Best Picture of 1975

Once again, I am confronted with five very worthy contenders for the Best Picture crown. As is the case with most of the awards years of this decade, the films on 1975's shortlist could each plausibly have been my pick in some other year. Despite this abundance of cinematic excellence, I had little trouble selecting my favourite.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1975 are:

• Barry Lyndon
• Dog Day Afternoon
• Jaws
• Nashville
• One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

Five classics of 1970s film-making from five accomplished directors whose films feature heavily in this project. With the exception of perhaps Barry Lyndon, the only period piece in the mix, all these films achieve their engaging mood mostly through realistically conversational dialogue. Characters talk over each other and there is a general feeling of chaos. Understandable when you consider some of the circumstances - a bank robbery, a mental institution, a shark-induced panic. In any case, each of these films are certainly compelling so it simply comes down to degrees of compulsion.

In Nashville, Altman compellingly explores the country music industry with a fascinating fly-on-the-wall style and no shortage of characters. In Barry Lyndon, Kubrick compellingly studies 18th century social climbing with an austere attitude and a leisurely pace. In Dog Day Afternoon, Lumet compellingly relates the true story of a bizarre bank robbery with both tension and empathy. In Jaws, Spielberg compellingly presents a maritime thrill ride with genuine compassion and edge-of-your-seat suspense. In One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Forman compellingly examines mental health with a sincere sensibility and an utterly gripping climax.

With such a well-structured story and deft direction, Jaws comes very close to taking my top prize. But, like the Academy, sombre material often trumps action thrillers (or comedies, for that matter). Why? Probably because it is human nature to take serious matters more seriously than fun and excitement. Totally unfair, but what can you do? So, like the Academy, I am choosing One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest as my pick for the Best Picture of 1975 for its sheer powerfulness.

Best Picture of 1975
Academy's choice: One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest	Matt's choice: One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

Your choice:

Vote for your own favourite with the poll above. As to your collective wishes, we will now be moving to 1950 for our next five review subjects.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1950 are:

• All About Eve
• Born Yesterday
• Father of the Bride
• King Solomon's Mines
• Sunset Blvd.

Some fun films in that group, so stay tuned...

1975 - One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

A colleague at work asked me the other day whether my wife was a nerd. My initial response was to suggest that she is as much of a nerd as I am. That is to say, only slightly. I then proceeded to list some of the slightly nerdy things we do together, concluding with the fact that we are currently in the midst of completing Lego Star Wars on the Wii. I paused to comprehend what I had just said. Lego. Star Wars. Wii.

Yes. My wife is a nerd. As am I.

Today, I concluded the review of the Best Picture nominees from 1975 with my watching of...

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

Director:

Milos Forman

Screenplay:

Lawrence Hauben & Bo Goldman

(based on the novel by Ken Kesey)

Starring:

Jack Nicholson, Louise Fletcher, William Redfield, Brad Dourif, Sydney Lassick, Will Sampson, Danny DeVito, Christopher Lloyd, Dean R. Brooks

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

5 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Nicholson) & Best Actress (Fletcher)

Transferred from prison to a mental hospital for evaluation, Randle Patrick MacMurphy (Nicholson) stirs things up from the get-go. The subtly oppressive head of the ward, Nurse Ratched (Fletcher), almost immediately develops a strong dislike for MacMurphy, shooting down his suggestion to change the schedule in order to allow the patients to watch the World Series. MacMurphy's closest ally inside is the beefy but silent Chief Bromden and the two hatch a plan to escape to Canada, but not before causing some trouble first.

When I began watching One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, I had slightly miscalculated how much time I had in order to see it through to the end before having to leave home for a prior engagement. With about twenty minutes of the film remaining, I really ought to have switched the television off and come back to it later. However, so gripping is the film's final act that I literally could not pull myself away from the screen. Not an especially good excuse for tardiness, but gripping nonetheless.

Actually, the entire film is riveting, but those last few scenes are hauntingly powerful. When you despise a character as much as you despise Nurse Ratched - possibly the coldest bitch to appear on film - the conclusion becomes painfully tragic. Even though MacMurphy's methods are questionable, he brings excitement and adventure to the lives of his fellow patients, in complete opposition to Ratched's mind-numbing routine of emasculation. The one small consolation as a viewer is that whenever anyone calls Nurse Ratched by name, it almost sounds like Nurse Rat-shit. I'm juvenile, I know.

Despite other actors being offered the role before him, MacMurphy really is the perfect role for Jack Nicholson and he pulls it off with dangerous alacrity. On the surface, the character of Nurse Ratched seems like it does not require more than a soft voice and a stern look, but Louise Fletcher's simplicity is very effective. A young Danny DeVito gives a well-mannered performance as the delusional Martini. Christopher Lloyd (pictured) makes his feature film debut as the excitable Taber, although somehow, Taber doesn't seem half as insane as Doc Brown. Also premiering on the silver screen is Brad Dourif, delivering a spectacular performance as the young man with the most unfortunate name for someone with a stutter - Billy Bibbitt.

Cuckoo's Nest became only the second film to take out Oscars in all five major categories (Picture, Director, Actor, Actress and Screenplay) after It Happened One Night achieved the feat 41 years earlier. The Silence of the Lambs has since joined that very elite club.

1975 - Barry Lyndon

Have you ever eaten waffle fries? If not, find some now and eat them. They're just like regular fries, only shaped to look kind of like waffles. I'm not entirely sure how that happens. I assume it's some kind of latticed pressing implement. But whatever the method, it takes regular slices of potato and turns them into crispy waffles of deliciousness. My local diner makes them and, if it weren't so detrimental to my arteries, I could live off them.

Today, I viewed another Kubrick entry into the Best Picture nominated family, this one from 1975...

Barry Lyndon

Director:

Stanley Kubrick

Screenplay:

Stanley Kubrick

(based on the novel by William Makepeace Thackeray)

Starring:

Ryan O'Neail, Marisa Berenson, Patrick Magee, Hardy Kruger, Leon Vitali

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

4 wins, including Best Cinematography

Redmond Barry (O'Neal) is an 18th century Irishman with a crush on his own cousin who, despite her initial reciprocation, shuns him for a well-to-do English Captain. After a pistol duel, Barry is forced to flee his small village in search of a noble life. He winds up in Europe, fighting in the British Army during the Seven Years War. Not thinking much of that game, he deserts but is caught by a Prussian Army Captain (Kruger), who soon puts him to work on an espionage mission with a crooked gambler (Magee). Barry's dreams of nobility lead him to wed Lady Lyndon (Berenson), making an enemy of his new stepson (Vitali).

Barry Lyndon (the film, not the character) is certainly in no rush. It begins very earnestly with dramatic pauses, lingering looks and sweeping landscapes. Each line is so desperately important, it almost feels like a period soap opera. But this sincerity grabs hold of you and you find yourself swept away into another world. A world with plenty of rules, and just as many schemers willing to break them.

Ironically, despite the film's crawling pace, there are several segments which seem oddly rushed. A scene will last several minutes, involving lengthy pauses, only to be followed by a scene that takes place weeks or months later. This is particularly evident in the film's relationships. On more than one occasion, Barry meets a new character in an intense and prolonged scene and, one scene later, thanks to some convenient narration, they have a fully developed relationship. And since it's a Stanley Kubrick film, you can expect that some of those characters will be at least mildly enigmatic. (A particular favourite of mine is Captain Feeney, a highwayman with a deadly gaze and a polite tongue.)

When watching Barry Lyndon, your eyes are certainly treated to an extravaganza of design. Oscars for Cinematography, Art Direction and Costume Design were understandably lavished upon the film, not to mention the stunning locations. The film's other Oscar was for Leonard Rosenman's arrangement of compositions by Handel, Bach, Vivaldi, Schubert and Mozart, amongst others, back when the Academy presented an award for a score adaptation. (Rosenman made it two for two the following year when he won again for adapting the songs of Woody Guthrie for Bound for Glory.)

Barry Lyndon's other three nominations went to Kubrick himself, for writing, directing and producing the film. Sadly, he won none of them. In fact, despite numerous nominations in each of those categories, the only Oscar he ever won was for Visual Effects for 2001: A Space Odyssey.

1975 - Dog Day Afternoon

Once again, I have been waylaid from my duties here at Matt vs. the Academy. And once again, it is due to an exciting work opportunity.

This week, I spent time in Peekskill, New York, on the set of Mildred Pierce, an upcoming HBO mini-series, based on the novel by James M. Cain. Coincidentally, this production is linked to this blog for two reasons. First, it is based on the same source material as the 1945 Best Picture-nominated Joan Crawford film of the same name, which will be reviewed right here in due course. Second, it stars Kate Winslet, who appears in a number of films on the Best Picture honour roll.

The character I played had the not-at-all demeaning moniker Starched Collar Man #2, which perhaps gives you an indication of his importance to the plot. Nonetheless, the entire experience was incredibly exciting, if for no other reason than I rubbed shoulders (and will share the screen) with Ms. Winslet. Although I did not have the chance to chat to her at length, I did have short conversations with co-star Mare Winningham and director Todd Haynes.

I will attempt to catch up on lost time by speeding up my movie-watching agenda (no promises, though). Today, I found some time to watch another 1975 Best Picture nominee...

Dog Day Afternoon

Director:

Sidney Lumet

Screenplay:

Frank Pierson

(based on an article by P.F. Kluge and Thomas Moore)

Starring:

Al Pacino, John Cazale, Charles Durning, Chris Sarandon, James Broderick

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

1 win, for Best Original Screenplay

On a hot summer's day in 1972, Sonny Wortzik (Pacino), along with two accomplices, walks into a bank in Brooklyn, New York, in order to steal some cash to pay for his boyfriend's (Sarandon) sex-change operation. Within minutes, one of his accomplices chickens out, hightailing it out of there. The other, Sal (Cazale), is a bundle of nerves, dangerously close to blowing everyone's brains out. What should have been a quick theft quickly turns into a media circus once the cops arrive, headed first by Detective Meretti (Durning) before being turned over to the FBI and Agent Sheldon (Broderick). With dozens of cameras and hundreds of onlookers, Sonny attempts to outwit the scheming cops while dealing with his nervous accomplice, his hysterical ex-wife, his overbearing mother and his suicidal lover.

In different hands, Dog Day Afternoon could easily have been a laugh-out-loud farce, but director Sidney Lumet and his talented cast play every scene entirely straight. On paper, the unfolding events are absurd. Indeed, if it weren't based on a true story, it would be utterly implausible. Yet, the absurdity of the story is its most fascinating attribute. And since it is not played for laughs, it is all the more humorous.

This film is also a particularly interesting character study. Pacino (pictured) is nothing short of superb in his Oscar-nominated portrayal of Sonny, perfectly capturing both his righteousness and his insecurity. And Sonny is a complex guy to play. Not your typical protagonist, his own desperation confuses him. He tries to be tough, but his compassion always seems to get in the way. He's well-meaning, but he's obviously made a horribly stupid mistake. In the end, we find ourselves sympathising with a bank robber and not minding that we're doing so.

The anti-establishment tones throughout the film are highlighted by the way in which the gawking crowd tease the cops as they try to negotiate with Sonny. It could also be said that this sideshow event was, in a way, an early version of reality TV. The events unfold on the news, bringing more and more people down to the bank to get a look at the "stars". When a pizza delivery boy arrives on the scene, he is absolutely overjoyed to be a part of the spectacle.

Pacino is supported wonderfully by John Cazale, showcasing the brooding and potentially explosive nature of Sal. Chris Sarandon earned an Oscar nomination for his emotional turn as the confused Leon. Charles Durning's sincere performance as the detective reaches its captivating heights during an amazing exchange with Pacino after Sonny fires a shot. And James Broderick owns his stoic portrayal of the no-nonsense FBI agent. Also look out for The Sopranos' Dominic Chianese playing Sonny's father.

Even though the real Sonny was serving time in prison by the time the film was released, he still received money from the production company for the rights to his story. In the final irony to this whole saga, that money was used to finally get his boyfriend that sex-change operation. You can't make this stuff up.

1975 - Jaws

The poll for the next year of review is now up, so have your say - it's over there on the right.

Kat and I had the chance to get out of the city last weekend with my parents, who are here visiting for a couple of weeks. We didn't go too far, though - only about an hour north of New York City to the town of Sleepy Hollow, named after the Washington Irving story. In fact, the town was known as North Tarrytown until 1996 when they decided to change the name to honour its most famous resident. We visited Irving's home as well as his grave in the ominously named Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Although I've seen the Johnny Depp movie, I've never actually read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and upon visiting the author's home, I am reminded of how little classic fiction I have read. Well, at least my complaint about not having seen enough classic cinema is being remedied. Perhaps when I finish this project, I can move on to Matt vs. the Pulitzer ... or not.

Last night, I was excited to join my wife as she experienced for the first time the modern classic and 1975 Best Picture nominee...

Jaws

Director:

Steven Spielberg

Screenplay:

Peter Benchley and Carl Gottlieb

(based on the novel by Peter Benchley)

Starring:

Roy Scheider, Robert Shaw, Richard Dreyfuss, Lorraine Gary, Murray Hamilton

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

3 wins, including Best Original Score (John Williams)

Often considered the father of the modern blockbuster, Jaws is Steven Spielberg's first big hit. The iconic film is set on idyllic Amity Island, a popular summer vacation spot. When a young woman is devoured by a shark during a late-night beach party, the Chief of Police, Martin Brody (Scheider), wants to shut the beaches down. Mayor Vaughn (Hamilton) resists the decision, claiming the town relies on summer tourism. The beaches remain open, but when the shark returns, causing more deaths, Brody teams up with Quint (Shaw), an eccentric old salt, and Matt Hooper (Dreyfuss), a shark expert from the Oceanographic Institute. Together, the three set out on Quint's boat to capture the shark.

Right from the start, Jaws is all about the tension. The opening scene is simply chilling. As an audience, we are constantly waiting for something horribly nasty to happen and that agonising suspense is what makes this movie so darn watchable. Adding to this fear of the unknown is the fact that the shark itself only appears in glimpses for the most part. Apparently, this shyness is a lot to do with the complications involved in filming an often defective mechanical shark. But whatever the reason, the result is an amazing manipulation of the audience's imagination.

Certainly, Spielberg can be credited with the creation of an impressive thriller, perhaps influenced by the Master of Suspense, Alfred Hitchcock. Indeed, the dolly zoom, a camera technique pioneered in Vertigo, is used with powerful effect in Jaws, highlighting Brody's worst fears. However, it would be improper not to recognise the other collaborators in this film's success, particularly Verna Fields and her Oscar-winning film editing, and John Williams and his Oscar-winning score. A relatively simple yet immensely effective orchestration that has embedded itself in popular culture.

The script, too, is well-constructed, the dialogue, at times chaotic, enhancing the sense of mayhem in the town. That frenzied feeling can also be attributed to the exceptional cast. Roy Scheider, in particular, perfectly represents a desperate man in over his head. Richard Dreyfuss portrays the expert with passion and humility. And Robert Shaw is absolutely delightful as the gruff but oddly lovable fisherman. His speech about the USS Indianapolis is surely one of the greatest monologues on celluloid.

Spielberg himself did not receive a nomination from the Academy for his direction of this film. However, Jaws won three of its four citations, only missing out on the big one itself, Best Picture.

1975 - Nashville

Apologies for the short delay in starting the next year of review. The IRS (that's the American equivalent of the ATO, for my Aussie readers) was in need of my money, and for some reason, this country has the most unnecessarily complicated tax system in the world. Thus, it took a short time to figure it out. I have also been hard at work performing in a pilot for an upcoming dramatic web series, named Pioneer One, which is shooting this week. It's a very innovative and suspenseful story with the makings of a cult sensation (if I do say so myself). I'm quite chuffed (that's the Australian equivalent of proud, for my American readers) to be involved. Check out the hype at the official website.

You may notice there is no poll to decide the next year to review. Fear not, I will add it soon. Just ran out of time today. I did, however, find a small window of time today to begin the review of 1975's Best Picture nominees, starting with...

Nashville

Director:

Robert Altman

Screenplay:

Joan Tewkesbury

Starring:

Ned Beatty, Karen Black, Ronee Blakley, Keith Carradine, Geraldine Chaplin, Shelley Duvall, Henry Gibson, Scott Glenn, Lily Tomlin

Academy Awards:

5 nominations

1 win, for Best Song ("I'm Easy")

One of Robert Altman's signature slice-of-life pictures, Nashville follows 24 characters over the course of a few days in the country music capital of the world. Rather than trying to summarise the story on my own, I'll let the film's trailer speak for itself.

As might be evident, there's a lot going on in Nashville. Most of the scenes are not traditionally structured. There's not much beginning, middle and end action going on - it's mostly just middle. We hear snippets of conversations and then, just as quick, we're on to the next conversation. And they are mostly rather ordinary conversations. Which is not to say nothing interesting happens. (Within the first twenty minutes, for example, there's a multi-car pile-up on the freeway.) It's just that none of those interesting things end up meaning anything. Something else just happens immediately after ... and then something else ... and then something else ... Just like life.

And therein lies the fascination with Nashville. The fly-on-the-wall type narrative is utterly mesmerising. Apparently, the story is based on the travel diary that screenwriter Joan Tewkesbury kept during a short visit to the country music mecca, which may explain its rambling nature, but it's those little details that keep you glued to the screen. Who could honestly look away when the mysterious motor-tricyclist (played by Jeff Goldblum) is discovered shaving in a rear-vision mirror at a school bus depot. Totally random. And considering this random rambling lasts for two hours and forty minutes, it's a rather impressive feat that it holds your attention. Although, it must be said, the story's intensity and cohesion increases as the film continues and its climax is especially captivating.

There is a fair amount of concert footage padding out the film's length, but even if you're not a fan of country music, there is plenty of emotional subtext during the songs. The Oscar-winning "I'm Easy" is particularly heart-string-pulling. The womanising singer (played by Keith Carradine, pictured) introduces the song with an ambiguous dedication, resulting in at least four women thinking that he is singing to them. Interestingly, a lot of the songs in the film were written by the actors who perform them, and oddly, there is also one by Gary Busey, who does not appear in the film at all.

Improvisation was encouraged by director Robert Altman and that is certainly evident. The cast are all extremely adept at the naturalism required of them. Lily Tomlin, better known for her comedic roles, proves her accomplished dramatic talent in her turn as a dissatisfied housewife. I also particularly enjoyed Michael Murphy's performance as the smooth campaign organiser. Jeff Goldblum shows his sleight of hand (literally) in this mute role, one of his very first appearances on screen. And adding to the film's realistic feel, Elliott Gould and Julie Christie make cameo appearances.