Best Original Screenplay: Ranking Every Nominee of the 97th Academy Awards
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
We are just over halfway done the Academy Awards Project this year and have cleared all of the tech, craft, and production categories. We’ve tackled Best Director, and both supporting acting groups. We have almost reached the point of going through all seven categories which deal with awarding entire films and not just aspects of how they are made. Before we do that, however, we have two writing and acting categories to go. I almost always love the Best Original Screenplay category because it encourages me to deep dive into the nominees and scrutinize how they are written. Do these films make sense on paper, first and foremost? Also, are these stories refreshing, inventive, or interesting? Once we get past brass tacks, I explore character arcs and detailing, setting establishment, and dialogue. Do jokes land? Are twists effective? Does the ending — either neatly concluded or left open — work for what kind of film we have just watched? It’s time to get writing about writing.
Here are your nominees for Best Original Screenplay ranked from worst to best.
Biggest Snub: I Saw the TV Glow-Written by Jane Schoenbrun
I don’t think any of the five nominees below are poorly written (if anything, the top four would have made my list of nominations as well), and I have already shouted out how films like Challengers and Civil War were missing altogether when the Oscar nominations came out this year (I’ll get into Queer tomorrow, if you understand the hint). Even though I feel like there are actually some stronger screenplays in 2024, I do want to use this opportunity to shout out Jane Schoenbrun’s terrific writing for I Saw the TV Glow: a strong symbol for the over-capitalization of nostalgia, a sensational allegory of the trans experience, and a haunting character study of lost souls living in a barren, chronically digital wasteland. I know not everyone is a fan of this film, but I sure am and I think that — while it would have been a dark horse — I Saw the TV Glow deserved some love for what it accomplished against all odds.
5. September 5-Written by Moritz Binder, Tim Fehlbaum; Co-Written by Alex David
People love to mock September 5, but I’ll be honest and say that the film is actually quite good. I was shocked. Part of that surprise came from the fiery screenplay: one that feels indebted to the works of Aaron Sorkin (full of stats, information, and character-defining dialogue amidst highly tense situations). The gimmick of having the Munich Olympics terror attacks all analyzed from the confines of a newsroom and its adjacent quarters is highly clever, and September 5 makes the most with what it has. Having said that, the premise does occasionally get in its own way, as some truly powerful moments are undermined by us not being able to fully connect with them (as we are still restrained to the twenty-four-hour clock and the four walls of the ABC Sports offices). That’s what places this otherwise strongly-written film in last place here (that and the occasional leanings on Hollywood triumph and convention). Otherwise, I know September 5 is the outlier here that felt shoved-in by incessant Oscars campaigning, but it truly is a worthwhile watch in general.
4. The Substance-Written by Coralie Fargeat
I feel bad placing The Substance fourth, because I’d consider the top four nominees here to be some of the best screenplays of the year. Having said that, when the competition gets this stiff, you begin to split hairs. Let’s start with the good. The Substance is one of the more inventive horror films (and satires, for that matter) of the twenty first century, and it does an excellent job of establishing characters, their motivations, how the rules of its universe work (primarily the use of the substance itself), et cetera. It abides by the regulations of Chekhov’s Gun — in that any element that is introduced or shown is always utilized in some important way — so there’s nothing left on the table unexplored. I’m not even ranking this film fourth because of the polarizing climax which I will defend to the ends of the Earth (how can you make a film about the hideousness of the entertainment industry and its self-sabotaging ways without showing how ugly it can truly be). I’m going to point out how ever-so-slightly The Substance can be on the nose as the reason why I have placed it lower than three other nominees (something I didn’t feel from the higher films); this includes repeating lines we’ve already heard before, even though these moments do work well as a swirling psyche losing its grasp of semblance. Otherwise, I consider The Substance a masterfully written film.
3. A Real Pain-Written by Jesse Eisenberg
I think The Substance is a far stronger film than A Real Pain, but I do think that Jesse Eisenberg’s screenwriting outshines his abilities as a director (which, to be fair, he does a good job behind the camera here as well). I love the characters of David and Benji and how complicated they are. Benji is so likeable and annoying at the same time; you understand his lust for life stemming not from his appreciation for being alive but, rather, his fear of dying. Meanwhile, David is more put together but you also get the sense that he feels unfulfilled despite his appreciation for structure and progress in his complacency. Toss the difficulties surrounding grief into the mix, as well as provenance and cultural connectivity, and A Real Pain is a nuanced character study that manages to make the most out of the bare basics that most films would just leave alone. I’ll place A Real Pain third and not higher because I wish there was just a teensy bit more to this film because I feel like there was a bit more to explore conceptually, but I do think that we get quite a lot here already. The jokes land. The tension is high. The joys feel earned and authentic. The pain is real.
2. The Brutalist-Written by Brady Corbet, Mona Fastvold
I know that some may argue that The Brutalist is underwritten, and I’d have to disagree. Brady Corbet as a director and a writer gives you all that you need to get by, and I often find that moments that may appear to leave you in the dark actually reveal themselves the more you think about them (I’d place the climactic flash-forward in The Brutalist in that basket of moments that require some time with). Maybe I’ve studied under the David Lynch lectures of cinematic discovery too much, but I do think that Corbet (and co-writer Mona Fastvold) give us all that we need. The Brutalist is literally just about an architect’s lengthy, exhausting project and both its construction and legacy, but we learn about him, his family, his contractor, the state of both the nation and the world, and so much more just through this premise. Do we ever need to be told precisely how our protagonist got hooked on drugs when it’s shown to us that he is homeless for a lengthy period of time and struggling to get by? The answer is in the details. The same can be said with the majority of this film. Seeing as I am having to rationalize placements of screenplays I adore in a highly competitive category, I’ll state that I have placed The Brutalist second and not first just because of the occasional piece of dialogue that feels slightly cartoonish (which, to be fair, I actually love, because it adds to the maximalist style of the film). Really, I have zero complaints about how The Brutalist was written. I think the gradual arcs speak volumes and ring true (as opposed to hitting Screenwriting 101 check boxes), the progression is calculated and highly rewarding, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
1. Anora-Written by Sean Baker
Of all of the screenplays in this category, I honestly couldn’t find a single thing to even critique or comment on negatively regarding Sean Baker’s Anora. For that reason alone, I feel like it would have to rank first. What a tremendous script. We learn who characters are right off the bat and feel like we know their true colours but are always proven wrong; Anora — or Ani — is no pushover or doormat; Vanya is a coward who isn’t actually a “fuck the rules” free spirit; Igor is capable of sympathy and change; et cetera. The first act of Anora feels like an R-rated fairy tale, and it is even given its own three-act structure (the meeting of Anora and Vanya; them falling in love after many nights together; the magical, last-minute wedding experience) before diving into its manic, highly-strung second act. This portion is full of rapid-fire dialogue, a myriad of revelations and personality-driven choices, and curveballs that only make matters worse. We then descend into the crushing final act that shows many of our characters at their barest: a vulnerability that is crucial after honeymoon phases and heated arguments. Once you consider the weight of the final sequence and all of the quiet important it boasts (Anora’s realization of the rest of her life, and how close she was to escaping struggle and exploring true love), Anora can only be considered the best written film of 2024. I felt that way as soon as I saw the film back at TIFF 2024, and I stand by that sentiment still.
Who I Want To Win: I’d be happy if Anora, The Brutalist, A Real Pain, or The Substance won this category because I love their screenplays so much.
Who I Think Will Win: Anything can change, but I feel like Anora is a lock for this category at this point in time. Even with the power of The Brutalist, I feel like if Anora was to win only one Oscar (I’d like to think it would win more), it would be for Best Original Screenplay. At this point, I don’t see how this would change at all, but you never know with awards season curveballs (we see these all the time).
The Academy Awards Project will continue tomorrow with another category: Best Adapted Screenplay. We’re going to rank every single nominee in every single category, Monday through Friday. You don’t want to miss it!
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.