1966 - Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Everyone has a film that they unconditionally adored during their childhood. You'd watch it over and over, and laugh or cry, or whatever you were meant to do, in all the right places. Now, as a fully grown adult, the nostalgia you feel for the film seems to overpower any critical thinking, and you simply won't have anyone speak ill of your favourite little filmy-wilmy. It's your film-baby. We all have one. Last night, my beautiful wife Kat introduced me to her film-baby, a whodunit farce entitled The Private Eyes. You may not have heard of it, and there's a fairly good reason for that.

It stars Tim Conway and Don Knotts as a pair of bumbling detectives attempting to solve a series of murders at an English manor. It comes complete with all the comedy cliches, including a revolving false wall and even a "Walk this way" gag. But it was made in 1980, so I guess it's all forgivable.

When the film ended, I was half expecting Kat to turn to me and say, "Hmm, it's not as good as I remember," but alas, she simply sighed with nostalgia and forced me to admit that I loved it, too.

Now, so as not to contradict my post from a couple of days ago (when I mentioned that I love ALL movies), I must confess that it had its moments. And I must have been at least a little engrossed because I still wanted to find out who, indeed, had dun it. In fact, if I were to be perfectly honest, I can definitely picture myself loving this as a child, too. It has all the elements that make children squeal with laughter. And taking a quick look at the user comments on the film's IMDb page, it's clear that there are plenty of people who have loved it since they were children, too.

Nevertheless, as much as I love my wife (and I do love her very much - I wrote her a song for our wedding!), The Private Eyes is not going to find a place in my top ten list and I'm glad to get back to the Best Picture nominees. But if you ever see her, icks-nay on the iticism-cray. Just tell her I loved it.

Now, wait 'til I show her Electric Dreams.

Back to the Best Picture race of 1966. The second film in the shortlist is...

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Director:

Mike Nichols

Screenplay:

Ernest Lehman

(based on Edward Albee's play)

Starring:

Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, George Segal, Sandy Dennis

Academy Awards:

13 nominations

5 wins, including Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress

Well, if you ever needed a reason to stop drinking, just sit down and watch Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? This intense drama follows one night at the household of George and Martha, a couple with some issues to sort out. He's a history professor. She's the daughter of the president of the university. And she's not subtle about her disdain for her husband, summed up beautifully in lines like, "If you existed, I'd divorce you." After coming home a little tipsy from a faculty party, they for some reason prepare for guests at 2 o'clock in the morning. The guests arrive in the form of Nick, a newly appointed biology professor, and his wife, Honey. All four go from tipsy to drunk to completely shit-faced in the space of a few hours. And unfortunately, the younger couple inadvertently become pawns in the game of tit-for-tat spitefulness that George and Martha have going on. Although, Nick and Honey aren't entirely free of their own issues.

The whole drama is absolutely captivating. It's real fly-on-the-wall stuff. These characters at first seemed completely devoid of any redeeming qualities, at each other's throats constantly, but by the end, there is a certain empathetic sadness that makes the whole story rather heartbreaking.

When the film started, it almost seemed as if Elizabeth Taylor was a bit over the top, but once it becomes evident that she's a bitter, snarky alcoholic... well, how else could she play it? Richard Burton is perfectly understated, until he doesn't need to be any more. And George Segal is so far from Jack Gallo, it's uncanny. Rounding out the cast is the impressive Sandy Dennis (pictured) as the drunkest woman ever to appear on celluloid. All four were nominated for acting Oscars, but only the two ladies won. Poor old Richard Burton - seven nominations without a win. Topped (or should that be bottomed) only by Peter O'Toole with eight. But Pete's still alive, so you never know.

It's the script and the performances that really shine in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? There are no fancy special effects or spectacular visual elements. Just good old-fashioned drama. Not to take anything away from director Mike Nichols, who obviously steered everybody in the right direction. The result is another great inspirational film. (You're all going to get sick of me calling every film inspirational, aren't you?)

So, two down, three to go, before the first verdict. 463 to go before the end...

1966 - A Man for All Seasons

Last night, I had a meeting with an actor's agent here in New York. It went well. I performed a monologue. We had a nice chat. And then it was over...

I know I shouldn't expect anything to happen immediately. Perhaps I'm just too impatient. But in my head are visions of agents falling to their knees, waving contracts and begging me to sign with them on the spot. Surely, that's not an impossible scenario ... Okay, shutup.

In any case, I was on the subway back home, in the midst of my failing attempt to ignore the grubby 11-year-old girl who seemed to be under the mistaken impression she was auditioning for a pole dancing club, when I began to fill my mind with great scenes from great movies. And I realised the other reason for beginning this project - I want to be in a great scene from a great movie. Not that this project will somehow lead me to that goal. I guess I just expect that there will be lots of great scenes for me to watch in the coming months.

And I wasn't wrong. Today, I sat down to watch the very first film of the project, which was...

A Man for All Seasons

Director:

Fred Zinneman

Screenplay:

Robert Bolt

(adapted from his stage play)

Starring:

Paul Schofield, Wendy Hiller, Leo McKern, Robert Shaw, Orson Welles, Susannah York, John Hurt

Academy Awards:

8 nominations

6 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor

Part period piece, part legal drama, A Man for All Seasons is like the lovechild of Merchant-Ivory and David E. Kelley. It tells the story of Sir Thomas More, a 16th-century goody-two-shoes who resigns the post of Lord Chancellor of England rather than accept King Henry VIII's self-appointed title of Supreme Head of the Church of England. Poor old Thomas is then persecuted like crazy, but being a wily lawyer himself, he's always got a clever answer for every charge they throw at him.

Tommy sticks by his morals, choosing to believe that nobody can usurp the Pope's authority. Besides, he knows that Henry's new church was borne of lust, rather than religion. If Catherine of Aragon was half as sexy as Anne Boleyn, none of this would have happened. In fact, if Catherine had given birth to a boy that survived, that would have been enough. But, no, Henry wanted a divorce and he wasn't going to let a trivial thing like religion get in his way. And Tommy just didn't agree with that. He didn't disagree, mind you. Because that would have been treason. He just didn't take the Oath. Clever man, see.

I found this film genuinely gripping, particularly the final courtroom scene. Great start to my project. Paul Schofield is superb as Thomas More. So subtle. So exciting to watch. A fat, slovenly Orson Welles appears as a fat, slovenly Cardinal Wolsey, looking like an over-ripe tomato in his red robes. John Hurt's hair and moustache seemed a little out of place, though. (That's him holding the goblet.) I didn't think there were any hippies in the 16th century. But with a character called Richard Rich, what can you expect? And what a delight for 70s British sitcom fans to see Yootha Joyce (best known as Mildred Roper) pop up in a couple of scenes. I kept waiting for her to scream, "George!"

Such a witty script by Robert Bolt, too. In one sentence, he can express moral fortitude and insult the entire nation of Wales, without batting an eyelid. And then he can make you feel the desparation in lines like "I wish rainwater was beer." However, there is still the unfortunate misinterpretation that inevitably rears its ugly head whenever older movies make use of words that have redefined themselves over the years. Thomas exclaims to his daughter, "You're very pensive," to which she replies, "You're very gay." We all know what she means, but amusing, nonetheless... in a completely puerile way.

So, the first film is out of the way, and I must say, I'm beginning to really get excited about this project. A Man for All Seasons was just the kind of inspiration I was referring to in my previous post. A well-made, exquisitely acted, gripping film. Makes me love movies even more. Stay tuned...

Fade In...

After much deliberation on how to introduce this ridiculous project, I have come to the conclusion that said project is not merely ridiculous, but also, for the most part, arbitrary and irrelevant. For all intents and purposes, this project has very few intents or purposes. In simple terms, I plan to sit down and watch (not in one sitting, obviously) all 465 films that have been nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture (although, by the time I am finished this project, that number will have increased to 485).

I could rattle off some cliches about how many times I've been inspired by the art of cinema and, though that may be true, I don't really believe that's why I'm doing this. Or I could pretend to be disillusioned by the Academy's choices over the years, condemning their politically and financially fuelled corruption, and so, off I go, heroically righting those wrongs by awarding my own Best Picture. But, the truth of the matter is I don't actually care enough about the winners to lay claim to any disillusionment. Despite my fanatical love of the Oscars, I'm perfectly aware of the innate subjectivity of the process. Besides, I love movies. All movies. Even the bad ones. (Yep, I enjoyed Ishtar... and Waterworld.) Consequently, I find it difficult to come up with an example of a Best Picture winner that I've hated. Which is not to say that I haven't preferred another movie over the eventual winner, just that I've never really felt that any winning film was so devoid of cinematic quality that Oscar should hang his golden head in shame.

So, why then?

Perhaps it's just because I've always bemoaned the fact that I don't watch enough classic cinema.

Perhaps it's because I have the spectacularly misguided fantasy that this will somehow make me famous.

Perhaps it's simply a gigantic procrastination, providing me with an excuse to avoid the things I really ought to be doing for my career, like writing an indie screenplay, or mounting a production of Othello.

Perhaps it's something to occupy my currently unemployed days as yet another struggling actor in New York City. After all, I like making lists and crossing things off them. A real sense of achievement. And once a task is set, it doesn't really matter how utterly useless it is. As long as you get it done, you've achieved something, right? ... Right?

Or perhaps, just perhaps, it is that cliche about movies being inspirational. In all honesty, I do genuinely get a shiver of excitement when the lights go down before the movie starts. And it's not a rare occasion that I exit the cinema having been truly moved. And perhaps the greatest self-referential irony of all is that the reason I even contemplated this project in the first place was as a direct result of seeing Julie and Julia last week. Probably not destined to be a classic, but it did what every film should aspire to do - it inspired its viewers. (Well, it inspired me at least, but I figured it would sound a tad narcissitic if I said every film should aim to inspire me specifically.) So, I guess you could say this is a blog inspired by a film inspired by a blog. It's already beginning to sound like a Charlie Kaufman screenplay.

So, that's it, then. The reason I'm embarking on this insane journey is because of cinema's power to inspire... And probably the procrastination thing.

Now, on to the practicalities...

I had considered doing the whole thing chronologically, but in the interest of giving the project a bit of variety, I thought better of it. So, instead, I will jump back and forth through time, like a movie-blogging Marty McFly. However, I will always watch all nominees from a particular year before I move on to another year, thereby making it possible to deliver my own verdict on the best of that year (or, more accurately, my favourite of that year). Plus, in order to be able to make a fair comparison, I will watch every single movie on the list, regardless of whether I have seen them before this project began.

I'm giving myself the arbitrary deadline of the 83rd Academy Awards ceremony, which is as yet unscheduled, but will undoubtedly take place in late February or early March of 2011. By my calculations, that means I will need to view roughly six movies each week.

I also encourage you to take part as well. I will announce ahead of time which awards year I will be moving on to next, including a list of the movies in contention that year. So feel free to join in the movie-watching bonanza and give your own opinions on my verdict.

I will be starting with the nominees from the year 1966, a choice arrived at solely for practical reasons - four of the five nominees are available to watch instantly on my Netflix account.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1966 are:

Alfie

A Man For All Seasons

The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming

The Sand Pebbles

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Let the movie marathon begin...

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Update - January 11, 2010

After a valiant attempt at sticking to the timeframe mentioned in this inaugural post, I have slipped by the wayside and it is now becoming increasingly impossible to meet the deadline. However, Matt vs. the Academy is most definitely still alive and kicking. It is just currently deadlineless. As explained in the Jan. 11, 2010 post, the Best Picture nominees will continue to be watched and enjoyed, just at a more leisurely pace.