Even in a time when it has been well established that an animated film is not necessarily meant for children, you might expect one with the title “Memoir of a Snail” to be something soft, sweet, and whimsical enough to be suitable for even the youngest of toddlers – but you can’t judge a film by its title, any more than you can a book by its cover.

One of 2024’s most well-received films, animated or otherwise, this deceptively adorable feature from Australian animator Adam Elliott certainly fits part of the above description (the “whimsical” part), but it could only be considered a children’s movie by someone who still thinks “cartoons” are for kids. Elliott – whose 2003 film “Harvie Krumpet” won the Oscar for Best Animated Short – is a filmmaker who uses animation (or more specifically, stop-motion “claymation”) to tell semi-autobiographical stories, often about characters based on his own family and friends, and while his visual style might be cute enough to engage your toddler, the content of his narratives is unmistakably tailored for adults.

In this case, that narrative is centered on – and told in flashback by – one Grace Prudel (voiced as an adult by “Succession” star Sarah Snook, and as a child by Charlotte Belsey and Agnes Davison), a girl who grows up in 1970s Melbourne with a twin brother named Gilbert (Mason Litsos/Kodi Smit-McPhee) under the care of their father, a former French animator (Dominique Pinon) with a fondness for roller coasters. When he dies and leaves them without support, the deeply bonded Grace and Gilbert are taken into the foster system and sent to live with families on opposite sides of the country. Grace, whose “swinger” foster parents often leave her on her own, struggles with isolation and loneliness, while Gilbert suffers under the tyrannical rule of a fundamentalist religious couple who exploit all their children as free labor.

Eventually, Grace crosses paths with Pinky (Jacki Weaver), an elderly free spirit who takes on the role of mentor and helps her endure a number of hardships, including a disastrous wedding engagement and her continued separation from Gilbert; depressed, overweight, and increasingly seeking refuge with her collections of snails, romance novels, and guinea pigs – all of which serve as both consolation and distraction from her seemingly impossible dream of following in her father’s footsteps to make animated films – it is her bond with Pinky that may finally provide her with the lifeline to keep her hope alive.

Striking a delicate balance between sentiment and savvy, Elliott’s film – his first feature effort since 2009’s “Mary and Max” – bridges the gap expertly with just enough satirical exaggeration to avoid being maudlin, yet keeps its eye on the redemptive prize (despite the occasional Dickensian twist) by treating Grace with the kind of empathy that can only be achieved by putting the audience completely into her shoes. Without spoilers, we watch as she goes through multiple quirky-yet-relatable setbacks, reinforcing the connection with our own inner misfit by conjuring familiar (and potentially unifying) feelings of inadequacy and leading us, inevitably, to forgive ourselves for our perceived shortcomings.

Visually, “Memoir of a Snail” evokes memories of many other stop-motion efforts, contrasting the inherent “cuteness” of its style with the less-comforting content of its storyline. Resembling a tried-and-true “Wallace and Gromit” film (such as fellow Oscar-nominee “Vengeance Most Foul”) but decidedly more focused on the inner lives of its characters, it blends and contrasts a familiar and traditional form with an emotional honesty that disarms our cynicism. Mixed with its comforting whimsy is an acknowledgement of life’s dark corners, a frank awareness that, sometimes, loss and sorrow happen and there’s nothing to be done but to go through them – there are no fantastical inventions to ease Grace’s path, no tongue-in-cheek capers that can set things right and restore her world to some kind of happy status quo; like the rest of us, she must work through the darkness not to get back to the way things were, but to arrive at a place where new things are possible – where the grief and sorrow that are inevitably woven into our life can be weathered and overcome, even if they can’t be avoided.

As to that grief and sorrow, “Memoir of a Snail” touches on the universal; Grace’s struggles with loss and loneliness, the disappointments, humiliations, and outright betrayals she confronts, all hit close to home – the loss of loved ones, the loneliness of not fitting in, the trauma of being bullied and abused – and there are no easy answers to getting through them. 

Yet melancholy as its tone may often feel, Elliott’s movie defies its own gravity with a wicked sense of humor and a sharp knack for commentary on the quirks and foibles of human behavior. Despite the grimness into which it sometimes must descend – which includes the depiction of shock treatment used for “conversion therapy” by Gilbert’s homophobic foster family – it manages to maintain a light-hearted attitude, buoyed by a keen (and often ironic) sense of humor and an embrace of the inescapable absurdities of life, and emerge not only with acceptance but with hope – with a little help, that is, from our friends.

It’s this message that infuses “Memoir” with such a sense of humanity; it is through the special bonds she finds that Grace endures – and not only the ones she shares with her beloved snails. The heart of the movie beats through her friendship with Pinky, a fellow “misfit” with the wisdom and kindness to renew her faith in life, and it’s that warmth and humanity that takes a tale of hardship and emotional suffering and turns it into one of the year’s most delightful movies.

Visually lovely, with an array of memorable voice performances and a delicious balance of humor ranging from silly to the macabre, “Memoir of a Snail” may not have the Disney appeal – nor the subject matter – to make it a good choice for children, but it has the candor and willingness to explore the darker places in our lives, the “sacred wounds” that give our lives meaning, and the power of love to keep us in the light.

Nominated for the Best Animated Feature Oscar, Elliott’s film is now streaming via multiple VOD platforms – and as much, if not more, worth your attention as any of the live action films competing in the other categories. After all, a movie about the power of kindness to help us endure difficult times is something most of us could probably use, right about now.

If you were alive in the 1970s, an awareness of Liza Minnelli probably feels hard-coded into your DNA.

Already famous on television by the time she was a young teen as the endearingly awkward and prodigiously gifted daughter of Judy Garland, having been regularly featured on her mother’s variety series, her explosion into the rarified strata of global stardom might have felt like sheer nepotism if not for the raw magnificence of her talents. Yes, she was uniquely “lucky” to have been the progeny of Hollywood royalty, but for a generation that had already begun to view the nostalgic memories of its parents’ youth through the filter of a more cynical worldview, that status might well have been an impediment to her success were it not for the undeniable verve and spirit of the persona that she brought with her when she performed. Whether in films like Bob Fosse’s masterful screen adaptation of “Cabaret,” or performing live – an experience captured and immortalized in her unprecedented televised concert, “Liza With a ‘Z’” – or even in the arguably naive candor with which she conducted her private life in the public eye, there was something so infectiously real about Liza that even the most jaded of cultural pundits could not help but be on her side.

For gay men, who found in her a similar connection as they had found in her mother – an earnest, genuinely positive spirit attempting to navigate a complicated life and find a place of her own in a world that viewed such enthusiasm with skepticism and judgmental disdain – she became more than just a star. She was a free spirit who, in her struggle to overcome expectation and assert her own unique stamp on the world, became not only easily relatable, but a kindred spirit.

It’s that special bond between Liza and her legion of gay superfans – make no mistake – that permeates “Liza: A Truly Terrific Absolutely True Story,” the new documentary helmed by Bruce David Klein that debuted in front of enthusiastic crowds at last summer’s Tribeca Film Festival and is now rolling out in theaters across the country. Obviously a labor of love – for its subject, for her fans, and for the show business legacy that Minnelli has represented so tirelessly across her long career – designed to further cement the bond between a beloved icon and those who adore her, it’s a movie that wholly depends on the infectious charisma of its septuagenarian star. Eschewing any attempt at a comprehensive career retrospective, it puts the focus on the story of her life, and the pluckier-than-expected Liza emerges with a canny and self-aware authenticity, complemented by enough hard-earned comfort in her own skin to not only hook a built-in audience of lifelong worshipers but win over a whole new crowd of acolytes.

Picking up, significantly, with the passing of Garland, Klein crafts his movie as a more-or–less chronological exploration of the star’s storied career (and, to a lesser extent, her private life, which remains somewhat cloaked beneath an aura of seemingly genuine and easygoing acceptance) as it highlights the key artistic triumphs and personal partnerships in her life. That means audiences looking for a tell-all tabloid-style post-mortem on the star’s famously unsuccessful history of romance and marriage are likely to be disappointed. There are no scandalous tales, no bitterness, no trash-talking – save for that reserved for David Gest, a self-styled celebrity publicist and Minnelli’s fourth and final (to date, anyway) husband, who allegedly used their relationship as a means to exploit her financially – and no regrets to be aired.

Instead, the film and its still precocious 78-year-old star choose instead to turn their attention toward celebrating the various key collaborators with whom her career became symbiotically entwined. Hollywood vocal coach-turned powerhouse nightclub star Kay Thompson, who as her godmother served as a mentor for her after Garland’s death; French singer Charles Aznavour, who helped hone her now-iconic performance style; lyricist Fred Ebb, who with composer and songwriting partner John Kander launched her Broadway stardom with their show “Flora, the Red Menace” and would continue to write signature songs for her throughout their career; director/choreographer Bob Fosse, who guided her to an Academy Award for her star-making performance in “Cabaret” and an Emmy for “Liza With a ‘Z’”; and, of course, Halston, the era-shaping fashion designer who not only created her signature style but became her jet-set companion and running buddy for nights out at Studio 54.

There are others, too, like former flame-turned-lifelong friend Ben Vereen and more recent associate Michael Feinstein, all of whom show up for on-camera interviews to sing Liza’s praises. Ultimately, though, it’s Liza that provides the best testimonial for herself, not with a litany of personal achievements but through her willingness to own up to – and shrug off – the mistakes she has made and to credit those who have helped to influence and shape her along the way. Brassy, generous, endlessly and authentically positive even when discussing the various missteps and low points that have marked her career, her extensive screen time gives her plenty of opportunity to show us that, even after a lifetime of struggling against scoliosis, bodily injury, and a well-publicized addiction to prescription drugs, the Liza we all know and love – endlessly positive, big-hearted, effusive in her praise of others and her appreciation for life, with a song or a show-biz story never far from her lips nor her heart – is exactly who she really is. That she is able to exude the same high spirited enthusiasm that has always been her trademark, despite the obvious toll exacted upon her by the years and the health challenges she has weathered, only makes us love her all the more.

That doesn’t mean that Klein’s documentary completely avoids the dark places in Liza’s life. Any attempt to tell her story would be incomplete without at least some discussion of her complicated relationship with “Mama,” the pressure of forging a career in her famous shadow, or the inevitable parallels that can be drawn between their personal and professional lives, and the movie does go there – though it does so delicately, in a respectful and generalized manner, without lingering on details. Likewise, it touches on Minnelli’s problems with addiction, emphasizing resilience rather than scandal.

The result admittedly plays like a love letter, an effect underscored by the universally glowing comments from famous friends and fans interviewed oncreen, from the late Chita Rivera to gushing fanboy Darren Criss, as well as in the plentiful archival footage of her career highlights. If the subject were anyone but Liza Minnelli, one might almost suspect this glossy, entertaining portrait of trying to whitewash its subject – instead, it comes off not just as a well-deserved tribute, but a welcome reminder that she is, and always was, a force to be reckoned with.

We have to admit that, in a week like this one, writing about movies – or, even more so, movie awards – feels a little bit irrelevant.

Even so, the Blade would be remiss if we didn’t report that the nominations for the 16th Annual Dorian Awards have been announced by GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics, not just in the name of maintaining normalcy but as a reminder of the importance and influence of the “Q+ eye” within the arts and entertainment sphere. After all, we’ve been leading pop culture as tastemakers ever since there has been a pop culture. And while the Dorian voters’ choices don’t always line up exactly with those of the higher-profile mainstream awards bodies, they reflect a strong counter-cultural perspective that feels ahead of the curve when it comes to singling out underappreciated gems, seemingly predicting – or proclaiming – the trends and topics rising in the public consciousness before the film industry itself seems to catch on.

This year’s crop of nominees especially highlights this “maverick” insight, omitting many of the front-running choices in the annual awards season in favor of niche-y (but timely) “genre” films that are typically disregarded by organizations like the Golden Globes or the Oscars. Indeed, the Dorians’ two most-nominated titles – filmmaker Jane Jane Schoenbrun’s “I Saw the TV Glow” and Coralie Fargeat’s “The Substance” – are horror films, reflecting a growing critical appreciation for the genre among a rising younger generation of queer film commentators, as well as within the larger cinephile community itself.

The Dorian Awards — named after the title character in “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” written by queer literary and theater icon Oscar Wilde, in whose honor the awards are named — differ from other awards in that they divide the top film prizes into multiple categories, and further offer separate awards in several of those divisions for mainstream or LGBTQ movies. At the same time, the performance awards are not divided by gender; rather, the prizes are designated for lead and supporting performances, with actors of all genders competing together for a single prize in each category. In addition, there are a number of awards unique to the Dorians, such as Best Genre Film, Best Unsung Film, and Campiest Film.

Leading this year’s nominations with a total of nine is “I Saw the TV Glow,” a surreal, trans-themed horror allegory largely ignored by the other awards groups; with nominations for both Best Film and Best LGBTQ Film, plus nods for Schoenbrun’s direction and screenplay and the performances of stars Justice Smith and Brigette Lundy-Pain in the Lead and Supporting Performance categories, respectively. In addition, it’s a contender for the Dorians’ “Most Visually Striking” award, which celebrates the overall “look” of a film’s design.

Coming in second with eight nods, darkly satirical body-horror thriller “The Substance” competes as Best, Campiest, Genre, and Most Visually Striking film, with additional nominations including Best Performance (Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, in Lead and Supporting categories, respectively) and nods for its direction and screenplay as well.

Somewhat surprisingly, acclaimed trans mobster musical “Emilia Pérez” was omitted from the Dorians’ Film of the Year category, despite being a front-running contender in other major awards races – though it still claimed six nominations, including LGBTQ Film, Non-English-Language Film, and LGBTQ Non-English Language Film, and Performance nods for breakout transgender star Karla Sofía Gascón and co-star Zoe Saldaña. Also with six nods is “Challengers,” Luca Guadagnino’s bisexual-themed tennis romance, which scored in both the Best Film and LGBTQ Film, among others; “The Brutalist,” director Brady Corbett’s epic saga of a Jewish Holocaust survivor’s rise to success as an architect in post-WWII America, grabbed five, including nods for Best and Most Visually Striking Film, Corbett’s direction, and Adrien Brody’s career-topping lead performance.

Other films with multiple nominations were “Challengers” (five), “Anora,” “Nickel Boys,” and “Wicked” (four each), and “Problemista” and “Queer” (three each). Guadagnino also helmed the latter, an adaptation of William S. Burroughs’ gritty novella about an aging American ex-pat in 1950s Mexico City filmmaker, which scored a Best Lead Performance nom for star Daniel Craig and made the list for both Best LGBTQ Film and LGBTQ Screenplay, but did not earn him a Best Director nomination – though he did make the cut for the “Challengers.”

Other noteworthy titles in GALECA’s awards lineup include the inventive faux-silent slapstick comedy “Hundreds of Beavers” (nominated both as Campiest and Best Unsung Film of the Year); “Sing Sing” (which earned nods for both its star, out queer actor Colman Domingo, and real-life convict turned movie star Clarence Maclin; Robert Eggers’ stylish reimagination of the silent classic “Nosferatu” (riding the pro-horror wave to compete in both Best Genre and Most Visually Striking Film categories); and trans-centric competitors “The People’s Joker,” “National Anthem” (both up for Unsung LGBTQ Film), and “Will & Harper” (Best Documentary and LGBTQ Documentary), all providing a timely counterpoint to the real-world transphobia currently being deployed as a political wedge in American politics.

Of course, alongside all these queer-themed contenders, there are still plenty of competitors also in the running for the remaining high-profile awards – such as “Wicked” and its leading players, “Conclave,” and the aforementioned “Anora” and “Sing Sing.” Any of these nominees could end up winners, too, which is part of what makes the Dorians a singular entity in the annual awards race.

In addition to revealing the Dorian nominees, GALECA also announced that it would donate $1,000 to The Los Angeles Press Club’s emergency relief fund, earmarked for entertainment journalists directly affected by the historically devastating wildfires that have destroyed vast swaths LA and left thousands of residents homeless.

In a statement, GALECA Executive Director John Griffiths said, “Entertainment journalists are an obviously integral part of the Hollywood ecosystem, and we want to make sure they aren’t forgotten in what’s already a very tough environment for those in our profession.” Vice President Diane Anderson-Minshall added, “We applaud our friends at the Press Club and its sister organization the National Arts & Entertainment Journalism Awards for coming to our brethren’s need.” 

Professional journalists whose main livelihood involves entertainment criticism, editing and/or reportage can apply for help at lapressclub.org. Additional donations may be made there as well.

The winners of the 16th Dorian Film Awards – which also include signature special awards for Rising Star, Timeless Star, Film Trailblazer, and the Wilde Artist Award – will be announced on February 13.

GALECA: THE SOCIETY OF LGBTQ ENTERTAINMENT CRITICS

16TH DORIAN FILM AWARDS LIST OF NOMINEES 

FILM OF THE YEAR

Anora (Neon)

Challengers  (Amazon MGM Studios)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

The Substance (Mubi)

LGBTQ FILM OF THE YEAR

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Love Lies Bleeding (A24)

Queer (A24)

DIRECTOR OF THE YEAR

Brady Corbet, The Brutalist (A24)

Coralie Fargeat, The Substance (Mubi)

Luca Guadagnino, Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

RaMell Ross, Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

Jane Schoenbrun, I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

SCREENPLAY OF THE YEAR 

— Original or adapted

Anora (Neon)

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

Conclave (Focus Features)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

The Substance (Mubi)

LGBTQ SCREENPLAY OF THE YEAR

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Love Lies Bleeding (A24)

Problemista (A24)

Queer (A24)

NON-ENGLISH LANGUAGE FILM OF THE YEAR

All We Imagine as Light (Sideshow / Janus Films)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

Flow (Sideshow / Janus Films)

I’m Still Here (Sony Pictures Classics)

The Seed of the Sacred Fig (Neon)

LGBTQ NON-ENGLISH FILM OF THE YEAR

Crossing (Mubi)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

Queendom (Greenwich Entertainment)

Vermiglio (Sideshow / Janus Films)

All Shall Be Well (Strand Releasing) 

UNSUNG FILM OF THE YEAR

—To an exceptional movie worthy of greater attention

Didi (Focus Features)

Hundreds of Beavers (Cineverse, Vinegar Syndrome)

My Old Ass (Amazon MGM Studios)

Problemista (A24)

Thelma (Magnolia)

UNSUNG LGBTQ FILM OF THE YEAR

Femme (Utopia)

My Old Ass (Amazon MGM Studios)

National Anthem (Variance, LD Entertainment)

The People’s Joker (Altered Innocence)

Problemista (A24)

FILM PERFORMANCE OF THE YEAR

Adrien Brody, The Brutalist (A24)

Daniel Craig, Queer (A24)

Colman Domingo, Sing Sing (A24)

Karla Sofía Gascón, Emilia Peréz (Netflix) 

Cynthia Erivo, Wicked (Universal)

Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Hard Truths (Bleecker Street)

Nicole Kidman, Babygirl (A24)

Mikey Madison, Anora (Neon)

Demi Moore, The Substance (Mubi)

Justice Smith, I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

SUPPORTING FILM PERFORMANCE OF THE YEAR

Michele Austin, Hard Truths (Bleecker Street)

Yura Borisov, Anora (Neon)

Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain (Searchlight Pictures)

Ariana Grande, Wicked (Universal)

Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

Brigette Lundy-Paine, I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Clarence Maclin, Sing Sing (A24)

Guy Pearce, The Brutalist (A24)

Margaret Qualley, The Substance (Mubi)

Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

DOCUMENTARY OF THE YEAR

Dahomey (Mubi)

Daughters (Netflix)

The Remarkable Life of Ibelin (Netflix)

Sugarcane (National Geographic)

Will & Harper (Netflix)

LGBTQ DOCUMENTARY OF THE YEAR

Chasing Chasing Amy (Level 33)

Frida (Amazon MGM Studios)

Merchant Ivory (Cohen Media Group)

Queendom (Greenwich Entertainment)

Will & Harper (Netflix)

ANIMATED FILM OF THE YEAR

Flow (Sideshow / Janus Films)

Inside Out 2 (Disney)

Memoir of a Snail (IFC Films)

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl (Netflix)

The Wild Robot (Universal, DreamWorks)

GENRE FILM OF THE YEAR

For excellence in science fiction, fantasy and horror

Dune: Part Two (Warner Bros.)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Nosferatu (Focus Features)

The Substance (Mubi)

Wicked (Universal)

FILM MUSIC OF THE YEAR

The Brutalist (A24)

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Wicked (Universal)

VISUALLY STRIKING FILM OF THE YEAR

The Brutalist (A24)

Dune: Part Two (Warner Bros.)

Nosferatu (Focus Features)

Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

The Substance (Mubi)

CAMPIEST FLICK 

Hundreds of Beavers (Cineverse, Vinegar Syndrome)

Madame Web (Sony)

Megalopolis (Lionsgate)

The Substance (Mubi)

Trap (Warner Bros.)

“WE’RE WILDE ABOUT YOU!” RISING STAR AWARD

Jonathan Bailey

Vera Drew

Karla Sofía Gascón 

Brigette Lundy-Paine

Mikey Madison

Katy O’Brian

Drew Starkey

WILDE ARTIST AWARD

To a truly groundbreaking force in entertainment

Colman Domingo

Luca Guadagnino

Coralie Fargeat

Jane Schoenbrun

Tilda Swinton

GALECA LGBTQIA+ FILM TRAILBLAZER

For creating art that inspires empathy, truth and equity

Vera Drew

Cynthia Erivo

Luca Guadagnino

Jane Schoenbrun

Julio Torres

TIMELESS STAR (Career achievement award)

Honoring an exemplary career marked by character, wisdom and wit

To be announced February 13 with all winners.

Nomination counts per studio:

Altered Innocence – 1 

Amazon/MGM + Orion – 13

A24 – 25

Bleecker Street – 2

Cineverse / Vinegar Syndrome – 2

Cohen Media Group – 1 

Disney – 1

Focus Features – 4

Greenwich Entertainment – 2

IFC – 1 

Level 33 – 1 

Lionsgate – 1

Magnolia – 1 

Mubi – 10

National Geographic – 1

Neon – 5

Netflix – 11

Searchlight -1 

Sideshow / Janus Films – 4 

Sony – 1

Sony Pictures Classics – 1

Strand – 1

Universal  – 5

Utopia – 1

Variance / LD Entertainment – 1 

Warner Bros. – 3 

About GALECA & The Dorian Awards

Formed in 2009, GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics honors the best in film, television and Broadway/Off Broadway, mainstream to LGBTQIA+, via the Dorian Awards. A 501 c 6 nonprofit, GALECA serves to remind bigots, bullies and our own beleaguered communities that the world looks to the informed Q+ eye on entertainment. The organization also advocates for better pay, access and respect for its members, especially those in our most underrepresented and vulnerable segments. GALECA’s efforts also include the Crimson Honors, a college film/TV criticism contest for LGBTQ women or nonbinary students of color. 

See our members’ latest reviews, commentary and interviews, along with looks at entertainment’s past, on Bluesky and elsewhere @DorianAwards. GALECA’s YouTube channel features the group’s past Dorians film and TV Toast awards specials, video chats with filmmakers and performers, plus talks with members about their latest books and more. Find out more at GALECA.org.

GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment journalists is a core member of CGEM: Critics Groups for Equality in Media, an alliance of underrepresented entertainment journalists organizations.