1940 - Foreign Correspondent

Life in Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania is quiet. That much is certain. While I enjoy that silence in comparison to the unrelenting noise of New York City, it is accompanied by few options in the way of entertainment. Quiet towns, I guess, are quiet specifically because there is not much going on. Not that I want to discourage people from visiting. I hear there's a very fine playhouse here with a couple of very entertaining shows this summer.

In my down time today, I watched another nominee from 1940's Best Picture shortlist...

Foreign Correspondent

Director:

Alfred Hitchcock

Screenplay:

Charles Bennett, Joan Harrison, James Hilton and Robert Benchley

Starring:

Joel McCrea, Laraine Day, Herbert Marshall, George Sanders, Albert Bassermann, Robert Benchley

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

One of two Alfred Hitchcock films nominated for Best Picture in 1940, Foreign Correspondent begins innocently as a drama about New York Globe reporter Johnny Jones (McCrea), whose fresh assignment as a foreign correspondent is to travel to Europe and get the scoop on the impending war. Under the pen name Huntley Haverstock, our intrepid reporter soon becomes embroiled in political intrigue as he witnesses the murder of Dutch diplomat Van Meer (Bassermann) ... or does he? Haverstock uncovers a kidnapping plot at the heart of a larger conspiracy, but establishing it to those around him proves difficult even with the help of British reporter Scott ffolliott (Sanders), who is not at all concerned about his surname's lack of a capital letter. Somehow, during all this excitement, Haverstock also has time to fall in love with peace activist Carol Fisher (Day).

As Foreign Correspondent begins, there is no indication that this is an Alfred Hitchcock film. The opening prologue, written on screen, glorifies the role of the foreign correspondent, leading the audience to believe the ensuing drama will be a realistic portrayal of the sacrifices made by a man living away from home as he attempts to heroically inform the people of his home country of the most important news abroad. And the first twenty minutes or so of the film do well to maintain this charade. Then, suddenly, almost without warning, there is a cold-blooded public murder and our hero becomes involved in chasing the assassin. Throughout the course of the film, he escapes several attempts on his life, as well as surviving a plane crash. While many real-life foreign correspondents might find themselves in dangerous situations, especially in wartime, I suspect there are precious few who have dealt with these kinds of circumstances.

That is not a complaint, by the way. Hitchcock is well-known for surprising his audience, and the political assassination that sparks off the events of the film is enticingly unexpected. The scenes that immediately follow are classic Hitchcock, full of heart-stopping suspense, but the story disappointingly only allows for a few more sequences with that level of tension and, consequently, the picture drags a little in between these moments. The plot is not as simple as it could be and often includes characters making seemingly unjustifiable decisions. Nonetheless, Hitchcock shines when he is given the opportunity. The plane crash sequence is particularly brilliant.

Despite the story flaws, the dialogue is witty and playful, evidenced by an exchange between Haverstock and ffolliott, in which Haverstock informs the other man of Van Meer's death. ffolliott offers a typically British, "Bad show," to which Haverstock replies, "Couldn't be much worse from his point of view."

Joel McCrea as Haverstock is eager and charming. George Sanders plays the British reporter with his usual caustic brilliance. German actor Albert Bassermann delivers a moving performance as Van Meer that earned him a Best Supporting Actor nomination. Spotting Hitchcock's standard cameo is relatively easy in this one. He's on the street reading a paper (pictured) when Haverstock first notices Van Meer. And if I didn't know any better, I could have sworn that was Danny DeVito as the excitable Latvian.

1940 - The Long Voyage Home

Rehearsals are in full swing here at the Allenberry Playhouse in Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. Fortunately, I have found some free time to continue this silly little project of mine. The poll to decide the next year of review is ready for your input and, considering there are ten nominees in the current year, I suspect you will have plenty of time to vote.

We begin the review of 1940's Best Picture contenders with...

The Long Voyage Home

Director:

John Ford

Screenplay:

Dudley Nichols

(based on the four Glencairn Plays by Eugene O'Neill)

Starring:

John Wayne, Thomas Mitchell, Ian Hunter, Barry Fitzgerald, Wilfrid Lawson, John Qualen, Ward Bond

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

One of two John Ford films nominated for Best Picture in 1940, The Long Voyage Home follows the crew of the freighter SS Glencairn as they sail from the West Indies back home to Mother England with a shipment of explosives that they are secretly transporting to aid in the Allies' war effort. The motley crew consists of an Irish troublemaker (Mitchell), a simple Swedish farmboy (Wayne), a furtive ex-alcoholic (Hunter), a caustic steward (Fitzgerald) and a neurotic teetotaler (Qualen), amongst others. They battle through rough seas and enemy fire and, at one point, suspect one of their own of being a spy. Their onboard antics keep them sane, however, as they attempt to make it through ... (wait for it) ... the long voyage home.

Since the script is based on four one-act plays, the story feels decidedly episodic. All the "episodes" involve the same characters so there is still a sense of continuity, but at the same time, the picture is somewhat disjointed. However, taken on their own merits, each vignette stands up very well. In particular, the storyline revolving around the crew's suspicions of a spy in their midst is especially engrossing. Its climax contains the film's most moving moments.

There are several sections in The Long Voyage Home that play out with very few words spoken, making for some captivating cinema. Director John Ford is extremely adept at telling the story visually. In addition, the special effects employed during the storm sequence are effectively simple. Dumping vat loads of water on to the set is all it takes.

John Wayne, in the role of Olsen, is billed first, yet he hardly speaks two sentences until the final act. And the way the other characters treated him, I initially thought that Olsen was slow. Turns out he's just Swedish. Anyway, The Long Voyage Home is clearly an ensemble piece and the cast is very capable. Particularly memorable are John Qualen, Barry Fitzgerald and Thomas Mitchell (pictured). Qualen and Fitzgerald expertly provide the humour. And watching Mitchell has been one of the great joys of this project. Here, he adds to his other Matt vs. the Academy appearances with an absorbing portrayal of the unpredictable yet loyal Driscoll.

Best Picture of 2002

It's hardly worth mentioning any more, but yet again, I have reviewed five more excellent films. The 2002 crop of Best Picture contenders is an impressive assortment worthy of their nominations. My pick of the bunch was not an incredibly difficult decision, but it was a close call, nonetheless.

The nominees for Best Picture of 2002 are:

• Chicago
• Gangs of New York
• The Hours
• The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
• The Pianist

The fascinating thing about this collection is the level of disillusionment one takes away from each film. Despite their artistic and entertainment value, each picture presents a relatively bleak view of life, sometimes leaving the audience with little faith in humanity. They each retain the positive aspects of their respective genres while introducing some darker themes to boot. Of course, there's nothing wrong with dark themes. The films are all very effective and touching. It's just interesting that they were all nominated together, that's all.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers achieves the awe and wonder inherent in a good fantasy film, but adds to it a good dollop of evil, which occasionally produces some surprisingly naturalistic pathos. The sole musical of the bunch, Chicago, succeeds in providing its genre's greatest assets. Indeed, its enthusiasm and excitement won over the Academy, yet it features as its leads a host of rather despicable characters. The Hours takes on depression as its main area of exploration, particularly the depression associated with the fear of leading a wasted life. It's hard to leave that one with a smile on your face.

Gangs of New York wears its violence on its sleeve, and its protagonist, although motivated by the desire to honour his father, could be more accurately described as being consumed with revenge. Finally, in The Pianist, we are presented with ignorant bigoted genocide, a more depressing theme is hard to find. While it may not have garnered Oscar's top prize (although, the Academy is not shy about its respect for Holocaust films), for its emotionally powerful journey, The Pianist will be declared my choice of Best Picture of 2002.

Best Picture of 2002
Academy's choice: Chicago	Matt's choice: The Pianist

Your choice:

Vote for your own favourite with the poll above. We move now to another year of ten nominees by reviewing the films up for consideration in 1940, a collection which happens to include a number of classics.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1940 are:

• All This, and Heaven Too
• Foreign Correspondent
• The Grapes of Wrath
• The Great Dictator
• Kitty Foyle
• The Letter
• The Long Voyage Home
• Our Town
• The Philadelphia Story
• Rebecca

My current rehearsal schedule may begin to encroach on my movie-watching duties, so please don't be surprised if there is a short delay before we get to these fine films. I'll do my best to keep the hiatus to a minimum.

2002 - The Pianist

Well, I'm settled in here at the Allenberry Playhouse in Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. Music rehearsals began yesterday and, for those of you familiar with My Fair Lady, you'll know that Col. Pickering is not required to flex his singing muscle all that much. Consequently, I have had a grand total of 45 minutes of rehearsal time in the past two days, which is good news for Matt vs. the Academy because it meant I could watch another film today. This wealth of free time will not last forever, though. In fact, tomorrow, we begin rehearsing scenes and again, for those familiar with My Fair Lady, you'll know that Col. Pickering, despite his sparse dialogue, spends a great deal of his time sitting in the background.

Last chance to vote for the next year of review. The poll is waiting for your mouse to click it.

Earlier today, I viewed the last of the 2002 Best Picture nominees...

The Pianist

Director:

Roman Polanski

Screenplay:

Ronald Harwood

(based on the memoir by Wladyslaw Szpilman)

Starring:

Adrien Brody, Thomas Kretschmann, Emilia Fox, Ed Stoppard, Maureen Lipman, Frank Finlay

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

3 wins, including Best Director and Best Actor (Brody)

Based on the autobiography by noted Polish musician Wladyslaw Szpilman, The Pianist relates his unthinkable struggle for survival as a Jew in Nazi-occupied Warsaw. In 1939, when the SS first enter Poland, Szpilman and his family are subjected to greater and greater humiliations in the form of official decrees that essentially ban Jews from leading normal lives. Soon, they are imprisoned inside a Jewish ghetto with hundreds of thousands of others, starving and desperate.

As crowds of Jews are being forcibly shoved onto cattle trains headed for the Treblinka concentration camp, Szpilman is saved at the last minute by a family friend. He spends the next few years scrambling from place to place, hiding from Nazi officers with a little help from members of the Jewish uprising and the Polish resistance. As the war rages on around him, he witnesses all sorts of inhumane atrocities, managing to barely maintain sanity by playing imaginary pianos.

I previously commented on the bleakness of The Hours but it is now evident that the bleakness crown sits well atop the head of The Pianist. The first act of this powerful Holocaust drama presents the slow descent of Warsaw's Jewish population into a horrendously debilitating predicament. First, they are limited in their wealth. Then, they are denied access to parks and certain restaurants. Then, they are forced to wear armbands, publicly labelling themselves as Jews. These scenes are carefully presented one by one, ominously capturing the incremental debasement of Nazi policy, intended to lessen the incidence of resistance. Each demeaning decree is such a small step from the last that the injustice is almost unnoticeable - kind of like the growth of a fingernail. Nobody suspects that the conclusion will be fatal, so before they know it, the Szpilman family are in line waiting to be sent to their deaths.

Although the first third of the film is devoted to these unfolding events that affect the entire Jewish population of the city, the rest of the film is a very personal journey of survival. As people come in and out of Szpilman's life to either help or hurt him, it is painfully clear that he is on his own. Despite his incredible survival instinct, however, he is a somewhat passive character, a perfectly understandable trait given his circumstances. He requires the kindness of others plus a bit of luck in order to survive. Many battles and uprisings occur in his vicinity while he attempts to remain inconspicuous. Director Roman Polanski accentuates this point by allowing us only to see these battles from a distance, just as Szpilman does, watching the violence through a window. Still, once all of Szpilman's contacts have inevitably abandoned him, passiveness is no longer an option and he finds a way to keep going, spurred on by the memory of music.

It is certainly a tad disheartening to concede that humans are capable of inflicting this sort of blindly stupid cruelty on each other and The Pianist is such a simply told story that this message is so easily accessible. Depressing, perhaps, although the film balances its evil characters with a fair number of brave and selfless ones as well. In fact, the point is also made that you cannot always be sure of who is good and who is bad. Szpilman suffers due to neglect from a man who is supposedly working with the resistance, while at another time, he is aided by a Nazi officer.

As Szpilman, Adrien Brody (pictured) is superb in his breakout role, reportedly studying piano technique fiercely prior to shooting. His playing is definitely realistic despite the fact that the actual recordings (and some of the close-up shots of hands) were provided by classical Polish pianist Janusz Olejniczak. It is difficult to single out any other performance, partly because Brody is so prominent and partly because the supporting actors are equally impressive. So, instead you will have to trust me when I say that the rest of the cast support Brody wonderfully. Truly, the casting is spectacular.

The images in The Pianist are unmistakably powerful. Undoubtedly, however, I am more deeply affected by this subject matter due to my own Jewish heritage. I imagine it is something akin to the way an African-American must feel when watching a film about slavery. There is an inexplicable affinity in witnessing this persecution knowing that your own ancestors suffered similar adversity. Having said that, though, the film is still required to be well-made and avoid any trivialising of the issue. And on those counts, The Pianist succeeds.

2002 - The Hours

This may be the last entry for a short while. It may not be, but I thought I'd better lower your expectations just in case. Next week, I leave New York to spend the summer at the Allenberry Playhouse performing for Pennsylvanians ... and anyone else who cares to stop by. Hopefully, my rehearsal and performance schedule won't cause too much of a disruption to normal proceedings here at Matt vs. the Academy, but if you don't hear from me in a while, you'll know why.

By the way, the poll for the next year of review is still taking votes, so make your voice heard. Just glance over to the right.

Today, I watched another nominee from the Best Picture slate of 2002...

The Hours

Director:

Stephen Daldry

Screenplay:

David Hare

(based on the novel by Michael Cunningham)

Starring:

Nicole Kidman, Julianne Moore, Meryl Streep, Stephen Dillane, Miranda Richardson, John C. Reilly, Toni Collette, Ed Harris, Allison Janney, Claire Danes, Jeff Daniels

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

1 win, for Best Actress (Kidman)

If you're in the mood for a pick-me-up, probably best to steer clear of The Hours. It follows one day in the lives of three rather unhappy women. Well, three days, actually - one day for each woman. Virginia Woolf (Kidman) is in England in 1923, depressed as she writes Mrs. Dalloway. Laura Brown (Moore) is in Los Angeles in 1951, depressed as she reads Mrs. Dalloway. Clarissa Vaughan (Streep) is in New York City in 2001, depressed as she behaves like Mrs Dalloway.

Virginia, coping with mental illness, is bored with her suburban existence in Richmond and dreams of moving back to London, but her husband, Leonard (Dillane), won't hear of it, fearful of another suicide attempt. Laura, also unhappy with her marriage to reliable but boring Dan (Reilly), spends the day looking after her young son and trying to quell her suicidal thoughts. Clarissa, preparing for a party for longtime friend Richard (Harris), slowly unravels throughout the day as she begins to question why she bothers doing anything.

The unique narrative technique of The Hours is easily its most conspicuous element and the three stories intertwine with a great deal of thematic parallels - lesbianism, existentialism, eggs. Yes, eggs. You see, not only are the three plots similar - each of the women is desperately unhappy with her mundane duty-bound life - but often, there are complementary images and actions just to drive the point home. We cut from Laura lying on her side to Virginia lying on her side, or from Virginia sighing to Clarissa sighing. And at some point in each story, eggs are cracked into a bowl. While this narrative device could easily come across as spoon-feeding, it is just subtle enough to merely enhance the cohesion of the film.

Undoubtedly, it is easiest to relate to Clarissa's story, possibly because of its contemporary setting. Unlike Virginia and Laura, she has the benefit of living in an era (and a city) where she can be openly gay. Plus, the disillusionment that she shares with the other women is somehow milder in its manifestation, if only due to the fact that she seems not to contemplate suicide as much as they do. And, in a way, Clarissa's lessons are learnt through the struggles and contemplations of the older women.

Any way you look at it, though, The Hours is an emotionally draining picture, a sentiment that would seem to be confirmed by the haunting score, and in lines like, "If it's a choice between Richmond and death, I choose death." Not a glowing advertisement for Richmond.

With such a noteworthy cast, it is unsurprising that there are such noteworthy performances. Of the three female leads, Meryl Streep is the standout. Interestingly, however, she was the only one to miss out as both Julianne Moore and Nicole Kidman received Oscar nominations. Kidman and her prosthetic nose (pictured) took away the Best Actress prize. Ed Harris also garnered a citation for his supporting role as the AIDS sufferer exhausted with living. Miranda Richardson and Claire Danes also shine in their roles, as does English actor Stephen Dillane, who delivers an intensely stirring performance as the frustrated Mr. Woolf. And this marks the third 2002 Best Picture nominee for John C. Reilly - quite an achievement. It is also the third time he has inhabited a character who nobody seems to respect. Poor guy.