1998 - Life Is Beautiful

Another name-dropping story: I once again had the simultaneously exciting and humbling experience of rubbing shoulders with celebrities while serving them dinner. At a charity event last night, I presented plates to both Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker, who very politely offered a simple, "Thank you." See, kids? Fame doesn't mean you have to dispense with manners.

This past weekend, Kat and I sat down to watch another Best Picture contender from 1998...

Life Is Beautiful
Director:
Roberto Benigni
Screenplay:
Roberto Benigni
Starring:
Roberto Benigni, Nicoletta Braschi, Giorgio Cantarini, Giustino Durano, Sergio Bustric, Madre di Dora, Horst Buchholz
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
3 wins, including Best Actor (Benigni) and Best Foreign Language Film

Fun-loving Italian Guido Orefice (Benigni) and his good buddy Ferruccio (Bustric) arrive in Arezzo to try their luck in a big city ... well, biggish city. Almost immediately, Guido has a chance meeting with the beautiful schoolteacher Dora (Braschi), bumping into her (literally) a few more times before falling head over heels (literally) for her. Unperturbed by her engagement to a jerk, he rides in on a painted horse and sweeps her off her feet (literally).

Years later, the two are married with an adorable young son named Joshua (Cantarini). But their happy life is soon turned upside down by the horrific realities of World War II. Because they are Jewish, Guido, Joshua and Guido's uncle Eliseo (Durano) are taken away to a concentration camp. Dora, although not Jewish, demands to be sent with them so that she can be with her family. While at the camp, Guido insists to Joshua that the entire experience is one large game with a tank as the first prize. Through imaginative, and often brave, acts of quick-thinking, Guido attempts to shield his son from the tragic truth of their situation.

In a way, Life is Beautiful is two films in one - a slapstick romantic comedy with a drama as its companion piece. Both are equally captivating and they are perfectly matched, seamlessly switching from one to the other. The first half is unabashedly silly and romantically sweet. Roberto Benigni's old-fashioned style of slapstick is starkly Chaplinesque, as if the Holocaust-themed comedy needed another reason to be reminiscent of The Great Dictator.

At the midway point, the film takes a surprisingly smooth turn to the serious. Cleverly, though, the comedy is not entirely pushed aside. Quite the contrary. The improvisational nature of Benigni's character, that was so delightfully set up during the opening scenes, pays off dividends in the film's latter half. In fact, the entire premise succeeds precisely because of Guido's personality. He is essentially the glue that sticks the two potentially incongruous genres together.

Any film in a language that is foreign to me - which, embarrassingly, is every language other than English - has the unavoidable setback of requiring me to read the dialogue. In this instance, it is particularly unfortunate due to the loquaciousness of the main character. I'd much rather be looking at Benigni's face than at the bottom of the screen. It is, then, a testament to the power of the film that it is still so remarkably effective on an emotional level.

Benigni won the Academy's Best Actor prize for his buffoonish performance (delivering an equally buffoonish speech when he accepted the film's Foreign Language Film win). But his buffoonery is just so ridiculously charming, and he is extremely adept at recognising when to turn it off. His face when he realises Dr. Lessing's nervous discomfort is only due to a particularly hard-to-solve riddle is nothing short of heartbreaking. Benigni's real-life wife Braschi serves well as his foil in the comedic moments of the first half, even if she is mostly relegated to longing looks in the second. And what a find is Giorgio Cantarini, the adorable young boy who plays Joshua. Praise clearly needs to be given to Benigni yet again for directing such a young child to such an amicable performance.

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.