Emily Blunt is long overdue for an Oscar, and she has been since The Devil Wears Prada. Hollywood isn’t quite ready for that conversation yet, but there is still no snub bigger than disregarding her performance for A Quiet Place. (Except the 2019 SAG Awards. Four for you, SAG Awards.) So, yes, ultimately, it’s high time Hollywood recognizes what a gem they have in their corner.
The most unpopular opinion I have right now is that 2023 isn’t the best year for film, but it’s a cutthroat, incredible year for supporting actresses (and actors), making it so hard to be angry if Blunt isn’t given the win she deserves. If we look at the Golden Globes as an example, she could be up against Danielle Brooks in The Color Purple, Rosamund Pike in Saltburn, Da’Vine Joy Randolph in The Holdovers, Jodie Foster in Nyad, and Julianne Moore in May December. Still, there’s no denying that Blunt is in the top three with Randolph and Brooks, whose performances are instrumental in making the films they’re in astounding.
In more ways than one, Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is an intrinsic character study for the titular character, but it’s also one that wouldn’t work as a Best Picture without the entire cast contributing to the sensational storytelling. (Which is also why they should win Best Ensemble at SAG—I know, I know. Sorry, Barbie.) Blunt consistently brings something remarkably special to each of the roles she embodies, imbuing the characters with such striking emotions that the role always ends up being unforgettable, even if the film doesn’t fire on all cylinders.
Yet in Oppenheimer, Blunt’s role as Kitty Oppenheimer makes the film’s final act something indescribably powerful as she does a prodigious amount of work, largely even silence. A single stare or a quiet gaze from Blunt’s Kitty shows us everything we need to know—not only regarding her emotions at the present moment but with everything she’s bottled up and kept stifled. She explodes through rivetingly muted beats that never force her to overact or showcase something that isn’t fully there. Whenever we look into Blunt’s eyes as Kitty, there’s a myriad of emotions stirring in the sharp regard she holds.
This type of performance isn’t new for Blunt—she conveys something extraordinary in every act, ensuring that when we look at her, we solely see the character and nothing more. She is Mary Poppins. She is Kitty Oppenheimer. She is Evelyn Abbott. And yet, it’s important to note that none of this is some toxic form of meta-acting either; merely that is how gifted Blunt is in her craft. Horror is seldom acknowledged in the awards circus (which I’ll never understand even as an absolute chicken who mostly stays away from them), but Blunt deserved far more accolades for A Quiet Place than she received. To this day, no performance has left me as floored or as in awe of an actress’s work in a moment that could’ve so easily been overdone.
Still, there’s a chance for Emily Blunt to take home the Oscar for Oppenheimer because her work as Kitty is just as remarkable as the other nominees, and she is just as deserving. It’s never clear how the voting will go or whether patterns will stick, but if you ask us, Emily Blunt is the unmistakable winner for her profoundly sharp and complex yet subtle and elevated performance of Kitty Oppenheimer. She is a sight to behold, with the kind of monologue rooted in intense passion, years of heartache, and emotions cascading through with the utmost poise and subtlety. The defiance, suffering, and utter frustrations she carries amid everything lunge so much of the film’s narrative to its climactic ending, building on something that’s impossible to describe.
First Featured Image | Graphic Credit: ©Jenna G