1999 - The Sixth Sense

It seems fitting that on the same day that my darling wife Kat and I watched one of the creepiest films to be nominated for Best Picture that we would also experience our very own real-life creepy moment. When travelling home last night, we shared a train car with an obviously unstable man, unintentionally impersonating the grunting chuckles of Billy Bob Thornton's Sling Blade character. He proceeded to pull out a lighter and repeatedly attempt to set fire to his own shoe before smelling his fingers. The incident was perhaps made slightly less frightening due to the fact that the carriage was crowded with several other similarly bewildered passengers, eventually releasing a communal sigh of relief when the strange man disembarked ... Ah, the joys of the New York subway system.

Earlier yesterday, Kat and I subjected ourselves to the next nominee from 1999's Best Picture contest...

The Sixth Sense

Director:

M. Night Shyamalan

Screenplay:

M. Night Shyamalan

Starring:

Bruce Willis, Haley Joel Osment, Toni Collette, Olivia Williams, Donnie Wahlberg

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

In discussing my thoughts about The Sixth Sense, I find myself a little confounded. In a way, I wish I wrote about it ten years ago when I first saw it. I was one of the lucky ones. I managed to make my way to the cinema fairly early on in its original theatrical release with no knowledge of its earth-shattering twist. If only it were possible to harmlessly erase my memory before watching it a second or third time. More than any other film, I think, this supernatural thriller loses a lot of its tension and surprise on repeat viewings, so if you are fortunate enough to have avoided hearing of its twist and you have yet to see it (an unlikely state of affairs, I'll admit), I suggest you read no further until you have done so.

Now, since the rest of you are familiar with the film's secrets, it seems vaguely redundant to offer my usual summation of the plot. Nonetheless, to refresh the memories of those who may not have seen it recently, Bruce Willis plays child psychologist Malcolm Crowe, who after witnessing a former troubled patient (Wahlberg) commit suicide in front of him, sets out to help young Cole Sear (Osment), who is experiencing similar symptoms.

Nothing about that summary immediately suggests horror or thriller, thus exposing the inherent problem of reviewing this film ten years after I first saw it. As soon as I add to the synopsis that Cole sees dead people and that Crowe is unaware that he is one of those deceased, an entirely new perspective is placed on the events. And those two truth bombs are not alone in losing their impact upon rewatching. I remember being spooked for days by visions of ghosts appearing unsuspectingly, particularly the sequence in which Cole runs into his play tent for safety, only to realise he is sharing it with a young ghostly girl who proceeds to vomit all over herself. When you know this scene is coming, it is simply not half as fun.

However, this is not to say that the picture is devoid of worth in its subsequent viewings. It's just that with such a massive twist, there is no way it can ever live up to its original shock value. Unlike for instance, The Crying Game, in which the twist, occurring midway through the film, acts as a catapult pushing the story forward, in The Sixth Sense, the twist is the climax. Luckily, director M. Night Shyamalan is successful in creating a frightening atmosphere regardless. The use of breath sounds to punctuate the soundtrack is particularly inspired. Still, there is no doubt that watching The Sixth Sense with absolutely no knowledge of its content is the ultimate way to experience it. In fact, I would also have recommended avoiding the trailers at the time of its release, since they made it clear that this was a film about ghosts. But Cole's special talent is not revealed until the movie's halfway point, by way of the now immortal line, "I see dead people." Mind you, knowing that there are going to be ghosts at some point certainly creates tension and Shyamalan is clever to keep the apparitions off the screen for the first act, a technique well mastered by Spielberg in Jaws. Great film-makers are aware that the audience's imagination can often be a hell of a lot scarier than anything you can create on screen.

Crowe's relationship with his wife Anna (Williams) is probably the most affected aspect of the story on a repeat viewing. The poignant dinner scene in which Anna seems cold and upset by her husband's neglect of her is made even more poignant with the fresh perspective that she is actually dining alone, pining for him, not because he is distant, but because he is dead. Then again, there is a somewhat hard to accept logic in the fact that Crowe doesn't realise his own non-existence, considering his wife doesn't say a word to him for months on end. But I guess, in a film in which a nine-year-old converses with fatal fire victims, it is probably superfluous to dissect the story's foothold in reality.

It would be remiss of me not to at least mention the mature (and Oscar-nominated) performance of Haley Joel Osment. I recall that, in interviews at the time of the film's release, I found him to be precociously annoying, but it is hard to deny the effectiveness of his portrayal as the tormented Cole. Former New Kid on the Block Donnie Wahlberg shatters his teen idol image with a raw and moving performance of a very troubled man. And for fans of The O.C., that's Mischa Barton throwing up her guts in that tent.

So, as I related when I began this review, my thoughts of The Sixth Sense are difficult to analyse. Ten years ago, I was genuinely unnerved by it and it haunted me for days. And, despite the fact that it undoubtedly lost a lot of its punch this time around, there is still plenty left to be impressed by.

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.