1972 - Sounder

As this year's Oscar contenders all jostle for position, I'm taking advantage of the available screenings and Q&As. So far, I've managed to see Call Me By Your Name, Mudbound and Darkest Hour, all of which I thoroughly enjoyed and all of which have strong prospects for multiple nominations. It's clear to me why Gary Oldman is the early frontrunner for Best Actor. I also saw The Meyerowitz Stories and though I'm not confident about its chances at the Oscars, hearing Dustin Hoffman and Adam Sandler talk after the screening was probably my favourite Q&A experience of the lot. Additionally, I slummed it to a regular cinema to enjoy Battle of the Sexes and Lady Bird, both of which are highly likely to see acting nominations, too, maybe even wins. Emma Stone is fantastic as Billie Jean King, and while Saoirse Ronan has a good shot at a Best Actress nomination, I think her on-screen mother, Laurie Metcalf actually has a better shot at taking home the Supporting Actress award.

But back to the 1972 Best Picture contenders now as we review...

Sounder
Director:
Martin Ritt
Screenplay:
Lonne Elder III
(based on the novel by William H. Armstrong)
Starring:
Cicely Tyson, Paul Winfield, Kevin Hooks, Carmen Matthews, Taj Mahal, James Best, Janet MacLachlan
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
0 wins

A poverty-stricken African-American family struggle to make ends meet in Depression-era Louisiana. When things get desperate, the head of the household, Nathan (Winfield), steals some meat to feed his family but is later arrested and sentenced to hard labour. His wife, Rebecca (Tyson), sends oldest son David Lee (Hooks), along with his trusty dog, Sounder, on a mission to find the prison camp that Nathan was sent to.

From first impressions, Sounder is slightly melodramatic. Many of the situations, even the ones that ought to be intensely dramatic, are executed in a somewhat superficial way. The dialogue is often cliched with the characters simply saying words at each other, avoiding any genuine connection. Their behaviour, too, seems oddly unmotivated. While some of the more important decisions may be justified, many of the smaller interactions between two characters seem unnatural and staged.

I'm also a little confused as to why the film is called Sounder. I mean, I get that the dog is named Sounder and maybe there's a metaphor about loyalty or something, but the dog is a very minor character, all things considered. He doesn't actively move the story forward in any meaningful way. In fact, he's barely important to the story at all. As it turns out, the book from which the film is adapted, focuses much more heavily on the dog, but since screenwriter Lonne Elder III clearly shifted the main focus to the family, you'd think a different title would have been in order.

Anyway, before you think I'm completely writing it off - and, remember, I did preface all this with "from first impressions" - the film certainly has its merits. The family themes are universal and despite a very, VERY slow-moving first half, the final act is indeed engaging with some genuinely touching moments.

The performances, however, are often as stiff as the dialogue, particularly all the children. Cicely Tyson and Paul Winfield are obviously accomplished actors, but even they struggle to rise above the stilted material. As mentioned, though, things pick up towards the end, and there are occasions when Tyson and Winfield truly show off their acting chops. Winfield's heated exchange with his son and the subsequent heartfelt monologue are particularly moving to watch. Kevin Hooks, now a prolific TV director, isn't great, but a darn sight better than the amateurish performances by the kids in his class. For me, though, the most watchable performance in the picture is the one given by Janet MacLachlan (pictured) as Camille, the schoolteacher, who takes David Lee under her wing, genuinely trying to connect with him.

The Academy obviously liked the lead actors since both Tyson and Winfield saw their performances nominated, making it the first time a film received Actor and Actress nods for its African-American leads. (The only other pair is Laurence Fishburne and Angela Bassett for What's Love Got To Do With It.) They also clearly disagreed with me about the script, because the film also picked up a nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay.

1972 - Deliverance

It seems my only motivation to work on this blog lately is when a Best Picture nominee is scheduled to play locally on the big screen. In a few days, one such screening is happening, so I'm attempting to cram in the last few 1972 nominees beforehand.

So let's rejoin the 1972 Best Picture race and have a look at...

Deliverance
Director:
John Boorman
Screenplay:
James Dickey
(based on his novel)
Starring:
Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds, Ned Beatty, Ronny Cox
Academy Awards:
3 nominations
0 wins

Four businessmen from Atlanta head north for a weekend of camping and canoeing. From the moment they set foot in the remote Georgia town, the locals give off an unfriendly and unhelpful vibe. That bad vibe turns into a nightmarish one as they not only deal with the violent river rapids but also with some violent locals. Getting back to civilisation with their dignity - and lives - intact becomes increasingly more difficult.

Deliverance is gripping from the first frame to the last, a genuinely edge-of-your-seat experience. As a film buff, particularly of 1970s cinema, I'm a little embarrassed to admit I hadn't actually seen this picture before, though I was, of course, fully aware of its two most famous scenes. The first, the duelling banjos - which is a bit of a misnomer since only one of the duelling instruments is a banjo - appears very early on, so knowing about this scene in advance was certainly no disadvantage. Once the two musicians get into full swing, it's incredibly toe-tapping and entertaining, sure to put a smile on your face.

The other famous scene, however, makes you feel the precise opposite and it's perhaps this scene that is more responsible for cementing the film's place in popular culture. Being familiar with it, I was concerned it would affect my experience of the story. Indeed, I was, in a way, just waiting for the canoe trip to go pear-shaped, but in the end, it's less than halfway through the film, so there's still plenty of nail-biting action that follows. And in any case, despite my awareness of its infamous reputation, the scene itself is some of the most intense few minutes of cinema I've ever seen. My eyes were glued to the screen. Powerful, powerful stuff.

Jon Voight (pictured) is, for me, the standout among the four main performers. His is a wonderfully subtle portrayal of a tortured man, far out of his depth, both literally and metaphorically. Ned Beatty is also great, though I was expecting his character to be more traumatised by his experience. By the end of the film, he seems almost to be able to shrug it off. Burt Reynolds is perhaps less realistic in his performance. His relatively unaffected response to the main event of the film seems somehow inappropriate and not particularly genuine. On the other end of the spectrum is Ronny Cox, who plays it all a bit too over the top. Despite the varied performances, they all get huge kudos for doing their own stunts. There's no mistaking that it's clearly the actors inside those canoes as they roll over the rapids. Voight also apparently scaled that cliff himself - a mighty impressive feat. Lastly, don't miss the source material's author, James Dickey, popping up as the Sheriff towards the end of the film.

As for Academy Awards, there were no acting nominations (though Voight was nominated for a Golden Globe), but the film picked up nods for Picture (obviously), John Boorman's impeccable direction and the meticulous editing by Tom Priestley.

1972 - Cabaret

Oscar season is not too far away now. Some might even say it's begun already. I've somehow managed to get to the movies a number of times recently, and while there have been some films I've really loved (Baby Driver, Brigsby Bear, Ingrid Goes West, The Big Sick), probably the only real Oscar contender among them is Dunkirk. If it can keep up the momentum, it seems like a good shot for a Best Picture nomination. And if it can convert that into a win, it would be the first 70mm film to do so since Patton in 1970.

But enough of the useless Oscars trivia. Next up, we take a look at another nominee from 1972's Best Picture contest...

Cabaret
Director:
Bob Fosse
Screenplay:
Jay Presson Allen
(based on the musical play by Joe Masteroff, also based on a play by John Van Druten, also based on stories by Christopher Isherwood)
Starring:
Liza Minnelli, Michael York, Helmut Griem, Joel Grey, Fritz Wepper, Marisa Berenson
Academy Awards:
10 nominations
8 wins, including Best Director, Best Actress (Minnelli) and Best Supporting Actor (Grey)

Berlin, 1931. American Sally Bowles (Minnelli) works as a cabaret singer at the bohemian Kit Kat Club. She befriends Englishman Brian Roberts (York), who teaches English to the locals while he works on his doctorate. The two flirt with romance before eventually taking the plunge, but when a charming baron (Grieme) enters their lives, a complicated threesome is born. All the while, the Nazi party becomes an increasingly violent presence in the city and in the club.

Like most musical films, a TV screen seems too confining for the theatrically extravagant numbers of Cabaret. It's certainly another movie I'd like to be able to catch on the big screen one day. In any case, no matter the size of the screen, all of the songs, right from the opening number, are passionate and emotive. Not to mention toe-tapping. Literally. My toe was involuntarily bouncing to the beat often. And Cabaret is not just a treat for your ears. Your eyes can also feast on the snazzy costumes, moody cinematography and snappy editing. Most of that visual and aural entertainment is limited to the musical numbers in the cabaret club, a setting which obviously allows for such flashiness. However, the narrative story is also very moving and emotional, exploring elements of the human condition in a way that isn't touched upon often, or at least wasn't in 1972.

As I often mention, stage productions that are brought to the screen often fail to appropriately adapt the material for film, but thankfully, that's not the case with Cabaret. While there are still a few lengthy scenes full of only dialogue, the musical scenes in particular make clever use of the medium. David Bretherton's editing deftly splices the cabaret performances together with snippets of germane events taking place outside the club. Bob Fosse also made the brilliant decision to remove all the songs from the stage version that didn't actually take place on the cabaret stage. The result is a musical that retains the sense of realism that is usually lost when characters unrealistically burst into song. Here, the singing only occurs as it would in real life: on a stage in front of an audience.

While the songs symbolically comment on the surrounding scenes, the only direct connection between the cabaret performances and the narrative story is Sally Bowles, and even then, we never actually see her interact offstage with any of the other cabaret performers (apart from a brief suggestive look from the Emcee). On the one hand, this creates a mildly disjointed feeling that we're watching two starkly separate movies. On the other hand, the two movies are cleverly related in that they explore the same themes using opposite techniques - one is a chronological narrative, the other is a series of bitingly satirical musical numbers.

After such engaging passion, the ending is perhaps a little unsatisfying. Not that I'm suggesting a happy ending would have been appropriate, but despite the fact that the mismatched lovers were inevitably not meant to be, the decline of their relationship seemed somewhat sudden. Plus, all the political tension that infuses the film never develops into anything more. I was half expecting the Nazis to storm the club and shut it down in a dramatic climax, but instead, the film ends with only a whimper. Then again, that may very well be the point of it all. The vibrant Berlin culture of the early 1930s never got a proper goodbye. It was gradually diminished as Hitler took over. Perhaps this is symbolised in the final moments of the film as the Emcee sings a suspended farewell that is missing its final musical phrase. He bows and briskly exits the stage as the camera pans to see the distorted reflections of several Nazis in uniform in the audience.

Liza Minnelli is naturally bubbly and energetic in perhaps her most memorable role, earning herself a Best Actress Oscar in the process. Also winning on Oscar night was Best Supporting Actor Joel Grey (pictured) as the Emcee. At first, Grey seems a little over the top, but once you accept that he's playing the part of a vaudevillian cabaret artist, it's actually perfect. I desperately wanted to see his character actually interact with someone off the stage, but nonetheless, he's delightfully naughty and suggestive, precise and detailed in every movement. That's probably in large part due to Fosse's intricate choreography, which is sublimely provocative on many levels. Some of the shapes he makes his dancers take are so unique that I often felt like I'd never seen a person make that move before. And his direction is nothing to be sneezed at either. He won the Best Director Oscar for it, after all. A notable and fascinating feature of his style in this film is his penchant for allowing his characters to communicate without saying anything. It's clear he wasn't afraid to have his actors stare at each other silently for long periods of time. To paraphrase a well-known proverb, a face is worth a thousand words.

Then, of course, there's the music and lyrics. Kander and Ebb are simply masters of the form, both individually and together. The toe-tapping, emotive music combined with witty and moving lyrics is the perfect pairing. They wrote three songs specifically for the movie, but the one that seemed like it would be the most likely to be nominated for an Oscar, "Maybe This Time", was actually adapted from a song they'd written previously, making it ineligible. So in the end, Cabaret didn't receive a Best Original Song nod, but it did find itself nominated in 10 other categories, winning a total of 8 Oscars, the most for any film that didn't also win Best Picture.

1972 - The Godfather

You may remember several weeks ago, when I returned to this blog after such a lengthy break, that I mentioned having watched four movies within the space of as many days. The driving force behind that feat was a screening by Fathom Events, in collaboration with TCM. The film in question was a Best Picture winner that I'd always wanted to see on the big screen, so it was tough to pass up the opportunity. But of course, in order to appease my own sense of order, I felt the obsessive need to finish the previous year of review before starting a new one. Hence, I crammed in the remaining three 1943 Best Picture nominees just in time to treat myself to 1972's winner. And with this review, I'm finally caught up.

So, our first nominee from the 1972 Best Picture race is...

The Godfather
Director:
Francis Ford Coppola
Screenplay:
Mario Puzo, Francis Ford Coppola
(based on the novel by Mario Puzo)
Starring:
Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, James Caan, Richard Castellano, Robert Duvall, Sterling Hayden, John Marley, Richard Conte, Diane Keaton
Academy Awards:
10 nominations
3 wins, including Best Picture and Best Actor (Brando)

Don Vito Corleone (Brando), known as the Godfather, is the head of one of New York's most notorious crime families. While the other male members of the clan are all involved in the family business, Vito's son, Michael (Pacino), keeps himself at a distance. But when the Godfather refuses to make a deal with a rival crime family, a mob war breaks out. In what begins as an attempt to protect his own father, Michael soon finds himself drawn in to the family business, after all.

Both the AFI and IMDb users list The Godfather in the number two spot of their top films of all time, and it's not difficult to understand why. It's a positively captivating film from start to finish, fittingly earning a revered place in cinematic history. From the exquisite cinematography to the powerful performances, there is drama and suspense infused into every frame. Ultimately, though, the story is essentially a heartbreaking character study of a man whose moral compass collapses under the weight of his family loyalty. When we first meet Michael Corleone, he's relaxed and open, making it clear to Kay that he has nothing to do with his father's business. But as he slowly gets pulled in to the family's shady dealings, he becomes more and more humorless and unlikable. Finally, he takes over from his father and Kay is shut out (both literally and metaphorically) in one of the most chilling final shots ever to be filmed (pictured).

A big part of any film becoming such a pop culture phenomenon is its memorable music and quotable quotes, and The Godfather is certainly no exception. While Italian composer Nino Rota's intensely evocative score was initially announced as a nominee for the Best Original Score Oscar, it was later withdrawn due to the discovery that Rota had adapted an earlier score for the film's main theme. Regardless of its origins, the theme has clearly become so closely associated with The Godfather that it scarcely matters what it was first used for. The memorable quotes, on the other hand, weren't heard anywhere before, though they've been mimicked ad nauseam ever since, a clear testament to their emotional resonance. In the screening that I attended, there was audible tittering when Brando uttered the classic, "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse," and some louder chuckles at the oft-parodied, "Leave the gun, take the cannoli." Even more evidence I was watching with fellow fans was the scene in which Woltz first proudly shows off his racehorse. The audience knowingly snickered with delight at what we all knew was coming.

The performances are fantastic all around. From the comic relief of Lenny Montana's Luca Brasi to the impassioned energy of Talia Shire's Connie. In total, there were four acting nominations. Brando deservedly won Best Actor (though famously refused the award) for an exceptional portrayal of the Corleone patriarch. Powerful, yet understated, but jeez, those cotton balls in his mouth sure are weird. Al Pacino, Robert Duvall and James Caan all competed against each other in the Supporting Actor category, but perhaps they split the vote because none of them took home the prize. It would have made for an interesting evening if Pacino had won, though, because he, too, was a no-show at the ceremony, allegedly objecting to his performance being cited as a supporting role. To be fair, he had a point. His performance represented a far greater amount of screen time than Brando's. Certainly not the first or last time that sort of thing has happened, but clearly one of the most egregious cases.

Best Picture of 1943

Well, this verdict is over two years in the making. Since it's been so long, it was somewhat difficult to recall the first few viewings, so I've had to rely on my original thoughts as written down in the blog itself. Not that it really matters, to be honest, since this one was pretty much a foregone conclusion from the beginning.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1943 are:

• Casablanca
• For Whom the Bell Tolls
• Heaven Can Wait
• The Human Comedy
• In Which We Serve
• Madame Curie
• The More the Merrier
• The Ox-Bow Incident
• The Song of Bernadette
• Watch on the Rhine

Of the ten nominated films, exactly half of them are contemporary pieces exploring some aspect of the war with varying degrees of patriotism and propaganda. Together with the other half, though, it's quite a diverse group with several genres being represented. All in all, they don't constitute an outstanding collection of cinema, though many of them are captivating. I found particular enjoyment in The Ox-Bow Incident and For Whom the Bell Tolls.

But why waste time. There was very little chance anything would topple Casablanca in my esteem. It's a masterpiece of early filmmaking - great performances, great script, great images - that towers over its competitors and has deservedly earned its iconic status in cinematic culture. And so, to make it official, Casablanca is, without question, my favourite Best Picture nominee from 1943.

Best Picture of 1943
Academy's choice: Casablanca	Matt's choice: Casablanca

Your choice:

Let me know what your favourite of this year was by voting in the poll above. We move to the 1970s now for a selection of heavy dramas (and one musical drama).

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1972 are:

• Cabaret
• Deliverance
• The Emigrants
• The Godfather
• Sounder

You might have deduced from my post a few weeks ago that I've already watched the first movie of this year of review, so I'll be able to opine on that shortly and finally explain why I went on a four-movie binge in the first place. Stay tuned...

1943 - The Human Comedy

Finally, after over two years, we reach the end of the current year of review. I sincerely hope I'm able to avoid that sort of lengthy timeframe in the future. Life as a parent may put up a fight, though.

The final entry in 1943's competition for the Best Picture is...

The Human Comedy
Director:
Clarence Brown
Screenplay:
Howard Estabrook
(from a story by William Saroyan)
Starring:
Mickey Rooney, Frank Morgan, James Craig, Marsha Hunt, Fay Bainter, Ray Collins, Van Johnson, Donna Reed, Jackie Jenkins
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
1 win, for Best Original Story

The effects of the distant war are felt in small-town California as teenager Homer (Rooney) takes on the role of provider for his family due to the recent death of his father (Collins) and the deployment of his older brother (Johnson). Homer begins working for the local telegraph office, alongside senior telegrapher Willie (Morgan). Meanwhile, the office manager (Craig) frets over the impending introduction to his future in-laws, Homer's sister (Reed) and a friend enjoy a night out with soldiers on leave, and Homer's brother faces Army training.

The Human Comedy wears its heart well and truly on its sleeve. It's overly sincere and plenty preachy with scene after scene of characters waxing philosophical about life, love and, most of all, war. A product of its era, I guess.

That said, the picture's multiple storylines each capture the attention of its audience. We end up caring for all the characters in this town, which is attributable to the ensemble cast. However, it's Mickey Rooney (pictured, with Frank Morgan) that is the standout, proving he wasn't a box office draw for nothing. He displays an affable boyish exuberance, paving the way for the Michael J. Foxes of the world.

Relevant to this blog, it's always fun to come across a Best Picture nominee that makes reference to an earlier Best Picture nominee. In The Human Comedy, one scene sees several characters exit a cinema after having seen the previous year's Best Picture winner, Mrs. Miniver.

1943 - The Song of Bernadette

Well, despite having three more viewings in the can, I'm apparently still taking my time to blog about them. So let's get straight to it.

Here are my thoughts on another 1943 Best Picture nominee...

The Song of Bernadette
Director:
Henry King
Screenplay:
George Seaton
(based on the novel by Franz Werfel)
Starring:
Jennifer Jones, William Eythe, Charles Bickford, Vincent Price, Lee J. Cobb, Gladys Cooper, Anne Revere, Roman Bohnen
Academy Awards:
12 nominations
4 wins, including Best Actress (Jones)

In a rural French village in the mid-19th century, a timid teenager named Bernadette (Jones) tags along with her sister and a friend to collect firewood for their families. When Bernadette is separated from the other two, she waits at a cave where she sees a clear vision of a saintly woman. The apparition asks Bernadette to return to the same spot every day for the next couple of weeks, and as Bernadette complies, she attracts the attention of the nation. Despite not being visible to anyone else, many believe Bernadette is communicating with the Virgin Mary and flock to the site in hopes of being healed by the miraculous spring water now flowing from the ground. Many others, including her own parents (Bohnen and Revere) doubt her story. Even the Catholic Church takes their time to come around, subjecting Bernadette to many years of investigation before proclaiming the visions as an official miracle.

The Song of Bernadette initially unravels a lot like a mystery. Did Bernadette really see the Virgin Mary? Or is it a hoax? Or is she just delusional? The well-structured script creates some tight conflict around this mystery with barely anyone believing her at first. Slowly, though, more and more people become believers and her detractors are portrayed in such a way that they are clearly the antagonists. And since the film's verisimilitude makes plenty of room for the miraculous, it's fairly obvious which conclusion the audience is supposed to reach: yes, the visions are real. In fact, anyone with a modicum of familiarity with religious-themed films, especially of the classic era, could probably have guessed that from the outset.

The anti-intellectual trope is a common cinematic theme that has always rubbed me the wrong way. Scientists are often painted as stubborn and closed-minded. Which is ironic, really. In reality, science is self-correcting, always incorporating new evidence as it comes to light, whereas religion is rigid and inflexible. I suppose, though, that Hollywood is only reflecting the culture. I guess I just don't quite understand how society decided that simply believing should be considered a virtue, but thinking critically about extraordinary claims is arrogant and dismissive? Surely, dispassionately weighing all the evidence before jumping to conclusions will produce more reasonable outcomes than blind acceptance of dogma. Okay, this is getting way too philosophical. Back to the movie...

Since the characters are essentially divided between believers and doubters, the cast often slips into heavy caricatures, either the kind-hearted supporter or the obstinate foe. Nonetheless, the film garnered four acting nominations, but only Jennifer Jones took home an Oscar for what amounts to a relatively simple portrayal of a softly-spoken and innocent girl. To my mind, though, Vincent Price (pictured) as the Imperial Prosecutor and Lee J. Cobb as the local doctor gave the most captivating and natural performances despite the lack of recognition from the Academy.

1943 - The More the Merrier

Whew, it has been a year and a half since my last review, which was just after my daughter was born. Emily is now 19 months old and Charlie is almost 3½. I can't really explain how I found the time to come back to this blog, but let's just ride the wave, shall we? And I'm back with a bang, too. I've watched four movies in the last three days. Yep, you read that right. Four movies in three days. (I'll explain why when I get to the fourth one.) Of course, now I have to write about them, so the delays may still continue, but one step at a time.

So, after a loooong hiatus, we now continue our review of the 1943 Best Picture nominees by taking a look at...

The More the Merrier
Director:
George Stevens
Screenplay:
Robert Russell, Frank Ross, Richard Flournoy, Lewis R. Foster
Starring:
Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Richard Gaines, Stanley Clements
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
1 win, for Best Supporting Actor (Coburn)

Thanks to the war, Washington, D.C. is experiencing a housing shortage so Connie (Arthur) decides to do the patriotic thing and offer half her apartment for rent. Benjamin Dingle (Coburn) weasels his way into the lease, despite Connie not being too keen on having a male roommate. The next day, without Connie's knowledge or permission, Dingle rents half of his half of the apartment to Joe Carter (McCrea), a young soldier preparing to be shipped overseas next week. In record time, Connie and Joe fall in love, but Connie's long-term engagement to the boring but stable Charles Pendergast (Gaines) prevents anything but fleeting romantic moments between Connie and Joe ... at least for a while.

It's somehow fitting that one of the themes in The More the Merrier is one's patriotic duty to help the war effort in any small way one can. After directing the film, George Stevens did just that by joining the US Army Signal Corps as a documentarian, gathering harrowing footage from the D-Day landings and Dachau concentration camp, among other things. The experience clearly shifted his outlook because The More the Merrier was the last of the mostly light-hearted films he was known for during the 30s and early 40s. The second half of his career is filled with much more dramatic fare.

And perhaps that was for the best. Stevens certainly is more deft at drama than comedy. Not that The More the Merrier is unfunny. On the contrary, the witty dialogue and slapstick pratfalls definitely put a smile on your face, but there are certain moments in which the director's comic timing leaves a bit to be desired. Maybe it's just a result of the time period and we're now just too used to cutting away from a punchline immediately, but Stevens holds way, way too long on Coburn when he can't find his pants. Both times. Watch the movie and you'll know what I mean.

There are definitely some contrived moments and characters behaving in somehow unmotivated ways, but all in all, it's a nice bit of fluff. They certainly don't nominate these kinds of romantic comedies very often anymore.

Charles Coburn (pictured, looking for his pants) won the film's only Oscar for Best Supporting Actor and it's not entirely undeserved. He is indeed very entertaining in this role. But while I'm now at peace with Bogart and Bergman not receiving Oscars for Casablanca, I can't say the same for Claude Rains' loss. As entertaining as Coburn is, Rains would have been my pick. Leading couple Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea also deliver amiable performances - she was nominated, he wasn't - though like the film itself, they're not amazingly memorable but enjoyable nonetheless.

Oscar Winner Predictions 2016

Well, after one of my best years ever for predicting the nominations, I'm less confident about my predictions for the winners. It seems there a few more close races than usual, and even the categories that seem like locks are not as tightly locked as you would expect. So the possibility for upsets is great this year, I think. That said, I've pretty much gone with the favourites in each category, even if they're not the favourite by much.

So, here are my predictions on who will take home each award. We'll know soon enough if I've played it too safe.

Oscar Nomination Predictions 2016

Ugh! An entire year without a post. Well, the less said about that, the better. I'm back (briefly) to release my predictions for the Oscar nominations which will be announced in just a few hours. I realise it doesn't really leave any time for discussion. Indeed, I doubt anyone will actually read this before the nominations are announced, so I suppose this is just for posterity. Without further ado, here are my nomination predictions for the 2016 Oscars. Enjoy!

EDIT: Oops. I guess I misread the calendar. Today (Friday) is when the nomination voting closes, not actually when the announcement is made. So I guess there is indeed time to absorb my predictions. Though, I reserve the right to change them before Tuesday morning when the actual nominations will be announced.

2nd EDIT: Well, after seeing a few more contenders, I have indeed made some changes ahead of tomorrow morning's announcement, but only in the Best Picture category. Let's see how I do...

Oscar Winner Predictions 2015

Well, I did pretty well with my nomination predictions. Let's see if that translates into the winners. Each year, there seems to be more and more clear frontrunners with fewer and fewer upsets, so there's not as many wild guesses as there used to be. Still, there are a handful of categories this year which could go several different ways, so I won't get too cocky just yet. Without further ado, here are my predictions for who will win the golden statues tonight.

Oscar Nomination Predictions 2015

It's that time of year again. The Academy Award nominations will be announced bright and early tomorrow morning, so just for fun, here are my predictions for who will see their names listed. I'm quietly confident about most of my picks - most categories have only one or two alternates that could sneak in. But boy oh boy, Best Supporting Actor is a doozy. There are just so many potential variations of the final nominees that I had trouble settling on five. Similar story with Best Documentary (are there enough Scientologists to quash Going Clear's chance of a nom?) and Best Adapted Screenplay (is it ever a good idea to leave out Charlie Kaufman?), so we'll see how everything pans out.

1943 - Casablanca

Since my last post, Kat and I have a new addition to our family. Emily was born in early November and is already melting hearts everywhere. With two little ones in the house now, finding time for this blog may be even more difficult than it has been (and it was already difficult). Indeed, I watched the movie below well over a month ago and am only now getting around to blogging about it. I have to admit, though, that the transition from one to two babies has not felt as life-altering as becoming parents for the first time. Most likely, that's simply due to the fact that we're already used to the sleep deprivation and constant cleanup of infant waste. And if having a second offspring weren't enough, we also just moved house and are dealing with all that that entails, so ... you know ... you may not hear from me again for a while...

Now, you may remember way back when I began this year of review many, many months ago that I mentioned taking the Warner Bros. VIP Studio Tour and happening upon an exhibit of their past Best Picture winners. One of those winners is indeed the victor of this current year of discussion and now that I'm ready to review that film, it's time to share the photos I took of that exhibit - one of the sheet music for As Time Goes By accompanied by composer Max Steiner's baton, and the other of a costume worn by Conrad Veidt in the film. Granted, it's probably not so thrilling just looking at the photos, so instead consider these photos as mementos of the brief moment of excitement that I experienced when I saw these items in person ... which I realise is probably even less thrilling for you...

Anyway, as I'm sure you've now inferred, our next Best Picture nominee from 1943 is the classic of classics...

Casablanca
Director:
Michael Curtiz
Screenplay:
Julius J. Epstein, Philip G. Epstein, Howard Koch
(based on the play "Everybody Comes to Rick's" by Murray Burnett and Joan Alison)
Starring:
Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
3 wins (including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Screenplay)

When I'm asked to name my favourite movie of all time, I always have trouble narrowing it down to just one, but I do have a few standard responses for when I'm asked for my favourite movie of a particular genre. And Casablanca is, without question, my go-to pick for favourite classic film. (Yes, I know "classic" isn't technically a singular genre, but it was a section in most video stores - and probably on most streaming sites nowadays - and it's a word with a not entirely meaningless definition that a lot of people use to categorise a subsection - or perhaps, more accurately, an era - of cinema, so stop your pedantry.)

For those living under a rock, Casablanca centres on Rick Blaine (Bogart), the owner of a cafe/club in the Moroccan city of Casablanca during World War II. He inadvertently becomes the recipient of two letters of transit, important documents for any European refugee attempting to reach the United States. This makes him a concern to the corrupt but friendly French police captain Louis Renault (Rains) and the less-than-friendly German Major Strasser (Veidt) who want to make sure a resistance fighter named Victor Laszlo (Henreid) doesn't get the chance to leave the city. To complicate matters, Rick's old flame, Ilsa Lund (Bergman), happens to be Laszlo's wife. When Victor and Ilsa show up in Rick's establishment (the first time Rick has seen Ilsa since she abruptly abandoned him in Paris many years ago), Rick finds himself torn between helping the cause and dealing with his unresolved feelings for Ilsa.

Clearly, one of the reasons Casablanca has stood the test of time is its clear and captivating story. The plot is easy to follow yet subtle enough to allow the audience to figure some things out on their own, yet another consequence of the Hays Code, no doubt. For instance, when Louis is toying with the wife of a man who needs an exit visa, the insinuations run rampant, but nobody explicitly mentions that it's all about sex.

There are undoubtedly some very serious themes - which is almost mandatory in any story that involves war and Nazis - not to mention the sincere and heartbreaking romance aspect of the story, yet there is an abundance of comic relief, all appropriate and never undercutting the film's gravity. You might even call the film a dramedy, even if that term didn't exist in 1943. During some of the most poignant moments, the film is not afraid to cut the tension with a well-timed giggle. Perhaps my favourite of these is when Strasser orders Louis to find a reason to shut down the cafe. Louis immediately demands everyone leave, exclaiming that he is shocked to hear that there is gambling taking place in the back room. At that very moment, a cashier approaches Louis and very audibly says, "Your winnings, sir," while handing him a wad of cash. Without skipping a beat, Louis thanks the man and continues carrying out his orders.

This comedy-drama quality is enhanced - or maybe even created - by the wonderful dialogue, poetic and stirring at times, and witty and amusing at others. The brilliance of these words - or at least their popularity - is confirmed by the number of memorable quotes that have entered the cultural landscape. The AFI voted six of them into their list of the 100 Greatest Movie Quotes of All Time, twice as many as any other movie. Not included in that list is the lesser-known but hilarious exchange of dialogue - and possibly my favourite such exchange in the entire history of cinema - between Carl and a German couple practicing their English. Rather than describe it here, it's probably better to just direct you to the clip.

The cast is uniformly wonderful, each one solid in their respective roles. As I mentioned in the posts on Watch on the Rhine and For Whom the Bell Tolls, I used to be flabbergasted as to how Bogart and Bergman (pictured) didn't win Best Actor and Best Actress for Casablanca. After seeing those two other films, though, I now understand why, even though I might still disagree. Both their performances here are sublime. Bogart was nominated for his. Bergman wasn't (because she was nommed for Tolls instead). Claude Rains was the other acting nominee, delivering a polished portrayal as the likable, albeit occasionally sleazy, Louis. And for my money, Peter Lorre's is the most delicious performance in the film, playing the pitiful weasel. It's short on screen time but big on character.

1943 - For Whom the Bell Tolls

It's been over six years now since I began this insane project that I initially thought would last about a year and a half. I suppose, though, if I drag this out long enough, there's at least a tiny chance that I'll make it into the cast of a future Best Picture nominee which, aside from the cool meta nature of having to review a film I'm in, would just be all kinds of awesome.

And in fact, one such opportunity may have already presented itself. Last week, I spent a morning shooting a scene opposite Annette Bening (who was absolutely lovely, I might add) for 20th Century Women, a film directed by Mike Mills. While none of his films have been nominated for the big prize just yet, you may remember that it was his Beginners for which Christopher Plummer won a well-deserved and long-awaited Oscar a few years ago. And Annette Bening is certainly Oscar bait, so it's certainly within the realms of possibility that Mills' latest film could find itself on the Best Picture shortlist. At the very least, Bening herself may be in contention for an award. Of course, judging her performance is difficult since I only have one scene to go on, and it's obviously way too early to speculate - in fact, this film may not be released until next year, making it eligible for the awards season after next, which would mean it's way, way too early to speculate - but this is Annette Bening we're talking about so you can never rule her out.

Anyway, here are my thoughts on 1943's next Best Picture contender...


For Whom the Bell Tolls
Director:
Sam Wood
Screenplay:
Dudley Nichols
(based on the novel by Ernest Hemingway)
Starring:
Gary Cooper, Ingrid Bergman, Akim Tamiroff, Arturo de Cordova, Vladimir Sokoloff, Mikhail Rasumny, Fortunio Bonanova, Eric Feldary, Victor Varconi, Katina Paxinou, Joseph Calleia

Academy Awards:
9 nominations
1 win, for Best Supporting Actress (Paxinou)

Based on the celebrated novel by Ernest Hemingway (as all the promotional material points out), For Whom the Bell Tolls tells the story of Robert Jordan (Cooper), an American soldier fighting with the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War. He is tasked with assisting a strategic assault against the Nationalists by blowing up a bridge at the precise moment of a planned air raid, and he is given three days to prepare. His local guide is Anselmo (Sokoloff) who introduces Robert to a gang of freedom fighters and Gypsies hiding out in a mountain cave. Robert enlists the help of the disparate gang, including its leader, Pablo (Tamiroff), an unpredictable drunk, and Pablo's wife, Pilar (Paxinou), a strong woman who is essentially in charge due to her husband's weakness. Robert also finds friendship and, later, romance with Maria (Bergman), a young Gypsy refugee with a horrifically sad story.

As has been discussed numerous times on this blog, films adapted from novels often suffer from a rushed feeling that is almost inherent when cramming a full-length book into two hours of screen time. Not so, however, in the case of For Whom the Bell Tolls, likely due to the source material being clear and straightforward in its own right (although, full disclosure, I've never actually read it). The tension in this story is in fact heightened by the fact that it takes its time. There is a single clear mission for the protagonist and, even if some of the details are a little murky, nothing ever feels hurried. Well, nothing except perhaps the speed with which Robert and Maria fall in love. But whirlwind romances and loves-at-first-sight are pretty much the norm for this age of Hollywood, so that hardly counts.

None of that is to say that the film lacks complexity. On the contrary. There is still plenty of nuance in For Whom the Bell Tolls, most of it found in the compelling characters. It's not always clear cut which of these people are the heroes. For instance, El Sordo clearly sides with the protagonists but the perverse pleasure he takes in his enemy's demise, laughing sadistically at their violent deaths, makes it difficult to get behind him as a hero. Conversely, Pablo commits some atrociously dickish acts, displaying a complete lack of consideration for others, yet he later experiences several crises of conscience, which elicits from us at least a tiny amount of sympathy.

As for the cast, it's a surprising display of diversity. Despite the fact that most of the characters are Spanish, the actors hail from Sweden, Greece, Hungary, Malta, Mexico and several from Russia. The only actual Spaniard is Fortunio Bonanova. Regardless of nationality, there are some truly powerful performances. Akim Tamiroff (pictured) is nothing short of superb as the emotionally erratic and conflicted Pablo. Playing his wife, Katina Paxinou also shines. Both were nominated in the supporting categories, but only Paxinou won. Then there's Ingrid Bergman, who is simply wonderful and often heartbreaking as the sweet Maria, earning herself a Best Actress nomination. In my previous post, while discussing Watch on the Rhine, I pointed out how I could never understand why Bogart didn't win Best Actor for Casablanca this year ... until I actually saw Paul Lukas' performance. In similar fashion, I always had trouble figuring out why Bergman wasn't even nominated for Casablanca. But now I understand. While her Ilsa Lund is still one of my favourite portrayals (and we'll get to that film shortly), her performance here in For Whom the Bell Tolls is genuinely captivating, so I can finally accept the omission. Of course, if the Academy just allowed a single actor to be nominated twice in the same category, then there probably wouldn't have been an issue in the first place, but rules are rules, I guess.

1943 - Watch on the Rhine

With baby number two due in about a month and a half, I'm trying to cram in as many movies as I can before spare time becomes even more scarce. So let's get straight to it.

Here's a look at another 1943 film shortlisted for Best Picture...

Watch on the Rhine
Director:
Herman Shumlin
Screenplay:
Dashiell Hammett
(based on the play by Lillian Hellman)
Starring:
Bette Davis, Paul Lukas, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Lucile Watson, Beulah Bondi, George Coulouris, Donald Woods
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
1 win, for Best Actor (Lukas)

It seems somehow appropriate to follow up The Ox-Bow Incident with this picture. Both are confronting tales that deal with serious moral issues, albeit Watch on the Rhine leans more towards the political. Anti-Fascist activist Kurt Muller (Lukas) and his American wife Sara (Davis), arrive in Washington, D.C. with their three children after leaving a devolving Europe behind. They stay in Sara's wealthy family home with her mother (Watson) and brother (Woods), who Sara hasn't seen since she left America 17 years ago. Their arrival is complicated, however, by another house guest, Teck de Brancovis (Coulouris), a slimy Nazi sympathiser who threatens to expose Kurt to his German Embassy friends.

Watch on the Rhine is another in a long list of stage play adaptations that inherently suffers from its source material's wordiness. It's slow-moving, particularly at the beginning as the plentiful characters are introduced (many of whom turn out not to be all that important to the story, anyway). And with very little action, most of the major plot points are revealed merely through shocking announcements. In spite of all that, the picture remains intensely captivating, no doubt due to its grave central issue. Consequently, in what might seem contradictory to the film's slow pace, I hardly noticed its two hours go by.

This happens to be the first time I've seen this film and it had been on my watch list for a very long time, mostly because I've always wanted to see the performance of the guy who stole Bogart's Oscar. Starting with that bias, it's easy to write off Paul Lukas (pictured) as merely adequate. After all, his character is relatively calm and not overly emotional, requiring little nuance from the actor. Ironically, however, this composure only serves to accentuate the powerful intensity that Lukas reveals in the last few scenes of the film. Consider me a convert. I'll always love Bogie's Rick, but I'm humbled to admit that Lukas' performance is also award-worthy.

As the wonderfully pompous woman of means, Lucile Watson received the film's other acting nomination, and deservedly so. She delivers her catty lines effortlessly, but later is afforded the opportunity to show a soft interior, providing a well-rounded characterisation that is a pure joy to watch. Bette Davis, too, turns in a terrific performance in what is essentially an underwritten supportive wife role (despite her top billing). I guess her peers agreed since her performance also went unrecognised by the Academy.