Matt vs. the Academy

After ten more viewings, it is time again to make the difficult decision of which is my favourite. And considering that 1939 is often cited as old Hollywood's finest year, it is indeed difficult once more. The nominees for Best Picture of 1939 are: Dark Victory Gone With the Wind Goodbye, Mr. Chips Love Affair Mr. Smith Goes to Washington Ninotchka Of Mice and Men Stagecoach The Wizard of Oz Wuthering Heights As I mentioned in a previous post, one of the most interesting things about this awards year is the volume of adaptations that were nominated; six from novels, one from an unpublished story, and one from a play, leaving just two films not based on previous material. Of those adaptations, I discovered that a number of them suffered slightly from a somewhat hurried narrative. So, despite their other brilliant qualities, I will set aside Wuthering Heights, Dark Victory, Stagecoach and Goodbye, Mr. Chips. In all of these, excepting Wuthering Heights, it is the love story within th...

Covering an entire city block, Macy's is a gigantic department store here in New York City. And I mean gigantic. (In fact, it was the largest department store in the world until just a couple of months ago when a South Korean company opened an even more ridiculously sized one.) Whilst wandering around Macy's yesterday, I was mystified upon reaching the top of an escalator to find myself on Floor 1½. How do you get to this floor by elevator, I wondered. I imagined having to stop the elevator in between floors 1 and 2 and squeeze the doors open in order to exit, à la Being John Malkovich (pictured). But alas, the elevator's panel does indeed include a button for Floor 1½ and shoppers are able to simply step out without the need to crouch. Still, how on earth did this happen? Once construction was complete, did some ambitious executive demand an extra floor in between the first and second? It appears not. On one side of the enormous building, the first floor does seem to h...

I'm back! Although I enjoyed an immensely fun time performing in an improv show every night and meeting some fantastic new people, my fondest memory of the last few days in Atlanta is my discovery of Whirlyball . Half sport, half amusement park ride, Whirlyball is like lacrosse in bumper cars. Yes, bumper cars. I defy you to play this game and not enjoy yourself. An unfortunate consequence of my time in Georgia is the considerable delay in viewing the next Best Picture nominee, a delay that disrupts the six-movies-per-week viewing rate that is required for this project to be completed by its arbitrary deadline. Rather than suffer the humiliation of admitting defeat less than a month into the project, I will simply continue at a slightly more leisurely pace and worry about it later. Besides, with things becoming a tad busier for me, less frequent posts may have been an inevitable byproduct anyway. But fear not. I am still as passionately determined to see this project through to...

Today's entry may be a little shorter than usual on account of the plane I need to catch in a few hours, a plane not bound for Brazil, where my friends Jon and Aline are getting married today. Sadly, due to financial and other constraints, it was necessary for Kat and I to tick the "I/We regretfully decline" box on the invitation, so no trip to Brazil, unfortunately. Subsequently, I was offered a spot on the Australian team in an international improv tournament in Atlanta, Georgia. And since the organisers are paying for my airfare and accommodation, I was more than happy to oblige. So, I still get to fly somewhere this week, although, it is without my beautiful wife. My absence may also result in a steep deceleration in film viewing, so I may not be able to update this blog over the next five days. I'll be taking the last two 1939 Best Picture nominees with me to Atlanta in the event of some free time, but I'm not even certain I'll have internet access, so i...

The next film in Matt vs. the Academy is one with which I have a close relationship. Not because of a particularly large number of viewings (before today, it had been almost fifteen years since I last watched it), but because it served as the basis for my debut stage performance. At the age of eleven, I stepped into the suffocating costume of the Cowardly Lion in a community production of The Wizard of Oz, lovingly adapted (or plagiarised, if you prefer) from the script of the 1939 Best Picture nominee. I credit that one-night-only production with the genesis of my love of performing. It is where I first caught the acting bug. I remember fondly the first rehearsal when, after weeks of listening intently to the film's dialogue, I delivered my lines in a perfect imitation of Bert Lahr's thick New York accent, only to elicit laughter from the cast and crew. I consequently dropped the impersonation. However, laughter could still be heard on show night, but this time, it was from th...

After a pleasant weekend in New Jersey, eating good food and playing Trivial Pursuit with good friends, and leisurely strolling through Princeton and eating more good food with more good friends, I sat down to watch the epic Gone With the Wind. Kat watched with me and gallantly made it to the intermission before heading off to bed, but I persevered and saw it through to the end. And I have to admit, I'm very glad that I did. The next nominee from 1939, and the eventual winner of the Best Picture award, is none other than... Gone With the Wind Director : Victor Fleming Screenplay : Sidney Howard (based on the novel by Margaret Mitchell) Starring : Vivien Leigh, Clark Gable, Leslie Howard, Olivia de Havilland, Thomas Mitchell, Hattie McDaniel Academy Awards : 13 nominations 8 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actress I've written and rewritten this opening sentence at least a dozen times in the vain hope I might be able to introduce this film by conveying somet...

It's the Labor Day weekend here in the United States and last night, my darling wife Kat and I attended a party with some friends. To make a long story short, I got a little intoxicated. Don't panic, I didn't embarrass myself (at least, I don't think I did) but I did suffer from some crazy dreams last night, no doubt induced by that hazy dehydration the human brain experiences when its owner has consumed too much alcohol and not enough water. I don't remember the details exactly, but I'm sure it had something to do with the films of 1939. A sign that I'm too obsessed with this project? No, probably just a sign that I shouldn't drink so much. Yesterday, before the imbibing began, I reached the halfway point of the 1939 Best Picture competition when I watched... Of Mice and Men Director : Lewis Milestone Screenplay : Eugene Solow (based on the novel by John Steinbeck) Starring : Burgess Meredith, Betty Field, Lon Chaney, Jr., Charles Bickford, Roman Bohnen...

A brief and inconsequential anecdote from today's journeys in the Big Apple: I was on the 5th floor of a building on 42nd Street, heading to the elevator to go back down to the lobby. There was already a woman waiting, and as I approached, the elevator doors opened, so I naturally just hopped in after her. She asked me, "What floor?" and I told her the lobby, simultaneously noticing that she had already pressed number "9". Oops. I hadn't bothered to check to see that the elevator I was stepping into was actually going down. And obviously it wasn't. She graciously pressed "1" for me as I uttered the clichéd joke about going along for the ride. But when we got to the 9th floor, she took half a step out, realised she'd forgotten something, stepped back in, pressed "5" and giggled with embarrassment. So, back we went to the 5th floor, she got out and I continued my ride down to the lobby. Going along for the ride, indeed. Nothing mean...

This marks the first time in the project that I have watched two films (and, therefore, made two posts) in the same day, something that may need to occur more often. As mentioned in my first post , to successfully meet my arbitrary deadline, I need to keep up a steady pace of at least six movies per week. A little over two weeks into the project and I'm already behind! I'm somewhat restricted by how quickly Netflix can send me my next DVD, but also by other circumstances, including a brief trip to Atlanta next week, where I may not have any access to DVD-playing devices, let alone the time. Thus, now I attempt to catch up, before I fall even further behind, by increasing the movie to day ratio. It's a hard life. Tonight, Kat and I watched another nominee from the 1939 Best Picture race... Goodbye, Mr. Chips Director : Sam Wood Screenplay : R.C. Sherriff, Claudine West and Eric Maschwitz (based on the novel by James Hilton) Starring : Robert Donat, Greer Garson, Paul Henreid...

Since I have an international audience (if I have an audience ... are you out there?), let me briefly ponder the differences in spelling between Australian English and American English. As an Australian, I correspondingly spell words using Australian English, which, presumably, is directly derivative of English English, so no further explanation needed. But now that I live in the United States, I am introduced to what is almost an entirely different language. Having been exposed to so much American culture as a child, I have been fully aware of most differences in spelling for quite some time, but I still wonder how things got changed in the first place. I mean, who on earth decided that Americans didn't require the use of the letter 'U' in certain words? And who first did the presto chango of the 'R' and the 'E' at the ends of other words? And why, oh why, does 'aluminium' lose an entire syllable? Was it all a result of the first Americans' hos...

As I launch into the Best Picture nominees of 1939, I am reminded of the stark differences between films from that era and films of today. There has been a great evolution in the art of cinema over the last seven decades. Acting has developed, directing has matured, but one of the most obvious transitions in my mind is that of the film score. It must have been an innovative composer, indeed, who first discovered that his orchestration did not need to consist entirely of instruments from the strings family. I mean, seriously, had composers in the golden years of Hollywood not heard of the flute or the oboe or the trombone? Or were violin manufacturers offering some kind of pay-per-use scheme? It seems almost every score in classic cinema is an oozing mishmash of stringsy drones and sighs. How on earth did people survive before rock and roll? Pardon the rant. Obviously, I'll need to wear my respectful film connoisseur hat when I watch these movies and accept that there were different...