1999 - The Insider

Things I have learned about New York City in December:

• It is cold.
• Freshly fallen snow is soft, fluffy powder, perfect for making snow angels. Two days later, it is wet, brown sludge, perfect for making your socks damp.
• It is very cold.
• When walking down the stairs at the subway station after a recent snowy downfall, it is necessary to hold on to the railing with both hands in order to avoid the inadvertent use of your bottom as a toboggan.
• It is freaking cold.
• Visiting Macy's in Manhattan at six o'clock on the evening of December 23rd is akin to inviting 700 people into your living room.
• It is very freaking cold.

On the other hand, there is beauty, too. From the vantage point of our high-rise apartment, we can see snow, still pristine and sludge-free, atop the roofs of nearby buildings.

Today, I began the review of a year that is perhaps my favourite year of film amongst the last few decades: 1999. The first Best Picture nominee to be considered was...

The Insider

Director:

Michael Mann

Screenplay:

Eric Roth & Michael Mann

(based on the Vanity Fair article "The Man Who Knew Too Much" by Marie Brenner)

Starring:

Al Pacino, Russell Crowe, Christopher Plummer, Diane Venora, Philip Baker Hall, Lindsay Crouse, Debi Mazar

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

0 wins

A story of corporate intrigue and journalistic integrity, The Insider is based on the real events surrounding tobacco industry whistle-blower Jeffrey Wigand (Crowe). After being fired by his employer, Wigand is recruited by 60 Minutes producer Lowell Bergman (Pacino) to decipher some tobacco related documents. However, Bergman's keen sense for a story notices that Wigand has a lot more that he desperately wants to reveal if only he weren't stifled by the confidentiality agreement he has with his previous employer. Once Bergman convinces Wigand to spill the beans and, therefore, put his family at risk, Bergman must then fight lawyers, corporate bigwigs and even his own network to ensure Wigand isn't left out to dry.

The Insider is a wonderfully gripping film with suspense that never lets up. The story is constantly moving forward, each step filled with its own frustrating obstacles. At the heart of the story are two men, both painted with high morals and integrity. Wigand sacrifices almost everything to let the world know about the evils of the tobacco companies. Bergman is unrelenting in his attempt to maintain truth in journalism. Undoubtedly, there are many dramatisations in the picture, so one wonders how flawlessly moralistic these men actually were, but it certainly makes for great entertainment. On the other hand, one of the downfalls of Wigand being portrayed with such righteousness is that his wife comes across as a tad unreasonable and unsupportive.

Russell Crowe (pictured) received a great deal of acclaim for his performance as Wigand and perhaps rightly so. After all, he gained weight for the role and made himself less attractive and Oscar loves actors who do that. Nonetheless, Al Pacino, as always, is so undeniably watchable that I've never understood how Crowe took all the press away from him. Yes, it was Crowe's breakout role, and one year later, he'd become a mega-star and win an Oscar thanks to Gladiator, but, to me, he is simply not in the same class as the great Al.

Michael Mann's direction accomplishes a brilliant tone for the film, not to mention the amazing cast he assembled. Christopher Plummer is fitting as 60 Minutes journalist Mike Wallace and Philip Baker Hall makes yet another impressive turn as the CBS News executive Don Hewitt. There is also a long list of talented names filling out smaller roles, all delivering great performances, namely Michael Gambon, Debi Mazar, Gina Gershon, Colm Feore and Stephen Tobolowsky.

Best Picture of 1927/28

So it was back to year one for Matt vs. the Academy as I looked at the very first contenders for Oscar's main prize. Not having been an avid viewer of silent films, I must say, I have grown a fond appreciation for them from these fine examples. Choosing my favourite from the trio is another story.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1927/28 are:

• The Racket
• 7th Heaven
• Wings

Watching pictures from the silent era certainly requires a different mindset. The images are regularly interrupted by the white on black titles. On the other hand, this procedure does force the film makers to be economical with the dialogue, creating simple and accessible storylines. Still, one wonders why it never occurred to them to use subtitles instead.

The three classics nominated for the first Best Picture award, then known as Outstanding Production, are all worthy of their citations. In selecting my favourite, I managed to remove The Racket from contention early on, not through any major flaws, but simply because the other two were particularly engaging.

That leaves us with 7th Heaven and Wings. A tough pair to separate. The former has an intimately captivating story, but the latter's epic spectacle is hard to ignore. I'm still deciding as I write these words. I think perhaps I'm going to side with 7th Heaven, maybe because it seamlessly manages to incorporate some elements of slapstick and action alongside the drama. But Wings is a very close second.

So, once again, I will be disagreeing with the Academy's choice by selecting 7th Heaven as my favourite from the Best Picture nominees of the 1st Academy Awards.

Best Picture of 1927/28
Academy's choice: Wings	Matt's choice: 7th Heaven

Your choice:

I suspect not as many of my readers are familiar with those three films, but in any case, the poll for your selection is above for those who are so inclined. For my next year of review, I have chosen one of my favourite years of film in the last few decades: 1999. Even though only one of my actual top five from that year was nominated for Best Picture, the Academy's shortlist is still an admirable one.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1999 are:

• American Beauty
• The Cider House Rules
• The Green Mile
• The Insider
• The Sixth Sense

See you soon...

1927/28 - Wings

Awards season is in full swing now with the Golden Globe nominations announced on Tuesday and the SAG nominees announced this morning, plus several critics associations releasing their picks of the year as well. And as is often the case, there are several names that keep popping up. I love awards season (as this project probably indicates) but I find this early part of the season particularly fascinating - watching the favourites emerge. There is always buzz around certain films and actors, but until the announcements are announced and the press releases released, it really is just conjecture. But now that the honouring has begun, the ultimate guessing game - that of the Oscar winners - becomes much more interesting. I had considered prematurely offering my Oscar predictions here and now, but after a decent amount of deliberation, I can simply not pick a front-runner for any category as of yet. Perhaps over the next few weeks, as I see more of the contenders, I'll share my thoughts on each of the major categories.

For now, however, I'll stick to the past and comment on the final Best Picture nominee from Oscar's inaugural year...

Wings

Director:

William A. Wellman

Screenplay:

John Monk Saunders, Hope Loring & Louis D. Lighton

Starring:

Clara Bow, Charles Rogers, Richard Arlen

Academy Awards:

2 nominations

2 wins, including Best Picture

Another classic from the silent era, Wings follows Jack Powell (Rogers) and David Armstrong (Arlen) as they enlist in the American Air Service in World War I. They begin as bitter rivals, both in love with the same woman. Jack mistakenly believes his love is requited, consequently ignoring advances from an actual admirer, the sweet Mary Preston (Bow). Once enlisted, however, the rivalry quickly turns to lasting friendship as the two fighter pilots battle alongside each other in daring feats of air combat.

Wings begins with a touch of pantomime. But most silent films lean in that direction, so I can let that one go. Besides, once the spectacular war scenes begin, all the ham acting of silent film stars is easily forgotten. I recently expressed my admiration of 7th Heaven's battle scenes, but Wings completely blows them away. The aerial action in this picture is simply phenomenal, comparable to anything you might see in a modern flick. In fact, if they had today's technology, they probably wouldn't have been so authentic. The flying is real. The crashes are real. The exploding blimps are real. There is even a jaw-dropping scene in which we see real missiles explode on a town, all from the point of view of the plane dropping the bombs. The whole thing is made all the more impressive when you discover that Rogers and Arlen piloted planes themselves for all their close-ups.

Along with the standard dialogue titles, there are also a large number of narration titles, creating a sort of storybook feel to the picture, which at first just seems a little childish. In particular, the narration during the first aerial battle is somewhat reminiscent of sports commentary. Nonetheless, once the story has you hooked, it is actually quite effective. There are also some fancy superimposing tricks that brighten up that boring white text on a black background. Plus, we are treated to some cool bubble effects during Jack's drunken stupor.

Watch out for Gary Cooper in one of his first credited roles as a flying ace who fatefully scoffs at good luck charms. And being a pre-Code film, Clara Bow (pictured) is able to offer some mild titillation to her fans by showing a little skin, an image that somehow always seems out of place in old movies.

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.