Entertainment
Forget the pundits — here's what ought to win. And what should have gotten a chance
I’ll let you in on a secret: I lose my play-along Oscar ballot every year. Hey, I’m a critic who can’t help voting her heart while championing what should have been nominated instead. This Sunday, I’ll be rooting for these contenders — and elbowing my watch party to catch up with one of these overlooked never-rans as soon as the teleprompters chase the last winners offstage.
Best picture
A scene from “Dune: Part Two”
(Warner Bros.)
“Anora”
“The Brutalist”
“A Complete Unknown”
“Conclave”
“Dune: Part Two”
“Emilia Pérez”
“I’m Still Here”
“Nickel Boys”
“The Substance”
“Wicked”
Should win: “Dune: Part Two.” Last March, it didn’t take a snort of spice to see visions of Denis Villeneuve clutching multiple Oscars for his follow-up to 2021’s “Dune: Part One.” The first “Dune” earned 10 nods and won six. Shockingly, this superior sequel only snagged four nominations — best picture plus three technical categories — when it deserved to gobble them up like a Shai-Hulud. “Part Two” boasts every quality you’d want in a best picture. It’s an ambitious, intelligent, grand-scale masterpiece, an immaculately crafted crowd-pleaser that never backs down from making its audience squirm. While Villeneuve clearly adores Frank Herbert’s original 1965 novel, his clever tweaks have rejiggered its 60-year-old themes to fit exactly this moment in time, dialing up the book’s female strength and the shivers we get as Timothée Chalamet’s Paul Atreides convinces a land of zealots that he alone can save them. This year’s awards for director and adapted screenplay should have been locks, plus supporting actress for Zendaya and lead actor for Chalamet, who delivers a performance with twice the octave range of his Bob Dylan while riding backward on a sandworm screaming in fictional Fremen-ese. I like most of this year’s nominees just fine — I even love a few — but I’m convinced that decades from now, we’ll consider “Dune: Part Two” the movie of the year.
Should’ve been a contender: “Better Man.” The academy has expanded its international ranks and it still couldn’t find enough voters to get behind the Robbie Williams monkey movie. What do you think America will witness first: a female president or our begrudging acknowledgment of Britain’s cheekiest pop icon? (C’mon, guys — Williams has sold more than 75 million records.) While perfectly decent, “A Complete Unknown” is the kind of routine rock biopic that’s begun to sound as wheezy as a junk-shop accordion. “Better Man” takes the genre electric. Irreverent and relentlessly entertaining, it boasts more imagination in a single number than most musicals manage in their entire running time. If you need to feel that cinema is alive and singing, that energy is here in both the big swings and tiny details. How about we make a deal? Just pretend that it’s a fictional biopic a la “The Brutalist” and go see the darned thing already.
Director
Sean Baker, right, on the set of “Anora.”
(Augusta Quirk / Neon)
Sean Baker, “Anora”
Brady Corbet, “The Brutalist”
James Mangold, “A Complete Unknown”
Jacques Audiard, “Emilia Pérez”
Coralie Fargeat, “The Substance”
Should win: Baker. The director of “Tangerine,” “The Florida Project” and “Red Rocket” excels at thrusting subcultures onto the screen, the dicier, the better. Now it’s Baker’s turn to hoist a prestige statuette. “Anora” is arguably his most mainstream film: a screwball comedy welded onto the class struggle between a Brighton Beach stripper and her Russian oligarch in-laws who want to dispose of her like an empty magnum of champagne. Momentum is on Baker’s side: After his recent wins at the Directors and Producers Guild Awards, he delivered a barn burner of an acceptance speech at the Indie Spirits on behalf of “all the indie-film lifers who are holding on and fighting the good fight.” Baker is the advocate independent cinema needs — an auteur who’s not ashamed to entertain. I’d love to see him command center stage again on Sunday.
Should’ve been a contender: Molly Manning Walker, “How to Have Sex.” “Anora” fans must catch up with Manning Walker’s debut posthaste. Set at a party hotel in Crete, “How to Have Sex” is another dramedy that feels like modern anthropology framed in neon, a madcap tale of drinking, debauchery and reckless decisions. Sixteen-year-old Tara (Mia McKenna-Bruce, fantastic) has gone on holiday to cut loose. Her insistence that she’s having fun — no really, so much fun! — becomes its own hangover. Baker needed eight films to land his first Oscar nomination. Hopefully Manning Walker can get there sooner.
Lead actress
Demi Moore in “The Substance.”
(Mubi)
Cynthia Erivo, “Wicked”
Karla Sofía Gascón, “Emilia Pérez”
Mikey Madison, “Anora”
Demi Moore, “The Substance”
Fernanda Torres, “I’m Still Here”
Should win: Moore. “The Substance” is a proud mess. I don’t love this Grand Guignol about a Hollywood actor literally killing herself to stay gorgeous, but I’m thrilled that this year’s best picture montage might include a shot of a blood-spattered Walk of Fame. The film itself is a simple idea with the sensationalist impact of the very first bikini. (Heaven help us if writer-director Coralie Fargeat puts her skills into political commercials). Still, Moore deserves every ounce of this award. By sheer force of will, she makes us believe that “The Substance” has substance.
Should’ve been a contender: Andra Day, “The Deliverance.” Another great performance in a go-for-broke horror flick about a woman well over the verge of a nervous breakdown. (And like “The Substance,” she’s the main reason to watch it.) Day’s first leading role in 2021’s “The United States vs. Billie Holiday” earned her an Academy Award nomination. “The Deliverance,” also directed by Lee Daniels, is only her second big part, and proves Day has the talent to be up here every year. Based on a real-life episode of alleged demonic possession, it stars Day as an exhausted single mother who comes to believe that Satan is controlling her kids. Ellen Burstyn was nominated for a similar part in “The Exorcist,” although “The Deliverance” is no “The Exorcist.” With Day’s co-star Glenn Close having a catty blast in a leopard-print pushup bra, the film starts goofy and stays that way. But Day muscles through her scenes with conviction.
Lead actor
Cillian Murphy in the movie “Small Things Like These.”
(Edna Bowe / Lionsgate)
Adrien Brody, “The Brutalist”
Timothée Chalamet, “A Complete Unknown”
Colman Domingo, “Sing Sing”
Ralph Fiennes, “Conclave”
Sebastian Stan, “The Apprentice”
Should win: Brody. After “The Pianist” made him the youngest lead actor winner in history, Brody learned that skill doesn’t guarantee success, especially not in a business where financiers have final say on what gets green-lit. For over a decade, his career path has included detours into forgettable international action-dramas — the kind of paychecks artists accept when their opportunities aren’t measuring up to their ambitions. This time, he seems to understand fictional Hungarian architect László Tóth as thoroughly as if they were shadow twins sticking up for each other’s ferocious talent.
Should’ve been a contender: Cillian Murphy, “Small Things Like These.” Sure, Murphy just took home the award for grappling with the shortsighted calculations of nuclear physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer. He’s even better as Irish coal-seller Bill Furlong, another man forced to fight his conscience when he discovers that his local convent doubles as a labor camp for unwed moms. Emily Watson plays the manipulative mother superior who slips Bill an envelope of cash to buy his complicity. For this broke father, it’s an offering he can’t afford to refuse.
Supporting actress
Aubrey Plaza in the movie “Megalopolis.”
(Lionsgate)
Monica Barbaro, “A Complete Unknown”
Ariana Grande, “Wicked”
Felicity Jones, “The Brutalist”
Isabella Rossellini, “Conclave”
Zoe Saldaña, “Emilia Pérez”
Should win: Saldaña. Between “Avatar” and “The Avengers,” Saldaña has spent the last decade painted blue and green. Now, she’s poised to claim gold. I’ll be honest: I didn’t know she had “Emilia Pérez’s” Rita in her. But Saldaña is terrific as the Mexican lawyer who undergoes her own metamorphosis during the film, transforming from a harried wallflower to a swaggering activist who accuses cartel thugs of corruption while dancing the Roger Rabbit. Parts like this have a way of changing an actor’s trajectory. I’m curious to see how Saldaña seizes her moment.
Should’ve been a contender: Aubrey Plaza, “Megalopolis.” People were befuddled by Francis Ford Coppola’s decades-in-the-making passion project, a rococo take on the collapse of an empire. One person who wasn’t: Aubrey Plaza. She often seemed like the only actor onscreen who knew exactly what movie she was in. Abrasive, shallow and giddily watchable, her Wow Platinum — what a name! — twiddles her clawed fingers like a femme fatale dead certain she can charm her way to the top. Still having a hard time trying to pin down the film’s tone? Just look at her.
Supporting actor
Harris Dickinson and Nicole Kidman in the movie “Babygirl.”
(Niko Tavernise / A24)
Yura Borisov, “Anora”
Kieran Culkin, “A Real Pain”
Edward Norton, “A Complete Unknown”
Guy Pearce, “The Brutalist”
Jeremy Strong, “The Apprentice”
Should win: Culkin. Let’s get blunt: Kieran Culkin couldn’t lose this award if he tried. Which befits his “A Real Pain” character, Benji, an extrovert who insults his way into winning over a Polish tour group. Benji is caustic, needling and selfish — the kind of guy who hogs the window seat, the shower and everyone’s attention. Smashing through social norms like a rampaging bull, he forces us to question whether life might be more meaningful when you stop being polite and start getting real. I’ve thought about his performance every day since I saw the movie. Even if the Dolby Theatre gets swallowed by a sinkhole before Culkin can claim his trophy, Benji will stay superglued in my mind.
Should’ve been a contender: Harris Dickinson, “Babygirl.” Everyone came out of “Babygirl” talking about Nicole Kidman’s fearsome performance as Romy, a CEO in a sub-dom affair with her intern. But Dickinson’s Samuel is every bit as good, plus he’s got the added challenge that her character never bothers to ask his about his life. As a result, we don’t learn much about Samuel ourselves. What we do glean comes only from studying Dickinson’s face: Samuel’s probing eyes, his amused half-smile, his hesitance before he dares to order his boss to get on her knees. He’s taking his own baby steps toward domination — and that’s true for Dickinson too.
Adapted screenplay
Ethan Herisse, left, and Brandon Wilson in the movie “Nickel Boys.”
(Orion Pictures)
James Mangold and Jay Cocks, “A Complete Unknown”
Peter Straughan, “Conclave”
Jacques Audiard, “Emilia Pérez”
RaMell Ross and Joslyn Barnes, “Nickel Boys”
Greg Kwedar and Clint Bentley, “Sing Sing”
Should win: “Nickel Boys.” Ross and Barnes did more than rework Colson Whitehead’s award-winning novel. They reworked how scripts are written. Ross, who rose up out of documentaries with the 2018 Oscar-nominated feature “Hale County This Morning, This Evening,” recently admitted he’d only ever read one screenplay before adapting this inspired-by-a-true-story tragedy about an abusive reform school in the Jim Crow-era south. Freed from convention, he and Barnes filled their pages with descriptions of sounds and smells, plus dialogue that often pipes in from offscreen. The result is an astounding first-person memory play that unspools like a waking dream (and nightmare).
Should’ve been a contender: Vera Drew, “The People’s Joker.” Speaking of rule breakers, how wonderful to watch Drew slap her own brand over the bat signal. “The People’s Joker” takes Drew’s autobiography as a struggling comic and hurtles it into the DC universe like a bat-grenade filled with mescaline. Half-prank, half-pastiche and 100% punk rock, the film’s mishmash aesthetics are due to the many artists who volunteered to build out Drew’s gender-bending Gotham City by any means necessary, from animation to stop-motion to miniatures. A film this visually chaotic should collapse, if not for the steel in Drew’s script. She’s costumed like a clown, but her screenplay is as confident as an antihero’s cleverest heist.
Original screenplay
Zoe Ziegler, left, and Julianne Nicholson in the movie “Janet Planet.”
(A24)
Sean Baker, “Anora”
Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvold, “The Brutalist”
Jesse Eisenberg, “A Real Pain”
Moritz Binder and Tim Fehlbaum, “September 5”
Coralie Fargeat, “The Substance”
Should win: “A Real Pain.” Eisenberg’s mousy David is as well-acted as Culkin’s crank. How apt that despite his character’s eagerness to please, Oscar voters still left his performance in the cold. Hopefully, they’ll balance out that snub here as “A Real Pain” puts every groan in exactly the right place. A pitch-perfect combination of pathos, pique and comedy, Eisenberg’s screenplay doesn’t allow any note to get pounded louder than the others. And while he nails David and Benji’s conflict in a single line — “You light up a room and then you s— on everything inside of it” — Eisenberg also allows his script space to breathe, like that quick insert of David quizzing his son about the height of the Burj Khalifa.
Should’ve been a contender: Annie Baker, “Janet Planet.” Baker has a Pulitzer and a MacArthur genius grant and by all rights she should have an Oscar nomination too. “Janet Planet,” the saga of a grouchy preteen (Zoe Ziegler) and her bohemian mother (Julianne Nicholson) over one slow-burning summer, feels so organic you might think it scarcely has a script at all. Baker knows just how long to pause so that the audience will fill in her gaps with their own answers. As Nicholson’s lovelorn codependent shifts personalities as she changes from partner to partner, Baker asks how headstrong girls grow up to become malleable women. It’s a great question, even if her screenplay never says it out loud.
Animated feature
A scene from the animated movie “Flow.”
(Festival de Cannes)
“Flow”
“Inside Out 2”
“Memoir of a Snail”
“Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl”
“The Wild Robot”
Should win: “Flow.” A cat, a bird and a dog walk into a boat. Sounds like the makings of a joke, but when the waters start to rise, this simple, wordless tale deepens into a warm-blooded epic about teamwork and survival. Latvian director Gints Zilbalodis has an intuitive understanding of film language that harks back to the silent greats like Charlie Chaplin and Mary Pickford. They knew how to tell a story that would make ’em weep from Burbank to Bangkok. Zilbalodis speaks meow, chirp and woof. More importantly, he’s fluent in human.
Should’ve been a contender: “Transformers One.” No one was asking for a “Transformers” prequel and no one could have predicted that it would be this good. The cartoon ditches Michael Bay’s greasy hormonal Earthlings to zoom back to the robots’ home planet of Cybertron, gorgeously rendered in the perfectly lighted pastels of an old Soviet sci-fi movie. The script nearly lives up to the visuals. A surprisingly affecting study of the rise-and-fall friendship between two bipedal machines who aspire to be cars voiced by Chris Hemsworth and Brian Tyree Henry, “Transformers One” accomplishes the impossible: It convinces you these spark plugs have a soul.
Documentary feature
A scenes from the documentary “Daughters.”
(Sundance Institute)
“Black Box Diaries”
“No Other Land”
“Porcelain War”
“Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat”
“Sugarcane”
Should win: “No Other Land.” Of every film, this is the vital nominee that audiences have struggled to see. A partnership between four filmmakers (two from Israel, two from Palestine), “No Other Land” documents the Israeli government’s demolition of a small West Bank village over four years. The directors once struggled to hide their footage from seizure by the military who confiscated five cameras and a computer; now, absurdly, they’re finding it tricky to get their film out of the region as no U.S. distributor is willing to give it a theatrical run despite unanimous critical acclaim and an impressive streak of awards. You can catch one-off screenings of “No Other Land” in scattered cinemas this week. I highly suggest you do. You’ll clap twice as loud on the very good chance it captures a hard-earned Oscar win.
Should’ve been a contender: “Daughters.” Hold on to your hankies. “Daughters,” by directors Natalie Rae and Angela Patton, is about a daddy-daughter dance with more emotional buildup than every prom movie combined. The men are in prison. The children haven’t held their fathers’ hands in years. Ranging in age from toddlers to teens, these girls speak with a moral clarity that cuts through any defense of this country’s carceral fetish. Tender, honest and evocatively photographed, this documentary sticks to you like a boutonniere on a lapel.
International feature
Fernanda Torres in the movie “I’m Still Here.”
(Alile Onawale / Sony Pictures Classics)
“Emilia Pérez”
“Flow”
“The Girl With the Needle”
“I’m Still Here”
“The Seed of the Sacred Fig”
Should win: “I’m Still Here.” In 1970s Brazil, democracy is devolving into a dictatorship. The clues are there, but the citizens can’t convince themselves the threat is real. One parent waves off their teenager’s sudden interest in politics as a fad, like eating macrobiotics. “I’m Still Here’s” ascension into the best picture and lead actress races may be due to its overnight relevance. Yet, the combination of director Walter Salles’ fastidious craft with Fernanda Torres’ phenomenally layered performance more than merits its surprise nominations. I caught Torres’ turn as as a rich housewife who combats sorrow with a smile early last fall and can confirm it felt just as strong even before we started waking up to our own alarming headlines.
Should’ve been a contender: “Universal Language.” This powder-dry dramedy introduces itself as a presentation of the Winnipeg Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young People. Like everything else in the movie, it’s artifice that feigns at being fact. Matthew Rankin, a Canadian historian and prankster, has concocted a starkly enchanting Winnipeg where Farsi is the main language of storefronts, guided tours and everyday grievances, like the woman who gripes about sharing a bus with a live turkey. “‘How am I supposed to relax with all this gobbling?” she moans. Community, even human-avian fellowship, is the theme, with Rankin playing the stranger who learns that belonging isn’t a privilege — it takes participation.
Movie Reviews
‘Night Nurse’ Review: A Caretaker Explores Her Kink for Elder Abuse in the Year’s Strangest Erotic Thriller
There are any number of erotic thrillers in which rich old men are robbed blind and/or left for dead, but Georgia Bernstein’s admirably bizarre “Night Nurse” might be the first movie of its kind where elder abuse is the source — and possible subject— of its erotic thrills. If there are others, I’m not sure I want to know.
But this woozy debut feature doesn’t rely on its audience being turned on by the relationship between a nubile caretaker and her dementia-addled patient. Their psychosexual bond, meanwhile, hinges on cold-calling vulnerable old people under the guise of a grandchild in financial distress. (“I’m in trouble, nana, send me $10,000 or I’ll be left to rot in jail!” That sort of thing). With its slim wisp of a premise stretched into a Strickland-esque dreamscape that substitutes kink for conflict, the film itself hardly seems convinced by its own wrinkled lust — all desperate kisses and non-touching poses of subservience. More important to Bernstein is what that lust reveals about her characters’ deepest needs, specifically how their need to care and be cared for can be as easily perverted as any other form of desire.
As moody and weightless as the noir-accented score that blows through the movie like a curlicue gust of wind in an old cartoon (credit to musicians Sam Clapp and Steven Jackson), “Night Nurse” lacks the pulse required for its stray feelings to come alive. Still, the film ambiently taps into the latent eroticism of teasing out the distance between how you see yourself and who you really are. Bernstein plays with that distance like a telephone cord wrapped around her fingers, and Eleni — played by the excellent newcomer Cemre Paksoy, powerfully helpless — only frays even more as the receiver is brought near the hook. “Everything I did before today wasn’t me,” the nurse tells co-worker Mona (Eleonore Hendricks) after starting a new job at an Illinois retirement home. “It was somebody else.”
What she did before today remains unexplored (specifically, what she did to get herself fired from her last gig), but I’m guessing she’s probably changed less than she thought. There’s a faraway flicker in her eyes the moment she catches the vibe between Mona and Douglas (a ribald and elusive Bruce McKenzie), a white-haired seventysomething who shows early signs of dementia but still commands an undiminished sexual energy. “I’m not an invalid,” he coos as Mona bathes him in the tub, to which she replies, “yes, you are,” in a supplicant tone that hints at a rich history of power games between them.
Later that same night, Douglas will force Eleni to call a stranger, pretend that she’s their granddaughter, and ask for money — he’ll wrap the phone cord around the nurse’s body as she talks and shove her against the wall as they kiss. She’s into it. So into it that he has to clarify the terms of his whole deal: “If you’re looking for a pogo stick, I’m really not your guy.” But Eleni isn’t looking for anything to bounce on. She just wants to be needed, and maybe to need someone in return. Someone who will see her for who she really is and allow her the fantasy of pretending she isn’t being herself when she cons vulnerable strangers out of their money — when she exploits how enthralled those strangers are by the care they have for their loved ones.
“Night Nurse” doesn’t belabor the psychology, as Bernstein prefers to express her story through heavy-lidded suggestion. Somnambulating from the moment it starts, the film moves through a series of beautifully arranged poses that stretch their latent meaning thin across the surface (Lidia Nikonova’s cinematography lacquers every shot with a seductive dreaminess). We see Douglas smoking in a lawn chair with Mona and Eleni curled around his feet. Eleni riding in the backseat of a convertible as the wind blows through her curls. The full staff of nurses — all of them under Douglas’ sway — stumbling around his condo in a state of zonked out bliss as they roll on the prescription drugs they’ve stolen from the residents.
Once you’ve seen one shot of this movie, you’ve practically seen them all, at least until things escalate during a rushed and unsatisfying third act that forces Eleni into an honest confrontation with herself. People will do just about anything to feel needed — they’ll give whatever degree of care allows them to receive it in return. “Night Nurse” understands that desire, but remains far too numb to treat it.
Grade: C+
The Independent Film Company will relase “Night Nurse” in theaters on Friday, July 10.
Entertainment
Lucas Museum to give free annual passes to South L.A. neighbors, host community preview day
The Lucas Museum of Narrative Art, which is moving at light speed toward its Sept. 22 opening, announced Thursday that it will give free annual passes to its South L.A. neighbors living in the 90037 ZIP Code. The 300,000-square-foot, $1-billion museum located in Exposition Park will also host a special community preview day on Sept. 13, more than a week before the general public gets to step inside.
The 90037 ZIP Code has a population of more than 65,000 and is bordered roughly by the 110 Freeway to the west, Slauson Avenue to the south, Central Avenue to the east and Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard to the north. Residents can register for passes at lucasmuseum.org/lm37 and will be alerted in August when the program launches. Pass holders can reserve tickets for themselves and one guest.
Tickets for non-pass holders go on sale July 21. They cost $25 for adults and $21 for seniors. Kids 17 and under are free.
“Storytelling has the power to bring people together and create a sense of community,” said Lucas Museum Chief Executive Tracey Bates in a news release about the program. “Through LM37, we are inviting our South Los Angeles neighbors to make the museum part of their lives and take their own path of discovery through the art, programs and experiences that will help shape this new cultural hub for Los Angeles.”
The community preview day is designed to give local business owners, community partners, civic leaders and registered LM37 pass holders a sneak peak of the 10,000 square feet of exhibition space, as well as the expansive gardens with 11 acres of park space.
The opening programming, curated by co-founder George Lucas, features 20 inaugural exhibitions across more than 30 galleries, including one titled “Star Wars in Motion,” containing vehicle designs, high-speed racers, flying vessels, props, costumes and illustrations from the first six films in the beloved franchise.
More than 1,200 objects will be on display from Lucas’ personal collection of narrative art. Highlights include work by Norman Rockwell and Dorothea Lange, as well as a variety of manga, children’s book illustrations and comics.
Movie Reviews
Movie review: Supergirl is a blast
Last year’s “Superman” ended with Iggy Pop singing “Because I’m a punk rocker, yes I am” — an ironic coda for a superlatively square hero. But it rings straightforwardly true for Superman’s cousin.
Milly Alcock’s Kara Zor-El, or Supergirl, sports not a spandex suit but a Blondie T-shirt. When we meet her in Craig Gillespie’s “Supergirl,” she’s been on an interstellar bender for days. She’s more Courtney Love than Clark Kent.
Nonchalant and sarcastic, Kara is also a little Han Solo-ish, you might say, given that she moves capriciously through the galaxy in her junky spaceship while getting in fights in extraterrestrial bars. She’s a welcome, jagged riff on more buttoned-up superheroes, and Alcock is terrific in the role. If only “Supergirl” was as good as she is.
While the latest DC release, and second under James Gunn’s stewardship, has its moments, “Supergirl” struggles to match Kara’s punk-rock energy with an equally spirited supporting cast and story.
Skepticism seems to have gathered for “Supergirl” ahead of its release. Many fans have argued it wasn’t the right next step for DC Universe. But I’m not so sure. Alcock’s breezy cameo in “Superman” was one of that movie’s highlights. Handing the follow-up to her, and her faithful floating dog Krypto, strikes me as an extremely natural next step. When in doubt, follow the dog.
And much of “Supergirl” is winning. It resides almost entirely in space, touching down only momentarily on Earth. In its consistently creative production design, clever needle drops and underdog story arc, “Supergirl” resides a little closer to Gunn’s “Guardians of the Galaxy” movies than other DC entries. Its outer space is filled with cosmic detritus, mean characters and cute critters. Seth Rogen as the voice of a tiny alien co-piloting a space bus is an inspired concoction, as is a shabbier sci-fi realm with rest stops along the intergalactic highway.
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