A sage but familiar observation was repeated during last night’s Virtuosos panel at the Santa Barbara Film Festival. Selma star David Oyelowo was asked by Fandango’s Dave Karger about his reactions when both he and director Ava DuVernay failed to snag nominations for Best Actor and Best Director, which many felt were due. The fact is that 2014 was a brutally competitive year in the Best Actor category, and the bottom line is that Oyelowo, who delivered a forceful and impassioned performance as Dr. Martin Luther King, was (a) simply out-flanked by the four locks (Birdman‘s Michael Leaton, Theory‘s Eddie Redmayne, American Sniper‘s Bradley Cooper, The Imitation Game‘s Benedict Cumberbatch) and (b) failed to elbow aside the weak wildebeest in the pack, Foxcatcher‘s Steve Carell, apparently because Carell’s prosthetic nose trumped Oyelowo’s oratorical panache. And also because of the hoo-hah that broke out in December when it became clear that DuVernay had mischaracterized the actions and initiatives of President Lyndon B. Johnson during the months leading to the passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.

But Oyelowo ignored all that and instead repeated a generic observation from the Hollywood Racism rulebook, which is that until recently the Academy has been more supportive of black performers who play kindly, acquiescent, put-upon characters rather than ones who’ve played forceful leaders and steely, stand-alone guys who don’t back off, like Denzel Washington‘s revolutionary in Spike Lee‘s Malcom X or Sidney Poitier‘s tough, principled detective in Norman Jewison‘s In The Heat of the Night. And yet among all of Morgan Freeman‘s Oscar nominated performances, his first was for playing the distinctly malevolent, non-kindly “Fast Black” in Street Smart (’87)

My favorite shot is of the Pterodactyl-type beast swooping down and grabbing a male tourist with his claws and carrying him aloft. I just wish the victim could have been a red-haired obese kid or a bent-over grandmother type. Or a fat guy in a wheelchair. To quote Michael Moriarty‘s character in Larry Cohen‘s Q — The Winged Serpent (’82), “Eat ’em, eat ’em, eat ’em!”

Nothing in this red-band trailer for Unfinished Business (20th Century Fox, 3.6.15) is even remotely amusing, much less “funny.” Why would a couple of seasoned (i.e., desperate) businessmen take a village-idiot type on a business trip to Berlin unless he they had decided he could probably help out? The obvious idea is to appeal to knuckle-draggers. Canadian director Ken Scott popped through with Starbuck, and then bonded with Vaughn when they made Delivery Man, the DreamWorks-financed Starbuck remake. Vince Vaughn, Tom Wilkinson as the older terrified guys, and Dave Franco as the monkey. Costarring Sienna Miller, June Diane Raphael, Ella Anderson, James Marsden.

I don’t know why I didn’t mention the Mark Wahlberg factor in my most recent post about director J.C. Chandor departing Deepwater Horizon and Peter Berg taking over, but after thinking it over (and getting a call from a friend) I’m thiking it was probably a central factor. The bottom line is that the generally muted response to A Most Violent Year probably convinced Lionsgate that they wanted a less character-driven, less political, more Paul Greengrass-y approach to the material, but I’m also convinced that Wahlberg indicated to Lionsgate that he was okay with Chandor getting deep-sixed. As a friend puts it, Chandor’s departure was probably “about Mark not connecting with J.C. on some level. Put it this way — if J.C. was Mark’s guy, if they had connected, Chandor would still be on the film. It hit me when Lionsgate immediately replaced Chandor with Peter Berg, who of course directed Wahlberg on Lone Survivor and got along with him pretty well. Maybe Wahlberg disagreed with where Chandor wanted to take the film. Or maybe Mark saw the Redford thing [i.e., All Is Lost] and liked it, and then saw A Most Violent Year and didn’t like it. Who knows? But you know that when push came to shove Wahlberg almost certainly said ‘call Berg’ to Lionsgate execs, because you know that Berg is going to do what Mark wants to do. This is about Mark Wahlberg having a say-so.”

My respect and admiration for Amy Adams is considerable, but I can’t see her inhabiting the deep-down aspects of Janis Joplin in the forthcoming Jean-Marc Vallee-directed biopic. Adams has been excellent at conveying quiet fortitude, determination and resolve (Margaret Keane in Big Eyes, con artist in American Hustle, wife of Phillip Seymour Hoffman in The Master, concerned nun in Doubt). But Joplin was about a combination of delicate vulnerabilty and scrappy, blues-wailing, whisky-drinking sass, and I just can’t imagine Adams really diving into that. Her speaking voice lacks that raspy, cackly-laugh quality, and she has a generally demure Southern-belle vibe that argues with the way Joplin behaved on-stage — that spunky but hurting soul-woman thing. I only know that when I heard Adams had been firmly cast as Joplin, a voice inside me said “really?”

I realize, of course, that right now the smart set is betting on The Theory of Everything‘s Eddie Redmayne to take the Best Actor Oscar on 2.22. That, of course, is due to Redmayne having won the SAG Award for Best Actor but don’t kid yourself — it’s currently a neck-and-neck thing between Redmayne and Birdman‘s Michael Keaton, and after last night’s emotional Keaton tribute at the Santa Barbara Film Festival, I’m thinking that…well, that Redmayne might win. Let’s be honest. I’m a committed Keaton guy, of course. He didn’t just give the performance of the year but one of the best of the 21st Century…ahh, what do I know?

Birdman‘s Michael Keaton being interviewed last night by Leonard Maltin at Santa Barbara’s Arlington theatre.

Keaton, I feel, is the guy to vote for because (a) he has the comeback narrative (playing a version of himself, re-igniting his career), (b) his Riggan Thomson performance is more of a soul-baring, pull-out-the-stops performance than Redmayne’s, which, due respect, is primarily about simulating isolation by way of physical affliction, necessitating a less-is-more acting style while sitting in a wheelchair, and (c) Keaton doesn’t have a Norbit movie opening on February 6th. (I’m sorry but the Wachowski film is exuding a definite stink and, unfair as it seems, I can’t imagine that on some level that Jupiter Ascending won’t rub off on Redmayne, at least in a pollen-sprinkling sense.)

The 2015 Oscar telecast happens three weeks from today. If producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron are smart, they’ll try to make it play as well as last year’s show (which wasn’t too bad) and avoid the general awfulness of the 2013 Oscar telecast. That show was summed up by…well, you tell me. For some, I’m sure, it was Seth McFarlane‘s singing “We Saw Your Boobs.” Or the generally slick, shmaltzy, out-of-time Las Vegas vibe. For others it was the borderline absurd decision to hand Quentin Tarantino the Best Original Screenplay Oscar for Django Unchained (and in so doing ignore Mark Boal‘s infinitely superior Zero Dark Thirty screenplay). Or the show reminding everyone what a great film Chicago was. But for me it was the decision to have the hummingbird-sized Kristin Chenoweth (4’11”) do red-carpet interviews, and in so doing make 90% of the women she spoke to look like seven-foot-tall, 285-pound Amazons. How clueless did Zadan and Meron have to be to not realize this would happen?

A little less than five months ago, or more precisely between 9.8 and 9.13, I was in a levitational state over Paul Dano‘s performance as the young Brian Wilson in Bill Pohlad‘s Love & Mercy. I was certain I’d seen one of the best lead-actor performances of 2014 — hands down, no question — and was savoring the rough and tumble of an award-season campaign. I knew Dano could never win, but he had to at least be nominated, I was telling myself. He was too good, too “miraculous” (in the view of BBC.com’s Owen Gleiberman) to be shunted aside. And then it all came crashing down when I learned that Roadside Attractions had decided to open Love & Mercy in 2015, and not even give it a one-week qualifying run to attract year-end accolades. Pohlad reiterated during a phoner that discussions about the release strategy were “ongoing” but they weren’t — Roadside had decided on a release date of 6.5.15.

Love & Mercy costars John Cusack, Paul Dano to left and right of Brian Wilson prior to 2014 Toronto Film Festival premiere.

“It takes bravery for Kevin Costner and Mike Binder to go up against the strange phenomena of whites who no longer believe in themselves but assume guilt, and of blacks who assume entitlement. Both are typically disingenuous and untrustworthy progressive positions on racial problems, as in Selma. The title of Costner’s film makes a statement; yet, like Michael Jackson’s hit record, it also poses several questions: First about family, then character, then social values, and lastly about race. That may seem like backward priorities, given the way race has recently dominated film culture. But the order of the film’s interests suggests Costner’s integrity regarding showbiz moralizing.” — from Armond White’s 1.30 review of Black or White.

I’ve only seen American Sniper once, as part of an 11.11.14 double-header when Clint Eastwood‘s film was shown with Ava DuVernay‘s Selma. I’m mentioning this because today I spoke to Sniper‘s Oscar and WGA-nominated screenwriter Jason Hall following the Santa Barbara Int’l Film Festival writers panel, and he told me that the version I saw was a bit rough and incomplete and that a few slight trims were made for the final version. I resolved then and there to see it again, and soon. I was thinking about doing this anyway. Catch it with an audience of Average Joe ticket-buyers, I mean.

During this morning’s Santa Barbara Int’l Film Festival writers panel, held at the Lobero Theatre and moderated by Anne Thompson.

SBIFF writers panel moderator Anne Thompson, Imitation Game screenwriter Graham Moore, Theory of Everything screenwriter Anthony McCarten.

American Sniper screenwriter Jason Hall conferring with ten film students who are visiting SBIFF as part of Student Film Studies Program, launched this year by fest director Roger Durling

That’s me under the SBIFF projection inside Santa Barbara’s Lobero theatre. Pic snapped during this morning’s writer’s panel.