“ 2022年奥斯卡提名的短片：纪录片”评论：Netflix主导中长期类别
‘2022 Oscar-Nominated Short Films: Documentary’ Review: Netflix Dominates Mid-Length-Doc Category
人们制作有关各种事情的纪录片：有些轻微而愚蠢，有些教育或情感。但是，如果您想获得DOC Short类别的奥斯卡奖提名，那么最好介绍该学院可以落后的问题，例如无家可归，欺凌或偏见。试想一下，如果其他类别是相同的方式 - 例如，如果最佳声音混合奖仅认可了从事使世界变得更美好的电影的工程师，但它会如此。至少今年的所有五个提名人对其受试者都是可靠的（有时是相当复杂的）治疗方法。正如罗杰·埃伯特（Roger Ebert）曾经说过的那样：“这不是电影的目的，而是它的目的。”“ Audible”是艺术，即使该项目起源于电视广告。这部电影集中在马里兰州聋人学校的少数学生上，他们的足球队多年来没有输给其他任何人，这部电影都集中在小屏幕上的三个Netflix获得的参赛作品中的三个（今年的NOM均已发布到小屏幕上）之一。听力障碍团队。十年前，导演马特·奥贡斯（Matt Ogens）在学校为丰田（Toyota）的“混战线”运动拍摄了一部分，然后年复一年返回，找到合适的学生小组来展示一个更个人化的项目。他降落在阿马里（Amaree）上，这是一位成年后的祖先，被一个亲密的自杀摇动。有着精湛的视觉感（从他2007年的好莱坞大道上的梦docs doc“超级英雄的供词”中可以清楚地看出）奥格登在这里进行了音频实验，从而创造性地设计了一种与这些非凡的年轻人的增强认同。本月初，HBO收购了杰伊·罗森布拉特（Jay Rosenblatt）的《当我们是欺负者》（Wher Wher Duleies），这是一部论文电影，导演继续探索一个年级欺凌的实例。罗森布拉特不是受害者，而是事件中的一位肇事者，其中整个班级都打开一个孩子，这些年来他一直在为罪恶感而奋斗。短裤服务这是1994年“燃烧蚂蚁的气味”的后续行动，在其中，他将男孩的档案镜头融合在一起，观察到了他们在美国文化中的调节方式：“男孩在很大程度上成为男孩，因为不是女孩。那些不知道这一点的人是被殴打的人。”通过一个奇怪的巧合，那部电影的叙述者理查德·席伯格（Richard Silberg）是罗森布拉特（Rosenblatt）的五年级同学。 194.他们一起参加了小学聚会，并与其他学生交谈。他们甚至追踪他们的老师，现年92岁的布罗姆伯格夫人。结局令人不满意，尽管这部深刻的个人电影是对这些事件如何困扰我们的有力反省。 （这将与比利时导演劳拉·旺德尔（Laura Wandel）的“游乐场”（Playground）制成一笔出色的双账单，这是从儿童眼景中讲述的。）可能是Bunch的最传统的Netflix可用的“贝纳齐尔的三首歌曲”代表共同导演的最传统条目。 （已婚夫妇）伊丽莎白和古利斯坦·米尔扎伊的ongo在阿富汗工作，他们试图阐明媒体所忽略的人和故事。他们参观了一个因喀布尔战争流离失所的人的营地，他们找到了一个年轻人，一个有少年新娘的年轻人，贝纳齐尔。这对夫妻看起来像是帕索里尼（Pasolini）生命的三部曲中的角色：他们仍然有孩子的脸，标有桃子绒毛和痤疮，而且似乎几乎不知道任何更广阔的世界。贝纳齐尔（Benazir）想参加阿富汗国民军，但未经他的长辈的批准，他不能这样做，他们声称：“如果您签署，塔利班将把我们切碎。”甚至在带着步枪的男子夺回对国家的控制权之前，这简短就抓住了改变的力量。在三个西海岸城市（西雅图，旧金山和洛杉矶）的帐篷城市和无家可归营地的无人机射击之后，他们放大了HU人级别，从一个社会工作者的角度介绍了少数贫穷的灵魂，从而沿着庇护所问卷调查。两年前，就在加利福尼亚州州长加文·纽瑟姆（Gavin Newsom）在大流行之前，将他的国家讲话奉献给了这一危机：“我们大多数人都经历了无家可归的人，这是一种罪恶感，而不是行动的呼吁，”他说。 Newsom的演讲将在简短的情况下做出很好的骨干，但这不是电视新闻节目或传统的说话头文档。科斯（Kos）和申克（Shenk）似乎正在以“ koyaanisqatsi”的方式引导“ koyaanisqatsi”，这使一个复杂的问题令人着迷且经常令人心碎。 '出色的OP-DOCS系列。 （综艺读者可能已经注意到该网站上的视频故事数量膨胀，因为这是丰富传统个人资料或故事格式的好方法。但是，没有人比时代更好。）inutes，“ Queen”保持了简短而甜美的状态，向我们介绍了篮球传奇人物Lusia Harris - “长而又高，这不是全部” - 历史成为第一个在奥运会上获得篮子的女性，只被历史遗忘了。这本质上是一个单一的故事，正如哈里斯（Harris）讲述自己的故事，几乎每一句话后，都在笑声上笑了起来，从档案照片，剪报和镜头上加剧了自己的故事，就像叙述了下调的碎屑一样 - 像她的双相情感障碍和传球一样提出要为NBA效力的报价。
People make documentaries about all kinds of things: some slight and silly, others educational or emotional. But if you want to be nominated for an Oscar in the doc short category, it’s best to zero in on an issue the Academy can get behind, like homelessness, bullying or prejudice. Just imagine if any other category were the same way — say, if the award for best sound mixing recognized only engineers who’d worked on movies that make the world a better place — but so it goes. At least all five of this year’s nominees are solid (sometimes quite sophisticated) treatments of their subjects. As Roger Ebert used to say, “It's not what a movie is about, it's how it is about it.”
“Audible” is art, even if the project originated as a TV commercial. One of three Netflix-acquired entries in the mix (all of this year’s noms were released to the small screen), the film focuses on a handful of students at Maryland School for the Deaf, whose football team went for years without losing to any other hearing-impaired team. A decade ago, director Matt Ogens shot a segment for Toyota’s “Line of Scrimmage” campaign at the school, then returned year after year to find the right group of students to showcase in a more personal project. He landed on Amaree, a homecoming king on the cusp of adulthood, shaken by a close friend’s suicide. Gifted with a masterful visual sense (that was clear from his 2007 Hollywood Boulevard-of-broken-dreams doc “Confessions of a Superhero”) Ogden experiments with audio here as well, creatively devising a kind of heightened identification with these remarkable young people.
Earlier this month, HBO acquired Jay Rosenblatt’s “When We Were Bullies,” an essay film in which the director continues to explore an instance of grade-school bullying. Rosenblatt was not the victim but one of the perpetrators in the incident, in which the entire class turned on one kid, and he’s still wrestling with the guilt all these years later. The short serves as a follow-up to 1994’s “The Smell of Burning Ants,” in which he blended archival footage of boys with observations on how they are conditioned in American culture: “Boys become boys in large part by not being girls. The ones who don’t figure this out are the same ones that get beaten up.” Through a strange coincidence, the narrator of that film, Richard Silberg, was a fifth-grade classmate of Rosenblatt’s at P.S. 194. Together, they attend an elementary school reunion and speak to the other students. They even track down their teacher, Mrs. Bromberg, now 92. The ending is unsatisfying, though this deeply personal film serves as a powerful rumination on how such events can haunt us. (It would make an excellent double bill with Belgian director Laura Wandel’s “Playground,” which is told from a child’s-eye view.)
Probably the most conventional entry of the bunch, Netflix-available “Three Songs for Benazir” represents co-directors (and married couple) Elizabeth and Gulistan Mirzaei’s ongoing work in Afghanistan, where they try to shed light on people and stories overlooked by the media. Visiting a camp for people displaced by war in Kabul, they find Shaista, a young man with a teenage bride, Benazir. The couple look like characters out of Pasolini’s Trilogy of Life: They still have the faces of children, marked by peach fuzz and acne, and seem to know hardly anything of the wider world. Benazir wants to enlist in the Afghan National Army, but he can’t do so without the approval of his elders, who claim, “If you sign, the Taliban will chop us to pieces.” Even before men with rifles took back control of the country, this short captured the forces standing in the way of change.
Also on Netflix, Pedro Kos and Jon Shenk’s “Lead Me Home” tackle a familiar enough issue in a formally inventive way. After cycling through drone shots of tent cities and homeless encampments in three West Coast cities (Seattle, San Francisco and Los Angeles), they zoom in to the human level, introducing a handful of destitute souls from the perspective of a social worker running down a shelter-intake questionnaire. Two years ago, just before the pandemic, California Gov. Gavin Newsom dedicated his State of the State address to this crisis: “Most of us experienced homelessness as a pang of guilt, not a call to action,” he said. Newsom’s speech would’ve made a fine backbone for the short, but this isn’t a TV-news segment or a conventional talking-heads doc. Kos and Shenk seem to be channeling “Koyaanisqatsi” in their approach, delivering a mesmerizing and often heartbreaking montage of a complex problem.
Finally, there is Ben Proudfoot’s “The Queen of Basketball,” the latest Oscar nominee to hail from The New York Times’ terrific Op-Docs series. (Variety readers have probably noticed a swell in the number of video stories on this website, as it’s a great way to enrich the format of a conventional profile or story. But no one does it better than the Times.) At 22 minutes, “Queen” keeps it short and sweet, introducing us to basketball legend Lusia Harris — “long and tall and that’s not all” — who made history as the first woman to score a basket at the Olympics, only to be forgotten by history. This is essentially a single-source story, reinforced with archival photos, clippings and footage, as Harris tells her own story, cracking herself up with laughter after practically every line, even when recounting the down bits — like her bout with bipolar disorder and passing up an offer to play for the NBA.
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发表于 2022-7-5 01:28:34
发表于 2023-4-22 19:10:57