If You Still Need to Fly Amid the Global Travel Chaos, Here’s What to Know

The war in the Middle East has important implications for how air travel functions right now and in the future. 

By Steven Leib

We are now three weeks into the war between the United States, Israel and Iran, which has grown to engulf much of the Middle East. There are few signs the conflict will slow down or stop anytime soon.

The situation has upended air travel. Missile and drone strikes have affected major airports, key routes through the Middle East have been shut down and the cost of jet fuel has shot up.

For airlines, these factors mean higher operating costs and reduced capacity. For many travellers, that means fewer options and higher prices.

Some travellers may be in a position to revise, delay or cancel upcoming travel plans. But many others who need to fly for work or personal reasons face high costs or may even be considering complex, unorthodox routes.

There are some important implications for how global air travel functions, right now and in the future. But there are also some general practical tips for ordinary travellers to help navigate the uncertainty.

Jet fuel costs soar

For virtually every airline in the world, fuel and labour represent the two highest costs. Since the beginning of the conflict, severe energy market disruption means the average jet fuel price has nearly doubled, with little indication relief is on the way.

And it’s possible the global energy market crisis could escalate further, as gas plants and gas fields in Qatar and Iran come under attack.

Right now, because of the increase in fuel prices for many airlines, jet fuel has likely surged to become the number-one cost (if it wasn’t already).

What’s happening with airfares?

Fuel costs aren’t the only factor. For Australians looking to travel to or through the Middle East, the removal of millions of airline seats from flight schedules has pushed serious demand onto other routes.

Unsurprisingly, many major airlines have hiked their international fares significantly. And they may go up further still. Qantas, for instance, this week said it would review its international airfares every two weeks.

Airfares have spiked as a result of the conflict. Hanson Lu/Unsplash

Some tickets have appeared at an extraordinarily high price. Cathay Pacific attracted attention for advertising business class tickets from Sydney to London (via Hong Kong) for close to A$40,000 return.

This is obviously very expensive. However, it is a natural result of the way most airlines use “dynamic pricing”. In essence, airlines are trying to identify (typically by analysing your flight searches) the highest price you’re willing to pay, so they can sell you a ticket at that price.

In a crisis, some might see this as taking advantage of vulnerable passengers. But airlines could argue the system ensures there is a seat there for someone who desperately needs it.

Unfortunately, they rely on the price consumers are willing to pay to demonstrate that level of “need”.

Stuck in a holding pattern

More broadly, the conflict has dramatically altered airlines’ ability to predict their costs. That’s a problem, because seats are usually for sale up to nearly a year in advance.

Will we see a shift in popular flight routes around the world if this conflict drags on? It’s hard to say.

The Middle East is geographically well-positioned to access nearly the entire world with a non-stop flight. It sits at the intersection of several popular international travel corridors, and its airline ownership models typically include government backing (which can help carriers stay operationally and financially stable).

However, if this conflict threatens those advantages in the long term, other airlines may step in, perhaps able to lower their fares over time by boosting their capacity.

Going the longer way around

Airlines based in Asia are particularly well placed to serve Australians travelling to Europe, though high demand for these routes has driven up airfares.

Another option is to sequence together multiple tickets on different carriers. This can lower costs and may add an element of “adventure”.

However, there are some significant risks that could undo any cost savings. For one, the “extras” can really add up. A sequence of self-organised tickets often means additional expenses for:

• overnight transits
• multiple baggage fees
• more meals on the road.

Travellers should also be mindful of visa requirements in transit countries, and any visa fees that apply.

Crucially, the “do-it-yourself” approach often means you are not protected from the impacts of delays or cancellations across multiple tickets on different airlines.

Other general tips

For those who are planning travel in the next couple of months, most carriers based in the Middle East are selling tickets with a reduced flight schedule to accommodate operational restrictions.

But given ongoing uncertainty, these schedules may not be as reliable as passengers would typically expect.

Buying flexible fares and travel insurance can help alleviate the effects of travel disruptions. But they introduce added costs.

What about those already booked, but anxious about whether they’ll be able to fly? Some airlines have cancellation or rebooking policies for passengers affected by the conflict for travel within a specified window of time.

Airlines may offer fee waivers, free rebooking or penalty-free cancellations.

But those whose dates aren’t eligible shouldn’t proactively cancel their flights themselves. Waiting for the airline to formally say, “we can’t take you there” gives you the best chance of ensuring it remains responsible for rebooking, a refund and other accommodations.

Steven Leib, Associate Professor in Aviation, CQUniversity Australia

Why Does it Feel So Hard to Work Out in the Morning? Here are Some Scientific Reasons Why

You are not imagining it, there are good reasons why it feels so difficult to workout in the morning.

By Hunter Bennett, University of South Australia

Your alarm goes off. Somehow you manage to get dressed, drag yourself to the gym, and start squatting.But why does it feel so hard? Your legs are heavy and the weight you lifted only a couple of days ago – in the afternoon – feels almost impossible.

No, you’re not imagining it. There’s a large body of evidence to suggest most of us are stronger, more powerful, and have better endurance later in the day.

There are several reasons exercising can feel much harder first thing in the morning. Here’s why, and how you can adjust to morning exercise if you need to.

Your circadian rhythm affects your workout

Your body has a natural 24-hour clock that regulates hormones, body temperature and when you feel most awake or ready for sleep.

This clock is called your circadian rhythm. It is controlled by the brain but can also be influenced by external factors such as sunlight. This might explain why exercising in the morning in winter can be especially hard for some of us.

Research shows your circadian rhythm is clearly linked to exercise performance, which tends to follow a daily pattern.

Most people reach their peak between 4 and 7pm. This means we tend to be stronger, faster and more powerful in the afternoon and early evening.

We don’t know exactly why. But there are a few potential explanations.

Matt Garrow/The Conversation. Adapted from Delos, CC BY

Body temperature

Your core body temperature is at its lowest around 5am, and steadily increases across the day. When your body temperature rises, your muscles contract more efficiently. We think this is part of the reason people are typically stronger and more powerful later in the day.

Hormonal fluctuations

Insulin – the hormone that regulates blood sugar (glucose) levels – tends to be highest in the morning. This leads to a decrease in blood sugar, meaning less glucose your body can use as fuel, likely affecting how hard you can push.

Nervous system function

While we don’t know exactly why, there is some evidence to suggest your nervous system is better at sending signals to your muscles throughout the day. This allows you to use more of your muscle fibres during exercise, essentially making you stronger.

But what if I’m a morning person?

Your sleep chronotype can also affect exercise performance.

This describes your natural inclination for sleep and wakefulness at certain parts of the day – basically whether you’re a “morning person” (an “early bird”), or feel more productive and alert in the evening (a “night owl”).

Research shows night owls with a late chronotype do notably worse when exercising in the morning, compared to people with an early chronotype.

While we don’t know why this is the case, it might be that night owls experience smaller fluctuations in hormones and temperature throughout the day – although this is just speculation.

Interestingly, being sleep deprived seems to affect physical performance in the afternoon more than in the morning. So if you’re staying up late and not getting much sleep, you may actually find it easier to exercise the next morning than the next afternoon.

So, does timing matter?

Whatever time of day, if you can feel yourself working you will make progress – for example, increasing muscle strength and improving aerobic fitness and heart health.

So if you’re exercising to get bigger, stronger and fitter, the timing doesn’t actually matter.

Besides, when we exercise often comes down to motivation and convenience. If you like to exercise earlier in the day and that suits you best, there’s no reason to change.

But you can adapt if you need

If you have a sporting event coming up in the morning – and you usually train in the afternoon – you might want to prepare by doing some early exercise so you’re at your peak.

There is evidence to suggest that repeatedly training in the morning can close the gap between your afternoon and morning performance.

Basically, your body can get used to exercising at a particular time, although it will likely take a few weeks to adapt.

Finally, if you find exercising close to bedtime makes you feel too alert and is disrupting your sleep, you may want to try doing something more gentle at night and/or exercising earlier in the day.

Hunter Bennett, Lecturer in Exercise Science, University of South Australia

What the 2026 Oscars Revealed about the Current Political Mood in Hollywood

Javier Bardem wearing his blood red 'No a la Guerra' protest badge on stage at the Oscars with Priyanka Chopra. Photograph: Chris Torres/EPA. 

By Luis Freijo

The 2026 Academy Awards revealed a striking contradiction. Many of the winning films grapple with urgent contemporary issues, or difficult questions of historical memory. Yet their makers avoided following up on that political character in their acceptance speeches.

This paradox is revealing of the current political mood in Hollywood: filmmakers are willing to engage with politics in their work, but reluctant to raise their own voices.

It makes for a puzzling irony that contrasts with the attitude of, for instance, the music industry in the Grammy Awards. In a year of tariffs, Epstein files, US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (Ice) shootings and military interventions in Venezuela and Iran, the show’s host, comedian Conan O’Brien, kept the political references contained to harmless jokes.

For instance, O’Brien mentioned the tighter security for the gala, appearing to reference the FBI’s warning of possible drone attacks against the US west coast. But the nod quickly revealed itself as a pun about actor Timothée Chalamet’s recent declaration that “no one cares” about ballet and opera.

Michael B Jordan accepts the Best Actor Oscar for

Sinners at the 98th Academy Awards in Hollywood.

Photograph: Kevin Winter/Getty Images 

Even some of the more political speeches, such as Michael B. Jordan’s mention of the Black actors that preceded him when accepting the best actor Oscar, kept to industry boundaries.

Only comedian Jimmy Kimmel, whose show Jimmy Kimmel Live! has become strongly critical of President Donald Trump, obliquely mentioned his looming presence when presenting the best feature documentary award.

Politics of the nominated films

This attitude is glaringly detached from what this year’s nominees communicate in their films.

Bugonia, directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, poked at conspiracy theories through its kidnapping plot. The constant ping-pong hustle of Marty Supreme returned to the foundational moment of US capitalism in the 1950s and pointed out that it was already rotten way before Reaganomics and Trump. The Secret Agent, meanwhile, set its thriller story against the historical memory of the dictatorship in Brazil.

The two main winners of the night were also the most political films. Joyfully disguised behind the vampire film conventions and musical performances of Sinners lies a condemnation of ongoing racism in the US. But the film also proposes blues music as an alternative way to experience the world and create loving and protective connections between its inhabitants.

In this sense, Delroy Lindo’s performance as ageing blues singer Delta Slim centres the political core of the film. His retelling of a friend’s murder by lynching is first a lament, then rhythm and finally blues.

Lindo competed for best supporting actor against Sean Penn, whose winning work in One Battle After Another became relevant when it started to overlap with the media presence of Greg Bovino, commander-at-large of the US Border Patrol. Under Bovino’s command two US citizens were shot by Ice in Minneapolis in January.

Paul Thomas Anderson wins best director 

for One Battle After Another.

One Battle After Another recaptures the political spirit of 1970s US films such as The Three Days of the Condor (1975), Network (1976) and All the President’s Men (1976). These films reacted against the consequences of the Vietnam War and President Richard Nixon’s resignation in the 1970s. One Battle After Another brings to the present their activist attitude to oppose our contemporary political challenges.

The film’s chilling depiction of state violence against its own citizens connected with the events in Minneapolis and showed how relevant cinema can be when aimed at those in power. But the film had to speak for itself: its director, writer and producer, Paul Thomas Anderson, carefully avoided any direct mention of Trump, Ice or Minneapolis in his three acceptance speeches (for best adapted screenplay, director and film). And Sean Penn, whose political activism as a friend of Hugo Chávez or in favour of Ukraine has often made Hollywood uncomfortable, chose not to attend the ceremony.

Why nominees stayed silent

The reasons for the lack of politics at the awards may be found in the current industrial climate in the US. In September 2025, the Federal Communications Commission took Jimmy Kimmel Live! off the air for a few days and continues to threaten to do it again. The industry chatter also believes Trump to be responsible for CBS’ decision to not renew The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, another critical outlet.

The possible acquisition, meanwhile, of Warner Bros. by Paramount, presided over by Trump’s ally David Ellison, follows Amazon’s purchase of MGM and Disney buying Twentieth Century Fox. The industrial landscape is concentrating in a handful of technological tycoons. They may may not take kindly to political activism when funding future projects.

One Battle After Another takes the Best Film Award

at the 2026 Oscars. Photograph: Chris Torres/EPA 

The only political voice that was pointedly raised in the Oscars this year belonged to Spanish actor Javier Bardem.

Bardem appeared on stage to present the best international picture award sporting a lapel that said: “No a la Guerra” – no to war. He had worn the same lapel over 20 years ago when the Spanish Film Academy Awards in 2003 became a loud and clear indictment to Spain’s involvement in the Iraq war.

Bardem left a clear message as he introduced the award: “No to war and Free Palestine.” While films such as this year’s extraordinary intake can and do speak for themselves, the gravity of the moment requires that those who make them join with their own voices.

Bardem’s dissonant appeal reveals where Hollywood’s politics currently lie. They are caught between making committed films and a fear of what the country’s politics will bring.

Luis Freijo, Research Associate in Film Studies, King's College London

'Buy it nice or buy it twice’: What the ‘Frugal Chic’ Trend Tells us About our Fashion Choices

Frugal chic means a commitment to purchases that will last for many years and be part of a 'forever wardrobe'. 

By Lorinda Cramer

The “frugal chic” aesthetic is having its moment, however contradictory the concept may seem. “Frugal” suggests a focus on thriftiness, while “chic” oozes a sense of classic luxury.

Coined by former model and content creator Mia McGrath before trending on TikTok, this is one of the latest attempts to change how we think about clothes and disrupt our voracious appetite for fashion.

McGrath encourages Gen Z to think about the positive aspects of making do with less. For her, being frugally chic refers to:

An individual who values quality, high taste, and freedom. They reject this new world of overconsumption that preys on the insecurities of unconscious doom scrollers.

Frugal chic means a commitment to purchases that will last for many years and be part of a “forever wardrobe”.

McGrath calls on consumers to invest in quality – “buy it nice or buy it twice” – while blending luxury purchases with cheaper and even thrifted clothes.

Slow fashion, repair cafes and capsule wardrobes

McGrath is not the first to try to influence change by promoting sustainable, responsible clothing consumption.

The global slow fashion movement supports individuals to (as the name suggests) slow down clothing purchases. But simply shopping less is easier said than done.

Slow fashion is driven by an increased awareness of the environmental and societal impact of the purchases we make. It also means forming a different, deeper relationship with our clothes.

Repair cafes set up in many countries (including Australia) further aid this work. They offer opportunities for people to fix their clothes – whether broken zips, missing buttons, rips, or something more complex – with the help of skilled repairers.

An uptick in “capsule wardrobes” has also been framed as a responsible choice. A capsule wardrobe encourages fewer classic, high-quality items in neutral colours as staples that can be worn interchangeably with each other and with bolder accent pieces.

Each of these matters as a counterpoint to what has become a massive problem: Australia’s spiralling consumption and discard rates.

Our passion for fashion

In 2024, Australians purchased 1.51 billion items of new clothing. That’s the equivalent of 55 garments for every person each year.

Many of those clothes don’t form part of a “forever wardrobe”. Across that same year, Australians sent 220,000 tonnes of castoffs to landfills. That’s 880 million items. A further 36 million items of unwanted clothing were shipped overseas, adding to mounting global landfills.

The production, consumption, use and disposal of clothing are emission-intensive. In 2024, Australia’s per capita emissions for clothing were equivalent to driving more than 3,600 kilometres in a petrol-fuelled car. That’s further than a road trip from Melbourne to Perth.

Despite these startling figures, our shopping continues.

Restrictions and austerity

Frugal chic has plenty of historical parallels. Though the contexts differ, these moments encouraged Australians to make do with the little they had.

More than 150 years ago, as a flood of gold-rush migrants descended on Australia, many had only a few changes of clothes – as many as could be counted on one hand. This was considered sufficient.

Clothing did not have a single life. It could be mended, adjusted and adapted. It could be passed down from person to person. Clothing was so valuable it was often bequeathed.

At the end of its wearable life, clothing was recycled into something new. It might be cut down to fit children, pieced together and sewn into quilts and waggas (quilts made out of recycled clothes, fabric scraps, old blankets and burlap bags) for warmth at night, or torn into rags.

This considered attitude to clothing did not end in the 20th century. Global upheavals continued to underline the critical importance of long clothing lifecycles.

In the Great Depression, as rates of unemployment soared, clothing budgets plummeted. This demanded ingenuity to keep families clothed.

Austerity measures introduced in Australia during World War II included the rationing of clothing. Measures also included the control of clothing styles to save fabric, threads and buttons. Known as “victory styling”, this created a direct link between less clothing and contributing to the war effort.

Ration books for food and clothing during WWII (1939-1945). Australian War Memorial

Some responded by making new clothes out of old garments salvaged from the back of wardrobes. Others turned to novel materials such as sugar bags to make themselves new outfits.

Reframing restraint

Like these historical examples, the “frugal chic” aesthetic frames frugality as virtuous – aligning with the shift towards sustainability – and aspirational, signalling an intention to live more mindfully.

In today’s context, it’s also inextricably linked to the cost-of-living crisis that has encouraged a rise in secondhand clothing and dress hire.

But “frugal chic” is not without tension. For one thing, most “frugal chic” content casts frugality as a choice rather than a necessity for dealing with issues of overconsumption or low income.

For another, it could be seen as an example of the pressure placed on women to look and act in certain ways – not simply to prioritise sustainability, but to appear both fashionable and financially savvy at the same time.

Will the “frugal chic” aesthetic change how we think about our clothes? It’s hard to say, but all rallying cries for sustainable fashion consumption hold potential for much-needed change.

Lorinda Cramer, Lecturer, Cultural Heritage and Museum Studies, Deakin University

Timothée Chalamet Says Nobody Cares about Opera and Ballet. The Backlash Ignores an Awkward Truth

Timothée Chalamet in a banana-yellow Givenchy suit by Sarah Burton on the red carpet at the 2025 Oscars. Photograph by Christina House/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images. 

By Craig Dalton

During a recent interview to promote his film Marty Supreme, Best Actor-nominee Timothée Chalamet said “no one cares about” opera and ballet anymore.

The actor’s comments labelled both a slight and a swipe by news outlets has provoked swift rebuke from prominent individuals and opera and ballet companies worldwide. Some have suggested the furore may affect his chances of winning the top award at the Oscars ceremony.

Why have Chalamet’s comments hit such a nerve? Is it because his mother and sister both danced with the School of American Ballet? Or is it the hurtful realisation, as dance critic Gia Kourlas notes in her piece for the New York Times, that the only way for ballet to get noticed in the mainstream media is to be dissed by a celebrity?

A health check on ballet

Dance Australia tried a positive spin on the situation. They suggested Chalamet’s comments “may prove unexpectedly useful […] to articulate, once again, why the artform continues to matter”.

Meanwhile, Queensland Ballet Artistic Director Ivan Gil-Ortega wrote of the challenges of “honouring the heritage of ballet while ensuring it remains alive and relevant for audiences today”.

Former dancer-turned-critic Emma Sandall argued ballet has moved “repeatedly in and out of fashion” and “always existed through one form of patronage or another”.

Australia’s national ballet company, The Australian Ballet, has faced a recent decline in attendance. Total live performances fell from 248 in 2023 to 200 in 2024, while attendance dropped from 305,364 to 225,771.

Live Performance Australia, which incorporates ballet and dance into a single national figure, reported a 10.4% decline in attendance over the same period – and a drop of almost 30% from 2010 to 2024.

Reflecting on its A$9.1 million loss in 2024, Chair of The Australian Ballet, Richard Dammery wrote:

without philanthropy, the Australian Ballet would be in a dire financial position. The company only exists […] because of generous donors.

An analysis of the American sector showed half of the 150 ballet companies surveyed were operating in a deficit in the 2023 financial year. Attendance levels for ballet and other forms of live dance in the US almost halved between 2017-2022.

What about opera?

Opera faces a similar dilemma. Opera companies are vexxed by the question of how to remain loyal to artistic values while embracing market economics.

Research suggests they should look for alternate sources of revenue and overhaul traditional approaches to programming. But this comes with risks, such as alienating core audiences and potential donors.

Opera Australia’s forays into musical theatre previously “allowed the company to grow income at a faster rate than expenditure”.

However, programming Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Sunset Boulevard in 2024 coincided with a A$10 million operating loss and 23% drop in attendance. Former CEO Craig Hassall (CEO from 2013-16) was scathing. He labelled Sunset Boulevard as “disastrous” – and the 2025 follow-up Guys and Dolls as “crazy”.

Reflecting on his final year with the company, Hassall observed that total performances of the musical My Fair Lady rivalled “all of the main-stage operas combined”. He warned:

this addiction to musicals dangerously deprecated the company’s assumed raison d’être: first and foremost, to present opera. Musicals are not opera.

The newly minted CEO, Alex Budd, thanked Chalamet for bringing attention to the art form, and invited him to join the company’s under-35 program. This initiative sold 1,110 tickets when it was launched in 2024. For reference, the capacity of the Joan Sutherland Theatre is 1507.

Budd boasted that Opera Australia has one million seats on sale in 2026. But, in a season that includes three musicals – Anastasia, The Phantom of the Opera and My Fair Lady – he doesn’t say how many of the one million seats are actually for opera.

The world’s largest repertory opera house, The Metropolitan Opera, is adding performances and extending upcoming seasons. But it also faces significant budgetary issues.

Multiple articles published by the New York Times have reported salary cuts, layoffs and a drained deficit fund at the Met Opera. And this is against the backdrop of a tentative deal with Saudi Arabia to secure US$200 million in lifeline funding.

The sale of two Chagall murals owned by the company (valued at US$55 million by Sotheby’s) was also reportedly under consideration.

Labor economist Christos Makridis – who studies the economics of art and culture – recently argued the future is dire for opera companies who concentrate on the preservation of their art form rather than popularising, monetising and growing what they do.

Locally, the Australian Research Council is supporting research to investigate how performing arts companies can increase accessibility and expand audiences. But practical advice will be slow to arrive, and will take time to implement.

The bigger picture

The last National Arts Participation Survey undertaken by Creative Australia found weekly attendance across all art forms dropped from 5% in 2019 to 3% in 2022. This suggests a broader, sector-wide issue.

The opera and ballet sectors continue to argue of their inherent relevance. Popularity, or a lack thereof, does not determine the inherent value of an art form. But a more circumspect position would be to acknowledge and confront the scale of the huge task ahead.

What will opera and ballet organisations do, and change, to ensure their survival?

Chalamet’s words may have galvanised a community. But the community’s response has highlighted a prevalent disconnect between artists’ and administrators’ feelings, and their ability to address the conditions threatening their industries.

Craig Dalton, Lecturer in Musical Theatre, Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, Edith Cowan University

From Politics to Red‑Carpet Dazzle: Experts Unpack the 2026 Oscars in Hollywood

Jessie Buckley, wearing Chanel by Matthieu Blazy, and Michael B. Jordan, in Louis Vuitton, took home the awards for Best Actress and Best Actor at the Oscars. Cover picture of Dua Lipa by Andrea Heinsohn for DAM 

By Dominic Knight, Adam Daniel, Ari Mattes, Gregory Camp and Harriette Richards

Despite Conan O’Brien joking he was the last human Oscars host, the 2026 edition was exceptionally human, with folly, filler and an f-bomb (ironically during the Best Sound acceptance speech). This 3.5-hour marathon will seem quaint in 2029, when YouTube takes over and every segment feels like 20 seconds.

Many speakers faced the same dilemma: how can we justify celebrating escapism in a war-ravaged world that only agrees on liking animated Korean popstars?

The world feels harsh in 2026. Even K-Pop Demon Hunters wasn’t immune, with the Golden song team harshly played off the stage – a policy only applied to them.

It was tough to watch Billy Crystal’s tribute to his murdered friends Rob Reiner and Michelle Singer Reiner – a note of real horror. Reality intruded again with the documentary Oscar for Mr Nobody Against Putin, about a teacher who used the Kremlin’s demand for video surveillance of his school to expose that process. Despite Jimmy Kimmel’s Melania gags, it was clear who the bravest guy in the room was.

Even Conan went dark. His Casablanca re-enactment featuring clunky plot-point repetition eviscerated smartphone culture. I loved his random arrival with a leaf-blower, which he should’ve deployed during Robert Downey Jr and Chris Evans’ lame banter. Ironically, the flatness of the bit perfectly illustrated the value of scripting – while the pair honoured the nominees for Best Screenplay.

Sinners and One Battle After Another won most major awards, as tipped on an anticlimactic night. In a dour final sketch, Conan was gassed, and replaced by Mr Beast – a pointed end to a ceremony that acknowledged legitimate questions about whether the Oscars even matter any more.

Autumn Durald Arkapaw brought a rare moment of joy as the first female cinematography winner, while the funniest presenters were the stars of Bridesmaids – who should host next year – especially if Stellan Skarsgård is available as a sight gag.

– Dominic Knight

A good film – not the best film – for Best Film

Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another is a good film. It’s not as good as Anderson’s Boogie Nights or The Master, and can’t hold a candle to this year’s other Best Picture nominee Sentimental Value, but it’s a rollicking romp of a yarn, more comedy than thriller, beautifully shot on 35mm film.

Indeed, several nominees this year used film, proving again what we already know – film looks better than digital.

The performances are solid. Sean Penn has had a great career, but here, as the buffoon Colonel Lockjaw, he is the weakest link, and shouldn’t have won Best Supporting Actor. But his hammy caricature is offset by the excellence of Leonardo Di Caprio, Benicio del Toro and Chase Infiniti, who effectively balance comedic elements with the kind of dramatic intensity necessary to bring the viewer along for the ride.

And a fun ride it is.

– Ari Mattes

A big year for big scores

2025 was a year for big film scores, either in terms of the size of the orchestra, their length, or their wealth of musical material. Perhaps Hollywood is finally getting over the ascendency of the Hans Zimmer-inspired chugga-chugga of interminably repeated minor thirds over low-pitched synth loops, and is embracing musical complexity again.

The ceremony itself had only a few musical moments of note. The Best Score announcement was hijacked by a Bridesmaids reunion and an overlong comedy routine that had nothing to do with music. At least we were shown the orchestra playing a short suite of the scores.

Sinners, the winner, is one of Ludwig Göransson’s most complex scores, drawing on various musics of the American South in a rich thematic tapestry. I hope its success might spur on more musical risk-taking in large-budget films.

The In Memoriam segment is always musically tricky. The producers need to find music that doesn’t pull focus from the people being remembered, but is engaging enough to keep the audience interested. The use of the love theme from Rob Reiner’s The Princess Bride was a good choice; the sappy reharmonisation of Amazing Grace was less inspiring; Barbra Streisand ended the sequence with a few croaky phrases from The Way We Were.

The Best Song nominees this year were mostly unmemorable – recognised by only two being performed during the ceremony. Golden (which won the award) brought some necessary KPop energy to the last hour of the show, but needed another verse to make its musical and dramatic point. A good decision in terms of the structure of the broadcast was marred by the structure of the arrangement itself.

This was also true of the chaotic performance of I Lied to You from Sinners. Considering the poor pacing and overlength of some of the comedy segments, this stuck out as especially misjudged.

– Gregory Camp

One extraordinary, and one earnest, performance

How does one assess performance across films of mixed qualities? This question is brought to the fore by this year’s Oscar winners for Best Actor and Actress.

Ryan Coogler’s Sinners is a riot of a film, following blues musicians and gangsters duking it out with vampires and rednecks in 1930s Mississippi. There’s nothing serious about it – it’s an absurd film from an absurd premise that just works from opening to closing images. And the performance by Michael B. Jordan, playing twin gangsters who are similar in temperament – but not the same – is extraordinary.

His intense and muscular energy drives the film, perfectly complemented by the standout music. Watching him on screen is always pleasurable, but in Sinners he’s finally been matched with a technically masterful film.

Hamnet, in contrast, is a very earnest, very serious film, and it proudly displays its earnestness at every turn. But earnestness in art is not particularly interesting (or, perhaps more accurately, not sufficient to make a film interesting), and the whole thing feels like a self-important Instagram post. The result is a film alternately pretentious, dreary and annoying.

Now Jessie Buckley is fine (as is Paul Mescal) – they’re both great actors in a big Hollywood movie – and, though Renate Reinsve’s performance in Sentimental Value was, like the film at large, much more compelling, it’s difficult to begrudge Buckley her Oscar.

Then again, film is a collaborative medium, so perhaps actors should also bear some of the brunt of critical wrath …

– Ari Mattes

A whole new award category

The introduction of the Academy Award for Best Casting this year marks the first new Oscar category since Best Animated Feature was introduced in 2001. The creation of this award reflects a long-overdue recognition of casting directors as core creative contributors to filmmaking.

Casting directors help shape performance, cast chemistry and, ultimately, the emotional credibility of a film – often through their identification of actors who can bring something unique to the role. By honouring casting as a distinct craft, the Academy is acknowledging the artistry involved in building ensembles, discovering new talent, and discovering performers who align with a director’s vision.

Cassandra Kulukundis’s win for One Battle After Another is a clear recognition of the importance and complex nature of casting large-scale ensembles. Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson is known for his distinctive tonal and stylistic approach, particularly to performance. Kulukundis has worked with Anderson since 1999’s Magnolia. Her filmography speaks to her ability to balance star power with character actors who enrich the world of the film.

From my perspective, One Battle After Another’s critical and commercial success lies not only in its narrative scope but also in the authenticity with which its performers inhabit a world that is at times hyperbolic and at other times very relatable to the contemporary moment.

Kulunkundis’s win can also be traced to her ability to identify relative newcomers who can command the screen, such as One Battle’s feature film debutant Chase Infiniti, and Best Supporting Actress nominee Teyana Taylor.

– Adam Daniel

Costume designers who stole the (fashion) show

The Guardian’s fashion editor Morwenna Ferrier summed up this year’s Academy Awards fashion: “A lot of brown. A lot of feathers. A lot of Chanel.”

To this, I would add: a lot of white, a lot of brooches and a lot of red lipstick.

Beyond these themes, highlights included Sinners Best Actress in a Supporting Role nominee Wunmi Mosaku in sparkling emerald Louis Vuitton and beautiful baby bump, and Marty Supreme’s Odessa A’zion in louche black Valentino embroidered with glittering embroidery and three long diamond necklaces, including one worn by Pamela Anderson at the 2024 Met Gala.

Both Best Actor winner Michael B. Jordan (Sinners) and Best Actress winner Jessie Buckley (Hamnet) were on my list of best dressed. Unlike most of his compatriots, Jordan eschewed the usual tuxedo, or the trendy brown chosen by his co-star Miles Caton, and opted instead for an all-black custom suit by Louis Vuitton featuring a sharp Nehru collar, shining onyx buttons and double silver chain at his hip.

Buckley, the first Irish winner in the category, exemplified the strength of Matthieu Blazy’s newly reinvigorated Chanel in an off-the-shoulder red and pink gown paired with diamonds and a perfectly matched red lip.

Best Cinematography winner Autumn Durald Arkapaw was the first woman ever to win in this category for Sinners. Wearing a black Thom Browne suit with intricately embroidered long coat, black tie, slicked hair and fine jewellery, Durald Arkapaw struck a cool figure alongside the extravagant feathered Gucci concoction worn by Demi Moore to present the award.

The Best Costume Design nominees really shone this year. Marty Supreme’s designer Miyako Bellizzi was divine in archival SS99 Dior by John Galliano. Hamnet’s Malgosia Turzanska made a political statement with her ICE OUT pin affixed to her structured dress covered in thousands of safety pins.

Personally, it was wonderful to see Kate Hawley, who won for Frankenstein, wearing a voluminous white gown and black taffeta coat by Aotearoa New Zealand designer Rory William Docherty, adorned with magnificent archival Tiffany jewels. She wore the de rigueur red lippy too.

– Harriette Richards

Dominic Knight, Lecturer in Media Law, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, University of Sydney; Adam Daniel, Associate Lecturer in Communication, Western Sydney University; Ari Mattes, Lecturer in Communications and Media, University of Notre Dame Australia; Gregory Camp, Senior Lecturer, School of Music, University of Auckland, Waipapa Taumata Rau, and Harriette Richards, Senior Lecturer, School of Fashion and Textiles, RMIT University

Is Social Media Addictive? How it Keeps You Clicking and the Harms it Can Cause

The consequences of social media overuse can be significiant. Recent studies have identified a wide range of pernicious effects. 

By Quynh Hoang

For years, big tech companies have placed the burden of managing screen time squarely on individuals and parents, operating on the assumption that capturing human attention is fair game.

But the social media sands may slowly be shifting. A test-case jury trial in Los Angeles is accusing big tech companies of creating “addiction machines”. While TikTok and Snapchat have already settled with the 20-year-old plaintiff, Meta’s CEO, Mark Zuckerberg, is due to give evidence in the courtroom this week.

The European Commission recently issued a preliminary ruling against TikTok, stating that the app’s design – with features such as infinite scroll and autoplay – breaches the EU Digital Services Act. One industry expert told the BBC that the problem is “no longer just about toxic content, it’s about toxic design”.

Meta and other defendants have historically argued that their platforms are communication tools, not traps, and that “addiction” is a mischaracterisation of high engagement.

“I think it’s important to differentiate between clinical addiction and problematic use,” Instagram chief Adam Mosseri testified in the LA court. He noted that the field of psychology does not classify social media addiction as an official diagnosis.

Tech giants maintain that users and parents have the agency and tools to manage screen time. However, a growing body of academic research suggests features like infinite scrolling, autoplay and push notifications are engineered to override human self-control.

Video: CBS News.

A state of ‘automated attachment’

My research with colleagues on digital consumption behaviour also challenges the idea that excessive social media use is a failure of personal willpower. Through interviews with 32 self-identified excessive users and an analysis of online discussions dedicated to heavy digital use, we found that consumers frequently enter a state of “automated attachment”.

This is when connection to the device becomes purely reflexive, as conscious decision-making is effectively suspended by the platform’s design.

We found that the impulse to use these platforms sometimes occurs before the user is even fully conscious. One participant admitted: “I’m waking up, I’m not even totally conscious, and I’m already doing things on the device.”

Another described this loss of agency vividly: “I found myself mindlessly opening the [TikTok] app every time I felt even the tiniest bit bored … My thumb was reaching to its old spot on reflex, without a conscious thought.”

Social media proponents argue that “screen addiction” isn’t the same as substance abuse. However, new neurophysiological evidence suggests that frequent engagement with these algorithms alters dopamine pathways, fostering a dependency that is “analogous to substance addiction”.

Strategies that keep users engaged

The argument that users should simply exercise willpower also needs to be understood in the context of the sophisticated strategies platforms employ to keep users engaged. These include:

1. Removing stopping cues

Features like infinite scroll, autoplay and push notifications create a continuous flow of content. By eliminating natural end-points, the design effectively shifts users into autopilot mode, making stopping a viewing session more difficult.

2. Variable rewards

Similar to a slot machine, algorithms deliver intermittent, unpredictable rewards such as likes and personalised videos. This unpredictability triggers the dopamine system, creating a compulsive cycle of seeking and anticipation.

3. Social pressure

Features such as notifications and time-limited story posts have been found to exploit psychological vulnerabilities, inducing anxiety that for many users can only be relieved by checking the app. Strategies employing “emotional steering” can take advantage of psychological vulnerabilities, such as people’s fear of missing out, to instil a sense of social obligation and guilt if they attempt to disconnect.

Vulnerability in children

The issue of social media addiction is of particular concern when it comes to children, whose impulse control mechanisms are still developing. The US trial’s plaintiff says she began using social media at the age of six, and that her early exposure to these platforms led to a spiral into addiction.

A growing body of research suggests that “variable reward schedules” are especially potent for developing minds, which exhibit a heightened sensitivity to rewards. Children lack the cognitive brakes to resist these dopamine loops because their emotional regulation and impulsivity controls are still developing.

Lawyers in the US trial have pointed to internal documents, known as “Project Myst”, which allegedly show that Meta knew parental controls were ineffective against these engagement loops. Meta’s attorney, Paul Schmidt, countered that the plaintiff’s struggles stemmed from pre-existing childhood trauma rather than platform design.

The company has long argued that it provides parents with “robust tools at their fingertips”, and that the primary issue is “behavioural” – because many parents fail to use them.

Our study heard from many adults (mainly in their 20s) who described the near-impossibility of controlling levels of use, despite their best efforts. If these adults cannot stop opening apps on reflex, expecting a child to exercise restraint with apps that affect human neurophysiology seems even more unrealistic.

Potential harms of overuse

The consequences of social media overuse can be significant. Our research and recent studies have identified a wide range of potential harms.

These include “psychological entrapment”. Participants in our study described a “feedback loop of doom and despair”. Users can turn to platforms to escape anxiety, only to find that the scrolling deepens their feelings of emptiness and isolation.

Excessive exposure to rapidly changing, highly stimulating content can fracture the user’s attention span, making it harder to focus on complex real-world tasks.

And many users describe feeling “defeated” by the technology. Social media’s erosion of autonomy can leave people unable to align their online actions, such as overlong sessions, with their intentions.

A ruling against social media companies in the LA court case, or enforced redesign of their apps in the EU, could have profound implications for the way these platforms are operated in future.

But while big tech companies have grown at dizzying rates over the past two decades, attempts to rein in their products on both sides of the Atlantic remain slow and painstaking. In this era of “use first, legislate later”, people all over the world, of all ages, are the laboratory mice.

Quynh Hoang, Lecturer in Marketing and Consumption, Department of Marketing and Strategy, University of Leicester