The absolute coolest thing that one of the most famous people in the world can do is remind you, "Hey, I'm actually really talented, too."

Those things shouldn't be mutually exclusive and usually aren't -- there is typically a reason said famous person ascended to that level of recognition -- but it is the case that when a celebrity exists in a certain stratosphere, they often just float there. Sure, they might put out various projects, give interviews about them, and be photographed at splashy events, but the output of a VFP (Very Famous Person) rarely matters in comparison to the attention they receive.

It is a more conventional film than its predecessors, which still means it is far more creatively ambitious than any other biopic you'll see: Some of the most poignant scenes come when Callas hallucinates a documentary filmmaker who interviews her about the monumental moments of her life. And it is sumptuous in every sense of the word, shot in Paris with every frame dripping with as much glamour as the phrase "Angelina Jolie playing an opera diva in Paris" demands.

In the film, Jolie doesn't so much walk through a frame as she swans through it, gliding with a kind of etherealness that only someone on her level of inherent fabulousness could summon. But what's striking is the self-awareness of that very fact, almost a bemusement with the effect that stature has on people and will have on audiences of the movie. She uses that as a tool, establishing that baseline of regality so that when she, through her sheer talent, reveals Callas' vulnerabilities, flaws, and ugly truths, it's all the more jarring to behold.

We know that Jolie is talented. She has an Oscar. She has an Emmy. She's a movie star for a reason. Still, we are entranced by celebrity, so to be reminded of a VFP's range and the authenticity of their skill is kind of exciting. It's like we feel justified for exalting them the way we have for years.

Because of my job, I do get to watch a lot of films, particularly awards contenders, sometimes months before they are released. I tend to judge films, then, by how much I think of them after all that time has passed. It's strange: Maria is probably the weakest of Larraín's trilogy, yet it's one of the movies, as we approach the end of the year, that I do still think about. I think that's because of Jolie's performance. Imperfect as the film is, it's an undeniable example of Movie Star excellence.

This point in December is an exciting time if you care about things like awards.

Maria will be on Netflix in the next few days. Amy Adams' daring work in Nightb---h hits theaters Dec. 6 -- I hate the movie, but was mesmerized by her performance. Right now, you could go see Mikey Madison in Anora, Cynthia Erivo in Wicked, and Marianne Jean-Baptiste in Hard Truths and debate over who deserves to be crowned Best Actress. Pamela Anderson and Demi Moore have upended the industry's perception of them with The Last Showgirl and The Substance. And we still have Nicole Kidman giving another unforgettable, provocative performance in Babygirl coming to cinemas at Christmas.

It's fun to get excited about good work and good performances, even when award season conversations can veer towards pretentious and out of touch. It's especially fun to have a celebrity on the scale of Angelina Jolie be a part of that -- and deserve it.