Tuesday, June 18, 2024

1958 - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Recently, I've had the opportunity to twice visit a cinema here in Sydney that I've written about before - the Ritz. On the weekend, I took the whole family to see a special screening of Inside Out 2 (I guess we contributed to the film's immense global box office numbers). And while I'm sure the Ritz's main revenue must come from new releases like that, it's one of the very few movie theatres in town that has a robust classic film program, including many 35mm and 70mm screenings. There's a complete Kubrick retrospective imminent, but it's the year-long Classic Matinees series that will likely see me returning often, as I did yesterday for the following film.

So let's take a look at another picture from 1958's Best Picture shortlist...


Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
Director:
Richard Brooks
Screenplay:
Richard Brooks & James Poe
(based on the play by Tennessee Williams)
Starring:
Elizabeth Taylor, Paul Newman, Burl Ives, Jack Carson, Judith Anderson, Madeleine Sherwood, Larry Gates, Vaughn Taylor
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
0 wins

The wealthy Pollitt family gathers together at their estate in Mississippi to celebrate the birthday of patriarch Big Daddy (Ives). Brick (Newman), a morose and alcoholic ex-athlete, pines for his glory days while neglecting his wife Maggie (Taylor). Consequently, the couple have no children, while Brick's brother Gooper (Carson) and his wife Mae (Sherwood) have five with another on the way. With Big Daddy's ailing health on everyone's minds, the family's long-held secrets begin to emerge.

While my usual gripe about stage adaptations is indeed applicable here, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof finds a way to be captivating despite those issues. There are plenty of long scenes heavy with dialogue, and while some of them test the audience's patience, others contain such high levels of tension that we almost don't want them to end. On the other hand, the theatricality is very apparent in the direction. Brick, in particular, is often seen staring past the camera with his brooding blue eyes as another character pontificates directly behind him. Staging like this might be a necessity in the theatre, where there is no fourth wall, but on screen, perhaps because it is so closely associated with soap operas, it can seem superficial and melodramatic.

Tennessee Williams, esteemed author of the source material, was apparently displeased with what he considered to be a watered down version of his play. Despite my experience with and love of the theatre, I was shamefully not all that familiar with the play, so while watching this film, it wasn't immediately obvious to me why Brick was experiencing such inner turmoil. Reading between the lines, I suspected that there was more to the relationship between Brick and his late buddy Skipper, but that topic of discussion was treated so vaguely, I wasn't sure if I was just imagining it. I'm not entirely sure the blame for that should be with the filmmakers, though. While 1950s Hollywood had begun exploring civil rights (as evidenced by fellow nominee The Defiant Ones), homosexuality on film was still very much in the closet, so to speak, thanks to the draconian Hays Code. And considering how greatly the characters expound on the topic of mendacity, there's an amusingly appropriate irony in the fact that a film about secrets was forced to keep one of its own.

The performances by each and every one of this accomplished ensemble are phenomenal. Everyone has their moment to shine. Paul Newman (pictured) is spectacular, expressing volumes with beautiful subtlety. Judith Anderson is also a standout as the matriarch trying to keep her family life in tact. Others of note are Jack Carson as the oft-dismissed brother fighting for his share, and Burl Ives, reprising the role of Big Daddy from the original Broadway production. Both Newman and Elizabeth Taylor garnered Oscar nominations for their lead performances. The film also snagged nods for Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay and Color Cinematography, but walked away empty-handed.

Monday, June 3, 2024

1958 - The Defiant Ones

As I begin this review of a film directed by the late, great Stanley Kramer, I am reminded of the time that Kat and I briefly lived next door to his widow, Karen Sharpe. For one year in Los Angeles, we exchanged pleasantries as we ran into each other outside our front doors, but I regret never inviting her over to hear all the stories she must have. I knew she was a former actress, having worked on a vast array of classic films and TV shows, though it wasn't until recently that I discovered she has also won a Golden Globe! Plus, I'm sure she has insight into the making of some of her husband's timeless movies (though maybe not the one reviewed below since it was made before they met). But alas, while she was always very pleasant and kind, I never heard any of those stories. There just never seemed to be enough time. Kat and I were occupied with a one-year-old child at home, and Karen seemed to remain very busy with industry events, so no dinner plans were ever made. Before long, we had another child and moved to a different neighbourhood, and then later again, we moved to a different country, so I suppose the chances of hearing those stories are even more remote now. A missed opportunity, perhaps. 

On that note, let's embark on our journey through the Best Picture nominees of 1958 by taking a look at...


The Defiant Ones
Director:
Stanley Kramer
Screenplay:
Nedrick Young and Harold Jacob Smith
Starring:
Tony Curtis, Sidney Poitier, Cara Williams, Theodore Bikel, Charles McGraw, Lon Chaney, Jr., King Donovan, Claude Akins, Lawrence Dobkin, Kevin Coughlin
Academy Awards:
9 nominations
2 wins, for Best Original Screenplay and Best Black-and-White Cinematography

When a truck transporting prisoners crashes, two of the convicts seize the opportunity to escape. African American Noah Cullen (Poitier) and Caucasian John Jackson (Curtis), chained together at the wrist, already have a sharp disdain for each other, but with a posse led by Sheriff Muller (Bikel) on their tail, they must work together to avoid capture.

Produced at the height of the US civil rights movement, The Defiant Ones makes no bones about its profound social commentary. Many of the sensitive themes remain relevant today, but I'm sure this film must have seemed downright shocking to some when it was released 66 years ago. Surprisingly, however, the story is also peppered with a great deal of humour, dry enough to never undermine the film's sincerity.

Today, of course, the ending (spoilers ahead!) would perhaps be considered overly sentimental and idealistic. Not just because it's unlikely that the two protagonists would both sacrifice their chance of escape for the other, but that it may be somewhat objectionable to wrap up a film exploring race relations with a nice neat bow, as if to suggest they've solved racism. That said, maybe the whole "hey, look, we used to hate each other but now we all get along" trope hadn't really cemented itself yet. Besides, the closing moments are genuinely heart-warming, largely attributable to the superb performances from the leads.

Sidney Poitier and Tony Curtis (pictured together) bounce off each other brilliantly, both displaying great range. The Academy must have agreed since they each garnered a Best Actor nomination. As the compassionate and professional sheriff, Theodore Bikel shines, earning himself a Best Supporting Actor nod. Also worth mentioning is Lawrence Dobkin as the sharp-tongued newspaperman. The film's fourth acting citation went to Cara Williams in her supporting role as the lonely woman with no scruples. Lastly, keep an eye out for horror icon Lon Chaney, Jr. as Big Sam.

Thursday, May 30, 2024

Best Picture of 1983

Without question, this has been the quickest year of review in this blog's recent history. It took six weeks from first review to verdict, which may not sound that impressive until you consider that the last time I completed a review year in less time was just over nine years ago!

The nominees for Best Picture of 1983 are:
  • The Big Chill
  • The Dresser
  • The Right Stuff
  • Tender Mercies
  • Terms of Endearment
As I watched the five films in contention for 1983's big prize, there were two common themes that became apparent. First, from a genre perspective, each picture could easily be classified as a character  (or characters) study. They all drill down deep into what makes people tick, and with the possible exception of The Right Stuff, relationships are at the forefront of that exploration. Second, none of these films shy away from taking their time to tell their stories. Each movie embraces a leisurely pace at some point - or in some cases, at many points - during their runtimes.

One might expect with such similarities that choosing a favourite among them would prove difficult. However, despite their connections, they remain sufficiently distinguishable, so let's get to the task at hand. First to be set aside is The Dresser, which is somewhat surprising, I suppose. As an actor myself, I certainly have an affinity for films about the theatre, but this one was ironically a tad too theatrical for my liking. Next to go is Tender Mercies, despite its wonderful Oscar-winning lead performance. I'll also lose The Right Stuff while noting how captivated I was by its epic yet personal story.

The Academy selected Terms of Endearment as its pick of the year, a worthy choice that is difficult to argue against. With the trifecta of superb acting, writing and directing, it's a classic tearjerker, deserving of its iconic status. But in my opinion - and that's what this whole blog is about, after all - The Big Chill pulls at just a few more heartstrings to tip it over the edge. A brilliant ensemble working off a charming and touching script. Consequently, The Big Chill will officially be named my favourite Best Picture nominee from 1983.
Best Picture of 1983
Academy's choice:

Terms of Endearment

Matt's choice:

The Big Chill


Your choice:


Let me know your pick of this bunch in the poll above. Next up, we move to a year in which I've previously seen only one of the contenders, and since these films are all arguably cinema classics, I'll be glad to fill in those gaps in my classic film watch history.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1958 are:
  • Auntie Mame
  • Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
  • The Defiant Ones
  • Gigi
  • Separate Tables
Stay tuned...

Friday, May 24, 2024

1983 - The Right Stuff

I'm once again back in Sydney, and with one more film to review in this review year, I clearly didn't meet the challenge I set myself a couple of posts ago, but it's still a comparatively quick turnaround for me, so I'll take it.

Our final film from the Best Picture shortlist of 1983 is...


The Right Stuff
Director:
Philip Kaufman
Screenplay:
Philp Kaufman
(based on the book by Tom Wolfe)
Starring:
Sam Shepard, Scott Glenn, Ed Harris, Dennis Quaid, Fred Ward, Barbara Hershey, Kim Stanley, Veronica Cartwright, Pamela Reed, Scott Paulin, Charles Frank, Lance Henriksen, Jeff Goldblum, Harry Shearer
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
4 wins, including Best Film Editing and Best Original Score

Air Force pilot Chuck Yeager (Shepard) joins the team of test pilots attempting to break the sound barrier, and soon becomes the first man to successfully do so. As the years pass, more pilots join the team, including Gordon Cooper (Quaid) and Gus Grissom (Ward), all trying to break each other's speed records. After the Russians launch the world's first satellite, the Space Race is on and NASA begins recruiting for its first space program. Yeager misses out, but Cooper and Grissom are selected, along with Marine John Glenn (Harris) and Navy pilot Alan Shepard (Glenn), among others. The Project Mercury astronauts are put through gruelling training, each hoping to be chosen for the first manned space flight.

I know I'm going to sound like a broken record, but The Right Stuff continues the trend of slow-moving plots that has been somewhat of a hallmark of 1983's Best Picture nominees. Though, since this picture is a sprawling epic, the story moves around in place and time quite significantly, covering a lot of disparate ground, so admittedly, the casual pace is not really noticed beyond the first act.

The film is dated a bit by its occasional electronic music (composer Bill Conti won his sole Oscar for this score) and cheesy dialogue, along with, at times, contrived and theatrical direction. While that might seem a tad unfair considering the film is four decades old, let's remember I'm comparing it to four other films from the same year, at least one or two of which avoid triteness.

I was also torn by the film's slightly shaky sense of genre. It seems clear that this is a drama, first and foremost, with the inherent gravitas that comes with any story about loading human beings into claustrophobic metal cans and thrusting them into space. But the tone frequently veers toward broad comedy, as in the near slapstick presentation of laughably inappropriate potential recruits for the space program. Or the sequence when Shepard is strapped in, awaiting lift-off, but desperately needs to pee. We see the anguish on his face and are then treated to shot after shot of people turning on hoses, pouring glasses of water, flushing toilets, and so on. It's honestly like something from Airplane (that's Flying High to my Aussie readers). Normally, I'm all about comic relief in serious stories, but I fear these segments stretch the limits of realism a bit too far, weakening the aforementioned gravitas. Then again, it's certainly entertaining, so as you watch, just be prepared to take some sharp genre turns.

Chalk up another great ensemble for 1983 Best Picture nominees. The Right Stuff features outstanding performances from the likes of Sam Shepard (who doesn't play Alan Shepard), Scott Glenn (who doesn't play John Glenn), Ed Harris and a young Dennis Quaid. The real Chuck Yeager even makes a cameo appearance as a bartender. And let's not forget the Abbott-and-Costello-like team of Harry Shearer and Jeff Goldblum (pictured, after having accidentally put on each other's jackets) who brilliantly provide much of the film's comic relief.

Finally, it would be remiss of me not to mention the picture's Australian connection. While I doubt it was actually shot there, there is a sequence that takes place in Western Australia as John Glenn makes his first orbit around the Earth. It was gratifying to hear some natural Aussie accents, including that of celebrated Indigenous Australian actor David Gulpilil, who American audiences may recognise from Crocodile Dundee.

Thursday, May 9, 2024

1983 - The Dresser

I was 13 when I first visited Universal Studios, staring in fascination and excitement at all the sights on the studio backlot tour. I listened with eagerness as the tour guide announced which shows and movies were shot in each soundstage and outdoor set, particularly thrilled by Courthouse Square from Back to the Future. So, if you'd told 13-year-old me that one day I'd shoot a TV show on that very backlot, he probably would have fainted, but tomorrow, I'm pleased to announce, that is exactly what I'll be doing. (Contrary to my previous post, I am actually still in LA, having extended my trip by one week due to the aforementioned acting job.) I'll only be on set for one day, but to be working in the same location as so many iconic films and TV shows of the past will certainly be a career highlight.

Time now to discuss another contender in the 1983 Best Picture race...


The Dresser
Director:
Peter Yates
Screenplay:
Ronald Harwood
(based on his play)
Starring:
Albert Finney, Tom Courtenay, Edward Fox, Zena Walker, Eileen Atkins, Michael Gough, Cathryn Harrison
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
0 wins

In the middle of World War II, a commanding Shakespearean actor (Finney), only ever referred to as Sir (though, presumably he has a real name), commands a repertory of players touring regional Britain. Always by his side is his long-suffering dresser Norman (Courtenay), who, while tolerating Sir's often cruel behaviour, is the only one Sir can truly depend on.

After a public outburst that shines a light on Sir's declining mental state and sees him admitted to a local hospital, the cast and crew assume that night's performance of King Lear will be cancelled, but when Sir discharges himself and shows up at the theatre, Norman convinces everyone that the show must go on.

It seems like I've been mentioning this a lot about the current batch of nominees, but The Dresser is another one that is not afraid to take its time. Being based on a stage play, it's not unexpected that there's a lot of dialogue, though for all the arguments and minor conflicts that occupy the first half of the film, it still feels like not much is happening. The main source of tension, namely whether or not Sir will be fit to actually perform, seems to ebb and flow several times without ever really escalating. We find ourselves a good hour into the story before the show finally does go on, and from here, the excitement picks up with some higher stakes, including the ominous presence of an air raid directly outside the building.

As an actor who has performed in many theatrical productions in my time, I was somewhat puzzled by the lack of realism in certain scenes, particularly considering many on the creative team behind this picture were theatre veterans. If I ever talked as loudly as Norman does backstage, the stage manager would have had my head off. But that's nothing in comparison to a later scene in which Sir exits the stage in a fit of rage, yelling at the top of his lungs, and nobody even flinches. Even the actors still on stage simply continue the play as the audience seems to have not heard a word of Sir's tirade. Quite the suspension of disbelief. On that note, the crux of the film's main relationship is itself difficult to digest. Sure, I know it's sort of the point, but it's hard to believe that Norman - and so many of the other characters, for that matter -  has such a deep love and reverence for such an ungrateful cantankerous prick.

The Shakespearean acting from all the cast is delightfully over the top as one imagines it must have been in the UK in the 1940s. However, that overwrought extravagance seeps its way into the offstage scenes, as well. Tom Courtenay is blatantly camp, and Albert Finney at times seems excessively bombastic. Then again, taking into account the larger-than-life character he is portraying, I can concede the blustery performance is justified. The two leads imbue Norman's and Sir's oscillating relationship with a tender chemistry, and both received Best Actor nominations, to boot.