Best Picture of 1992

Another list of nominees have been viewed, this time from 1992. And I know I've said it a million times already, but it bears repeating - this is a tough decision. All five films are most definitely worthy of their nomination.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1992 are:

The Crying Game

A Few Good Men

Howards End

Scent of a Woman

Unforgiven

Five very unique films in a variety of genres. I didn't dislike any of them, and would easily have been content if any of the five had won the Best Picture award. The difficulty in selecting my own favourite stems from the fact that each film stands out from the others for a different reason. Unforgiven's spectacular cinematography; A Few Good Men's wittily clever script; Scent of a Woman's engrossing lead performance; Howards End's exquisite design; and The Crying Game's ... well, I'm sure it wins at something, I just can't think of it right now. So, for that rather unwarranted reason, I'll strike The Crying Game off my list first.

Unforgiven was the Academy's choice for Best Picture. And it's a choice I understand. The dark western is at once epic and intimate, a seemingly contradictory quality that is certainly popular amongst Academy voters, and rightly so. I appreciate Unforgiven. As a devotee of film, I acknowledge its qualities, but it would be pretentious of me to select it as my favourite, simply because I didn't gain the most enjoyment from it. Almost exactly the same thing can be said of Howards End. Although a delicately crafted film, it simply was not my favourite.

So that leaves us with A Few Good Men and Scent of a Woman. Very difficult to separate. Both contain sentimentalities, but perhaps I'm a sucker for that sentimental stuff. The single moment by which I was most moved appeared in Scent of a Woman. However, its somewhat contrived resolution means that, instead, A Few Good Men is going to sneak away with the dubious title of Matt's favourite of 1992. Although the other four nominated films each captivated me in one way or another, it was this intelligent legal drama that more consistently drew me in.

Best Picture of 1992
Academy's choice: Unforgiven	Matt's choice: A Few Good Men

Your choice:

The next round of Matt vs. the Academy will consist of nominated films from 1939. There were 10 nominees that year, as there were for several awards years in the early days of Oscar, and, following the Academy's announcement a short while ago, next year's Best Picture race will again be contested by 10 films. A fascinating decision. Nonetheless, as you can see by the following list, 1939 was a spectacular year for classic cinema.

And 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

A fine couple of weeks of viewing ahead, that's for sure.

1992 - Howards End

As I draw the second round of Matt vs. the Academy to a close, I have to admit that I'm truly enjoying this project. And as The Carpenters once said, we've only just begun. As expected, these are all terrific movies, and despite the daunting number of films yet to go, I'm honestly looking forward to the months ahead.

And so, the final Best Picture contender of 1992 was...

Howards End

Director:
James Ivory

Screenplay:

Ruth Prawer Jhabvala

(based on the novel by E.M. Forster)

Starring:

Anthony Hopkins, Emma Thompson, Helena Bonham Carter, Vanessa Redgrave, Samuel West, James Wilby, Prunella Scales

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

3 wins, including Best Actress and Best Adapted Screenplay

From Merchant Ivory, the production team whose name has become synonymous with the period drama, comes Howards End, a tale that concerns itself with the Schlegel sisters, Margaret and Helen, and their relationships with two other families, the well-off Wilcoxes and the not-so-well-off Basts. Margaret befriends the Wilcox matriarch, who scribbles a last-minute will, bequeathing her family home, the Howards End of the title, to her new best friend. The Wilcox family dismiss this will as the ramblings of a dying woman and throw it on the fire, neglecting to mention it to Margaret. Perhaps as a response to his guilt, the widower Wilcox offers to help the Schlegels find new housing after their lease is up, and, lo and behold, he ends up proposing to Margaret, who graciously accepts.

Meanwhile, Helen befriends Leonard Bast, a struggling clerk of a lower class than she, and takes him on as a sort of project, attempting to better his lot in life. Of course, she ends up offering him more of herself than she first intended ... if you catch my drift.

It's that kind of unspoken innuendo that permeates any good British period film, and Howards End is certainly no exception. The subtext in each word of dialogue could fill volumes. Nobody seems to speak their mind until it's too late. It's all about keeping up appearances, you see. To wit, Henry Wilcox's proposal to Margaret is almost like a business transaction.

It's interesting that I viewed this film, a fine example of a uniquely British genre, immediately after Unforgiven, a fine example of a uniquely American genre. Both contain intense depth to their conflicted characters. Consequently, both are rather moderately paced. Of course, one doesn't expect car chases and exploding buildings in these films, but you do have to concentrate.

As you would expect, the design in Howards End is exquisite, winning an Oscar for its Art Direction, plus a nomination for the Costume Design. Gazing on the lush scenery and wardrobe does indeed assist your imagination in transporting you to another era. In fact, when the film began, I felt a relaxing and pleasant feeling of comfort as I settled in to the story. That may have been the glass of wine I was drinking, but either way, it felt nice.

Another brilliant cast, as well. Emma Thompson won a Best Actress Oscar for her role as the talkative Margaret. And maybe if Anthony Hopkins hadn't won the previous year for playing Hannibal Lecter, he may have had a shot as the obdurate Henry Wilcox. And I can't forget to add my sprinkling of pop culture - Mrs. Fawlty herself, Prunella Scales, plays the Schlegel sisters' prissy Aunt.

So, that was the fifth and final nominee for 1992. Tomorrow shall come the verdict and it's another tough one ... Will there be any other kind?

1992 - Unforgiven

After a bit more research, I have now narrowed down my list of unavailable Best Picture nominees to just three. It appears that two are bereft of commercial releases - 1930-31 nominee East Lynne and 1934 nominee The White Parade. Both films apparently survive in prints at the UCLA Film Archive, accessible by prior authorisation (whatever that means). The third missing film is genuinely missing. The Patriot, nominated in 1928-29, is simply lost, save for one reel that was found a few years ago in Portugal, of all places. The three-minute trailer still exists as well, housed again at UCLA. Perhaps I can just substitute the missing film for the Mel Gibson war epic of the same name.

This probably means that those three awards years will be left to nearer the end of the project and I'll deal with those films' unavailability when the time comes. But, who knows - maybe, if we're lucky, the rest of The Patriot will show up in someone's attic before I'm done.

Today, it was time for 1992's eventual winner of the Best Picture race...

Unforgiven

Director:

Clint Eastwood

Screenplay:

David Webb Peoples

Starring:

Clint Eastwood, Gene Hackman, Morgan Freeman, Richard Harris, Jaimz Woolvett, Saul Rubinek, Frances Fisher

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

4 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Supporting Actor

A blend of film noir and western, Unforgiven relates the story of William Munny, a retired gunslinger with a shamefully violent past. He learnt the error of his ways thanks to the love of a good woman, but she passed on a few years ago and now it's just him and his two kids, barely scraping by on a farm in 1880s Kansas.

Meanwhile, in the oddly-named town of Big Whiskey, Wyoming, a local prostitute is repeatedly slashed across the face when she foolishly lets slip a giggle upon witnessing the size (or lack thereof) of a customer's wedding tackle. The town's hard-nosed sheriff, oddly named Little Bill, delivers a relatively lenient punishment to the assailant, oddly named Quick Mike, and his companion, which is deemed less than satisfactory by the whore's madam, oddly named Strawberry Alice. Consequently, she and the rest of the girls in the brothel pool together $1,000 to offer as a reward to anyone who can kill the two ruffians. Unsurprisingly, the hard-nosed sheriff is none too happy about his ruling being ignored, so his nose just becomes harder.

The mission is hastily taken on by a brash young man, oddly named the Schofield Kid, who enlists the help of Mr. Munny after hearing of his murderous ways of yore. Munny, in turn, enlists the help of his old friend, not so oddly named Ned, and the unlikely trio set off to win the reward, unaware of Little Bill's intent to thwart any who try.

The first thing that strikes the viewer on watching Unforgiven is the superbly beautiful cinematography. The vastness of the Western landscapes, the flickering intensity of the campfire light, the sparkly daggers of the heavy rain, and the uniquely imposing shape of Clint Eastwood's snarling face. From the opening silhouette, the visuals take on a role of their own. And it's nice to have something so pleasant to look at while you wait for the story to unfold. For Unforgiven moves at a fairly leisurely pace, right up until the final act. It's not that nothing happens. Not at all. There's always something happening, but there is a languishing intensity that keeps things moving a little slowly, which is something not unusual for this genre. I mean, you can't very well have a fast-paced suspenseful showdown, now, can you?

It is amusing to see Clint playing the inept out-of-practice cowboy. He has trouble mounting his horse. He falls face first into the mud while trying to rustle up his pigs. He can't even shoot a tin can off a stump. But we also see the Clint we know and love - the brooding Clint, the imposing Clint, the calmly confrontational Clint. Supporting him are two legends of the screen, Gene Hackman, exquisitely ruthless in his Oscar-winning role as the sheriff, and Morgan Freeman, brilliant as always, as Clint's only real friend. Plus, we get a treat with Professor Dumbledore ... I mean, Richard Harris, as the sheriff's long-time nemesis, English Bob.

Despite it's deliberate pace, the shootouts and showdowns, obligatory in all Westerns, are indeed riveting. But Unforgiven is first and foremost a thinker. There are plenty of moral ambiguities and internal struggles to mull over once the closing credits roll.

1992 - Scent of a Woman

As New York provided us with the first day in weeks that hasn't left me dripping with sweat, Kat and I spent a lazy afternoon watching the third of 1992's Best Picture nominees. And, I have to say, 1992 has turned out to be a cracker of a year for film, and as Mike indicated in a comment on yesterday's post, the final five are only a small sampling of the fare available in any given year. (The Player is a favourite of mine, too.) Perhaps one day, I'll manage to start this whole project over again and watch every film ever made in each year to make the project more complete ... or perhaps not. Still, I know I'm missing out on several fantastic films, but I better not start lamenting that now, or I'll never get through this...

Scent of a Woman

Director:

Martin Brest

Screenplay:

Bo Goldman

Starring:

Al Pacino, Chris O'Donnell, James Rebhorn, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Gabrielle Anwar

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

1 win, for Best Actor

Lt. Colonel Frank Slade has had quite a life. A retired Army officer, he spent time on President Johnson's staff, before forcing his own early retirement, a feat achieved by unsuccessfully juggling hand grenades while intoxicated. Not only was it the end of his military career, but also the beginning of a sightless existence. The Colonel was probably cantankerous before he became blind, but now he is downright irascible.

Charlie Simms, on the other hand, is a mild-mannered prep school boy, receiving a private education despite his unwealthy roots. In order to pay for the airfare home to Oregon for Christmas, he agrees to a sort of babysitting job, taking care of the stubborn Colonel over the Thanksgiving weekend. But Col. Slade has other plans. He's bought tickets to New York City, where he intends to enjoy one last hurrah before blowing his brains out. And he's bringing Charlie along for the ride... as the tagline for the film reveals.

They fly first class, lodge at the Waldorf Astoria, dine at the Oak Room, test drive a Ferrari. The Colonel dances the tango with a beautiful woman and spends a few sordid moments with another. All the while, he manages to convince Charlie from skedaddling. For Charlie has problems of his own. He and another student are the only witnesses who can identify the masterminds behind an embarrassing prank on the headmaster. And if Charlie doesn't spill the beans, he'll be expelled, thereby kissing Harvard goodbye.

Scent of a Woman is most definitely an Al Pacino vehicle. Despite the film containing a great deal more that's worthy of consideration, it is Al, in all his Method acting glory, that makes this so watchable. He takes on the mannerisms of a blind person with great precision and authenticity, and he won a long-awaited Oscar for it. Right from the scene where Frank Slade is introduced, we are enthralled by his characterisation, and through the course of the film, sense his pain and desparation, juxtaposed against his passion. And really, what chance does Chris O'Donnell have alongside such a master? I've never been a huge fan of his, but, in his defense, even if he were the greatest actor of his generation, he wouldn't be able to steal a scene from Al.

Philip Seymour Hoffman, in his breakthrough performance as the slimy rich kid who all but leaves Charlie out to dry, displays why he has become such a respected actor. Fortunately for him, most of his scenes were sans Al. Also, one of my favourite "who's that guy?" actors, James Rebhorn, appears as the scheming headmaster.

I made mention yesterday of A Few Good Men's cheesy score, postulating that it was a sign of the times. However, Thomas Newman's score of Scent of a Woman proves that the times had nothing to do with it. Newman, in his distinctive manner, manages to capture the mood precisely.

Scent of a Woman is a great ride. A fabulous character study. Perhaps the unfortunate consequence is that the prep school subplot that bookends the picture, although fascinating in its own right, doesn't quite match the emotional potency of Slade's journey. And maybe that's Pacino's fault for being so darn captivating. Once his story is resolved, there's still another 20 minutes left. But at least, he is involved in the resolution of the subplot, and I guess, you could rightly argue, that his character's journey isn't really complete until he takes part in resolving Charlie's issues. Well, I've pretty much given it all away now, so I hope you've seen it already.

At any rate, the final conclusion is just a little too pat and contrived for my liking. I feel a little unfair in saying this, but I almost wish the film had ended 20 minutes earlier.

1992 - A Few Good Men

Another industry meeting tonight, this time with a casting director, who complimented me on my ability to drop my natural Australian accent in favour ... I mean, favor ... of an American dialect. All those years growing up watching American television and films have served me well.

Although, the thought does occur that ninety percent of the actors with which I will be competing for a role can also speak with a flawless American accent, because they are American. So, I'm not quite sure that really sets me apart. Still, the casting director assured me that there are plenty of foreigners in this town that are simply unable to achieve that convincing Yankee sound. Which I guess means that I'm one step ahead when it comes to auditioning for all those foreign-person-with-an-American-accent roles.

Earlier today, I sat down to watch the next in the 1992 Best Picture shortlist...

A Few Good Men

Director:

Rob Reiner

Screenplay:

Aaron Sorkin

(based on his play)

Starring:

Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, Jack Nicholson, Kevin Bacon, Kevin Pollak, Keifer Sutherland, J.T. Walsh

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

0 wins

Lt. Daniel Kaffee is the hot-shot young Navy lawyer assigned to defend two Marines, accused of murdering a weaker member of their unit. The death of the Private, they claim, was the unintentional result of a so-called Code Red (military slang for an ass-kicking), directly ordered by their platoon commander, the gruff and God-fearing 1st Lt. Kendrick, who is more than clear about his disdain for the victim. But, for anyone who is paying attention, we all know it probably goes much higher up, all the way to Col. Nathan R. Jessup, the stoically arrogant commanding officer, who undoubtedly shares Kendrick's disdain for Marines who complain.

Assisting Kaffee on the case are his trusted colleague Lt. Weinberg, who, all things considered, would rather be at home where his baby daughter is growing up, and the young and sassy Lt. Commander JoAnne Galloway, an ambitious Naval investigator with no real experience in the courtroom. What follows are several twists and turns and an adequate number of objections, both overruled and sustained, culminating in a tense climax.

A superb legal drama, A Few Good Men has deservedly won its reputation as a modern classic. Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin, creator of The West Wing, brings his wit and intelligence to the script, and I must admit, I have a bit of a thing for scenes in which lawyers cleverly outwit their opponents. It's just so satisfying, leaving you with a ridiculously smug grin on your face. It doesn't matter that it's all fictional - there's just something thrilling about seeing a bully get their come-uppance. And Sorkin makes sure there's no shortage of clever little victories amidst the necessary obstacles.

A brief glance at the cast list confirms why this film is so often cited during games of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. Plenty of name actors here. Tom Cruise is mostly decent as Kaffee, but still enjoys the occasional melodramatic moment. Keifer Sutherland as Kendrick seems like the evil counterpart of Jack Bauer. Especially enjoyable to watch is J.T. Walsh as Jessup's ashamed executive officer. Frequent Rob Reiner collaborator Christopher Guest (pictured), almost unrecognisable in the most serious portrayal I've ever seen him give, appears as an expert medical witness in fear of losing his job. And then there's Demi Moore and Kevin Pollak and Cuba Gooding, Jr. and a pre-E.R. Noah Wyle. And let's not forget Kevin Bacon himself.

Last but most certainly not least is Jack. Ah, Jack. For the better part of the film, he seems almost too stoic and restrained. But, boy, does he let loose in the courtroom. And even though you know it's coming, there is simply nothing more gripping and exciting than his oft-parodied line, "You can't handle the truth," and the speech that follows. A truly mesmerising moment. Due, in no small way, to Rob Reiner, one of the most eclectic directors of modern cinema. He makes sure the movie contains just the right amount of tension and humour.

The brief resolution is a little sentimental, but once you've been sucked in by the intensity of the preceding scenes, the sappiness just seems to work. Plus, it may just be a product of the era in which the film was made, but the synthesised score was a tad cheesy. Not enough to entirely disrupt the mood, but cheesy nonetheless.

1992 - The Crying Game

Thank heavens for the New York Public Library. After doing a relatively brief initial search for the availability of all the movies I need to watch over the coming months, there were a number that seemed not to be anywhere ... until I discovered the NYPL. They have copies of quite a number of the early Best Picture nominees. The only issue, of course, is that a lot of them are only available on VHS, so after getting rid of my seemingly redundant VCR a few months ago, it's now time to buy another one.

At this stage, there are still 10 films that I have been unable to source. (Which is not so bad, considering there are 455 that I have been able to find.) In the next few weeks, I'll post a link on the sidebar to a list of unavailable films and, hopefully, someone out there can help remedy the situation.

Into the second round of Matt vs. the Academy we go. It's 1992, and the first nominee is...

The Crying Game

Director:

Neil Jordan

Screenplay:

Neil Jordan

Starring:

Stephen Rea, Forest Whitaker, Miranda Richardson, Jaye Davidson, Jim Broadbent

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

1 win, for Best Original Screenplay

The one big challenge, with which every reviewer must grapple, upon writing about The Crying Game is to discuss the film without giving anything away. For the three people out there who remain unaware of the big twist, I shall try to avoid spoiling it for you ... but I won't try very hard.

The Crying Game centres on Fergus, who is of that most rare breed of anti-heroes: the terrorist with a heart of gold. He's an IRA activist, fighting for Ireland the only way he knows how - by helping to kidnap an English soldier and hold him hostage. But Fergus is the only member of his group who seems to treat their new roommate with even the slightest dignity. So, when Fergus is given the task to kill the soldier, it all goes horribly wrong.

Afterwards, Fergus needs to disappear, so he trots off to London to become invisible. But he can't help thinking of the girl that the English soldier told him about, so he seeks her out. At this point, it's probably best for me to stop summarising the plot, but suffice it to say, there are plenty more complications.

Now, despite the fact that the main shocker occurs approximately half way into the film, it does somewhat lessen the effect of the first half if the viewer is aware of it (as I was the first time I saw this film many years ago). I mean, it's all so bleedingly obvious when you know. But, as it happens, there is, in fact, a whole new enjoyment level to experience from the persepective one gains by possessing this secretive knowledge. Small gestures, half-finished sentences, words oddly emphasised. They all take on a much deeper meaning. You gain an insight into the characters' emotions that is simply not there when you don't know what's really going on.

Writer/director Neil Jordan crafts an intense drama/thriller and deservedly won the Best Original Screenplay for his script. He also assembled a wonderful cast, including Stephen Rea, Miranda Richardson and Jim Broadbent. Forest Whitaker is powerful as the English hostage, with an accent that was so convincing, I actually thought he was an English actor for many years. And for an American, he has quite an impressive bowling arm. Jaye Davidson is impossibly sultry as Dil, the soldier's girl. There's also a very interesting rendition of Stand By Your Man played over the closing credits, performed by Lyle Lovett.

One final note: As much as the producers attempted to thwart anyone from blowing their film's twist, it must have felt rather bittersweet when Jaye Davidson was nominated for Best Supporting Actor.