There was a hurly burly to this Oscars/Globes/SAGs season in the wake of the strikes. Tiaras could be worn again. No more Rosie the Riveter anti-glam jumpsuits. Men, like Rustin’s daring and dapper Colman Domingo, won the runway like they haven’t before. Chicken Little may moan that ‘the sky is falling’ in the wake of the pandemic, theatrical contraction, those gnarly but necessary strikes, and the ridiculous consolidation of the industry under men who know how to negotiate their golden parachutes but not how to tell stories or make art. Still, there are huge streaks of light. While four out of five of the Best Director nominees were (white) men, French film director Justine Triet made a nondogmatic domestic drama that was superbly directed – and colored outside the lines. Anatomy of a Fall, also nominated for a Best Picture, is a film recognized for being muscular, and challenging. It’s a movie that demands the theatrical experience because it needs to be seen and immediately discussed. It’s disruptive.
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