1959 - Room at the Top

There is one major pitfall of the infrequency with which I've been updating this blog as of late. Too many newsworthy events occur in between posts for me to devote the appropriate amount of space to informing you about each of them. So, here's a brief summary of my news for the past couple of weeks:

Fresh off the New York City premiere of my short film Clicked, of which I wrote about last time, the film has now been selected for the Hoboken International Film Festival, screening in the first week of June. On top of that, I'll be beginning rehearsals later this week for a local production of The Taming of the Shrew, in which I will play Grumio.

If I manage to decrease the delay between each post in the coming weeks, I'll give more details for those events, but in the meantime, the next Best Picture nominee from the 1959 Oscars is...

Room at the Top
Director:
Jack Clayton
Screenplay:
Neil Paterson
(based on the novel by John Braine)
Starring:
Simone Signoret, Laurence Harvey, Heather Sears, Donald Wolfit, Donald Houston, Hermione Baddeley
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
2 wins, for Best Actress (Signoret) & Best Adapted Screenplay

Post World War II, Joe Lampton (Harvey) leaves his small war-torn Yorkshire town for a slightly less small town and the security of a job with the local government. There, he quickly falls for Susan (Sears), the daughter of high-powered executive Mr. Brown (Wolfit), who is consequently far out of Joe's reach. That doesn't stop Joe, of course, who shamelessly pursues both Susan and the upper class life. When Brown thwarts Joe's attempts at courting his daughter by sending her away, Joe instead begins an affair with Alice (Signoret), a French amateur actress who is herself unhappy with her lot in life, particularly her husband.

Assuredly, Room at the Top was considered racy at the time of its release, particularly in comparison with American fare of the late 1950s. Yet, to the modern viewer, there is a strange paradox that occurs while watching it. By today's standards, the film is only mildly risque, so it's amusing to think of the fuss that was probably made over its British sauciness. However, knowing that it was released in 1959, it is slightly jarring to hear the word 'bitch' bandied about so nonchalantly, alongside some rather suggestive dialogue. Perhaps this is only a phenomenon felt by those, like me, who weren't yet alive in the 1950s, and have based their erroneously wholesome image of that era on the mostly profanity-free American pictures of the time.

In any case, the film is a thoughtful exploration of class issues, possessing an interesting grittiness while retaining enough humility to allow for clever conversations in which the characters hint at naughty things without being explicit. Metaphor goes a long way. My favourite line in the movie must, without a doubt, be when Susan asks if Joe likes the way she makes love. Feeling in an unkind mood, Joe replies, "It reminds me of a good set of mixed tennis."

Without spoiling too much of the film's conclusion (although the poster does a pretty good job of that on its own), I will compliment the effectiveness with which the story's message is conveyed. Essentially, it's the ultimate case of being careful what you wish for. Joe's ambition is intense but when he finally achieves his stated goal, there is great dissatisfaction - for him and for the audience. The final moments are awkward, driving home the point, unsatisfying yet inevitable.

Laurence Harvey's (pictured) is not a particularly likable performance, albeit mostly due to his character. Joe initially presents as creepy and somewhat sleazy. His immediate fascination for Susan, expressed with stony glares, appears borderline obsessive and, even though this disturbing aura soon gives way to vulnerability, he never really shakes off that awkwardness. The Academy saw fit to nominate Harvey for Best Actor, however, so what do I know?

Simone Signoret, on the other hand, is positively engaging. Her complex portrayal of the complex Alice is natural and nuanced, earning her a well-deserved Best Actress Oscar. In a tiny but effective role, Hermione Baddeley delivers a memorably eccentric performance as Alice's protective friend, receiving the film's third acting nomination for Best Supporting Actress.

1959 - Ben-Hur

On Monday night, my short film Clicked, which I wrote, directed and starred in, had its New York City premiere as part of the NewFilmmakers Spring Festival Series. A proud moment, indeed. It was quite a thrill to see it up there on the big screen along with a real audience that wasn't just the cast and crew. And there is nothing quite so satisfying to hear a room full of people laugh at something I wrote on a page four years ago. Yes, it took that long to finish the damn thing.

Somehow, it took longer to complete my short film than it did to complete what is perhaps the most well-known epic film of all time, the film to which all other epic films are compared and the first 1959 Best Picture Oscar nominee for us to discuss...

Ben-Hur
Director:
William Wyler
Screenplay:
Karl Tunberg
(based on the novel "Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ" by Lew Wallace)
Starring:
Charlton Heston, Jack Hawkins, Haya Harareet, Stephen Boyd, Hugh Griffith, Martha Scott, Cathy O'Donnell, Sam Jaffe, Finlay Currie, Frank Thring
Academy Awards:
12 nominations
11 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor (Heston)

Setting the standard for the historical epic, Ben-Hur centres on a wealthy Jew named Judah (Heston), living in first century Jerusalem. When his childhood pal Messala (Boyd) becomes a Roman tribune, their mutual love and respect quickly degrades due to their political disagreement. After an incident in which a tile on Judah's house breaks loose and injures the Governor during a parade, Messala wreaks his vengeance by sentencing Judah to be a galley slave and his mother and sister (Scott & O'Donnell) to what appears to be the dirtiest, dankest prison in all of the Roman Empire.

The rest of the story follows Judah's ups and downs as he survives his years in the galleys, including a deadly battle with pirates, gets adopted by a Roman Consul, becomes a champion chariot racer and ultimately searches for his family, all the while unaware that he is living in the midst of the messiah.

The phrase that springs to mind as being the most appropriate to describe this film is amusingly paradoxical if taken literally. But metaphorically at least, Ben-Hur is indeed "bigger than Ben-Hur". In fact, it's a testament to the picture's magnificence that it gave rise to that phrase, one that is no longer exclusively used in reference to big-budget movie-making, but is now simply attached to any phenomenon of great extravagance.

And Ben-Hur is certainly extravagant. Impressively colossal sets filled with a massive number of extras, it's hard to view the film without recognising it as spectacular. The special effects, though, are occasionally less than remarkable, but only judged by today's standards. The epic sea battle, for instance, is presented using obvious model boats, such was the norm before the age of CGI.

The now legendary chariot race sequence suffers no such fate, however, using real horses and real chariots in a purpose-built arena, creating an exciting realism. Reading of the enormous time and effort that went in to preparing and shooting this scene (almost a year of work by a thousand crew members, and several thousand more extras), it's no wonder this is considered one of cinema's greatest achievements.

But enough about the spectacle. What about the story? The most compelling element of the picture (perhaps even above all the bells and whistles) is the fascinating personal relationship between Judah and Messala. It's such a clear and concise narrative, both touching and powerful. In fact, this relationship is what keeps the viewer's interest throughout the incredibly long movie. (Even excluding the overture and intermission music, which are included on the DVD I viewed, the running time is still around three and a half hours.)

Unfortunately, once the Judah/Messala story is resolved, there is still about an hour left of the movie. Perhaps it's merely because I didn't identify with the religious elements of the plot (which are by no means minor) that I wished, to some extent, the film had finished earlier. I understand, of course, that, for Christian viewers, the final act is the most important part, but despite the coincidental timing of my viewing (Easter Sunday), I found the miraculous nature of the ending to be a little unsatisfying, irrespective of my belief about miracles. It's always far more satisfying when characters affect their own change, rather than passively receiving redemption.

Charlton Heston (pictured, with Stephen Boyd) conveys the perfect mix of authority and vulnerability as the title character, earning himself the Best Actor Oscar. Alongside him, Hugh Griffith is affable as a sheik with a gambling problem, winning the Best Supporting Actor award for himself. Not nominated but delivering worthy performances are Stephen Boyd as Judah's frenemy, Jack Hawkins as his adoptive father and the delightful Frank Thring as Pontius Pilate.

Out of 12 nominations, Ben-Hur picked up 11 awards on Oscar night, a record that has stood for over 50 years, albeit equaled twice. The only nomination it failed to convert to a win was for its screenplay, a possible result of a screen credit controversy. It also has the ominous distinction of having two posthumous Oscar winners, Sam Zimbalist for producing the Best Picture, and William A. Horning, one of the Best Art Direction recipients.

P.S. It seems somehow fitting that one of my longest reviews ever (if not, the longest) is for this film...

Best Picture of 2006

Here we are again, only a mere three and a half months since the last verdict... Sarcasm aside, I will obviously need to pick up the pace a bit. At this rate, it will take another 20 years to finish this project. Not ideal. Nonetheless, we're all having fun, right?

The nominees for Best Picture of 2006 are:

• Babel
• The Departed
• Letters from Iwo Jima
• Little Miss Sunshine
• The Queen

The five contenders for 2006 are quite an impressive bunch. All five are engaging and thought-provoking, and any of them could appropriately be named my favourite. But a five-way tie is not what this verdict is about, so...

Little Miss Sunshine is quirky and lovable, and while its climax is deeply moving, it doesn't quite match the consistent intensity of the other films. Call it the comedy curse, but such is the tendency of those who give out accolades, even insignificant ones like mine. I will remove The Queen from the running also, for similar reasons. It's not a comedy, obviously, but its simplicity, while enhancing the film's enjoyment, is overshadowed by more complex stories from the other nominees.

Babel, The Departed and Letters from Iwo Jima are all deeply absorbing and include many heart-stopping moments. Choosing a favourite from this trio is no easy task. So, through no failing of the other two, I will declare The Departed as my pick of the 2006 Best Picture competition, another match the Academy's decision.

Best Picture of 2006
Academy's choice: The Departed	Matt's choice: The Departed

Your choice:

Make your own selection by voting in the poll above. Next up, we move to the 1950s for yet another diverse selection of cinematic classics.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1959 are:

• Anatomy of a Murder
• Ben-Hur
• The Diary of Anne Frank
• The Nun's Story
• Room at the Top

If you'd like to follow along with me, check out these titles at Amazon.

2006 - Little Miss Sunshine

As we finally wind down the current year of review, don't forget to cast your vote for the next one. Just use the poll sitting on the right hand side of your screen.

The final nominee to ponder from 2006's Best Picture competition is...

Little Miss Sunshine
Directors:
Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris
Screenplay:
Michael Arndt
Starring:
Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, Steve Carell, Paul Dano, Abigail Breslin, Alan Arkin
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
2 wins, including Best Supporting Actor (Arkin) and Best Original Screenplay

The dysfunctional Hoover family is certainly unique. Dad Richard (Kinnear) is a less than successful motivational speaker with a disdain for losers. His long-suffering wife Sheryl (Collette) tries to keep the family together as best she can. When their naive daughter Olive (Breslin) is unexpectedly selected to participate in the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant in Redondo Beach, California, the family packs into their yellow and white Kombi van to make the journey. Reluctantly joining them are eldest son Dwayne (Dano) who has taken a vow of silence until he gets his pilot's license, and Sheryl's depressed brother Frank (Carell), a Proust scholar now on suicide watch. For the talent portion of the beauty contest, Olive is learning a dance routine taught to her by her Grandpa (Arkin), the crude senior member of the family who has taken up heroin in his old age because, well, why not?

Little Miss Sunshine is about as charming and quirky as independent cinema gets. The characters are subtly outrageous, finding themselves in funny and awkward situations scene after scene. From the relentlessly uncooperative vehicle to stealing a dead body from a hospital, some of the circumstances may stretch the verisimilitude beyond silly, but the sense of charm remains nonetheless. And it wouldn't be a quirky indie film without its fair share of poignancy. Michael Arndt's Oscar-winning screenplay satirically explores America's arguably unhealthy attitude towards winning and competition, and there is perhaps no greater example of this than the child beauty pageant.

There is awkwardness in Richard's obsession with losers (his 9-step motivational program is entitled Refuse to Lose), especially when he imparts his unsustainable goal of always winning to his young daughter. But the rest of the family is always waiting in the wings to encourage Olive again and remind her that giving it your best is more important and, besides, she's still a kid. While these poignant moments occasionally drift into sentimentality, albeit only slightly, directors Dayton and Faris are careful to keep it to a minimum. Perfection is found, however, in the climactic scene when Olive's family joins her up on stage for her dance routine. Both silly and heartwarming, it is one of those rarities that elicits simultaneous laughter and tears.

As is so often the case in this project (undoubtedly influenced by my choice of career), I find myself praising the cast, who all deliver brilliant performances. Paul Dano brings a touching edge to brooding teenage angst. 10-year-old Abigail Breslin is obliviously cheerful, earning herself a Supporting Actress Oscar nomination. And of course Alan Arkin's natural portrayal of a brutally honest man, too old to care about what people think of him any more, is a pure delight, winning him a well-deserved Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor.

2006 - Letters from Iwo Jima

And the Oscars have come and gone for another year. There were a couple of minor surprises - Meryl Streep winning again for the first time in almost 30 years, and the editing team of Angus Wall and Aussie Kirk Baxter scoring back-to-back wins in Film Editing. It was also nice to see Billy Crystal again. He's like a comfortable blanket. It just feels like the Oscars when he hosts. My predictions were not too embarrassing. I correctly pegged 16 winners, one better than last year, so I'll take it.

For a chuckle, take a look at the menu for my annual Oscars party.

The next nominee from the Best Picture competition of 2006 is...

Letters from Iwo Jima
Director:
Clint Eastwood
Screenplay:
Iris Yamashita and Paul Haggis
(based on the book Picture Letters from the Commander in Chief by Tadamichi Kuribayashi, edited by Tsuyuko Yoshida)
Starring:
Ken Watanabe, Kazunari Ninomiya, Tsuyoshi Ihara, Ryo Kase, Shido Nakamura, Hiroshi Watanabe, Takumi Bando, Yuki, Matsuzaki
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
1 win, for Best Sound Editing

The fierce Battle of Iwo Jima is told from a Japanese perspective, the story giving focus to two particular men, representing different extremes of military personnel. General Kuribayashi (Watanabe) is the commander, newly assigned to defend the island, and acutely aware of the near impossibility of that task against the might of the US military. His job is made all the more difficult as his subordinates begin acting ... well, insubordinately. At the other end of the spectrum is Private Saigo (Ninomiya), a reluctant conscript with a determination to survive in the face of a less than pleasant superior officer.

The story is based partly on letters written by the real General Kuribayashi and, as the title indicates, they are used as one of the main thematic devices. Characters often inexplicably find the time to sit down and write their inner most thoughts (audible to us through voice over) to their loved ones waiting at home. Oddly, that particular element of the film doesn't really resonate, seeming like an old-fashioned cliche in an otherwise excellent film.

Letters from Iwo Jima features some amazing battle scenes, and lots of them. The superb cinematography and Oscar-winning sound make for gripping viewing. Not to mention the insanely graphic visual effects that allow the camera to remain focused on a soldier as he intentionally blows himself up with a hand grenade. Combined with the emotional intensity of the situation, portrayed in riveting conversations about strategy, honour and the glory of the homeland, the result is a highly engaging entry into the war genre.

Speaking of glory, the film questions the skewed concept of honour that lingered in Japanese culture. Rather than working together to defeat the enemy, many soldiers selfishly concentrate on their own failures, preferring to die completing a mission than suffer the perceived shame of retreating, even if the retreat would enable them to assist in a potentially more useful way. I mean, it seems rather obvious that you're a lot less helpful to your army after you've committed suicide, yet for many of these men, suicide is the only honourable option under the circumstances. And suicide by their own grenades, no less. Perhaps they took the phrase, "no guts, no glory" a little too literally.

It's always somewhat difficult to understand nuance in a language that you don't speak, so there is undoubtedly something in this film that non-Japanese speakers like myself will miss. Nonetheless, Ken Watanabe's performance as the commander in chief is clearly excellent, even if you have to read his lines yourself. Not known outside his home country, Japanese boy band member Kazunari Ninomiya also delivers a superbly amiable performance as the green but smart Saigo. And for the trivia buffs, if I'm not mistaken, Letters from Iwo Jima is the only American film to win the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film.