings such hope in every word about the music and such disregard towards niceness. Gleeson in every moment sells Colm's position, while also showing in a way this deep sorrow beneath it all in a way, as Gleeson brings hints of shame in his brow in those moments of disregard and a bit of a pained optimism. Gleeson shows a man for his sense of mortality needs this to be the truth, otherwise, he can't quite live with his death in sight. And as much as Colm is impressed by that moment, Pádraic's stumbling talk the next morning is less so. I love Gleeson's performance of the reaction to the moment which is anger, however not anger that is hate-based, rather wholly frustration based as in his face you see a man who realizes he must now go along with his finger-cutting threat, and also that no matter what he does it just doesn't seem to be getting through. And after the initial finger cut, one of Gleeson's best scenes is his talk with Siobhan trying to talk some sense into the situation. Gleeson is truly heartbreaking, even as insane as his finger cutting is because the verbalization of his sense of impending death is so deep seeded into his work that he shows a man who is in a way broken by knowing he's going to die. What Gleeson shows is this man is very much stuck within his internalized dread at the expense of his old friend. And what we actually see is the final break in this is when Colm's second finger cutting leads to the death of Pádraic's emotional support miniature donkey. Gleeson's reaction is kind of oddly sweet because you see in his eyes the immediate sense of real guilt and apology towards the act. Just the way now that Gleeson reacts to Farrell changes, and he no longer looks through him or detaches from him, he once again genuinely looks with interest towards him. Gleeson's whole manner changes and you see that sense of empathy now in his work, which was a key to his performance in In Bruges. And it is a remarkable change, as Gleeson shows a man who realizes his choice was that of a man who was on an island without community. I adore Gleeson's final confessional scene where again he manages tone so effortlessly, still being hilarious when arguing for the concern needed for miniature donkeys and that punching a policeman should not be considered a sin. When remarking on his guilt for the death of the donkey and his own despair, Gleeson is painfully open and vulnerable showing a man now fully experiencing what he had been trying to hold in. Conversely, though his final moment, Farrell really says it all, because just watches Gleeson's interactions with Farrell in the scene. The man looks, he listens and he understands. Gleeson shows the change in Colm so potently, as the man now once again truly listening to his fellow man and his friend, the choice he had abandoned that set stage for this bloody affair. Gleeson delivers yet another outstanding performance with Farrell and McDonagh. So naturally realizing the comedic and dramatic worth of the latter's prose, but also managing to craft such a tangible portrait of humanity out of such a potentially strange and enigmatic idea. 

Best Supporting Actor 2022: Brian Tyree Henry in Causeway

Brian Tyree Henry received his first Oscar nomination for portraying James Aucoin in Causeway.

Causeway tells the story of a woman Lynsey (Jennifer Lawrence) recovering from a traumatic brain injury in her hometown of New Orleans. 

The central element of the film is Lynsey's friendship with Brian Tyree Henry's James, an auto mechanic, who she naturally meets when getting a truck fixed. I've previously covered Henry for his brief though memorable turn in If Beale Street Could Talk, and he seems like the kind of actor I'll be reviewing more than a few times. One time came a little earlier than expected with his surprise nomination here. Causeway falls into a certain group of Independent films with someone in somewhat dire circumstances evaluating their life, often through their relationship with someone else. How well this works typically is dependent upon how much you believe in the relationship and how much you believe in the performance. Henry is an actor who brings a decidedly relaxed presence that grants a certainly given reality to his work and can make an impact through that reality even with something as simple as his bit part as an orderly in Joker. His role as James here is more than a bit more substantial, however, what success there is falls into the same notion of Henry's naturalistic manner as a performer. His first scene with Lynsey is somewhat perfunctory as he runs down the options for the truck. Even in such a scene Henry's delivery just has an immediate sense of James as a mechanic, years of doing the job just in the rundown itself, and it is great simple delivery. The situation changes quickly as James gives Lynsey a ride home and they have a connection through James's sister. Henry's performance accentuates history without even putting too much on it. As talking about their mutual experience from being in New Orleans, Henry speaks so much of it with a certain joy he has when talking about, while also speaking about the character's history as his eyes instantly denote someone closing off emotionally almost immediately when Lynsey starts asking more about his sister. What the scene also does is create a convincing chemistry with Lawrence in the scene, it isn't too much or too little, as Henry builds off of it with her in the shared history of their town and sort of the joy of the mutual memories growing up. 

The main progression of the film ends up being the connection between these two characters, which needs to be believed for any of this to work at all. Although I don't love Causeway by any measure, the majority of what works is when it is just Henry and Lawrence together. The two work together, particularly Henry's work which is an exercise consistently in saying a lot even when he's not saying a lot. A lot of moments aren't about big revelations, sometimes they're just about sharing a drink or a snow cone. Henry's performance in these moments though is what gives them substance because there is a real depth through any word, even not particularly meaningful words. His deliveries, and his reactions, just feel bluntly real in a way that grants a needed reality to the scenes. Henry does this by really never coming into any of these scenes with a singular path, but rather finding a particularly naturalistic flow between ideas as people do. The reserved nuance of his work is incredibly remarkable because Henry finds his way through an average conversation is always a new way, yet never does it feel gimmicky. In every case, this just feels like we're talking to James and in turn walking into this conversation between Lynsey and James. That is particularly essential because it is the potential cliché of the two disparate people coming together, the African American mechanic who is missing a leg, and the white lesbian soldier with a brain injury. It could very easily feel that way, but it doesn't because you do believe both people in their scenes together. Every interaction between the two just feels honest within the performances, and the scenes, including the most casual of scenes, have a fundamental lived-in quality that gets the relationship over the potential hump of the artificial design within the screenplay. 

Speaking of artificial design, where the inherent drama of the pieces enters is the two sharing their mutual troubled histories as one, as both are broken in some way and we share that. Again something that can easily twist towards melodramatic if off, even as written here potentially, but the performances earn in. In part, because the two feel authentic together when they're discussing a matter of great importance but also by how Henry performs the most intense emotions. There are really three major scenes in this regard. The first is when James describes the accident where he lost his leg, which also led to the death of his sister and nephew. Henry's performance throughout the scene is brilliant. His delivery is weighed with regret and the history of the invention. Every word he says is an omission of something, while still having so much hesitation in even what he is admitting. His eyes nearly closing but also pressing, as though he is directly thinking of the memory at the moment, going through the pain again. Henry though doesn't go big, he goes small and is so poignant in the small. Henry presents the moment as not someone who has made peace with the event but has spent some time with it. He knows how to avoid feeling some of the emotions, and Henry presents that process in such a powerful fashion yet also with natural detail. The second scene that tackles this is when he and Lynsey are lounging around a pool she is treating, where she gets him to join her in the pool, where he reveals his injury. Take Henry's physical work around the scene, he doesn't give too much attention to it, however, in such subtle discomfort shows the man in no way is confident in this state or still with his permanent injury. This leads to them first making out, before he rejects that which she follows with her feeling sorry for him. Henry is great in this scene in just exuding such pained frustration and sorrow in every word, while still showing the attempt to hold it all together. Even when he lets out a little more about his crash, that he was driving, he had drank, and allowed his nephew to sit in a vulnerable spot, Henry's delivery is masterful by being so human in releasing the emotion in equal measure with holding it in as a defense mechanism. Evoking a potent shame while showing a man still wanting to hold himself together. Henry creates such a moving and complex portrayal of guilt, that he never simplifies it into easy sentiment, rather it is a complicated and nuanced sorrow weathered but not lost by time. We see within this eventually what really connects the two isn't romance, despite the aforementioned moment, but companionship. This is illustrated I think by a scene that one might not think about too much but is one of the best in Henry's performance, as he asks Lynsey to move with him, not as a lover or wife, but just as a friend. Henry speaks the words in a straightforward way however just within every word there is real hope and his eyes the sense of the sad loneliness that defines the man deep down. Again Henry brilliantly plays the layer of the man revealing himself but still holding it all in. Although I don't even love this film, or even like it entirely, what unquestionably works for me is Henry's dynamic and always convincing portrait of grief and the need for companionship. 

Best Supporting Actor 2022: Judd Hirsch in The Fabelmans

Judd Hirsch received his second Oscar nomination for portraying Boris Schildkraut in The Fabelmans. 

Judd Hirsch after over 40 years returns to another Oscar nomination, holding a simple truth a suppose, never count an actor out, until they're truly out. Furthering this point all the more was his trajectory in this Oscar race where he missed out in most of the precursors only to show up in the end over his co-star, in a very small role, appearing in less than ten minutes of the film, in a total of 4 scenes, two which are just him getting out and getting in a car. My review here primarily is looking at his other two scenes, well other than his physical performance even his entrance and exit are worth mentioning, though more on that in a bit. Hirsch comes in as the great uncle of Steven Spielberg's surrogate (Sammy) after Sammy's grandmother has died, and he's come to pay his respects. Despite being regarded as some banshee by Sammy's mother, there doesn't seem to be anything too scary about this elderly Jewish man who wishes to see his extended family. The one thing that does seem notable is that Judd Hirsch, despite being in his late eighties, has no lack of energy as a performer, in fact, his energy is almost overflowing. Hirsch is playing here a specific, well-documented in film, type of elderly Jewish family member who has his slang, has his methods of speaking, and has his whole manner that is distinctly that. A potentially very tired role if you step wrong even a little bit, Hirsch's performance though so owns this idea that he just seems to have mastered the bit, to become the bit and transcend the bit. Hirsch is that in his particular timbre in his voice, his exact accent and his exact articulation that has been seen before even by Hirsch (Independence Day), however few times better than right here. Hirsch runs with it, really sings with it as the character explains his whole backstory in rapid-fire delivery, and discusses his history as a lion tamer and member of film production, while also commenting on his annoyance of sister, without missing a beat. Hirsch not missing a beat is the key to it as he overflows with the energy of the performance, and there is a joy in this performance that is hard not to find endearing if not even a bit entrancing. The real meat of his performance is as shares a bedroom with Sammy for the night and he discusses quite openly a key theme of the piece. That is the love of art even when it comes at the cost of family, Hirsch's Boris is a man who sought out his dream regardless and lives it as he does. Before I get to the big, take a moment for the small which is a reason why I do have great affection for this performance, and maybe less so for a performance that plays the closest family to this character of a similar ilk. Hirsch's performance isn't one-sided as big as it is and as much as he's an isolated supernova. In the dinner scene, and in the bedroom scene, Hirsch does take the time and finds the nuance in the reaction of Boris taking in his great grand nephew, sizing him up, and figuring him out. These are brief moments but they are there and essential to finding just enough ballast for this performance. Because then Hirsch goes big and broad, however broad befitting an eccentric Jewish man who made his living by sticking his head in the mouth of a lion. The man loves performing and that comes out in Hirsch's full-bodied work. And full-bodied it is as you get no sense of his age by the amount of fire and passion that is in each movement, of someone who is so filled with the life of artistry that he is expressing and really life itself that he just can't even hold it in. Hirsch expresses that very particular life in a man who has to express himself as such and does so with a real dynamic power. Hirsch is engaging for every second of it and articulates I think the potentially more corny speech, with a real sense of the fierce emotion about it. I love particularly his kind of almost pestering way about it, as much as it isn't quite supportive, almost rather he has a certain interrogating quality in his voice as he prods Sammy. He accuses him of artistry and forces Sammy to recognize that in himself. That is summarized perfectly in Hirsch's final moment, just a single point to Sammy as he leaves, that is a direct statement without a word and Hirsch says it all at that point. With a little more in any moment, I might've hated this performance and the idea of the character. Hirsch for me though just hits the right stream of an entertaining larger than life intensity that makes so powerfully and quickly makes his firm statement then makes his egress.