2001 - Moulin Rouge

Living in New York, there are plenty of tough working class men around, so I expect to be witness to the odd spitting-in-the-street incident now and then. Today, however, I experienced something I never expected. As I walked through the streets of Astoria, I passed a short middle-aged Chinese lady who hocked a loogie right in front of me. Granted, her somewhat dainty action produced a less thick and globular result than the one from the man I passed on the previous block, but still, that's not something you see every day.

On that rather repugnant note, let's move on to the first Best Picture nomination from 2001...

Moulin Rouge

Director:

Baz Luhrmann

Screenplay:

Baz Luhrmann & Craig Pearce

Starring:

Nicole Kidman, Ewan McGregor, John Leguizamo, Jim Broadbent, Richard Roxburgh

Academy Awards:

8 nominations

2 wins, for Best Art Direction and Best Costume Design

Visually stunning and musically anachronistic, Moulin Rouge self-confesses to be, above all things, a story about love. Christian is an English writer who moves to turn-of-the-20th-century Paris to mix with the Bohemian crowd. He quickly becomes involved in the exciting underworld of the hottest nightspot in town, the Moulin Rouge. It is here that he meets the star of the show, Satine, who also happens to be a courtesan (which is really just Bohemian for 'prostitute'). The two fall in love but when the fate of the Moulin Rouge is left in the hands of the Duke, who also fancies Satine, the lovers find themselves struggling to stay together.

I've never known quite what to make of Moulin Rouge. It's certainly unique in its extravagance and it is one hell of a spectacle. However, I suppose the simple fact of the matter is that it's just not my type of movie. Part music video, part cartoon, part acid trip, I just found it exhausting. The story is simple enough, but each scene moves at such a breakneck speed with such farcical exaggeration that, for the vast majority of the film, I couldn't help thinking all the bells and whistles were just disguising the lack of emotional content. But that's probably a bit unfair. The second half of the film engaged me much more with several touching scenes, which I believe can be attributed to its slower sensibility. Once I could take a breath and allow myself to feel something for the characters rather than the visual spectacle, it became more palatable. Still, the Looney Tunes sound effects and MTV editing were waiting in the wings to snap me back into non-reality.

Having said all that, there is no doubt that Moulin Rouge is entertainment, pure and simple. The design elements alone are enough to elicit oohs and aahs, so it's no wonder the two Oscars that the film won were for its sets and costumes. On top of that, the music throughout the extravaganza is positively extraordinary with its deliberately anachronistic use of pop and rock'n'roll - everything from Nat King Cole to Nirvana. There's an inspired tango version of The Police's Roxanne, plus a strange male duet rendition of Madonna's Like a Virgin. And since it's a musical, we accept a world in which people break into song, so the fact that the songs are of a different time period doesn't really affect its plausibility. Although, the moon singing opera is perhaps stretching it. Yes, that's right. The moon. Singing opera. Larger than life is putting it mildly.

A rare Best Picture nomination for an Australian film (Babe is the only other one I can think of, off the top of my head), Moulin Rouge features a host of well-known Aussie names. Well, they're well-known in Australia, at any rate. Garry McDonald, Jacek Koman, Kerry Walker, David Wenham, to name a few. And our beloved Kylie Minogue briefly appears as the Green Fairy. Richard Roxburgh particularly stands out as the Duke. Jim Broadbent, not from Down Under, is also wonderful as the owner of the cabaret. As for John Leguizamo as Toulouse-Lautrec, I just couldn't get past his ridiculous speech impediment.

And can someone please teach Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor how to pronounce "Moulin Rouge"?

The 1952 Best Picture shortlist also contains a film with the title Moulin Rouge, unrelated to this story. Let's see if that one manages to tickle my fancy any more.

Best Picture of 1976

Time again to deliver my verdict. This time, you will also have a chance to make your voice heard. Below my assessment of the contest is a poll in which you can vote for your favourite from 1976's crop of Best Picture nominees.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1976 are:

All the President's Men

Bound for Glory

Network

Rocky

Taxi Driver

Four of these nominees have stood the fabled test of time, each holding quite an important place in film history. The fifth, Bound for Glory, while an impressive film in its own right, clearly has a smaller stature. At the risk of seeming like a pompous film connoisseur, I tend to concur with history's interpretation. Thus, it is a relatively easy decision to knock it out of the running.

So that leaves four very well crafted and affecting films. Not an easy task to separate them. But you know I'm about to do just that, so I guess it wasn't that difficult. There are definitely two that I enjoyed more than the other two. Rocky, the Academy's choice, is certainly inspirational, but its lapses into melodrama, albeit infrequent, are enough to remove it from my list also. Similarly, Network, with its heavily satirical tone, will not be walking away with my blue ribbon due to its brief forays away from naturalism, something the final two nominees have in spades.

Taxi Driver and All the President's Men, although very different cinema experiences, share a brilliantly captivating use of realism. Either would be worthy, in my opinion, of taking the top prize. However, I must be brutal, so because it manages to make even the most extraordinary events believable and enthralling, Taxi Driver will be named my favourite of the 1976 nominees.

Best Picture of 1976
Academy's choice: Rocky	Matt's choice: Taxi Driver

Your choice:

Don't forget to vote for your favourite. See how you all compare with my decision. For our next journey into Best Picture land, we're moving a little closer to the present as I take a look at the year 2001. There are only a small number of films whose sequels were also nominated for Best Picture and it would be nice to be able to view them in the right order. Hence, I'll begin the Lord of the Rings trilogy now and get to the nominees from 2002 and 2003 later on. A similar strategy shall be employed for the Godfather films.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 2001 are:

A Beautiful Mind

Gosford Park

In the Bedroom

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Moulin Rouge

Check back soon as we visit the 21st century for the first time...

1976 - Network

After four months in the city, I have finally landed my first theatrical role. My New York stage debut will be in the York Shakespeare Company's upcoming production of The Merchant of Venice, performed in repertory with Christopher Marlowe's The Jew of Malta in November and December. So, while Jude Law is playing Hamlet down the road on Broadway, I will be playing Solanio in Merchant and Ferneze in Malta, and I'm very much looking forward to treading the boards again, especially in the Big Apple. I've always had an interest in Shakespeare, which began in high school, I think, when during our studies of Othello, the teacher allowed me to read the part of Iago, which remains my dream role to this day. Then, watching Olivier's Hamlet solidified that interest and I now look forward to the handful of Shakespeare adaptations that this project will throw my way.

Today, I viewed the last of the 1976 nominees...

Network

Director:

Sidney Lumet

Screenplay:

Paddy Chayefsky

Starring:

Faye Dunaway, William Holden, Peter Finch, Robert Duvall, Ned Beatty, Beatrice Straight

Academy Awards:

10 nominations

4 wins, for Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actress and Best Original Screenplay

About as scathing as satire gets, Network explores what happens when television executives take control of reality. With the lowest rating news program in the country, the network heads at UBS give long-time news anchor Howard Beale his walking papers. The next night, Mr. Beale announces live on air that, during his final show next week, he will commit suicide on national television. Inevitably, the ratings skyrocket, and before he has a chance to end his life, the brains behind UBS exploit Beale's deteriorating mental state by substituting traditional news programming with a hyped-up variety-style show with Beale's insane ravings as the headlining act. Each episode, Beale's rants conclude with him collapsing on the stage from some kind of mental exhaustion whilst the audience applauds with enthusiasm. Soon, the entertainment division of the network, led by the cold-hearted Diana Christensen, has completely taken over the news department, developing all sorts of morally decrepit programs.

He couldn't have realised it at the time, but Paddy Chayefsky's much lauded script is probably more accurate now than it was in 1976. In fact, considering the current slate of sensationalist programming, it may be fair to say that the TV industry's integrity has declined quite a bit since then. Mind you, as discussed last week, there is also a large number of very clever and thoughtfully entertaining shows on air, so it goes both ways, I guess. Nonetheless, I would love to have seen Chayefsky's reaction to shows such as Jerry Springer and The Biggest Loser and World's Wildest Police Videos and the seemingly endless array of Judge Judy rip-offs. The exploitative nature of these manipulated reality shows is exactly what he was writing about. Not to mention the tabloid journalism passed off as news and current affairs on some networks. It's all about the ratings and the truth just gets in the way.

At times, though, the satire within Network plays out a little too cartoonish and unbelievable. That might be due to my direct comparison with the brilliant naturalism found in the two previous films in this project, namely Taxi Driver and All the President's Men, but I still feel that Network could have benefited from a little more subtlety. It's certainly a preachy film, and it doesn't let the general public off the hook, either. They're just as accountable as the network heads. They're the ones watching all this crap.

Despite its moralising, the drama is still very gripping. The events of the snowballing story unfold in such a captivating way that you often think it couldn't get any more crazy ... and then it does. Right up to the very end. The final scene (skip to the next paragraph if you don't want to know how it ends) displays the ultimate exploitation. The network has terrorists kill Beale live on air and, as his body slumps to the ground, instead of a chaotic scene of TV crew members scrambling for cover, the main studio camera simply rolls closer to the bleeding mess in order to capture the perfect close-up.

Despite a spectacular year of acting performances, the cast of Network managed to secure five acting Oscar nominations, winning three of them. Peter Finch won his posthumously, and his famous "I'm as mad as hell" speech is particularly inspired. And as implausible as his character may seem, he's really only one step away from Bill O'Reilly and some of his colleagues. Faye Dunaway gave the standout performance, in my opinion, as the wonderfully arrogant yet ultimately insecure head of the entertainment division, who seems to be sexually aroused by high ratings. Finally, Ned Beatty appears in his second 1976 Best Picture nominee (along with All the President's Men) delivering an almost evangelical tirade.

So, another year down. The verdict for 1976 is up next...

1976 - All the President's Men

After over a month of inspiration from the films taking part in this project, last night the torch was passed over to the theatre world. I had the pleasure of seeing God of Carnage on Broadway. A wonderful experience and I highly recommend it. It stars Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, James Gandolfini and Marcia Gay Harden - what a cast, right? And not that I want to ruin it for anyone, but I feel compelled to mention that the play includes a very realistic vomiting scene. But don't let that put you off. It's not all about vomit.

Today, the torch was passed back to filmdom when I watched the next 1976 Best Picture nominee...

All the President's Men

Director:

Alan J. Pakula

Screenplay:

William Goldman

(based on the book by Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein)

Starring:

Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford, Jack Warden, Martin Balsam, Hal Holbrook, Jason Robards, Jane Alexander

Academy Awards:

8 nominations

4 wins, including Best Supporting Actor, Best Adapted Screenplay

More a detective story than a journalist's tale, All the President's Men follows what may well be the most famous account of investigative journalism in history. Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein are reporters for the Washington Post who all but beg to be assigned to cover the aftermath of the break-in at the Watergate hotel. They follow the intricate trail wherever it leads with the assistance of Woodward's secret source on the inside, unkindly nicknamed Deep Throat. The determined pair wind up uncovering a massive conspiracy of political sabotage that reaches higher than even they imagined.

I imagine that, since this film was released so soon after the actual events occurred, audiences of that time must have felt a closer affinity to the subject matter. However, even watching it more than thirty years on and having seen it several times before, it still remains as riveting as ever. And what's most fascinating is that it achieves this in such a subtle manner. There are no action scenes or special effects, just good old fashioned drama. Granted, if you know all the details of the Watergate scandal, you may find the mystery a little less ... well, mysterious. But you would have to know all the details, because the trail that Woodward and Bernstein follow in the course of the story is pretty darn complex. So much so that you really can't afford to let your mind wander for a second or you might get lost.

The pace of the film is a little difficult to describe. Since there are no car chases or fight sequences, you could be forgiven for thinking it slow, but the story is constantly zooming forward as our heroes go from lead to lead that it's almost akin to an action movie. It's as if the film is slow and fast at the same time. Quite a sensation. All the while, it keeps a strong hold of your attention. Similar to Taxi Driver, All the President's Men includes some can't-look-away moments, but for completely different reasons. Rather than being mesmerised by a fascinating character, here we are drawn to the incredible story unravelling in front of us. One scene presents Woodward on the phone attempting to get a source to confirm some incriminating information. Sounds basic enough, but the camera remains on him for several minutes throughout the tense call, never cutting away.

That intensity is heightened by the cleverly sparing use of music throughout the film. In certain scenes, the score gives way to the natural sounds of the environment, which most often is the tapping of typewriter keys, a noise that just sounds like something important is going on. And when the score is heard, it is so magnificently ominous.

As if William Goldman's script wasn't wonderfully subtle enough, the general performance style of the cast in this film is divine. Every single actor, from the two leads right down to the bit parts, produces an amazingly natural and improvisational tone. Jason Robards as the Post's executive editor Ben Bradlee is particularly impressive and I guess Academy members thought so, too, because they gave him the first of his back-to-back Oscars for it.

There is also an array of not-yet-known celebrities in tiny roles - F. Murray Abraham as one of the cops who was first on the scene of the break-in, 7th Heaven's Stephen Collins as the only seemingly honest man caught up in the fiasco, Family Ties' Meredith Baxter as the wife of that honest man. And Junior Soprano himself, Dominic Chianese, shows up at the beginning of the film as one of the Watergate burglars.

So, just one more to go in the 1976 contest...

1976 - Taxi Driver

As promised, dear readers, I have now added voting polls to each of the verdict posts. So, now you can chime in with your own opinion on the best films of each year. Looking ahead, each poll will begin when I post the verdict for that year, but you can go back to the verdicts that have already been delivered in the project to vote on them, as well. There won't be any closing date for any poll. Currently, you can vote on 1939, 1966 and 1992.

I have started off each poll with two votes - one to represent my favourite and one to represent the Academy's choice for Best Picture. Let's see how much agreement there is amongst my readership. And don't feel like you can't vote if you haven't seen all the nominees. As I mentioned previously, Academy members have no such restriction on their voting rights, so there's certainly no reason to feel that these polls should be any different. Vote away!

To completely digress for a second, I used to own the project's next film on VHS many years ago. Before I got around to watching it, I loaned it to a friend who was writing some kind of university paper on film. I promptly forgot all about it and, years later, I lost touch with the friend. Fortunately, a new technological age began, so I purchased the film again, this time on DVD. Once again, before I managed to sit down to watch it, I loaned it to a different friend, and the whole scenario repeated itself. I was beginning to think I was fated to never see this film again. I estimate it's probably been at least fifteen years since I last saw it and, thanks to Netflix, I managed to view it this morning.

The film in question is, of course, the modern classic from the 1976 Best Picture race...

Taxi Driver

Director:

Martin Scorsese

Screenplay:

Paul Schrader

Starring:

Robert De Niro, Jodie Foster, Albert Brooks, Harvey Keitel, Leonard Harris, Peter Boyle, Cybill Shepherd

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

0 wins

Travis Bickle is one of those iconic cinematic characters that only comes around once in a generation. He's a lonely cab driver working the night shift in New York City, disgusted by the low-life scum that troll the streets during those dark hours. Upon spying the beautiful Betsy, a campaign volunteer for a Presidential hopeful, Bickle becomes a little obsessed. Somehow, he manages to keep his creepiness at bay just long enough to convince Betsy to grab a coffee with him and, surprisingly, he's at least charming enough for her to agree to go on a second date. Unfortunately, Bickle's cluelessness leads to him taking her to an X-rated movie, during which she storms out. After all his attempts at reconciliation are rejected, his depressed thoughts deteriorate into violent thoughts and, after illegally purchasing several firearms, he transfers his attention to saving a pre-teen prostitute named Iris from her dead-beat pimp with severely violent consequences.

There is so much atmosphere in Taxi Driver. All the elements of film making come together to create such a deliciously seedy mood and it really draws you in. At first, I was a little distracted by some of Scorsese's strange choices. He definitely likes to be interesting with his shot selection. But there's just something so hypnotic about the result that it's almost like a dream. There are several sequences in which my eyes were glued to the screen not because of any conventional suspense, just because it was indescribably fascinating. Bickle is watching a soap opera on his television set that sits atop a small rickety table. He puts his foot up against the screen and slowly pushes the television back. The camera stays with him for several moments as he deliberately rocks the set back and forth ever so gently. Nothing particularly suspenseful about that but, for some reason, I was transfixed. Only when the television eventually succumbs to gravity and crashes to the floor, exploding in an electrical mess, was I jolted out of my spell.

Bernard Hermann's terrifically sinister score is a perfect addition to the film. The composer, probably most famous for his frequent collaboration with Alfred Hitchcock, including the famous violin shrieks from Psycho, highlights the sleaziness of 1970s New York at night, and, in particular, Bickle's creepiness. Coupled with the softly spoken narration, it cements this film as a brilliant example of modern film noir.

And what can you say about Robert De Niro that would do this performance justice? The consummate professional, De Niro spent time working as a night cabbie to get into his role. And whether you agree with that kind of Method acting preparation or not, it's hard to deny that De Niro's portrayal is extraordinary. He begins the film creepy, but he just gets creepier and creepier as the story progresses, furthering himself from society before mentally unravelling completely. It's such a well structured performance with all the nuances of character you would expect from someone with his reputation. You see, underneath it all, Travis Bickle is really just an innocent guy who wants to help people. He just doesn't understand how. And in De Niro's hands, you almost pity him, because you begin to comprehend that he genuinely doesn't realise that taking a date to a porn movie is a bad idea.

Scorsese himself shows up in a cameo as a bitter and threatening cab passenger who spies on his wife's affair. There is a fantastic naturalism to Scorsese's performance. He really should get in front of the camera more often. Also worthy of a mention is Harvey Keitel as the pimp, showing us why he has become such a legendary player of gritty and seedy characters.

So, I think there's no doubt in my mind that Taxi Driver is leading the 1976 race at the moment with just two movies to go. But my mind shall remain open, for the next two films are certainly nothing to shake a stick at.