1998 - Elizabeth

Since I last wrote, two rather major (and hopefully, fruitful) career accomplishments have occurred. I joined Actor's Equity, the prestigious performer's union with jurisdiction over theatre. Plus, I have finally signed with my first American talent agent. I'm pretty sure this now means I'll be on Broadway next month. That's how it works, right?

The next on 1998's list of Best Picture nominees is...

Elizabeth
Director:
Shekhar Kapur
Screenplay:
Michael Hirst
Starring:
Cate Blanchett, Geoffrey Rush, Christopher Eccleston, Joseph Fiennes, Richard Attenborough, Kathy Burke, John Gielgud, Fanny Ardant, Vincent Cassel
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
1 win, for Best Makeup

Queen Mary I (Burke) is reigning over a religiously divided England in the 16th century. She's Catholic and she's dying. Her advisers urge her to order the execution of her half-sister Elizabeth (Blanchett), the next in line to the throne, because of her Protestant sympathies. Fortunately, Mary saves her head and Princess Elizabeth becomes Queen Elizabeth I, much to the annoyance of the Duke of Norfolk (Eccleston), who remains staunchly opposed to her. Once on the throne, Elizabeth takes the ruthless Francis Walsingham (Rush) as her main adviser and the only person she truly trusts. But her troubles are far from over. She contends with assassination attempts and disrespectful counsellors. She carries on a secret love affair with Lord Robert Dudley (Fiennes) while rejecting the French Duc d'Anjou (Cassel). All the while, she is determined to unite England.

Elizabeth is a private look at a very public figure. While the production is a grand one, it maintains an intimacy as it explores the life of a powerful woman in a man's world. But it is, by no means, one of those quiet, upper-class, tea-and-scones types of period piece. In fact, all the elements of an intense drama are present - passion and lust, power struggles and corruption, violence and murder. And what use is a story about British royalty without a good beheading or two ... or three.

Undeniably, the film is very artistic. Not only are the sets and costumes extravagant and the cinematography exquisite, as you would expect for a film set in Elizabethan England, but also director Shekhar Kapur has composed each shot like a painting - interesting angles, candles in the foreground, half-hidden faces. It is genuinely a feast for the eyes.

Speaking of eyes, many of the cast engage in a great deal of steely-eyed acting, particularly Eccleston and James Frain. French footballer turned actor Eric Cantona seems somehow out of place. And there are an inordinate number of scenes in which Rush creepily sneaks into shot from behind a pillar and stares at something. However, in the role that introduced her to international audiences, Australian Cate Blanchett (pictured) is divine, carrying the film superbly and earning a well-deserved Best Actress nomination.

1998 - The Thin Red Line

Perhaps I should have reconsidered attending a screening of Contagion while suffering from a cold. My coughs and sneezes may have offered those in my vicinity a whole new level of interactive experience.

Though I enjoyed the topically fascinating film, I was not entirely taken by the script. However, the fantastic cast and impressive direction did well to suppress those niggling doubts.

But what I really want to discuss is Jude Law's attempt at an Australian accent. It's disastrous. Perhaps non-Australians won't appreciate the full extent of its disastrousness, but trust me, disastrous it is. What's interesting, though, is that there doesn't seem to be any reference whatsoever to his character's nationality, which begs the question: why bother? I'm hesitant to suggest that a naturally Australian-accented actor should have been cast in the role. After all, my own opportunity for work in this country would be severely limited if actors were never allowed to play characters with accents that differed from their own. However, if the otherwise talented Mr. Law was incapable of perfecting an Australian cadence, then surely it would have been more prudent to simply make his character English.

In Law's defense, the Aussie drawl does seem to be one of those accents that is simply too difficult for a foreign actor to master. Robert Downey, Jr. came close, and Meryl Streep was moderately successful, but even those two accomplished performers didn't quite nail it. Unfortunately, though, Jude Law's effort has to rank as one of the worst.

Beginning our tour of the Best Picture nominees from 1998, we take a look at...

The Thin Red Line
Director:
Terrence Malick
Screenplay:
Terrence Malick
(based on the novel by James Jones)
Starring:
Sean Penn, Adrien Brody, Jim Caviezel, Ben Chaplin, George Clooney, John Cusack, Woody Harrelson, Elias Koteas, Nick Nolte, John C. Reilly, John Travolta
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
0 wins

As Edwin Starr asked and then immediately answered: War. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. That seems to be the message in Terrence Malick's meandering The Thin Red Line, a World War II story whose primary focus is the Battle of Guadalcanal. Brigadier General Quintard (Travolta) orders C Company to seize a hill on which the Japanese have set up a bunker. Lt. Colonel Tall (Nolte) is the bad-tempered commanding officer determined to succeed. Captain Staros (Koteas) is the disobedient captain looking out for his men. Private Witt (Caviezel) is the unenthusiastic soldier recently put back into service after going AWOL. Private Bell (Chaplin) is the depressed soldier, only surviving by daydreaming about his wife back home. And that's not even half of the characters we meet and follow. They each have their own back stories and perspectives, but one thing is common to them all - the recognition and disdain of the unpredictability of war.

The artistry within The Thin Red Line is difficult to deny. Assisted by some breathtaking locations - many of which are to be found in Australia, I might add - the cinematography is exquisite. Nature plays a big role in the film and it is captured beautifully. Juxtaposing that beauty are the plentiful components of a bloody war. A violent explosion in the middle of a reedy hill is a gruesomely fascinating image. The stunt team are also to be congratulated for creating incredibly convincing effects. There are moments when it appears the stunt performer is literally in the middle of the explosion. Along with these aesthetically pleasing aspects of the film, there is a cerebral element that gives the picture a sense of poetry. In fact, the voice over narration, which is shared by several characters, is undeniably poetic, complementing the film's prettiest images.

However, if you're anything like me, your response to all this beauty and poetry may be limited to mild appreciation. Perhaps it is the unfair bias many of us have towards the mainstream, but sincere voices expounding on their emotions can easily come across as pretentious. (And yes, I'm aware of the irony of decrying pretentiousness with such pretentious language - just deal with it.) Nonetheless, The Thin Red Line still contains many traditionally narrative sequences amid its mostly rambling plot. In fact, the film is at its most captivating during the section devoted to the actual mission. The butting of heads between Tall and Staros is particularly gripping.

While featuring numerous characters mainly contributes to the film's tangentiality, it does offer the opportunity for a plethora of cameos. In fact, there were many more famous faces that were left out of the final cut. Suffice it to say, the picture features several powerful performances, and due to the nature of the film, many of those performances are far too brief, particularly those of Adrien Brody and John C. Reilly, both of whom I wanted to see more. Also worth individual mention is Jim Caviezel for his pensively touching portrayal.

Best Picture of 1967

This is one of those nominees lists that seems overstuffed with films that have stood the test of time. Well, not completely overstuffed. There's one obvious misfit. But among the other four, it was a mildly difficult task to separate them. In the end, though, one picture pushed its nose in front.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1967 are:

• Bonnie and Clyde
• Doctor Dolittle
• The Graduate
• Guess Who's Coming To Dinner
• In the Heat of the Night

One of these things is not like the other. In making my verdict, I easily set aside Doctor Dolittle from the outset. While it has a fun vibe and a few entertaining moments, it is an essentially silly movie providing little competition to the other four contenders. In fact, if ever there was fodder for those critics who decry the Academy's weakness in allowing itself to be influenced by Oscar campaigning, Doctor Dolittle and its nine nominations is certainly it.

The four remaining pictures each hold a fairly high place in film lore as well as popular culture, and my own personal ranking of them leaves little room between each one. Thus, it is only with the slightest of margins that I release the next two films. Guess Who's Coming To Dinner is incredibly endearing with a heartwarming story, and Bonnie and Clyde succeeds as an exciting action flick with a fascinating central relationship.

Coincidentally (or perhaps not), we are left with the Academy's Best Picture winner and its Best Director winner. In the Heat of the Night is a tense racially-charged drama with superb leading actors, but my pick is Dustin Hoffman's breakout film. With its witty script and subtle performances, The Graduate takes away Matt vs. the Academy's favourite Best Picture nominee of 1967.

Best Picture of 1967
Academy's choice: In the Heat of the Night	Matt's choice: The Graduate

Your choice:

Please go ahead and vote for your own favourite by using the poll above. Next up, we move to the 1990s to a group of films with an interesting connection. All five are period pieces and, between them, they only depict two time periods. Two set in the Elizabethan era and three set during World War II.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1998 are:

• Elizabeth
• Life Is Beautiful
• Saving Private Ryan
• Shakespeare In Love
• The Thin Red Line

If you want to play along with Matt vs. the Academy while supporting the project, check out Amazon's DVDs and Instant Videos of 1998's nominees.

1967 - Doctor Dolittle

Hurricane Irene swept through New York City on the weekend and it looks like we got lucky. Kat and I in particular hardly noticed a thing. As the top of the hurricane hit, the bulk of the wind force seemed to come in from a north-easterly direction. Rather fortunately, the windows in our apartment face south and west. I imagine the other side of the building felt the barrage considerably more. By the time the wind changed direction as the tail end of the hurricane arrived later on Sunday, its strength had weakened and the rain had all but stopped. It could not have been a more convenient chain of events.

As the stores reopened and the subway trains began to roll again, I watched the final nominee from 1967's Best Picture competition is...

Doctor Dolittle
Director:
Richard Fleischer
Screenplay:
Leslie Bricusse
(based on the novels by Hugh Lofting)
Starring:
Rex Harrison, Samantha Eggar, Anthony Newley, Richard Attenborough, Peter Bull, Muriel Lander, William Dix, Geoffrey Holder
Academy Awards:
9 nominations
2 wins, including Best Song (Talk to the Animals)

In the English seaside town of Puddleby-on-the-Marsh, local Irish merchant Matthew Mugg (Newley) introduces a naive young boy named Tommy Stubbins (Dix) to the greatest animal doctor who ever lived. Doctor John Dolittle (Harrison) began his career as a regular medical doctor, but soon tired of human contact, preferring to spend time with animals instead. With no apparent formal training, Doctor Dolittle simply switches specialties and becomes a veterinarian and, thanks to the teachings of his pet parrot, he has now learned nearly 500 animal languages and can freely communicate with the dozens of animals in his care.

When Dolittle is delivered a Pushmi-Pullyu, a rare beast akin to the llama except for its two heads, the three friends trot off to the local circus to share it with the world. After a horrible misunderstanding in which two men mistake a seal for an old woman and then witness Dolittle throw it into the sea, he finds himself in court up against an unsympathetic judge (Bull) who sentences him to an insane asylum. Matthew and Tommy aid his escape and, along with the judge's pretty but brusque niece Emma (Eggar), the four set sail in search of the wandering Sea-Star Island as well as Dolittle's ultimate find, the Great Pink Sea Snail, a creature most experts believe to be mythical.

Doctor Dolittle is very much a children's movie. It's silly, fantastical and plays like a pantomime. The central conceit itself, that of a man who can converse with animals, is obviously pretty ridiculous. Peppered throughout are several childish gags, including a horse with glasses reading from an eye chart. While it would not be unfair to label this picture as immature, that is not necessarily a criticism. It's just that you may need to still have your baby teeth to get the most out of it. I mean, what ten-year-old wouldn't like a story about a giant pink sea snail? Curiously, though, with such a clever and witty rhyming scheme, the lyrics seem decidedly advanced for the little ones to truly appreciate. The Academy certainly appreciated them, however. They awarded Talk to the Animals their Best Song award.

Visually, it is an impressive film. With some aesthetically pleasing locations and a host of interesting designs, Doctor Dolittle at times is genuinely majestic. It also scored an Oscar for Special Visual Effects, and while there are indeed some effects worthy of oohs and aahs, some of the puppetry is afflicted with a slight case of lifelessness. However, the most incredible feat of the film is undeniably the animal wrangling. Kudos to the trainers who succeed in eliciting charmingly anthropomorphic performances from their pets. Animals of all shapes and sizes adorn the set, often dozens at the same time. I shudder to think of the clean-up that was required afterwards. It must have been a smelly set.

Now, what can I say about Rex Harrison (pictured) and his talky singing? It may have worked well for him in My Fair Lady, perhaps due to the loquaciousness of the lyrics he was given to perform, but it falls rather flat here. The effect is similar to watching a rehearsal, so much does it take away from the numbers' musicality and from Harrison's otherwise delightful performance. Anthony Newley - who is also known for his musical collaboration with Doctor Dolittle's composer and screenwriter, Leslie Bricusse - delivers an amiable performance as the Irish charmer. Also watchable is a young (well, younger) Richard Attenborough as the circus owner, Mr. Blossom.

Ultimately, Doctor Dolittle is a fluffy, silly movie, which makes it all the more surprising that it made the Best Picture shortlist. Mind you, they loved their musicals back then, so perhaps it's not as surprising as it would be if it were to happen today, but still a little puzzling.

1967 - In the Heat of the Night

My first earthquake and my first hurricane all in the same week! While my earthquake experience merely consisted of feeling the building wobble for a few seconds, I suspect Hurricane Irene may cause a slightly larger impact. We are not in the evacuation zone, but to prepare for the impending storm, Kat and I have stocked up on groceries and have a "go bag" ready. There is one dilemma, though. The authorities tell us to stay indoors and keep clear of the windows to avoid potential flying debris. Since we live in such a small apartment, that essentially means we may have to sleep in the bathtub. But they also say to fill the bathtub in order to have water with which to flush the toilet in the event that the plumbing is shut off.

Kat and I are now preparing for the longest bath-time in history.

The Academy's pick for Best Picture of 1967 is our next film to go under the microscope...

In the Heat of the Night
Director:
Norman Jewison
Screenplay:
Stirling Silliphant
(based on the novel by John Ball)
Starring:
Sidney Poitier, Rod Steiger, Warren Oates, Lee Grant, Larry Gates, James Patterson, William Schallert, Beah Richards
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
5 wins, including Best Picture and Best Actor (Steiger)

When a dead man is discovered in the wee hours of the morning in Sparta, Mississippi, the police chief, Bill Gillespie (Steiger), orders Sergeant Sam Wood (Oates) to sweep the town for suspects. Waiting at the train station is a black man, Virgil Tibbs (Poitier), who quickly becomes suspect number one. Gillespie's suspicions prove unwarranted, however, when it becomes clear that Mr. Tibbs (for that is what they call him) is actually a police officer himself - a homicide detective, no less. When Gillespie confirms this with Tibbs' superior in Philadelphia, Tibbs is ordered to stay in Sparta to help the small town police force with their investigation. Neither man is particularly happy with that arrangement, but the two reluctantly work together, which often consists of Gillespie asserting his certainty of a suspect's guilt before Tibbs explains how he's wrong. With racial tensions high amongst the town's residents, Tibbs must try to stay safe while earning Gillespie's respect.

'Tense' is the first word that comes to mind when viewing In the Heat of the Night. Not only are there several moments of potential (and actual) violence that keep you on the edge of your seat, plus a genuinely absorbing police procedural storyline, but the main thrust of the narrative - that of the relationship between a white Southern police chief and a black city-dwelling homicide detective - is a particularly intense display of mutual obstinacy. The two men butt heads consistently, staring each other down with glassy eyes on many occasions. The film's languidly rousing music is the perfect complement to this tension - including the sultry theme song sung by Ray Charles - yet is used sparingly, allowing the tensest scenes to cleverly remain unscored.

Perhaps my only major criticism of the picture is the final moment. The gripping tension of the previous couple of hours deserves a better climax than the somewhat cheap smiles that Tibbs and Gillespie present to each other as Tibbs leaves. Sure, they have developed a mutual respect now, we get that. But I think I would have preferred a simple understated nod that at least acknowledges the history of their strained relationship rather than the Hollywood-style all-is-forgiven wrap-up that comes across as a little cheesy and unnecessary, especially considering it takes place in the space of about ten seconds. Not that Poitier's and Steiger's smiles are overstated by any means, so perhaps I'm being too harsh. It could have been a lot worse. After all, they don't actually confess their feelings in words. I suppose I just like my touching conclusions to be as subtle as possible.

Sidney Poitier's strong presence is perfect for the bullheaded Virgil Tibbs, but he unfortunately missed out on an Oscar nomination. Not so, Rod Steiger, whose gum-chewing grumblebum with the yellow-tinted sunglasses is a brilliantly fascinating portrayal to watch, very much deserving of his Best Actor win. The supporting players' performances border on stereotypical small-town hicks, but they all serve their purpose well. Beah Richards, who played Poitier's mother in the same year's Guess Who's Coming To Dinner, is superb here as a sassy back-room abortionist.