Awards season is well and truly under way now with most of the critics groups releasing their top picks, including nominations from the Golden Globes and the Critics Choice Awards. There are a few films that seem to be appearing again and again on these lists - Wicked, Anora, The Brutalist, Conclave, Nickel Boys, Dune: Part Two - suggesting these are the frontrunners for Oscar's top prize. Personally, I tend to be wary of the "critics mirage" since the critics' preferences don't always align with those who work in the industry. It's not uncommon for a film or actor to sweep the critics' awards yet find themselves left off the shortlist on Oscar nomination day. That said, I expect those films above will remain in the conversation (particularly since there are 10 Best Picture nominee slots to fill) but it would be wise to wait for the nomination announcements from the guilds and other industry organisations, including BAFTA, to see exactly which ones have the staying power.
Back to the 2010 Best Picture race, I recently viewed another of its nominees...
True Grit
Director:
Joel & Ethan Coen
Screenplay:
Joel & Ethan Coen
(based on the novel by Charles Portis)
Starring:
Jeff Bridges, Hailee Steinfeld, Matt Damon, Josh Brolin, Barry Pepper, Domhnall Gleeson
Academy Awards:
10 nominations
0 wins
Based on the same source novel as the 1969 John Wayne movie of the same name, this version is an attempt at a more faithful adaptation. Well, as faithful as a Coen brothers movie can be. Our heroine is Mattie Ross (Steinfeld), who narrates the story of how she hired past-his-prime U.S. Marshal Rooster Cogburn (Bridges) to help her track down and bring to justice Tom Chaney (Brolin), the outlaw who murdered her father.
From the first shot, this picture looks positively gorgeous, thanks to Roger Deakins' beautiful cinematography. With its sweeping landscapes, it's the sort of visual style you'd expect from a grand epic, yet this is far more intimate and personal. The dramatis personae are relatively few and the runtime falls short of two hours, creating a tight story that remains engrossing throughout. And then there's the language. The Coen brothers clearly enjoy playing with language and True Grit is no exception. While the formal-sounding dialogue (not a single contraction is spoken!) may be a little distracting at times, it certainly sets a uniquely fascinating tone.
Rooster Cogburn is one of those rare characters for which two actors have received Oscar nominations. John Wayne won for his turn in the earlier version, but while Jeff Bridges was also shortlisted for this remake, he had already won an Oscar a year earlier with Crazy Heart and didn't pull off back-to-back wins. Nonetheless, he steals the show with his fantastic portrayal of the multi-faceted lawman. In her breakout role, Hailee Steinfeld holds her own as the precocious and insistent teenager with a mile-a-minute cadence. She does well with the aforementioned distinctive dialogue, but it's the silent moments of reflection where she truly shines. In those instances, her less-is-more technique is spot on. Matt Damon, Josh Brolin and Barry Pepper also bring their A-games in effective supporting roles. Another bright spot is a young Domhnall Gleeson (pictured) in an early film role. And if you listen carefully, you can briefly hear the voice of J.K. Simmons as Mattie's lawyer.
On nominations morning, True Grit found itself second only to The King's Speech in total Oscar nominations. Its 10 nods, including Best Picture, are a testament to its exceptional achievement across many filmmaking disciplines, yet on Oscar night, it failed to pick up a single award.
Showing posts with label 2010. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2010. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 17, 2024
Saturday, November 30, 2024
2010 - Black Swan
Oscar season is heating up as more and more genuine contenders are released. I'm once again finding myself behind the eight ball with a lot of catching up to do in terms of viewing said contenders, so I won't offer any thoughts about frontrunners just yet, except to say at the top of my watchlist right now are current box office hits Wicked and Gladiator II, as well as the smaller talks-of-the-town Anora and Conclave. Varying degrees of buzz around each of those films.
Next up on our tour of the Best Picture nominees of 2010 is...
Black Swan
Director:
Darren Aronofsky
Screenplay:
Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John McLaughlin
Starring:
Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassell, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder, Benjamin Millepied, Ksenia Solo, Sebastian Stan
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
1 win, for Best Actress (Portman)
As a member of the New York City Ballet, Nina (Portman) has high expectations of herself, almost as high as her overbearing mother (Hershey) who treats her like a child. When Thomas (Cassel), the harsh and unyielding artistic director, announces that Swan Lake will be the company's next production, Nina nervously auditions for the lead role. The audition does not seem to go well, but after an awkward interaction with Thomas, Nina unexpectedly wins the part. As opening night approaches, she becomes increasingly paranoid about being replaced by her free-spirited understudy Lily (Kunis), while also being forced to address her own oddly avian transformation.
As one expects from director Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan exudes a creepy vibe from the outset. Much of that psychologically disturbing atmosphere is created by a fascinating amalgamation of naturalism and surrealism (another of Aronofsky's trademarks). However, while the surrealist elements work like a dream (pun intended), the more naturalistic segments don't quite hit the mark for me. The dialogue is sparse of subtext as characters often say very obvious and blunt things that are not at all the way normal humans speak, which is ironic considering a major plot point is how Nina isn't real enough in her dancing. Of course, I'm probably just missing the point of surrealist art, but it seems to me that if you're going to attempt a veristic mood with shaky camerawork and authentic performances, then a less superficial script might help.
All that said, as we enter the second half of the movie, the surrealism is ratcheted up and things really start getting weird, at which point ... well, who cares about natural dialogue? The tension moving forward is executed perfectly (I mean, she's turning into an actual swan, for heaven's sake), layered with a healthy dose of horror tropes. There are jump-scares aplenty, shadowy figures you can't quite identify, and a mirror image that has a mind of its own. I'm usually not a fan of those sorts of bait-and-switch tricks because they often seem meaningless (like, do the hallucinations imply it's all in her head?), but in this case, they cleverly reveal the depths to which Nina has lost her mind. The result is a final act that is a genuinely thrilling ride. And considering surrealism and horror are two of my least favourite genres, that's high praise indeed.
As mentioned above, the performances are mostly naturalistic despite the unconvincing dialogue in the early parts of the film. Natalie Portman (pictured) won an Oscar for her portrayal of a passionate pleaser completely unravelling. She was the only member of the cast to even receive a nomination, despite some impressive performances by the supporting players. Mila Kunis, in particular, is breezy and mysterious, and was unlucky to miss out, in my opinion. So, too, was Vincent Cassel who injects Thomas with a cavalier intensity. And don't miss a pre-MCU Sebastian Stan, impressing in a small role.
Next up on our tour of the Best Picture nominees of 2010 is...
Black Swan
Director:
Darren Aronofsky
Screenplay:
Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John McLaughlin
Starring:
Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassell, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder, Benjamin Millepied, Ksenia Solo, Sebastian Stan
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
1 win, for Best Actress (Portman)
As a member of the New York City Ballet, Nina (Portman) has high expectations of herself, almost as high as her overbearing mother (Hershey) who treats her like a child. When Thomas (Cassel), the harsh and unyielding artistic director, announces that Swan Lake will be the company's next production, Nina nervously auditions for the lead role. The audition does not seem to go well, but after an awkward interaction with Thomas, Nina unexpectedly wins the part. As opening night approaches, she becomes increasingly paranoid about being replaced by her free-spirited understudy Lily (Kunis), while also being forced to address her own oddly avian transformation.
As one expects from director Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan exudes a creepy vibe from the outset. Much of that psychologically disturbing atmosphere is created by a fascinating amalgamation of naturalism and surrealism (another of Aronofsky's trademarks). However, while the surrealist elements work like a dream (pun intended), the more naturalistic segments don't quite hit the mark for me. The dialogue is sparse of subtext as characters often say very obvious and blunt things that are not at all the way normal humans speak, which is ironic considering a major plot point is how Nina isn't real enough in her dancing. Of course, I'm probably just missing the point of surrealist art, but it seems to me that if you're going to attempt a veristic mood with shaky camerawork and authentic performances, then a less superficial script might help.
All that said, as we enter the second half of the movie, the surrealism is ratcheted up and things really start getting weird, at which point ... well, who cares about natural dialogue? The tension moving forward is executed perfectly (I mean, she's turning into an actual swan, for heaven's sake), layered with a healthy dose of horror tropes. There are jump-scares aplenty, shadowy figures you can't quite identify, and a mirror image that has a mind of its own. I'm usually not a fan of those sorts of bait-and-switch tricks because they often seem meaningless (like, do the hallucinations imply it's all in her head?), but in this case, they cleverly reveal the depths to which Nina has lost her mind. The result is a final act that is a genuinely thrilling ride. And considering surrealism and horror are two of my least favourite genres, that's high praise indeed.
As mentioned above, the performances are mostly naturalistic despite the unconvincing dialogue in the early parts of the film. Natalie Portman (pictured) won an Oscar for her portrayal of a passionate pleaser completely unravelling. She was the only member of the cast to even receive a nomination, despite some impressive performances by the supporting players. Mila Kunis, in particular, is breezy and mysterious, and was unlucky to miss out, in my opinion. So, too, was Vincent Cassel who injects Thomas with a cavalier intensity. And don't miss a pre-MCU Sebastian Stan, impressing in a small role.
Tuesday, October 15, 2024
2010 - The Fighter
This past Saturday night was a nostalgic one for me as I attended the concert of a musical hero of mine. It had been more than 20 years since I last saw him live, but even at the age of 75, Billy Joel still knows how to put on a spectacular show. From start to finish, I couldn't stop smiling as I listened to all the hits and album tracks that have been ingrained in me since I was a teenager. Perhaps the most nostalgic part of the night, however, came when he introduced Axl Rose to the stage to sing Live and Let Die. You might not think those two have a lot of common fans, but in 1992, all I ever listened to was Billy Joel and Guns N' Roses, so my brain near exploded during that number. All in all, a fantastic night out.
From music back to movies, our next Best Picture nominee from 2010 is...
The Fighter
Director:
David O. Russell
Screenplay:
Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson, Keith Dorrington
Starring:
Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo, Mickey O'Keefe, Jack McGee
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
2 wins, for Best Supporting Actor (Bale) and Best Supporting Actress (Leo)
Welterweight boxer Micky Ward (Wahlberg) is struggling to find success, in large part due to poor choices made by his manager and trainer, who happen to be his mother (Leo) and his half-brother Dicky (Bale), himself an ex-fighter now addicted to crack. When Dicky's exploits lead to a prison sentence, Micky turns his back on his family in an attempt to bolster his career, finding a new manager and trainer.
The opening scene of The Fighter introduces us to the two main characters via an interview with a documentary film crew. While the film itself isn't presented as a faux documentary, it still makes clever use of this plot device on several occasions. Not only are the characters occasionally interviewed but the bouts are presented in the exact video-camera aesthetic of 1990s HBO. Even when these direct documentary techniques are not appropriate (i.e. scenes in which you would not expect a camera to be present), director David O. Russell still creates a realistic documentary-like tone by way of the camera work and the improvisational licence that appears to have been given to the performers.
Now, full disclosure, I'm not at all into boxing as a sport, but like any good sports movie, the story here is not just about our hero winning a few matches. We find ourselves completely invested in these characters and relationships, which, in turn, creates the high stakes required for a final fight that is full of edge-of-your-seat tension, even for non-boxing fans.
The Fighter features a fantastic cast who all deliver brilliantly raw performances. Christian Bale (pictured), in particular, exudes a natural grittiness that is simultaneously heart-warming and heart-breaking. Both he and Melissa Leo earned Oscars for their portrayals, deservedly so. Amy Adams (also nominated) and Jack McGee are also engaging and strong. And holding the story together in possibly a career-best performance is Mark Wahlberg, who is surprisingly gentle in the midst of so much violence and anger.
From music back to movies, our next Best Picture nominee from 2010 is...
The Fighter
Director:
David O. Russell
Screenplay:
Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson, Keith Dorrington
Starring:
Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo, Mickey O'Keefe, Jack McGee
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
2 wins, for Best Supporting Actor (Bale) and Best Supporting Actress (Leo)
Welterweight boxer Micky Ward (Wahlberg) is struggling to find success, in large part due to poor choices made by his manager and trainer, who happen to be his mother (Leo) and his half-brother Dicky (Bale), himself an ex-fighter now addicted to crack. When Dicky's exploits lead to a prison sentence, Micky turns his back on his family in an attempt to bolster his career, finding a new manager and trainer.
The opening scene of The Fighter introduces us to the two main characters via an interview with a documentary film crew. While the film itself isn't presented as a faux documentary, it still makes clever use of this plot device on several occasions. Not only are the characters occasionally interviewed but the bouts are presented in the exact video-camera aesthetic of 1990s HBO. Even when these direct documentary techniques are not appropriate (i.e. scenes in which you would not expect a camera to be present), director David O. Russell still creates a realistic documentary-like tone by way of the camera work and the improvisational licence that appears to have been given to the performers.
Now, full disclosure, I'm not at all into boxing as a sport, but like any good sports movie, the story here is not just about our hero winning a few matches. We find ourselves completely invested in these characters and relationships, which, in turn, creates the high stakes required for a final fight that is full of edge-of-your-seat tension, even for non-boxing fans.
The Fighter features a fantastic cast who all deliver brilliantly raw performances. Christian Bale (pictured), in particular, exudes a natural grittiness that is simultaneously heart-warming and heart-breaking. Both he and Melissa Leo earned Oscars for their portrayals, deservedly so. Amy Adams (also nominated) and Jack McGee are also engaging and strong. And holding the story together in possibly a career-best performance is Mark Wahlberg, who is surprisingly gentle in the midst of so much violence and anger.
Monday, October 7, 2024
2010 - Winter's Bone
A highlight of any Oscar fan's trip to Los Angeles will undoubtedly be the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures. I enjoyed such an outing last week when I attended the museum's third anniversary celebrations. After watching a special screening of Chaplin's The Gold Rush, I ventured into the exhibitions to absorb all I could. It was my second time visiting the museum, but as ever, I remained as intoxicated by the movie magic on display. Of particular interest were the spotlights on Casablanca and The Godfather, which housed Sam's piano and Don Corleone's desk, among other treasures.
Perhaps the most thrilling section for me, though, was the room dedicated to the Oscars ceremony itself. Various acceptance speeches are played on big screens surrounding a central display cabinet that provides a chronological history of the Academy Awards. Several past winners' Oscars are on display, as well as other artefacts, including presenters' envelopes and Oscar night programs. In the end, I ran out of time to see everything, so another visit seems imminent.
Moving on now to another contender from 2010's Best Picture showdown...
Winter's Bone
Director:
Debra Granik
Screenplay:
Debra Granik & Anne Rosellini
(based on the novel by Daniel Woodrell)
Starring:
Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Kevin Breznahan, Dale Dickey, Garret Dillahunt, Sheryl Lee, Lauren Sweetser, Tate Taylor
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
0 wins
In rural Missouri, Ree (Lawrence) is warned that her father is out on bail, but if he doesn't show up for his trial, the state will seize his house, meaning Ree and her ill mother and two younger siblings will have nowhere to live. Ree sets out to find out what happened to her father only to encounter a series of unsavoury characters in the meth business, all of whom want her to stop sticking her nose into their affairs.
Seemingly representative of the small town in which it's set, Winter's Bone maintains a slow-paced attitude, allowing the viewer to sink into an intensely uneasy atmosphere. Scene after scene is full of superbly executed tension, thanks to some deft direction by Debra Granik.
But if it's an uplifting story you're after, you'd best look elsewhere. Despite an essentially positive ending for the lead character, the film is brimming with truly awful characters, some of whom seem downright irredeemable. With the exception of our protagonist (though, she has her own flaws) and one or two others, almost everyone seems caught in a constant power struggle, obsessed with asserting their authority over others with displays of assholery, both verbal and physical. Ultimately, this is a study of the nasty side of the human condition.
The cast all live up to the challenge of playing the most atrocious characters they can muster and, while this constant humourless intensity sometimes feels a bit two-dimensional, some of the actors manage to bring added dimension to their portrayals, particularly John Hawkes (pictured) who earned himself a Best Supporting Actor nomination as the violent but conflicted uncle. Joining him on Oscar night was Jennifer Lawrence in her breakout role, becoming the second-youngest Best Actress nominee at the time (though she's since been bumped down to third). The film also garnered nods for Best Picture and Best Adapted Screenplay.
Perhaps the most thrilling section for me, though, was the room dedicated to the Oscars ceremony itself. Various acceptance speeches are played on big screens surrounding a central display cabinet that provides a chronological history of the Academy Awards. Several past winners' Oscars are on display, as well as other artefacts, including presenters' envelopes and Oscar night programs. In the end, I ran out of time to see everything, so another visit seems imminent.
Moving on now to another contender from 2010's Best Picture showdown...
Winter's Bone
Director:
Debra Granik
Screenplay:
Debra Granik & Anne Rosellini
(based on the novel by Daniel Woodrell)
Starring:
Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Kevin Breznahan, Dale Dickey, Garret Dillahunt, Sheryl Lee, Lauren Sweetser, Tate Taylor
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
0 wins
In rural Missouri, Ree (Lawrence) is warned that her father is out on bail, but if he doesn't show up for his trial, the state will seize his house, meaning Ree and her ill mother and two younger siblings will have nowhere to live. Ree sets out to find out what happened to her father only to encounter a series of unsavoury characters in the meth business, all of whom want her to stop sticking her nose into their affairs.
Seemingly representative of the small town in which it's set, Winter's Bone maintains a slow-paced attitude, allowing the viewer to sink into an intensely uneasy atmosphere. Scene after scene is full of superbly executed tension, thanks to some deft direction by Debra Granik.
But if it's an uplifting story you're after, you'd best look elsewhere. Despite an essentially positive ending for the lead character, the film is brimming with truly awful characters, some of whom seem downright irredeemable. With the exception of our protagonist (though, she has her own flaws) and one or two others, almost everyone seems caught in a constant power struggle, obsessed with asserting their authority over others with displays of assholery, both verbal and physical. Ultimately, this is a study of the nasty side of the human condition.
The cast all live up to the challenge of playing the most atrocious characters they can muster and, while this constant humourless intensity sometimes feels a bit two-dimensional, some of the actors manage to bring added dimension to their portrayals, particularly John Hawkes (pictured) who earned himself a Best Supporting Actor nomination as the violent but conflicted uncle. Joining him on Oscar night was Jennifer Lawrence in her breakout role, becoming the second-youngest Best Actress nominee at the time (though she's since been bumped down to third). The film also garnered nods for Best Picture and Best Adapted Screenplay.
Saturday, September 21, 2024
2010 - Toy Story 3
After a 14-hour flight yesterday, I'm writing this from the sunny climes of Los Angeles. Long-haul air travel is excruciating, of course, but the silver lining is always the chance to watch as many movies as I can cram in between take-off and landing. This time, I managed four, and it was an eclectic bunch. I caught up with a couple of recent films I missed at the cinema (Kinds of Kindness and Civil War) and threw in a couple of classic comedies to boot (Beetlejuice and Monty Python's The Meaning of Life). A half-day well spent.
Before I left Sydney, I watched the next nominee in 2010's Best Picture race...
Toy Story 3
Director:
Lee Unkrich
Screenplay:
Michael Arndt, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich
Starring:
Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Don Rickles, Wallace Shawn, John Ratzenberger, Estelle Harris, Ned Beatty, Michael Keaton, Jodi Benson, John Morris, Laurie Metcalf
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
2 wins, for Best Animated Feature and Best Original Song
With Andy (Morris) heading off to college, all his old toys, except for Woody (Hanks), assume they are to be thrown away. Despite Woody's attempts to convince them otherwise, the other toys sneak into a donation box bound for Sunnyside Daycare, where they dream of being played with by many different children. Reality soon sets in, though, as the toys experience the chaos that is toddler playtime while also having to deal with Sunnyside's de facto leader, a villainous teddy bear named Lotso (Beatty), who kidnaps Buzz Lightyear (Allen) and resets him to factory settings.
In preparation for watching Toy Story 3, I rewatched the first two films in the series, and similar themes popped up each time. In all three stories, the predominant driver of the plot is that Woody is afraid that Andy doesn't want to play with him anymore. In the first one, he thinks Buzz is going to replace him. In the second one, he worries that Andy is getting too old to play with any of his toys. And in this one, there's a genuine fear that all the toys are going to be thrown out altogether. Toy Story 2 and 3 also share a similar antagonist: an older authority figure who appears sweet at first, but turns out to be evil. Despite the similarities, this third instalment is more intricate than the first two, which were relatively straightforward. The series seemingly matures along with Andy.
Speaking of maturity, not only does Toy Story 3 contain the usual jokes aimed exclusively at the grownups, a signature of Pixar's output, but there are also certain elements that feel almost unsuitable for children. While the horror scenes can clearly be identified as parody to an adult audience, they could easily scare the little ones. Additionally, there's a genuinely traumatic sequence of existential peril (pictured), a scene that draws the viewer in with its immense realism, which is no mean feat considering it's a movie about talking toys. Then, of course, there's the good old Pixar heartstring-pulling at the end, which is sure to go over the kids' heads.
Ultimately, though, despite the more mature tone, Toy Story 3 remains at its heart a family film, full of wholesome entertainment and barrels of laughs for the kids. And they pulled out all the stops when it comes to the cast. Along with the regular funny voices of Hanks, Allen, Ratzenberger, Rickles, Shawn, Cusack and Harris, we are now introduced to Jodi Benson (the voice of Ariel in The Little Mermaid) as Barbie and Michael Keaton as Ken. Ned Beatty is brilliant as the evil Lotso. Plus, in smaller roles, we are treated to the comedy stylings of Jeff Garlin, Kristen Schaal, Richard Kind and Whoopi Goldberg. It's quite the stacked ensemble.
Before I left Sydney, I watched the next nominee in 2010's Best Picture race...
Toy Story 3
Director:
Lee Unkrich
Screenplay:
Michael Arndt, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich
Starring:
Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Don Rickles, Wallace Shawn, John Ratzenberger, Estelle Harris, Ned Beatty, Michael Keaton, Jodi Benson, John Morris, Laurie Metcalf
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
2 wins, for Best Animated Feature and Best Original Song
With Andy (Morris) heading off to college, all his old toys, except for Woody (Hanks), assume they are to be thrown away. Despite Woody's attempts to convince them otherwise, the other toys sneak into a donation box bound for Sunnyside Daycare, where they dream of being played with by many different children. Reality soon sets in, though, as the toys experience the chaos that is toddler playtime while also having to deal with Sunnyside's de facto leader, a villainous teddy bear named Lotso (Beatty), who kidnaps Buzz Lightyear (Allen) and resets him to factory settings.
In preparation for watching Toy Story 3, I rewatched the first two films in the series, and similar themes popped up each time. In all three stories, the predominant driver of the plot is that Woody is afraid that Andy doesn't want to play with him anymore. In the first one, he thinks Buzz is going to replace him. In the second one, he worries that Andy is getting too old to play with any of his toys. And in this one, there's a genuine fear that all the toys are going to be thrown out altogether. Toy Story 2 and 3 also share a similar antagonist: an older authority figure who appears sweet at first, but turns out to be evil. Despite the similarities, this third instalment is more intricate than the first two, which were relatively straightforward. The series seemingly matures along with Andy.
Speaking of maturity, not only does Toy Story 3 contain the usual jokes aimed exclusively at the grownups, a signature of Pixar's output, but there are also certain elements that feel almost unsuitable for children. While the horror scenes can clearly be identified as parody to an adult audience, they could easily scare the little ones. Additionally, there's a genuinely traumatic sequence of existential peril (pictured), a scene that draws the viewer in with its immense realism, which is no mean feat considering it's a movie about talking toys. Then, of course, there's the good old Pixar heartstring-pulling at the end, which is sure to go over the kids' heads.
Ultimately, though, despite the more mature tone, Toy Story 3 remains at its heart a family film, full of wholesome entertainment and barrels of laughs for the kids. And they pulled out all the stops when it comes to the cast. Along with the regular funny voices of Hanks, Allen, Ratzenberger, Rickles, Shawn, Cusack and Harris, we are now introduced to Jodi Benson (the voice of Ariel in The Little Mermaid) as Barbie and Michael Keaton as Ken. Ned Beatty is brilliant as the evil Lotso. Plus, in smaller roles, we are treated to the comedy stylings of Jeff Garlin, Kristen Schaal, Richard Kind and Whoopi Goldberg. It's quite the stacked ensemble.
Tuesday, September 3, 2024
2010 - 127 Hours
Awards season is fast approaching, but as yet, there doesn't seem to be a great deal of buzz around any of the films that have already been released. By this time last year, we had already experienced the phenomenon that was Barbenheimer. This year, however, there's Dune Part 2, which will likely pick up several Oscar nominations and maybe one for Best Picture, like its predecessor, but it seems much less likely that it will actually win. Another sequel, Inside Out 2, might enjoy the rare achievement of an animated film finding itself in the Best Picture race, but again, it's certainly no front runner for the top prize. Other potential contenders are Civil War and Challengers, which also seem poised to get some acting nominations perhaps. In any case, still to come are plenty of Oscar bait movies attempting to garner buzz, including some more sequels of previous Best Picture nominees (Joker: Folie à Deux and Gladiator 2). There's also an upcoming film from Oscar royalty, Francis Ford Coppola's Megalopolis, which surprisingly seems to have very muted anticipation from awards prognosticators, despite its pedigree. But we shall just have to wait and see which films emerge as serious contenders over the next few months.
Meanwhile, let's begin our trek through 2010's Best Picture contest with...
127 Hours
Director:
Danny Boyle
Screenplay:
Danny Boyle & Simon Beaufoy
(based on the book "Between a Rock and a Hard Place" by Aron Ralston)
Starring:
James Franco, Kate Mara, Amber Tamblyn, Clémence Poésy, Lizzy Caplan, Kate Burton, Treat Williams
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
0 wins
In real life, we all read about canyoneer Aron Ralston's harrowing ordeal. He was trapped by a boulder, alone for five days, eventually amputating his own right arm in order to escape. Since it was headline news, spoilers were aplenty before this film was even released, so I'll assume, dear reader, that there's no need for me to be coy about the film's final moments.
The film begins as Aron (Franco) hastily prepares for a hike in the canyons of Utah, failing to notify anyone of where he's going. On his travels, he encounters two women (Mara & Tamblyn) and explores the area with them for several hours before they go their separate ways. Alone again, Aron ventures into a more isolated area, and as he continues climbing, a large rock gives way underneath him, causing him to fall. As he recovers, it becomes clear that the falling rock has trapped his arm against the canyon wall. Unable to dislodge the boulder, Aron uses his ingenuity and the minimal supplies in his backpack to explore different ways of escape. Rationing his limited food and water, he records several video diary entries on his camcorder before eventually succumbing to the inevitable conclusion that if he can't remove the rock, he'll have to remove his arm.
As is evident in that synopsis, 127 Hours spends a large proportion of its running time tracking a solitary character in a very confined space. That may sound dull and tedious, yet in practice, it's absolutely captivating on account of the solid direction by Danny Boyle, as well as an inventive script that includes some flashbacks and hallucinations. Similarly, since we know this is a story about a man who eventually cuts his own arm off, one might expect that prior knowledge to undermine any potential tension, but in fact, I became so emotionally invested in Aron's plight that, every time he attempts to shift that boulder, I found myself genuinely hoping he would succeed, despite knowing that he obviously wouldn't. And all those screenwriting gurus that tell you that you absolutely have to personify your antagonist - well, in this movie, the antagonist is literally a rock. It's a great example of how flouting conventions can sometimes reap dividends.
Carrying the movie (on his own for most of it) is James Franco (pictured), who is perfectly cast. He instils Aron with a cavalier sense of adventure but the wherewithal to survive adversity, a perfect balance of humour and sobriety. Franco also portrays Aron's anguish with heart-wrenching aptitude - both the emotional anguish on display when he records what he thinks is his final video message to his family, and also the physical anguish during the amputation sequence, which, I might add, is most definitely not for the squeamish.
Franco scored his only Oscar nomination to date for this role. The film also garnered five other nominations, including for its remarkable screenplay, but went home empty-handed on Oscar night.
Meanwhile, let's begin our trek through 2010's Best Picture contest with...
127 Hours
Director:
Danny Boyle
Screenplay:
Danny Boyle & Simon Beaufoy
(based on the book "Between a Rock and a Hard Place" by Aron Ralston)
Starring:
James Franco, Kate Mara, Amber Tamblyn, Clémence Poésy, Lizzy Caplan, Kate Burton, Treat Williams
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
0 wins
In real life, we all read about canyoneer Aron Ralston's harrowing ordeal. He was trapped by a boulder, alone for five days, eventually amputating his own right arm in order to escape. Since it was headline news, spoilers were aplenty before this film was even released, so I'll assume, dear reader, that there's no need for me to be coy about the film's final moments.
The film begins as Aron (Franco) hastily prepares for a hike in the canyons of Utah, failing to notify anyone of where he's going. On his travels, he encounters two women (Mara & Tamblyn) and explores the area with them for several hours before they go their separate ways. Alone again, Aron ventures into a more isolated area, and as he continues climbing, a large rock gives way underneath him, causing him to fall. As he recovers, it becomes clear that the falling rock has trapped his arm against the canyon wall. Unable to dislodge the boulder, Aron uses his ingenuity and the minimal supplies in his backpack to explore different ways of escape. Rationing his limited food and water, he records several video diary entries on his camcorder before eventually succumbing to the inevitable conclusion that if he can't remove the rock, he'll have to remove his arm.
As is evident in that synopsis, 127 Hours spends a large proportion of its running time tracking a solitary character in a very confined space. That may sound dull and tedious, yet in practice, it's absolutely captivating on account of the solid direction by Danny Boyle, as well as an inventive script that includes some flashbacks and hallucinations. Similarly, since we know this is a story about a man who eventually cuts his own arm off, one might expect that prior knowledge to undermine any potential tension, but in fact, I became so emotionally invested in Aron's plight that, every time he attempts to shift that boulder, I found myself genuinely hoping he would succeed, despite knowing that he obviously wouldn't. And all those screenwriting gurus that tell you that you absolutely have to personify your antagonist - well, in this movie, the antagonist is literally a rock. It's a great example of how flouting conventions can sometimes reap dividends.
Carrying the movie (on his own for most of it) is James Franco (pictured), who is perfectly cast. He instils Aron with a cavalier sense of adventure but the wherewithal to survive adversity, a perfect balance of humour and sobriety. Franco also portrays Aron's anguish with heart-wrenching aptitude - both the emotional anguish on display when he records what he thinks is his final video message to his family, and also the physical anguish during the amputation sequence, which, I might add, is most definitely not for the squeamish.
Franco scored his only Oscar nomination to date for this role. The film also garnered five other nominations, including for its remarkable screenplay, but went home empty-handed on Oscar night.
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