My Top Ten Films of 2024

It’s four months into 2025, which means it is the perfect time to release a best of 2024 list…. right? Right? Well, better late than never! It’s a slow season for the theaters right now, so if you’re still up for catching up on a few of last year’s releases, here are my recommendations. And if you missed my normal Oscars coverage, I wrote a piece not about the nominees themselves, but the spiritual undercurrents of the awards ceremony, for Byfaith magazine.

2024 was a weird year for movies. Last year’s strikes pushed several movies around in the release schedule, and a gap in the production schedule meant we didn’t get the normal amount of blockbusters or tentpole pics. I found myself underwhelmed on the whole, and my best movie-going experiences tended to be with movies I can’t recommend in good conscience (I love you Madam Web, Kraven the Hunter, and Venom 3). Still, the following are true gems that I think will stand the test of time in representing 2024 well. 

10. Good One


This small, quiet indie never got the recognition it deserved as one of the best scripts of the year. The film follows 16-year-old Sam (Lily Collias) as she accompanies her father (James Le Gros) and his friend (Danny McCarthy) on a camping trip. Various tensions mount between the trio, and Sam becomes more and more aware of how her female body- even among what should be the safe company of her father- makes her other, different, and even vulnerable. The film is incredibly nuanced and the performances are very naturalistic, making this almost feel like a documentary. Even the most shocking moment of the film is done so quietly and deftly that it might take a moment to recognize what has happened– which itself is how many of the most terrible experiences in our lives tend to play out. 

The film reminded me of 2023’s The Starling Girl in how well it understands the unique perils and horror of female adolescence, and the maddening state of being at an age where people will treat you as either a child or an adult based on whatever is most convenient to them. It is a deft picture of how and why some men protect one another’s bad behavior, even at the expense of women they love. And it is a cautionary tale– a sad parable– about the betrayal of not truly listening to one another, of being so caught up in our own insecurities that we become blind to reality around us. Good One does all of this without making any character a villain and without ever hitting a false, preachy, or melodramatic note. It’s an astounding feature-length debut by director India Donaldson, and absolutely worth seeing. 

9. We Live in Time

There are two main criticisms I’ve come across about this romantic drama starring Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield. 

1) It’s a weepy tear-jerking melodrama. To which I say: sometimes you want to enjoy a weepy tear-jerking melodrama, and not many are as well-acted as this one! And few are as romantic and take as big of swings, such as allowing the characters to be truly flawed, even unlikeable. 

And 2), the non-linear storytelling is confusing and doesn’t serve the story. I do agree with this criticism. The film’s choppy nature, moving back and forth along the timeline, doesn’t feel as planned out as a film like Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, which used this same strategy to great emotional effect. While occasionally the film manages to use this framework well, it mostly feels random and a bit alienating. However, the sheer charisma of the actors, and a script that lingers on messier emotional truths than I’m used to seeing from this kind of film, all overcome the flaws and make this a film I’m already excited to rewatch. 

8. I’m Still Here

This year’s best foreign film Oscar winner and one of the best picture nominees, I’m Still Here deserves every accolade it received. It tells the true story of the Paiva family in 1970s Brazil during the military dictatorship. Fernanda Torres is truly incredible as the matriarch Eunice, who holds her family together and seeks justice when her husband, a political dissident, is abducted. The film is excellent as an immersive experience into this moment in history, but it is equally moving as a story about how people possibly continue on with their lives after grave injustice. The film rests on Torres’s shoulders, but the ensemble here is wonderful too. The film’s ability to make you connect and love this family instantly, with their scenes feeling so lived in and natural, is one of the most impressive elements of any film I saw this year. Brave the subtitles and check this one out, I don’t think you’ll regret it.

7. The Book of Clarence

This criminally overlooked biblical epic came out last January, and it’s a shame that the studio seemingly had no faith in it and buried it completely. I’ve written before about my Commandments for Biblical Movies, and that my main criteria for any kind of religious-adjacent movie is that it needs to be, if nothing else, interesting and well-made. The Book of Clarence is bold, self-assured, and idiosyncratic. It tells the (obviously fictional) story of Clarence, a poor man who sees Jesus performing miracles and decides to fake some miracles of his own to get the same attention (and money). 

What sounds on the surface like an irreverent, jokey parody film ends up being a deeply earnest story about doubt and faith. Through its fictional narrative, it ushers you into a distorted wonderland-mirror version of the Gospel that makes you see the actual Gospel narrative with fresh eyes. It’s a parable, and Jesus loves using parables because they disarm us and let the truth sneak past our natural defenses. Book of Clarence turns the typical trappings of sword-and-sandal biblical epics, a film genre we are familiar with, on its head, to tremendous effect. And star LaKeith Stanfield continues to be one of our best actors working today, with, in my opinion, a nearly perfect filmography. Easily the most creative, off-the-beaten-path film on my list. Don’t miss it!

6. The Wild Robot

I laughed, I cried, it moved me, Bob. The animation is stunning. The score is excellent. Strong voicework across the board. This story about motherhood and community was a balm to my soul. Yes, this is technically based on a children’s book, so it is IP, but it is so lovingly handcrafted that The Wild Robot feels diametrically opposed to the more soulless animated movies of the year (looking at you, Despicable Me 4). While watching, I thought of children in my life I want to show this movie to, to inspire wonder in their hearts and build their moral character. 

The film’s main achievement to me is a deeply countercultural message about how, instead of “finding yourself” by looking within yourself and casting aside all responsibility to other people, you actually become more of yourself within the bounds of community, within the responsibility you have to other people. Being beholden to others is actually part of learning who we really are. The titular wild robot here doesn’t shake her programming on her own; she loses her programming and becomes truly free when she assumes responsibility of caring for a little duckling, and becomes entrenched in the community of animals on the island she finds herself. And even in a Christ-like move, she brings the enemy animals who hate her and each other together at great sacrifice to herself. Jesus loved us and saved us while we were still sinners and enemies to him. The Wild Robot depicts this beautifully. 

5. The Apprentice

Admittedly, I don’t know who this movie is for. The Apprentice, about the rise of Donald Trump in the 80s and his relationship with lawyer Roy Cohn, does not paint Trump in a good light, so I can’t imagine it will inspire his fans to see the movie, nor change their minds about him. Yet it’s too nuanced to feed the egos of those who disdain him- with only a few exceptions, the movie (admirably, I think) avoids taking easy shots at the things that make up Trump’s popular caricature. While these qualities keep the film from being any kind of box office success, they result in a fascinating picture. 

I think the greatest triumph of the film is that it makes the case that, like all of us, Donald Trump was not made in a vacuum. He is the product of our culture, a consequence of it. And for those of us who hate him, a reminder that we are perhaps not so incapable of being like him as we might think. Even divorced from its real-life counterpart, as a cautionary morality tale and character drama, it absolutely succeeds. And while I’ve never been a huge Sebastian Stan fan, his work here is absolutely exceptional, one of the best biopic performances I’ve ever seen. 

4. Sing Sing

I wrote a lot on Sing Sing and how it deeply moved me, so I won’t elaborate much here, except that Coleman Domingo deserved more than just an Oscar nomination! Like The Wild Robot, this movie is about the need for community and courage to live life with hope. 

3. Thelma

This is still the most entertaining comedy of the year. Featuring a terrific ensemble, a touching portrait of an intergenerational relationship, and action movie homages, this is a crowd-pleaser in the best sense.

2. Conclave

I have had some spirited discussions over this movie! Conclave has sat heavily with me since I saw it. Not just the intriguing thought experiment at the heart of the film (and the twist that infuriated some but I’ve continued to mull over) but its depiction of the business of ministry. Ralph Fiennes is the anchor here as Cardinal Lawrence. Lawrence reminded me of so many pastors and ministry leaders I know– flawed men and women who are weighed down by the responsibility on them, emotionally distant from God but earnestly clawing onto His robes with desperate hands, trying to do the right thing in the meanwhile. They live out the embodiment of Peter’s words: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Watching him navigate the political and the personal, walking into confrontations with hunched shoulders and shaking hands, quietly bearing the brunt of people’s outbursts and slander and anger as he wrestles with God internally, was one of the most thrilling experiences of the year. It’s a stunning performance and a must-see film.

1. A Real Pain

I’m astounded by how good this is. No notes from me, Mr. director/writer/actor Jesse Eisenberg. Nothing in this film strikes a false note. Kieran Culkin’s performance is flashy in a way that made it a guarantee he would receive more attention than Eisenberg’s (even though Eisenberg’s performance is a very important and compelling counterbalance. The film also has an excellent ensemble surrounding the two leads). But I’m not cynical about it because I don’t think there’s another actor working right now who has the live-wire energy of Culkin. It has the best characteristics of his Roman Roy performance but is still distinct. He is electric to watch, and props to Eisenberg for giving him a great script. There was not a moment of this movie where I wasn’t totally engrossed. A Real Pain asks thoughtful questions about grief and how we experience and express it differently (and what outward displays of pain get socially acknowledged, and which do not). It’s a small movie, but despite its conventions (road trip indie! There’s one every year) it still felt different from everything else I saw this year.

Honorable Mentions: Nosferatu, Civil War, Between the Temples, The Brutalist, A Quiet Place: Day One, The Promised Land, His Three Daughters, and Juror #2

Worst Movies of the Year: Megalopolis, Drive Away Dolls, and Deadpool and Wolverine

– Madeleine D.

Sing Sing and the Redemptive Imagination

Stories of the sort I am describing are like that visit to the deck. They cool us….Hence the uneasiness which they arouse in those who, for whatever reason, wish to keep us wholly imprisoned in the immediate conflict. That perhaps is why people are so ready with the charge of ‘escape.’ I never fully understood it till my friend Professor Tolkien asked me the very simple question, ‘What class of men would you expect to be most preoccupied with, and most hostile to, the idea of escape?’ and gave the obvious answer: jailers.” –C.S Lewis

“Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?” – J.R.R Tolkien

At Sing Sing maximum security prison, there is a theater program.

Initially created because of the psychological and social benefits of participation in the arts, the program grew from just a nice initiative to something much deeper and profound for the participating inmates. 

In their cells, they plead their case for clemency and parole and sweat in the summer heat. On stage, they fight battles and win noble wars. In the yard, they keep their heads low, avoiding the ire of guards. On stage, they recite soliloquies written for kings and wear robes and crowns. In Sing Sing, they are men defined by the past. On stage, they are whomever they want to be. 

For Divine G (Colman Domingo), an innocent man who has been wrongly imprisoned, the program is a lifeline. 

Sing Sing is a narrative film, but is based on the true Rehabilitation Through the Arts theater program that began at Sing Sing and is now in several New York prisons. The movie even centers on a real play that was written and put on in the program. Domingo plays a real man, John “Divine G” Whitfield, who cameos in the film. The majority of the ensemble cast are also formerly incarcerated actors, many of whom are alumni of this exact program.

The film has to walk a very thin tightrope. It would be easy for this to be an unholy mashup of Shawshank Redemption and Theater Camp and become saccharine and cliche. To the cynical viewer, there may be moments when the film misses the mark and becomes a bit cheesy or softens the edges of its characters and their circumstances. But I personally think Sing Sing earns its powerful moments of catharsis, primarily through restrained filmmaking and an extraordinary performance by Colman Domingo (let this be the rallying cry of his Oscar campaign!). This movie has moments that allude to the horrific injustices of our penal system. But it is not ultimately about the justice system or the details of life in prison. If that’s what you’re looking for, it’ll disappoint. Instead, the film’s main focus clearly is, first, showing the dignity and personhood of these men, and second, how art is a beautiful and necessary means for building hope, dignity, and imagination. 

As a Christian, while watching the film and observing these themes, I couldn’t help but reflect on the concept of Redemptive Imagination. I don’t think I’ve seen a movie that illustrates the concept as perfectly as this one.

What is Redemptive Imagination? It is an imagination which is being redeemed through the work of the Holy Spirit. Whether you think of yourself as creative or not, everyone has an imagination that is constantly at work. We use our imaginations, yes, for artistic endeavors, like writing, creating visual art, making music, and much more. But we also use them to anticipate scenarios and situations we may encounter. Imagination feeds our anxieties, but also can stir in us bravery, passion, love, and action. Our imaginations and memories are entangled in a dance of fact and fiction. Our imaginations fill in the gaps created by the mysteries and uncertainties of our lives. Imagination is not a fleeting fancy, useless daydreaming that only the idle enjoy. Our imaginations have a serious, material impact on our day-to-day lives. Used well, our imagination builds greater realities. Used poorly, it destroys. But it is always being used. What takes up the most space in your imagination is the greatest indicator of what you love the most. 

Being a Christian means I have signed my allegiance over to God, but that’s just the beginning. I call Christ my Savior, but my heart, mind, and body continually rebel against what I know God wants for me. I am a person divided– both sinner and saint. As Paul writes in Romans, “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate… For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out” (7:15,18). I am forgiven and loved by God, justified by the blood of Christ. That can never be taken from me. But now the work of the Holy Spirit is sanctification, the process of forming me more and more into the likeness of Christ, restoring me to full personhood, where my soul and my flesh will not be divided and at war anymore.

If my imagination is the war room in which the deepest passions of my heart are created, revealed, and acted upon, is that not the best place for the Holy Spirit to invade? If He can influence my imagination, then so much of me– my creative urges, my ambitions and dreams, my worldview and interpretations of circumstances– will be brought under His power. My imagination is, after all, a beautiful gift from God, first used in Eden by Adam to name the animals. It is a gift that has been led astray, but now can be transformed back to its original glory.

So what does a redeemed imagination in action look like? Here are some examples.

The tension of living as a sinner-saint is often exhausting. I swing from feeling like I am God’s gift to humanity, to feeling inhuman and unworthy of anything. On my pharisaical days, my redeemed imagination reminds me of Jesus, and his example humbles me and reminds me of how I need Him so desperately. On days when I feel the crushing weight of my sin and weakness, my redemptive imagination reminds me that God is making me into a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), and even angels long to understand His love and redemptive plan for me (1 Peter 1:12). 

When my fellow church member annoys me. My regular imagination decides there is ill will behind their awkwardness and eccentricities. My imagination makes excuses for me to avoid them, and see them as less than myself. But a redeemed imagination remembers they are also made in the image of God, an eternal being like myself. A redeemed imagination tries to picture what understandable, sympathetic reasons could make them act the way they do. A redeemed imagination makes me consider how I could treat them more tenderly and how I could picture us as members of the same family. 

A redemptive imagination helps me anticipate heaven with joy and excitement. It also helps me see with more clarity the important work to be done on Earth. Imagining what God is doing on Earth to bring about the Kingdom of Heaven helps me live more intentionally, but not put my ultimate hope in this world.

Finally, a redemptive imagination helps me see God’s invisible work all around me. Those repeated run-ins with my neighbor no longer look like a coincidence: What kind of relationships might God be calling me to foster with her? How do I love her better? The messy period of my life where everything went wrong and I was at my worst? That is not the end. With a redemptive imagination, I can begin to try to understand and believe– although maybe not fully, maybe not in this lifetime– that there is a bigger story at work that is redeeming these failures and sufferings. 

We participate in the work of crafting our imaginations every day. The media we consume dramatically informs our imagination. The stories we tell about ourselves and others reveal the narrative scripts we believe we are living out (Am I the hero here? Am I a victim? Is this a comedy? Is it a tragedy?). Our daily work, where we live, our cultural moment, our hobbies and interests, and so many more influences, are always informing our imagination. 

In Sing Sing, the theater program is a place where the inmates cultivate a redemptive imagination for their lives. Some ways this happens in the film:

A character refers to Divine G as the n-word. Divine G stops him, telling him that here, they don’t use that word. Instead, they call each other “Beloved.” Throughout the movie, the men refer to each other as Beloved. Their imaginations have changed. They are beholding one another more deeply and profoundly. It is a world that uses the n-word that is out of touch with the truth. Their redeemed imaginations allow them to actually see reality: that every person is, indeed, Beloved.

Divine G allows another man, Divine Eye (played by Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, playing a version of himself) to join the theater program. Divine Eye is a rough character, coming in with a big attitude and aggression that threatens to hurt the hard-won sanctity of the program. But Divine G sees artistry in Divine Eye, the potential for tenderness and talent and beauty that Divine Eye can’t even see in himself yet. And over the course of the film, being a part of the program does bring that out of Divine Eye. What made Divine G take a chance on Divine Eye? A redeemed imagination. 

When he joins the program, Divine Eye suggests the troupe perform, for the first time, a comedy. So they write a comedy– a time-jumping, hilariously idiosyncratic, imaginative play that includes Egyptian pharaohs, gladiators, cowboys, Freddie Kruger, Hamlet, and more. These men are in prison. Many will never be released or go home again. They will be forgotten. Their stories seem tragic. But in this exercise of imagination, they turn themselves into the heroes of a comedy. They act out, in essence, the idea that my life may look like a tragedy, but that’s not the whole story.

In church, when we sing hymns, I rarely feel all the words. When we sing “It is well with my soul,” in the moment, I almost never feel like it is well with my soul. But I sing those words not as some kind of lie, but to live into them. I am using my imagination to identify with something that is perhaps not yet true about me, but will be with the work of the Holy Spirit. My imagination clings to these words and my identity begins to take shape around them, because the passions of my heart now have something to be affixed to. When the inmates in Sing Sing play these roles, they are living into what is not yet true about themselves, but one day, will be. They are not heroic, victorious figures. And they are not free yet. But one day they will be. Maybe not on this side of heaven. But their story is ultimately a comedy, not a tragedy, because one day, we will all be free and home again.

Not everyone is made for community theater, but we are all artists. Whether your medium is the stage, the written word, the canvas, the home, the spreadsheet, the office building, the city, the church, the school, the hospital, the friendship, the family, the neighborhood, and everything and anywhere in-between, our imaginations are at work. Whether we are inmates at Sing Sing or live lives of freedom and comfort, we are all, with Creation, waiting to “be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” (Roman 8:21). As we await that ultimate emancipation, we use our imaginations to hold tightly to this deeper reality.

-Madeleine D.

Thelma

They say aging isn’t for the faint of heart.

93-year-old Thelma Post (June Squibb) knows that all too well. Her days are spent trying to placate her anxious and overbearing daughter and son-and-law (Parker Posey and Clark Gregg), assuring them of her ability to stay independent and live in her own house. Her grandson Danny (Fred Hechinger) worries about her as well, but he’s also a kindred spirit. At 24 and struggling to find a job or purpose, he too feels the weight of his parent’s concerns that he’s unable to do anything for himself. 

When Thelma is tricked by a phone scammer out of $10,000, she’s embarrassed, and her family worries she might be losing it. But Thelma, inspired by movies like Mission Impossible, hatches a scheme to go get the money back. 

Turns out being an action hero isn’t for the faint of heart, either.

I’ll just go out and say it: this is my favorite film of 2024 so far. No reason to beat around the bush. Thelma is an absolute delight from start to finish, and I think you should see it. 

June Squibb carries the film effortlessly. It is wonderful (and infuriating) that she gets this kind of a lead role for the first time in her 90s. Thelma is multidimensional: funny without being the joke, stubborn without being a caricature, grandmotherly while still feeling distinct. We rarely get to see wrinkles on the big screen, let alone have a main character who is elderly (and is allowed to look her age), and even less so who are protagonists, active agents in a story that embraces the complexities of aging while also telling a story beyond just that fact. 

Thelma is also an ode to intergenerational friendships, as Danny and Thelma’s bond is the emotional core of the film. They graciously learn from each other and push each other in ways that are so much more interesting than the stereotypical “old people need help with technology and young people need common sense!” (although there is certainly a bit of that). They both feel trapped and overly-coddled. They both are navigating an increasingly hostile world. Could this movie singlehandedly repair the rift that “Ok, Boomer” has created between the Greatest Generation and Gen Z? (Probably not, but one can dream!) I was very impressed with Fred Hechinger’s performance, as he is able to play out Danny’s character arc without ever drawing attention away from Squibb, and plays off of all of the adult actors beautifully. 

The other great dynamic of the film (although Posey and Gregg are definitely a close runner-up) is between Thelma and Ben (Richard Roundtree), an old friend that Thelma’s not even particularly fond of, until she needs to steal his motorscooter for her quest. He ends up accompanying her, and they develop a witty-yet-tender rapport. This was Roundtree’s last performance, following his death last year, and it’s a role he performs with fitting nobility and gravitas. 

Beyond the performances and story, the other best thing about Thelma is how the movie plays with action movie cliches in ways that I don’t want to spoil, but I’ll say that they are all very clever, and it is rewarding whether you enjoy that genre and catch all the jokes or not. These moments never turn the movie into a parody or spoof, they just add some nice texture and pizzazz. 

Thelma is funny, a tight 90-minutes, has a phenomenal ensemble, and offers thoughtful reflections on aging and family. You won’t want to miss it. 

-Madeleine D.

Inside Out 2

Apparently, it is the summer of sequels to movies from 2015! A few weeks ago, we got Furiosa, and this past weekend, we got Inside Out 2

When Inside Out was released, it was heralded as a return to form for Pixar, which had just come off a run of films (Monsters University, Brave, Cars 2) that were not as universally acclaimed as the studio’s earlier work. Inside Out was praised for its imaginative premise and moving message about how all of our emotions– including sadness– have their place and are important for us to experience. Along with many people, I found it deeply resonant (like the main character Riley, I saw the film soon after moving to a new city) and it was a certified tearjerker. It became an instant classic. 

Now, nearly ten years later, the sequel arrives, also on the heels of another lackluster run for Pixar (Elemental, Lightyear, Turning Red, Luca). And with the state of this summer’s box office, this film has a lot riding on it. Will Inside Out 2 rescue theaters? (turns out, yes!) Will it be a refreshing return to form for Pixar? Will it live up to the original? And will it, like the original, make me cry???

Inside Out 2 fast forwards one year to Riley as a thirteen-year-old, heading to a summer hockey camp, with the hope of impressing the coach and players on the high school team. This new experience, as well as the onset of puberty, means new emotions, so Joy and the original emotions– Anger, Disgust, Fear, and Sadness– find themselves face to face with the likes of Ennui, Embarrassment, Envy, and the most powerful one of them all: Anxiety. When Anxiety’s efforts lead her to exile the original emotions to the back of Riley’s subconscious, Joy and the gang must fight to get back to the control room and stop Anxiety from hurting Riley. 

While the first film focused on Joy coming to terms with the helpfulness and value of Sadness, in this one, she has learned her lesson and readily accepts the new emotions. Cleverly, the conflict comes then from the group learning how to manage Anxiety and turn her into a force for good, rather than destruction. The film also explores Riley’s core belief in herself. Riley goes from believing full-heartedly that she is a “good person” to, as Anxiety takes over, believing that she’s “not good enough.” In the end, Riley’s core belief morphs into realizing that she, like her emotions, are complex. She can be a good friend at times and a bad friend sometimes. Sometimes she’s capable, sometimes she’s not. She is not her emotions, but she is responsible for what she does with those emotions, both good and bad. But even with all of these contradictions, she can still be loved and accepted by others. 

So yes, I did cry at this revelation. So did my friend I saw it with, and, I suspect, many other adults in the theater. And while the little kids I had in my theater seemed engaged with the movie, like the original, I think the prime age is tween/young teenager and up.

On a craftsmanship level, Inside Out 2 makes the most of the opportunity to imagine new parts of Riley’s brain. There are a few scenes where the film features characters with different animation styles, which the animators clearly are having a lot of fun with. Occasionally the wordplay borders on being an exercise in cleverness rather than helpful to the story, but most are used very well (“sarchasm” and “stream of consciousness” are standout sequences). And of course, the voice work continues to be excellent. Amy Poehler shines in the role of Joy, and Maya Hawke is a wonderful addition as Anxiety. After this and seeing her earlier this year in Wildcat, I’m very impressed with her range. 

Despite the themes of Inside Out 2 being interesting evolutions from that of the original, the plot, feel, and beats of the movie play out very similarly to the first, in a way that feels a little too safe, even if it is effective. I did not test this, but I suspect watching both movies back to back may be a bit tiresome because they are so similar. But having had a break between them, it’s fun to go back into this world, and to appreciate the creativity and imagination of this metaphor for the mind. I don’t think this sequel captures the same lightning in a bottle as the first. However, the premise is so strong, and Pixar has a baseline standard of excellence that elevates even its weakest projects. These elements combined means Inside Out 2 is just too appealing to resist. 

In the end, I think Inside Out 2 will be remembered as one of Pixar’s best sequels, but not its most original or ambitious. (It’s also perfectly engineered to keep making Inside Out movies for as long as they want to/need cash). Whether you want a laugh, a cry, an existential crisis, a good time, or some substantial entertainment for kids, Inside Out 2 has something for everyone.

-Madeleine D.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

In 2015, Mad Max: Fury Road won six out of ten Oscar nominations, and, maybe more impressively, won the acclaim of fans and critics alike who respected the film’s craftsmanship, stunt work, acting, and moving storyline. Charlize Theron was universally picked as a highlight for her performance as Furiosa, a warrior who teams up with Max to free Immortan Joe’s harem of wives. 

Now, nearly ten years later, director George Miller gives us a prequel to Fury Road centered on Furiosa, although recast with Anya Taylor-Joy. The film follows Furiosa as a young girl (played impressively by Alyla Browne) as she is kidnapped by the crazed warlord, Dementus (Chris Hemsworth). Years later, once free from Dementus, Furiosa sets out on an epic journey to enact her revenge, and to find her way back home. 

Miller specializes in spectacle, and like Fury Road, this is a spectacle through and through. The action sequences are inventive (they never run out of interesting ways to use a car!) and the worldbuilding remains detailed and unique. The costumes and production design keep you immersed in this grotesque, bizarre world. The movie plays out in five chapters, adding to its grandiose feel, and the cinematography has a certain sheen to it that reminded me of a video game or comic book art style. It all succeeds in making you feel like you’ve been on a fantastical, if vile, journey. 

But is this a journey worth taking? While Furiosa certainly has pizzaz, I overall found it to be a letdown, an unrelentingly bleak exercise that doesn’t succeed in the same ways Fury Road does. Here is why:

First, in screenwriting, the conventional wisdom is that every scene should start with one emotion, and then end with another emotion. The conflict(s) within the scene should shift the character’s emotions, or the atmospheric mood. Stories and character arcs are built through this series of conflicts and turns. There should also be a use of contrast, where scenes of brevity, joy, or success are followed by more dramatic turns in the story. The moments of relief make the moments of suffering (and vice versa) all the more powerful.

In Furiosa, except for maybe two scenes where Furiosa is shown some bit of kindness, every scene is a deluge of bleak violence where everyone is trying to kill each other and no one expresses an emotion outside of stoic rage or deranged rage. There is no relief, and therefore, no contrast. I assume the intended effect is to get us into the despairing, survivalist mindset of Furiosa, but instead, it numbs us, and makes the story beats blend together without momentum. 

Second, there are no character arcs. No one changes in the film. Furiosa goes from a resourceful, brave child to a resourceful, brave adult. Her goal remains the same throughout the movie, and so do her methods. As a heroine, she is archetypal, but not individualized. That’s fine as an artistic choice, but it means this isn’t the insightful character drama one might hope for. Likewise, Dementus never changes. Joe never changes. No other character gets enough time to make a deep impression, and none of the characters interact long enough to have a real dynamic. Dementus and Furiosa interact when she is a child, but then they are separated for most of the movie until the very end. Furiosa’s love interest, Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke), is on screen for maybe 40 minutes, but then he’s gone and we don’t see the impact he has made on Furiosa.

Meanwhile, in Fury Road, Max and Furiosa learn to work together and trust one another. We see Furiosa mourn the loss of The Green Place. We see the wives and Nux interact. The characters interact in interesting ways and they change, which in turn makes the action more interesting to the audience because there are emotional stakes behind it. This is why I think Fury Road ultimately works better.

Despite all of these shortcomings in the script, I do think Furiosa is worth seeing if you really enjoy the Mad Max films and/or love action movies. The setpieces truly are impressive, and George Miller continues to take big creative swings. The film also lets Anya Taylor-Joy show more of her range, and it features a great Chris Hemsworth performance, allowing him to display a menacing bravado that may give his career a new life outside of being Thor. It wasn’t my cup of tea, and I think it doesn’t live up to Fury Road, but for some, there may be life in this wasteland.

Monkey Movie Spring!

Within the past two months, we have gotten three high-profile films featuring monkeys. In Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire, we see King Kong, the giant ape kaiju, fight/occasionally team up with the equally giant lizard kaiju Godzilla. In Monkey Man, Dev Patel plays not a literal monkey, but a fighter who uses a monkey mask that resembles Hanuman, a half-monkey, half-human Hindu deity. And in Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, we get a whole lot of apes– a kingdom full, in fact– rising up as they continue to take over the Earth from the disappearing human race. 

To help us navigate this Monkey Movie Spring, I’ll be going through each movie to share my thoughts and analysis, as well as give each movie a number on a scale of one to ten regarding how monkey-centric it is. We’ll answer questions like, Is Monkey Man Dev Patel’s big breakthrough? Does Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes live up to its predecessor trilogy? Is Godzilla x Kong a new peak for monster cinema? Are these films worth your time? Or are they just… monkeying around? 

Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire 

There is no reason to see this film if you do not already have interest in it. You are not missing out on anything. If you want to see a good kaiju movie, watch Godzilla Minus One, and if you want a goofy monster movie, watch Venom. However, if you have any affinity for these movies already, I do think this makes improvements upon the last film in this franchise, Godzilla vs Kong. For one, the human cast is paired down significantly to focus on Rebecca Hall and Kaylee Hottle (whose adopted mother-daughter subplot feels directly torn from the Jurassic World films), with a big assist from Brian Tyree Henry, and the addition of a very-game Dan Stevens. Godzilla x Kong keeps the plot more simple: Kong and his home are in trouble, Godzilla must help. And, it leans more into the absurdity of the fights, turning Godzilla and Kong’s tussles into something akin to an extravagant MMA fight with a sprinkling of Marvel superhero action. It does exactly what it aims to do, and succeeds at being a silly, fun time.

Monkey Movie Rating: 4/10 – While Kong is the primary character, and we do get several additional monkey characters, ultimately, this is not a rich exploration of the monkey experience. 

Monkey Man

Dev Patel is one of our best working actors today, yet he rarely has gotten material that is on his level. With Monkey Man, he creates his own opportunity through co-writing, producing, directing, and starring in this revenge story about an unnamed protagonist (simply called “Kid”) who seeks revenge on the man who killed his mother and massacred his village. 

The film has been compared by many to John Wick, which I have not seen. So while I can’t speak to that, I can say the action here is inventive, brutal, and compelling- at least, the 50% of it I saw between covering my eyes with my hands because of said brutality. 

The story is admirably ambitious, weaving together references to political corruption, religious violence, personal trauma, poverty, and oppression. The movie clearly condemns the Indian caste system, and centers marginalized people as the heroes of the story. There is a righteous anger pulsing through the film, and often used to great effect in the action sequences. 

Another thing that sets it apart is the use of the Hanuman mythology. Not only is Hanuman the deity that Kid draws inspiration from in his fighting, but the story beats, very loosely, play out aspects of the Hanuman lore. I saw the film with an Indian friend, who loved the story of Hanuman growing up and was delighted with how the film used the character. Her insight into the film, telling me things I either didn’t catch or didn’t know, was incredibly helpful in making me appreciate the movie more. However, because the movie itself doesn’t explain all of this to the audience, and its use of the Hanuman lore is somewhat abstract, I think most Western viewers won’t catch the deeper layers of the story, meaning that the film’s most accessible aspects are its most basic. 

In the end, I ultimately agree with the New York Times review of the film by Manohla Dargis, who writes, “Patel gestures at the real world and folds in some mythology, but these elements only create expectations for a complex story that never emerges.” I don’t think the story is able to fully elevate those references into something subversive to this genre, which results in a movie that has a very distinct setting and feel, but only leaves you with a very straightforward revenge tale with overly-familiar story beats. What Monkey Man is best at is its visceral fights, the stunning cinematography, and Patel’s acting. If he doesn’t immediately get better work off of this, I might just pick up a Hanuman mask and head to some Hollywood offices myself.

Monkey Movie Rating: 6/10 – While it does not actually depict monkeys, Monkey Man does a lot for prestige monkey representation. Along with the title and references to Hanuman, this movie has an anarchist, feral spirit that honors its titular animal. 

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

The Rise, Dawn, and War for the Planet of the Apes films are some of the greatest science fiction films of the recent past, powerfully led by Andy Serkis as Caesar. But even though those films are excellent, I was wary of this new installment in the franchise. I imagined the premise would be something trite, like, “Here’s a new ape who is Caesar’s grandson or something, struggling under the weight of his family’s legacy.” Thankfully though, Kingdom does something much more interesting.

Set generations after Caesar’s death, when apes are continuing to rapidly evolve and the few remaining humans on Earth have either gone underground or have become animalistic, we follow a young ape named Noa (a very impressive Owen Teagues) who is a part of a small clan of apes who practice falconry. An ape named Proximus attacks and captures his clan in order to build his own kingdom, set on destroying the remaining humans and gaining their knowledge. With the help of a human girl named Mae (Freya Allan), a devout disciple of Caesar named Raka (Peter Macon, also excellent), and some other allies, Noa faces Proximus to free his clan. 

The Caesar trilogy was memorable for the way it leaned into allusion and allegory (Caesar is Moses! Caesar is Christ! We’re referencing the Civil Rights Movement! We’re referencing the Holocaust! We’re referencing Vietnam! We’re referring to the border wall and immigration!). Kingdom does not do this. Instead, it focuses on being a more intimate, small-scale character drama, giving Noa a very classic Jungian character arc. But within this subtler framework, it continues the franchise’s questions about the blurry line between humanity and the apes. Can they coexist? Should they? This franchise continues to hold my interest in these questions and how it explores them. 

The only real criticism I have for Kingdom is that I found it to be poorly paced. In a two and a half hour long film, it takes us about an hour and a half to meet our main villain. The introduction and inciting incident of the village raid could, in my estimation, have been about fifteen minutes shorter and have been just as effective. Likewise, the next rambling hour of road-tripping with Raka and Mae could have been significantly cut down, especially since there isn’t a lot of character building for Mae in this section. The final act is dramatic and interesting, but is now far too short after all of this build-up. A tighter run time with a few cuts could have kept the momentum of the story going, and made the ending a little more impactful.

In the final moments of the film, we get hints that we’re getting close to the timeline of the 1968 film. There’s enough ambiguity, however, for us to have another film or two in between if we want to keep this story going. So, should we?

I say yes, with a bit of hesitation. It’ll be a tricky act to pull off, to continue this story without redoing beats from the original trilogy, turning Noa into a second Caesar. There’s a lot of ground to cover in getting to the ape society we see depicted in the 1968 film, but that sociological aspect may be harder to do in a blockbuster film. But if the franchise can continue to introduce compelling new characters, as they do here, I’ll continue to be invested. For example, based on the advertising, I thought Mae (Freya Allen) was going to be another silent young girl, a passive plot device meant to represent the redeemable side of humanity. To my surprise, she not only can speak, but ends up being a sly inversion of that trope, and her actions in the final third of the movie are bold and complex. If these movies can keep pulling out tricks like these, they’ll remain something special.

Monkey Movie Score: 10/10 – This is a movie about monkeys: their experiences, their psychology, their culture, history, politics, and hopes and dreams. It has a diverse array of monkey characters. This is the crown jewel of Monkey Movie Spring.

-Madeleine D.

Top Ten Movies of 2023

I know we’re four months into 2024 now, but in my opinion, it’s never too late to do a top-ten movie list! Some of these films only recently hit streaming, so it’s a perfect time before the summer movie season to catch up on some of the best that 2023 had to offer. 

2023 was the year of strikes, streaming, and surprises, with superhero movies across the board flopping at the box office, and Barbie and Oppenheimer creating one of the biggest box office events we’ve seen in years. If my top ten list were to have a theme, though, it would be that of mid-range movies (and foreign films) showing they still have a place in a crowded, blockbuster-centric media market. 

I have not seen: The Iron Claw, Ferrari, Napoleon, Poor Things, Beau is Afraid, Origin, Alice Darling, Saltburn, Polite Society, All of Us Strangers, The Creator, and Flora and Son

10. The Zone of Interest

As I wrote in my analysis of the film’s Oscar chances, The Zone of Interest is one of the most brilliant historical films I’ve ever seen, telling a story about the Holocaust that is unrelenting in its brutality without ever showing any violence on screen. It is confrontational to modern audiences and applicable to modern tragedies as much as it is an examination of the past. It sticks to its guns and is directed with clarity and precision by Jonathan Glazer. 

It’s a testament to this craftsmanship that one of the most powerful moments of the film happens after the movie ends, with the ending credits containing the most disturbing piece of music I’ve ever heard. Listening to it, I felt suffocated, unable to move in my seat as the lights began to rise. It felt like the musical equivalent of a panic attack, “the acoustics of hell”. I have never had that kind of an experience in a movie theater before, and the film completely earned it. The Zone of Interest is a must-see, and I hope its legacy spans far past this year.

9.  Reality

This film, which was only released on Max, tells the true story of Reality Winner (Sydney Sweeney), an NSA translator who was arrested and sentenced in 2017 for leaking intelligence regarding Russia’s interference in the 2016 election. All of the film’s dialogue is verbatim from the FBI interrogation transcripts, and it shows in real-time the arrest of Winner. 

The film’s greatest strength is its acting. Josh Hamilton, who I’ve loved since his role in Eighth Grade, is a scene-stealer as one of the FBI agents. Sydney Sweeney, who has gained a lot of momentum with several other recent projects like Anyone But You, is very impressive here, balancing the ambiguity of Reality’s motivations with the seemingly naive, innocent way she presents herself. What’s most striking about the film is just how… well, real it is. Movies about spies, espionage, political intrigue, and law enforcement are often predictable, overly quippy, and full of tropes. Here, the characters act like real people- awkward attempts to be polite, asking about things like taking care of pets and using the bathroom, and making jokes to ease the tension. And because it is a verbatim transcript, the film also lets the politics speak for itself, in a way that is gripping, refreshing, and unsettling to watch.

8. Priscilla

Sofia Coopola’s sensitive, thoughtful story of Priscilla Presley is a beautiful contrast and companion piece to Baz Lurhamn’s 2022 Elvis biopic (which I also loved). The two could not be more different stylistically, and that’s what makes them a glorious double-feature. 

Some have found Priscilla frustrating, saying it does not help us understand the real-life Priscilla Presley very well. The movie ends, fairly abruptly, once she leaves Elvis. If you are hoping for a true biography of the full life of Priscilla Presley, Coppola does not deliver. But I think Coppola was drawn to this story because of the way Priscilla’s experiences with Elvis touch on so many themes in Coppola’s work: rich women trapped by their wealth, young women coming of age, complicated relationships with older men, the loneliness of all of these things. The Priscilla here is archetypal, even though my experiences are nothing like hers, I saw glimpses of myself, my own life, in hers. Because of this, in another year saturated with biopics, Priscilla stood apart. 

7. Killers of the Flower Moon

As someone from Oklahoma, I am always thrilled to see Oklahoma represented in media, and in the past few years, a few high-profile projects (Reservation Dogs, Tulsa King, the upcoming Twisters) have begun to bring more attention to the state. Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon tells one of the darkest chapters of the state’s (and country’s) history, in this sprawling epic, based on the book by David Grann. 

When I first saw the film, my conclusion was that it was well-made, well-acted, and compelling, but suffered from a lack of focus. The book focuses more on the FBI, and it is structured so that the tragedy unfolds slowly, with the sheer number of murders piling on and on, suffocating the reader and building momentum so it is a big shift and relief when the FBI shows up and the conspiracy begins to be discovered. The movie suffers from not building momentum in this way, leading to a leisurely pace that doesn’t convey the overwhelming nature of this conspiracy to the audience. The film centers on Ernest and Mollie Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio and Lily Gladstone), but drifts away from Mollie about halfway through and struggles to make us connect deeply with any of the other Osage characters. 

I think all of those problems still remain. But as time has passed, the film has lingered with me. I remember the gut-wrenching moments of betrayal between Earnest and Mollie. I think about Martin Scorsese, showing up at the end of the film, indicting both himself and the audience for consuming tragedy for entertainment. I think of the beautiful Oklahoma plains, lovingly filmed, and the depiction of Osage culture that I had never been exposed to before. It has stayed with me in a way some of the other big award films of the year have not. 

It might not be remembered as one of Scorcese’s best, but I do think everyone should (if you have the endurance) see it. 

6. Godzilla Minus One

While Oppenheimer may have been the bigger movie about WWII nuclear warfare and survivor’s guilt, Godzilla Minus One is my personal favorite of the two. This Japanese production gets back to the basics of Godzilla’s origins with a story about a Japanese WWII kamikaze pilot who deserts his mission and survives the war. When Godzilla begins terrorizing Japanese shores, the pilot sees this as his chance to atone for his guilt. 

I’m writing this after seeing Warner Brother’s Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, the fifth film in the “MonsterVerse” franchise. I enjoyed the film- it is exactly the movie you think it is: loud, big, dumb, silly, unnecessary, and a really good time. In Godzilla X Kong, Godzilla is nothing more than an animal. A smart animal, and sometimes even nearly like a superhero. But there is no meaning to Godzilla or his presence- he’s just there to fight other kaiju and be a nuisance to the human world. Meanwhile, Godzilla Minus One tells an emotionally resonant story about its human characters, and is also able to 1) comment on Godzilla as an enduring cultural symbol, 2) make commentary on Japan post-WWII and 3) have a universal theme about choosing to live. It’s a genuinely moving movie that also has impressive action scenes and visual effects (that it won the Oscar for!) Even if you don’t usually enjoy monster/kaiju movies, I think there is something here for everyone. 

5. The Starling Girl

After peaking too early in the year, The Starling Girl lost any chance at awards momentum and has been overlooked by many this year. This is a shame, as it has really stuck with me and remained one of my favorite films of the year. I’ve already written about its thoughtful portrayal of a fundamentalist religious community and the way it captures young women stuck in purity culture. Something that has also come to mind is how, like Priscilla, this also explores questions of agency in an age-gap, imbalanced power-dynamic relationship, from the woman’s perspective, with a female director/writer. Two movies aren’t enough to signal a trend, and they certainly aren’t the first, but I am curious if films like these are connected to the fallout from the #MeToo Movement. Directly after the watershed moment of that movement in late 2017, we had multiple films come out that drew upon the themes of the movement and/or directly showed how it came about, such as Women Talking, She Said, The Invisible Man, Tar, The Assistant, and Bombshell, among others. But now we’re getting some other films which are exploring the grey zone of these dynamics and relationships, less concerned with clarity and condemnation and more with pondering how these relationships happen and what they feel like to the people in them. It’s fascinating to see, and I want to see more movies like The Starling Girl get made. 

4. The Teacher’s Lounge

In a less competitive year for international features, The Teacher’s Lounge would have won the Oscar. This German drama about a middle school teacher (an astounding Leonie Benesch) whose effort to solve the mystery of theft in her school blows up into a full-out war between students and faculty, is a parable about our current moment. Questions of surveillance, censorship, the media, cancel culture, and multiculturalism all play out in a 7th-grade classroom. The movie is tense, thought-provoking, and incredibly well-written, acted, and directed. I cannot recommend it highly enough. 

3. Master Gardener

This is one of the strangest films of the year. I don’t understand what writer/director Paul Schrader was thinking or going for here (although I sure did try!) and, unlike the two other films in his “Man in the Room” trilogy, I’m still not sure if it’s actually good. But I saw this film in July, and it’s remained compelling to me since. It’s provocatively weird and uncomfortably earnest, and I’ll always admire a film that goes for it, even if the “it” is a bit baffling. 

2. Past Lives

The directorial debut by Celine Song, Past Lives is a meditative drama about a Korean-Canadian woman who reconnects with her childhood crush, and wrestles between her desires about what could have been with him, and her marriage to an American man.

What’s remarkable about Past Lives, beyond its lush cinematography and excellent cast, is how it is able to tell a specific, unique story about Asian-Canadian/American immigration and being torn between cultures, and also a universal story about unmet desires, regrets, and layered, unexplainable relationships. I thought about dozens of people watching Past Lives: my childhood best friends, my what ifs, the people I’ve met recently who I wish I could have known as children, my family and the pain of being apart from them, and the feeling of being in a place where no one is from where you grew up, so they’ll never really know that part of you. This film elicited a deeply emotional response from me, and I can’t imagine it wouldn’t do the same to anyone else. 

There are other layers here that I love, well put in this review by Brett McCracken. While the film didn’t win either of its Oscar nominations, I hope the recognition it did get will ensure that we see more from Celine Song; she’s a talent to watch.

1. The Holdovers

It’s rare that I see a movie and immediately know the next time I’m going to rewatch it. But before I even finished The Holdovers, I knew I was going to watch it again the following holiday season, and hopefully, for many holiday seasons to come. Even beyond its retro ‘70s aesthetic, The Holdovers feels timeless, and I think that comes from its disarming sincerity. From the trailer, you know exactly what you’re getting: a Christmas tale about a group of curmudgeonly misfits bonding together. And for the most part, the movie tells that story completely straight, without a hint of irony, a dramatic twist, or any undercutting of the emotional beats. As I watched the film, I kept expecting the film to take a more cynical turn, or shy away from the more melodramatic moments. But it never did. The film is not at all boring or predictable to watch- there are many unexpected story points and the way the characters develop is nuanced and engrossing- but the movie doesn’t try to subvert expectations. But by telling its story so well, it somehow does that anyway. Next time you’re feeling a bit melancholy and need good company, give The Holdovers a shot.

Honorable Mentions:

Nyad, Theater Camp, Next Goal Wins, Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse, Haunted Mansion (look, I liked it!!!), You Hurt My Feelings, May December, Anatomy of a Fall, The Color Purple, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margret, and The Deepest Breath

Worst movies of the year: Ant-Man: Quantumania, Foe, & My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3

The Real Winner of the Year: Music in movies. This year we got the likes of

  • “I’m Just Ken,” from Barbie
  • “Peaches” from Super Mario Bros Movie
  • All the songs in The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
  • “Wild Uncharted Waters” from The Little Mermaid
  • The musical adaptation of The Color Purple
  • The musical planet in The Marvels
  • “Camp Isn’t Home” from Theater Camp
  • Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour and Renaissance: A Film by Beyonce in theaters 

Runner up: Fantastic new young actors! We had Dominic Sessa in The Holdovers, Abby Ryder Fortson in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, Leonard Stettnisch in The Teacher’s Lounge, and Milo Machado Graner in Anatomy of a Fall. I hope to see all of them again soon.

– Madeleine D.

A Guide to the 2024 Best Picture Nominees

The Oscar nominees are out, and while you might have heard quite a bit about the various snubs (was Greta Gerwig robbed?!) you might not have heard as much about some of the actual nominees. For that, I offer up this guide to the ten Best Picture nominees and give you some background on the nominees, an evaluation of their awards chances, and my own thoughts on the films. I hope this guide can help you in your journey of winning your Oscar ballot and beating all of your friends appreciating this great year of cinema. 

American Fiction

American Fiction stars Jeffery Wright as Monk Ellison, an author fed up with the publishing industry’s treatment of Black writers and literature. He swears not to stoop to the levels of artistic degradation he sees in his contemporaries, yet when his estranged family faces several crises, in desperation, he writes a novel that embodies everything he hates. When it becomes an unexpected success, Monk finds his life spiraling as he tries to keep up his lie. 

The film received five nominations: Best Picture, Best Actor for Jeffrey Wright, Best Supporting Actor for Sterling K. Brown, Best Original Score, and Best Adapted Screenplay by Cord Jefferson (based on the book Erasure by Percival Everett). This is also Jefferson’s directorial debut. While the trailers make this seem like a full-on comedy (and there are some very funny scenes of satire), the majority of the film is actually a serious family drama. 

It is unlikely that American Fiction will win in any of its categories due to bigger contenders. Its best chance is Adapted Screenplay, which tends to reward more experimental films that don’t win best picture but are highly respected (such as last year’s Women Talking, 2019’s JoJo Rabbit, 2018’s BlacKkKlansman, 2017’s Call Me By Your Name). I think American Fiction’s greatest competition in that category is Barbie. There doesn’t seem to be much momentum for American Fiction yet, but perhaps the film can rally and secure that win. 

I personally didn’t enjoy American Fiction as much as I wanted to. I think Jefferson has a lot of interesting ideas and a few of them are brilliantly executed, but only a few of them. I think the movie buckles under the weight of too many threads and ideas that aren’t fully explored or resolved. I also found the family drama a bit stilted. While I don’t know if this role as Monk’s brother is his best role, I love Sterling K. Brown and would be thrilled for an upset win for him, although he is in what may be the most competitive category of the whole ceremony. Jeffrey Wright is also excellent and very deserving, although he is up against Cillian Murphy and Paul Giamatti, so a win is very unlikely. While it might not walk away with anything, I do hope this gives Jefferson’s career momentum so he can make another film. He’s certainly a filmmaker to watch and I look forward to his next project. 

Anatomy of a Fall

Anatomy of a Fall, one of two international features on this list, is a French drama about a writer (Sandra Hüller, who also stars in The Zone of Interest) who is accused of pushing her husband to his death out of a window, a crime to which their blind son is the only witness. The film is half family-drama, half-court drama, with explorations of gender politics, marriage, and morality. And, like American Fiction, it is about a writer and the level of identification an artist may or may not feel with their material, and if we can morally judge a writer for what they write. The entire cast here is excellent. Milo Machado Graner, who plays the son, is a wonderful discovery; I hope he gets more work. While at times slow, the film ended up grabbing me with the careful way the pieces of the puzzle are unveiled in this compelling mystery.

It is nominated in four other categories: Best Actress for Sandra Hüller, Best Director for Justine Triet, Film Editing, and Original Screenplay. It is unusual that it is not nominated for Best International Feature (the reason why is quite a saga), but even if it were, it would have still been competing against fellow Best Picture nominee The Zone of Interest and dark-horse contender Society of the Snow. In the end, I don’t think Anatomy of a Fall will take home any awards. It did win Best Screenplay at the Golden Globes, so that would be my strongest guess for a win, but I think if the Academy takes a democratic approach this year, they’ll use this screenplay category to reward The Holdovers or Past Lives. It would be a shame for it to not get any wins, but I’m glad it is getting the attention it deserves with the nominations. 

Barbie

Barbie was one of the most talked-about films of the year, breaking multiple box office records and being widely well-received and reviewed. If you somehow didn’t know, it is about Barbie (yes the toy doll) leaving Barbieland and going into the real world and fighting the patriarchy.

Despite its success, there has been a noticeable souring towards the film, starting with Jo Koy’s comments on the film in his Golden Globes monologue. Then the nominations came out and there was an uproar about the perceived snubs of Greta Gerwig for director and Margot Robbie for Best Actress, particularly in light of Ryan Gosling’s Best Supporting Actor nomination as Ken (ignoring that America Ferrera did get a Best Supporting Actress nomination). Then there was a backlash to the backlash, saying the uproar over the snubs distracts from Ferrera’s success and they are not really snubs. I think all of the talk has made it much harder to predict how Barbie will end up faring– will Academy voters, sick of the drama, ignore the film? Or will they feel bad for Gerwig and Robbie and award the film? Do they see the box office and critical acclaim as enough? 

I enjoyed Barbie (and I particularly enjoyed the “Barbenheimer” phenomenon), but it did not move me deeply. But it did truly move and capture the imaginations of many people I know, men and women alike, and it created ongoing conversations about feminism, film, and the history of Barbie toys and pop-culture significance the whole year. I think there is something deeply impressive in that. Regarding the perceived snubs, I do not think Robbie was snubbed. I think she gave a great performance that grounded the movie, but I think her biggest contribution to the film was her work as a producer, for which she is recognized with the best picture nomination. 

As for Gerwig, I think there is an interesting contrast in how Christopher Nolan and Greta Gerwig have been treated in terms of being considered “auteurs.” The narrative around Oppenheimer has been incredibly Nolan-centric, focusing on his love of cinema, and how he did not compromise on his desire to use certain filming techniques, to shoot on film, and to use practical effects. This is his magnum opus. Meanwhile, the narrative around Barbie has been much more democratic, with Gerwig and Robbie giving much praise to their cast and to each other. However, I would argue Barbie is as distinctly directed as Oppenheimer, with its successful elements very indebted to Gerwig’s artistic point of view and themes that can be seen in her earlier works of Little Women and Lady Bird (yes Nolan has been working a lot longer, but also Gerwig has only made three films and all of them have been nominated for best picture). While Gerwig certainly received praise for Barbie, I have to wonder if the narrative around the film had been more focused on her, if that would have helped her be seen as an auteur worth recognizing.

That being said, she still has other shots at winning an award. Outside of Best Picture and the Supporting Actor and Actress, it was nominated for Costume Design, two Best Original songs for “What Was I Made For,” and “I’m Just Ken,” Production Design, and Best Adapted Screenplay for Gerwig and Noah Baumbach. My hunch is that Barbie will get a few of the technical awards, and one of the songs (I think “I’m Just Ken” should win, but “What Was I Made For” is also excellent and probably feels more respectable to the Academy). I think it is in a neck-and-neck race against American Fiction for screenplay, with maybe the perceived snubs meaning people will choose Gerwig to make up for the slight. If Barbie goes home empty-handed, there will be plenty of commentary on whether it was because of misogyny or not. But it is worth considering that the Academy has a history of not rewarding films that are big blockbusters, which Barbie certainly was. But as long as Ryan Gosling performs “I’m Just Ken,” at least we, the audience, will be winners. 

The Holdovers

Full transparency: The Holdovers is my favorite film of the year. The story of a curmudgeonly teacher at a New England boarding school who bonds with a student and a cook left over the winter break is perfectly and sincerely made. I can see myself watching it for holidays to come. Initially, the buzz around its debut at Telluride made it seem for a moment like it was the Best Picture frontrunner, but its awards momentum has since dwindled, although it remains a favorite among many.

While it has nominations for picture, Film Editing, and Original Screenplay, it is in the actor and supporting actress categories that the film has the strongest chance. Paul Giamatti won the Golden Globe for the film in the musical or comedy category, as did Da’Vine Joy Randolph for supporting. However, Giamatti will now be going up against Cillian Murphy for Oppenheimer, who won the Golden Globe for drama. This is a classic toss-up: will the Oscars want to award a long career like Giamatti, or an exciting (relatively new-ish) up-and-comer like Cillian Murphy? My bet is on Murphy, but I think we’ll only really be able to tell where the momentum is close to the ceremony. 

 Randolph’s main competition should be Danielle Brooks, who accomplished something in The Color Purple that I will never forget– truly a lightning bolt of a performance. However, I did love Randolph’s work here, and The Color Purple’s award chances have significantly fallen, and with that, Brook’s opportunity. Otherwise, America Ferrera is the dark horse contender if the Academy rallies around Barbie. I don’t see The Holdovers going home completely empty-handed though, between Giamatti and Randolph. And it shouldn’t- go see it!

Killers of the Flower Moon

Martin Scorsese’s epic about the murder of the Osage in 1920s Oklahoma scored ten nominations, including Best Director, Robert De Niro for Best Supporting Actor, Lily Gladstone for Best Actress, Cinematography, Costume Design, Editing, Score, Original Song (“Wahzhazhe (A song for my People)”), and Production Design. Leonardo DiCaprio was notably snubbed, after receiving a Best Actor nom from the Golden Globes.

The film’s best shot seems to be Lily Gladstone, who won the Golden Globe in the drama category, but she faces fierce competition from Emma Stone for Poor Things, who won the Golden Globe in the musical/comedy section. Stone has already won an Oscar (for La La Land), and there seems to be a strong push for Gladstone, making her my choice. The second best guess would be a director win for Scorsese, although all signs are pointing towards Christopher Nolan.

Most award seasons tend to have a movie that garners tons of nominations and acclaim but walks away empty-handed (including Scorsese’s own Gangs of New York and The Irishman, both films with over 10 noms but no wins). If Gladstone doesn’t win, that could be this film’s fate, which I think would be a shame. While I feel there were some structural issues in the film that weakened the momentum of the story, in comparison to the book, and the effort to center the Osage people derailed by Marty’s love of gangster stories and Leonardo Dicaprio, I think the film overall was incredibly powerful, well-told, and memorable. 

Maestro

Maestro, a biopic about the life of composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein, and written, directed, and starring Bradley Cooper, has been a strange film in the awards race. There seems to be an air of obligation around its nominations, with the general sense being that yes, this is a very well-made film about an important subject, and Cooper swings for the fences, and Carey Mulligan is very good…but also isn’t it a little obnoxious how self-important and perfectly awards-tuned this film is? Doesn’t it sometimes border on feeling like a sketch about an award-winning film? I’ve yet to hear anyone say Maestro is their favorite film of the year. It all makes me wonder if Maestro actually has enough support from the Academy to garner a win, especially after not taking anything home at the Golden Globes and the snub of Cooper for director.

It’s nominated in seven categories, with Cooper and Mulligan for lead actor and actress, Cinematography, Makeup and Hairstyling, Sound, and Original Screenplay. I would gladly give it Cinematography, I think that is the best part of the film and representative of its technical brilliance, but even that seems unlikely, as does any other win. I’m not heartbroken over this; while there are moments I appreciated in the movie and I think the lead performances are indeed excellent, the film was confusingly structured and I walked away not feeling like I understood Bernstein’s career, his marriage, or his inner life well. It felt like the movie was so concerned with being grand that it forgot to be good.

Oppenheimer

Oppenheimer has garnered the most nominations with thirteen. My prediction, based on its Golden Globe wins and buzz, is that it will win six of them: Director for Christopher Nolan, Best Actor for Cillian Murphy, Robert Downey Jr. for Best Supporting, Cinematography, Film Editing, and Score. I do not think it will win Best Supporting Actress for Emily Blunt (a nomination that puzzles me; Blunt did her best with the material but I didn’t find the role or her casting to be unique or revelatory), Costume Design, Adapted Screenplay, Sound, Production Design, or Makeup and Hairstyling.

Oppenheimer feels like the ideal movie to award- it was critically acclaimed, a giant box-office success (but not toooo successful, and in part due to Barbie/Barbenheimer), an awe-inspiring ensemble, and a chance to give Christopher Nolan a career award and right the wrong of the snub of The Dark Knight, which arguably haunts the Oscars to this day. It’s also a biopic and a World War II movie and a movie about a tortured scientist genius, all of which tend to do very well with the Academy. It’s a great awards narrative and a very respectable choice. Oppenheimer was not one of my personal favorite films of the year, but I appreciated what it accomplished and the epic scope of the story it told. It was tremendously acted and crafted. I wouldn’t be opposed to any of those wins, and I certainly think it represents and defines 2023 in film more than many of the other nominees. 

Past Lives

Past Lives is my second favorite film out of these nominees. Written and directed by Celine Song, starring Greta Lee, Teo Yoo, and John Magaro (all three of whom I would have loved to see nominated), the film follows Nora (Lee), a writer whose family immigrated from South Korea to Canada when she was young, leaving behind her childhood sweetheart, Hae (Yoo). Nora marries an American man (Magaro), but feels herself torn between her husband and her past when Hae comes to visit her in New York, reuniting the two after 24 years.

There’s so much to be said about this movie, which I’ll talk more about in my next post about my favorite films of the year (stay tuned!). But I agree with all the critics who say it is one of the best films of the year and has an incredibly tight script, wonderful performances, and explores its subject matter gracefully and with focus and tenderness. The movie only has two nominations, for Best Picture and Original Screenplay for Song. While The Holdovers and Anatomy of a Fall give it hard competition, since it has barely a chance at best picture (I think its acclaim peaked too early), I’d love to see Past Lives win for screenplay. Don’t miss this one!

Poor Things

This is the one nominee I have not seen, so I cannot speak to the quality of Poor Things, I can only give it some context. Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos (The Favourite, The Lobster), this Frankenstein-esque tale of a woman brought to life and setting out on a journey of self-discovery has been garnering buzz for a long time. It won the Golden Globe for musical or comedy (Oppenheimer won for drama) and won a Best Actress award for Emma Stone, whose performance has been near-universally praised. Outside of Best Picture and Actress, the film is also nominated for Director, Cinematography, Costume Design, Editing, Makeup and Hairstyling, Score, Production Design, Adapted Screenplay, and Best Supporting Actor for Mark Ruffalo.

I’m very fond of Ruffalo (mostly because of his work in one of the greatest films of all time) and I think people forget that he has a strong awards history- this will be his fourth Best Supporting Actor nomination (the others being for The Kids Are Alright, Foxcatcher, and Spotlight). I’m not sure this is his best performance (in fact, I sincerely doubt it when we’ve got Dark Waters, Zodiac, Infinitely Polar Bear, and, of course, Now You See Me 2) and he’s probably going to be beaten by Marvel co-star Robert Downey Jr, but this is a nice career boost for him. Along with a potential win from Stone over Lily Gladstone, I could see the film winning Costume Design, Makeup and Hairstyling, and Production Design.

While there is a lot of love for Poor Things, it has also been controversial due to its extreme sexual content and questions over whether it is truly as empowering as it seems. I think this might mean there is a quiet but substantial section of the Academy that will not vote for it for Best Picture. It’s the dark horse contender, but I still think Oppenheimer is the one to beat. 

The Zone of Interest

The Zone of Interest is the most unsettling, unique film of the year (except perhaps for Poor Things). The movie focuses on Auschwitz commander Rudolf Höss and his wife Hedwig as they raise their family and chase domestic bliss in their home right outside of the concentration camp. The film never directly shows what is happening inside the camp. Instead, it’s all about the details. Screaming and gunshots can be heard faintly in the distance in nearly every scene. A servant washes blood off of Rudolf’s boots. The children swim in the pool, and in the background a train passes by. The family sits around the dinner table and an imposing tower of the camp stands behind them. The movie is all about being complicit, about how seeking comfort can lead to willful ignorance and detachment. It is about the Holocaust, yes, but it is also about all of us.

The film has been criticized by some for not directly showing the atrocities in the camp, but I think that is completely missing the entire point of the film. That is a strength of the movie, not a flaw. We’re to the point where there is an entire genre of Holocaust films that has its own tropes and cliches. How have we turned one of the greatest human atrocities into something predictable? Zone of Interest, in its radical detachment, interrogates this entire genre. If we’re hoping the Oscars reward novelty and breaking boundaries in film, I think Zone of Interest deserves some wins.

The film received five nominations, with Best Director for Jonathan Glazer, Adapted Screenplay, Sound, and International Feature. I would personally vote for Jonathan Glazer for Best Director, but I think it is almost certainly going to Nolan. Zone of Interest should, and most definitely will, win for Sound and International Feature (especially since it’s not going up against Anatomy of a Fall in that category). Very well deserved.

In Summary:

I predict will win: Oppenheimer

Dark horse pick: Poor Things 

My personal favorites: The Holdovers, Past Lives, Anatomy of a Fall, The Zone of Interest, Killers of the Flower Moon

Landscape with Invisible Hand

Landscape with Invisible Hand, based on the novel by the same name by M.T Anderson, is a small indie sci-fi film out in theaters now. I’ve been describing the film to people as “Nope meets Eighth Grade meets Sorry to Bother You,” for its alien invasion meets teenage deadpan coming-of-age angst meets an absurdist satire of capitalism. The story takes place in an America that, five years ago, was invaded by an alien species called the Vuvv, who brought with them advanced technology and medicine that has placed nearly all humans out of a job. Two teenagers, Adam and Chloe (Asante Blackk and Kylie Rogers, both terrific), decide to turn their budding romance into live-streamed content– a “courtship broadcast”– for the Vuvv, who do not experience love, and are so fascinated by human romance they are willing to pay for it. But as Adam and Chloe try to keep up their scheme, things get more and more complicated between them and their families, and they suddenly find more than just their livestream at the mercy of the Vuvv.

I have not read the book, so I can’t speak to this film as a work of adaptation. However, after seeing the film and looking up the book, it did not surprise me to discover the book is made up of a series of vignettes. While an attempt is made, the movie is unable to translate the book into a three-act structure and retains the vignette feel. Therefore the film feels disjointed, with each individual vignette having an isolated theme or critique. 

For example, there’s the first section, which explores the dehumanizing effect of romance being monetized. There’s another section where one of the Vuvv pretends to be Adam’s dad and, after watching old sitcoms, adapts sexist views towards Adam’s mother and tries to enforce a patriarchal structure within the home. There’s another section where Adam creates a piece of art in protest of the Vuvv, and the Vuvv then takes it and transforms it into pro-Vuvv propaganda, showing how those in power co-opt and silence dissident artistic movements. There’s a section where a homeless white man, living in the basement of a black woman, watches Fox News-esque TV and complains of how much more privilege she has than him and how things used to be better and different. These vignettes differ in the level of how compelling or well-realized they are, and because each section changes which character it is centered on, some characters disappear for long periods of time, meaning only Adam gets any real semblance of a character arc. 

That being said, as a thought experiment, I truly enjoyed Landscape With Invisible Hand. I love seeing an alien invasion movie where there are no world-ending stakes. It’s a slice-of-life drama about two families, in a world that is familiar but off-kilter. This is speculative fiction at its best, when it presents an alternative reality that we could still imagine and see ourselves in. 

There are other things to like about this film. The Vuvv are amazingly well-realized, from their design (these aren’t Roswell aliens! They’re incredibly unique) to the visual effects to how the actors interact with them. Tiffany Haddish, while I’m still not fully convinced is a great dramatic actor, continues a pretty solid run with this, Haunted Mansion, and The Card Counter. Props to her and her agent! Similarly, Josh Hamilton is quickly becoming one of my favorite actors, after his turn in Eighth Grade and this year’s excellent Reality. The production design makes this world feel lived-in and real while maintaining a stylized edge. And even with the vignette feel, the movie never drags, and there was also never a point in the story where I could predict what was coming next. 

If you enjoy science fiction, coming-of-age stories, satire, or just have already seen Barbie or Oppenheimer, I think this is certainly worth checking out. Like Adam and Chloe’s broadcast, the film is often more evocative of deeper feelings and thoughts than it is able to deliver on, but it’s entertaining nonetheless.

-Madeleine D.

Christian Vocation and “The Bear” Season 2

FX and Hulu’s The Bear recently dropped its second season. The show, which came out in relative obscurity last summer but then exploded in popularity, has become a phenomenon and is being hailed as one of the summer’s best shows. The first season followed Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White), a fine dining chef, as he returned to his hometown of Chicago to take over his deceased brother’s floundering sandwich shop. Season 2 finds Carmy and the staff shutting down the sandwich shop and opening a fine dining restaurant, The Bear, in its place. The real heart of the show is its ensemble of the rough-around-the-edges kitchen staff, and season two finds many of them embarking on journeys of professional and personal growth. The show has many themes- the ruthlessness of the culinary world and the toll it takes, family trauma, found family, the sacrifices it takes to become the best, and cooking as hospitality.

Woven in with all of those themes is a beautiful ode to vocation, and an honest one. And as I watched, I saw in some of the character’s stories illustrations of some of the core Christian doctrines around vocation. The Bear is not an explicitly religious show, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be deeply insightful, even biblical, about the nature of work. So that is what I want to explore here: how The Bear, particularly in this season, gives us insight into how a Christian can think about vocation.

In Tim Keller’s book, Every Good Endeavor, he starts off by analyzing a short story by J.R.R Tolkien, called Leaf by Niggle. In the story, a painter named Niggle tries to paint a gorgeous tree. He spends his life on this painting, yet due to circumstances and his perfectionism, he is only able to paint one really good leaf on the whole tree. Then Niggle dies, feeling like a failure. In the afterlife, Niggle is invited to a heavenly country, where he sees the tree he had always imagined in his mind and tried to paint. The tree is real. The tree is real and beautiful and will be enjoyed forever in this heavenly place. In retrospect, we see that Niggle’s life on earth was about reflecting and imitating and making known to others this real, beautiful thing- even though his efforts were small and clumsy. Because the tree is real, Niggle’s painting, no matter how incomplete, had meaning. 

In this, we see a vision for Christian vocation that is both realistic and beautiful. As Christians, we believe that God is in the business of restoration, and he is truly making all things new (Revelation 21:5). He has not abandoned Earth; he is restoring it and will bring it to perfection in the fullness of time. And in the meanwhile, he delights in using our human work to bring about that restoration. That restoration comes because we know and believe in a deeper truth, which is that of the work and love of Jesus. What the world sees as lost causes, the Christian can see as a yet-to-be-used canvas of God’s mercy. That is, in essence, Niggle’s Tree, the truth that a Christian can work from and find hope and inspiration in. Our efforts– artistic or otherwise– are best when they are reflections of God’s truth and his plan for the world. 

Yet at the same time, we live in a broken world, and are sinful, imperfect vessels. Therefore, none of the good work we do will be complete in this world. Like Niggle, circumstances, and our own selves, get in the way of good work. Most of the time, our work will not look fruitful at all; it will look like failure, or an incomplete mess. This is the result of the curse given to Adam and Eve in Genesis 3 after they sin. God tells them work will no longer be always pleasurable or easy. It is now cursed, characterized with “thorns and thistles”, and only “by the sweat of your face” (3:18-19). Both of these realities hold comfort. When our work is frustrating, we find comfort in the truth that it is that way because of sin, and we can’t expect our work to always be good. This protects us from the bitterness and resentment that comes with unrealistic expectations. But at the same time, our work is always inherently valuable when it is done to please God, because it is like the leaf- it is connected to something that is real and perfect, even if our efforts are not.

In The Bear, various characters get glimpses of “the tree.” They get a glimpse into what a beautiful, perfected version of their work is, and it is what pushes them to strive harder to better their own craft and, more importantly, value the human relationships their work gives them. This is best illustrated in episode 7, “Forks,” which follows Richie as he interns as a stage at a high-end restaurant. He arrives at the restaurant angry at the position and bitter about his life; he lacks purpose and fears he will soon be driven out of Carmy’s restaurant, a restaurant he’s not even sure he wants to work in but is the only place he’s ever fit in. 

But as his work goes along, he gains an appreciation for the staff who work there. He sees the pride the employees take in their work, and how they are able to link all of their work to the relational interactions they have with guests. The hospitality of the restaurant is not ultimately about the quality of the food, it’s about the way food and presentation can be used to make someone feel seen, and therefore cared about. When Richie serves a special deep-dish-pizza-inspired plate to some guests visiting Chicago, he is connecting with them through service, and the delight both he and the guests experience is transcendent. That is the tree, that is the vision of what fine dining can be that Richie takes back with him when he goes back to The Bear. And even though his time at The Bear won’t necessarily be made up of transcendent moments (the opposite, actually), the newfound respect for himself and his vocation fuels him and makes the way he does his work more beautiful and purposeful, no matter the actual impact of the work itself.

Meanwhile, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus are also all sent off to nurture their talent, with the first two going to culinary school and Marcus taking an apprenticeship in Copenhagen to study under a dessert chef. After butting heads with Sydney in the first season, Tina has now softened and become more open to change and focused on sharpening her craft. This openness earns her the rightful role as Sydney’s sous chef and this season she flourishes. Ebra is hesitant and intimidated by culinary school, but eventually finds the courage to continue. And Marcus is finally given the space for his interests to be nurtured, and is reminded of something important by the other chef, Luca, which is that there is freedom in realizing you can’t, or won’t be the very best, and that humility actually allows you the chance to learn. And, Luca adds, that you have to spend time out in the world to be any good in the kitchen. Which is to say, we can’t be solely defined by our work.

One of the best moments of the show happens in the penultimate episode, when Natalie admits to Sydney she hasn’t eaten that day, so Sydney makes her an omelet. Sydney later tells Carmy that that was the best thing she did that day. Sydney is being reminded of the tree– that this job is about serving and loving someone else with the gifts she’s been given. That is what the restaurant is ultimately for. 

Tina lays down her pride to become better than she ever thought she could be. Marcus and Ebra take the leap to invest in their gifts and embrace the humility it takes to get better. Richie learns how to work with a purpose that is outside of himself. Sydney is reminded of the true heart of her work.

But Carmy, tragically, is the one who doesn’t learn any of this. During the opening night of the restaurant, Carmy gets locked into the walk-in fridge. Despite his setback, the staff is able to handle the rest of the night without him, successfully finishing the night. But Carmy can’t handle it. Instead of being proud of the fact that his staff was strong enough to handle things without him, he spirals, even ending up (accidentally) telling his girlfriend Claire that their relationship was a waste of time and focus. 

Richie then calls him out, comparing Carmy to his mother Donna (played by Jamie Lee Curtis), who we are introduced to in a flashback episode. In that episode, Donna, on the brink of a meltdown, makes the family an extravagant holiday meal, but no one can enjoy it because she’s martyring herself over it. She complains that she’s overwhelmed, then won’t take any help offered to her, and when the meal is done, she won’t accept or believe any amount of compliments about it. She desires to cook for her family as an act of love and sacrifice, but she is so consumed with herself that it isn’t anything but a narcissistic act of attention.

Carmy might not be so far gone, but in that moment, that’s what he’s doing. He is not enjoying the restaurant for what it is and for the satisfaction of using his gifts and blessing others with it; or seeing his staff step up and do their jobs beautifully. Instead, he’s mourning that, by being stuck in the fridge, he is not being able to prove himself and justify all he’s sacrificed. And that is what makes it impossible for him to believe in the chance at a romantic relationship, or any life outside of the kitchen. As long as he finds all his worth in his job, he can never imagine a life outside of it. A Christian view of vocation counteracts this, because Christians don’t find their worth and identity in themselves or their skills, they find it outside of themselves in Christ. Carmy has chased his dreams and given it everything he has, but it hasn’t made him happy, because the perfect “tree” will always be beyond himself and his own abilities.

The season ends with uncertainty: the staff has experienced some triumphs, and the restaurant’s first night was a success, but various relationships are in a precarious place, and Carmy is once again his own worst enemy. Most of the characters, through their experiences this season, have seen the tree. They have seen the deeper reality underneath their work, and it has resulted in more humility, teamwork, and respect for one another. But will they be able to hold on to that vision and mindset against hardship?

I can only imagine what will be cooking (sorry not sorry!) for season three.

– Madeleine D.