1927/28 - Wings

Awards season is in full swing now with the Golden Globe nominations announced on Tuesday and the SAG nominees announced this morning, plus several critics associations releasing their picks of the year as well. And as is often the case, there are several names that keep popping up. I love awards season (as this project probably indicates) but I find this early part of the season particularly fascinating - watching the favourites emerge. There is always buzz around certain films and actors, but until the announcements are announced and the press releases released, it really is just conjecture. But now that the honouring has begun, the ultimate guessing game - that of the Oscar winners - becomes much more interesting. I had considered prematurely offering my Oscar predictions here and now, but after a decent amount of deliberation, I can simply not pick a front-runner for any category as of yet. Perhaps over the next few weeks, as I see more of the contenders, I'll share my thoughts on each of the major categories.

For now, however, I'll stick to the past and comment on the final Best Picture nominee from Oscar's inaugural year...

Wings

Director:

William A. Wellman

Screenplay:

John Monk Saunders, Hope Loring & Louis D. Lighton

Starring:

Clara Bow, Charles Rogers, Richard Arlen

Academy Awards:

2 nominations

2 wins, including Best Picture

Another classic from the silent era, Wings follows Jack Powell (Rogers) and David Armstrong (Arlen) as they enlist in the American Air Service in World War I. They begin as bitter rivals, both in love with the same woman. Jack mistakenly believes his love is requited, consequently ignoring advances from an actual admirer, the sweet Mary Preston (Bow). Once enlisted, however, the rivalry quickly turns to lasting friendship as the two fighter pilots battle alongside each other in daring feats of air combat.

Wings begins with a touch of pantomime. But most silent films lean in that direction, so I can let that one go. Besides, once the spectacular war scenes begin, all the ham acting of silent film stars is easily forgotten. I recently expressed my admiration of 7th Heaven's battle scenes, but Wings completely blows them away. The aerial action in this picture is simply phenomenal, comparable to anything you might see in a modern flick. In fact, if they had today's technology, they probably wouldn't have been so authentic. The flying is real. The crashes are real. The exploding blimps are real. There is even a jaw-dropping scene in which we see real missiles explode on a town, all from the point of view of the plane dropping the bombs. The whole thing is made all the more impressive when you discover that Rogers and Arlen piloted planes themselves for all their close-ups.

Along with the standard dialogue titles, there are also a large number of narration titles, creating a sort of storybook feel to the picture, which at first just seems a little childish. In particular, the narration during the first aerial battle is somewhat reminiscent of sports commentary. Nonetheless, once the story has you hooked, it is actually quite effective. There are also some fancy superimposing tricks that brighten up that boring white text on a black background. Plus, we are treated to some cool bubble effects during Jack's drunken stupor.

Watch out for Gary Cooper in one of his first credited roles as a flying ace who fatefully scoffs at good luck charms. And being a pre-Code film, Clara Bow (pictured) is able to offer some mild titillation to her fans by showing a little skin, an image that somehow always seems out of place in old movies.

1927/28 - 7th Heaven

Dear Commuter,

I understand that you are in a rush to get home or to your girlfriend's place or to the bar. I fully appreciate that you have been waiting on the platform for a good five and a half minutes before this train arrived. I even empathise with you for the cold temperature you must endure in this badly ventilated subway. But is it not possible to step aside for three more seconds to allow me to exit the carriage before you elbow your way inside? Must I squeeze between you and your fellow impatient commuters in order to avoid the avalanche of limbs? Is it really that important that you are the first one to board? I mean, the train is not going to leave without you. In fact, if you made way for the exiting passengers, we would be out of your way a lot sooner. Instead, you force us to file out one at a time, allowing the possibility for the weakest among us to be caught up in your stampede and fail to exit altogether. Poor thing.

Humbly yours,

An Exiting Passenger

Last night, I watched the silent classic and nominee for Best Picture of 1927/28...

7th Heaven

Director:

Frank Borzage

Screenplay:

Benjamin Glazer

(based on the play by Austin Strong)

Starring:

Janet Gaynor, Charles Farrell, Ben Bard, Albert Gran, David Butler

Academy Awards:

5 nominations

3 wins, including Best Director and Best Actress

Chico (Farrell) is a poor Parisian sewer worker who dreams of a better life. For some reason, his heart is set on becoming a street washer, which I guess is one step up from the sewers, so who am I to argue? Diane (Gaynor) is a poor Parisian prostitute who dreams of a life without her abusive big sister. One day, as Diane endures yet another beating, Chico intervenes to help her. Then, when the cops begin rounding up all the prostitutes and taking them away, Chico once again saves the day by claiming that Diane is his wife. In order to keep up the ruse, Chico reluctantly allows Diane to live with him and, like all good romance stories, the fake love slowly grows into genuine affection. However, World War I forces them apart again as Chico is called into the French army. Despite their separation, they maintain a strong connection as they wait to be reunited.

7th Heaven almost defies categorisation since it borrows from several genres. Mostly, it is a drama, but there are a few slapstick comedy sequences thrown in for good measure, and later, once the war has begun, it becomes an epic special effects-laden action flick. At its heart, though, it is a love story, plain and simple. Our two protagonists have struggled in their lives and they learn from each other how to improve themselves. Diane learns the art of optimism and Chico finally abandons his atheism. Yes, these messages of faith and confidence are somewhat shallow, especially the religious elements, but the film is just so darn cute that it somehow gets away with it.

The war sequence is particularly engrossing and it seems no expense was spared in the production of those scenes. Even by today's standards, the explosions and voluminous extras are quite spectacular. It even took me a while to figure out the hundreds of cars driving towards the front were only models.

A large part of the film's aforementioned cuteness is thanks to Janet Gaynor, who is simply adorable as the meek and innocent Diane. As almost everyone around her succumbs to the melodramatic emoting that is fairly standard for the silent era, she manages to remain subtle, making smart use of stillness. Also worth noting is Albert Gran, who creates a wonderfully endearing comedic character.

1927/28 - The Racket

New York is cold! As I write this, it is slightly below zero outside. That's zero degrees Celcius, although it might as well be zero degrees Fahrenheit. In fact, taking into account the wind chill factor, it's probably zero degrees Kelvin. It's not snowing tonight, but New York experienced its first snow of the season a few days ago, which looked marvelously romantic as I watched it float delicately against the bright neon lights of 42nd Street ... until I stepped outside, when it immediately lost all its romance by smacking me in the face, melting on my nose and dribbling down the back of my neck. Conclusion: snow is better experienced from indoors.

Today, I rugged up and watched one of the original Best Picture nominees from Oscar's freshman outing...

The Racket

Director:

Lewis Milestone

Screenplay:

Bartlett Cormack

(based on his play)

Starring:

Thomas Meighan, Louis Wolheim, Marie Prevost

Academy Awards:

1 nomination

0 wins

It is perhaps a stroke of fortune that I began this project when I did, because had I embarked on this journey a little over five years ago, the silent gangster film The Racket would have been near impossible to get a hold of. In fact, the picture had been considered lost for decades until a print was uncovered in the vast personal collection of the film's producer, Howard Hughes, leading to a restoration that was eventually completed just a few years ago when it first aired on TCM.

The story begins with organised crime boss Jack Scarsi (Wolheim) attempting to scare incorruptible police captain James McQuigg (Meighan) out of town. McQuigg tries to shut Scarsi and his crew down, but since they own almost everyone in the justice department, McQuigg is thwarted at every turn. Finally fed up with McQuigg's constant badgering, Scarsi orchestrates his transfer to a distant and quiet precinct where he can be no nuisance. But when Scarsi's brother is nabbed for a hit and run in this new precinct, McQuigg uses this as leverage and the tides begin to turn.

Like most people, I don't often watch silent movies and, when I do, it's probably Chaplin or some other slapstick fare. So, I was pleasantly surprised at The Racket's success in holding my attention. More than that, it was genuinely engrossing. Since there is no sound, I shouldn't be surprised that the filmmakers would concentrate on the visuals, but director Lewis Milestone is particularly smart in his use of striking images and evocative framing, foreshadowing many of the film's successors in the crime genre.

The titles delightfully exploit every stereotype of 1920s gangster slang and, while it may not be precisely how they actually spoke, it sure is fun to hear a man call his enemy a "dumb harp" or a "big balloon". It was also especially amusing to see a nightclub singer using a bullhorn. I guess I hadn't contemplated how singers made themselves heard before the advent of microphones. Finally, in a fascinating coincidence, the character played by Marie Prevost goes by the name of Helen Hayes, not to be confused with The First Lady of the American Theatre who would herself win an Oscar only a few years after this film was released.

Best Picture of 1944

Although the nominees from this project's current focus are an enjoyable bunch, the decision to choose my favourite from amongst them has possibly been the easiest to date. Not because the other four are particularly weak, but simply because one film clearly hijacked my brain for a couple of hours ... in a good way.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1944 are:

• Double Indemnity
• Gaslight
• Going My Way
• Since You Went Away
• Wilson

Quite a diverse group. One feel-good musical, one epic melodrama, one political biopic, one classic noir and one noir-ish. As I stated above, there is one clear winner for me, so I will dispense with my usual back and forth. In no particular order, the four non-winners are as follows:

The Academy's pick, Going My Way, is a lovely film that put a smile on my face but nothing more. Wilson is wryly fascinating but occasionally dry. Since You Went Away is striking at times but mostly sappy and overly sentimental. Gaslight has a few elements that are similarly possessed by my favourite, namely the mystery and the noir cinematography. However, the suspense is undermined by the film's predictability making it slightly inferior in my eyes.

Those with decent deductive skills have already figured out which film has taken my first place. Its intrigue and tension combined with its evocative visual style helped it to stand out above the rest in my humble opinion. Therefore, it may now be officially declared that Double Indemnity is my favourite of the Best Picture nominees from 1944.

Best Picture of 1944
Academy's choice: Going My Way	Matt's choice: Double Indemnity

Your choice:

As always, you can vote for your own favourite using the poll above. For the next year of focus, I had considered studying 1971 for the sole reason that the IFC Center here in New York was presenting A Clockwork Orange with midnight screenings this weekend and I figured it might be nice to take this project to the big screen. But, alas, the snowy weather kept me away. That and the fact that my lovely wife loathes the film and the thought of a midnight screening on my own was not so appealing. So, I'll save 1971 for later, and instead go back to where it all began by reviewing the very first Academy Award nominees for Best Picture (or Outstanding Picture as it was known then).

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1927/28 are:

• The Racket
• 7th Heaven
• Wings

A short shortlist, to be sure, but it contains the only silent films to be nominated for the big award, so it will be an interesting week ahead. Stay tuned...

1944 - Going My Way

I've talked previously about the small differences in Australian and American language. Yesterday, however, I came across another difference that has me somewhat baffled. Backstage after my show, I witnessed a cast member grab his fellow performer by the arm, twisting his hands in opposite directions in a display of pretend torture. He referred to the prank as an Indian Burn, which was clearly a term comprehended by everyone in the room. An Indian Burn? In Australia, it is commonly known as a Chinese Burn. How on earth does that happen?

I've also discovered that the popular children's game in which a secret is whispered from one participant to the next down the line is known in the US as Telephone. Back home, we refer to it as Chinese Whispers. Either Australians are racist or the Chinese-American community is very good at damage control.

Today, I completed the Best Picture round of 1944 with...

Going My Way

Director:

Leo McCarey

Screenplay:

Frank Butler and Frank Cavett; story by Leo McCarey

Starring:

Bing Crosby, Barry Fitzgerald, Frank McHugh, Risë Stevens

Academy Awards:

10 nominations

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

Father O'Malley (Crosby) is sent to St. Dominic's parish to help steer the church out of financial trouble. The only catch is the current pastor, Father Fitzgibbon (Fitzgerald), is unaware that he is no longer in charge. The gruff old veteran has been with the church since its construction 45 years ago and, therefore, is not easily accepting of change. In order to raise the funds to clear the church's debt, O'Malley uses his musical talents to form a boys' choir.

Going My Way is a pleasant and charming family film that has 'feel-good' written all over it. Almost everything about the picture exudes a sense of niceness. Nice story. Nice songs. Nice characters. Even the nasty characters turn out to be nice deep down. And so do the wayward characters. Oddly enough, though, I didn't pick up an overly sweet tone from the film. It wasn't over-the-top in its sentimentality at all. It was just ... nice.

The scenes trundle along with only rare moments of excitement. A number of seemingly irrelevant digressions give the rambling storyline a slow feeling. The extremely sparse score may also have something to do with that. Its absence is especially noticeable during the scene transitions. Conversely, the film contains several pleasant songs scattered throughout. No showstoppers, but plenty of songs that are ... nice.

The characters don't burst into song randomly as in a traditional musical, but instead the numbers are naturalistically incorporated into the story. It's sort of a non-musical musical. The film won a Best Song Oscar for Swinging On A Star, which is very cute and, well ... nice.

Director Leo McCarey assembled a very enchanting cast, each amiable for their own reasons. Frank McHugh as the neighbouring priest has a most infectious laugh. Stanley Clements as the young ruffian with a soft side is very entertaining, especially due to his serious face-slapping ability. Jean Heather (who also appeared in another 1944 Best Picture nominee Double Indemnity) as a rebellious teenager turned good is sweet and winsome. William Frawley (a.k.a. Fred Mertz) shows up as a music publisher. And, of course, the great Bing Crosby croons his way delightfully through the film. His naturally genial persona is just so ... nice.

Then there's Barry Fitzgerald as the irascible Father Fitzgibbon. Another delightfully pleasing performance. Incidentally, he is the only person to have been nominated for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor for the same performance. He won the latter, and then the Academy amended the rules so that couldn't happen again. Nice.