1964 - Dr. Strangelove

More of my Oscar predictions. Let's take a look at the race for the two Screenplay awards. The frontrunner for Adapted Screenplay is clearly Up In The Air, having recently taken a Golden Globe for its script. The buzz around the film is waning slightly (very slightly), but even if it doesn't take out Best Picture, I suspect it will take this category comfortably. Precious seems to be the only other film that has a strong "Oscar nominee" vibe about it. For the other three spots, there are several films that could be contenders, including, believe it or not, Star Trek, which recently picked up a nomination from the Writer's Guild. I'm not sure the Academy will go for it, so I'm going to predict An Education, District 9 and Fantastic Mr. Fox to round out the Adapted Screenplay shortlist. Its cousin, Best Original Screenplay, proves to be a tougher nut to crack. The Hurt Locker is perhaps the strongest contender for a nomination. Tarantino's script for Inglourious Basterds ought to join it, as should the Coens' A Serious Man. Let's trust the Academy's penchant for nominating Pixar films in this category and go with Up as the fourth nominee, which leaves one spot left. There's no guarantee James Cameron will receive a nod for Avatar despite the film's rising buzz, and I personally won't be disappointed if his name is left off the list. So, instead I'll put (500) Days of Summer as the final nominee, but exercise my prerogative to keep Avatar as a backup. Also, I would not be completely surprised if The Hangover is nominated. Yes, that's right, I said The Hangover. It could happen, people.

My next film for Matt vs. the Academy was a classic from the 1964 Best Picture contest...

Dr. Strangelove

Director:

Stanley Kubrick

Screenplay:

Stanley Kubrick, Terry Southern & Peter George

(based on the novel "Red Alert" by Peter George)

Starring:

Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Keenan Wynn, Slim Pickens

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

0 wins

By the title alone, you might be excused for thinking Dr. Strangelove is a James Bond film. Until, of course, you take into account the whimsical sub-title, How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb. Then it becomes clear that this is a delightfully irreverent satire of the apocalyptic fear encapsulating the world during the Cold War. When a U.S. Air Force general (Hayden) loses his marbles and orders an unprovoked nuclear attack on the Soviet Union, his British executive officer (Sellers) unsuccessfully attempts to recall the planes. In the Pentagon's War Room, the President of the United States (Sellers again), with the aid of General Buck Turgidson (Scott), tries to find a way out of this potentially awkward political situation. Unfortunately, the Soviets inform them of an automatic doomsday machine set to annihilate all life on earth in the event of an attack on Russian soil. Weapons expert Dr. Strangelove (Sellers once more) is also of little help to the President as one B-52 crew continues on their path to drop the bomb.

One is struck immediately by the absurd character names featured in this classic black comedy. General Buck Turgidson, President Merkin Muffley, Brigadier General Jack D. Ripper, Colonel Bat Guano, Lieutenant Lothar Zogg. Even the locations are caught up in the mayhem - the story begins at Burpelson Air Force Base. What makes this lunacy work so well is the dry style in which it is all delivered. And it's not just the ludicrous names. All sorts of odd and quirky things litter the serious predicament in which these characters find themselves and yet no mention is ever given to them. Dr. Strangelove struggles to keep his seemingly independent right arm from jerking itself into a Nazi salute, but nobody calls him on it. At one point, George C. Scott literally falls over backwards in the middle of a line, but he rises again just as swiftly and not a word is said about it.

The dry wit permeates all aspects of Dr. Strangelove. The now famous line, "You can't fight in here, this is the War Room," is one such example. Another scene involves the British officer attempting to phone the President with news of how to recall the planes only to discover he doesn't have enough change to make the call. His interchange with the operator is a pure delight. This practice of setting mundane everyday life experiences against the gravely important situation that is unfolding is superbly executed.

Adding to the acerbic nature of the film is the surreal set design by frequent Bond film designer Ken Adam. The War Room (pictured) is an evocatively dark and looming room that is somehow both claustrophobic and spacious. With the dozens of men sitting around the circular table crowned with low-hanging lights, there is a definite sense that something ridiculously important happens here.

George C. Scott's performance in this film can only be described as wild. Apparently he resented director Stanley Kubrick's insistence that he overact, but the craziness is so wonderfully playful that it's hard to imagine it any other way. In a lesser actor, it might indeed seem over the top, but Scott manages to root his character in a deep sense of truth and seriousness that you buy the whole thing, pratfalls and all. However, it is Peter Sellers that steals the show here with his Oscar-nominated portrayal of three very different characters. His Dr. Strangelove is genuinely fantastic and traditionally the most memorable, but I found his other two characters even more entertaining. By most accounts, he improvised a lot of his dialogue, which only makes it more impressive, particularly the scenes in which he speaks to the unseen Soviet Premier over the phone. It almost feels like a lovers' spat. Keep an eye out also for James Earl Jones in his first film role as one of the crew aboard the B-52 plane.

Despite the thoroughly entertaining style of Dr. Strangelove, I did find the ending somehow unsatisfying, maybe just because it is so abrupt. Then again, that's probably the point.

1964 - Becket

With the not-as-irreverent-as-usual Golden Globes in the past and this year's Oscar nominations only a couple of weeks away, it is time now to delve into the impossible world of awards prediction. For today, I'll devote my thoughts to a relatively easy race, that of the Best Animated Feature. It seems increasingly clear that Pixar's justified domination of this category will probably continue. In the last five years, their films have won four trophies, and I expect that the utterly delightful Up will make it five out of six. In all, twenty animated films are eligible for this year's award and, according to Academy rules, that means the nomination shortlist can contain up to five features. So, joining Up will most likely be four films all based on previous material: Wes Anderson's unique retelling of Roald Dahl's Fantastic Mr. Fox; the cute adaptation of the classic children's book Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs; the horror-fantasy stop-motion film based on popular sci-fi writer Neil Gaiman's Coraline; and Disney's return to hand-drawn animation with the classic fairy tale of The Princess and the Frog. Time will tell if my deductive powers are acute.

Earlier today, I watched the second nominee from 1964's Best Picture competition...

Becket

Director:

Peter Glenville

Screenplay:

Edward Anhalt

(based on the play by Jean Anouilh)

Starring:

Richard Burton, Peter O'Toole, John Gielgud, Donald Wolfit

Academy Awards:

12 nominations

1 win, for Best Adapted Screenplay

The politics of religion are at the forefront of this 12th century tale of two men with a very complicated friendship. Thomas Becket (Burton) is the right hand man of King Henry II (O'Toole). Despite differing backgrounds, they are seemingly the best of friends, enjoying evenings of debauchery. But where the King is a childishly tyrannical ruler, Becket is considerate and contemplative. After the death of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who stubbornly opposed the King on several matters, Henry appoints Becket to the holy post, hoping it will lead to easier control of the Church. Unfortunately for Henry, Becket takes his position seriously, declaring loyalty to God over his monarch, thus incensing Henry. So begins a bitter struggle between two clever and obstinate adversaries.

With all its political maneuvering, Becket unfolds like a chess game. Each move is deliberate and strategic. Interestingly, only minutes after I perceived this chess metaphor, it became seriously blatant as two characters indeed play a game of chess while referencing a knight toppling a bishop. The metaphor is also featured in later dialogue, but I swear I put it all together myself first. I could so be a writer.

The picture does an excellent job of immersing its audience in all things medieval, a large testament to its production design. The script contains various philosophical, political and religious arguments, making the film literally thought-provoking. Despite these serious themes, there is much wit in the dialogue, including a persuasive exchange on the redundancy of forks.

But it is the powerhouse performances of the film's two leads that truly hold one's interest - the kind of exhilarating display unique to classically trained British actors. And Burton and O'Toole (pictured) complement each other beautifully. Burton's stoic and pensive Becket is the perfect companion to O'Toole's maniacally insecure Henry. They both received Best Actor nominations for their work on this film, yet with 15 career nominations between them, they are both without a trophy. Burton may have passed on, but the 77-year-old O'Toole is fond of declaring that he still has a chance. Other cast members worth noting are John Gielgud who received the film's third acting nomination for his relatively short turn as the French King Louis VII, and, although he wasn't nominated, Donald Wolfit delivers another accomplished portrayal as the Bishop of London.

1964 - Zorba the Greek

As promised, I'm going to experiment with a little reader interaction by introducing a poll for you to vote on which awards year I should tackle next. So, during the review of 1964's Best Picture nominees, I will keep said poll on the sidebar to the right and when the time comes to move on, whichever year has the most votes will be selected as the next year of review. (As if you didn't understand how polls work.) To begin with, I've selected five Best Picture races from the 1980s, so choose your favourite and maybe you'll see that race on Matt vs. the Academy in a couple of weeks.

In the meantime, the review of the 1964 race began with a viewing of Best Picture nominee...

Zorba the Greek

Director:

Michael Cacoyannis

Screenplay:

Michael Cacoyannis

(based on the novel by Nikos Kazantzakis)

Starring:

Anthony Quinn, Alan Bates, Irene Papas, Lila Kedrova, Sotiris Moustakas

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

3 wins, including Best Supporting Actress (Lila Kedrova)

Responsible for numerous Greek dancing parodies, Zorba the Greek explores the friendship between an unlikely pair. Basil (Bates) is an uptight English writer who travels to Greece to open a mine on his father's land. On his way, he meets Zorba (Quinn), an enthusiastic - some might say mildly crazy - Greek peasant who persuades Basil to take him along to work on the mine. When on Crete, Zorba attempts to teach Basil to loosen up by encouraging him to pursue a local widow (Papas), while Zorba himself begins an affair with a mad French hotelier (Kedrova).

Perhaps I'm the only one, but I got a distinct spaghetti western feeling when watching Zorba the Greek. Maybe it was the long silences and elongated glares between enemies. Maybe it was the prolific use of the close-up. Or maybe it was just the foreign accents. Whatever the reason, there is something slightly odd about the film. You never entirely understand what's going on. The characters often act incomprehensibly, especially the villagers, who are downright despicable on occasion, stoning a woman for spurious reasons and looting another woman's home while she is dying. A love scene between Basil and the widow seems almost like interpretive dance in its abstractness. Then there's the village idiot, a character so baffling that in order to come up with the right adjective to describe him, I searched an online thesaurus for words synonymous with 'incomprehensible'. The second suggestion offered was the word 'Greek'. Indeed.

Perhaps also it is the range of genres that are attempted here. There are several moments of comedy, sometimes approaching slapstick, combined with a great deal of tragedy. Add a few political themes and other non sequiturs and the result is a bit of a mish-mash.

And yet, through it all, the film is somehow infectious. Especially the famous music, which never fails to lighten the mood. The most infectious element, though, is the title character. Anthony Quinn gives Zorba such an exhilarating passion for life that it is hard not to go along for the ride. His warped wisdom is the source of most of the humour in the film with such gems as, "To be alive is to undo your belt and look for trouble." There are moments, however, when he seems vaguely threatening, although probably unintentionally. Lila Kedrova, too, is a delight to watch, earning a well-deserved Academy Award for her performance. Her Madame Hortense is intensely exuberant yet deeply heartbreaking. Kedrova and Quinn together (pictured) are a unique force on the screen, creating much amusement.

Keep your earplugs on hand for the most annoying collection of cackling toothless old ladies ever to appear on screen. And in the interests of irrelevant trivia, it is useless to note that in an alphabetical list of every Best Picture nominee, Zorba the Greek comes in last.

Best Picture of 1999

With very little doubt, 1999 brought with it a slew of incredible films. Personally, I consider it to be the finest year for cinema in recent decades, primarily due to the pictures' originality. Whether it was a portal into John Malkovich's brain, a red pill that reveals the truth, frogs raining from the sky or a club for men to punch the crap out of each other, it's hard to deny that 1999 left an indelible mark. The five pictures nominated for that year's Best Picture Oscar were no exception and I immensely enjoyed revisiting them for this project.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1999 are:

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

Since this is a year I hold in great esteem, I've had occasion to ponder my favourite nominee several times before, so it was somewhat of a foregone conclusion which film I would pick. Nonetheless, I shall go through the motions and contemplate all the contenders.

The surprising thing about these five movies is that they didn't seem to suffer the not-so-unusual phenomenon of a greatly diminished appreciation on a repeat viewing. Having watched all of the nominees ten years ago, I would say The Sixth Sense is the only one that dropped in regard in any significant manner and that is only the expected lack of surprise that is unavoidable when rewatching big twist films. Conversely, I found myself succumbing to the charms of The Cider House Rules, about which I was originally more complacent.

Both The Insider and The Green Mile are gripping, albeit in different ways, and viewing them again this time around reminded me of what fine examples of cinema they really are. I guess in a year full of fine examples, I had forgotten their brilliance. But it is the suburban dramedy American Beauty that captured and inspired me a decade ago and remains on top today. Truth be told, Fight Club is probably my favourite film from 1999, but American Beauty is a very close second, thereby claiming the title of my favourite Best Picture nominee of the year. Another match with the Academy, this being the fifth time out of ten verdicts, making it an even 50% so far.

Best Picture of 1999
Academy's choice: American Beauty	Matt's choice: American Beauty

Your choice:

Polls are now open above for you to express your opinion. And speaking of polls, I may introduce a voting system to decide which year takes the project's focus next. Seems a little unnecessary since I have to cover every year eventually, but it might be fun. So, look out for that in the (very) near future. For now, though, I'll decide the next race myself as we revisit the 1960s with another diverse slate of contenders.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1964 are:

• Becket
• Dr. Strangelove
• Mary Poppins
• My Fair Lady
• Zorba the Greek

And stay tuned also for some musings on the current awards season which is developing rather nicely.

1999 - The Green Mile

It's been just over a week since my last post, which I believe is the longest hiatus I've taken thus far since the project began. So, perhaps this is an opportune moment to discuss the details of my arbitrary deadline. As mentioned in my inaugural post, I had intended to wrap up my movie-watching duties by next year's Academy Awards ceremony. The viewing rate began admirably but it soon became a little impractical to be devoting six days a week to sitting in front of the television (and then, today, I read this). Now, with only a little over ten percent of the films crossed off my list, the rate would have to be increased to more than one film a day for me to meet that deadline. Which is clearly preposterous. But I'm not going to set a new deadline. Instead, I'll enjoy the process without a date looming over my head. Although, I'll try not to leave a week in between posts, either.

Finishing off the slate of films vying for the 1999 Best Picture award was...

The Green Mile

Director:

Frank Darabont

Screenplay:

Frank Darabont

(based on the novel by Stephen King)

Starring:

Tom Hanks, David Morse, Bonnie Hunt, Michael Clarke Duncan, James Cromwell

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

0 wins

A rare pairing of prison drama with supernatural thriller, The Green Mile is related in flashback by an elderly man recalling his years as a Death Row prison guard in Depression-era Louisiana. Whilst suffering a horrendous urinary tract infection, the young Paul Edgecomb (Hanks) oversees the arrival of a new inmate who is as simple-minded as he is thickset. Convicted of raping and murdering two young girls, John Coffey (Duncan) requests that the prison lights be kept on at night to alleviate his fear of the dark. After he cures Paul's painful peeing problem and follows that up by resurrecting a dead mouse, Paul begins to understand there is more to John than meets the eye.

The Green Mile begins and ends with a relatively slow pace and much of what is in between follows suit, but the film never feels slow. Rather, it is like a comfortable three-hour stroll through an interesting part of town. There are ups and downs, but there is always exactly the right amount of time to see each neighbourhood and you never linger longer than necessary. It travels well. Despite ample coverage of Tom Hanks urinating, which in theory should elicit cringes, the only genuinely uncomfortable scene involves a botched execution in which the electric chair occupant is literally set on fire. And even then, it is like the carnage you witness as you drive past a car accident. There's something so profoundly, instinctively fascinating that you simply can't look away. Throw in the image of a rundown prison building at night during a thunderstorm and the mood is complete.

Perhaps it was my Jewish upbringing, but I didn't notice the Christian parallels the first time I saw this a decade ago. A faith healer who feels the pain of other people and can take on that pain himself. And his name is John Coffey. J.C.? Get it? He even performs a resurrection. On a rodent, granted, but a resurrection nonetheless. Plus, his biggest advocate is a decent man named Paul. After that, the analogy seems to fall apart and, to be honest, I'm not quite certain I fully comprehend the purpose of it all anyway. I know that I enjoyed the story. Beyond that, you're on your own.

As is my usual practice, I'd like to list some of the standout performances from this picture. However, in this case, the list may turn out to include the entire ensemble cast. I'm aware I may have praised other casts as spectacular, but this time, I really mean it ... really. Tom Hanks is the only star name in the mix and I'm an admirer of his work. And his is not in any way a lacking performance, but it is the long list of career supporting actors that really shine in The Green Mile. As the other prison guards, we are presented with David Morse, Barry Pepper and Jeffrey DeMunn. All superbly subdued. There are stunning cameos from Gary Sinise, Graham Greene and Patricia Clarkson, as well as a hilarious turn by Harry Dean Stanton. Bonnie Hunt is solid as Paul's wife. James Cromwell is brilliantly layered as the warden. Doug Hutchison is particularly impressive as the weaselly Percy (whose name, pronounced with a Southern accent, sounds suspiciously like Pussy, which I suspect may be intentional). Then there are the inmates. Three fearless performances that are mesmerising to witness. Michael Clarke Duncan (pictured) imbues John with mystery and sympathy. Sam Rockwell unleashes the crazy as the bad-to-the-bone Wild Bill. And my favourite of them all, Michael Jeter, who portrays a different kind of crazy. A somewhat innocent crazy. Simply inspiring.

Like I said, a long list of names. Still, I would encourage you to search IMDb for all those actors and seek out anything in which they feature. Lastly, I'll just mention that, like fellow 1999 nominee The Cider House Rules, The Green Mile also references a previous Best Picture contender. The guards treat John to a private screening of 1935 nominee Top Hat.