Photographer Chris Washington is nervous about meeting his girlfriend Rose’s parents for the first time, especially when he learns that she has not told them that he is black. Their awkward behavior, along with the oddness exhibited by their two African-American servants, puts Chris on alert but even so, he is unprepared for the family’s true motivations.
“Jordan Peele’s ‘Get Out’ is about racism and cultural appropriation, the film’s get-out-the-vote team says, but also (in this #MeToo moment) about the abuse of power,” The New York Times writes. Peele tells the paper, “Given the state of our country right now, we urgently need to encourage … fresh ideas and fresh voices.” In The Hollywood Reporter, producer Jason Blum says, “I think it’s resonating because of the climate caused by the Trump administration. Generally, the country has gone in the right way in terms of racism and sexism, even if in the last 12 months we’ve gone the wrong way. I think it’s incredibly timely, sadly.”
Gray says that Get Out’s place on this list may be because the Oscars are the least diverse of all the major award shows. “I think this is a reflection on the state of the film industry compared to the music and TV industries. To that end, it appears that the Academy was desperately trying for a more diverse set of Best Picture nominees,” he says. “While I think the film Get Out was a good movie, it wasn’t a historically great film. It seems to me it was only included because they were desperate to find at least one film to recognize that was made by an African-American. I find it sad in a way that Get Out was one of the few African-American films released in 2017. There simply weren’t many options for the Academy to choose from.”
A different opinion comes from Aloia: “I believe that Get Out should win the best picture Oscar simply because of its shock value and its twist on what it means to be white or black in America.” This movie and Three Billboards (discussed later) exemplify Kesey’s lighting rods—they have thrown a wrench “in what we wanted to believe about race in America,” she says.
Strong-willed teenager Christine McPherson, who has dubbed herself Lady Bird, yearns to leave her hometown of Sacramento and attend college on the East Coast. Her equally opinionated mother, Marion, who is struggling to provide for her family, tries to prepare her daughter for life’s inevitable heartbreaks while also encouraging her to be her best self.
“I am looking forward to more of what we have seen at the Golden Globes and the SAG [Screen Actors Guild] awards: females rising up against the male-dominated Hollywood system (and the world),” says Cygnar. “Greta Gerwig’s nomination as director for Lady Bird is a step—but a small one.” The movie’s focus on a strong mother figure who is fighting for her daughter’s well-being as she comes of age portrays women’s struggle to be taken seriously, she says.
In 1950s London, middle-aged couturier Reynolds Woodcock is at the height of his fame and creative powers. His sister Cyril helps to manage his precisely ordered world, but when he falls for a younger, high-spirited waitress, Reynolds finds that his new muse has transformed his life in more ways than he thought possible.
The Hollywood Reporter notes that although Phantom Thread “centers on a male fashion designer, the women in his life, played by Vicky Krieps and … Lesley Manville, are every bit his equals.” Cygnar agrees: “1950s London is irrelevant to Phantom Thread’s contemporary theme of fighting back against harassment and the female empowerment momentum.”
In 1971, Washington Post owner Kay Graham, the first female publisher of a major newspaper, and executive editor Ben Bradlee debate whether they should publish the top-secret, politically sensitive Pentagon Papers. Facing certain legal action, the pair must decide if their duty to inform the public is more important than protecting their careers and the paper itself.
The Post is a “depiction of a woman coming into her own as a leader and taking a stand against attacks on journalists,” according to The New York Times. National Review says that “it has Oscar bait written all over it. [Steven] Spielberg even rushed it into production just this past May as a response to Trump’s antagonism toward the press. …”
The Shape of Water
In 1962, janitor Elisa Esposito works at a classified government laboratory that tests new technology to help defeat the Soviet Union during the Cold War. Isolated and lonely, the mute Elisa finds her life changing forever when she uncovers the truth about the facility’s most unusual and top-secret project.
Director Guillermo del Toro tells The Hollywood Reporter that The Shape of Water resonates with audiences due to “the emotional need that contradicts that the other must be feared rather than embraced or [loved]. This idea of love in so many forms, it has no shape. Love has no shape.” The magazine notes that the movie celebrates “outsiders”: “[A] mute woman, a black cleaning lady and a gay man join forces to save a mysterious sea creature from ominous government forces.”
“The Shape of Water mirrors the #MeToo movement with its passionate and highly motivated female main character breaking all barriers to be with the creature she loves. Shape is also about accepting and embracing difference, something that’s highly relevant in today’s world,” says Cygnar. Kristen Thorp, youth services manager at Eugene Public Library in Oregon, says it “takes individuals who would have been silent in the ’60s and gave them a chance to be heard and seen. Currently voices who are often silent are gaining a platform to speak out.”
National Review, ever a Debbie Downer, writes that “Hollywood has faced a conundrum: How should it duly register its loathing for Trump via a slate of films that went into development before Trump became president? The solution it has apparently hit upon is to fawn over Guillermo del Toro’s ridiculous sci-fi Harlequin Romance, The Shape of Water, which may as well be called The Hunk from the Black Lagoon. …”
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
Several months after the rape and murder of her teenage daughter, Mildred Hayes is so furious that the case remains unsolved that she commissions three billboards questioning the town’s respected sheriff. The prickly Mildred’s actions escalate tensions throughout the town, provoking intense reactions from all involved.
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri “features a woman demanding attention be placed on a sexual predator; red state anger; and commentary about racist policing,” according to The New York Times. “The film was quickly seen, at the time of its release, to present a repellently indifferent and instrumentalizing view of race relations and the politics surrounding them,” The New Yorker shares. “Yet its salt-of-the-earth sentimentality about small-town white people nonetheless (or perhaps therefore) found the same echo among Academy voters that it did among the electorate at large [in 2016].”
However, The Guardian notes that “race in America, especially today, is something that requires a rigorous gaze. … [A]nd the levels to which [director Martin] McDonagh doesn’t actually investigate or interrogate his own storytelling decisions in that regard are frustrating. … To portray it on screen requires some hard intellectual work and a knowledge of this life in the margins. For some critics and viewers, that’s an award [the movie] didn’t earn.”
One of them is Aloia: She says that “Three Billboards is the whitest, racist movie this year and I wonder how it is even a contender for Best Picture. The acting is phenomenal but the story is disturbing in the way it portrays Middle America, the ones that voted this past year. If you want to know who those people are this movie will help you understand how we came to this current presidential administration.”