Unknown: Not Taken

I couldn't be more pleased that Liam - Darkman, Schindler, Aslan, Zeus - Neeson has somehow become the world's favorite action star. If I could flux-capacitate back and share this with audiences leaving Michael Collins they'd punch me in the face and throw me in a one way cab to Belleview. And yet, it's the case.

Neeson is launching himself into that strata of Euro-actors who takes film after film -- sometimes lending his clout to simple one-liners "RELEASE THE KRACKEN!" which the formerly "Sir" Anthony Hopkins shall do with this summer's Thor.

The old Grand Moff Tarkin move.

At the same time, Neeson is headlining would be crummy action movies that are driving middle aged women crazy and are -- admittedly -- not half bad. The amount of street cred he gained with Taken was nothing short of astonishing. It wasn't a solid film by any means -- yet its undeniably entertaining. The world loved it. It's constantly on television and is the type of movie Mel Gibson would have (actually) killed to have chosen instead of the astoundingly unattended Edge of Darkness.

So here we are with Unknown which is raking in the dough and has audiences clamoring that they've found a new Taken. I'm here to tell you that couldn't be further from the truth. The plot holes in this thing are beyond compare. There's some sweet action -- I'll admit that. Diane Kruger is pretty excellent. And the best performance in the entire film is seasoned Swiss star Bruno Ganz -- perhaps best known for the recent Hitler film Downfall or the 90s masterpiece Far Away, So Close. With an actor like that, would you expect any less?

But my word is the storyline a stunner of repetitive, weak, forced twists and turns.

Neeson's screamed, "I'm Martin Harris!" borders on "Give me back my son!" and "Not without my daughter!" As a drinking game, it would leave audiences the world over fighting their way onto organ donor lists. There is literally an hour of film where Neeson yells that line at least once per scene. I'm going to go out on a limb and say, "We got it, Qui Gon."

If you're looking for something mindless to rent or netflix stream in the months to come -- perhaps consider it -- but this is not something one needs to hurry to a multiplex to enjoy. In fact the only redeeming line of dialogue is when amnesiac Neeson screams "I haven't forgotten how to kill you a**hole!"

Other than that, my review Unknown is this: Corn?

- Matthew J. McCue

Little Red's Little Review

What a muddy plot you have.
The better to confuse you with, my dear.


I am a huge fan of Catherine Hardwicke. The "Twilight Saga" has ventured onward without her and has dragged in colossal sums -- who knows what kind of box office numbers the Breaking Dawn two-parter will do under Bill Condon. We're talking borderline Harry Potter numbers here.

The problem is, they've lost their edge. That handheld choppiness -- that borderline off-putting editing -- that slow it down/speed it up -- clear "direction" has left Forks. Eclipse and New Moon are clean and pristine -- about all they've kept in common with the franchise kick-off is their excellent soundtracks -- another Hardwicke signature. And this isn't to say Chris Weitz (my hero) or Hard Candy's David Slade didn't nail the follow-ups. But they've been smoothed down and polished beyond studio compare. Take one look at the directorial style of the Twilight "baseball game" and it couldn't be more clear -- the edge is gone -- then again, so is glittering in the sunshine -- you take what you can get, I suppose.

But this helmer of Thirteen and The Lords of Dogtown is clearly a director to be reckoned with (or for any of my students who happen to be reading this "a director with whom one should reckon"). I wonder what she'll do next and which film will be her signature piece. One thing is certain -- it shall not be Red Riding Hood.


I for one am overjoyed about Hollywood's current tip toward adapting and reinventing fairytales and folklore. It's always a nice recurring trend to ride through and the vampire - werewolf obsession spawned by Stephanie Meyer, Kristen Stewart, Taylor Lautner and Robert Pattinson makes Catherine Hardwicke the slam-dunk choice to lens it.

But the plot, my friends, the plot. And let me just say spoiler alert to the max.

What looked like it had the possibility of being a neat little film about a small town, a werewolf, a snow and some hot people turned into a muddled near laughable mess that made me re-evaluate my deep disrespect for The Village.


A small town is haunted by a werewolf to whom they sacrifice livestock each month. One month, the wolf kills the beautiful Amanda Seyfried's sister. How can this be? We've been giving that wolf goats and pigs on a regular basis and then he up and kills one of us? Murmurmurmur, watermelonbubblegum, elephantshoe.

Lukas Haas -- who still looks like he stepped off the set of Witness and who may well be the reason Leonardo DiCaprio produced the pic (or vice versa) -- is the local priest who insists they call in the big religious guns. And who else would be the worst possible priest to ring up? Well, Gary Oldman, of course. What was nice to see is that this was real Gary Oldman -- not watered down Sirius Black. This was the Oldman of the '90s who we all think could snap at any moment, torture folks, or just straight up kill them -- and he does. That was at least a pleasure.

But apparently -- according to this film -- the town is currently under a "Red Moon" wherein a werewolf's bite can turn anyone into an additional werewolf. This, of course, is long after multiple drifting, warning camera shots of a VERY white moon -- at least they were kind enough to keep the moon red once this brand-new piece of folklore was introduced.

Thus we're left with a love triangle between Seyfried unknown actors -- a woodcutter and a blacksmith -- both about 18 and great looking. Amazingly to us of the modern age -- a woodcutter is an absolutely unacceptable husband whereas with a smithy you've struck gold -- or you've at least met someone who can hammer it into the shape of something.

So the wolf obviously returns and starts killing people and no significant actor is ever on-screen while this is happening to keep absolutely everyone a suspect. And one night -- while the wolf is slash folks to pieces it corners Amanda Seyfried and speaks to her. Yes, the wolf speaks. And this is one of these modern day werewolves who doesn't take its lycanthrope form like good old Benicio del Toro in the highly underrated (seriously, rent it today) and now Oscar-winning Wolfman. No torn shirt and jeans here. This is one of these actual wolves that looks more like that bad-ass from The Neverending Story and yet it speaks. So it tells Seyfried to leave town and make a new life.

Of course, every single character in the movie has told Seyfried to do this one way or the other, so there's no telling who it could be. Amazingly, in my opinion, it's also a clear sign that Seyfried should indeed leave town -- wolf endorsement or not.

And here's where the holes come in. The questions.

What the hell is Julie Christie -- dame of Beatty-dom -- doing here?
Oh, she's the dad's mom?

If the wolf can't go on holy ground, why don't we all just chill in the church for the whole movie?

Aren't there like 15 people in this town? Wouldn't it be relatively easy to just take attendance?

Why are they killing every person who is "wolf bit" when the wolf itself claims its power can only be passed on to someone in its bloodline?

How are there locked guarded gates around the entire village and yet my dear Julie Christie -- granny who lives out in the woods -- can come and go as she pleases?

What is going on?!

I'm not going to spend time nitpicking over the remarkable contradictions of logic that persist through the rest of the film because frankly I'm in a storm of conflicting emotions -- I wish to hell Hardwicke had made a better movie and at the same time, it's so bad, I can't possibly believe this was the intended picture. Something must have gone horribly wrong out there in the woods and somehow this was what we ended up with.

It looked great. And the music is good. I must give it both of those. But that's all.

Here's hoping Ms. Seyfried and Ms. Hardwicke get right back into the swing of things and put this one behind them.

-Matthew J. McCue

Best Moment of the Night: The Steve Sole Salute!

You're right, Steve and C.C., I should have pointed out my favorite moment of the night. Of course it was Robert Downey, Jr. (my man) and Jude Law (the flop-surviving dynamo: Gigolo Joe).

How on earth could you better present Visual Effects?

Jude Law: "It’s their moment. You know, if it wasn’t for them your closest association with a superhero would have been in 2001. When you got busted in a cheap hotel with a woman dressed as Batgirl."

Robert Downey, Jr. : "Okay, first of all, that cheap hotel room cost $1250 with a corporate discount. Secondly, it was 2000 not 2001. And most importantly, she was dressed as Wonder Woman. And THAT attention to detail is what has won the respect of all the Academy voters for these fine men and women."

The King's Sweep: And So It Is.

First of all -- how'd I do?

Art Direction, Costume Design, Makeup, Sound, Sound Effects Editing, Visual Effects Editing, Score (well, I narrowed it down to two -- but who didn't), Song, Editing, Documentary, Adapted Screenplay, Actor.

So Denmark gets Foreign Film -- fine, it did everywhere else.

So Pfister gets Cinematography -- my apologies to the oft nominated Deakins, but an Inception win is aok with me. Looks like the Nolan pic walked away with the most awards of the night, didn't it?

Annette! 

It was clear Natalie Portman had it in the bag -- but as a faithful Annettean, I was not going to put that in writing. Natalie has held my heart for many a moon -- but this is Annette we're talking about. My little four time nominee. Bless her and keep her. Natalie, I salute your work.  And man, you were a trooper hauling that bursting belly around. You did not look comfortable on the red carpet.

Supporting...

The Fighter duo really took it to the bank this year -- and I'm a little saddened to see there was no upset in either category. But I've said it before -- and shall again -- I seem in the incredible minority with my lukewarm reaction to Marky Mark's passion project.

So let's talk for a moment about the multiple minutes surrounding Melissa Leo's win. Why was Kirk Douglas sent onto the stage? How did that happen? Will an elder-statesman of a star ever be sent on stage again? What on earth was going on with Melissa Leo's speech? What was with the "I have learned so much about the Academy. It's about selling movies and respecting the work?" What does that mean? Why did she leave with Kirk's cane? Someone please help me understand everything that took place.

Christian Bale is a fantastic actor and thus I salute him. The little boy from Empire of the Sun has come a long way. I, for one, plan to follow his lead by thanking his wife and children somewhat forgetfully without having mentioned a specific name. That speech can be played forever and will never point to a specific relationship. Way to Swank it, Bale.

The Writers...

I would have loved to have seen Nolan get the respect he deserves with an original screenplay Oscar. I wonder when that -- or a directing nomination -- will happen for him. The Seidler win was one of the evening's more touching moments.

Both Mr. Seidler and Mr. Sorkin gave some excellent speeches. Watching Sorkin get up there and rattle off something that polished shows what a remarkable writer the man is -- and how many Emmys he's accepted.

Director AND Picture?!


The Fincher loss was a stunner. An absolute stunner and once again proof of the HW's power. My goodness. Yes, yes, it rarely splits. But I will happily admit that I 100% believed that either the awards were going to split or The Social Network was taking it all. It would be foolish to claim that The King's Speech didn't have steadily building momentum straight through the award season -- making it clear that it was going to take picture. But it sure as hell didn't seem like Tom Hooper was coming along!

After Zodiac, Benjamin Button, and now The Social Network -- one wonders if Fincher will have another crack at the gold, especially now that he's knee-deep in the Millenium Trilogy. What a mind-blower.

How about those hosts?

The show was a complete screwball. There seemed no reason to just stick Anne Hathaway out there alone to sing. But if that's what it takes to put James Franco in a dress -- I'll take it. He really pulled it off!

Whether they pulled off the actual job of hosting is another story. The opening worked for me. I greatly enjoyed traveling through Alec Baldwin's dreams and thought there were some great jokes in there.

But it raises the very simple question: Why not simply hire ONE comedian? It baffles the mind.

I know this seems the job to refuse -- but why? Find someone! SomeONE.

So what happens to this little blog now?


Well, I'm going to keep it up. I plan to review each film I see and roll this sucker right into next year's award season.

By the way, Trent Reznor has an Oscar.

It's The Day of the Show Y'all: Heartfelt Predictions

Here we are.

After all the waiting, nominated Angelinos are getting their morning coffee and anti-anxiety pills, swarmed by publicists and stylists, selecting the right outfit, the right quaff.

So how will it all go?

I humbly submit my sentimental predictions where I will -- admittedly -- present a combination of what I both expect and hope will occur this evening -- before we settle into a long March of half-baked movies awaiting the quality only May and beyond can bring.

And the winner is...?


Art Direction: Alice in Wonderland should win -- if The King's Speech takes it -- Christ, it might sweep.

Costume Design: Again, Alice in Wonderland -- again, if The King's Speech takes it -- Messiah, etc.

Makeup: The film only I saw on opening day -- The Wolfman.

Sound Editing, Sound Effects Editing, Visual Effects: All 3 will go to Inception, though True Grit took some sound awards just last week and this is often the haven of the Western or the War pic. But this time it seems the dream agents have it locked away. Any non-Nolan wins in these categories are straight-up snubs.

Original Score: As I said before this is one of "McCue's Telling Categories" -- true, a Trent Reznor Academy Award win is something none of us would have ever foreseen. Yes, we bring him "closer to God" -- but, closer to gold? That question never seemed possible. The fact that he is nominated as the cleaned-up score-ist of a Fincher-flick, all these many years past Se7en seems the only way this could come to pass. However, he did win the Golden Globe. And that often proves the kiss of death for musicians: these awards rarely align and it's highly possible Mr. Reznor and and Co-Scorer Atticus Ross will lose -- despite their excellent work.

Hans Zimmer's score for Inception is inspired and groundbreaking. But that buzz seems long faded.
Much as he would be a deserving winner the race is two-way: The Social Network or King's Speech.

Yes, this award will once again give us viewers an insight into which way this thing's tipping -- but this brings me back to Reznor and his surprising score success. This isn't David Byrne scoring The Last Emperor. This isn't Isham. This isn't Knopfler. And Alexandre Desplat is not some new man on the scene. This is Mr. Desplat's fourth nomination, having scored all of Wes Anderson's pictures, Benjamin Button, The Queen, The Ghost Writer, The Golden Compass (whose music was its lone redeeming quality), let alone New Moon, Julie and Julia, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.


But will any of that matter? Musicians nominated a zillion times often become musicians who are nominated another zillion times before winning -- just ask Randy Newman or his cousin Thomas Newman, who I think is perhaps the most under-rated under-acknowledged composer out there.

Yes, I just spent that amount of time talking about score -- the fact is, it's a category I love and it's far more essential to the overall film than people credit. I leave it a telling toss-up with hopes of a Zimmer upset.

Original Song: Over the years this has become the most pathetic Oscar category as the movie industry seems to have lost all interest in throwing together "song scores" of significant, original, catchy -- or frankly just plan good songs. The category is basically dead -- which is remarkable considering how most record companies are controlled by the same conglomerates that own the studios. Much as I loved Annie Lennox' "Into the West," the fact of the matter is the last significant song to win was Eminem's "Lose Yourself."

Grasp at all the straws you like, but Hustle and Flow, The Motorcycle Diaries, are far cries from "Let the River Run," "Take My Breath Away," "Streets of Philadelphia" or "My Heart Will Go On." The studios have left this ship to small films like Once and Crazy Heart. Frankly, I do not understand why.

But the question is, who's winning this year -- out of the collection of songs few of us have heard. With the exception of the "Coming Home" from Country Strong, the other three nominees have all won. Newman for Monsters, Inc., Rahman for Slumdog, and Alan Menken has -- that's right -- 8 Oscars.

Folks are talking about Rahman taking it for 127 Hours -- but I think it's Randy Newman's second. "We Belong Together" is no "I Love to See You Smile" or "You Got A Friend In Me" ... but the TS3 love should spill over to its musical maestro.

Cinematography: I firmly think Roger Deakins finally gets his due for True Grit.


Editing: While The Social Network is the odds on favorite -- and I think it will pull it out -- Black Swan could be the upset here. Especially if The Swan also snags Cinematography.

Foreign Film: Though early buzz seems to think there is nothing like a Dane, I'd actually be surprised if Biutiful -- depressant of audiences the world over -- didn't bring Inarritu a golden boy. Oscar already likes him -- this may be a chance to trophy the man.

Documentary Feature: The Inside Job seems to have it -- much as Exit Through the Gift Shop would be a delight.

I'm not even going to pretend to know what's going on in the short categories.

And now the great big biggies...


I'm going out on a limb with a few of these. Go ahead and judge.

Original Screenplay: Christopher Nolan, Inception


Adapted Screenplay: Aaron Sorkin, The Social Network


Supporting Actor: While it looks like Christian Bale has it in the bag for Fighter -- I see a Geoffrey Rush upset as a true possibility -- particular if Harvey has this thing in the bag.

Supporting Actress: I see True Grit's little Hailee Steinfeld as the upset of the evening. Melissa Leo is in the prime position of having previously locked a lead actress nom for a small movie and carefully playing her cards into a stellar supporting role. And perhaps it's my Fighter blindspot combined with my love of a young lady taking home an Oscar -- I'm looking at you, Anna Paquin -- but I smell an upset.

Actor: Is there a question? That reminds me -- I should go buy some Prosecco or something.

Actress: Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right

Director: David Fincher, The Social Network


Picture: The King's Speech buzz has gone straight on through the roof seemingly having slain The Social Network despite all its early victories. It also softens the blow when both Sorkin and Fincher seemingly have it in the bag. But I still think this is a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR toss up and we're simply not going to know until the envelope opens.

The King's Speech? The Social Network? True Grit? -- yes, I'm that crazy.

I truly don't know.

My hope -- regardless of The King's majestic simplicity -- is The Net -- since a deserved Inception upset seems impossible. 

We'll see in about 12 hours!

- Matthew J. McCue

Adapted Screenplay: Soar, Sorkin, Soar.

For all its split categorizing - Drama and Comedy/Musical - so twice as many folks can go home a winner, the screenplay category is the only Golden Globe category that goes from unicameral to bi when it hits Oscartown. Everyone's in one mix at the HFPA. At the Oscars, not so. Thus, screenplay proves the only category where The Social Network and The King's Speech share a rare, "Reverse Golden Globe". While The King's Speech finds itself in what I hope is a true bout of fisticuffs against Christopher Nolan's masterwork, Inception -- The Social Network stands in the adapted category.

They're not head to head -- each could win.

While I have my doubts about Mr. Seidler snagging screenplay out from under Nolan or Cholodenko -- Mr. Sorkin seems a dead lock. Though Fincher's directing steers The Social Network roller coaster as smoothly as a shark slicing through a currentless sea -- the tracks for the ride were laid by Mr. "West Wing" himself.

I'll wonder for the rest of my days why Mr. Sorkin felt it necessary to use his Golden Globe acceptance speech to simultaneously disavow any criticism of Mark Zuckerberg -- as if that weren't the entire point of the film -- and announce to his daughter that smart girls have more fun. I watched his appearance on Oprah; I heard his explanation; I'm still confused.

But sliding right alongside my wonder shall be my marvel at Aaron Sorkin's crisp, flawless writing.

Forget whether there's an oddball line or a scene that could go. The Social Network is one of those rare cases where there damn well may not be a syllable out of place. From Rooney Mara's character indictment to Rashida Jones' vain "cheer-up" attempt -- this thing's moving as quick and tight as Glengarry Glen Ross, and as timely and witty as Network. It doesn't trump either of those puppies -- certainly not Mamet's stage play -- and you certainly can't trump Finch, Dunaway, Duvall, and Holden. But to mix these two into a drinkable cocktail that goes down smooth despite having some of the best barbs in years -- what else can you expect from Mr. "You Can't Handle The Truth!"

Adapted normally isn't this "in the bag." In hindsight, many of the wins seem perfectly logical -- but only once the film has taken picture. But just take a look at last year: Precious sure as hell didn't walk in there as the odds on favorite. Nor did The Departed, Return of the King, The Pianist, or Traffic -- and if you don't believe me on the last one, do yourself a favor and click on any Harry Potter film's credits: that award was supposed to go another way.

But this year, Sorkin's sitting pretty as a Coen boy -- and oddly enough, they're up against him for a sizable piece of writing. But it just doesn't look like this one is ultimately going Joel and Ethan's way -- they'll have to settle for the hundreds of millions True Grit's raking in -- far more than Social Network, I might add.

127 Hours and Winter's Bone need to rest happily in the fact that they have been nominated. Neither stands a chance. Mr. Beaufoy and Danny Boyle can continue to bask in the glow of their recent Slumdog sweep. Every single person involved with Winter's Bone should consider every bit of attention this tiny film has caught an absolute triumph. There's simply no way a multi-nominated night at the Kodak was how these folks saw this playing out. My hat is off.

And then there's Michael Arndt. Something tells me not to discount Mr. Arndt.

(Free drink to the humanoid who nails that reference).

Perhaps the slickest move I made this summer was sliding off my Real 3D glasses with one hand and sliding on my Wayfarers with the other: I was like a T-1000. I got right out of Murray Hill dignity in hand! Whether I maintained my dignity and how deeply I breathed trying to get oxygen back into my 'til then vice-gripped heart is frankly none of your business.

Arndt nailed Toy Story 3 absolutely remarkably. I've said it before and I shall say it again -- this ten picture nonsense cannot last. We will fall back to the five. When we fall back to the five, the animated pictures will be back out of the race and left to their separate category so actors can rest assured their faces will stay up there on the screen.

Pixar's consistent high-quality must scare the bejesus out of everyone -- but sooner or later, Hollywood's absolute fear and jealousy usually turn into standing ovations of praise. Whether it's waiting until 1993 to give Spielberg an Oscar -- never awarding Hitchcock -- or waiting 'til Return of the King -- Hollywood comes around.

Will they this time? Dubious seems the kindest Tim Gunn word I can use. But if not now, when?

Luckily, Arndt already has an Oscar for Little Miss Sunshine and TS3 is a lock for animated feature.

It's pretty tough to put happy former winners up against a man whose made the room a fortune in television series and what must be the most unpredicted residuals of all time from The American President -- can anyone believe how much play that thing gets?! Sorkin's a star -- A Few Good Men, Charlie Wilson's War -- and it's pretty tough to be a star writer for too long without an Oscar, unless of course you're a woman not named Jhabvala -- but that's an article for a different time.

Thus, I hope Michael Arndt kisses his original screenplay Oscar lightly on the head before limo-ing down Hollywood Boulevard. Stars align now and again -- just ask Julian Fellowes. But Sunday seems set for Sorkin.

- Matthew J. McCue

Animal Kingdom: Australia, what a blast!

"I been around a long time, sweetie." - Jackie Weaver


One of the recurring phenomena of the Academy Awards is a tip of the hat to one of the tiniest films of the year and an exceptional performance. Most of that hat-tipping seemed aimed at Winter's Bone -- the indie triumph of the year with picture, actress, supporting actor, and screenplay nominations. Somehow, that slew of high ranking noms bumps Winter's Bone from the title of "itsy bitsy with giant success" toward something a little more in the range of The Crying Game. The bars are a little less classy. The men a bit more masculine. The accents a bit more difficult to understand. But it's the film cinephiles saw -- or at least felt they had  to see, knowing full well award season was coming.

And then there's Animal Kingdom and its supporting actress nominee Jackie Weaver. Her nomination could be written off by some as "that one they keep nominating" -- as if she somehow gained early critical acclaim and an elite level of movie buffs continually puts her name forth as a given. I even wondered this myself. I wondered it for the first hour of the movie.

Jackie Weaver is no Judi Dench. She's not playing Queen Elizabeth. Tom Stoppard isn't filling her mouth with words. So even an hour in, I got to wondering where's the Outback Steakhouse approved Grade A Angus beef? Would this turn out to be some Beatrice Straight Network performance where it all came down to one big scene of Jackie Weaver screaming through the visiting room glass, during the trial, or back at home once her boys were sent off to prison?

On the contrary.

What's so fascinating about Animal Kingdom -- which is not the easiest film to wade through and certainly takes its sweet meandering time to make it through a relatively contained story -- is that it explores each hunk of plot separately. There's a distinct set of characters and a clear chain of events that takes place between the start and finish of this little Aussie thriller, but that doesn't mean one automatically leads to the next or that the drug dealers and cops playing out this "call and response" crime-flick are always the exact same arrangement of blokes.

For some reels, you spend more time with the cop, the lawyer, this uncle, that uncle, your girlfriend's mom. You wander. And young Jay, the fulcrum of the plot, is not always the guide. The audience is privy to many vitally important scenes and slivers of information Jay finds out far too late -- or never at all. Thus, Jackie Weaver's emergence from the "Gimme a hug" matriarch who lingered in the background to the cold hearted nana who wants her grandson whacked was as surprising as it was thrilling.

The entire film changed when this mama bear stared through glass at her arrested sons -- one a cold hearted murderer, the other a sweeter blond who might not be able to hack it on the inside -- and made her decision. She did it all with one key line. She turned away from the cold calculating son who was asking all the right questions about the trial, bail, how to proceed, etc. Weaver turns to her quiet blond boy and poses a very simple question:  "How you keepin', hon?" Like she was visiting him at the hospital, sleepaway camp, or boarding school. And like any mother who cares too much -- she sure as hell ain't leaving him there.

But unlike my mother who allowed me to leave the Montessori education system when I found it undesirable as a kindergardener, Jackie Weaver isn't simply requesting a transfer. She's putting out a hit on the boy who turned state's evidence -- her own grandson.

"We've got to do something about Jay. He's gotta go."

The way Jackie Weaver takes a hard look at the corner her family is in and calculates the best way to keep as many family members alive and landing on "Easy, we kill the youngest one!" is something we haven't seen before. Weaver plays the role with precision and with an air of constant calculation. It's impossible to tell where she'll land or what ultimate outcome will satisfy her -- regardless of her own orders!

Ms. Weaver's nomination is unquestionably deserved despite its possibly having blocked or knocked Ms. Kunis out of the game. A Weaver win is doubtful. But expect to see this Aussie in many a film to come.

- Matthew J. McCue