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Hugh Jackman (centre) in The F.ront Runner. |
Movie-wise, 2018 culminated in the lamest Christmas season in years; aside
from
Mary Poppins Returns,
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, three of the six
segments in the Coen Brothers’
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, and Peter Jackson’s
extraordinary World War I documentary
They Shall Not Grow Old, I didn’t see a single film I
could get behind. And the dim slate of Academy Award nominations for Best
Picture confirm the widespread disgruntlement about the caliber of last
year’s releases. Actually, it wasn’t quite as terrible a year for movies as
the list of nominees indicates. It’s just that in 2018, even more radically
than in most years, the majority of the interesting films were sidelined –
they opened only briefly, and only in a few cities, and didn’t draw the
attention they deserved. (Ironically, the other cadre of movies worth
checking out resided at the other end of the spectrum: the franchise movies
that saturated the cineplexes over the summer, most of which were immensely
enjoyable.) This was the year of
Blaze,
Hearts Beat Loud,
The Sisters Brothers,
Paddington 2,
Leave No Trace,
Juliet, Naked,
Christopher Robin,
The Death of Stalin,
Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot and
Journey’s End. And of
The Front Runner,
Jason Reitman’s movie about Gary Hart’s doomed bid for the Democratic
presidential candidacy in 1988, which a friend helpfully steered me to a
couple of weeks ago. It’s amazing that a movie as good as this one, by a
respected director and with a major star (Hugh Jackman), released at the
beginning of prestige-movie season (it came out Thanksgiving week), could
have slipped by virtually unnoticed.