Best Picture of 1942

Choosing which Best Picture nominee I would have voted for is always challenging, but when there are ten contenders, as is the case for 1942, the difficulty obviously increases. As such, the possibility exists that my decision will be inadvertently influenced by a film's longevity and position in cinematic history. There's a good chance that subconscious phenomenon has occurred for this verdict, but so be it.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1942 are:

• Kings Row
• The Invaders
• The Magnificent Ambersons
• Mrs. Miniver
• The Pied Piper
• The Pride of the Yankees
• Random Harvest
• The Talk of the Town
• Wake Island
• Yankee Doodle Dandy

Since 1942 was the first full year in which the U.S. participated in World War II, there were understandably a great deal of pictures that dealt with war themes. Four of the Best Picture nominees use the war as a main focus, while Yankee Doodle Dandy's unabashedly patriotic style features the war towards the end of the film.

Separating these films is certainly no easy task, but I managed to at least divide them into two groups, thereby leaving half of them out of the running. In no particular order, the bottom five are Kings Row, The Magnificent Ambersons, The Pride of the Yankees, Wake Island and Yankee Doodle Dandy. A lot of quality cinema right there. Indeed, many of those films are considered classics, yet for whatever reason, I found myself more fascinated by The Invaders, The Pied Piper, The Talk of the Town, Random Harvest and Mrs. Miniver.

In the end, however, and perhaps partly due to the Academy's influence, my choice for Best Picture of 1942 is the same as theirs, Mrs. Miniver.

Best Picture of 1942
Academy's choice: Mrs. Miniver	Matt's choice: Mrs. Miniver

Your choice:

What's your pick? Vote in the poll above for your favourite of 1942. You may have noticed that, during my review of 1942, I did not have the usual poll to allow for my readers to select the next year of review. That was mostly absent-mindedness, but towards the end of the review, I had hoped to be wrapped up in time to go see most of 1932/33's nominees at the Film Forum, an independent cinema here in New York which recently held a month-long retrospective of pre-Code films from 1933. Alas, I didn't come close to finishing this review, so instead, due to one of its nominees having a screening soon nearby, we'll now take a look at the 1961 race.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1961 are:

• Fanny
• The Guns of Navarone
• The Hustler
• Judgment at Nuremberg
• West Side Story

Stay tuned...

1942 - Random Harvest

In all the post-Oscars excitement, I forgot to link to this in my last post, so here it is now: the menu from my annual Oscars party.

The final nominee in the Best Picture contest of 1942 is...

Random Harvest
Director:
Mervyn LeRoy
Screenplay:
Arthur Wimperis, George Froeschel, Claudine West
(based on the novel by James Hilton)
Starring:
Ronald Colman, Greer Garson, Philip Dorn, Susan Peters, Henry Travers, Reginald Owen, Bramwell Fletcher
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
0 wins

Due to shell-shock from World War I, a British soldier (Colman) is now a patient in an asylum without any memory of his past life. Known now as John Smith, he escapes the asylum and befriends Paula (Garson), who immediately takes a liking to the amnesiac, taking him under her wing. After nursing him back to mental health and encouraging him to pursue his talent for writing, the two fall in love and get married. The fairy tale is destroyed, however, when Smithy is hit by a car in Liverpool and gets his memory back. Well, almost all of it. He now draws a blank as to what he's been doing with the past three years of life since the shell-shock. No memory of the asylum, no memory of his new-found writing skills and, sadly, no memory of Paula. Nonetheless, Paula tracks him down, becomes his secretary and patiently waits for him to regain his memory of her and their happy life. You know, what any girl in love would do.

With all its twists and turns, Random Harvest is certainly an engrossing story. Admittedly, to enjoy the tale, you must first accept the conceit that Paula would drop everything so immediately, including her career, to care for a stranger. Then, of course, there's the conceit that Paula's tender loving care would transform Smithy from a stuttering simpleton into an intelligent suave gentleman. While the transformation takes place over several months, the movie-going audience experiences the change in a split second. Still, that's not the most challenging conceit. We are then asked to concede that a second bump on the head would inexplicably reverse Smithy's memory, returning the memories of his life before the initial accident, while leaving him with no recollection whatsoever of the intervening three years. And I haven't even mentioned the conceit that Paula would reinsert herself into her lost love's life without even mentioning who she is.

The most fascinating part of this concoction of absurd unlikelihoods is that it is truly captivating. No matter how far-fetched the plot, it is always treated seriously and the result is engaging drama. With the love story at the forefront, I challenge you to watch this film without feeling an irresistible need for the two leads to end up together.

That need is undoubtedly fueled by the immense amiability of both stars. Colman is superb in the film's opening sequences as the simpleton version of his character, earning him a Best Actor Oscar nod. Garson is likewise charming and powerful, the Academy choosing instead to give her a Best Actress nomination (and win) for Mrs. Miniver this year. (Academy rules disallow a performer to receive two nominations in the same category.) Speaking of Mrs. Miniver, Garson is not the only connection between these two films. Both MGM films, Random Harvest and Mrs. Miniver share the same writing team (including James Hilton, who co-wrote Miniver and wrote the source novel here), as well as the same producer (Sidney Franklin), and many key crew members. Along with Greer Garson, character actors Henry Travers and Reginald Owen also appear in both pictures, as do several bit players. Mrs. Miniver was the darling come Oscar time, though, winning six awards from 12 nominations, while Random Harvest didn't manage to secure one from its seven nods.

1942 - Mrs. Miniver

Another Oscars ceremony over and I managed to predict 18 of the 24 categories correctly, which equals my previous best, so I'll take it. No major surprises this year. In the end, it seems Argo comfortably took the Best Picture award after all. So since I love statistics, why don't I just list my favourite Oscar stats from this year's awards...

• Argo became only the fourth film to win the big prize without achieving a Best Director nomination (after Wings, Grand Hotel and Driving Miss Daisy).
• Ang Lee's directing win is notable for the fact that he now has two Best Director Oscars for films that did not win Best Picture (previously winning for Brokeback Mountain, which lost to Crash), a rare feat.
• Daniel Day-Lewis is now only the sixth performer to have three Oscar statuettes, all three of his wins for lead roles (second only to Katharine Hepburn with four Best Actress awards).
• Christoph Waltz achieved his second acting win from only his second nomination. And since both his wins came for Quentin Tarantino films, he is now only the third person to win two acting Oscars for films by the same director (Michael Caine and Dianne Wiest both won twice for Woody Allen films). [edit: Turns out this stat isn't quite accurate. See the comments below the post.]
• The tie for Best Sound Editing is only the sixth such occurrence since the Oscars began, the first in this category. (Perhaps the most famous of the ties was in 1968 when Katharine Hepburn and Barbra Streisand shared the Best Actress award for The Lion in Winter and Funny Girl, respectively.)
• Pixar Animation Studios continued their domination of the Best Animated Feature award, winning for Brave, their seventh award (plus two more nominations) since the category was introduced 12 years ago.
• As one of the producers of Best Picture winner Argo, George Clooney won his second Oscar, his first for Best Supporting Actor for Syriana. This makes him only the second person to have won an acting Oscar and a Best Picture, along with Michael Douglas, who won Best Picture for One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest and Best Actor for Wall Street.

And now to the eventual Best Picture winner from 1942...

Mrs. Miniver
Director:
William Wyler
Screenplay:
Arthur Wimperis, George Froeschel, James Hilton, Claudine West
(based on the novel by Jan Struther)
Starring:
Greer Garson, Walter Pidgeon, Teresa Wright, Dame May Whitty, Reginald Owen, Henry Travers, Richard Ney, Henry Wilcoxon
Academy Awards:
12 nominations
6 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress (Garson), Best Supporting Actress (Wright)

Another 1942 nominee dealing with World War II, Mrs. Miniver shows us the effects the war has on a small village in England. The Minivers are a happy and well-to-do family whose lives get caught up in the war in numerous ways. Mrs. Miniver (Garson) looks after the house and her two youngest children while her husband Clem (Pidgeon) lends his assistance and his boat to the British Navy's Dunkirk evacuation, and her eldest son Vin (Ney) does his part as a fighter pilot in the Royal Air Force. The war creeps ever closer to home, however, as Germany invades London, forcing those in the village, including Mrs. Miniver and Vin's fiancee Carol (Wright), to experience it firsthand. It even comes right into the Minivers' home when a wounded German pilot holds Mrs. Miniver at gunpoint for some food and milk.

Not your typical war film, Mrs. Miniver is low on battle sequences, choosing instead to tell the story from the perspective of the civilians. We focus on life back in the village while the war rages on across the continent. Nonetheless, as the war makes its way into the village itself, we're treated to a fair share of tense and gripping scenes, just as tense and gripping as if we were following the combatants themselves. We watch on with our hearts in our mouths as the family hides in an air raid bunker as the bombs explode around them. We're on the edge of our seats as Mrs. Miniver deals with an enemy intruder in her home. And we can't look away as the aerial assault takes place directly above the town, stranding Mrs. Miniver and Carol as they attempt to drive back to the house.

Some of the cast struggle a tad with the English accents, particularly Walter Pidgeon and Richard Ney. But with a handful of British actors filling in the supporting roles, the damage is more than alleviated. Greer Garson, a Brit herself, is excellent in the title role, touching and real, earning her a Best Actress Oscar. Meanwhile, the adorable Teresa Wright garnered the Best Supporting Actress award for her strong portrayal of Carol. Almost stealing the film is Dame May Whitty (pictured), brilliantly acerbic as the upper-class Lady Beldon. The similarities to Maggie Smith's Dowager Countess in Downton Abbey are amusing, made all the more apparent when considering an almost identical storyline involving a flower show seems to have made its way into an episode of the British drama.

1942 - The Magnificent Ambersons

This year's Academy Awards ceremony is now less than 24 hours away, so my giddy excitement is a-brewing. While working on my predictions, I went back and forth on a number of categories, eventually contradicting some of what I wrote in the last few posts. The fact that the Best Picture winner is not at all clear (it's a tight race between Argo and Lincoln) is brilliantly exciting, especially for all those office Oscar pools, whose winners may well be decided on the last category of the night. Here are my humble predictions.

From the 85th Academy Awards to the 15th, here's my take on the next Best Picture nominee from 1942...

The Magnificent Ambersons
Director:
Orson Welles
Screenplay:
Orson Welles
(based on the novel by Booth Tarkington)
Starring:
Joseph Cotten, Dolores Costello, Anne Baxter, Tim Holt, Agnes Moorehead, Ray Collins, Erskine Sanford, Richard Bennett
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
0 wins

The wealthy Amberson family is the talk of a small town in the late 19th century when daughter Isabel (Costello) rejects the love of her life, automobile pioneer Eugene Morgan (Cotten), in favour of the boring Wilbur Minafer. Many years later, Eugene returns to town a widower with his beautiful daughter Lucy (Baxter). Isabel has a child, too - a terribly spoiled brat of a son, George (Holt), who takes as much a liking for Lucy as he does a disliking for Eugene. When Wilbur dies, Eugene and Isabel begin their love affair anew, much to the annoyance of Isabel's sister Fanny (Moorehead), who always harboured a thing for Eugene. Mind you, Fanny's disdain of Isabel's and Eugene's relationship doesn't hold a candle to the possessive deep-seated rage that George expresses.

The Magnificent Ambersons holds an interesting place in film history. Its acclaim as a classic is tainted somewhat by the controversy over the film's final cut. Writer/director Orson Welles lost a battle for control to RKO, the studio that financed the film, outspokenly decrying the version that was released to the public. While it is true that RKO excised a great deal of footage from the film and even reshot the ending without Welles' participation to give it a slightly more upbeat closing moment, it still can't be considered a happy ending by any stretch of the imagination. And in fact, the ending that exists is apparently more faithful to the source novel, anyway. Furthermore, it turns out that Welles' own rough cut fared poorly when presented to preview audiences, so perhaps a little snip is what it needed, especially considering it now holds a place in the US National Film Registry.

In any case, Welles' pioneering style undeniably remains in the picture. He doesn't shy away from having his actors talk over each other and innovative camera techniques abound, including some beautiful lengthy tracking shots. Welles himself can be heard as the film's narrator, even during the closing credits, which instead of scrolling text, consist of Welles somewhat indulgently announcing the cast and crew individually before signing off. In his defense, he was a radio star at the time, so this was clearly less an exercise in self-indulgence as it was his standard way of closing a show.

A pre-Bewitched Agnes Moorehead (pictured) steals the show as the down-trodden Fanny. She is consistently natural and delivers a heartbreaking climactic scene, enough to garner her a Supporting Actress Oscar nomination. Joseph Cotten also shines as the amiable Eugene. Adding to the film's drama is Bernard Herrmann's beautifully expressive score. Although, Hermann requested his name be removed from the credits due to a sizable portion of his music being edited or replaced, so I can't be entirely sure that what my ears enjoyed was his work. Nonetheless, the music is striking, whoever wrote it.

1942 - The Invaders

I'd like to write at least one more post before the Oscars ceremony on Sunday, but if the past is anything to go by, I'd better write about the Best Director and Best Picture races now, just in case.

As I've mentioned previously, based on precursor awards alone, it would not be unreasonable to predict Argo and Ben Affleck to take out the Oscar double. The film and its director have cleaned up at the major awards (Golden Globes, BAFTAs, Critics Choice, and both the Producers and Directors Guilds). However, there's one fatal flaw in that prediction - Affleck wasn't nominated for a Best Director Oscar. So that award is now up for grabs. Michael Haneke and Benh Zeitlin, helmers of Amour and Beasts of the Southern Wild, respectively, seem unlikely winners. Likewise, David O. Russell hasn't been talked about much in this category so his work on Silver Linings Playbook will most probably go unrewarded here. That leaves Steven Spielberg and Ang Lee, both previous Oscar winners, whose films this year received the most nominations overall - Lincoln nabbed twelve while Life of Pi was cited for eleven. Despite its across-the-board support, I just don't feel Life of Pi has the same momentum as Lincoln, so I'm inclined to suggest Spielberg will take home his third Oscar this weekend. I won't rule out an upset, though.

As for Best Picture, Argo was indeed nominated for that, so it still has an incredibly good shot at winning the top prize, given its success this season. However, without that Best Director nomination, it's by no means a foregone conclusion, rare as it is that Picture and Director are awarded to separate films. Furthermore, Lincoln is perhaps exactly the kind of movie the Academy loves, so maybe the safe bet is that Lincoln will claim both these two awards.

Back to the 1942 Best Picture race now and let's take a look at...

The Invaders
Director:
Michael Powell
Screenplay:
Emeric Pressburger and Rodney Ackland
Starring:
Leslie Howard, Laurence Olivier, Raymond Massey, Anton Walbrook, Eric Portman, Glynis Johns
Academy Awards:
3 nominations
1 win, Best Original Story

A British film set in Canada, The Invaders was known in its country of origin (and everywhere else in the world, for that matter) as 49th Parallel. At the outset, a Nazi U-boat makes its way into Canadian waters with the intention to invade. However, it is sunk by British planes, but not before six men escape to land. Through the ubiquitous use of map graphics, the abandoned party, led by Lieutenant Hirth (Portman) travel across Canada, finding themselves in various sticky situations, including an extended stay in a Hutterite community.

As a propaganda film, writer-director team Powell and Pressburger, made The Invaders in part to encourage the US to finally enter the Second World War. Revisiting the picture seven decades later without the perspective of a global war is undoubtedly a different experience, predominantly due to its lead characters. In most stories, film or otherwise, the character central to the plot is usually the protagonist, someone with which the audience can empathise. Here, however, the focus is on a group of Nazis on the run in Canada after a failed invasion. On the one hand, cinematic conventions create a subconscious urge to root for the main characters, particularly since we follow their adventures for a full two hours. On the other hand ... well, they're Nazis and they shoot people. It's a strange feeling. I suppose, then, that is where the film's cleverness lies. These unpleasant men, carrying a misguided patriotism and delusional views of world domination, insidiously weasel their way through scenario after scenario, yet we remain intrigued and captivated by their fate. The suspense as they attempt to avoid capture is in no way lessened by the fact that we don't care for them. In fact, in a way, it is amplified, since we still clearly have a stake in the outcome.

It is somewhat confusing at the beginning of the film to hear all the Germans speak with such eloquent British accents. While the convention is accepted soon enough, there still remains an odd verisimilitude. One imagines that Germans speaking English in Canada would be found out immediately due to their accents and broken English, yet time and time again, the Canadians are entirely unaware that these men are anything out of the ordinary, well spoken as they are.

Despite the three names above the title in the film's poster, Eric Portman is without a doubt the lead, and he carries the film superbly. His Nazi Lieutenant is frighteningly passionate, yet it is a subtle performance that finds its way under your skin without being obviously evil. The great Laurence Olivier (pictured) could be rather hit and miss in his early days, and his tendency for larger than life characters is distinctly on display here as an excitable French-Canadian with an excitable accent. And come to think of it, why does he have an accent when the German characters don't? Leslie Howard also shines as a happy-go-lucky British writer who discovers his own courage. And speaking of the poster, why on earth the main image is of Olivier carrying the young Glynis Johns, I have no idea. Both are undeniably supporting players. Not to mention the fact that they never share the screen together.

1942 - Wake Island

A few days ago, I offered my thoughts on the supporting performance categories at this year's Academy Awards. Today, let's look at the two leading actor categories.

The Best Actor award is Daniel Day-Lewis' to lose. His performance in Lincoln has swept just about every industry and critic's award so far this season. An Oscar win this year would not only earn him a rare third acting Oscar (only five others have achieved that feat) but it would also mean he had won thrice in the leading role category, placing him second only to Katherine Hepburn, whose four awards were all for Best Actress. Hugh Jackman is perhaps his closest rival for the award, but it doesn't look good for Wolverine.

Best Actress is more competitive, essentially a toss-up between Jessica Chastain for Zero Dark Thirty and Jennifer Lawrence for Silver Linings Playbook. Both won Golden Globes for their performances, but Lawrence won the SAG award. (Unexpectedly, Emmanuelle Riva won the BAFTA, but I rate her chances for an upset at the Oscars rather low.) It's tough to separate these two fine actresses, but knowing the Academy's lack of love for comedy films - and despite Silver Linings Playbook's dramatic overtones, it is still far more comedic than any other major Oscar contender this year - the pendulum may well swing towards Chastain.

Meanwhile, our review of 1942's Best Picture Oscar nominees continues with...

Wake Island

Director:

John Farrow

Screenplay:

W.R. Burnett and Frank Butler

Starring:

Brian Donlevy, Macdonald Carey, Robert Preston, Albert Dekker, William Bendix, Walter Abel

Academy Awards:

4 nominations

0 wins

Wake Island is the true story of the US Marines attempt at securing the eponymous island at the heels of constant Japanese attacks. Released within a year of the actual events depicted, the film centres on two Marines, Private Doyle (Preston) and Private Randall (Bendix), two troublemakers who dream of life after the war. The new man in charge, Major Geoffrey Caton (Donlevy), commands coolly yet sternly, locking horns with civilian Shad McClosky (Dekker), who has a military contract to build the squadron's trenches. The day Randall is scheduled to be discharged, word arrives that the Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor, and thus the prolonged battle begins for those stationed at Wake Island.

There's certainly no denying Wake Island is an action film. The battle scenes are plentiful and epic. Initially, though, they feel slightly by-the-numbers, more concerned with presenting as many explosions as possible rather than delivering genuinely exciting action. It doesn't help that these sequences are a tad difficult to follow - there are so many individual shots of planes flying around and closeups of pilots, without any wide shots to properly identify everyone's relative location. And when all we see is a closeup of a bomb being released followed by an explosion, it's somewhat unclear as to which plane released the bomb and which one exploded. To be fair, this confusion is perhaps the result of budgetary and, more likely, technological constraints, rather than lacklustre direction. On the other hand, a lack of money and technology is no excuse for a seated man, when shot at close range, to rise out of his chair before fatally falling to the floor. That's just cheesy.

Nonetheless, the action eventually hits it stride in the sequence in which Major Caton waits for the Japanese ships to approach before ordering his men to fire. As the ships get closer and closer, the suspense is almost unbearable. The film effectively holds on to this suspense as the squadron continues to hold off the Japanese assault, attack after attack, for the next couple of weeks. Unfortunately, however - spoiler alert - the Marines ultimately fail. Not being well versed in this aspect of World War II history, I guess I assumed this picture would be another patriotic tale of American military success. While the Marines do indeed flex that famous US military might, and granted, the film is undoubtedly patriotic, the ending remains an abrupt letdown. I suppose, given the actual result, it's hard to fault the film for being historically accurate, yet other war films manage to create satisfying conclusions despite a military loss. Of course, those war films tend not to be as patriotic, which is perhaps Wake Island's main focus.

Robert Preston (20 years before The Music Man) and William Bendix (pictured) are a fun duo, and do well to hold the film together, providing the comic relief. Bendix, in particular, is charming and likable, despite his oafishness. Brian Dunlevy is also strong as the disciplined yet respected commanding officer.

1942 - The Pied Piper

Ben Affleck's frustration over being denied a Best Director Oscar nomination is once again alleviated (or enhanced, depending on your perspective) after his win at the BAFTAs yesterday. His film Argo also took out the Best Film, so the conundrum I discussed in my last post continues...

Anyway, as this year's Academy Awards ceremony rapidly approaches, let's take a deeper look at some of the races, starting with the Supporting categories.

The Supporting Actress Oscar has all but been engraved with Anne Hathaway's name on it. She has won almost all of the precursor awards for her role in Les Miserables and is a clear favourite. Lincoln's Sally Field is perhaps the only possible upset but I don't put her chances very high at all.

Supporting Actor is a bit more complicated. At one time, I had my money on Philip Seymour Hoffman in The Master, who had taken a whole bunch of the critics' prizes. But Django Unchained's Christoph Waltz won the critic's awards that Hoffman didn't, plus the Golden Globe. And now, with his win yesterday at the BAFTAs, he may be the frontrunner. Don't rule out Tommy Lee Jones, though, who won the SAG Award for his performance in Lincoln, and in fact, Robert De Niro is never a name to dismiss, so there's even a small chance he could walk away with the trophy for Silver Linings Playbook. Having said all that, I still think Waltz is the greatest chance for a win, which would give him two wins from two nominations, both Tarantino films.

More discussion next time, but for now, we movie on to another 1942 Best Picture nominee...

The Pied Piper
Director:
Irving Pichel
Screenplay:
Nunnally Johnson
(based on the novel by Nevil Shute)
Starring:
Monty Woolley, Roddy McDowall, Anne Baxter, Otto Preminger
Academy Awards:
3 nominations
0 wins

If you're expecting the fairy tale version of this story, you'll be disappointed. Although, happily this picture has a far less nasty ending than the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Based on a novel, this version follows Englishman Mr. Howard (Woolley), whose fishing holiday in France is interrupted by the German invasion of WWII. He reluctantly agrees to chaperone two young children on his journey back to England, but soon his travelling party increases in size as more and more orphans and otherwise abandoned children tag along. Howard's initial dislike of children slowly gives way to affection as he attempts to keep them all safe on the treacherous passage through occupied France.

The Pied Piper offers a clever mix of humour and drama, a rare dramedy of its time. There is no mistaking that the stakes are high and a few sequences don't shy away from the horrors of the war. Yet, the central character's familiar stereotype - the grumpy old man - is rife with comedic opportunity and Nunnally Johnson's witty dialogue takes full advantage. Exhibit A: When Howard is arguing with an official at the train station, he exclaims that he has two small children. The official responds, "At your age, monsieur, that is undoubtedly magnificent," and walks away.

After watching Kings Row and hearing its gloriously expressive score, the music in The Pied Piper seemed decidedly dull. The main theme is a variation on Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which, appropriate as it may be for a film about children, is not the most exciting melody.

Monty Woolley (pictured, with Baxter) epitomises the grumpy old man with a heart of gold. He is bitingly acerbic, yet soft enough that we are always on his side. Renowned director Otto Preminger (of Laura and Anatomy of a Murder fame) is brilliantly slimy in a rare on screen role as the Nazi Major.

1942 - Kings Row

For the first time in a long time, I actually have some spare time, which increases the chances of more movies being reviewed for this blog. Time will tell...

It also allowed me to cram in a bunch of the current awards season's movies before I missed the deadline to vote in the SAG awards. Still a few more Oscar contenders to see, but I've caught up a little bit.

The most fascinating aspect of this awards season is Argo's domination of the major awards so far. Since its director, Ben Affleck, was left off the Academy's Best Director shortlist, that seemed to close the door on the film winning Best Picture, yet it has won the main gongs at the Critic's Choice, Golden Globe and Producer's Guild ceremonies. Plus, it won the SAG's Ensemble award and Affleck himself took out the Director's Guild's top prize. Quite the conundrum.

More on this year's Oscars in the next couple of weeks, but for now, on to the next review, which is another nominee from the 1942 Best Picture race...

Kings Row

Director:

Sam Wood

Screenplay:

Casey Robinson

(based on the novel by Henry Bellamann)

Starring:

Ann Sheridan, Robert Cummings, Ronald Reagan, Betty Field, Charles Coburn, Claude Rains, Judith Anderson, Nancy Coleman, Kaaren Verne, Maria Ouspenskaya, Harry Davenport

Academy Awards:

3 nominations

0 wins

It's almost impossible to outline the plot of Kings Row without using major spoilers, mostly because so many life-changing events happen to each of the characters, but I'll give it a try. In the small town of Kings Row in the late nineteenth century, a young boy named Parris Mitchell spends his free time getting to know pretty outcast Cassie. Her father, Dr. Tower (Rains), unexpectedly removes Cassie from school and confines her to their house. Years later, the adult Parris (Cummings), now studying to be a psychiatrist under the tutelage of Dr. Tower, begins a secret obstacle-laden love affair with Cassie (Field), who is still essentially homebound. Meanwhile, Parris' best friend, suave rich kid Drake (Reagan), also struggles to build a lasting relationship with another doctor's daughter Louise (Coleman). Her father, Dr. Gordon (Coburn), forbids the relationship, so Drake eventually falls for ex-tomboy Randy (Sheridan). 

The aforementioned life-changers help to make Kings Row quite a captivating story, full of mystery and a fair share of twists and turns. There's love, there's a near-fatal accident, there's murder. And if that weren't enough for this cast of characters to deal with, they all seem to be mortified of getting a bad reputation. Whether it's from mental illness, physical disability, or associating with a lower class, it's all about keeping up appearances for this bunch and not subjecting their name or their family's name to any perceived shame. Sort of like a Merchant-Ivory film, but without the accents or the sumptuous sets and costumes.

Erich Korngold's score for Kings Row is grand and evocative, adding greatly to the film's appeal. As I listened to it, I immediately heard a striking similarity to John Williams' legendary Star Wars main theme. The first phrase of both films' themes are almost identical, as one YouTube user has also pointed out. However, the music is clearly where the similarity between this film and the sci-fi blockbuster ends.

As an old-fashioned Hollywood movie, Kings Row does contain some old-fashioned Hollywood dialogue. Consequently, some of the performances occasionally feel cheesy or melodramatic, but in a way, this style suits the larger than life story well. Indeed, by the end of the film, it's hard to even notice. The one exception to the hamminess is Claude Rains, whose portrayal of the strict Dr. Tower is subtle and fascinating. Also worthy of mention is future U.S. President Ronald Reagan, who is lively and charming as Drake.

Oscar Nomination Predictions 2012

I think that in the three and a half years I've been running this blog, this is the first time since the introductory post that I've posted something that is not a review of a nominee or a verdict. But I just couldn't resist getting my Oscar nomination predictions out into the world. And since I haven't watched another nominee from the current year of review and the Oscar nominations are announced in merely hours, I'll just have to post my predictions on their own. So, without further ado, here they be.

I can't say I'm completely satisfied with them this year. I didn't really spend as long on choosing them as I usually do. But no excuses, I stand by them anyway. I can't wait for the ceremony this year. It feels like there isn't really a front-runner in so many of the categories, so it truly will be a surprising year. Then again, we have the Golden Globes, Critics Choice Awards, plus all the guilds to come before the Oscars, so it may not be so surprising come February.

1942 - The Pride of the Yankees

Happy New Year to all my readers! It would perhaps be a little obvious if I were to make a resolution to pick up the pace of this project, but I sincerely hope to do so in 2013. (Otherwise, it may take decades to complete!)

Anyway, 2012 was a big year for other activities in my life. I started a theatre company with my wife. We produced two successful shows, our most recent even receiving a positive review from the Huffington Post. I also made my U.S. network television debut with a small role on Law & Order: SVU. Well, technically, I suppose, the debut will be when it airs on January 9th on NBC, so set your DVRs.

The last film watched for Matt vs. the Academy in 2012 was another nominee from 1942's Best Picture contest...

The Pride of the Yankees
Director:
Sam Wood
Screenplay:
Jo Swerling, Herman J. Mankiewicz, Paul Gallico
Starring:
Gary Cooper, Teresa Wright, Babe Ruth, Walter Brennan, Dan Duryea, Elsa Janssen, Ludwig Stossel
Academy Awards:
11 nominations
1 win, for Best Film Editing

A touching biopic that covers the life and times of legendary baseball player Lou Gehrig (Cooper), The Pride of the Yankees follows him from his start in college baseball through to his record-breaking career with the New York Yankees. With the encouragement of his father (Stossel), the eventual acceptance of his controlling mother (Janssen) and the ongoing support of sportswriter Sam Blake (Brennan), Gehrig became a baseball star with wife Eleanor Twitchell (Wright) by his side.

It is somewhat fitting that The Pride of the Yankees came directly after Yankee Doodle Dandy in this project. Aside from the presence of the word 'Yankee' in their titles, they both are fascinating biographies of much-loved American heroes, one a song-and-dance man, the other a baseball legend. While they may seem to be two disparate careers, they are linked by the way in which they so successfully captured the hearts of their fans. They were also both extremely dedicated to their respective crafts, giving all their time to their chosen professions.

However, the similarities perhaps end there. Whereas Cohan was brash, confident and extroverted, Gehrig was shy, quiet and introverted. Gehrig also had his fair share of obstacles on his way to the top, the lack of such I lamented in Cohan's story. Gehrig's struggles, consequently, are what make The Pride of the Yankees the more fascinating of the two biopics.

If I were to find flaw in The Pride of the Yankees, I suppose it would be in the occasional shifting of genres. The majority of the picture is clearly a dramatic biography with a love story at the forefront, yet some overblown comedy creeps in, specifically in the characters of Gehrig's parents. The drama, too, sometimes feels overwrought and contrived, particularly when Gehrig's mother displays her overbearing nature towards Eleanor. Nonetheless, the final portion of the film, while admittedly sentimental, is both moving and inspiring.

Gary Cooper (pictured) is wonderfully cast in the lead, his awkward yet amiable persona earning him a Best Actor nod. Teresa Wright also delivers a strong performance as Gehrig's wife, nominated for Best Actress, and while she didn't win this one, she won a Supporting Actress Oscar the same year for Mrs. Miniver. The real surprise in the cast is Babe Ruth. Yep, that's actually Yankees legend Babe Ruth playing himself, pulling off one of the most natural performances by an athlete-turned-actor. Ruth appears very comfortable in front of the camera, lively and fascinating to watch.

Lastly, it would be remiss of me not to mention Ludwig Stossel, who plays Gehrig's father, only because this is the man who, in another film, utters what is possibly my favourite line in cinematic history. When we get to reviewing 1943, I'll elaborate, but for now, enjoy this.

1942 - Yankee Doodle Dandy

As has become the norm lately, I've left the gap between posts grow so much that I now have too many things to talk about in my little preamble here. Especially considering that it's coming into awards season and there will be lots to talk about in the coming weeks. On that note, the first thing to mention is that Kat and I were lucky enough to be among the first audience to see the finished version of Les Miserables. Director Tom Hooper introduced the special screening, commenting (perhaps with hyperbole) that he had only completed the movie at 2 a.m. that morning. The film is quite simply amazing. With all the singing recorded live (rather than having actors pre-tape them, then lip-sync on set), the emotion of the incredibly dramatic songs is, at times, overpowering. This has Oscar written all over it. Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman, particularly.

Two acting gigs to mention. First, I shot a guest role on an episode of Law & Order: SVU last week. I play Counselor Andy Guthrie, a court-appointed attorney who is up against the hard-as-nails DA for a suburban district, played by Jane Kaczmarek (of Malcolm in the Middle fame). So much fun. The episode is due to air on January 9th on NBC.

Second, Kat's and my theatre company's latest play, Speaking In Tongues, has just opened to rave reviews (from Backstage and Show Business Weekly, among others). If you're in the New York City area in the next two weeks, come and see us. We play until December 16th.

With a couple of days off from performances, I watched the next nominee from the Best Picture shortlist of 1942...

Yankee Doodle Dandy
Director:
Michael Curtiz
Screenplay:
Robert Buckner and Edmund Joseph
Starring:
James Cagney, Joan Leslie, Walter Huston, Richard Whorf, Irene Manning, George Tobias, Rosemary DeCamp, Jeanne Cagney
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
3 wins, including Best Actor (Cagney)

A traditional biopic of Broadway pioneer, George M. Cohan (James Cagney), Yankee Doodle Dandy literally tells the story of his life. From his birth on the fourth of July to his regional vaudeville act with his parents (Huston and DeCamp) and sister (Jeanne Cagney) to his professional partnership with Sam Harris (Whorf) and his romantic partnership with Mary (Leslie) to his conquering of Broadway, the story is book-ended by a trip to the White House to meet President Roosevelt, who presents Cohan with the Congressional Gold Medal.

As you would expect from a decades-spanning biopic, things move relatively fast. Add to that the numerous musical numbers (including recognizable hits "Give My Regards To Broadway" and "Over There") and there's not much time to spend on any one incident in Cohan's life. Consequently, his ascent to theatrical success seems to occur without much struggle. Most problems sort themselves out rather quickly, partly due to Cohan's easy-going spouse, who hardly bats an eyelid when Cohan allows another woman to sing "Mary Is a Grand Old Name", a song he wrote for her.

The biggest conflict that arises in the picture is Cohan's arrogance as a fledgling performer, demanding better deals and causing lost contracts for his family. If Cohan as an adult were depicted in this way, the film may have been edgier, but Cohan outgrows this behaviour early on and, despite holding on to his passionate drive to succeed, he remains rather pleasant. And "pleasant" is a good word to describe the picture as a whole. Since Cohan is mostly a nice guy, the drama never gets particularly heavy, so the result is a film that puts a smile on your face, which, considering it is a musical, is probably its intent.

James Cagney is infinitely appealing in this role and is an impressive song-and-dance man himself, a sentiment the Academy clearly agreed with since they presented him a Best Actor Oscar. And in a bout of nepotistic casting, Cagney's real-life sister, Jeanne, plays his on-screen sister, Josie. Yankee Doodle Dandy's witty script is also worthy of attention, represented by the following random example of its dialogue: while in Switzerland, Cohan tries yodelling, describing it as "Nothing but hog calling with frost on it."

1942 - The Talk of the Town

Another long delay between posts. Così has finished, and Australian Made Entertainment has already begun preparations for its next production, Speaking In Tongues. So busy have I been in the interim that it took a hurricane to shut down everything else I've been doing and free up enough time to watch another movie. Although, it's now taken another week to actually write about it.

Fortunately, Kat and I, and our houseguest Susie, who clearly chose a horrible time to visit New York, were all safe and sound in our apartment during the storm. Even more fortunately, we never lost power, unlike many others in neighbouring counties and states, who lost that and a whole lot more. We're feeling very lucky.

So, with the winds blowing and the DVD player still working, we watched the first of 1942's Best Picture nominees...

The Talk of the Town

Director:

George Stevens

Screenplay:

Irwin Shaw, Sidney Buchman, Dale Van Every, Sidney Harmon

Starring:

Cary Grant, Jean Arthur, Ronald Colman, Edgar Buchanan, Glenda Farrell, Charles Dingle, Emma Dunn, Rex Ingram

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

0 wins

Charged with arson and murder, innocent mill worker Leopold Dilg (Grant) escapes from police custody and convinces schoolteacher Nora Shelley (Arthur) to hide him out in her rental property. Inconveniently, Nora has rented the house to esteemed law professor and Supreme Court candidate Michael Lightcap (Colman) for the summer. Posing as the gardener, Dilg enjoys deep legal discussions with Lightcap and the two begin an unlikely friendship. With the help of Nora and his own lawyer, Dilg attempts to surreptitiously persuade Lightcap to get involved in the arson case, hoping his influence will help expose the truly guilty parties. Unsurprisingly, a love triangle develops, as both Dilg and Lightcap vie for Nora's affections.

The opening sequence of The Talk of the Town seems to set the film up as a noir thriller - a wrongly accused man escapes from police custody to clear his name and fight the oppressive corporate mastermind who tried to bring him down. The photography is dark and newspapers with big headlines twirl towards the camera every few seconds. Then almost immediately, farce and even some occasional slapstick well and truly take over, and the picture's screwball comedy nature reveals itself. However, the moral explorations still remain, particularly the question of whether it's ever morally right to disobey the law, and it is all mixed seamlessly together with the comedy to create a thoughtful and entertaining story.

The film received an impressive seven Oscar nominations, including a Best Picture nod, but was unable to convert any of them into a win. Somewhat surprisingly, with so many nominations, none were for the actors, despite appealing performances from the three leads. Cary Grant is affable (as usual), even with such a passionate cause. The delectable Jean Arthur is adorably goofy as the girl trying to hold it all together. But Ronald Colman's nonchalant delivery steals the show, a truly elegant gentleman. And look out for a very young Lloyd Bridges playing a pushy reporter.

Best Picture of 1971

My good intentions of wrapping up this year of review quickly have clearly failed. Who would have thought producing a play would be so all-encompassing? Così, the play in which Kat and I are acting in and producing is now in its final week and I'm finally beginning to come up for air. We've had some great reviews and wonderful audiences, so if you're in New York City, get your tickets to the madness. We play until Sunday.

Now, at long last, let's review the latest contenders...

The nominees for Best Picture of 1971 are:

• A Clockwork Orange
• Fiddler on the Roof
• The French Connection
• The Last Picture Show
• Nicholas and Alexandra

All five are extremely entertaining films, fine examples of their respective genres, and interestingly, all five essentially end on downers. Perhaps the Academy was feeling depressed in 1971. Between getting kicked out of their hometown, failing to catch the bad guy and being executed, the protagonists in these films don't experience your typical Hollywood endings.

In no particular order, I will remove from competition Nicholas and Alexandra, an exquisitely presented and sumptuously designed period epic and The Last Picture Show, an engrossing slice-of-life coming-of-age drama. A tougher choice is the decision to eliminate Stanley Kubrick's dystopian masterpiece A Clockwork Orange, whose heavily stylized tone, while fascinating, keeps the audience at a distance.

Perhaps it's a guilty pleasure, but Fiddler on the Roof remains a very comfortable film for me, warm and inviting. Yet it will give way to the utterly gripping The French Connection. Despite its intensely unsatisfying ending, this cop thriller is so edge-of-your-seat brilliant that it could have ended with aliens inexplicably landing on earth destroying the entire planet and I still would have picked it as my favourite Best Picture nominee of 1971.

Best Picture of 1971
Academy's choice: The French Connection	Matt's choice: The French Connection

Your choice:

What is your favourite among this fine bunch of nominees? Have your say in the poll above. Next up (and be patient, it might be a while before I get to it) we move back to a golden era of Hollywood for a selection of classics.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1942 are:

• The Invaders
• Kings Row
• The Magnificent Ambersons
• Mrs. Miniver
• The Pied Piper
• The Pride of the Yankees
• Random Harvest
• The Talk of the Town
• Wake Island
• Yankee Doodle Dandy

Stay tuned...

1971 - The Last Picture Show

Rehearsals are well under way for Cosi, the first production of Australian Made Entertainment, the theatre (and eventually, film) company that Kat and I recently formed. We begin performances on September 7 in New York City, only three and a half weeks away, so if you're going to be in the area, get your tickets now.

We now turn our attention to the final nominee from the Best Picture race of 1971...

The Last Picture Show
Director:
Peter Bogdanovich
Screenplay:
Larry McMurtry and Peter Bogdanovich
(based on the novel by Larry McMurtry)
Starring:
Timothy Bottoms, Jeff Bridges, Cybill Shepherd, Ben Johnson, Cloris Leachman, Ellen Burstyn, Eileen Brennan, Clu Gulager, Sam Bottoms, Sharon Taggart, Randy Quaid, Joe Heathcock
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
2 wins, for Best Supporting Actor (Johnson) and Best Supporting Actress (Leachman)

Contrary to my usual rule, my viewing of The Last Picture Show was of the director's cut, not of the original version that played in cinemas in 1971, which appears to be difficult to find. Nonetheless, with only seven minutes of additional footage, I think we can let it slide.

It's 1951 in a small town in Texas. Sonny Crawford (Bottoms) is a senior in high school and doesn't really have any plans, either for tomorrow or for the rest of his life. His best friend Duane (Bridges) is dating the spoiled Jacy (Shepherd), a strained relationship if ever there was one. After Sonny breaks up with his girlfriend Charlene (Taggart), who he never really cared about anyway, he begins an affair with his football coach's middle-aged wife Ruth (Leachman). Stumbling from one day to the next, Sonny impulsively takes a trip to Mexico with Duane, takes over the town's pool hall, begins a flirtation with Jacy, and generally comes of age.

Being set in the early 1950s, director Peter Bogdanovich cleverly replicates the style of film-making during that era. The film is shot in black-and-white and, during some of the darker scenes, the lighting often employs that stark contrast effect in which an actor in close-up moves in and out of a small sliver of bright light. The performances, too, are sometimes filled with a 1950s bravado and enthusiasm, typical of the acting style back then.

However, the most fascinating element is the incongruity that results from the pairing of this nostalgic style with the solemn and crude subject matter. During the actual time period, it seems unimaginable that such sexuality and bad language would have appeared on film, but twenty years later, without the shackles of censorship, The Last Picture Show is free to create a sobering look at life in a small town. Stylistically, though, it remains in the 1950s, creating a slight feeling of unease.

The story certainly doesn't rush. With its slice-of-life approach, the characters plod along, experiencing things unfolding without any main driving goal at the forefront of the plot. Which is not to say that nothing happens. The film is full of major events, and considering the plight of the younger characters, could easily be described as a coming-of-age story - kind of a cruder small-town version of American Graffiti. Sex is clearly a focus, particularly the awkwardness of first encounters, but in no way could it be said that any of the sex scenes in this picture are actually sexy. In one scene, for instance, our attention is directed toward the awkward noises of the squeaking bed as one participant attempts to hold back tears.

Timothy Bottoms (pictured) carries the film well with a very understated performance as a young man trying to make sense of his world. He is joined by several young stars in the making. Cybill Shepherd, in her film debut, is extremely effective as the manipulative girl with powerful eyelid-batting skills. Also on debut, Randy Quaid is delightfully awkward as the patient rich kid. Jeff Bridges deservedly scored his first Oscar nomination for his breakout role, but was beaten to the Best Supporting Actor trophy by his co-star Ben Johnson, who delivers a moving performance as the surrogate patriarch. The film also received two Supporting Actress nominations, the first for Ellen Burstyn's fantastic portrayal of a woman attempting in vain to prevent her daughter from making the same mistakes she made. Cloris Leachman clinched the Oscar, though, with an incredibly touching performance, capped off by a memorable outburst near the end of the film. And yes, that's Magnum P.I.'s right-hand man, Higgins (a.k.a John Hillerman) as the school teacher at the beginning.

For a bit of extra trivia appropriate to this blog, some of the characters in the film attend a screening of Father of the Bride, which is itself a Best Picture nominee.

1971 - The French Connection

It's not often the timing works out that one of the nominees from a year I'm currently reviewing happens to be scheduled for a retrospective screening in New York City during that time. Such was the case with the next subject of review, which had a one-day only engagement at BAM Rose Cinemas, which, if memory serves, is a Matt vs. the Academy first. Of course, had I been speedier with my look at the rest of the nominees, I would have been entirely finished with the current year of review and missed the opportunity all together. In any case, it certainly was a thrill to see this picture up on the big screen. In fact, I worry that it may give this film an unfair advantage in my final verdict, since the experience of watching a movie in a darkened cinema is far more all-engrossing than watching on a smaller screen at home, susceptible to all sorts of distractions.

Advantage or not, here are my musings on this nominee from the 1971 Best Picture race...

The French Connection
Director:
William Friedkin
Screenplay:
Ernest Tidyman
(based on the book by Robin Moore)
Starring:
Gene Hackman, Fernando Rey, Roy Scheider, Tony Lo Bianco, Marcel Bozzuffi, Frédéric de Pasquale, Bill Hickman
Academy Awards:
8 nominations
5 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor (Hackman)

Narcotics cop "Popeye" Doyle (Hackman) and his partner Russo (Scheider) become suspicious of small business owner Sal Boca (Lo Bianco) after they witness him entertaining mob men known for drug trafficking. Acting on a hunch, they trail Boca, following lead after lead, eventually uncovering a drug smuggling ring, headed by French crime boss Alain Charnier (Rey). Committed and determined, Doyle leads the charge to bust Charnier and his henchmen, at often dangerously high risk.

Gritty and realistic, The French Connection delivers an almost documentary-style story, complete with shaky, hand-held camera work and voyeuristic, fly-on-the-wall long shots. Everything is raw and unpolished from the performances to the design. Even the film print I saw was dirty. I realise, of course, that the Blu-ray is probably crystal clear, but the graininess of the film print actually seemed strangely appropriate for this picture, possibly even enhancing the viewing experience.

The details of the drug ring central to the plot may be complex but, at its heart, The French Connection employs a solidly simple cops-and-robbers story, or more accurately, cops-and-drug-traffickers. Most of the scenes consist of some variation of a cop following a criminal, whether it's tailing an alleged conspirator or an out-and-out chase scene, and consequently, the tension is extremely high throughout. Of particular note is the suspensefully amusing on-the-train, off-the-train sequence when Doyle unsuccessfully follows Charnier into the subway. And, of course, later comes the legendary chase scene which begins with Doyle flagging down a passing motorist and hijacking his car, a Hollywood cliche that is thankfully forgotten quickly as the chase gets under way. Then comes some of the most exhilarating few minutes ever committed to celluloid as we follow along in the backseat of the car as it careens underneath an elevated track attempting to keep up with the speeding train above. Listening to director William Friedkin and others talk about the making of this sequence, it's easy to understand why it feels so spectacularly authentic.

If there's one gripe I have about The French Connection, it would have to be the conclusion. I have talked about unsatisfying endings a fair amount in the past, but this picture's ending really takes the cake. It could even be said that it doesn't really have an ending. We spend almost the entire film watching Doyle and his colleagues chase the bad guys only to have a caption inform us that the main antagonist escaped and was never found. Not only that but in the final nail-biting scene, Doyle accidentally fatally shoots one of his own team, and the closing credits begin less than a minute later with barely an acknowledgement of the severity of such a turn of events, let alone a resolution. Luckily, the rest of the film is so profoundly engrossing. Plus, there's the fact that the story is loosely based on real events, so I suppose I should be more lenient.

As I mentioned, the performances are emotionally pure and candid with a distinct improvisational feel, adding to the documentary style of the picture. It is Gene Hackman's (pictured) film, however, and he is nothing short of sublime, well deserving of his Best Actor Oscar for this role. For the trivia buffs, Eddie Egan, the real cop on whom the character of Doyle is based, appears as the detectives' supervisor, Walt Simonson. Egan's real-life partner, Sonny Grosso, himself the basis for the Russo character, also appears in a minor role.

1971 - A Clockwork Orange

It's been a busy few weeks as Kat and I have been getting all the pieces together for the inaugural production of our theatre company, Australian Made Entertainment. In September, we will be presenting Cosi, a classic Aussie comedy about a bunch of mental patients who cobble together a performance of Mozart's opera, Cosi fan tutte. If you can't make it to New York in September, you could always check out the film version, which I believe is also available on Netflix. In any case, be sure to 'like' us on Facebook to keep up to date with our progress.

After a hectic week, I managed to squeeze in a viewing of another Best Picture nominee from 1971's contest...

A Clockwork Orange
Director:
Stanley Kubrick
Screenplay:
Stanley Kubrick
(based on the novel by Anthony Burgess)
Starring:
Malcolm McDowell, Patrick Magee, Adrienne Corri, Miriam Karlin, Godfrey Quigley, Anthony Sharp, Warren Clarke, Aubrey Morris, Michael Bates
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
0 wins

In an indeterminate futuristic time period, London has a serious crime problem with gangs of young thugs terrorising innocent citizens on a regular basis. One such gang of "droogs", led by Alex (McDowell), enjoys a night of "ultra-violence", first beating up a homeless man and then assaulting writer Frank Alexander (Magee) and raping his wife (Corri) in a home invasion. The next night, after Alex brutally rapes another woman (Karlin), his "droogs" turn on him, leaving him to be caught by the police. When the woman later dies, Alex is sentenced to prison for murder.

A couple of years later, Alex becomes a test subject for a new aversion therapy, a rapid conditioning technique intended to cure violent tendencies in criminals. While agreeing to the treatment gives him a get-out-of-jail-free card, he soon struggles with its often disturbing and inhumane effects.

Stanley Kubrick certainly knows how to give a film a distinctive style. Each of his films is unique in its presentation and A Clockwork Orange is perhaps his most stylised, in large part due to Anthony Burgess' source novel, which supplies the film's dialogue with some peculiar new English words. Burgess essentially created a new dialect that is best described as a Russian-influenced English. While it certainly lends the story an air of originality, it sometimes comes across as rather childish, as in the case of "eggiwegs".

Another standard of a Kubrick film is its sumptuous design and again, A Clockwork Orange is no exception. The retro-futuristic sets are beautifully fascinating, as are the strange costumes, particularly Alex's mother's weirdly inappropriate outfits. We are also treated to some inventive make-up as each of the central droogs displays an individual, asymmetric style. Even the music is somewhat stylised. While most of the score consists of classical music, it is juxtaposed with occasional moments of electronica, just in case we forgot we were in the future.

The one possible drawback of all this heavy style, however, is that it risks putting the audience at a bit of a distance. The very serious issues of the psychology of crime and the moral implications of brainwashing seem less accessible because of how abstractly they are presented. One such oddity is the "performance" to demonstrate Alex's reformation, as actors subject him to a sort of evil version of Punk'd. The artificiality also makes it easy to desensitise oneself to the violence in the film. I mean, how seriously can you take an assailant when he assaults his victims while dancing and crooning "Singin' in the Rain"? Or beats a lady with an oversized penis sculpture? Well, actually, those scenes are kind of creepy. In fact, despite the style, there are plenty of emotionally moving moments, so maybe the point is made.

While the character of Alex is unmistakably theatrical, Malcolm McDowell (pictured) at times shows clever restraint in his breakout role as the troubled youth. Other actors fail to avoid consistently theatrical performances, namely Patrick Magee, whose wild facial ticks are somewhat distracting. On the other hand, Michael Bates' pantomime portrayal of an enthusiastically gruff prison guard has its funny moments. Star Wars fans may appreciate seeing the man inside the Darth Vader suit, David Prowse, as Frank's placid attendant, Julian.