Monday, December 6, 2010

1986 - A Room With a View

Here's a tip for the unaware...

When at the supermarket browsing bottles of wine, it may be worth looking more closely at the labels. Although the label on the bottle you purchase may, at first glance, have a design that is indistinguishable from the labels on more expensive bottles found in boutique wine shops, don't wait until you get it home to read the small text that describes the contents as "Wine Product." Not the same thing...

To wrap up the viewing of 1986's Best Picture nominees, yesterday I watched...


A Room with a View
Director:
James Ivory
Screenplay:
Ruth Prawer Jhabvala
(based on the novel by E.M. Forster)
Starring:
Maggie Smith, Helena Bonham Carter, Denholm Elliott, Julian Sands, Daniel Day-Lewis, Simon Callow, Judi Dench, Rosemary Leach, Rupert Graves
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
3 wins, including Best Adapted Screenplay

Just as Platoon is not for those with an aversion to war films, it seems safe to say that those lacking passion for period pieces would be well advised to stay away from A Room with a View. Lucy Honeychurch (Bonham Carter) is a young impressionable Englishwoman at the turn of the 20th century. Escorted by her chaperone, the neurotically proper Charlotte Bartlett (Smith), Lucy's horizons are widened on a holiday in Florence. Here, she meets George Emerson (Sands), who, along with his father (Elliott), is unperturbed by the repressive social etiquette of the day. In fact, in a moment of spontaneity, George boldly plants a passionate kiss on Lucy while picnicking in the Italian countryside.

Lucy's tingly feelings are short-lived, however, for when she returns to England, she soon accepts a marriage proposal from the stuffy but dependable Cecil Vyse (Day-Lewis), whose kissing technique is decidedly awkward. Not to worry, though. George and his father coincidentally move into the neighbourhood, which evokes romantic memories in Lucy, who now attempts to suppress her desire for him.

As a Merchant Ivory production - and one of their biggest hits, to boot - A Room with a View is unmistakably a lavish period piece. The costumes, the sets, the locations are all enchantingly beautiful, and each sequence is preceded by delicate title cards with text taken from the original novel's chapter headings. The result is a kind of storybook effect, successfully transporting the viewer to another time and place.

All the familiar themes of a period drama - social standing, keeping up appearances, repressed love - are present in Ruth Prawer Jhabvala's exquisitely written script, her first of two E.M. Forster adaptations to nab her the Adapted Screenplay Oscar, followed a few years later by Howards End. In fact, with three Best Picture-nominated adaptations from his work (A Room with a View, Howards End and A Passage to India), E.M. Forster is one of the Academy's most represented authors.

The most amusing scene in the picture comes as George takes a swim in a pond with the local vicar, Mr. Beebe (Callow) and Lucy's brother, Freddy (Graves). The three men, naked as the day they were born, splash and jostle in and out of the water with a genuinely care-free attitude. Initially, it is a strange interlude in an otherwise family friendly film, but the scene soon becomes hilariously awkward when Lucy, Cecil and Mrs. Honeychurch (Leach) stumble upon the nude trio.

Helena Bonham Carter, youthful and pretty, portrays Lucy's awakening adorably. Daniel Day-Lewis is almost unrecognisable as the prissy Cecil. My favourite performance was by Denholm Elliott as the charmingly goofy Mr. Emerson, which garnered him a Best Supporting Actor nomination. Maggie Smith received the film's other acting citation - for Best Supporting Actress -for her delightful turn as the uptight Charlotte.

Friday, December 3, 2010

1986 - Platoon

Kat and I spent Thanksgiving weekend in Miami with a couple of fellow Aussie ex-pats. We walked along Miami Beach, we shopped on Lincoln Road Mall, we lay by the hotel pool, but mostly, we ate at restaurants. It was essentially three days of eating ... in beautifully warm weather. Back to the cold climes of New York City now...

Next up in 1986's race for Best Picture is...


Platoon
Director:
Oliver Stone
Screenplay:
Oliver Stone
Starring:
Charlie Sheen, Tom Berenger, Willem Dafoe, Keith David, Forest Whitaker, Francesco Quinn, Kevin Dillon, John C. McGinley, Reggie Johnson, Mark Moses, Corey Glover, Johnny Depp
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
4 wins, including Best Picture and Best Director

Drawing from his own experiences during the Vietnam War, director and writer Oliver Stone tells the story of Chris Taylor (Sheen), a young soldier arriving in Vietnam for a one-year tour of duty. As the newbie, he struggles to acclimate to the poor conditions and his fellow soldiers. Making matters worse is the fact that his superiors seem to be constantly locking horns. The hostile and facially scarred Sergeant Barnes (Berenger) lacks respect for his own superior, the unassertive Lieutenant Wolfe (Moses), and is also at loggerheads with Sergeant Elias (Defoe), seemingly the only soldier who tries to remain compassionate and reasonable.

If you're not a fan of war films, you probably shouldn't bother with Platoon. Its intense battle scenes are violent and often gory. But the graphic depiction of the war is not the only reason to laud this as a great film. Platoon succeeds because of its characters. The platoon of the title is composed of a variety of soldier types - the tough soldier, the frightened soldier, the corrupt soldier, the takes-it-as-it-comes soldier, the I've-had-enough soldier. In fact, that last type could probably refer to a number, if not all, of the members of the platoon.

There are times when the story seems to ramble. The company moves from mission to mission, fighting battles and losing some of their own. But, undoubtedly, this chaotic and unsettling narrative is representative of the war itself. It also serves to highlight how war can change a person. There is moral ambiguity in a great deal of the platoon's actions and each soldier makes at least one questionable decision, none more so than Sergeant Barnes, whose depravity acts somewhat as the story's through-line. Besides, the entire picture is so captivating that I hardly noticed that two hours had passed.

Georges Delerue's arrangement of Samuel Barber's stirring "Adagio for Strings" is powerfully moving, especially as used over the now iconic image of Elias' dying arms in the air. And Robert Richardson's Oscar-nominated cinematography infuses beauty into otherwise disturbing images.

And then there's the cast - an eclectic mix to match the diversity of the characters. Willem Defoe and Tom Berenger (pictured) both merited their Best Supporting Actor nominations. At the beginning of his career, Charlie Sheen was well-suited to play the naive new recruit who receives a trial by fire. Other up-and-comers at the time that appeared as platoon members were Kevin Dillon (you know him from Entourage), Mark Moses (you know him from Mad Men and Desperate Housewives), Forest Whitaker (you know him from The Last King of Scotland), Keith David (you know him from a lot of movies), John C. McGinley (you know him from Scrubs and most of Oliver Stone's other films) and Johnny Depp (you just know him). McGinley is especially fun to watch, playing a rather eccentric but eventually human Sergeant.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

1986 - Children of a Lesser God

It's Thanksgiving week here in the United States. That generally means people are flying home to be with their families. Kat and I will be doing that next month instead when we fly to Australia, so for this holiday, we've chosen Miami as our destination. And I'm sure we'll be giving thanks for the warm weather down there. Happy Thanksgiving to all my U.S. readers!

Yesterday, I viewed the next in 1986's lineup of Best Picture nominees...


Children of a Lesser God
Director:
Randa Haines
Screenplay:
Hesper Anderson and Mark Redoff
(based on the play by Redoff)
Starring:
William Hurt, Marlee Matlin, Piper Laurie, Philip Bosco
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
1 win, for Best Actress (Matlin)

James Leeds (Hurt) is the new speech teacher at a New England school for deaf children. While his unorthodox methods raise some eyebrows, he is very successful and much loved by his students. As he teaches them to speak (and even sing!), he finds himself smitten with the school's deaf janitor, Sarah Norman (Matlin). A former student herself, the bitter Sarah stubbornly refuses James' offers to help her speak, but does not refuse his romantic advances, albeit after some initial hesitation.

Children of a Lesser God could be a beautifully moving film if it weren't for one rather distracting flaw. James translates aloud everything Sarah signs as she is signing it. Sure, it conveniently allows those of us in the audience who do not know sign language (the majority, no doubt) to understand what she is saying, but it is such a phony dramatic device that it merely makes James seem fake. I understand that studios are reluctant to use subtitles for fear of audiences staying away from movies they have to read, but they really should have bitten the bullet in this instance. In fact, it may not even have required subtitles. Simply leaving the audience to infer Sarah's meaning from the context of James' side of the conversation would have been far less superficial.

It's a shame, really, because the story has the potential to be a lot more intimate. As it stands, though, the relationship between the two main characters feels somewhat distant due to James' insistent repetition. Consequently, the love story, which is otherwise personal and touching, seems a little rushed.

William Hurt puts in an admirable effort despite being given the short straw. His Oscar-nominated performance is especially commendable considering he is essentially speaking for two characters. He is slightly cheesy at times, but that is easily justified by his character's geeky sincerity. In her film debut, Marlee Matlin (pictured) delivers a heart-breakingly honest portrayal, earning her the Best Actress Oscar at the age of 21, which remains the record for the youngest winner in that category. The third acting citation for the film went to the richly deserving Piper Laurie for her tender performance as Sarah's estranged mother.

Despite my harshness in highlighting this film's main shortcoming, it remains an engaging film. I'm just disappointed because it could have been so much more.

Monday, November 22, 2010

1986 - The Mission

As promised, the poll for the next year of review is now running (in the right sidebar). You may notice that the list of years available in the poll does not include films from the 1930s as I mentioned in my last post. Here's my excuse... Kat and I will be heading home to Sydney over the Christmas/New Year period and then, on the way back to New York, I'll be stopping in L.A. for about a week. This seems like the perfect opportunity to check in at the UCLA Film Archive for a viewing of one or two of those hard-to-find Best Picture nominees. Since all those rarities are from the 1930s, I figured it best to spend time with another decade for now and leave the 1930s for January.

Meanwhile, we continue with 1986's contest by taking a look at the following Best Picture nominee...


The Mission
Director:
Roland Joffé
Screenplay:
Robert Bolt
Starring:
Robert De Niro, Jeremy Irons, Ray McAnally, Aidan Quinn, Cherie Lunghi, Ronald Pickup, Chuck Low, Liam Neeson
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
1 win, for Best Cinematography

In 18th century South America, well-meaning Jesuit priest Father Gabriel (Irons) sets up a mission in an area of the jungle accessed only by a precarious waterfall climb. He introduces Christianity to the indigenous Guarani tribe with the help of his fellow priests. The newest recruit to the Jesuit order is Rodrigo (De Niro), a former mercenary and slave-trader with a violent streak, who joined the priesthood as penance after a bout of fratricide.

Everything is hunky-dory for a while until politics gets in the way. The Spanish and Portuguese governments have decided to play around with which parts of the continent they claim as their own and the mission, previously in Spanish territory, is now considered Portuguese. Since Portuguese law is sympathetic to slavery, this is bad news for the Guarani. Enter Cardinal Altamirano (McAnally), a Papal emissary assigned the task of determining whether the Vatican will protect the mission or deliver it to the Portuguese.

My first thought after watching The Mission is how incredibly gruelling the shoot must have been for all involved. Shot on location in and around the rivers, waterfalls and jungles of South America, the natural beauty on display is hard to miss, but nature is not always convenient for film-makers. Nonetheless, convenient or not, the result is a feeling of true immersion in the jungle environment. No wonder the film's only Oscar came for Cinematography.

I am somewhat torn, however, in regard to the film's score. Composed by the legendary Ennio Morricone, The Mission's score includes some genuinely beautiful and moving music, but despite the score's justified long-term critical recognition, some of the tracks seem oddly inappropriate, particularly the thriller-like themes in the film's first act. While these are evocative tunes in their own right, their placement within the film results perhaps in the wrong emotion being evoked. The scenes they underscore are so intensely dramatic as written that the addition of such overtly suspenseful music is overkill, almost cartoonish. Luckily, the tender brilliance of the other more inspirational themes is what is remembered.

The Academy didn't see fit to nominate any of the cast despite some magnificent performances. Jeremy Irons portrays the calm Father Gabriel with strength and passion. Robert De Niro (pictured) is likewise powerful as the volatile Rodrigo, arguably the most physically taxing role in the film. He spends several scenes hiking up muddy inclines attached to an enormous bundle of metal. The cast weren't entirely without accolades, though. Ray McAnally nabbed BAFTA's Best Supporting Actor award for his nuanced turn as the conflicted Altamirano.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

1986 - Hannah and Her Sisters

We launch into another year of review, which is normally the time I put up the poll to decide the next year of review after that. I'd like to offer you some options from the 1930s again, but before I do that, I need to figure out which films are more easily available to me from that decade. Hence, I may need another few days of research. Stay tuned...

On another note, many of you may be aware of my previous website creation years ago - a weekly film quiz. Perhaps if I ever manage to complete this current project, I'll return to that concept, but in the meantime, I couldn't help myself. I created a couple of quizzes on Sporcle (Verbose Movie Titles and Verbose Movie Titles 2) for a bit of fun. Enjoy!

Yesterday, I began my look at the Best Picture contenders of 1986 by revisiting...


Hannah and Her Sisters
Director:
Woody Allen
Screenplay:
Woody Allen
Starring:
Woody Allen, Michael Caine, Mia Farrow, Carrie Fisher, Barbara Hershey, Lloyd Nolan, Maureen O'Sullivan, Daniel Stern, Max von Sydow, Dianne Wiest
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
3 wins, including Best Original Screenplay

Unsurprisingly, Hannah and Her Sisters is about a woman named Hannah (Farrow) and her two sisters, Lee (Hershey) and Holly (Wiest). Also prominent in the story are Hannah's ex-husband Mickey (Allen) and her current husband Elliot (Caine), plus her parents (Nolan & O'Sullivan). But I suppose Hannah and Her Sisters and Her Husbands and Her Parents was a little too long-winded as a title ... Not that Woody Allen is averse to long-winded titles. But I digress...

The film follows the trials and tribulations of this family of characters. Although married to Hannah, Elliot is head over heels in love with her sister Lee. Other sister Holly is insecure about how her business partner April (Fisher) is more talented and more attractive than she. And hypochondriac Mickey fears the worst when doctors suspect he may actually have a fatal disease.

Here's how you know that this is a Woody Allen film:

* The opening titles are white text in Windsor font on a black background, underscored by an upbeat piece of early jazz music. This, perhaps more than any other Allen trademark, elicits a familiar sensation of comfort.

* Rather than one major theme, the story examines several fundamental issues of the human condition - fidelity, mortality, insecurity, religion, love. For this film, these subjects are explored with the clever and illuminating use of inner monologues. Through voice over, the audience becomes privy to each character's private thoughts.

* Witty and very quotable one-liners permeate the script, often related to one of those fundamental issues being explored, particularly philosophy and religion. Here, we are treated to such gems as, "If Jesus came back and saw what was going on in his name, he'd never stop throwing up," and, "I was in analysis for years, nothing happened. My poor analyst got so frustrated, the guy finally put in a salad bar."

* The visual style is relatively basic. There are, of course, some exceptions to this rule within Allen's body of work, but Hannah and Her Sisters falls pretty squarely in the 'simple images' category. Which is appropriate, mind you. The material is based on those raw and honest feelings we all experience - or at least a slightly exaggerated version of the same - so the photographic simplicity is the perfect complement.

* The cast is dense with renowned actors delivering naturalistic performances. There is an almost improvisational style to each scene. People talk in half-sentences, cutting each other off constantly. The emotional displays are subtle and reserved, except perhaps for Allen's own neurotic histrionics.

* Along with the plethora of established performers in main and supporting roles, there are numerous minor roles portrayed by actors of future renown. Here, we have John Turturro, J.T. Walsh, Richard Jenkins, Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Even comedian Lewis Black makes his film debut.

* The script and the actors fared well with the Academy. For Hannah and Her Sisters, Allen won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar (his second after Annie Hall), while both Michael Caine and Dianne Wiest received awards for their supporting roles. Wiest's second Oscar eight years later was for Bullets Over Broadway, also directed by Allen. Interestingly, though, the last decade has not been so kind to Allen and his casts in this regard. Only one writing nomination (for Match Point) and one acting nomination (for Penelope Cruz in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, which she won).