Fortune favors the bold, I see someone say in response to TimothĂ©e Chalamet’s Screen Actors Guild award speech accepting the actor for Best Leading Actor for A Complete Unknown. It’s a film I have yet to see, but a performance I don’t doubt was wholly worthy of it. Chalamet’s acting capacity is one that has always stuck out to me, perhaps it was Beautiful Boy or Dune or Little Women or … there are too many to choose from, but somewhere across the journey of his filmography his capacity to consistently make me feel something has been unparalleled — a characteristic belonging only to the greats, as is his aspiration. I suspect he is very much well on his way there.Â
It was Mikey Madison in Anora that has kept me following this awards season with a closeness I’ve never felt called to do. Last November, I ventured out alone to see the film, not expecting to see a performance I would recall so often months later. Its concept is one I don’t think is revolutionary or has never been done before, but that matters little here when Madison puts on that kind of performance. Its depth is hidden within humor, but it can still be seen in every single minute. This inability of mine to perfectly articulate just how altering that film was in exactly the way I want is why I think we watch movies — to walk away leaving a little bit changed, unsure of how and in what ways, but knowing it’s there. That isn’t any less real.Â
For me, the breakout performance of the year was Maisy Stella in My Old Ass, a film that evoked my tears in a way as natural as blinking or breathing. It’s funny how poignant coming-of-age movies are for me now, especially as a 20-something-year-old, now tentatively past the age range where the coming of age typically happens. I feel beyond the scope, and yet…whether it’s just nostalgia now or perhaps because it’s never too late to come across the intersection of childhood and adulthood in such a profound way, My Old Ass, and the way it made me feel, is a testament to that.Â
Moonlight, for all of you Letterboxd users, is one of my four favorites. While I will admit it’s particularly easy for me to cry while consuming some form of art or media — I like to joke that I’m overly sensitive when it comes to movies — Moonlight was something different, a little untouchable in the way I haven’t found it replicated in any other film. It follows the life of Chiron across three different chapters as he explores and comes to terms with his identity. It’s a master class, under two hours long, in demonstrating tenacity, loneliness, boyhood, and acceptance. A Letterboxed review writes that it is, “visual poetry with the emotional depth of the f*cking ocean itself.” I think that covers it perfectly.Â
And the thing is, with these films, it doesn’t just end with the credits. These moments attach themselves to us, I know it in the way that while writing this I felt the same way I did when I first watched them. It’s like they become living and breathing people, somewhere out there existing in this very world, walking with us. The stories they tell feel too true not to be.Â
Their impact is tangible too — I can hear it when these actors are somehow lucky enough to win awards commending them for such work.Â
It’s evident in the speech given by Michelle Yeoh, after winning the Oscar for Best Actress in Everything Everywhere All at Once. She was the first Asian woman to do so. “For all the little boys and girls who look like me watching today, this is a beacon of hope and possibilities,” said Yeoh.
Or in the speech given by Ke Huy Yuan for his performance in the same film. “My journey started on a boat. I spent a year in a refugee camp, and somehow, I ended up here on Hollywood’s biggest stage. They say stories like this only happen in the movies, I cannot believe it’s happening to me.”
How do we hear anecdotes like these, and not be convinced of the power of film and art? It’s representation and comfort and joy and escapism and beyond.Â
Their impact on me is, albeit less so than that on actors like these, but still something worthwhile. In a past article of mine, I wrote, “This sentiment won’t be the root of the change we need and seek, but like that art I told you to turn to, perhaps it’ll be enough to keep you going for a short while.”
That is the whole point, I think. Put it in bold, underline it, add an exclamation point at the end, and then add a couple more just for good measure.Â
Find movies like those I just mentioned — something that feels like a bit of you — and hold it until you find the next one. There is always a next one.