2006 - The Departed

After a whirlwind two weeks in Sydney, I'm back in New York, gearing up for the Oscars this weekend. In preparation, I've selected my predictions for who will take home each award. Let me know how they match up with your picks.

But before this year's Oscars, we continue our look at the race from 5 years ago with another 2006 Best Picture nominee...

The Departed

Director:

Martin Scorsese

Screenplay:

William Monahan

(based on the film Infernal Affairs, written by Alan Mak and Felix Chong)

Starring:

Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Mark Wahlberg, Martin Sheen, Ray Winstone, Vera Farmiga, Anthony Anderson, Alec Baldwin, Kevin Corrigan

Academy Awards:

5 nominations

4 wins, including Best Picture and Best Director

The ultimate double cross story, The Departed follows two fresh police academy recruits who operate on separate sides of the law. Colin Sullivan (Damon) is immediately assigned to the unit investigating organised crime, but his loyalty lies with his childhood mentor Frank Costello (Nicholson), the main target of the crime unit. In contrast, Billy Costigan (DiCaprio) is given a long-term undercover assignment to infiltrate Costello's crew, while faithfully reporting his findings to Captain Queenan (Sheen) and Sergeant Dignam (Wahlberg). The two double agents spend a great deal of time attempting to discover the identity of the other, a task made all the more precarious since they are both carrying on a relationship with the same police psychiatrist, Madolyn Madden (Farmiga).

The Departed is about as tight as crime thrillers get. The tension is deliciously high throughout, a necessary consequence of such a brilliantly structured central conceit. Several scenes position the audience precariously on the edge of their seats with their eyes glued to the screen. A particularly novel instance involves a phone call in which both parties remain entirely silent. And just when you get comfortable with the suspense, traditional thriller conventions are then thrown out the window during the Shakespearean tragedy of an ending. No warning is given before characters meet their demises, each of which I still found unexpected even though I'd seen the film before, as paradoxical as that sounds.

Not only does this picture succeed as a thriller, it also explores some poignant psychological issues, the most obvious of which is the human tendency to lie. Trust issues abound among the main characters and keeping secrets is a way of life for most of them. To varying degrees, they all struggle with their deception, perhaps none more so than Madolyn, whose unfaithfulness is of a more intimate nature.

Director Martin Scorsese is in top form here, earning his first (and to date only) Best Director Oscar. He also assembled a dream cast, including the unique personas of Jack Nicholson, Mark Wahlberg and Alec Baldwin, all three delivering humour laden performances. Vera Farmiga is superb in her role, providing some much needed estrogen to an otherwise male-dominated story. And while Wahlberg's was the only Oscar-nominated performance, Matt Damon (pictured) and Leonardo DiCaprio carry the film together extremely well, despite only rarely appearing on screen at the same time.

2006 - The Queen

I am writing to you now from cloudy Sydney, where Kat and I are visiting friends and family. Despite the lack of sunshine, it is still warm here and certainly more preferable than a New York winter.

My predictions for the Oscar nominations (in the last post) resulted in a fairly average hit rate overall. However, I managed to peg eight of the nine Best Picture nominees, and scored five for five in both the Best Director and Best Cinematography categories. On the other end of the spectrum, I had selected five tunes to be nominated for Best Song and still didn't manage to correctly guess either of the two actual nominees.

We now turn our attention to another nominee from the Best Picture race of 2006...

The Queen
Director:
Stephen Frears
Screenplay:
Peter Morgan
Starring:
Helen Mirren, Michael Sheen, James Cromwell, Helen McCrory, Alex Jennings, Roger Allam, Sylvia Syms, Tim McMullan, Mark Bazeley
Academy Awards:
6 nominations
1 win, for Best Actress (Mirren)

Tony Blair (Sheen) has just been elected Prime Minister, anxious about developing a working relationship with Queen Elizabeth II (Mirren). When the world reels from the shock of Princess Diana's death, all eyes are on the Royal Family and how they will respond. The Queen's decision to mourn privately and make no public statement is met with confusion and anger by some, leaving Blair with the responsibility of managing the British people's expectations.

The story of The Queen is relatively straightforward, the majority of the action taking place over the course of one week. Unfettered by subplots, the main focus of attention is the Royal Family's reaction to the tragic death of the woman who was once a part of that family. As such, there is a sort of self-referential irony that arises whenever the characters discuss the way in which the press makes headlines out of the Royal Family's lack of response, refusing to let up about it.

For most of the picture, there appears to be a potent anti-royalty sentiment. The Queen and her family are portrayed as out of touch and often inexcusably unfeeling. Contrast that with the charming characterisation of Tony Blair, who comes across as the voice of reason, rescuing the Royal Family from their own inability to relate to their subjects.

However, by the film's climax, that sentiment is well and truly challenged, which is perhaps the script's cleverest surprise. As Blair articulates in his defense of the Queen, she has served the British people with dignity for over 50 years in a position she never asked for and is now being demonised for not showing enough grief at the death of a woman who attempted to undermine everything she believes in. Seen from that perspective, we realise how quick we were to fall into the trap laid out for us, the same trap into which the British public fell, foisted onto us by the press.

With the possible exception of Alex Jennings as Prince Charles, the actors do not attempt impersonations of the real-life characters they portray, which creates an interesting atmosphere. It's hard to buy them as the Royal Family due to the casual nature of the performances, but in another sense, it is that casualness that makes the story more accessible. After all, the film's subjects are human, just like the rest of us, so it shouldn't be a surprise that they behave informally when in the privacy of their own homes. Helen Mirren's (pictured) Oscar-winning performance is top notch, finding a way to present a well-rounded portrayal of a somewhat stoic woman who keeps emotional displays to a minimum. She is joined on screen by a very effective Michael Sheen, who is charismatic and affable as the fledgling Prime Minister.

2006 - Babel

Well, that was an unexpectedly lengthy hiatus. Late December contained a fair bit of catering work for me, plus a new job that was initially intended to be part time, but somehow took over every waking moment of my life until this past weekend. The timing couldn't have been better, though, since tomorrow morning the Oscar nominations will be announced, allowing just enough time to get my predictions in order. If you're interested, here are my somewhat educated guesses as to which films will be cited by the Academy.

The Best Supporting Actor contest was by far the toughest to figure out. It could go a number of different ways. If I were braver, I would have backed Jim Broadbent to upset Jonah Hill by taking that final spot ... but I'm not brave. And keep in mind, the Best Picture category will have somewhere between five and ten nominees. I have listed ten predictions in order of nomination likelihood. I'll let the rest of the predictions speak for themselves for now, and over the next month, leading up to the ceremony, I'll discuss the race in more detail.

Meanwhile, to kick us off for the new year, we take a look at the first of 2006's Best Picture contenders...

Babel
Director:
Alejandro González Iñárritu
Screenplay:
Guillermo Arriaga
(based on an idea by Arriaga and  Iñárritu)
Starring:
Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett, Gael García Bernal, Kôji Yakusho, Adriana Barraza, Rinko Kikuchi
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
1 win, for Best Original Score

With interconnected stories taking place across three continents in several languages, Babel is certainly diverse. In Morocco, a goat herder buys a rifle, giving it to his two young sons and instructing them to kill jackals. The boys test out the weapon's range by taking pot shots at a tour bus in the distance. Meanwhile, Richard (Pitt) and Susan (Blanchett) are vacationing in Morocco as a way to deal with the sudden death of their baby a few months ago. The trip is anything but healing, however, when Susan is unluckily shot in the shoulder while on the tour bus, the nearest hospital four hours away. In the USA, Amelia (Barraza), Richard's and Susan's nanny, is now left to take care of their two children despite needing to attend her own son's wedding in Mexico. After several unsuccessful attempts at finding someone to watch the kids, she has no option but to bring them across the border with her. In Japan, Chieko (Kikuchi), a troubled deaf-mute girl, is desperate for a sexual awakening. She is coping with the tragic suicide of her mother almost a year ago and a strained relationship with her father (Yakuhso), who, as it turns out, recently took a hunting trip to Morocco, gifting his rifle to his guide.

Babel is high-stakes drama at its most intense. From being stranded in remote Morocco without the necessary medical assistance to being stranded in the Southern Californian desert with two young children, the picture unfurls one life-changing (and life-threatening) scene after another. The urgency is conveyed expertly by the film makers, creating an edge-of-your-seat, involving cinematic experience.

In a way, all the major events that occur in the Morocco and US/Mexico stories might make Chieko's story seem frivolous. But far from being a tale of a young girl who just wants to get laid, hers is perhaps the most intimate exploration of the human condition since there is more time in her story thread to dig deep. She doesn't have the same urgent necessity that befalls the other characters in the film, who are often literally scrambling for their lives, yet her desperate need for male attention could be seen as her attempt, however misguided, to save herself from suffering the same fate as her mother.

The main theme of the film, as I see it, is the unfortunate lack of compassion we all have for other people's problems. The title seems to reference the Tower of Babel, the biblical story of how mankind was given myriad languages, thus preventing us from understanding each other. Yet in this story, language is ultimately not the barrier to understanding. While speaking different languages makes things more difficult, it's a problem easily overcome by translators (or notepads in the case of the deaf characters). The real obstacle to understanding is inconsideration. Each character is so caught up in his or her own issues that they are unable to see the problems of others, no matter how much more or less significant they may be. Despite their desperation to be understood, they rarely attempt to understand, often resulting in actions that merely blow situations unnecessarily out of proportion.

Shot on location in the four countries depicted, there is a genuineness to Babel, enhanced by the use of local actors, who are all simply amazing. Brad Pitt (pictured) delivers a superb performance in an intensely challenging role. But it was two supporting actresses who received Oscar nominations, Rinko Kikuchi and Adriana Barraza, both deservedly cited for their excellent work.

Best Picture of 1929/30

One of the things I'm enjoying about this silly little project is the opportunity to watch some of cinema's early offerings, an activity that I previously did not engage in very frequently. While it is clear to me that my tastes lie with slightly more modern filmmaking, I am always pleasantly surprised by how fascinating I find some of these vintage pictures, and even more surprised when I come across a forgotten gem. I may not have uncovered one of those gems with the current crop of films under review, but they each contained elements worth appreciating and I'm genuinely glad to have experienced them.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1929/30 are:

• All Quiet on the Western Front
• The Big House
• Disraeli
• The Divorcee
• The Love Parade

When sound was introduced to moving pictures in the late 1920s, it forced a change not only in the obvious technical aspects of filmmaking but also in the conventions that cinema used to tell a story. It took a few years for those conventions to be perfected - in fact, the style and form of cinema is constantly evolving - and the five films up for Best Picture here unfortunately show some signs of that lack of experience. Technique issues aside, however, they each manage to offer an engaging story.

The Love Parade includes many funny moments but its main flaw is that it is musically dull, rather a fatal issue for a musical. Disraeli is a fascinating study of a political figure but its wordiness can be a bit trying at times, especially in light of its mostly static staging. Prison genre pioneer The Big House possessed the potential to be far more gripping but it nonetheless includes an exciting climax.

The two nominees left to duke it out are the straightforward storytelling of The Divorcee, a personal exploration of a troubled relationship, and the epic storytelling of All Quiet on the Western Front, a personal exploration of troubled soldiers. The latter was the Academy's choice and, perhaps not coincidentally, is the only film of the five that has retained any decent recognition among modern audiences. As an epic, it is arguably the most theatrical of the nominees, but in spite of that - or perhaps because of it - it is also the most emotionally powerful. Thus, as so often is the case, the bigger film wins out. All Quiet on the Western Front shall be named my favourite Best Picture nominee from 1929/30.

Best Picture of 1929/30
Academy's choice: All Quiet on the Western Front	Matt's choice: All Quiet on the Western Front

Your choice:

I suspect many of you may not have had the chance to see all five of these films, but it seems incredibly unlikely that every Academy member sees all the nominees before they vote so I'm certainly not going to disqualify you from taking part in the irrelevant poll above. Next up, we move back to much more recent times with fine selection of modern cinema.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 2006 are:

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

Unlike the previous year of review, all of these films are very easily accessible so why not follow along with me. In fact, all five of the 2006 nominees are available to watch instantly on Amazon. Just click on the links below.

1929/30 - The Big House

I'm very happy to report that The Artist is a fantastic and innovative film, certainly worthy of its recent recognition. Thoroughly enjoyable, the film makes clever use of its genre and, let's face it, it's difficult not to be unique when you make a film in a genre that hasn't been around for 80 years. Anyway, you should do whatever you can to see The Artist. Undoubtedly, this clever film will be mentioned a lot in the coming months.

As we wind down the current year of review, don't forget to cast your vote for the next one. The poll is in the sidebar on the right hand side of your screen. But you knew that already.

The final film for us to have a look at from 1929/30's slate of Best Picture nominees is...

The Big House
Director:
George Hill
Screenplay:
Frances Marion, Joe Farnham, Martin Flavin
Starring:
Chester Morris, Wallace Beery, Lewis Stone, Robert Montgomery, Leila Hyams, George F. Marion, J.C. Nugent, DeWitt Jennings
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
2 wins, including Best Writing

Kent (Montgomery) arrives in prison for his first day of a ten year sentence for manslaughter after a drunk driving accident. His cellmates are two hot shots of the block, the intelligent and level-headed Morgan (Morris) and the uneducated murderous thug Butch (Beery). Kent struggles to fit in at first and finds himself further ostracised when he sets up Morgan to take the blame for a hidden knife. The incident results in Morgan being sent to solitary the day before he is due to be released on parole. He vows to get even with Kent and, after cleverly escaping prison, he tracks down Kent's beautiful sister Anne (Hyams). However, his desire for vengeance slowly dissipates as he falls for Anne and realises how important Kent is to her and her family.

While an engaging story, The Big House has some pacing issues. Potentially gripping dramatic conflicts are often glossed over far too quickly, occasionally leaving the feeling that we are merely watching a series of plot points. It would be far more interesting to see the characters struggle with their decisions and actions but too often they are given a less than appropriate time frame to do so.

It's actually quite a shame because the narrative otherwise holds our attention well and the climax is incredibly exciting. So, if there had been more emotional depth to the way the characters were written, this picture could really have been a classic. As it stands, however, the film still holds a place in film lore as being somewhat responsible for the popularity of the prison genre. It was one of the first of its kind to explore the harsh conditions of prison life and, in that regard, it is successfully fascinating. Nonetheless, some of the questionably superficial dialogue doesn't help its cause. When the warden tells his assistant that the inmates are planning an uprising at noon, the assistant checks his watch and exclaims, "Noon? That's one minute!"

Chester Morris (pictured, with Beery) is the stand out among the cast with his confident presence as Morgan. Wallace Beery's constant "Who? Me?" catchphrase is mostly caricature but he is appropriately cast, earning the film's only acting nomination. And Robert Montgomery is effective as the foolishly naive Kent. Both Montgomery and Morris also appeared in fellow 1929/30 Best Picture nominee The Divorcee, playing roles with interestingly similar social statuses to their characters here. Incidentally, after I downloaded this film from iTunes, I noticed they had incorrectly listed the director of The Big House as George Roy Hill (famed for helming The Sting and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) rather than its actual director, known simply as George Hill.