It's not so common for the best performances to win an Oscar. Often, many other elements come into play, one of which is the star power of the nominee, her suitability for what, supposedly, a star should be—an indefinable category that, according to Jeanine Basinger, is characterized by "an exceptional physique, excellent talent, a series of personal gestures, a sex appeal "Palminable glamour… and the luck of being in the right place at the right time." Irish actress Jessie Buckley (Killarney, 1989) embodies some of these characteristics, but her meteoric career seems to exhibit an absolute disdain for the others.

The 98th Academy Awards have crowned One battle after another like the big winner of the nightThe film directed by Paul Thomas Anderson gradually gained prominence throughout the ceremony, becoming the dominant name of the awards, which were marked by its overall success. The gala also featured musical numbers and some moments of protest, despite being rather tame and lacking in activism.

Maybe The bride! (The bride!) has as its starting point The Bride of FrankensteinBut it's neither a sequel, nor a remakenot one reboot nor any other label affiliated with Hollywood's franchise logic. Maggie Gyllenhaal, an actress who has never shied away from risk (she revealed herself with the sadomasochistic romance of Secretary) and that in The Dark DaughterHer directorial debut, while acknowledging influences like Claire Denis and Lucrecia Martel, presents the film as a fiercely autonomous manifesto of pop feminism. This is clear from the opening scene, in which Mary Shelley confesses that in Frankenstein She was only able to capture a fragment of what she wanted to tell. Then, the writer's specter cracks the diegesis and literally possesses the body of a prostitute who will become the protagonist of a feverish fiction.

The adaptation of book by Maggie O'Farrell The film opens with the protagonist nestled in the woods, viewed from a bird's-eye perspective that emphasizes how organically she fits into nature, like a baby in its mother's womb. Chloé Zhao's film thus deviates from the novel's opening to underscore its singular element: the centrality and autonomous identity of the protagonist, Agnes, who doesn't become William Shakespeare's wife until well into the narrative. From the outset, the film establishes how Agnes embodies a heterodox, yet idealized, model of femininity: the woman who doesn't conform to social or intellectual conventions, instead connecting with forms of experience and knowledge linked to the natural world. Zhao, therefore, sets aside the point of view of Hamnet, the young son of the main couple who gives the story its title, whose subjectivity doesn't take center stage until the dramatic turning point—a challenge the director resolves convincingly. O'Farrell's successful novel immerses the reader in Agnes's world through sensory experience. Zhao opts for a restrained, precious aesthetic that avoids academic constraints. However, in comparison, it feels somewhat flat. His most interesting decision is to film many interior scenes frontally, thus evoking the perspective of a theatrical audience. For example, when the son's room is left empty, it creates a continuity with the stage on which the father is staging a play. HamletAnd the idea of ​​trafficking, which visualizes the transfer of the child, makes sense. The entire final section, the theatrical performance, acquires an undeniable cathartic power, thanks also to the immense talent of Jessie Buckley, the actress who best embodies the role of the "normal" woman in contemporary cinema.