The Academy Award discourse may be long over by now, but I’m too angry to stay silent. As per usual, the AMPAS can suck my uncle Oscar. If only I had a snarky low-effort online column where I could alienate my small readership with volatile and poorly researched opinions. Welcome back to Who Put That On? Vol. V. (Pssst this is future Dylan… this one’s pretty self-serving.)
I’ll say it: 2026 was a mediocre year for movies. If I have to watch another three-hour film with a disappointing ending and an orange movie poster, I might fuck around and seek inner peace in a less passive and more fulfilling personal hobby. Just kidding! Here are my schizophrenic ramblings on this year’s Hollywood crud.
I anticipated the One Battle After Another Best Picture dub, but I found this to be an incredibly disappointing entry in PTA’s catalogue. Not enough people reference how cliché the end is (especially for a bumbling 180 minute runtime). Sidenote: the idea of a $180,000,000 film about anarchism is a funny bit, especially when Anderson’s political Oscar’s statement was… On a different note, I love you Sean Penn; please don’t die so I can continue smoking cigarettes without guilt (a much-deserved win for best supporting actor).
Let’s talk about Sinners, another trophy vacuum. Sure, it absolutely deserved gold for Screenplay and Score, but I felt its claims to Cinematography and Best Actor were a little gimmicky. Had it been nominated, Sentimental Value’s consistent S-tier framing eclipses Arkpaw’s one generational music oner. As far as Michael B. Jordan’s performance(s)—guys, he played two of the same hot guy. The main differences were their hats and oral fixations. They walked into different rooms, put their hands on their hips, nodded approval, and then boom! Action movie—rat-tat-tat-tat, dak-dak-dak-dak, tat-tat-tat. Oh no, they’re coming in. Brrrrt, thud-thud-thud, dak-dakka-dakka. With that said, I do think Sinner’s is a potent piece of art. I highly recommend reading Misty Avinger’s piece The Price of Being Let In: Sinners and the Lie of Liberation, published on Bright Lights.
Next up, the Safdie cortisol bath: Marty Supreme—and boy does that bath come tearing through the ceiling. Marty felt tight, snappy, and engaging with no real message besides, ambition is one hell of a drug. You can’t give him an Oscar or you’ll create a demon (well he already sort of is), but Timotheé drove that flick with a lead foot and persuasion. All the performances in Marty were rock solid (I love you Odessa), but Timotheé was that movie. Honestly, if engagement is the only requisite for Best Picture (which I know it’s not) Marty Supreme should have taken the cake.
Hamnet is cool. I’m in love with Jessie Buckley and was excited to see her take best actress. The whole flick was a bit one-note, but a cry is a cry. I think you can siphon a more unique version of the same thrill from a movie like You Won’t Be Alone. Hamnet was absolutely robbed of the Oscar for Achievement in Casting—those kids were phenomenal. Bottom line, a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio in the leading role should never win best casting.
Let’s talk about Sentimental Value. Am I the only one who thought it was underwhelming? Scandinavian Bill Murray experiences no personal growth or humility while he waits for his two neglected daughters to inevitably read his banger movie. Pretty filmmaking, with a couple dramatic heights, but I will absolutely forget about this movie. Checkmark for Best International Feature. Better than One Battle After Another, but barely.
I like films that start with gas station scenes. The Secret Agent is a classy flick with something to say, but I found myself waiting for its end. Speaking of conclusions, that hospital scene did nothing for me. This deserved lots of nominations and no wins, and that’s sort of what happened.
Frankenstein was a bit of a shallow and droning movie, but any time someone rips the face skin off a wolf, my inner child jumps up and down. There was just something ridiculous about the action that drew me to this film. Two deserved victories for Production and Makeup. Oh my fuck, rotten Jacob Elordi with a middle part and hair tucked behind his ears; he could make my asshole Frankenstein’s monster.
Okay speed round!
- F1 vroooooooooooom, I will watch this on a plane one day with eight-dollar headphones made of the same plastic used for Kinder-surprise toys.
- Who cares about Avatar: Fire and Ash?
- Watching K-pop Demon Hunters made me realize I am a sad person.
- Happy for Amy Madigan for her best supporting actress win. Weapons (2025) was fun.
- Fake movie fan alert! I didn’t watch any of the documentaries or shorts—although I did guess Mr. Nobody versus Putin would win, purely based on all the signs I saw when I visited New York.
Finally, I need to talk about my personal favourite 2025 film from none other than the Greek freak—slanger of absurdist caricatures and servant of Emma Stone—Yorgos Lanthimos. Bugonia has it all: drive, cinematography, cultural commentary, stellar performances, and that essential touch of weird that I seem to require in all my cinema. You can feel Yorgos’ unflinching hand dialling up the stakes, and this picture feels like the most focused of all his features. The ending is inevitable, while also unbelievable, and it refreshes the taste of unrelenting ragdoll violence with hysterics. This is the movie that I will remember from this Oscar season. Bugonia should have won Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Directing, and Jesse Plemmons deserved Best Actor. Shout out Aidan Delbis; his performance and character stunned me. First time I cried in a Yorgos movie—that’s big.
I feel the resentment draining from the atriums of my heart, so I’ll stop now. I’m also realizing I maybe should have saved this rant for one of my innocent friends. Last note: Park Chan Wook’s, No Other Choice should have gotten a nomination for something. It honestly could have swept categories like cinematography, directing, and… I don’t know… Best Fucking Picture? (Two Korean films can be in the same year; Hollywood will not collapse.)
For tradition sake, let’s discuss a few of my favourite Oscar-winning films from years gone by.
Anatomy of a Fall (2023) dir. Justine Triet
Maybe the tightest courtroom drama ever made. This is an absolute ten-out-of-ten.
Anatomy of a Fall doesn’t necessarily boast a glittery synopsis: a husband falls from a two-story window, trauma to the skull suggests foul play, and the court points fingers at his wife who has managed an incredibly successful writing career. Triet delivers all the suspense of a whodunnit while exploring gender-role biases and the filthy, honest, and dynamic nature of intimacy. Sandra Huller and Milo Machado-Graner, who plays Huller’s son, both deliver gritty, breathtaking performances.
2023 seemed to be a prominent year for feminist film. Barbie, Poor Things, and Anatomy of a Fall all examined different corners of femininity, with unique levels of tone and realism. Disclaimer: I am a dumb boy with a skull softer than a bounce-house, and and by no means know what I’m talking about.
I was fascinated by the online debate comparing Poor Things against Anatomy of a Fall, discussing which was the more valuable feminist feature. Where Poor Things engaged sexuality as a tool for liberation, using broad surrealist strokes to claim/celebrate an aspect of the gender binary, Anatomy of a Fall explored a realistic and critical reaction to a woman defying that binary. I thought the dichotomy was intriguing, and the two films would make an excellent double feature. If only I hadn’t spent all my words selfishly ranting about Oscar films people have already forgotten about, I might actually string together something interesting.
This film should have beaten Zone of Interest for Best International Feature, but Anatomy of a Fall still picked up Best Original Screenplay that year, and Sandra Huller was in Zone of Interest, so who is really counting? I recommend watching Anatomy of a Fall overtop the lenses of your reading glasses, pen and page in hand.
Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio (2022) dir. Guillermo del Toro
I think this is the first time I’ve featured a musical on Who Put That On? Wowee.
Weirdly enough, this was one of three Pinocchio films released in 2022, including a Disney+ live-action retelling and a random cheap Russian-produced version. Rare shout-out to Netflix for rescuing this near-bankrupt stop-motion beauty, which is currently the longest stop-motion animated film ever made—wowee, again!
GDT decided to spawn the ol’ wooden boy right into the heart of fascist WWII Italy, which I think is pretty fun. Cate Blanchett voices a monkey; bet you didn’t see that coming. Ewan McGregor plays the cricket, and he gets an epic solo musical number. One of my greatest frustrations with this film is that they decided to change the name of Jiminy Cricket to Sebastian J. Cricket, which is a completely unnecessary and blatant display of overwriting. Tim Wolfard plays Mussolini or something; I don’t know. I don’t even care. This movie is just a cool dark retelling of a classic fucking story. Everything Is New To Me is a banger.
I often watch kids’ movies and think, while that’s objectively a sloppier, vapid version of the kids’ movies I grew up with. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio avoids that pitfall, and for that, it deserved the 2022 Academy Award for Best Animated Feature. I recommend watching this movie with a kid. Doesn’t really matter which one. Just any kid. First one you see on the street.
Druk (2020) dir. Thomas Vinterberg
I am just realizing what a European turn this list has taken.
Druk, alternatively titled Another Round, is a Danish 2020 black comedy about high school teachers boozing Hemingway style. Posed as an experiment, a group of four high school teachers attempt to maintain a blood alcohol level of 0.05% during working hours. No booze on weekends, and not a drop after 8pm. The four men, all suffering from some form of middle-aged apathy, take to the experiment, finding a liveliness and renewed connection with their students. That’s it. Certainly nothing bad happens; no habits, no increases to the limit—just a well-executed experiment between a couple of Danish gentlemen.
I’ve been engaging in an adjacent study where I drink chocolate milk and do whippets from 8 am until 8 pm; it’s supposed to release your inner child. Sidenote: have you ever tried huffing ether? It’s honestly a similar high to alcohol. The chemical is diethyl. I’m no chemist, but that word shares a lot of letters with ethyl. I thought this sentence from Wikipedia was funny:
“Studies, including that of an ether addict in 2003, have shown that ether causes addiction; however, the only symptom observed was a will to consume more ether. No withdrawal symptoms were prevalent.”
Druk is an all-around fun and easy watch. Mads Mikkelsen is charming as usual, the film’s pacing is satisfying, and the ending is unexpected. This took home an Oscar for best International Picture, and also a surprise nomination for best director. I recommend watching Druk with a growler full of ether tucked between your legs—for science.
Adaptation (2002) dir. Charlie Kaufman
This is a perfect film. Easily in my top ten favourite of all time. Adaptation requires no explanation, and most people already know how incredible it is.
What people don’t know is in 2002 Charlie Kaufman had been nominated for several Academy Awards for both Adaptation and Being John Malkovich. To create a better chance of winning in the writing and direction categories Kaufman credited his twin brother, Donald Kaufman, as co-writer of Adapation. Charlie Kaufman doesn’t actually have a twin brother. Donald Kaufman is nothing but a character within Adaptation, and the only fictional character to ever win an Academy Award.
I recommend watching Adaptation in the midst of a mental breakdown. Possibly in place of writing a column entry.
You know what I’ve learned while grinding out this mediocre entry about the Oscars. Who cares? We will all eventually commune as a cloud of dust blowing in the cosmic void, manoeuvred by solar winds and forgotten by all our gods. One Battle After Another is not that good, and without the theatre experience, it’s a mediocre car chase movie with a good antagonist. Finally, I may rest.
