an Act of Killing-style re-enactment of the 1919 conquest of the Adriatic city of what is now Rijeka by a rag-tag army assembled by the proto-fascist dandy-poet Gabriele D'Annunzio. It was precisely the kind of quirky cinematic gem that the European film awards should be there to champion: a film ignored by the main festivals, about an overlooked but relevant episode in history.
In all the dystopian visions of the future that the movies have trotted out over the last few decades, the one that sticks the most, surprisingly, is WALL-E. That's not just because of the chastening sight of an over-polluted Earth or those sedentary humans glued to their screens. It's because those quite plausible possibilities mean something different in a kids movie. It's their future, after all.
Like just about every other voting body this year, the Academy proved eager to reward a daring piece of original storytelling that combines crowd-pleasing genre thrills with an all-too-relevant social critique. It helps too that the film is a wonder of craftsmanship, with everybody in the creative team-from writer-director Ryan Coogler and his phenomenal cast to costume designer Ruth E. Carter, cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw, composer Ludwig Goransson,