It occurred to me later that I’d absorbed a lot of Oscars information as a teenager when I spent my time watching acceptance speeches on YouTube and scrolling through the Trivia section on IMDb whenever I watched a movie. I also knew that the wealth of my knowledge-focused heavily on women because, as in most art forms, their work interested me more. The Oscars led me to some of that work, to the kinds of films I wasn’t aware of as a child, the type of films that played against the big blockbuster movies of my youth and instead featured women who did more than scream and ask the male lead what to do. This meant I’d go and see movies like Rachel Getting Married, An Education, or Blue Valentine with the money I got from my first job; films that introduced me to a different kind of filmmaking. I also used the Oscars as a basecamp for movie history by scrolling back through the lists of previous Oscar winners and becoming obsessed with Kathrine Hepburn, Judy Garland, Deborah Kerr, Barbra Streisand and many others, all of whom were women who had their own history of being overlooked or celebrated by the Academy. 

It seemed, however, that any Oscar titbits I might learn mainly were seen as useless information or, at best, a party trick doled out to impress people for a few minutes before they became bored when I tried to discuss the subject further. I knew an older gay man who could list every Best Picture winner in order after a few drinks at the pub and thought, maybe one day, I’d do the same with the actresses who had won but, beyond that, it wouldn’t be very useful. Occasionally, when I watched a film with my housemates, one would point and ask if an actor in the movie we were watching had ever won an Oscar. I could say yes or no and, in the cases of actresses, had a good idea about what they’d won for. Or, like had happened with Kidman that Saturday morning, a few small opportunities would appear from nowhere, and I’d be in my element before the conversation inevitably moved on. 

Some years after I summoned Kidman’s filmography as if through divine intervention, I was scrolling through YouTube, likely watching my favourite Best Actress speeches, when I came across a video dedicated to the tie between Barbra Streisand and Katherine Hepburn in 1969. This was one of the first Oscar stories I got wrapped up in after I began looking at its history. It featured two actresses I loved, unpacked the myths that had sprung up around that year, and, beyond all that, I was obsessed with the sheer black outfit Streisand wore to the ceremony. I clicked the video immediately, and at over fifteen minutes, the video deepened my understanding of that moment and my knowledge of two actresses I loved.

The video was uploaded by Be Kind Rewind, a channel dedicated to essayistic deep-dives into actresses who have won Oscars. As a standard format, each video focused on a particular Best Actress winner in a specific year by considering the narrative created around the winner, the other nominees, the cultural context that led to each woman accepting the golden statuette, and the socio-political implications behind Hollywood’s biggest night. After I finished the first video, I burned through all the analytical, insightful and well-researched video essays they’d uploaded so far and eagerly awaited new ones. 

As the channel grew, it expanded into videos that moved away from the Oscars, but its focus remained on women. In 2018, the channel released a video examining the differences between the many versions of A Star is Born, looking specifically at the role of ‘The Star’ and how it differed from Janet Gaynor to Judy Garland, to Streisand, and then Lady Gaga. They released “hot takes” on the recent award wins, particularly the 2019 race when Olivia Coleman won over Glenn Close, and an excellent essay on Madonna’s filmic references within her many music videos. There were lengthy and nuanced discussions of the Academy’s controversies, too. There was a set of two excellent semi-linked videos on #OscarsSoWhite. The first focused on Halle Berry’s historic win in 2001, and the second on the poor representation of Asian and Asian American women at the Oscars throughout history. In other videos, such as those dedicated to Kidman and Gwyneth Paltrow, they considered the Harvey Weinstein of it all, a figure that looms large in any discussion of movies from the nineties and early noughties. In essence, the videos not only gave reverence to the women and the performances at their centre but connected them to a broader context in a way that fought back against the frivolity and in-built misogyny that coloured discussions about them in the past. So often, the performances nominated for Best Actress do not come from films nominated for Best Picture, which leads to Be Kind Rewind’s central message: that art made by, for, or featuring women should not be devalued or considered less than on this basis alone.  

For over a decade now, the Academy has expanded the Best Picture category from five to a possible ten, with the actual number varying each year depending on the number of votes it receives. In a 2017 article for Vanity Fair, Daniel Joyaux looked at the correlation between Best Picture and the Leading acting categories. Between 2011 and 2017, 30 actors and 30 actresses were nominated for leading roles, but as Joyaux notes, “while 21 of those best-actor performances came in films that were also nominated for best picture, only 12 best-actress performances came from best-picture nominees.” In focusing on Best Actress wins, Be Kind Rewind gives time and space to often-ignored or undervalued films. This, more often than not, is because the Academy, and the film industry at large, have shaped perceptions around what “prestige” means, about what “good” means, and it almost exclusively applies to male-led films. 

 “What is considered good or important cinema?” the narrator asks in their video on the 2020 Oscars race. “Thankfully, the Academy isn’t the only body attempting to answer that question, and their decisions are rarely considered sacrosanct.” So why are we drawn to them? The Oscars’ longevity and their centrality within the industry imply a sense of status, but that centrality also makes them a prime place to start for the cultural evaluation found in Be Kind Rewind’s videos. Part of loving the Oscars or being interested in their past is to acknowledge the Academy’s flaws. Increasingly, year by year, those who grew to love the Oscars when we were younger find ourselves increasingly annoyed that performances or movies that make waves or are considered significant are ignored. This, for me, was best encapsulated in this year’s ceremony, when not a single person I wanted to win took home an award (and other actors who I think deserved the top prize, like Renate Reinsve in The Worst Person in the World, weren’t even nominated). 

In a recent interview with W, Izzy, the creator of Be Kind Rewind – who told the magazine she would like to remain “semi-incognito” – described the channel as a place for people who love classic cinema, and particularly the women who populate it, to come together. “There aren’t too many places to congregate and meet people who are interested in those same things, so the internet opened up the floodgates”, she said. “When I declared loudly online that this was what I loved talking about, it allowed others to find me.” This echoes the general notion of the good that the internet can do; it connects people. It is perhaps helpful to remind ourselves of this as being online is becoming increasingly hellish. There are corners of the web that offer people the chance to be passionate about things and for others to engage with that passion, to meet that enthusiasm head-on. For me, Be Kind Rewind’s YouTube channel is one of them.

Also Read: How Film Changed Me: On Nicole Kidman

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As a queer person, I routinely discuss how much I love actresses. From Laura Dern to Dakota Johnson, Holly Hunter to Kristen Stewart, I love the work of women (I am basically that clip of Saoirse Ronan saying “women” emphatically), but Kidman has always been a point of specific interest. The first time I remember seeing a Nicole Kidman film was likely Moulin Rouge when I was around thirteen. My high school, quite inappropriately, decided to adapt the movie for the stage as that year’s school play (long before the Broadway version existed), and I watched the film over and over during rehearsals. Not so much because I had a big role (I was in the chorus and had three dance numbers, which I slayed) but because I became obsessed with Kidman as Satine, a courtesan dreaming of a life elsewhere. I used to listen to her version of ‘One Day I’ll Fly Away, ‘ as if it applied to my own teenage existence on frosty Winter mornings as I wandered to school. What I didn’t realise at the time was that Moulin Rouge was also a crucial film in the emancipation of Kidman.

When Kidman first broke into Hollywood in the late nineties, she was primarily seen as Tom Cruise’s girlfriend. Despite success with the thriller Dead Calm, Cruise was the biggest movie star in the world, and ultimately, his overall star power consumed Kidman, too. They worked together in films like Days of Thunder, Far and Away, and Eyes Wide Shut – all of which gained attention for starring the real-life couple. Her other films, well-reviewed but lacking impact (like Gus Van Sant’s To Die For or Jane Campion’s The Portrait of a Lady), flew mostly under the radar. At the same time, her more significant blockbuster roles (in Joel Schumacher’s Batman Forever) were often written off as campy. Her move, from a respected indie actress to a major movie star, facilitated by her marriage to Cruise, provided both pros and cons. As Ingrid Sischy wrote in a 2002 profile of Kidman, “She went from being an actress who had begun to taste success—and who had always insisted on living on her own, even during her various romances—to a woman inside the engine of the Hollywood machine.”

When Kidman and Cruise divorced, the tabloids raised the question of who would “win” the break-up. Would it be Cruise? The megastar has millions of adoring fans and a proven track record in Hollywood. Or would it be Kidman? An Australian actress whose highest-profile roles were directly connected with her husband. The answer seemed obvious.

In early 2001, the couple announced their divorce, and later that year, in May, Moulin Rouge premiered at the Cannes film festival. The film went on to be nominated for eight Academy Awards the following year, including a Best Actress nod for Kidman. That year, she lost to Halle Berry – a historic win of its own – but this nomination cemented her position in Hollywood moving forward. Not only was she well-reviewed and Oscar-nominated, but the film made $179.2 million at the box office, more than doubling its original budget. When this was put together with The Others, which came out a few months after Moulin Rouge and was also a critical and financial hit, it was clear Kidman was more than the sum of her celebrity marriage.

A few years ago, a friend asked me if Nicole Kidman had ever won an Oscar. “She’s been nominated four times and won once,’ I said, surprised at how quickly that knowledge came to my mind. My friend followed up, asking which films she’d been nominated for. “In chronological order,” I said, “Moulin Rouge, The Hours (which she won for), Rabbit Hole, and Lion.” Again, I hadn’t realised I’d absorbed so much “kidmanformation” (I just coined this, we’ll see if it catches on) in my everyday life. Of course, my daily life (as a queer movie person who watches Oscar acceptance speeches on YouTube in my spare time) is not the same as everyone else’s.

Her performance as Virginia Woolf in The Hours is one of my all-time favourite Kidman performances. Spurred on by the rawness of a significant public break-up, Kidman embodied the writer who was on the brink of suicide. She captured a woman lost and struggling with how to be and how to act. She transformed herself physically, too, something Kidman regularly does but often doesn’t get much credit for, proving that she was an actress to reckon with. Despite the Oscar win, her public persona was somewhat confused. In the late 2000s and early 2010s, Kidman was written off by many and was often cited as having a “comeback” anytime she made something critics liked. In a 2017 article for Buzzfeed, Anne Helen Petersen wrote,

Post-The Hours, Kidman straddled arthouse movies and big blockbusters. She had critical hits and major flops; she moved into producing, and through her work on Big Little Lies, she made a huge impact on TV, too. She has worked with Yorgos Lanthimos, Sofia Coppola, Park Chan-Wook, Lars Von Trier, Nora Ephron, and Noah Baumbach, to name a few. She routinely takes risks and jumps between genres, but isn’t afraid of a big pay-check gig – like Aquaman – either. She is the modern movie star who understands the requirements of Hollywood (one-for-me-and-one-for-you) but plays that so keenly to her advantage that it never feels like she’s selling out. To put it plainly, Kidman is the GOAT, and we’re lucky that we’re alive to see her thrive. 

Also Read: How Film Changed Me: On Sex Scenes

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Bombshell is, politically, a mess. That is to say, its politics are hard to gauge and at times difficult to decipher. The rise of Donald Trump, from an outlier, that no one is taking seriously to the Republican Presidential nominee, plays out in the background, as the severity of Ailes comprehensive harassment becomes clear. Yet, at no point does the film choose to explicitly link the two. It decides to forego the ‘grab them by the pussy’ audiotape or the accusations from at least 23 women, from the 1980s to today, detailing harassment and abuse from Trump himself. It also neglects to mention that after Ailes resigned from Fox News, and took a sizeable pay-out to the tune of $40 million, he walked straight into a job as an advisor for Trump’s presidential campaign. 

You might well wonder if considering the film’s politics necessary. Is this not a bipartisan tale of overcoming sexual harassment? The answer depends on how you view the ‘Fox News’ of it all. Bombshell isn’t any sort of ‘leftist propaganda’ trying to tear down the Fox News monolith. Nor is it really a heroic story of three conservative women, that praises their efforts to cleanse this media giant of bad behaviour. Instead, it sits somewhere weakly in the middle, too scared to really wrestle with the complexity of the situation. One that follows women who worked at the network that helped get Trump elected that has been accused multiple times of doctoring video footage, as well as having severe issues with race and islamophobia. As Alison Willmore wrote for Vulture, the film never significantly engages with the ‘the ideological Jenga of trying to push back at a particular form of oppression while trying to leave all the structures that support it undisturbed.’

Outside of the murky omissions and the ignored parallels, the movie faces another hurdle. First and foremost, it is essential to note that sexual harassment, no matter who it happens to, is bad. But when it comes to cinema an audience needs someone to root for, someone you care about and, on some level, like. Thus, the other obstacle facing Bombshell simply: how do you make Megyn Kelly a hero? 

The first step? You get Charlize Theron to play her and have her give an immersive, gripping, and enthralling performance. As an actress, she is relatively unmatched in her commitment to transformation, both here and in her Oscar-winning turn as serial killer Aileen Wuornos in Monster. But Theron isn’t just about make-up and prosthetics, her range is wide-reaching as evidenced by her comedic performances in last year’s Long Shot or 2011’s Young Adult. Theron uses those comedy chops to great effect for some of the films lighter or more self-referential moments – including a fourth-wall-breaking introduction to the Fox News machine. 

The second step? You avoid the stories that made Megyn Kelly the conservative controversy magnet she is. You choose instead to focus on her more palatable actions; namely her challenging of Donald Trump’s misogyny during the 2016 presidential primaries and less on her various shall we say… contrary opinions (though the film does, briefly, address her ‘Santa is White’ comments). 

It’s also useful to surround Theron with a cast of likeable and renowned actors including Kate McKinnon’s secretly suffering liberal staffer, Rob Delaney’s sympathetic producer, and Alison Janney’s gruff-voiced attorney. Elsewhere Nicole Kidman is strong as Gretchen Carlson, the original whistleblower, but is in third place, narratively behind Kelly and Margot Robbie’s fictional Kayla Pospisil; a young conservative woman with a dream to be on Fox. Pospisil, our gateway into the newsroom, is a composite character cleverly utilised to show the extent of horrific Ailes abuse without having to expose or monetise any specific woman’s interactions with him. 

Behind the camera, the mixed-messages continue with Jay Roach, the director of grounded political TV-Movies like 2012’s Game Change (that saw Julianne Moore as Sarah Palin), teaming up with Charles Randolph, the writer of the flashy and trick-filled The Big Short. As a result, stylistically, Bombshell falls somewhere in between. The handheld camera and intrusive close-ups give the film a sense of realism. That the action is captured almost like a documentary with multiple cameras on the go at once gives a claustrophobic and newslike feel. Then, occasionally, the film widens out and has actors talk directly to the camera or blends it’s ‘fictional’ narrative with actual documentary as the audio of real testimonies made by six women who accused Ailes of assault are heard with accompanying photos. Yet, the grounded nature of Roach and the showy antics of Randolph never quite gel, leaving it to feel like you’re flicking between two different movies – both of which could be quite interesting.

Bombshell may be a mess politically, disjointed stylistically, and have plenty of other significant issues but, somehow… it’s still entertaining. Maybe it’s a testament to the casting, with Theron especially doing the heavy lifting to pull it all together in spite of everything stacked against her. Perhaps the film is messy, but not quite messy enough. Bombshell might be like the pile of clothes you stuff under your bed or into the bottom of your wardrobe. The room looks clean enough, but the mess is still there, lurking, and you’re going to have to deal with it someday. 

Rating: (3 / 5)

Bombshell is in U.K cinemas from 17th January 2020

Also Read: JoJo Rabbit (Review)

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Many critics were left disappointed when the film came out. Which is understandable. When the film was released Kubrick hadn’t made a film in 12 years. And with his great track record, many were probably expecting a masterpiece. With such high expectations, it’s understandable why the film didn’t fare well upon initial viewing. But with the film celebrating it’s 20^th Anniversary this year, today we will be looking back to see if Eyes Wide Shut deserves its reputation as Stanley Kubrick’s worst film.

The Story

Bill (Tom Cruise) and Alice Harford (Nicole Kidman) are a well-regarded New York City couple. Bill has a good job as a doctor, the couple has a child together and is very active in high society. But after a series of intimate flirtations with other people at a Christmas party, they begin to have doubts about how secure their relationship is.

After Alice admits to having sexual fantasies about another man, Bill embarks on an odyssey around New York to find out more about himself. His curiosity leads him to several encounters that will test his commitment to his relationship. Eventually causing him to cross paths with a secret society who don’t take kindly to strangers.

What did I like?

If you are a fan of cinema Eyes Wide Shut delivers something truly unique. It uses its basis as an erotic thriller to ask some interesting questions about relationships. What does marriage mean to people? Is it possible to truly know someone? And does true love really exist? And these interesting thematic points are accompanied and conveyed through great performances and a confident script.

Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman’s performances are some of both actor’s best work. They have fantastic chemistry, which makes the films questions about relationships more impactful because theirs feels so genuine. They were of course dating at the time. Tom Cruise being Hollywood’s go to charming leads makes Bill easy to like. But he’s equally effective when the film shifts and shows him in more vulnerable or compromising positions. And he makes each character shift work by wholly committing to the emotion required from the role. And Kidman shows her strong dramatic capabilities and how committed she can be. She’s willing to commit to nudity and brings dramatic weight to her simplest actions. The scene where she and Cruise discuss their relationship is incredibly powerful, because of her performance. And all the supporting performers although given limited screen time, manage to make their characters feel like fully rounded people.

The script is also one of Kubrick’s best. It creates a seamless world that blends both the real and surreal perfectly. The dialogue between the characters all feels natural. It doesn’t seem pretentious or forced. It feels like these are characters voicing their opinions, and aren’t just actors reciting dialogue. Even the exposition, although there can sometimes be a lot, fits what the characters are going through. And it allows room for interpretation, with so much being left unexplained for the audience to interpret. While also being a complete narrative. With all of the major characters arcs completed in a natural way.

And the cinematography is some of the best of Kubrick’s career. Cinematographer Larry Smith makes every scene look like a painting come to life. The colourful lighting and smooth tracking shots make the film a joy to look at. And he creates a palpable atmosphere through adding a haziness to many of the shots. Making the film feel like a dream. Which makes the more surreal frightening parts of the film all the more plausible.

But there are still elements that may bother viewers especially those unfamiliar with Kubrick’s work.

What did I not like?

Firstly, the slow pace that favours character interaction, mood and visual metaphors over an efficient, traditional narrative can make the film a chore for people simply wanting to watch a story unfold rather than trying to decode what the movie means. Many will also be dissatisfied with the directions the story takes. The payoffs to many of the story’s arcs happen off-screen and are explained away in dialogue or favour intimate images over big spectacle, which can make some audience members feel cheated.

The direction doesn’t help. Kubrick’s films often lack intimacy. Favouring wider shots over close-ups and cold/washed out colours, which keeps the audience at a distance and inspires a depressing feeling. Coupled with the actors slower, more methodical delivery, this can make the film seem stagey and un-real. Which may keep you from becoming engaged with the drama.

Alternately there are times when some might feel that the movie is patronizing them. Some scenes literally vomit dialogue about what has occurred. Which is necessary for the characters but not for the audience. The pool scene being the worst offender.

Finally, it is easy to see some take against the portrayal of women in the film. Many may feel the film paints all women as being obsessed with sex and are portrayed in an enticing way for the male viewer. Which is not an inaccurate conclusion. Though it is worth pointing out that the film does hold Bill’s character accountable for his chauvinist views. And many of the films male characters are controlling, manipulative and driven by self-interest (though they have significantly less nude scenes).

Verdict  

Twenty years after it’s release, it’s easy to see why some audiences took against Eyes Wide Shut. Because it favours atmosphere over tight narrative structure. Goes in directions that many may not expect. While also offering up a possibly unflattering view of women and to those unfamiliar with Kubrick’s style it can seem alienating and hard to read.

However to those looking for something different or are familiar with the directors work the film delivers a one of a kind experience. It asks big philosophical questions in a way that allows the audience to think and come up with their own conclusions while still functioning as complete narrative. The characters are memorable and interesting. All of the actors commit themselves in ways that are very admirable and play to and against their strengths. And the film is a feast for the eyes with a vibrant colour scheme that attracts and repels at the same time.

It’s a hard nut to crack. But once you have, it is a rewarding experience and a worthy swan song for one of cinemas greatest voices.

Verdict: (4.5 / 5)

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