And the Oscar goes to...?

Rating: 8/10 (2 February 2006)

Let me start by saying that this year's Oscar nominated pictures are, contrary to the popular argument, by no means weaker than the films we heard about so much last year. In fact, the opposite seems true.
Last year's battle was truly one of the giants - between Martin Scorsese and Clint Eastwood, Johnny Depp and Leo DiCaprio, Jamie Foxx and... Jamie Foxx, Hilary Swank and Kate Winslet. All relatively, most indisputably big names, and not too many surprises at the end of the day (unless one counts MDB's eventual triumph, predicted by Ebert the night before).
That being said, we all know that the Big Five are more about the issues they raise than the people they feature, and last year the issues tackled could not have made a greater contrast with the big names behind the production. The best picture candidates studied the life of a peculiar individual, individual struggle with death, an individual's quest for identity, the life of a peculiar individual, and an individual struggle with death. Of course, one might and probably should further try to differentiate - Million Dollar Baby and Finding Neverland deal with the issue of life and death in a drastically different fashion, even as Ray and Hughes were two different and distinctive characters. Yet the sight that emerges reveals more than slight a tendency for intimate storytelling, or films that are interested in one's personal struggle rather than larger-than-life issues.
This year the direction of research and acknowledgment go the other way.
Among the Big Five, only Capote appears to look inward. Brokeback Mountain, Crash, Good Night and Good Luck, Munich all study issues critical to our day and age, i.e. life in our complex world in general. BM relates a story of two American men living a lie - a tragedy readily applicable to a number of gay people in this country, Crash studies racial stereotypes, while GN&GL masterfully reapplies a past conflict in the present situation by merely retelling a modern legend and letting the viewer's mind do the math.
Which brings us to Munich. I must say that Spielberg has been a disappointment to me lately. The man has far too much greatness and vision to be wasting his time on the likes of Minority Report, Catch Me if You Can, or War of the Worlds. There are a number of directors who could have done those and fared at least as well. To complete the picture of an utter waste of talent which Spielberg the director has been for precisely seven years now we'll say that, in spite of their occasional glimpses of greatness, The Terminal and A.I. both fared rather poorly in achieving their goals.
With Munich Spielberg repeats what he had already once accomplished with Saving Private Ryan (how that movie lost the Best Picture to an amusing, but totally inferior to it Shakespeare in Love, will forever remain a mystery), and that is an unbiased look at the events that, once having touched millions of lives, continued to change them in dramatic ways beyond repair and to the point of no return.
A brilliant study of an historical event with its consequences and ramifications, Munich wastes no time on individual actors' efforts. That is not to say that such efforts are not readily encountered courtesy of Eric Bana who wears his character every step of Avner's downward journey, or Daniel Craig who seems to be warming up for his first 007 outing, but merely that the circumstance they and other characters find themselves in is one of such magnitude that it becomes simply impossible to dedicate too much attention to these more than mildly interesting individuals.
As Saving Private Ryan once was, Munich too is chalk full of scenes of sheer and utter brilliance. A dialog between Avner and a Muslim springs to mind: one of the men yet does not know that the other is his greatest enemy and speaks freely on certain matters, meanwhile the other's face is a case study of generations that have lived through a war. There is no way I will hereby spoil Avner's eventual change reflected via, in perhaps more than one way a climactic scene, but I will say this: the pain of millions of people has never been documented out in a manner as frighteningly beautiful as that single scene.
Two things need to be said about Munich, as this motion picture begins to gather pace in the Best Picture race. Unlike Brokeback Mountain and Crash, two incredibly beautiful, thought provoking, and masterfully executed films, Munich strikes one with its lack of partiality. It does not criticize, but neither does it support any single decision that we watch its characters make. While Brokeback Mountain and Crash suggest alternatives (and Crash goes as far as implement such, too), Munich has really nothing to say with regard to its subject matter. Rather, when all is said and done, the viewer is left stunned and wondering if they agree with Avner's choice, or even if Avner himself sees it as right. This remarkable impartiality is, however, not the greatest thing about Munich.
The greatest strength of this film is its status of an eyewitness of the events far surpassing the suffering of the gay people in the present day United States, or the pain of the immigrants and people of color who often find themselves subject to life-long humiliation. The pain documented out in Munich surpasses that suffered by the above groups of individuals because the movie portrays death in such an ordinary way, and human life as worth so little a price, that the viewer cannot help but wonder if the whole affair might be one giant exaggeration.
It is not. And that is why on the night of the 2006 Academy Awards, after all is said and done, Munich will emerge with a single award - but one it deserves the most: the Best Picture.