1950 - Sunset Boulevard

Last week, I accompanied Kat and her parents, who are in town visiting, to take in a Broadway show. We chose A Little Night Music, starring Catherine Zeta-Jones and Angela Lansbury. One of them was making her Broadway debut. The other decidedly was not. Five-time Tony Award winner Lansbury (whose screen debut, incidentally, has already featured in this project) was an absolute delight to watch. Although all her stage time was in a wheelchair, she was spirited and sprightly, bounding out of the chair for her curtain call. Not bad for an 84-year-old. I can only hope I am as prolific at her age.

You can now vote for the next year of review for Matt vs. the Academy by selecting one of the options in the poll on the right.

Meanwhile, we begin taking a look at the Academy's contenders for Best Picture in 1950, starting with...

Sunset Boulevard

Director:

Billy Wilder

Screenplay:

Charles Brackett, Billy Wilder & D.M. Marshman, Jr.

Starring:

William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich von Stroheim, Nancy Olson

Academy Awards:

11 nominations

3 wins, including Best Writing, Story & Screenplay

A classic amongst classics, Sunset Boulevard tells the tragic tale of down-and-out screenwriter Joe Gillis (Holden), who reluctantly accepts a writing assignment from fading silent film star Norma Desmond (Swanson). Norma is desperate to make her return to the big screen in an adaptation of Salomé, once Joe has fixed up her poorly written first draft. In return, she provides him with a room to stay in, a wardrobe full of expensive suits and all the champagne and caviar a man could ever want. Joe becomes the definition of a kept man, and as Norma's delusions grow, so too does Joe's desire to escape from her confining clutches.

Joe serves as the narrator for the film and, in the opening scene, he introduces us to his own bullet-ridden body floating face down in a swimming pool. We then flashback to several months earlier as Joe narrates the story of how he came to such a violent end. Interestingly, when I first saw Sunset Boulevard - on late-night television many years ago - I missed this opening scene, understandably resulting in a somewhat different viewing experience. Seeing Joe's murder at the end of the picture was quite a shock, to say the least. I mean, how was he narrating if he was dead? (American Beauty had not yet been released.) Anyway, I learnt my lesson and so began my near obsessive habit of refusing to watch a movie unless I see it from the very beginning.

On the subject of Joe's narration, it would be easy to criticise the film for having too much of this film noir device. At times, the narration seems to stretch on for pages and pages, linking scenes and just being generally expository. But it also has an oddly engrossing effect. By constantly hearing Joe's voice, we get the eerie feeling that we are experiencing the whole story right there alongside Joe himself. Undoubtedly, this quality is in large part attributable to the sharp script.

Now a cinematic icon, the character of Norma Desmond is a fascinating study. Gloria Swanson (pictured), herself a silent film star, portrays Norma with such wide-eyed melodrama that it is abundantly clear why Swanson never quite made the transition to talkies. As Swanson gets more and more histrionic, Norma seems more and more crazy. Therein lies the genius of the casting.

William Holden is also perfectly cast as the smart and decent man in a desperate situation. Erich von Stroheim is just shy of creepy as Norma's stoic butler, Max, who is rather complicit in Norma's deterioration - after all, when Norma finally gets her close-up, it is Max who is her director again. I also enjoyed Nancy Olson's performance as the sweet but determined script reader, Betty. A handful of cameos litter the film, too. Famed director Cecil B. DeMille is more than competent in front of the camera as well. And look out for Buster Keaton, also playing himself.

Best Picture of 1975

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

The nominees for Best Picture of 1975 are:

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

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

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

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

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

Your choice:

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

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1950 are:

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

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

1975 - One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

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

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

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

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

Director:

Milos Forman

Screenplay:

Lawrence Hauben & Bo Goldman

(based on the novel by Ken Kesey)

Starring:

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

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

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

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

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

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

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

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

1975 - Barry Lyndon

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

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

Barry Lyndon

Director:

Stanley Kubrick

Screenplay:

Stanley Kubrick

(based on the novel by William Makepeace Thackeray)

Starring:

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

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

4 wins, including Best Cinematography

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

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

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

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

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

1975 - Dog Day Afternoon

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

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

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

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

Dog Day Afternoon

Director:

Sidney Lumet

Screenplay:

Frank Pierson

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

Starring:

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

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

1 win, for Best Original Screenplay

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

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

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

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

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

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