1951 - Quo Vadis

It's almost hard to believe that my visit to Australia is very nearly over. Tomorrow, Kat and I fly back to the United States after a whirlwind tour of Sydney. The last couple of weeks have been all hustle and bustle as we caught up with friends and family, every meeting seeming to involve food. And for some reason, we met an inordinate number of babies for the first time, many around the eight to ten month age range. If my calculations are correct, it appears that these couples may have specifically waited for us to leave the country to conceive their children. Hmmm...

So busy was I during this trip that I am only now posting this review despite having watched this film almost a week ago. My first film of 2011 was the final nominee from 1951's Best Picture contenders...

Quo Vadis
Director:
Mervyn LeRoy
Screenplay:
John Lee Mahin, S.N. Berhman, Sonya Levien
(based on the novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz)
Starring:
Robert Taylor, Deborah Kerr, Leo Genn, Peter Ustinov, Patricia Laffan, Finlay Currie, Abraham Sofaer, Marina Berti
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
0 wins

Ancient Rome in the first century is governed by Nero (Ustinov), who acts more like a tantrum-throwing child than an emperor. After years as Nero's advisor, the far more intelligent Petronius (Genn) placates and coddles his emperor to the point of manipulation, biding his time. Marcus Vinicius (Taylor), a commander in Nero's army, returns from battle and chauvinistically pursues Lygia (Kerr), a hostage of Rome and a member of a newly-formed religious group known as the Christians. Vinicius asks his emperor if he can have Lygia as compensation for his successful military duties. What girl could resist such a romantic gesture? Lygia falls in love with Vinicius anyway, but their newfound happiness is short-lived as Nero begins to cruelly persecute the Christians and those who associate with them.

As a historical drama, Quo Vadis hits all the right notes. However, Quo Vadis is not entirely a historical drama. It is mostly a Christian allegory and, as such, can appear a tad preachy. Although, its perceived preachiness is probably dependent on the viewer's religious convictions, I suppose. Nevertheless, the allegorical content is itself engaging and, therefore, not too detrimental to the enjoyment of the film for those of a non-Christian persuasion.

It is difficult not to at least compare this picture to that other Roman epic of the 1950s, Ben-Hur. Indeed, there is a brief chariot scene in Quo Vadis, complete with drivers whipping each other and spiky wooden wheels tearing other wheels to shreds. The whole thing may well have been considered reminiscent of the Charlton Heston classic if it weren't for the fact that Quo Vadis was released about eight years prior to Ben-Hur.

In any case, the exciting action sequences are fitting for any film hoping to label itself an epic, and they are complemented by lavish sets and costumes creating a theatrically extravagant atmosphere. Only the special effects leave a bit to be desired. Due to the limited technology of the time, the blue-screen effect often leaves a blue glow around the actors, making them seem like 70s TV weathermen. Despite this unavoidable flaw, the chaos surrounding the burning of Rome is still immensely powerful.

Most importantly, the film has a very engaging story, approaching the material in a personal and emotional way despite the epic backdrop. The characters are interesting, both as written and as performed. Peter Ustinov is the standout with his hilarious yet poignant portrayal of the narcissistic emperor Nero. His right-hand man, Petronius, is played with delicious restraint by Leo Genn. Both men received Supporting Actor nominations from the Academy, boosting the film's total nods to eight, only three less than Ben-Hur's in 1959. The two films' conversion rates are a little less similar. While Ben-Hur took all but one of its nominations, Quo Vadis failed to take home any awards at all...

1951 - A Streetcar Named Desire

Happy New Year! I write this from sunny and warm Sydney, Australia. Despite the sweat glistening on my forehead, I am more than pleased to experience these hot climes because it means I have avoided the recent blizzardy conditions of New York. To ring in the new year, last night Kat and I first caught up with some friends to enjoy the early evening fireworks over beautiful Sydney Harbour with our view from a park in Lavender Bay (pictured - just imagine fireworks). We then made our way back to my parents' place to watch the midnight fireworks from an equally stunning viewpoint on their balcony.

Earlier in the week, I watched my last film of 2010, another film classic from 1951's list of Best Picture nominees...

A Streetcar Named Desire
Director:
Elia Kazan
Screenplay:
Tennesse Williams and Oscar Saul
(based on Williams' play)
Starring:
Vivien Leigh, Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter, Karl Malden
Academy Awards:
12 nominations
4 wins, including Best Actress (Leigh)

Blanche DuBois (Leigh) arrives in New Orleans and hops aboard a streetcar named Desire, making her way to the French Quarter to visit her sister Stella (Hunter). Stella's macho husband, Stanley Kowalski (Brando), immediately takes a disliking to Blanche's snobbishness and accuses her of secretly selling the family home and keeping the money for herself. When Stanley's poker buddy Mitch (Malden) shows interest in Blanche, Stanley digs around in her past to uncover all sorts of nasty secrets, creating tension between ... well, everybody.

I have a confession to make. Despite being an actor and a film buff, I had never seen this (or any other) adaptation of A Streetcar Named Desire. Even more embarrassingly, I have not seen or read the play on which it is based. I was aware, of course, of Blanche's famous last words, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers," and of the iconic image of Stanley outside screaming, "Stella!" but somehow, I was almost completely oblivious to the plot ... which turns out to have been a bit of a hindrance.

As I've discovered over the course of this project, many films of this era find creative solutions to the restrictive censorship rules to which they were forced to adhere. However, in this instance, it seems some of the censoring occurred after the film was shot and without director Elia Kazan's approval. Consequently, there are a few relatively crucial plot points that remain slightly elusive. After I viewed the film, I read a synopsis online and was somewhat astonished to discover that Blanche had previously engaged in prostitution and that her suicidal husband was gay. To top it all off, the climactic fight scene between Stanley and Blanche turns out to have been a precursor to a rape. Mind you, everything made a lot more sense with that knowledge. I only wish that I had discerned that information while I was watching. (I suppose I should acknowledge, though, that my failure to correctly comprehend these events may also be due to the lack of focus brought on by my jet-lag.)

Unfortunate censorship notwithstanding, the picture boasts a captivating atmosphere. The story takes place during a hot Southern summer and the heat permeates the screen, both literal heat and metaphorical heat. The characters sweat from the high temperatures and also from their sexual desires, simultaneously represented by many a torn undershirt (pictured). Amplifying the heat is the sultry and steamy score. If it is at all possible for music to feel hot, composer Alex North succeeds admirably.

The first film to win three acting Oscars, A Streetcar Named Desire's performances are arguably its most striking feature. Vivien Leigh's portrayal of the pretentious Blanche DuBois at first seems merely to be a reprisal of her other Oscar-winning prissy Southern belle role, but develops into several truly touching moments. Kim Hunter and Karl Malden both won supporting role Oscars for their superbly compelling characterisations. In my humble opinion, however, it is the only non-winner in the cast who gave the standout performance. Marlon Brando's naturalistic approach to his portrayal of the intensely passionate Stanley Kowalski is a seminal example of method acting, a technique that was probably not well understood or accepted yet by the old guard of the Academy. Instead, they gave the Best Actor award to an overdue Humphrey Bogart. Nonetheless, Brando (along with fellow nominee Montgomery Clift of A Place in the Sun) delivered a performance that was influential in shaping the future of screen acting.

1951 - Decision Before Dawn

Happy holidays, everyone! On Wednesday, Kat and I will be flying home to Sydney to visit family and friends for the first time since we moved to New York a year and a half ago. That coupled with the holiday season will undoubtedly slow down the pace of Matt vs. the Academy for the moment. No fear, though. We will complete the current slate of nominees prior to my arrival in Los Angeles in mid-January, at which time I will visit the UCLA Film Archive to view the first of the 1930-31 contenders.

Today, though, I took a look at another 1951 Best Picture nominee...

Decision Before Dawn

Director:

Anatole Litvak

Screenplay:

Peter Viertel

(based on the novel 'Call It Treason' by George Howe)

Starring:

Richard Basehart, Gary Merrill, Oskar Werner, Hildegarde Knef, Dominique Blanchar, O.E. Hasse, Wilfried Seyferth, Hans Christian Blech

Academy Awards:

2 nominations

0 wins

During the final days of World War II, the U.S. Army recruits German prisoners-of-war for espionage duties. For a particularly important information-gathering mission, Col. Devlin (Merrill) assigns U.S. officer Lt. Rennick (Basehart) to accompany German soldier Sgt. Barth (Blech), codenamed Tiger. Simultaneously, Cpl. Karl Maurer (Werner), ironically codenamed Happy, is given the dangerous task of discovering the whereabouts of Germany's 11th Panzer Corps. While attempting to achieve his covert goal, Happy must also elude the Gestapo, who do not take kindly to traitors.

While it may not seem clear at first, the main character in Decision Before Dawn is Happy. There is a decent amount of set-up before we get to the crux of the film's story, in which we follow Happy as he nervously makes his way from one incident to the next, attempting to maintain under the radar. The tension in this section alone is enough to forgive the film's other flaws. Director Anatole Litvak achieves a genuine sense of loneliness for Happy. He is paradoxically an outsider living among his own kind, stranded in his home land.

I could have done without the voice-over memories, however. Whenever Happy finds a quiet moment to himself, the camera moves in closer as he directs his gaze upward and we hear the voices of those Happy has encountered repeating their important words. Granted, this clichéd convention does help to highlight Happy's isolation, but it is slightly overused here. Ditto the constant reference to cigarettes. I couldn't quite figure out the intended symbolism of all this talk about smoking. Nor could I figure out the meaning of the film's title. There are certainly decisions made during the course of the narrative, and many of them are made before sunrise, but is there one of particular importance?

Oskar Werner (pictured) delivers an effectively understated performance as the troubled German soldier, although there is a fine line between the character appearing stoic and the actor appearing dull. Fortunately, Werner leans towards the former. Richard Basehart and Gary Merrill as the American officers portray mostly stereotypical machismo. As such, the German actors shine, especially Wilfried Seyferth as the punchy SS courier.

Despite all my nit-picking, Decision Before Dawn remains an engrossing film and well worth a look.

1951 - An American in Paris

My new job as an events waiter is proving to be quite the boon for associating with the rich and famous. Yesterday, I worked on an event for Lincoln Center, in which John Guare gave a speech. Coupled with Monday's sighting of Susan Sarandon, I now have a double connection to one of the film's already reviewed for Matt vs. the Academy - Atlantic City was written by Guare and starred Sarandon. An entirely meaningless connection, I know, but it's the little things...

Earlier today, I watched the Academy's eventual choice for Best Picture of 1951...

An American in Paris

Director:

Vincente Minnelli

Screenplay:

Alan Jay Lerner

Starring:

Gene Kelly, Leslie Caron, Oscar Levant, Georges Guétary, Nina Foch

Academy Awards:

8 nominations

6 wins, including Best Picture

The man of the title is Jerry Mulligan (Kelly), a struggling artist who has moved to Paris for inspiration. His good friend, Adam Cook (Levant), an accomplished concert pianist who has never played a concert, introduces him to French cabaret singer Henri Baurel (Guétary) and the three spend most of their time hanging out in the café near Jerry's apartment. Enter Milo Roberts (Foch), an American art aficionado who has the money to make Jerry's art dreams come true. While on a date with Milo, Jerry meets and flirts with Lise Bouvier (Caron), who happens to be the fiancée of Henri. Jerry and Lise begin a romantic affair that is inevitably hampered by the secrets they don't want to share. Then, everybody dances.

An American in Paris is a spectacle - there's no doubt about that. It's a daydreamer's paradise. Not only does the audience experience the wonder of the make-believe, but the characters on screen seem to be fantasising in vibrant colour every chance they get. Set the whole thing to a bunch of familiar toe-tapping Gershwin tunes - I Got Rhythm, 'Swonderful, Embraceable You, to name just a few - and you've got yourself a fun piece of entertainment that requires nothing more from you than to simply relax and enjoy.

Each of the musical numbers is built upon a unique concept and crammed with imagination. All the elements combine to reach a pinnacle of creativity - impressive sets, extravagant costumes, atmospheric lighting and incredibly inventive choreography (tap-dancing always inspires awe and Gene Kelly's gracefulness makes it look so easy). It's lucky these numbers are so entertaining because they are certainly not brief. The final dance extravaganza (pictured) is over fifteen minutes, which apparently left only about sixty seconds to wrap up the storyline. Consequently, the conclusion is abruptly contrived and utterly inexplicable. That said, the script by Alan Jay Lerner (of Lerner & Loewe renown) is witty from the get-go, as evidenced when Adam Cook introduces himself by acknowledging, "It's not a pretty face, I grant you, but underneath its flabby exterior is an enormous lack of character."

Being an extravagant musical, the majority of the performances are suitably exaggerated. But it's the dancing that we're here to see and Gene Kelly's smooth footwork delivers, as does Leslie Caron's exquisite ballet technique. Meanwhile, Oscar Levant provides the humour. For fans of classic television, keep an eye out for Noel Neill - Lois Lane to George Reeves' Superman - as a sidewalk art critic, and Hayden Rorke - Dr. Bellows from I Dream of Jeannie - as an art dealer acquaintance of Milo.

1951 - A Place in the Sun

December must surely be the busiest month of the year - holiday parties aplenty; my new musical improv group, The Boombox Kids, has performed several gigs around town; I started a new job with a high-end catering company (at which, after working only one event, I have already rubbed shoulders with the likes of Susan Sarandon, Edward Norton and David Lynch); and in a week, Kat and I will be heading back home to Sydney for a brief visit, the first such visit since we moved to New York a year and a half ago.

You will notice there is no poll to decide the next year of review for Matt vs. the Academy. As previously discussed, I'll be stopping in L.A. for a few days before I return to New York, so I will take that opportunity to pop in to the UCLA Film Archive for a viewing of two Best Picture nominees that lack home video releases. Thus, 1930-31 is the chosen next year of review.

For now, we begin looking at 1951's slate of Best Picture nominees, starting with...

A Place in the Sun

Director:

George Stevens

Screenplay:

Michael Wilson and Harry Brown

(based on the novel 'An American Tragedy' by Theodore Dreiser and the play of the same name adapted by Patrick Kearney)

Starring:

Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor, Shelley Winters, Anne Revere, Keefe Brasselle, Raymond Burr, Herbert Heyes

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

6 wins, including Best Director

George Eastman (Clift), not the photography pioneer, but a poor young man with high ambitions, accepts work in a clothing factory run by his wealthy uncle (Heyes). Despite the company policy prohibiting any fraternising with the female employees, George begins a discreet affair with fellow factory worker Alice (Winters), a mostly sensible and well-meaning girl. Their relationship is strained, however, when George's family connections begin to afford him certain advantages.

At one of the Eastman family's fancy soirées, George meets pretty and confident socialite Angela Vickers (Taylor) and the two hit it off immediately. Soon, George is leading a double life, placating Alice while inconspicuously gallivanting off with his true love Angela. The situation is further complicated by Alice's rather inconvenient pregnancy.

A Place in the Sun is based on the novel 'An American Tragedy', a title that is its own spoiler. Cleverly, though, George Stevens (or someone involved in the film's production) decided not to retain the novel's title for the film, but unfortunately, the opening credits name the source material in large letters, so the damage is still done. Nonetheless, the picture is extremely engaging and Stevens exploits this sense of foreboding brilliantly with the help of the Oscar-winning score (which turns a simple close-up into a chilling insight into the thoughts of a desperate man) and the Oscar-winning cinematography (which adds mystery by keeping the actors' faces in complete darkness during critical moments).

Being the early 1950s, almost the very thought of portraying sex on film was outlawed, and I'm always intrigued by how filmmakers of that era conveyed to their audience that two characters have done the deed. The artistically inventive solution in A Place in the Sun is to depict George and Alice dancing intimately in her apartment before the camera pans to the window overlooking her porch. Night slowly dissolves into morning as the rooster crows ... and George quietly sneaks down the porch steps having spent the night. Scandalous.

Montgomery Clift (pictured) earned a Best Actor nomination for his superb portrayal of George - hunched, brooding and sincere (paving the way for another gone-too-soon George Stevens collaborator, James Dean). Shelley Winters was the film's only other Oscar nominee, garnering a nod for Best Actress for her versatile performance as the downtrodden Alice. Elizabeth Taylor (also pictured) is also worth noting as the vivaciously forward Angela. And Perry Mason fans will be pleased to see Raymond Burr in the courtroom as District Attorney Marlowe.