1956 - Giant

An interesting thing is happening as I review the films from 1956. As I mentioned previously, along with the Best Picture nominees, I am also watching the nominees from the Supporting Actress category for a Smackdown to be posted this Sunday at StinkyLulu's blog. The interesting thing is that I seem to be enjoying the supporting actresses' films more than the ones nominated for Best Picture. Written on the Wind and Baby Doll, for example, had me engaged on a deeper level than any of the Picture nominees so far. Not that I've specifically disliked any of them. I guess, as an actor, I'm simply bound to be drawn to films that contain more Oscar worthy performances.

Interestingly, the next film in Matt vs. the Academy, is not only the sole film to appear on both the Best Picture and Best Supporting Actress nominations list, but it also stars actors from the two films I mentioned above, namely Rock Hudson from Written on the Wind and Carroll Baker from Baby Doll. Coincidence? Probably. The film in question, which I viewed today, is...

Giant

Director:

George Stevens

Screenplay:

Fred Guiol and Ivan Moffat

(based on the novel by Edna Ferber)

Starring:

Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean, Carroll Baker, Chill Wills, Mercedes McCambridge, Dennis Hopper

Academy Awards:

10 nominations

1 win, for Best Director

As its title suggests, Giant is a big film about a big family living in a big state. The Benedicts are a wealthy Texan family with acres of ranch land. When the head of the family, Bick, brings home his new bride from Maryland, things become a bit rocky. Leslie is a bit of a feminist and Texan men are not in the mood for changing their traditions. Ranch handyman Jett is somewhat unpopular, but when Bick's sister dies, leaving a small piece of land to Jett, Bick can only stand by as Jett discovers oil, becoming wealthier than the Benedicts ever could have imagined. Time goes by and Bick and Leslie have three children, but it's his only son that Bick dotes over, expecting him to take over the ranch one day. But Jordy has other plans. Not only does he want to become a doctor, but he also falls for a Mexican-American woman, both cause for his father's disdain.

At well over three hours long, Giant certainly lives up to its name. It is a saga. But it's an intimate saga. Although the ranch is massive, the people living on it are still subject to the same human condition. They love, they fear, they fight, they learn. Director George Stevens is constantly obscuring his characters from view, behind newspapers or in darkness, as if to highlight how small they become amongst such a grand landscape.

Perhaps also it is symbolic of how hidden they are from each other. The main couple, Bick and Leslie, have opposing ideals. He is a traditionalist, she a progressive. Bick lives in a world where men are men and women are not. Leslie, with her feminism and humanitarianism, doesn't seem to fit in, but even she has her own prejudices. For instance, when her daughter shows an interest in ranching, Leslie is downright against it, preferring her to pursue a more refined career, one more suitable for a lady.

The film explores the dichotomy between our plans for the future and the reality. Bick, especially, struggles with letting go of tradition in a changing world. He is denied his vision of passing on the reins (literally) to his son. To add insult to injury, his ex-handyman becomes the richest man in Texas. In the end, however, he learns to adjust. Where once he supported the segregation of Mexican-Americans, he now stands up for their right to eat in the same diner as everyone else.

For its righteous themes, however, Giant contains a great deal of seemingly unnecessary fistfighting. As was standard in those days, throwing a punch seemed to be the only respected way to resolve an issue. I thought perhaps Bick had finally learned his lesson when he felt ashamed after a fight, but his shame was not from resorting to violence, but that he lost. He is buoyed by his wife, who even describes the altercation as "glorious", proud that her husband stood up for a worthy cause. It's as if to say, "Well, you may not have won, but at least you threw the first punch." Really? Is this sort of caveman attitude to be glorified? Or perhaps I misunderstood and the whole point was to represent the flaws in this kind of masculinity, especially in Texas.

James Dean, in his final role, exudes a unique energy, enough to garner him his second posthumous Oscar nomination. Elizabeth Taylor gives a mature performance beyond her years. She was just 23 years old when the film was shot, one year younger than Carroll Baker, who played her daughter. We are also treated to an impressive (and very young) Dennis Hopper as Jordy.

Only one more picture from 1956 to go, the longest one yet. Longer, in fact, than the first two 1956 nominees I watched put together!

1956 - The Ten Commandments

Braving Saturday night's miserable weather here in New York, Kat and I enjoyed a tasty meal in Little Italy before heading to an improv show. Not just any improv show, mind you. This one comprised of two stars of television's Whose Line Is It Anyway?, namely Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood. As an improviser myself, I always feel a tinge of envy watching other performers bring the house down, and these two were certainly no exception. It was positively inspirational to be witness to their quick-witted minds. The highlight is their grand finale, a backwards alphabet scene. Not so spectacular, I hear you say, but before the scene begins, stage hands littered the floor with 100 mousetraps. The scene is then performed with Colin and Brad barefoot and wearing blindfolds. Nothing short of hilarious. They have an extensive list of tour dates around the country, so definitely check them out if they come to your town. Tour dates are on their website.

Sunday was a lazier day, despite the weather being much more agreeable. In the afternoon, we had the chance to watch the epic that is the next nominee from 1956's Best Picture race...

The Ten Commandments

Director:

Cecil B. DeMille

Screenplay:

Æneas MacKenzie, Jesse L. Lasky, Jr., Jack Gariss, Fredric M. Frank

(based on three separate novels by J.H. Ingraham, A.E. Southon, Dorothy Clarke Wilson)

Starring:

Charlton Heston, Yul Brynner, Anne Baxter, Edward G. Robinson, Yvonne De Carlo

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

1 win, for Best Special Effects

A film of literally Biblical proportions, The Ten Commandments oddly begins with the director himself delivering a personal introduction. Stepping out from behind a majestic curtain, Mr. DeMille, with no hint of irony, announces just how important the following presentation is. After his absurd yet sincere plea for his motion picture to be considered alongside the Bible itself, the opening credits continue the grandstanding before the film finally begins.

Little baby Moses is reluctantly abandoned by his mother, who fears for his safety when the Pharaoh decrees that all Hebrew babies shall be killed. With a stroke of luck, it is the Pharaoh's own daughter who discovers the child, taking him in as her own to live the life of an Egyptian prince. Thirty years later, Moses is being considered for the throne along with his cousin, Rameses, who feels a sense of entitlement on account of the fact he is the current Pharaoh's son. With the throne also comes the hand of the beautiful Nefretiri, who has already given her heart to Moses, more fodder for Rameses' dislike of him. Moses' successful construction of a new city, partly attributed to his respect for the Hebrew slaves, wins the favour of the Pharaoh. However, before he is offered the throne, his true identity as the son of Hebrew slaves is revealed, forcing him to be ejected from Egypt. After a chat with the Almighty himself, Moses realises his destiny as the man to free the Hebrew people from slavery.

I am compelled to admit that I had a little difficulty with The Ten Commandments. Although I found the monumentally epic nature of the film entertaining, I struggled to keep my personal views on religion at bay. Perhaps if it were any other story, I may not have cared so much, but I guess I took exception at DeMille's own claims of authenticity. In his defense, there is a great deal of attention to detail put in to the historical accuracy of the time period, but to claim to have any more than one source for the religious elements of the story is simply ludicrous. Plus, at the risk of offending any Biblical inerrantists, if this were any other story, we'd all be commenting on the film's plot holes.

Okay, now that I've got that out of the way, I freely confess that the film's enormity is very impressive. Being a Cecil B. DeMille picture, we are graced with several awe-inspiring sequences involving thousands of extras and grand locations. Some of the film was, in fact, shot in Egypt using colossal sets built into the sweeping desert landscapes. Even the Oscar-winning special effects, which are fairly unconvincing by today's standards, must have been astonishing to a 1950s audience.

There is no denying, of course, that the story is a classic one - a tale of good versus evil with heroes and villains galore. Moses is almost portrayed as an action hero, diving to save an old woman from a crushing block of stone or swooping in to protect young Midian women from Amalekite bullies. His perfectly windswept hair constantly appears as though he just stepped out of the salon. The stark white, not grey, beard of old Moses, however, is perhaps a little laughable. Nonetheless, his words - and everyone else's, for that matter - are very poetic. There's a classic lyrical quality to the dialogue that creates quite a distinguished feel.

Yul Brynner, in opposition to the pantomime quality he brought to The King and I, shows versatility here in an intensely restrained performance as Rameses. Still, the Academy chose to award him the Best Actor Oscar for playing a Siamese King, rather than an Egyptian Pharaoh. And that's Charlton Heston's own son playing the baby Moses.

1956 - Friendly Persuasion

Cupcakes. Mmm, cupcakes. Kat and I have discovered a New York chain of cupcake stores (now all over the country) called Crumbs. If there's one in your town, stop reading this and go there immediately. Just take a look at their website, if you need convincing. The original store is directly across the road from where I'm currently rehearsing, which, although convenient, is dangerously tempting.

In fact, after rehearsal last night, I picked up a White Hot Chocolate and a Caramel Apple to share with my darling wife as we watched the next film on 1956's Best Picture nominee list...

Friendly Persuasion

Director:

William Wyler

Screenplay:

Michael Wilson

(based on the novel by Jessamyn West)

Starring:

Gary Cooper, Dorothy McGuire, Anthony Perkins, Richard Eyer, Robert Middleton, Phyllis Love, Peter Mark Richman, Marjorie Main

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

The Birdwells are a Quaker family living in Civil War Indiana. Being Quakers, they live a simple existence, foregoing such pleasures as music, dancing and using the word, "you". But the world is changing and these forbidden activities become more and more intriguing, especially to Jess, the Birdwell patriarch, who is tempted to purchase an organ much to his wife's dismay. The ultimate test of their faith, however, comes when Union soldiers request the help of Quaker men in the fight against the Confederacy. The Birdwells' eldest son, Josh, is particularly tormented as he struggles to reconcile his feelings of responsibility with his faith's principle of pacifism.

Friendly Persuasion is a pleasant enough film. Nothing ground breaking, but pleasant. A pleasant mix of humour and sincerity. A pleasant slate of characters who are interesting and conflicted. A pleasant director who had already won two Oscars and would take his third in just a few more years. See? Pleasant. All the right ingredients for a satisfying cinematic experience. And it is satisfying. Which really should be enough, but perhaps alongside the vast catalogue of brilliant films at the heart of this project, Friendly Persuasion simply becomes shadowed by their greatness.

Maybe it's because more than half the film is occupied by comic relief. If it were an out-and-out comedy, this may not matter so much, but the style of comedy is that of a serious film lightening the mood after a dramatic scene. Except the dramatic scenes in this film mostly appear at the end, which results in a large portion of the film containing scene after scene of comic relief without a break. It's like it needed, dare I say it, some dramatic relief.

Don't misconstrue me, however. The comedy is entertaining and well-played. Pleasant, you might even say. Gary Cooper's portrayal of Jess with all his awkwardness is especially joyful to witness. But as amusing as it is to watch him explain to his wife his purchase of a musical instrument, the potential for emotion clearly sits with the Quakers' torment as they struggle to remain non-violent in a land rife with war. A young Anthony Perkins (pictured), whose character Josh carries this side of the story, delivers a particularly commendable performance.

At first, the constant use of the word "thee" is a tad distracting, but once you become acclimated, it becomes quite natural. But there's still the issue of its grammatical usage. Perhaps it's because I'm in the midst of rehearsing a Shakespeare play that I recognised the script's misuse of the word. Sometimes when they say, "thee", they should be saying, "thou". However, upon further investigation, this was apparently how Quakers used the word, so it's not the screenwriter's mistake after all.

Speaking of the screenwriter, this film and its script became embroiled in a fascinating period in the history of the Academy Awards. In 1956, scribe Michael Wilson was blacklisted as a result of the McCarthyism hysteria gripping the nation at the time. Consequently, his name did not appear in the film's opening credits and, according to Academy by-laws, he was ineligible to be nominated for an Oscar. The screenwriting achievement itself was eligible, however, and indeed, received a nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay without Wilson's name attached. The final ballot sent to Academy members only included the other four nominees, so Friendly Persuasion, despite having six official nominations, only had the opportunity to win five. Nonetheless, since it didn't succeed in any of the other five categories, it seems unlikely it would have won the Screenplay award. In 1996, Wilson's credit was restored to the film and, in 2002, the Academy reinstated his name into official nomination records.

1956 - The King and I

When searching the blogosphere for similar projects to Matt vs. the Academy, I came across StinkyLulu, who is pursuing a similar goal to mine. We are differentiated only by the awards category that bears our focus, StinkyLulu choosing to turn his attention to the Best Supporting Actress nominees. Each month is dedicated to the nominees of a different year, culminating in a Supporting Actress Smackdown, which involves guests rating each performance. The numbers are tallied and a winner is announced. The site is well worth a gander.

As you may have deduced by now, I will be one such Smackdown guest for the month of October, which will see the Supporting Actress nominees from 1956 under review. Hence, I have chosen that same year for my next review of Best Picture nominees. As it happens, though, only one film appears on both shortlists, so I will have a few extra movies to watch over the next few days. I will remind you, lovely readers, when the Smackdown is posted (scheduled for November 1) and, no doubt, I will take part in future Smackdowns too.

Today, the first of the Best Picture nominees from 1956 took a ride in my DVD player...

The King and I

Director:

Walter Lang

Screenplay:

Ernest Lehman

(based on the stage musical by Rodgers & Hammerstein)

Starring:

Yul Brynner, Deborah Kerr, Rita Moreno, Martin Benson, Terry Saunders

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

5 wins, including Best Actor

Based on the popular Rodgers & Hammerstein Broadway musical, which was in turn based on the novel Anna and the King of Siam by Margaret Landon, which was in turn based on the memoirs of the real Anna Leonowens, The King and I has undoubtedly lost some of its historical accuracy through each fictionalised interpretation. But historical accuracy is probably not the main concern of a movie musical as charmingly saccharine as this one.

A schoolteacher from the United Kingdom of the mid-19th century travels with her son to a vastly different kingdom, that of Siam. She has been invited by the King to teach his many children the ways of the English, both language and customs. She quickly discovers, however, that the King is a stubborn and arrogant man who could do with a few lessons himself. In that cloying style that only musicals from the 1950s can get away with, Anna attempts to soften the King's heart and, in doing so, comes to a few realisations herself.

As with most musicals of this era, The King and I is clearly more about escapism than anything else. It's good old-fashioned family entertainment. Music, dancing, extravagant sets and costumes. Not that it doesn't attempt to offer some thought-provoking themes. It's just that those serious issues, like sexism and slavery, while not presented insincerely, tend to be somehow undermined by all the schmaltz.

We also encounter what can easily be perceived as an arrogant disrespect of another culture. The Siamese traditions are portrayed as inferior to those of Western culture. Buddhism is horribly misrepresented. Not to mention that the casting director seems to be unaware of the difference between Asians and Latinos. (In their defense, I guess Thai actors were hard to come by in 1950s Hollywood.) But all that seems to blissfully slip into the nether reaches of your mind as you marvel at all of the beautiful colours and movements. In fact, the sequence that most perverts the beliefs of Buddhists happens to also be the most stunning visual feast of the film - a cleverly entertaining ballet adaptation of Uncle Tom's Cabin, patronisingly yet adorably named Small House of Uncle Thomas.

Despite its sentimentality, The King and I remains an engaging story with some delightful music. Deborah Kerr and Yul Brynner both received acting nominations, the latter taking home the prize for his portrayal of the King - a more cartoonish Oscar-winning performance you'll be hard pressed to find. If it were in anything other than a 1950s musical, it may not have been so charming. As it stands, however, Brynner's inclination towards melodrama not only fits right in but actually adds to the enjoyment of this awkwardly innocent yet extravagant musical.

Best Picture of 2001

For the first time, I am as yet undecided as I sit down to write the verdict. Rather confusingly, my enjoyment level for most of these films shifted since first seeing them. Since the films themselves have not changed, I can only assume that my prior expectations infiltrated my open-mindedness. Two of the films, which I had previously held in high regard, suffered from this cruel phenomenon, while a third emerged with a more favourable opinion than I had originally placed upon it. Consequently, I'm in a bit of a quandary, and I will sort this mess out as I write.

The nominees for Best Picture of 2001 are:

A Beautiful Mind
Gosford Park
In The Bedroom
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Moulin Rouge

Most years, the slate of films nominated for Best Picture are quite diverse, but for some reason, it seems particularly evident for 2001. Comparing an epic fantasy with an internal drama is difficult at the best of times, but adding a musical gala, a period satire and a powerful biopic to the mix is just ludicrous. So, how to separate them...

Firstly, let me consider Moulin Rouge. On the plus side, this visual and musical feast is entertainment at its purest. Fun and beautiful. Conversely, there is a certain lack of substance underneath all that eye and ear candy. Similarly, The Fellowship of the Ring is a magical fantasy evoking awe and wonderment, but for all the spectacle, the emotional content is somewhat superficial. However, I won't preclude either of these films from victory just yet.

Then we come to Gosford Park, which is the film that I found more satisfying the second time around. A clever and insightful take on the British class system. And being a period piece, it is not without its own visual grandeur. Also impressive is its seamless combination of period drama and murder mystery.

Likewise, A Beautiful Mind mixes a dramatic character study with several thriller elements. However, on second viewing it loses some of its impact, a fate that also befalls In the Bedroom. Despite an intense mood of suspense and tension, it failed to live up to the expectations I developed from my first viewing of it. On reflection, though, my slightly lower opinion (and it is only slight) of these two films on their repeat viewings somehow seems irrelevant since the purpose of this project is to see these films in the light in which they would originally have been seen. With that in mind, perhaps it should be my initial response to each of these movies that should take precedence. But that also seems a bit bizarre.

Right, well... I don't think I'm any closer to making a decision after all that. I wish Memento had been nominated. But, alas, I must forge ahead. So, what to do, what to do...

Thinking about how I feel about naming each one my favourite, Moulin Rouge seems to be the only one that definitely doesn't sound right to me. So, let's knock that out. I've seriously considered each of the other four, however, so now what? In the Bedroom seems too small to be named the best, but that's just callous. Granted, it lacks some of the impressive production values of the others but it makes up for that in its thick subtext. Still, for lack of a better reason, I'll toss it aside as well. And I suppose Gosford Park kinda falls into that category as well.

Hmm, I didn't like doing that. I liked both of those films a great deal. But enough of the past. Onwards and upwards. Of the final two, The Fellowship of the Ring is the most spectacular, but I think, because of its one-dimensional characters, I just didn't feel as deep a connection with it as A Beautiful Mind. So, it seems I'm selecting the same film that the Academy chose. I was not expecting that. My favourite Best Picture nominee from 2001 shall be A Beautiful Mind.

Best Picture of 2001
Academy's choice: A Beautiful Mind	Matt's choice: A Beautiful Mind

Your choice:

Whew, that was gruelling. I'll be very interested to hear everyone else's opinions on this year. I'm still unsure of my pick so I'm looking forward to seeing which film leads the poll. For our next review, we will be heading to 1956, a year with quite a few grand films in competition.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1956 are:

Around the World in 80 Days
Friendly Persuasion
Giant
The King and I
The Ten Commandments

Plus, not only will I be watching the Best Picture nominees, I will also be making some guest comments on another blog - one which is not dissimilar to this one - on the Best Supporting Actress nominees of the same year. But more on that next time...