You know, I’ve been known, as many critics have, to make the occasional joke at Holocaust movies being obvious Oscar-bait. But really, I’m not sure I could come up with a baitier-looking trailer than The Reader without trotting out a lineup of saucer-eyed children in concentration-camp garb. Like Stephen Daldry’s last movie The Hours, which I didn’t particularly care for, The Reader is a handsomely mounted adaptation of a so-called “contemporary masterpiece”, which is practically the only way a movie that contains this much misery can get made by a Hollywood studio. It helps, naturally, that Kate Winslet gets naked, providing the spoonful of sugar to help the storytelling medicine go down in the most awards-friendly way (although does anyone else miss when Kate had more meat on her bones? I know I do). After two consecutive years of inspired Best Picture winners, I have my hopes that Academy voters will know better than to fall unconditionally for a movie that’s engineered to hit their usual sweet spots. As for me, unless this starts racking up all kinds of awards, I’m pretty sure I’ll skip this one. Also, what he said, more or less.