1927/28 - 7th Heaven

Dear Commuter,

I understand that you are in a rush to get home or to your girlfriend's place or to the bar. I fully appreciate that you have been waiting on the platform for a good five and a half minutes before this train arrived. I even empathise with you for the cold temperature you must endure in this badly ventilated subway. But is it not possible to step aside for three more seconds to allow me to exit the carriage before you elbow your way inside? Must I squeeze between you and your fellow impatient commuters in order to avoid the avalanche of limbs? Is it really that important that you are the first one to board? I mean, the train is not going to leave without you. In fact, if you made way for the exiting passengers, we would be out of your way a lot sooner. Instead, you force us to file out one at a time, allowing the possibility for the weakest among us to be caught up in your stampede and fail to exit altogether. Poor thing.

Humbly yours,

An Exiting Passenger

Last night, I watched the silent classic and nominee for Best Picture of 1927/28...

7th Heaven

Director:

Frank Borzage

Screenplay:

Benjamin Glazer

(based on the play by Austin Strong)

Starring:

Janet Gaynor, Charles Farrell, Ben Bard, Albert Gran, David Butler

Academy Awards:

5 nominations

3 wins, including Best Director and Best Actress

Chico (Farrell) is a poor Parisian sewer worker who dreams of a better life. For some reason, his heart is set on becoming a street washer, which I guess is one step up from the sewers, so who am I to argue? Diane (Gaynor) is a poor Parisian prostitute who dreams of a life without her abusive big sister. One day, as Diane endures yet another beating, Chico intervenes to help her. Then, when the cops begin rounding up all the prostitutes and taking them away, Chico once again saves the day by claiming that Diane is his wife. In order to keep up the ruse, Chico reluctantly allows Diane to live with him and, like all good romance stories, the fake love slowly grows into genuine affection. However, World War I forces them apart again as Chico is called into the French army. Despite their separation, they maintain a strong connection as they wait to be reunited.

7th Heaven almost defies categorisation since it borrows from several genres. Mostly, it is a drama, but there are a few slapstick comedy sequences thrown in for good measure, and later, once the war has begun, it becomes an epic special effects-laden action flick. At its heart, though, it is a love story, plain and simple. Our two protagonists have struggled in their lives and they learn from each other how to improve themselves. Diane learns the art of optimism and Chico finally abandons his atheism. Yes, these messages of faith and confidence are somewhat shallow, especially the religious elements, but the film is just so darn cute that it somehow gets away with it.

The war sequence is particularly engrossing and it seems no expense was spared in the production of those scenes. Even by today's standards, the explosions and voluminous extras are quite spectacular. It even took me a while to figure out the hundreds of cars driving towards the front were only models.

A large part of the film's aforementioned cuteness is thanks to Janet Gaynor, who is simply adorable as the meek and innocent Diane. As almost everyone around her succumbs to the melodramatic emoting that is fairly standard for the silent era, she manages to remain subtle, making smart use of stillness. Also worth noting is Albert Gran, who creates a wonderfully endearing comedic character.

1927/28 - The Racket

New York is cold! As I write this, it is slightly below zero outside. That's zero degrees Celcius, although it might as well be zero degrees Fahrenheit. In fact, taking into account the wind chill factor, it's probably zero degrees Kelvin. It's not snowing tonight, but New York experienced its first snow of the season a few days ago, which looked marvelously romantic as I watched it float delicately against the bright neon lights of 42nd Street ... until I stepped outside, when it immediately lost all its romance by smacking me in the face, melting on my nose and dribbling down the back of my neck. Conclusion: snow is better experienced from indoors.

Today, I rugged up and watched one of the original Best Picture nominees from Oscar's freshman outing...

The Racket

Director:

Lewis Milestone

Screenplay:

Bartlett Cormack

(based on his play)

Starring:

Thomas Meighan, Louis Wolheim, Marie Prevost

Academy Awards:

1 nomination

0 wins

It is perhaps a stroke of fortune that I began this project when I did, because had I embarked on this journey a little over five years ago, the silent gangster film The Racket would have been near impossible to get a hold of. In fact, the picture had been considered lost for decades until a print was uncovered in the vast personal collection of the film's producer, Howard Hughes, leading to a restoration that was eventually completed just a few years ago when it first aired on TCM.

The story begins with organised crime boss Jack Scarsi (Wolheim) attempting to scare incorruptible police captain James McQuigg (Meighan) out of town. McQuigg tries to shut Scarsi and his crew down, but since they own almost everyone in the justice department, McQuigg is thwarted at every turn. Finally fed up with McQuigg's constant badgering, Scarsi orchestrates his transfer to a distant and quiet precinct where he can be no nuisance. But when Scarsi's brother is nabbed for a hit and run in this new precinct, McQuigg uses this as leverage and the tides begin to turn.

Like most people, I don't often watch silent movies and, when I do, it's probably Chaplin or some other slapstick fare. So, I was pleasantly surprised at The Racket's success in holding my attention. More than that, it was genuinely engrossing. Since there is no sound, I shouldn't be surprised that the filmmakers would concentrate on the visuals, but director Lewis Milestone is particularly smart in his use of striking images and evocative framing, foreshadowing many of the film's successors in the crime genre.

The titles delightfully exploit every stereotype of 1920s gangster slang and, while it may not be precisely how they actually spoke, it sure is fun to hear a man call his enemy a "dumb harp" or a "big balloon". It was also especially amusing to see a nightclub singer using a bullhorn. I guess I hadn't contemplated how singers made themselves heard before the advent of microphones. Finally, in a fascinating coincidence, the character played by Marie Prevost goes by the name of Helen Hayes, not to be confused with The First Lady of the American Theatre who would herself win an Oscar only a few years after this film was released.

Best Picture of 1944

Although the nominees from this project's current focus are an enjoyable bunch, the decision to choose my favourite from amongst them has possibly been the easiest to date. Not because the other four are particularly weak, but simply because one film clearly hijacked my brain for a couple of hours ... in a good way.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1944 are:

• Double Indemnity
• Gaslight
• Going My Way
• Since You Went Away
• Wilson

Quite a diverse group. One feel-good musical, one epic melodrama, one political biopic, one classic noir and one noir-ish. As I stated above, there is one clear winner for me, so I will dispense with my usual back and forth. In no particular order, the four non-winners are as follows:

The Academy's pick, Going My Way, is a lovely film that put a smile on my face but nothing more. Wilson is wryly fascinating but occasionally dry. Since You Went Away is striking at times but mostly sappy and overly sentimental. Gaslight has a few elements that are similarly possessed by my favourite, namely the mystery and the noir cinematography. However, the suspense is undermined by the film's predictability making it slightly inferior in my eyes.

Those with decent deductive skills have already figured out which film has taken my first place. Its intrigue and tension combined with its evocative visual style helped it to stand out above the rest in my humble opinion. Therefore, it may now be officially declared that Double Indemnity is my favourite of the Best Picture nominees from 1944.

Best Picture of 1944
Academy's choice: Going My Way	Matt's choice: Double Indemnity

Your choice:

As always, you can vote for your own favourite using the poll above. For the next year of focus, I had considered studying 1971 for the sole reason that the IFC Center here in New York was presenting A Clockwork Orange with midnight screenings this weekend and I figured it might be nice to take this project to the big screen. But, alas, the snowy weather kept me away. That and the fact that my lovely wife loathes the film and the thought of a midnight screening on my own was not so appealing. So, I'll save 1971 for later, and instead go back to where it all began by reviewing the very first Academy Award nominees for Best Picture (or Outstanding Picture as it was known then).

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1927/28 are:

• The Racket
• 7th Heaven
• Wings

A short shortlist, to be sure, but it contains the only silent films to be nominated for the big award, so it will be an interesting week ahead. Stay tuned...

1944 - Going My Way

I've talked previously about the small differences in Australian and American language. Yesterday, however, I came across another difference that has me somewhat baffled. Backstage after my show, I witnessed a cast member grab his fellow performer by the arm, twisting his hands in opposite directions in a display of pretend torture. He referred to the prank as an Indian Burn, which was clearly a term comprehended by everyone in the room. An Indian Burn? In Australia, it is commonly known as a Chinese Burn. How on earth does that happen?

I've also discovered that the popular children's game in which a secret is whispered from one participant to the next down the line is known in the US as Telephone. Back home, we refer to it as Chinese Whispers. Either Australians are racist or the Chinese-American community is very good at damage control.

Today, I completed the Best Picture round of 1944 with...

Going My Way

Director:

Leo McCarey

Screenplay:

Frank Butler and Frank Cavett; story by Leo McCarey

Starring:

Bing Crosby, Barry Fitzgerald, Frank McHugh, Risë Stevens

Academy Awards:

10 nominations

7 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor

Father O'Malley (Crosby) is sent to St. Dominic's parish to help steer the church out of financial trouble. The only catch is the current pastor, Father Fitzgibbon (Fitzgerald), is unaware that he is no longer in charge. The gruff old veteran has been with the church since its construction 45 years ago and, therefore, is not easily accepting of change. In order to raise the funds to clear the church's debt, O'Malley uses his musical talents to form a boys' choir.

Going My Way is a pleasant and charming family film that has 'feel-good' written all over it. Almost everything about the picture exudes a sense of niceness. Nice story. Nice songs. Nice characters. Even the nasty characters turn out to be nice deep down. And so do the wayward characters. Oddly enough, though, I didn't pick up an overly sweet tone from the film. It wasn't over-the-top in its sentimentality at all. It was just ... nice.

The scenes trundle along with only rare moments of excitement. A number of seemingly irrelevant digressions give the rambling storyline a slow feeling. The extremely sparse score may also have something to do with that. Its absence is especially noticeable during the scene transitions. Conversely, the film contains several pleasant songs scattered throughout. No showstoppers, but plenty of songs that are ... nice.

The characters don't burst into song randomly as in a traditional musical, but instead the numbers are naturalistically incorporated into the story. It's sort of a non-musical musical. The film won a Best Song Oscar for Swinging On A Star, which is very cute and, well ... nice.

Director Leo McCarey assembled a very enchanting cast, each amiable for their own reasons. Frank McHugh as the neighbouring priest has a most infectious laugh. Stanley Clements as the young ruffian with a soft side is very entertaining, especially due to his serious face-slapping ability. Jean Heather (who also appeared in another 1944 Best Picture nominee Double Indemnity) as a rebellious teenager turned good is sweet and winsome. William Frawley (a.k.a. Fred Mertz) shows up as a music publisher. And, of course, the great Bing Crosby croons his way delightfully through the film. His naturally genial persona is just so ... nice.

Then there's Barry Fitzgerald as the irascible Father Fitzgibbon. Another delightfully pleasing performance. Incidentally, he is the only person to have been nominated for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor for the same performance. He won the latter, and then the Academy amended the rules so that couldn't happen again. Nice.

1944 - Double Indemnity

In a city of over eight million people, one certainly doesn't expect to randomly bump into anybody one knows on the street, let alone someone from one's home town 16,000 kilometres away (that's 10,000 miles in American). And yet, that's precisely what happened yesterday as I strolled up 5th Avenue. Upon passing a young man on his mobile phone (that's 'cell phone' in American), I silently pondered how similar he looked to a friend I knew from Sydney. Five metres further down the street (that's about 16 feet in American), I heard my name and turned around to discover that the reason the phone-wielding man looked so similar to my friend was that it was my friend. Small world, indeed. (That's Planet Earth in American.)

Today, I viewed one more Best Picture contender from 1944...

Double Indemnity

Director:

Billy Wilder

Screenplay:

Billy Wilder & Raymond Chandler

(based on the novella by James M. Cain)

Starring:

Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

0 wins

One of the, if not, the most classic entry in the film noir genre, Double Indemnity is told in confession by Walter Neff (MacMurray), an insurance salesman who gets himself involved in a messy situation. After meeting the sultry and unhappily married Phyllis Dietrichson (Stanwyck), he quickly falls for her beguiling ways and agrees to help her knock off her husband for the insurance money. The plan is elaborately conceived in order to fool Neff's work colleague, the clever and determined claims investigator Barton Keyes (Robinson). Once the plan is set into motion, however, several twists and turns must be dealt with for the two lovers to literally get away with murder.

It's easy to understand why Double Indemnity is often cited as the cornerstone to which all other films of the genre are compared. It is about as noir as it gets. The perfect lesson in how to create a stylish, moody, gripping story. Voice over narration, a femme fatale, a clever murder plot, with lashings of mystery and intrigue and breath-holding tension, all created with such subtlety and intelligence. The subtext is almost a character of its own. It's all in the eyes, you see. A simple look can reveal so much. There's no need to hit the audience over the head with expository dialogue. We understand it all with the slightest of indicators.

And speaking of the dialogue. You could drown underneath the wonderfully colourful metaphors and double entendres. Each line is wittier than the last. For example, when Neff first meets Phyllis, she is wearing only a towel. He talks to her about not being "fully covered" but, of course, he's referring to her husband's insurance policy... or is he? When he is offered a glass of iced tea, he responds with the gem, "Yeah, unless you got a bottle of beer that's not working."

The music is the perfect complement and the cinematography is simply sublime. The shadows and the shafts of hazy light create the ideal mood. The three lead actors could hardly go wrong with this material. Just speak fast and nonchalantly and the words will do the rest. Still, Fred MacMurray as the average guy with the bad boy streak seems a little too wholesome to really pull it off. Perhaps it is just hindsight after a 12-year stint in a wholesome sitcom that prevents him from being truly convincing when he demands, "Shutup, baby" and then forcefully plants a kiss on Barbara Stanwyck.