This has become an annual tradition the day before the Oscars. In order move away all the subjectivity and negativity that happens when figuring out what should win and what’s going to win, I get away from all of that stuff and celebrate the films that are nominated for Best Picture.
We take this day to look at them as masterworks of cinema and not as films competing for a trophy. All of that other stuff — the analysis, the opinions — that’s all done with. Today, we take a minute, we stop, and we appreciate the films themselves. I count down my five favorite moments (or elements) of each of them.
When you take away all the awards, all the competition, and all the arbitrary decisions about what film is better than the others, what we’re left with is great cinema. That’s what we’re celebrating.
Our next nominee is Room:
5. Leo + the cereal
This is such a tiny moment in the film, but was one that really stuck out to me. Jack is right on the verge of crossing that bridge to normalcy. We see him go from being unable to speak to any other person except his mother, not even look them in the eye. And even now that he’s home, he’s been in the same room as other adults, but he doesn’t acknowledge them and clings close to Ma the whole time.
And then there’s this scene. Jack clearly wants to make the connection with other people, but is too afraid to do so. And then Leo handles the whole thing wonderfully. He sees Jack, and rather than confront him, which would frighten him and make him run away, he plays it as if he’s the only one in the room. And he piques Jack’s curiosity enough to make him come to the kitchen. At which point he can start talking to him and offer him cereal.
And then the rest of the scene is great. Jack starts talking, tells Leo about his imaginary dog, and finally you get the sense that Jack is going to (finally) be okay.
Allowing for…
4. This moment
This is the most terrifying moment in the movie for me. Because yes, we saw everything in Room, and the escape was tense as hell, but here, you’re totally invested in these characters, and they’ve finally gotten to a place where they can be okay, and then this. I kept thinking the entire time, “Please don’t have her be dead.” Because one, you don’t want to see that. From a storytelling perspective, it’s kind of on the nose to do. But from the sense of just watching the movie, it’s terrifying because 1) you want to see this character be okay after all she’s been through, and 2) this can undo all the good that’s happened with Jack until this point. So when he screams and all this chaos is going on, I was praying she was gonna survive, from both an intellectual and emotional point of view. And the film really does keep that hanging for a few minutes where you’re not quite sure how it’s gonna turn out.
3. A Boy and His Ma
I don’t really know what this one is supposed to be. If it’s how they shot everything in Room (the direction is absolutely astounding in that half of the film), or Brie Larson’s performance in particular. I guess it’s all of that rolled into one.
I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for her to play those scenes. Not even because of the material. Because of everything. Here, you have a seven year old kid, who has time restrictions on how long he can act. So you have to keep him focused. And you have to keep him interested throughout the day. And on a space this small, she’s the only one that’s hanging out with him between takes. Not only that, I imagine that the way they shot it, she has to help him remember his lines and get him to make the adjustments the director wants him to make, while also remembering her own lines and be ready to jump into any and every part of the scene at any point in time, while also giving a performance on top of it all.
Everything about the half of the film that takes place in Room completely astounds me. Which is funny, since I feel like that was probably the easier part of the film to deal with for them.
2. “I love you, Grandma”
There are such small lines and moments that just break your heart whenever you hear them. There’s something about the innocence of a child. Like in the end, when Ma apologizes to him for trying to kill herself. And Jack just responds, “That’s okay. Don’t do it again.” Or even after that. “I’m not a good enough Ma.” “But you’re Ma.”
It’s the way Jack says things that breaks my heart (also, tell me you weren’t crazy happy the minute his face broke out into smile when seeing the dog for the first time). This moment broke me when I saw the movie for the first time. In a way, I saw it coming. But it still broke me. The innocence of the moment itself — he’s cutting his hair, which is a big step, and he’s doing it to help his mother feel stronger to fight through all that she’s going through — and then the simplicity with which he says “I love you” to her. As an actor, that must be one of those moments you dream of, because it’s impossible not to tear up when in that moment.
This, to me, was one of the most perfect moments captured on film all year.
1. This shot
The entire escape sequence itself is brilliantly shot and paced, all the way through the police car scene (because even when he can’t remember his mother’s real name or how to explain to the cops where to find Room, you’re still scared shitless because you don’t know what Old Nick is doing/if he’s going back to hurt Ma). But this shot in particular is the best shot in the film because again, it comes down to the simplicity of the moment. Everyone can feel what this kid is feeling right now. The film so perfectly grounds you within his reality for an hour that when he finally gets out and finally sees the sky for the first time, you have this moment of transcendence, where you’re not thinking about what the situation is or how terrifying this all should be right now. You have an instance of sublime beauty, where nothing else matters at that moment in time. That’s the power of cinema.
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