In my goal to beat McCracken to it (you lose this time sir but you’ll always be a better writer than me) here are my thoughts on this morning’s Oscar nominations.

“The night is always darkest before the dawn.” A great line from a great film. This morning however, after the Oscar nominations were announced, I was hoping for a little more “Dark Knight” than I got.

We were all hoping 2009 would be the year a superhero movie was nominated for best picture… and rightfully so. Iron Man was sophisticated, mind-blowing, and fun. Christopher Nowlan’s Batman sequel didn’t stop at making its mark as an epic action flick. Rather, it undoubtedly shifted into the realm of  “excellent film,” inadvertent of its iconic protagonist. It was a piece that dueled with the relevant and the timeless, a piece that dared to ask such bold questions and discuss such profound dilemmas in ways only the medium of visual storytelling could accomplish. Sure, it’s no surprise Heath Ledger’s brilliant spin on the Joker landed a nod for best supporting actor, but when his competition includes Robert Downy Jr. for the sophomoric Tropic Thunder, it  would be blatant disrespect for the deceased to snub him.

Apart from that nonsensical addition, the lists for best actors and actresses both leading and supporting is surprisingly just. You’d be hard pressed to find someone unappreciative of Brad Pit’s unprecedented portrayal of Benjamin Button, and old man who gradually grows younger, or the magnetic, raw quality Mickey Rourke brought to The Wrestler. As I had hoped last month in my review of Button, the Academy acknowledged Taraji P. Henson’s arresting performance as Queenie, the most heroic and endearing of the film’s supporting cast. It puts me at ease to see the quartet from Doubt acknowledged for their efforts. Big shots like Adams, Hoffman, Streep, and the lesser-known Viola Davis possessed the teamwork and synergy it took to make Doubt’s leap from the stage to the big screen moving. Giving a nod to Richard Jenkins for his quirky, quiet portrayal as Walter Vale in the Visitor was an equally great move. The guy is a tremendous character actor, commanding and subtle all at the same time and his role in Burn After Reading was the only thing that kept me awake.

Wall-E and Slumdog Millionaire get what they deserve. They’re both innovative films with great music to back them up. While one could argue that Wall-E has a place alongside The Dark Knight in the best film category, there’s little doubt it will take home “best animated feature against Bolt and Kung-Fu Panda.

Oh, and where were these films?:
Gran Torino
Revolutionary Road
Synecdoche, New York

These three, ESPECIALLY Clint Eastwood’s compelling and beautiful Gran Torino (shame on the academy for not even giving him a nod), should have seen much more praise.

With the exception of those and a few other grave oversights, the 2009 Oscar nominations are an interesting and somewhat fair reflection of this past year in film. My hope is that Slumdog will come out victorious as best picture with David Fincher taking home Best Director for Benjamin Button. I’ve still yet to see Frost Nixon, The Reader, or Milk (which, correct me if I’m wrong, only seems to be getting hype because of its hyper-relevant, sensitive subject matter).

Gran Torino is simple but smart. Most of the plot unfolds in a leisurely and predictable manner. Critics have described it as “Dirty Harry gets old and cranky.” It is easy (and foolish) to dismiss the elderly as irrelevant or immigrants as ignorant. It is also foolish to underestimate the dramatic power of Gran Torino. Younger moviegoers desperately need the initiation rites and religious ruminations offered by the 78-year old director (and star!), Clint Eastwood.

Gran Torino continues Eastwood’s cinematic dance with the Catholic Church. In Mystic River (2003), an entire community wrestled with unsettling secrets. The movie poster announced the theme: “We bury our sins, we wash them clean.” In Million Dollar Baby (2004), Eastwood’s washed up boxer, Frankie Dunn, engages in an ongoing ethical debate with a priest in his local parish. It served as a timely commentary upon the controversy surrounding Teri Schiavo and her right to live (or die). Eastwood leans into messy, ethical dilemmas, both acknowledging and challenging church teaching. (For more on both of these haunting films, see my new book, Into the Dark).

Eastwood wrestles with mortality in Gran Torino. We first see Korean war veteran Walt Kowalksi at his wife’s funeral. A young priest piles on platitudes that fail to move Walt. Afterwards, the earnest and inexperienced Father Janovich fulfills her dying wish, inviting Walt to confession. But Kowalski can’t imagine confiding in a person who doesn’t deserve his respect. The burden on Walt’s soul feels far too substantial for such a lightweight cleric.

Amidst substantive spiritual questions, Gran Torino offers plenty of lacerating laughs. The cantankerous Kowalski spews racist comments toward his Hmong neighbors that violate all notions of political correctness. Such blatant bigotry is rarely heard in our public entertainments. Yet, first-time screenwriter Nick Schenk revels in Walt’s rough edges. Gran Torino violates all kinds of conventional wisdom in Hollywood, pitting a lonely, irascible widower against a family of immigrants. Eastwood dares to cast unknown actors like Bee Vang in crucial roles. And yet, Gran Torino works as a litany of sacrifice. Only Eastwood’s considerable leverage could get such a modest and miraculous film made.