This year’s nominations might look like they honour the previous year’s best work. For those watching more closely, the list reflects not only taste but the power of campaigning. Timing and the unspoken rules shape the Academy, which remains stubbornly traditional even as it introduces new categories.
What looks good
on paper isn’t
always great
| T |
he biggest headline belongs to Sinners, which leads the field with a record-breaking 16 nominations, surpassing Tita-nic and La La Land. On paper, it looks like a clear victory.
In practice, it shows how quickly awards momentum can snowball. Once a film is seen as a frontrunner, that status tends to lift everything connected to it.
Delroy Lindo and Wunmi Mosaku’s acting nominations are strengthened by the film’s dominance across categories. These are the kinds of performances that, in a quieter year, might have struggled for space. Michael B. Jordan’s lead actor nod also fits a familiar pattern.
The technical recognition tells a similar story. Nominations in cinematography, costume, production design, sound, makeup and editing show that the Academy is responding to the film as a fully realised production. Sinners is rewarded for being a complete cinematic event.
At the same time, it remains one of the most debated films in the Oscars race. Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan’s partnership has delivered modern studio landmarks such as Black Panther and Creed in the past. With Sinners, both push further. Jordan takes on two radically different roles within the film, while Coogler leans into fear, identity and social tension as director.
Visually and musically, the film is striking. The performances are sharp and the visual language is a highlight. But in terms of storytelling, Sinners often feels weighed down by its own ambition. The film vacillates between horror, mystery and drama, layering a supernatural vampire-framework onto a Southern story that aims to speak directly to political and social realities. As a result, while the intent is sincere, the execution often feels chaotic.
It does not belong cleanly to a genre and is unable to fully control its social allegory. The film goes in too many directions at once. Comparisons to Get Out are inevitable.
Sinners feels louder, messier and less disciplined and because of these issues, its marathon of nominations raises questions. The scale of its recognition reflects not clarity but the Academy’s willingness to avoid criticism that has followed it in the past.
Wicked: For Good and franchise fatigue
One of the most predictable outcomes is the complete shutout of Wicked: For Good. The first Wicked film was a critical success and awards season agreed by giving it ten Oscar nominations. The sequel has never managed to recapture that momentum.
The Academy has long been wary of sequels, particularly in musicals, even when they perform strongly at the box office. Franchise fatigue remains a real factor. Follow-ups are often treated as extensions rather than fresh artistic statements.
The omissions of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo from Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress categories show how quickly individual perfor-mances can be overshadowed by broader perceptions of a film.
Campaigning matters in Oscar politics and strong performances rarely survive when the overall project loses energy.
Comedy, still on
the outside
Adam Sandler’s continued exclu-sion for his dramatic turn in Jay Kelly speaks to a bias that refuses to go away. Despite recognition from the Golden Globes and Critics’ Choice Awards, the Academy remains hesi-tant to reward performers whose careers are rooted in comedy.
This is less about the work itself and more about how prestige is defined. The Academy still struggles to fully embrace career reinvention when it does not fit its own ideas of seriousness. Sandler’s omission ref-lects how slowly those definitions collide with a body of work.
Paul Mescal and
the cost of category confusion
Paul Mescal’s snub as Best Actor for Hamnet, despite Jessie Buckley’s Best Actress nomination, highlights how damaging category ambiguity can be. Roles that sit between lead and supporting are especially vulnerable in crowded fields. When positioning is uncertain, momentum suffers. For actors balancing international projects and multiple commitments, the prac-tical realities of campaigning also take a toll. Mescal’s case is a reminder that even widely praised work can be undone by uncertainty.
Train Dreams and the new Best Casting
paradox
The introduction of Best Casting is meant to celebrate ensemble exce-llence. In its first year, it instead makes the treatment of Train Dreams feel even more contradictory. The film secured a Best Picture nomination, along with nods for cinematography, adapted screenplay and original song. Yet none of its actors were recognised. Joel Edgerton’s absence is especially glaring.
The message is difficult to ignore. The Academy deems the film among the year’s best but not because of its performances. It reflects a long-standing habit of separating technical craft from performance in ways that often feel artificial. Train Dreams is rewarded for how it looks and sounds, while its emotional arcs are overlooked. What a baffling contradiction.
Avatar: Fire and Ash and the end of
automatic prestige
For the first time, an Avatar film fails to secure a Best Picture nomination. Despite its scale and spectacle, the film could not maintain the automatic prestige that carried earlier instalments. The decision suggests that even the most dominant franchises are no longer guaranteed top-tier awards recognition. The glow of Pandora, it seems, is finally fading.
Gender gaps and
behind the camera realities
Chloé Zhao’s second Best Director nomination is an important milestone. She becomes just the second woman to achieve this. Yet the broader picture remains stark. Once again, only one woman appears in the directing category.
Nia DaCosta for Hedda, Eva Victor for Sorry, Baby, Mona Fastvold for The Testament of Ann Lee, Mary Bronstein for If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, Lynne Ramsay for Die My Love and Kathryn Bigelow for A House of Dynamite all should have been Best Director contenders. Across nearly a century of Oscars, only nine women have been nominated for Best Director and only three have won. Progress exists but it remains slow and uneven.
The pattern repeats across screen-writing categories. No matter the industry, gender bias exists at the highest levels.
Acting races and shifting momentum
The Best Supporting Actor race narrows to Jacob Elordi for Frank-enstein and Stellan Skarsgård for Sentimental Value, effectively turning it into a two-horse contest with Sean Penn and Benicio Del Toro trailing for One Battle After Another.
Best Actor is far less settled. While Timothée Chalamet remains the favou-rite, Michael B. Jordan’s momentum from Sinners, Wagner Moura’s surge for The Secret Agent and Ethan Hawke’s quietly admired work in Blue Moon make the category far more fluid than it first appeared.
When one actress carries the most
arresting film of
the year
Several films were represented solely through their leading actresses. Rose Byrne is the only nominee for If I Had Legs I’d Kick You and her performance is nothing short of astonishing. It is a fiercely honest and raw portrayal that carries the entire film and, for me personally, ranks among the year’s most remarkable pieces of acting. It is the kind of work that stays with you and would be a deeply deserved win.
Kate Hudson’s return to the Oscars, 25 years after Almost Famous, is a reminder of the power of sustained visibility and smart campaigning. Her nomination for Song Sung Blue, which she carries largely on her own, reflects the Academy’s openness to well-timed comeback stories.
Amy Madigan’s nomination for the horror film Weapons is perhaps the most surprising, given the Academy’s long resistance to jump-scare-driven genre work. Her recognition is a reminder that even within rigid systems, passionate campaigning and industry support can still break through.
What the patterns
reveal
Taken together, the 2026 nomina-tions reveal an Academy in transition.
Traditional prestige still holds power, but it now sits alongside a more global, campaign-driven and genre-aware voting culture.
This year’s list is less about individual injustices and more about structural shifts in small increments. Global storytelling is gaining ground. Subtle performances are finding space.
Campaigning carries as much weight as box office or legacy. The Academy is changing, but slowly, unevenly and always on its own terms.
caption
Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo in Wicked's underwhelming sequel
caption
Adam Sandler in Jay Kelly
caption
Paul Mescal in Hamnet
caption
Rose Byrne in If I Had Legs I'd Kick You