By Sara Bright
It happened. The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, a body usually allergic to anything that goes bump in the night, just gave 16 nominations to a horror movie.
Sixteen. That is a record.
Sinners, Ryan Coogler’s vampire epic starring Michael B. Jordan, didn’t just break the door down; it took the hinges off. It beat All About Eve. It beat Titanic. It beat La La Land.
I’ve been watching the nominations roll in all morning, and there is a distinct feeling that something has shifted. Usually, Oscar morning is a polite affair. We nod at the biopics, we clap for the period dramas, and we ignore the genre films. But this year? The Academy has decided to embrace the chaos.
And honestly, it’s about time.
The Vampire vs. The Auteur
The headline fight is set. In the red corner, we have Sinners. A genre film. A crowd-pleaser. A movie about vampires in the Jim Crow South that somehow managed to convince the most conservative voters in Hollywood that it was high art.
In the blue corner, we have Paul Thomas Anderson.
One Battle After Another got 13 nominations. It’s exactly the kind of film the Academy usually drools over – serious, political, starring Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s Anderson doing what Anderson does best: making films that feel like homework you actually want to do.
So we have the populist horror versus the intellectual heavyweight. It’s a battle for the soul of the Oscars. Do they want to be relevant to the people who buy popcorn, or do they want to reward the craft?
This year, they might actually do both.
The Resurrection of Frankenstein
Then there’s Guillermo del Toro. His Frankenstein picked up 9 nominations.
It’s another genre film, technically. But knowing Del Toro, it’s probably a heartbreaking romance disguised as a monster movie. Seeing Frankenstein sitting next to Sinners in the Best Picture list feels like a victory for the weird kids. The monsters have taken over the asylum.
But look closer at the list. Hamnet got 8 nods. That’s the traditional choice. Shakespeare, grief, corsets. Chloe Zhao directing. It’s the safe bet. If the voters get scared of all the vampires and reanimated corpses, Hamnet is the warm blanket they’ll run to.
The Russian Connection
There’s a quieter story here, buried in the shorts and documentaries.
Konstantin Bronzit is back. His animated short Three Sisters (or Tri Sestry, I assume, based on the listing) got a nod. Bronzit is a veteran. He knows how to charm the Academy.
But the real shocker is in the documentary category. Mr. Nobody vs. Putin.
A film by a former schoolteacher from Chelyabinsk. Pavel Talankin.
Just pause on that. A teacher from a small industrial town in the Urals is going to the Dolby Theatre. It’s the kind of story Hollywood loves to tell about itself, but rarely actually happens. It’s political, it’s risky, and it puts the Academy in a fascinating position. Voting for it is a statement. Not voting for it is also a statement.
The Snubs and the Surprises
Let’s talk about who isn’t there.
Where is Mickey 17? Where is the big studio gloss?
Instead, we have Marty Supreme – a ping-pong biopic starring Timothée Chalamet. Nine nominations. For ping-pong. It sounds ridiculous until you remember it’s the Safdie brothers (or at least Josh Safdie). They make anxiety attacks, not sports movies.
And Sentimental Value. Joachim Trier’s new one. Also 9 nominations.
This is a Norwegian director breaking into the main categories. Renate Reinsve is up for Best Actress. Stellan Skarsgård is up for Supporting Actor. It’s rare for a non-English language film (or at least, a European arthouse film) to penetrate this deep. It suggests the voters are actually watching movies with subtitles, which is a miracle in itself.
The Acting Races
Best Actor is a bloodbath.
You have Chalamet (the Prince of Hollywood), DiCaprio (the King), and Michael B. Jordan (the Challenger).
But look at Wagner Moura. He’s nominated for The Secret Agent. A Brazilian actor in a dense, political thriller. He beat out the usual suspects. That’s a sign that the voting body – which has become much more international in recent years – is finally flexing its muscle.
In Best Actress, it’s Jesse Buckley vs. Emma Stone. Again. Tradition vs. The Weird. Hamnet vs. Bugonia (which is Yorgos Lanthimos remaking a Korean sci-fi comedy, because of course it is).
And Rose Byrne? She’s in there for If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. I love that title. I haven’t seen the film, but I want to give it an award just for the name.
The Tech Shift
One detail caught my eye in the technical categories. F1.
It’s up for Best Picture, Sound, Editing, Visual Effects. This is the Brad Pitt racing movie. It’s Top Gun on wheels.
The fact that it got a Best Picture nod tells you that the Academy is terrified of losing the dads. They need the ratings. They need the people who like cars and loud noises to tune in.
It’s the “popular film” slot. Every year has one. Avatar. Top Gun. Now F1. It won’t win, but it will look good in the montage.
The Verdict
So, what does this list tell us?
It tells us that horror is no longer a dirty word. It tells us that international cinema is no longer a niche interest. And it tells us that the Academy is trying, desperately, to be interesting.
Giving 16 nominations to a vampire movie is a gamble. It risks alienating the traditionalists who think cinema ended with The English Patient. But it also invites a whole new generation to the party.
For the first time in years, I’m actually excited to watch the ceremony. Not just to see who wins, but to see if they actually have the nerve to give the big prize to the monsters.
March is going to be fun. Bring the garlic.
