The Oscar nominations have been announced, and, while some celebrate, others commiserate. The word snub is getting its yearly workout, though it's easy to see why it's on the tip of everybody's tongue. This was a hard-to-predict year full of volatile lineups, not to mention a couple of dark horses crashing the party after most had considered them over. Grassroots campaigns won out while the precursors' importance keeps dwindling, and first-time nominees are more numerous than they've been in decades. Amid the chaos, it's time to fulfill an annual tradition here at The Film Experience, honoring those performances that probably came close to Oscar gold but missed the ballot at the last moment. Without further ado, let's give a warm welcome to the Almost There class of 2022…
Viola Davis, THE WOMAN KING
After securing nominations from SAG, BAFTA, for the Globed and Critics Choice Awards, Davis seemed well-poised to achieve her fifth Oscar nomination. Sadly, that did not come to pass, though it's in no way indicative of subpar work. Her star turn in Gina Prince-Bythewood's The Woman King is a masterclass in historical epic acting, negotiating the demands of melodrama and action with austere finesse. Though she's a thespian of theatrical training whose vocal delivery is often at the center of characterizations, the role of Nanisca showcases Davis' physicality, her ability to telegraph much with little more than a growing tension around her shoulders. It's all about expressing gradations of control, heartbreak, and motherly concern slipping through the cracks of a warrior's stoicism.
Danielle Deadwyler, TILL
Few contemporary directors understand the cinematic properties of the human face better than Chinonye Chukwu, whose sophomore picture is just as much of an acting showcase as her debut. Indeed, Deadwyler follows in the steps of Alfre Woodard, whose performance in Clemency was nothing short of earth-shattering. As Mamie Till Mobley, she's asked to support her director's often claustrophobic framing, carving through the usual tenets of dramatized history in search of something so raw it can be hard to watch. Rather than go for prestige-ready restraint, Deadwyler can be exceedingly big. Indeed, she takes risks every step of the way, right until a prolonged testimony that represents one of the most audacious pieces of screen acting in 2022.
Margot Robbie, BABYLON
One cannot fault Robbie for lack of commitment, nor can she be accused of misunderstanding the kind of film she was in. If anything, the Australian starlet embodies the best qualities of Damien Chazelle's Babylon, as well as its worst failures. Her Nellie LaRoy is a self-proclaimed wild child turned movie star, a chimeric refraction of numerous real people transformed into a vision of sweaty chaos. Though she can't quite pull off the manic precipices of Nellie's last acts, there's brilliance in the woman's early rise, her near-mechanic control of projected emotion and naked despair. Does Robbie reconcile every concept she's meant to represent? Not necessarily, but it's fun – sometimes exhausting – to see her try.
Tom Cruise, TOP GUN: MAVERICK
For better and for worse, Tom Cruise is one of our last real movie stars. In this long-gestating sequel to his 1986 jingoistic hit, he delivers a performance befitting that status. It's not especially complex character work, more of an embodiment of surfaces and projected moods, a sentimental streak of melancholy rippling through a near-suicidal need to be a hero. There's value in the simplicity, in the work of someone doing exactly what his movie needs, even if that doesn't fall into the standards of what one considers awards-worthy acting. Blunt as fuck, it's all about being a vehicle for cinematic excitement and never engaging with the material in anything but sincere good faith. There's no twist here, just straightforward popcorn entertainment.
Jeremy Pope, THE INSPECTION
While never overcoming his film's limitations, Jeremy Pope significantly elevates Elegance Bratton's vision. First, one must contend with the obvious matter of the actor's magnetism, an innate ability to magnetize the camera and make it feel like an electric current is coursing through the screen. However, he doesn't stop there, crafting a character defined by the many truths he's learned to close off from the world. And yet, there's tenderness in the mix, the surprise of a sunny smile to break the tension of steely muscle and systematized aggression. His scenes with Gabrielle Union make a whole unsaid history come alive in the loaded silences, uneasily shared and bound to be shattered by maternal cruelty.
Adam Sandler, HUSTLE
Over the years, Adam Sandler has peppered his career with reminders that, if he wanted, he could have been one helluva dramatic actor. Punch-Drunk Love is the most obvious example, but there are also The Meyerowitz Stories and Uncut Gems, among others. Now, we got Hustle too. This last one is such a perfect example because watching it with no previous knowledge of Sandler's career, one wouldn't suppose he was an established comedian. His work as a basketball scout is a small miracle of naturalism tempered with a sense of aged exhaustion, never too loud or overbearing, consistently generous towards every scene partner. His vulnerability is the main show, however, especially when disappointment hits, the glimpse of a dream come true dying the moment it comes into view.
Jessie Buckley, WOMEN TALKING
Despite managing a Best Picture nomination, Sarah Polley's adaptation of Miriam Toews' Women Talking underperformed when we think back to people's original predictions upon the film's festival premiere. One of the saddest outcomes was its inability to win the cast any nominations, including for Buckley, who got her first nod last season for The Lost Daughter. Her supporting turn as Mariche is undoubtedly one of the film's showiest achievements, biting into the text's theatrical properties with a ferocity that can be off-putting but never accidental. If Claire Foy succeeded by illuminating the fear in rage, this Irish actor does the opposite. Her triumph resides in the foregrounding of fury above Mariche's surface arguments for inaction.
Nina Hoss, TÁR
Cate Blanchett's Lydia Tár is such a titanic creation that it's difficult to share a scene with her without being obliterated right off the screen. And yet, Hoss never feels like a presence who could be snuffed out by her leading lady's explosion of technique. Instead, she's a necessary anchor, tethering the character drama to a palpable reality that's hard to grasp from within the maestro's fractious subjectivity. The German actress delivers the film's most quietly complex characterization by hinting at different levels of understanding, resignation, and even complicity. If you let your eyes drift to Hoss on the margins of scenes, you'll catch an entire other film happening in parallel with Blanchett's TÁR.
Dolly De Leon, TRIANGLE OF SADNESS
It's not a secret that I'm not a Ruben Östlund fan, nor that his latest satire's Oscar success tasted like ash in my mouth. That said, one element of the Palme d'Or winner survives this auteur allergy, even finding ways to make the unfunny humor seem chuckle-worthy. This miracle worker is Filipino actress Dolly De Leon, who appears briefly in the film's yacht-bound second act before taking control of the narrative in the shipwrecked last third. Her reclamations of power are no uncomplicated underclass triumph, however. Instead, De Leon and Östlund deliver a classic tale of corruption, abuse, dominance. Most of all, her last scene is a stunner, haunting and horror-adjacent – nomination-worthy!
Janelle Monáe, GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY
Watching only the first half of Rian Johnson's Knives Out follow-up, you might suppose Monáe's performance is a tad too limited to have accrued such a lofty reputation. For most of that runtime, the NBR winner builds her character as a collection of striking poses, gleaming surfaces of elegant outrage, haughty speeches dripping with over-rehearsed righteousness. Suddenly, everything changes in the second half. Her performance is deepened as secrets are revealed, and its quirks are justified. Escalating to a glass-shattering, fire-blazing climax, Monáe is in tune with the picture's zany tonalities, delivering what the contrived plot needed. She compensates for sometimes wobbly technique with charisma to spare. However, this is no supporting role.
Carey Mulligan, SHE SAID
You know who also has no business competing in this category – Miss Promising Young Woman herself. As The New York Times's Megan Twohey, Carey Mulligan is as central to She Said's narrative and structure as Zoe Kazan. Moreover, she's much more of a tonal arbiter than her costar, leading the picture along with her. By going very small, Mulligan invites the audience to come closer, to percolate on post-partum depression alleviated by outrage, embodying journalistic competence in the face of horror. More than anything, she's incandescent with rage but rarely overt about it, wrapping herself into a tense knot that's bound to unleash a whiplash of energy from time to time. Honestly, I haven't been this impressed by Mulligan since Wildlife.
Paul Dano, THE FABELMANS
Speaking of Wildlife, that film's actor-turned-director continues to be overlooked by the Academy, no matter how many Oscar nominations his projects obtain. With The Fabelmans, this is especially wild, considering it got a Best Supporting Actor nod. Unfortunately for Dano, while he nabbed the precursors, Judd Hirsch won AMPAS' recognition. None of that diminishes the quality of his work as a fictionalized version of Spielberg's father, a man with a scientific mind whose heart belongs to artistic-inclined mysteries. Re-watching the movie, early qualms fell away as new complexities emerged, shows of dazzlement and powerlessness, swallowed frustrations played off with comedic lightness. Regard kindness so emphatic it gets vexing, unintended condescension born out of ignorance. One lost look near the end is shattering stuff, maybe Dano's best individual scene to date.
Brad Pitt, BABYLON
In many ways, Babylon's free-whiling spirit is embodied by Robbie's chaotic presence, while Diego Calva shapes its main arc and serves as a bridge to Chazelle's ultimate thesis. As the last lead in the three-headed narrative, Brad Pitt has the benefit of being unburdened by such responsibilities. Instead, the Oscar-winner plays a character modeled after John Gilbert with sprinkles of John Barrymore in Dinner at Eight. In other words, he's not saddled with ineffable historical concepts but a concrete human tragedy that starts in suave comedic style. For what it's worth, Pitt delivers, working out Babylon's most consistent performance without breaking a sweat, right until the character's self-delusions crash like a house of cards in the face of Jean Smart's truth-telling.
Eddie Redmayne, THE GOOD NURSE
The meme-fication of any performance is a cruel misrepresentation. In the case of Eddie Redmayne in The Good Nurse, it's even worse because the moment in question is so singular, even aberrant, within the film. Indeed, though his police station scene is all about shouted repetition, this is a chillingly muted performance that finds the actor making a concerted effort to be as inexpressive as possible without looking alien. In some ways, this results in one of Redmayne's most disciplined creations, a measured feat whose silences are as loud as an atomic bomb going off. On the other hand, none of it feels intuitive, giving off airs of constant effort and forced mundanity. In retrospect, though, overplayed underplaying makes sense for the character.
Ben Whishaw, WOMEN TALKING
Though it would have been nice for any member of the Women Talking cast to get a nomination, if that person had been its sole male actor would have been a bad look, for sure. Moreover, as much as it pains me to say, while Whishaw is good, he ranks pretty low within the ensemble, often erring on the side of over-demonstrativeness, perhaps to compensate for the limitations of a role whose purpose is to listen passively. His character's backstory being virtually erased also forces him to fake an American accent when his natural British cadence might have been more appropriate. Still, it's perfectly solid work and would have made a sound nominee.
Some of these achievements deserve the full Almost There treatment, complete with an extensive write-up, analysis cum deep-dive. However, since I can't cover all of them in the incoming weeks, it's your turn to do like the Academy and vote. Pick whoever you'd like to see further explored in this series by voting on the poll below:
Also, be the Frances Fisher you wish to see in the world and advocate for your pick in the comments.