“Gladiator II,” the enjoyably dumb sequel to the brawny Ridley Scott epic that won the best picture Oscar nearly a quarter-century ago, has just finished its premiere screening on the Paramount Pictures lot. Paul Mescal, the actor charged with donning a breastplate and replacing Russell Crowe, is mingling with the crowd, who, given the movie’s length and dinner-hour start time, are almost too busy scarfing down pizza and pasta to notice.
I’m talking with a Paramount publicist who is giving me a history lesson on how the Romans filled the Colosseum with water in order to stage a naval battle. Scott orchestrates something like this in the movie, pitting the crews of two ships, one manned by Roman soldiers, the other by gladiators, against each other. Only, this being a Ridley Scott movie, he adds an extra element — sharks.
“There’s no way they used sharks in real life,” I say. The publicist protests, and another studio rep joins the conversation. “Someone asked Ridley about that and he answered, ‘Sharks are cool. Did the Romans actually use them? Who the f— cares?’”
Who the f— cares? It is a question both specific to the scene we’re discussing and, let’s be real, to the awards season in general, an overlong marathon of nonsense and vanity that ends with Oscars usually being handed out in ways that infuriate us. Which, to be clear, is a reason the Oscars remain so much fun, not to mention a valuable snapshot of what movies and performances academy voters deem worthy at a specific moment in time.
So, for the moment, let’s put aside what just happened in this country (though that may have an impact on what prevails at the Academy Awards next year), and let’s table the debate about sharks swimming around the Roman Colosseum. Actually, indulge me one last time as I note Scott’s response to that question in a recent interview: “Dude, if you can build a Colosseum, you can flood it with f— water. Are you joking? And to get a couple of sharks in a net from the sea, are you kidding? Of course they can.”
I would not include Scott as one of the year’s best directors for “Gladiator II.” But I’d be sorely tempted to include him just for that quote. Is that any worse than voting to give Brendan Fraser an Oscar because you watched “George of the Jungle” on a loop when you were a kid? I’ll leave that up to you. Like I said, the Oscars can be exasperating.
The conventional wisdom has it that, thanks to production delays caused by the 2023 writers’ and actors’ strikes, the pickings are slim this year, which is true provided you adhere to a narrow parameter of what defines a movie or performance being “Oscar-worthy.”
With Venice and Telluride over and the Toronto Film Festival wrapping, Times columnist Glenn Whipp looks at an Oscar season that seems delightfully unsettled.
Can it be a kid-friendly animated feature, even though animated movies have a separate category? If so, then the critically acclaimed “The Wild Robot” and the charming “Inside Out 2,” Pixar’s highest-grossing film of all time, would like your attention. If not, I’d like to introduce you to Sadness and Disgust.
Might it be an international film, even if that movie failed to be submitted for the international feature Oscar by either the country financing it or the country of its filmmaker? If so, then “All We Imagine as Light,” a visually bracing portrait of female friendship in Mumbai from Indian writer-director Payal Kapadia, deserves a look. The movie won the Grand Prix at Cannes earlier this year, runner-up to Sean Baker’s “Anora,” a movie that seems destined to earn its filmmaker a long-overdue Oscar nomination.
How about body horror (“The Substance”), not-quite-horror but unsettling and heartbreaking (“I Saw the TV Glow”), a theological thriller (“Heretic”) or a movie titled “Hundreds of Beavers” that is as bizarre and delightful as its title makes it out to be? Yes, yes, yes and yes. And don’t forget Luca Guadagnino’s sexy-cool tennis-world tussle, “Challengers,” a propulsive movie I still haven’t quite recovered from, even though I saw it in April.
The point is: It’s not even Thanksgiving. Everything is in the mix! Or should be. Even a black-and-white, near-silent slapstick comedy about a 19th century trapper battling beavers. Besides, importance is in the eyes of the beholder. Did you see “Conclave,” a pulpy entertainment that, because of its fancy trappings, seems smarter than it actually is? It works best as a comedy, a clever send-up of electoral politics. Ralph Fiennes does a lot of heavy lifting to disguise its silliness.
But “Conclave” has the feel of the sort of highbrow picture that, over the years, has landed with Oscar voters. It has been a commercial success too, which doesn’t hurt, particularly at a time when prestige films have struggled to entice grown-ups away from the comforts of home.
At the moment, “Conclave” is part of a group, including festival favorites “Anora” and “Emilia Pérez” and the ambitious American Dream saga “The Brutalist,” that have bubbled to the top of a field that, thrillingly, has no front-runner, a situation that might not resolve itself until the Oscars. Widen the frame and you’ll find Denis Villeneuve’s daring “Dune: Part Two” and the uplifting “Sing Sing,” a drama about a prison theater program. “Nickel Boys,” “A Real Pain” and “September 5” are in the mix as well. Also “Gladiator II” and its circling sharks.
James Mangold’s “A Complete Unknown,” the story of Bob Dylan going electric, will finally be unveiled next week, the last of the year’s contenders to land. It’s a story that has been told many times. But with Timothée Chalamet playing Dylan, you don’t think twice — it’s probably all right. Remember: “Bohemian Rhapsody” won four Oscars. Never underestimate boomers’ allegiance to nostalgia you can sing along with.
Finally, there’s “Wicked,” the movie adaptation of the Broadway musical that has been blanketing the planet for the last couple of months with promotional tie-ins and appearances by stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande. The review embargo lifts Nov. 19. Expect plenty of hot takes, including a barrage of think pieces, seeing as, in this telling, the Wizard is an authoritarian leader using scapegoating to prey on — and stoke — people’s fears.
Let’s see where that Yellow Brick Road leads.
From the Oscars to the Emmys.
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