This year there were several movies on the Best Picture final ballot that have left me wondering, What the hell was all the fuss about? This is one of them. It is a perfectly competent coming-of-age story, and about ten minutes after watching it I had forgotten all about it. To write this review I had to look it up at Wiki and read about it again. Oh, that one! I like Saoirse Ronan well enough, but she is nothing special here. Laurie Metcalf won a Supporting Actress nomination, and again, so what? One of the five best performances of 2017? I’m afraid not. Also present is the annoyingly named Timothée Chalamet, who got a Best Actor nomination for a movie I don’t even care to see: Call Me By Your Name. Do you ever see someone whose face you just don’t like, on some instinctual level? I don’t defend it, I can’t justify it, but I just don’t like his looks. It’s not on the horrific level of Ted Cruz, but I just don’t like his face! It was written and directed by Greta Gerwig, and she got nominated, too, and it was one of those rare Best Director nominations for a woman, and I wanted to like it just for that, but I’m afraid I just couldn’t.