1984 - Amadeus

I know I'm a week late to be discussing baseball, but has it not occurred to anyone in upper management at the MLB that it's possibly a bit of a misnomer to be calling the league's final battle the World Series. With only one team in the league that hails from outside the United States (and they're in nearby Toronto), it seems somewhat farcical to acclaim the winning team as the world champions. I guess when the MLB began, no other country was playing baseball, but even so, a bit of humility wouldn't go astray. World Series. I mean, really.

Right, now that I've insulted America's pastime, which, incidentally, I enjoy watching in lieu of my beloved cricket, let's move on now to the latest Best Picture nominee from 1984 to be viewed, which was...

Amadeus

Director:

Milos Forman

Screenplay:

Peter Shaffer

(based on his play)

Starring:

F. Murray Abraham, Tom Hulce, Elizabeth Berridge, Roy Dotrice, Simon Callow, Christine Ebersole, Jeffrey Jones

Academy Awards:

11 nominations

8 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor

One of the greatest essays on jealousy ever written, Amadeus is the tale of 18th century Austrian Court Composer Antonio Salieri and his bitterness at being outshone by a younger composer with the manners and graces of a nine-year-old. The younger composer is, of course, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and as soon as he enters Salieri's world, Salieri is consumed with jealousy of his musical genius. However, Salieri has a more pressing rivalry - that with God. Convinced that God is mocking him through Mozart, Salieri vows to destroy the famed composer in a treacherous attempt to show the Almighty who's boss.

Amadeus falls into that genre of film in which the protagonist essentially doubles as the antagonist. Salieri is the audience's main point of contact and, indeed, the story is told in flashback by Salieri himself. Just as he is conflicted by his genuine awe of Mozart's innate talent and his utter disgust at Mozart's buffoonery, we, too, are conflicted in our perception of Salieri. On the one hand, he elicits great sympathy by his desperate and unfulfilled longing to create memorable compositions. However, his diabolical plot to bring down Mozart at every turn tests the limits of our empathy. The result is an absolutely delicious portrayal of jealousy at its most primal, an emotion to which I'm sure we all can relate, no matter how much we are disinclined to admit it.

Most of this captivating deliciousness occurs in the first half of the film with jealous discovery after jealous discovery yanking our emotional strings. There is an unfortunate lull during the latter half of the film, but, in spite of that, all the other elements of this fine picture guarantee its entertainment value. For instance, the extravagant design is exactly as spectacular as you would expect from a period piece of this calibre. And then there's the music. Granted, you can hardly go wrong using Mozart's emotive compositions, but to make each selection perfectly appropriate for the images it is supporting, as is the case here, is a fine skill indeed.

F. Murray Abraham claimed the Best Actor Oscar for his sublime portrayal of Salieri, perfecting the many subtle crestfallen expressions of insecurity required of him. His co-star Tom Hulce received a nomination, too, supplying Mozart with a combination of irreverence and passion. Although etched in my mind as Ferris Bueller's principal, Jeffrey Jones is utterly delightful as the Austrian Emperor. Keep an eye out for Sex and the City's Cynthia Nixon as the Mozarts' maid. And keep the other eye out for the man inside R2D2, Kenny Baker, appearing in an operatic parody.

1984 - A Passage to India

After a frustrating experience with the frustrating New York City transport system which left me waiting, frustrated, on a platform for thirty frustrating minutes before being told the train would never arrive, I was forced to call my director to explain why I was absent from today's rehearsal. Frustrating. The subway system here is usually more than satisfactory, especially in comparison to Sydney's equivalent, but then something frustrating like this happens and I lose all faith in it. Anyway, the frustration was alleviated when Kat and I walked to the nearby Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden for a bite to eat. Too cold for the impressive outdoor beer garden, we dined inside on the scrumptious Czech and Slovak food. As a schnitzel aficionado, I simply couldn't go past the Bohemian Schnitzel, a breast of breaded chicken stuffed with ham, cheese, egg and garlic. Simply heaven. Although, my arteries may have something to say about that.

After a quick stroll through Astoria park, we arrived back home to watch another 1984 Best Picture nominee...

A Passage to India

Director:

David Lean

Screenplay:

David Lean

(based on the novel by E.M. Forster and the play by Santha Rama Rau)

Starring:

Judy Davis, Victor Banerjee, Peggy Ashcroft, James Fox, Alec Guinness, Nigel Havers

Academy Awards:

11 nominations

2 wins, for Best Supporting Actress and Best Original Score

A Passage to India is one of those films that I've always been meaning to see because of its pedigree, but never quite got around to because ... well, honestly, it just seemed like it would be boring. The subject matter simply didn't appeal to me. Then again, I really didn't know much about its content, so I'm not sure why I came to that conclusion. The lesson? Don't judge a book by its cover ... or a film by its poster, as the case may be.

Miss Quested and Mrs. Moore head to British colonial India in the 1920s to visit city magistrate Mr. Heaslop, both Miss Quested's fiancé and Mrs. Moore's son. Dismayed by the local Britons' lack of interest in Indian culture and their disrespect of Indian people, the two women accept an invitation by Dr. Aziz to take a somewhat gruelling journey to some legendary caves. The elderly Mrs. Moore soon becomes exhausted and decides to remain with the main group while Miss Quested and Dr. Aziz continue with a local guide. After a short time, however, Miss Quested scampers away from the caves in clear distress. Once back in town, Dr. Aziz is charged with attempted rape, resulting in a controversial trial that incites hostility between the Indians and the British.

With David Lean as the director, you know to expect some beautiful sweeping landscapes and this film does not disappoint in that regard. There are some truly majestic scenes to which a humble TV screen hardly does justice. The first half of the story unfolds in a relatively leisurely pace but there is gratification in meeting the vivid characters, especially the excitable Aziz, who delivers some of the film's most amusing lines. For instance, upon describing his late wife, he proclaims, "She was not a highly educated woman ... or even beautiful."

At approximately the halfway point, things become much more engaging. The events in the caves are deftly treated with plenty of mystery and the trial is just as engrossing. The characters become a tad black and white, though, as it is painfully clear as to which side of the proceedings each person is leaning. There is simply no middle ground.

Despite the occasional melodramatic moments in performance, the cast are all superb. Aussie Judy Davis delivers a captivating portrayal as Miss Quested, and Alec Guinness is almost unrecognisable as an Indian religious scholar. All in all, a very pleasant film.

1984 - Places in the Heart

Celebrity sighting #34: Whilst performing my ushering duties, Isabella Rossellini entered the theatre to be seated in the second row, which unfortunately meant I could only see the back of her fairly distant head owing to the fact that I was positioned in the back row. My colleagues assured me over the walkie that it was indeed the daughter of Ingrid Bergman, so I took their word for it.

(For the record, the number 34 is entirely fabricated. I am not, in fact, keeping a tally of my star-struckedness.)

Moving on...

The epic movie marathon that was the 1956 Best Picture race is now over and I must admit that, when I sat down to watch the next film for Matt vs. the Academy, it was nice to know that I wouldn't be spending over three hours in front of the television screen. The first of 1984's nominees was...

Places in the Heart

Director:

Robert Benton

Screenplay:

Robert Benton

Starring:

Sally Field, Lindsay Crouse, Ed Harris, Amy Madigan, John Malkovich, Danny Glover

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

2 wins, for Best Actress and Best Original Screenplay

In Waxahachie, Texas, during the Great Depression, Edna Spalding is attempting to recover from the devastating loss of her husband. In order to keep her two children housed and fed, she desperately needs to earn some cash. Since she is unable to afford the mortgage repayments, the bank manager urges her to sell the house. But Edna has a better idea. On the advice of a friendly unemployed black man named Moses, she plants cotton on her farm. The bank manager is unconvinced of this solution, so he persuades her to take on his blind brother-in-law as a tenant to help with the repayments. Battling a tornado, a slump in the cotton market and all sorts of prejudices - racism, sexism and blindism - this unlikely group must work together to bring in the crop.

Places in the Heart begins with a very slow pace. It's the deep South. It's the Depression. Understandably, things are slow. Even the accidental death of Edna's husband only heightens the film's energy briefly. However, the characters are so intriguing that it's enjoyable to spend time with this unlikely collection of acquaintances. I was definitely hooked by the story's powerful intensity. The tornado sequence, in particular, was genuinely heart-stopping, as was the tension created when Mr. Will, the blind man, attempts to rescue Moses from a Ku Klux Klan gang.

Speaking of the blind man, perhaps I've been spoiled by Al Pacino, but John Malkovich's eyes were not quite convincingly sightless. Maybe that's being picky, though. Sally Field (pictured) is affecting in the role that won her a second Oscar, prompting her famous acceptance speech, "You like me!" Also noteworthy is Danny Glover as Moses. Plus, for Lost fans, Terry O'Quinn, a.k.a. John Locke, appears in a supporting role.

As if the themes of death, the Depression and racism were not serious enough, writer-director Robert Benton also includes a major subplot involving the infidelity of Edna's brother-in-law. Heavy. It all works perfectly, though, without slipping into melodrama. One of the most moving scenes in the entire film is the very final shot. I'm not entirely sure I understood the exact meaning behind it, but it was powerful, nonetheless. That's precisely what I love about the art of film. It can make you feel all sorts of unexpected things without having the foggiest clue as to why you're feeling them.

Best Picture of 1956

Not one of the five previous verdicts over which I have pondered has been an easy task. The decision for the Best Picture of 1956 is certainly no exception. Due to my involvement in StinkyLulu's Supporting Actress Smackdown of the same year, three more films from 1956 crept into my viewing schedule and, as I already indicated, some of these additional films had me wishing they were in the Best Picture race. Nonetheless, I am to choose from the five films the Academy selected and so it shall be done.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1956 are:

• Around the World in 80 Days
• Friendly Persuasion
• Giant
• The King and I
• The Ten Commandments

1956 was certainly a year for epic films. Three of the contenders clock in at over three hours, but interestingly, these three epics are of completely different genres - one is Biblical, another comic adventure, the third an intimate family saga. So, as always, it becomes difficult to compare them with each other. As for the two shorter films - which are both still over two hours - we have a Broadway musical adaptation and a film which I'm not quite sure how to categorise since it contains elements from several genres - western, drama, war, comedy, family. For that reason, and the fact that it simply emits a less important vibe than the other four, I will remove Friendly Persuasion from my shortlist first.

Of the remaining four, any could be labelled my favourite. They each succeeded in their own particular way. The King and I is charming and beautiful, yet it remains overly sentimental. Around the World in 80 Days is certainly a fun adventure, offering some stunning cinematography, but its tendency to draw out certain sequences makes for an erratic pace. The Ten Commandments is a spectacle of design and visual effects with a weighty sensibility, but it is perhaps this self-important weight that left a funny taste in my mouth.

That leaves us with Giant, although, honestly, it's a very close call. Giant is not without flaws, but it emerged with more engaging emotional content than the others, largely owing to its performances. Hence, Giant shall be named my favourite of 1956.

Best Picture of 1956
Academy's choice: Around the World in 80 Days	Matt's choice: Giant

Your choice:

Don't forget to make your own voice heard by voting for your favourite 1956 Best Picture nominee above. Some of the previous votes have become very interesting, so check out those results, too. You can access them on their respective verdict pages by clicking on the years on the sidebar to the right. Next up we move to the 1980s...

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1984 are:

• Amadeus
• The Killing Fields
• A Passage to India
• Places in the Heart
• A Soldier's Story

Join me as we continue the ride through Academy Awards history with a year full of movies dealing with some fairly serious subject matter.

1956 - Around the World in 80 Days

As I complete the Best Picture nominees from 1956, make sure you check out the Supporting Actress Smackdown for the same year, which StinkyLulu has now posted. A lively discussion of the nominees for that race can be found there, including my own musings. Fascinating stuff, indeed.

Saturday night was my first Halloween in New York and an impressive sight it was. The effort that the people of this city go to is spectacular. The weather was atrocious and yet the party-goers were out in droves. Kat and I joined the multitudes lining Sixth Avenue to catch a glimpse of the parade. That experience was less than pleasant, mostly due to the discomfort provided by the rain and the crowds, but observing the array of creatively attired people wandering through Union Square more than made up for it. Some very inventive costumes everywhere we looked. We felt quite inadequate with our witch's hat and skeleton mask.

In my previous post, I erroneously cited the project's next film as the longest of the nominees due to the equally erroneous information on Netflix's website. In any case, to conclude the 1956 Best Picture contest, yesterday I watched...

Around the World in 80 Days

Director:

Michael Anderson

Screenplay:

James Poe, John Farrow & S.J. Perelman

(based on the novel by Jules Verne)

Starring:

David Niven, Cantinflas, Robert Newton, Shirley MacLaine and dozens of star cameos

Academy Awards:

8 nominations

5 wins, including Best Picture

Similar to fellow Best Picture nominee The Ten Commandments, producer Michael Todd's grand opus Around the World in 80 Days begins oddly with a hosted introduction. Unlike DeMille's picture, however, the introduction is not by the film's director, but by popular broadcast journalist Edward R. Murrow, the first of a great many cameos in the film. He throws to clips of the silent classic A Trip to The Moon, considered to be the first science fiction movie ever produced, before the main feature begins.

Phileas Fogg is a wealthy English gentleman of the 19th century with far too much time and money on his hands. While at his gentlemen's club playing whist with his peers, the discussion turns to the advances in long-distance passenger transportation. Fogg comments that it would now be possible to circumnavigate the globe within eighty days, a claim doubted by his colleagues. A wager is set and the race is on. To accompany him on the trip, Fogg brings along his new valet, the highly resourceful and multi-talented Passepartout. Following them closely is Inspector Fix, who intends to arrest Fogg on suspicion of robbing the Bank of England. Using various methods of transport, they travel through Europe, Asia and North America, experiencing the local customs, in their attempt to return to London in time to win the bet.

Around the World in 80 Days is a charming adventure with a great deal of humour. My biggest gripe about it, though, is not so much the length itself, but the fact that it is an unnecessary length. There are simply too many sections that are drawn out gratuitously. The introduction is a prime example. We are shown clips of a classic French short film. The link to the main feature that follows is tenuous. Both stories are based on works by Jules Verne, but I imagine, just like The Ten Commandments, it is intended to instill in its audience a sense of wonderment and grandeur. Perhaps this is simply a convention to which a modern audience cannot relate, because I found myself merely wishing for the film to begin already.

Thankfully, once the introduction is complete, the story begins quickly. Fogg and Passepartout are in a hot air balloon (pictured) before you know it, having begun their race around the world. But the excitement from the thrill of the deadline does not last long. Once in Spain, there is an elongated bullfight scene that, although comical, could easily have been shortened by half without affecting the plot. And it continues this way through most of the film. With myriad sequences of local sights and customs, it almost feels like a geography lesson.

It's a double-edge sword, I suppose. On the one hand, the episodic feel of the film allows for an interesting and enjoyable diversity. On the other, we only catch a glimpse of each new mini-story and its characters that we are simply not invested enough in the outcome. However, I'm not convinced this is the source material's fault. The lingering shots of the dazzling locations are at the expense of much needed detail in the subplots.

After spending the majority of my review complaining about the film's gratuitousness, let me shift gears now in order to avoid giving the wrong impression. On the positive side - and there are honestly plenty of positives - the humour in the film is delightful and it is chock full of clever adventure. Fogg is constantly needing to be innovative to overcome the various obstacles. Plus, no method of transport is left undiscovered, allowing such gems as, "Follow that rickshaw," to be followed a few minutes later by, "Follow that ostrich." The final hour of the film regains some of that exhilarating urgency as they approach the conclusion of their journey. There is a particularly exciting action sequence on the train to New York, involving some stereotypically hostile Native Americans, made all the more amusing when several arrows miraculously bounce off Passepartout's body.

David Niven is highly amusing as the snobbish Phileas Fogg, the perfect complement to Cantinflas' adorably entertaining Passepartout. A young Shirley MacLaine plays an Indian Princess saved from a fiery death. Although from the subcontinent, her character got her education in England, and it seems she may have gotten her complexion there, as well. And then there are the numerous cameos. In fact, this film is often credited with coining the term 'cameo'. My favourite was Peter Lorre as the Asian steward of an ocean liner. And don't blink or you'll miss Frank Sinatra.

That concludes the nominees for 1956. The verdict is up next and, like my previous verdict for 2001, no one film is standing out as a clear favourite. So, yet again, my brain has its work cut out.

1956 - Giant

An interesting thing is happening as I review the films from 1956. As I mentioned previously, along with the Best Picture nominees, I am also watching the nominees from the Supporting Actress category for a Smackdown to be posted this Sunday at StinkyLulu's blog. The interesting thing is that I seem to be enjoying the supporting actresses' films more than the ones nominated for Best Picture. Written on the Wind and Baby Doll, for example, had me engaged on a deeper level than any of the Picture nominees so far. Not that I've specifically disliked any of them. I guess, as an actor, I'm simply bound to be drawn to films that contain more Oscar worthy performances.

Interestingly, the next film in Matt vs. the Academy, is not only the sole film to appear on both the Best Picture and Best Supporting Actress nominations list, but it also stars actors from the two films I mentioned above, namely Rock Hudson from Written on the Wind and Carroll Baker from Baby Doll. Coincidence? Probably. The film in question, which I viewed today, is...

Giant

Director:

George Stevens

Screenplay:

Fred Guiol and Ivan Moffat

(based on the novel by Edna Ferber)

Starring:

Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean, Carroll Baker, Chill Wills, Mercedes McCambridge, Dennis Hopper

Academy Awards:

10 nominations

1 win, for Best Director

As its title suggests, Giant is a big film about a big family living in a big state. The Benedicts are a wealthy Texan family with acres of ranch land. When the head of the family, Bick, brings home his new bride from Maryland, things become a bit rocky. Leslie is a bit of a feminist and Texan men are not in the mood for changing their traditions. Ranch handyman Jett is somewhat unpopular, but when Bick's sister dies, leaving a small piece of land to Jett, Bick can only stand by as Jett discovers oil, becoming wealthier than the Benedicts ever could have imagined. Time goes by and Bick and Leslie have three children, but it's his only son that Bick dotes over, expecting him to take over the ranch one day. But Jordy has other plans. Not only does he want to become a doctor, but he also falls for a Mexican-American woman, both cause for his father's disdain.

At well over three hours long, Giant certainly lives up to its name. It is a saga. But it's an intimate saga. Although the ranch is massive, the people living on it are still subject to the same human condition. They love, they fear, they fight, they learn. Director George Stevens is constantly obscuring his characters from view, behind newspapers or in darkness, as if to highlight how small they become amongst such a grand landscape.

Perhaps also it is symbolic of how hidden they are from each other. The main couple, Bick and Leslie, have opposing ideals. He is a traditionalist, she a progressive. Bick lives in a world where men are men and women are not. Leslie, with her feminism and humanitarianism, doesn't seem to fit in, but even she has her own prejudices. For instance, when her daughter shows an interest in ranching, Leslie is downright against it, preferring her to pursue a more refined career, one more suitable for a lady.

The film explores the dichotomy between our plans for the future and the reality. Bick, especially, struggles with letting go of tradition in a changing world. He is denied his vision of passing on the reins (literally) to his son. To add insult to injury, his ex-handyman becomes the richest man in Texas. In the end, however, he learns to adjust. Where once he supported the segregation of Mexican-Americans, he now stands up for their right to eat in the same diner as everyone else.

For its righteous themes, however, Giant contains a great deal of seemingly unnecessary fistfighting. As was standard in those days, throwing a punch seemed to be the only respected way to resolve an issue. I thought perhaps Bick had finally learned his lesson when he felt ashamed after a fight, but his shame was not from resorting to violence, but that he lost. He is buoyed by his wife, who even describes the altercation as "glorious", proud that her husband stood up for a worthy cause. It's as if to say, "Well, you may not have won, but at least you threw the first punch." Really? Is this sort of caveman attitude to be glorified? Or perhaps I misunderstood and the whole point was to represent the flaws in this kind of masculinity, especially in Texas.

James Dean, in his final role, exudes a unique energy, enough to garner him his second posthumous Oscar nomination. Elizabeth Taylor gives a mature performance beyond her years. She was just 23 years old when the film was shot, one year younger than Carroll Baker, who played her daughter. We are also treated to an impressive (and very young) Dennis Hopper as Jordy.

Only one more picture from 1956 to go, the longest one yet. Longer, in fact, than the first two 1956 nominees I watched put together!

1956 - The Ten Commandments

Braving Saturday night's miserable weather here in New York, Kat and I enjoyed a tasty meal in Little Italy before heading to an improv show. Not just any improv show, mind you. This one comprised of two stars of television's Whose Line Is It Anyway?, namely Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood. As an improviser myself, I always feel a tinge of envy watching other performers bring the house down, and these two were certainly no exception. It was positively inspirational to be witness to their quick-witted minds. The highlight is their grand finale, a backwards alphabet scene. Not so spectacular, I hear you say, but before the scene begins, stage hands littered the floor with 100 mousetraps. The scene is then performed with Colin and Brad barefoot and wearing blindfolds. Nothing short of hilarious. They have an extensive list of tour dates around the country, so definitely check them out if they come to your town. Tour dates are on their website.

Sunday was a lazier day, despite the weather being much more agreeable. In the afternoon, we had the chance to watch the epic that is the next nominee from 1956's Best Picture race...

The Ten Commandments

Director:

Cecil B. DeMille

Screenplay:

Æneas MacKenzie, Jesse L. Lasky, Jr., Jack Gariss, Fredric M. Frank

(based on three separate novels by J.H. Ingraham, A.E. Southon, Dorothy Clarke Wilson)

Starring:

Charlton Heston, Yul Brynner, Anne Baxter, Edward G. Robinson, Yvonne De Carlo

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

1 win, for Best Special Effects

A film of literally Biblical proportions, The Ten Commandments oddly begins with the director himself delivering a personal introduction. Stepping out from behind a majestic curtain, Mr. DeMille, with no hint of irony, announces just how important the following presentation is. After his absurd yet sincere plea for his motion picture to be considered alongside the Bible itself, the opening credits continue the grandstanding before the film finally begins.

Little baby Moses is reluctantly abandoned by his mother, who fears for his safety when the Pharaoh decrees that all Hebrew babies shall be killed. With a stroke of luck, it is the Pharaoh's own daughter who discovers the child, taking him in as her own to live the life of an Egyptian prince. Thirty years later, Moses is being considered for the throne along with his cousin, Rameses, who feels a sense of entitlement on account of the fact he is the current Pharaoh's son. With the throne also comes the hand of the beautiful Nefretiri, who has already given her heart to Moses, more fodder for Rameses' dislike of him. Moses' successful construction of a new city, partly attributed to his respect for the Hebrew slaves, wins the favour of the Pharaoh. However, before he is offered the throne, his true identity as the son of Hebrew slaves is revealed, forcing him to be ejected from Egypt. After a chat with the Almighty himself, Moses realises his destiny as the man to free the Hebrew people from slavery.

I am compelled to admit that I had a little difficulty with The Ten Commandments. Although I found the monumentally epic nature of the film entertaining, I struggled to keep my personal views on religion at bay. Perhaps if it were any other story, I may not have cared so much, but I guess I took exception at DeMille's own claims of authenticity. In his defense, there is a great deal of attention to detail put in to the historical accuracy of the time period, but to claim to have any more than one source for the religious elements of the story is simply ludicrous. Plus, at the risk of offending any Biblical inerrantists, if this were any other story, we'd all be commenting on the film's plot holes.

Okay, now that I've got that out of the way, I freely confess that the film's enormity is very impressive. Being a Cecil B. DeMille picture, we are graced with several awe-inspiring sequences involving thousands of extras and grand locations. Some of the film was, in fact, shot in Egypt using colossal sets built into the sweeping desert landscapes. Even the Oscar-winning special effects, which are fairly unconvincing by today's standards, must have been astonishing to a 1950s audience.

There is no denying, of course, that the story is a classic one - a tale of good versus evil with heroes and villains galore. Moses is almost portrayed as an action hero, diving to save an old woman from a crushing block of stone or swooping in to protect young Midian women from Amalekite bullies. His perfectly windswept hair constantly appears as though he just stepped out of the salon. The stark white, not grey, beard of old Moses, however, is perhaps a little laughable. Nonetheless, his words - and everyone else's, for that matter - are very poetic. There's a classic lyrical quality to the dialogue that creates quite a distinguished feel.

Yul Brynner, in opposition to the pantomime quality he brought to The King and I, shows versatility here in an intensely restrained performance as Rameses. Still, the Academy chose to award him the Best Actor Oscar for playing a Siamese King, rather than an Egyptian Pharaoh. And that's Charlton Heston's own son playing the baby Moses.

1956 - Friendly Persuasion

Cupcakes. Mmm, cupcakes. Kat and I have discovered a New York chain of cupcake stores (now all over the country) called Crumbs. If there's one in your town, stop reading this and go there immediately. Just take a look at their website, if you need convincing. The original store is directly across the road from where I'm currently rehearsing, which, although convenient, is dangerously tempting.

In fact, after rehearsal last night, I picked up a White Hot Chocolate and a Caramel Apple to share with my darling wife as we watched the next film on 1956's Best Picture nominee list...

Friendly Persuasion

Director:

William Wyler

Screenplay:

Michael Wilson

(based on the novel by Jessamyn West)

Starring:

Gary Cooper, Dorothy McGuire, Anthony Perkins, Richard Eyer, Robert Middleton, Phyllis Love, Peter Mark Richman, Marjorie Main

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

The Birdwells are a Quaker family living in Civil War Indiana. Being Quakers, they live a simple existence, foregoing such pleasures as music, dancing and using the word, "you". But the world is changing and these forbidden activities become more and more intriguing, especially to Jess, the Birdwell patriarch, who is tempted to purchase an organ much to his wife's dismay. The ultimate test of their faith, however, comes when Union soldiers request the help of Quaker men in the fight against the Confederacy. The Birdwells' eldest son, Josh, is particularly tormented as he struggles to reconcile his feelings of responsibility with his faith's principle of pacifism.

Friendly Persuasion is a pleasant enough film. Nothing ground breaking, but pleasant. A pleasant mix of humour and sincerity. A pleasant slate of characters who are interesting and conflicted. A pleasant director who had already won two Oscars and would take his third in just a few more years. See? Pleasant. All the right ingredients for a satisfying cinematic experience. And it is satisfying. Which really should be enough, but perhaps alongside the vast catalogue of brilliant films at the heart of this project, Friendly Persuasion simply becomes shadowed by their greatness.

Maybe it's because more than half the film is occupied by comic relief. If it were an out-and-out comedy, this may not matter so much, but the style of comedy is that of a serious film lightening the mood after a dramatic scene. Except the dramatic scenes in this film mostly appear at the end, which results in a large portion of the film containing scene after scene of comic relief without a break. It's like it needed, dare I say it, some dramatic relief.

Don't misconstrue me, however. The comedy is entertaining and well-played. Pleasant, you might even say. Gary Cooper's portrayal of Jess with all his awkwardness is especially joyful to witness. But as amusing as it is to watch him explain to his wife his purchase of a musical instrument, the potential for emotion clearly sits with the Quakers' torment as they struggle to remain non-violent in a land rife with war. A young Anthony Perkins (pictured), whose character Josh carries this side of the story, delivers a particularly commendable performance.

At first, the constant use of the word "thee" is a tad distracting, but once you become acclimated, it becomes quite natural. But there's still the issue of its grammatical usage. Perhaps it's because I'm in the midst of rehearsing a Shakespeare play that I recognised the script's misuse of the word. Sometimes when they say, "thee", they should be saying, "thou". However, upon further investigation, this was apparently how Quakers used the word, so it's not the screenwriter's mistake after all.

Speaking of the screenwriter, this film and its script became embroiled in a fascinating period in the history of the Academy Awards. In 1956, scribe Michael Wilson was blacklisted as a result of the McCarthyism hysteria gripping the nation at the time. Consequently, his name did not appear in the film's opening credits and, according to Academy by-laws, he was ineligible to be nominated for an Oscar. The screenwriting achievement itself was eligible, however, and indeed, received a nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay without Wilson's name attached. The final ballot sent to Academy members only included the other four nominees, so Friendly Persuasion, despite having six official nominations, only had the opportunity to win five. Nonetheless, since it didn't succeed in any of the other five categories, it seems unlikely it would have won the Screenplay award. In 1996, Wilson's credit was restored to the film and, in 2002, the Academy reinstated his name into official nomination records.

1956 - The King and I

When searching the blogosphere for similar projects to Matt vs. the Academy, I came across StinkyLulu, who is pursuing a similar goal to mine. We are differentiated only by the awards category that bears our focus, StinkyLulu choosing to turn his attention to the Best Supporting Actress nominees. Each month is dedicated to the nominees of a different year, culminating in a Supporting Actress Smackdown, which involves guests rating each performance. The numbers are tallied and a winner is announced. The site is well worth a gander.

As you may have deduced by now, I will be one such Smackdown guest for the month of October, which will see the Supporting Actress nominees from 1956 under review. Hence, I have chosen that same year for my next review of Best Picture nominees. As it happens, though, only one film appears on both shortlists, so I will have a few extra movies to watch over the next few days. I will remind you, lovely readers, when the Smackdown is posted (scheduled for November 1) and, no doubt, I will take part in future Smackdowns too.

Today, the first of the Best Picture nominees from 1956 took a ride in my DVD player...

The King and I

Director:

Walter Lang

Screenplay:

Ernest Lehman

(based on the stage musical by Rodgers & Hammerstein)

Starring:

Yul Brynner, Deborah Kerr, Rita Moreno, Martin Benson, Terry Saunders

Academy Awards:

9 nominations

5 wins, including Best Actor

Based on the popular Rodgers & Hammerstein Broadway musical, which was in turn based on the novel Anna and the King of Siam by Margaret Landon, which was in turn based on the memoirs of the real Anna Leonowens, The King and I has undoubtedly lost some of its historical accuracy through each fictionalised interpretation. But historical accuracy is probably not the main concern of a movie musical as charmingly saccharine as this one.

A schoolteacher from the United Kingdom of the mid-19th century travels with her son to a vastly different kingdom, that of Siam. She has been invited by the King to teach his many children the ways of the English, both language and customs. She quickly discovers, however, that the King is a stubborn and arrogant man who could do with a few lessons himself. In that cloying style that only musicals from the 1950s can get away with, Anna attempts to soften the King's heart and, in doing so, comes to a few realisations herself.

As with most musicals of this era, The King and I is clearly more about escapism than anything else. It's good old-fashioned family entertainment. Music, dancing, extravagant sets and costumes. Not that it doesn't attempt to offer some thought-provoking themes. It's just that those serious issues, like sexism and slavery, while not presented insincerely, tend to be somehow undermined by all the schmaltz.

We also encounter what can easily be perceived as an arrogant disrespect of another culture. The Siamese traditions are portrayed as inferior to those of Western culture. Buddhism is horribly misrepresented. Not to mention that the casting director seems to be unaware of the difference between Asians and Latinos. (In their defense, I guess Thai actors were hard to come by in 1950s Hollywood.) But all that seems to blissfully slip into the nether reaches of your mind as you marvel at all of the beautiful colours and movements. In fact, the sequence that most perverts the beliefs of Buddhists happens to also be the most stunning visual feast of the film - a cleverly entertaining ballet adaptation of Uncle Tom's Cabin, patronisingly yet adorably named Small House of Uncle Thomas.

Despite its sentimentality, The King and I remains an engaging story with some delightful music. Deborah Kerr and Yul Brynner both received acting nominations, the latter taking home the prize for his portrayal of the King - a more cartoonish Oscar-winning performance you'll be hard pressed to find. If it were in anything other than a 1950s musical, it may not have been so charming. As it stands, however, Brynner's inclination towards melodrama not only fits right in but actually adds to the enjoyment of this awkwardly innocent yet extravagant musical.

Best Picture of 2001

For the first time, I am as yet undecided as I sit down to write the verdict. Rather confusingly, my enjoyment level for most of these films shifted since first seeing them. Since the films themselves have not changed, I can only assume that my prior expectations infiltrated my open-mindedness. Two of the films, which I had previously held in high regard, suffered from this cruel phenomenon, while a third emerged with a more favourable opinion than I had originally placed upon it. Consequently, I'm in a bit of a quandary, and I will sort this mess out as I write.

The nominees for Best Picture of 2001 are:

A Beautiful Mind
Gosford Park
In The Bedroom
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Moulin Rouge

Most years, the slate of films nominated for Best Picture are quite diverse, but for some reason, it seems particularly evident for 2001. Comparing an epic fantasy with an internal drama is difficult at the best of times, but adding a musical gala, a period satire and a powerful biopic to the mix is just ludicrous. So, how to separate them...

Firstly, let me consider Moulin Rouge. On the plus side, this visual and musical feast is entertainment at its purest. Fun and beautiful. Conversely, there is a certain lack of substance underneath all that eye and ear candy. Similarly, The Fellowship of the Ring is a magical fantasy evoking awe and wonderment, but for all the spectacle, the emotional content is somewhat superficial. However, I won't preclude either of these films from victory just yet.

Then we come to Gosford Park, which is the film that I found more satisfying the second time around. A clever and insightful take on the British class system. And being a period piece, it is not without its own visual grandeur. Also impressive is its seamless combination of period drama and murder mystery.

Likewise, A Beautiful Mind mixes a dramatic character study with several thriller elements. However, on second viewing it loses some of its impact, a fate that also befalls In the Bedroom. Despite an intense mood of suspense and tension, it failed to live up to the expectations I developed from my first viewing of it. On reflection, though, my slightly lower opinion (and it is only slight) of these two films on their repeat viewings somehow seems irrelevant since the purpose of this project is to see these films in the light in which they would originally have been seen. With that in mind, perhaps it should be my initial response to each of these movies that should take precedence. But that also seems a bit bizarre.

Right, well... I don't think I'm any closer to making a decision after all that. I wish Memento had been nominated. But, alas, I must forge ahead. So, what to do, what to do...

Thinking about how I feel about naming each one my favourite, Moulin Rouge seems to be the only one that definitely doesn't sound right to me. So, let's knock that out. I've seriously considered each of the other four, however, so now what? In the Bedroom seems too small to be named the best, but that's just callous. Granted, it lacks some of the impressive production values of the others but it makes up for that in its thick subtext. Still, for lack of a better reason, I'll toss it aside as well. And I suppose Gosford Park kinda falls into that category as well.

Hmm, I didn't like doing that. I liked both of those films a great deal. But enough of the past. Onwards and upwards. Of the final two, The Fellowship of the Ring is the most spectacular, but I think, because of its one-dimensional characters, I just didn't feel as deep a connection with it as A Beautiful Mind. So, it seems I'm selecting the same film that the Academy chose. I was not expecting that. My favourite Best Picture nominee from 2001 shall be A Beautiful Mind.

Best Picture of 2001
Academy's choice: A Beautiful Mind	Matt's choice: A Beautiful Mind

Your choice:

Whew, that was gruelling. I'll be very interested to hear everyone else's opinions on this year. I'm still unsure of my pick so I'm looking forward to seeing which film leads the poll. For our next review, we will be heading to 1956, a year with quite a few grand films in competition.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1956 are:

Around the World in 80 Days
Friendly Persuasion
Giant
The King and I
The Ten Commandments

Plus, not only will I be watching the Best Picture nominees, I will also be making some guest comments on another blog - one which is not dissimilar to this one - on the Best Supporting Actress nominees of the same year. But more on that next time...

2001 - In the Bedroom

A couple of days ago, I finally got around to seeing Inglourious Basterds. Quite the powerhouse movie. I think it may be Tarantino's best yet. And a potential Best Picture nominee for next year. What's with the weird spelling of the title, though? Anyway, it seems to have got me excited for the slew of Oscar bait films that will be released in the coming months prior to the nominations.

Immediately after seeing it, I had the opportunity to be inspired by another piece of entertainment. One of the perks of my ushering job is that I occasionally get to work during a special preview performance of an upcoming show. On Thursday, I sat in on a rehearsed reading of a new musical entitled Red Sox Nation. A very moving show indeed. But more than that, it co-starred Cousin Larry! I grew up on Perfect Strangers, so standing not two feet from Mark Linn-Baker was somewhat of a minor thrill.

Yesterday, I watched the final 2001 Best Picture nominee...

In The Bedroom

Director:

Todd Field

Screenplay:

Rob Festinger and Todd Field

(based on the short story "Killings" by Andre Dubus)

Starring:

Tom Wilkinson, Sissy Spacek, Nick Stahl, Marisa Tomei, William Mapother

Academy Awards:

5 nominations

0 wins

If you haven't seen In the Bedroom, I recommend you see it first before reading my thoughts because this is yet another film that is difficult to discuss without revealing important plot points. Right, so, if you're still reading, I'll assume you've either seen it already or don't give a tinker's cuss if I ruin it for you. So, here goes...

Set in a small coastal town in Maine, In the Bedroom follows the story of Matt and Ruth Fowler, an average couple who endure a suffering to which no family should be subjected. Their son, Frank, who should be off to college shortly, is dating Natalie, an older woman with two cute kids and a violent ex-husband. None too pleased that he's been replaced by the young whipper-snapper, Natalie's ex trashes her home and in an ensuing argument, kills Frank. The Fowlers are obviously devastated, but when legal proceedings result in the killer being released on bail until the criminal trial, Matt and Ruth find themselves cooped up in a small town with the man who murdered their son, a hardship that begins to unravel their marriage.

Well, the fact that this film and The Fellowship of the Ring were nominated for the same award does seem somewhat ridiculous. They are opposite ends of the film-making spectrum. The former is big, loud and fantastical, while the latter is small, quiet and subtle. Both legitimate and entertaining, but near impossible to compare with one another. But I'll discuss more of that in my next post when I have to somehow choose a winner.

In the Bedroom contains basket loads of that stuff I missed in Fellowship - subtext. There is so much going on underneath the words and so much bubbling under the surface of the characters that the audience has to figure things out on their own. Nothing is forced down our throats. In fact, quite the opposite. Some scenes are just left to our imagination. When Matt has the unthinkable task of informing Ruth of their son's death, we are only shown his arrival at the school where she works. He sees her in the middle of a choir rehearsal and that's it. And yet that's enough. From these subtle images, we understand just how impossibly tough this is going to be for Matt. Brilliant storytelling.

And that kind of storytelling is utilised often throughout the film creating a constant mood of tension. Yes, it takes its time and I confess I did wish on occasion that things would move along a tad quicker, but that was partly due to the discomfort one experiences when watching these events unfold. A positive side effect of this method of film-making is it is truly unpredictable. Although, having seen this film once before, it obviously lost some of its unpredictability, but the tension most definitely remained. But I do think that, once again, like A Beautiful Mind, I enjoyed this film just a little less this time around.

There is no doubt, however, that this genre of film is right up my alley. Probably because it is very much an actor's movie. So much subtlety and naturalism. And this cast does not disappoint. Oscar-winners Sissy Spacek and Marisa Tomei both received nominations here, as did Tom Wilkinson. I especially enjoyed Celia Weston's performance as a friend of the Fowlers.

Well, the verdict is up next and this one is going to be a doozy. No idea yet which way I'm going to fall.

2001 - A Beautiful Mind

Today, I went to the gym for the first time in ... well, ever. I've never been a member of a gym before. I suppose I figured exercise was something that could be done anywhere, so why pay through the nose for a room full of equipment you don't know how to use properly when you can just go for a jog. Of course, I never went for a jog either, but it was the perfect justification for not going to the gym. Kat and I had a stationary bike at home in Sydney, which for me, was the ideal way to exercise, because I could slip a DVD into the player and watch a movie while I shed the pounds. But, alas, no bike here in Astoria, so we needed to look elsewhere for our fitness needs. And since our insurance pretty much covers the entire cost of membership, we joined a gym on the weekend. We have to visit it at least 50 times within six months to receive the insurance rebate, so let's see how that pans out...

Not wanting to stray too far from the exercise-movie relationship, after the gym, I slipped a DVD into the player and watched another Best Picture nominee from 2001...

A Beautiful Mind

Director:

Ron Howard

Screenplay:

Akiva Goldsman

(based on the book by Sylvia Nasar)

Starring:

Russell Crowe, Jennifer Connelly, Ed Harris, Paul Bettany, Christopher Plummer, Adam Goldberg, Josh Lucas

Academy Awards:

8 nominations

4 wins, for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Supporting Actress and Best Adapted Screenplay

Based on the life of a Nobel Laureate, the beautiful mind of the title belongs to John Nash, a brilliant mathematician with a slight problem when it comes to social interaction. He thinks in proofs and formulae about everything, from the behaviour of pigeons to the best method to get laid. His phenomenal aptitude at code breaking piques the interest of the Department of Defense, who put him to work on a top secret assignment uncovering patterns in newspapers and magazines. Alicia, his wife and former student, notices Nash's increasing paranoia and he is soon diagnosed as a schizophrenic. Armed with this new perspective, our nerdy hero struggles with determining what in his life is real and what is just a hallucinatory symptom of his condition.

Here's another one of those films that is inevitably less powerful the second time around. I remember being completely taken in by Nash's hallucinations the first time I saw A Beautiful Mind, even though I knew the main character was schizophrenic. I accepted his experiences as they became more and more implausible, so it took some time before I realised what was going on. But unlike a thriller or mystery that may leave clever clues to the twist that can be enjoyed on repeat viewings (like in The Sixth Sense, for example), this film is a drama, so the focus is on character, before and after the twist is revealed. Thus, since the delusions that Nash experiences are extremely real to him, director Ron Howard makes them a reality for us. This means that, although you get a different perspective on the events if you've seen the film before, there's not really anything new to glean from them.

That said, some of the hallucinatory scenes are still particularly gripping, whether you're aware of their reality or not. Plus, the smart and subtle use of visual effects as Nash's mind spots patterns and calculates formulae works very nicely. But this film is a character study if ever there was one. As Nash's psychiatrist ponders during his treatment, "Imagine if you suddenly learned that the people, the places, the moments most important to you were not gone, not dead, but worse, had never been. What kind of hell would that be?" Don't worry, though. The dialogue doesn't hit us over the head like that very often, but even though that line is a little manipulative and sentimental, it is certainly food for thought.

Being a character study, the actor playing that character has his work cut out for him. Here, Russell Crowe isn't bad as Nash, but perhaps I'm only convinced by his performances when he plays the rough around the edges roles. Think Romper Stomper and Proof of Life and especially Gladiator. Tough guys who say things as they are. Just like Crowe himself. However, dress him up as a middle-aged tobacco industry whistle-blower or, in this case, a meek and socially awkward academic, and for some reason, I just don't buy it. Perhaps it was the false teeth. Or maybe the false accent. Still, the old-age make-up at the end of the film is incredibly impressive, on both Crowe and Jennifer Connelly, who gives a top notch Oscar-winning performance as Nash's long-suffering but supportive wife.

It has certainly been tough for me to comment on A Beautiful Mind because I know I was honestly taken aback on my initial viewing. I still enjoyed it this time but I guess you can never get back that sense of wonder you feel when you are genuinely surprised. And it happens to the best of them. Even Psycho, with all its brilliance, is never quite the same after that first time...

2001 - Gosford Park

Can someone please tell me where to buy some decent fruit in New York? I just don't understand why there is so much sub-par fruit in this city. In Sydney, the supermarket was more than satisfactory for your produce needs, and the innumerable fruit and veggie shops in our neighbourhood were just an added bonus. But here in New York, the supermarket's fruit section is less than appetising. I know there are farmer's markets around, but must I travel to Union Square every weekend to find a peach that actually smells like a peach? And perhaps I've been spoilt with Queensland bananas, but the soft yellow sticks they call bananas in this city just don't cut it.

Well, at least my appetite for fried food is easily sated.

Today, I watched the third of the nominees from the 2001 Best Picture contest...

Gosford Park

Director:

Robert Altman

Screenplay:

Julian Fellowes

Starring:

Eileen Atkins, Bob Balaban, Alan Bates, Charles Dance, Stephen Fry, Michael Gambon, Richard E. Grant, Derek Jacobi, Kelly MacDonald, Helen Mirren, Jeremy Northam, Clive Owen, Ryan Phillipe, Maggie Smith, Kristin Scott Thomas, Emily Watson

Academy Awards:

7 nominations

1 win, for Best Original Screenplay

An interesting twist on the classic English manor murder mystery, Gosford Park begins as an intricately woven tale of several characters who converge on the country house of Sir William McCordle for a weekend of fine dining, respectable music and good old-fashioned bird murder ... I mean, pheasant-hunting. Upstairs, the wealthy folk enjoy these spoils whilst downstairs, the servants potter about after them. Then, the unthinkable happens when Sir William is discovered dead in his study, apparently murdered twice. A police investigation ensues and everybody's secrets are revealed.

I don't remember thinking very much of this film the first time I saw it, but perhaps I've matured because it really tickled my fancy this time around. It's a positively fascinating exploration of the differences and similarities between the two classes represented. All sorts of relationships are going on both upstairs and downstairs, and sometimes between the two, and there are struggles, doubts and fears on both sides of the coin. It seems it's not easy being a servant, but it's not easy being a part of respectable society, either, with all that etiquette one must follow.

Being a Robert Altman film, there are, of course, myriad characters, which is a little complicated at first, but once you've figured out who's who, there are plenty of secrets to be discovered behind closed doors. In fact, it just gets more and more complex as the film proceeds, with people's lives intertwining in all sorts of surprising ways, that you do need to keep on top of it all.

If Gosford Park were just about the class system of 1930s Britain - which is, in fact, just how the film initially presents itself - it would be fascinating enough, but what is particularly satisfying is that the first half of the film turns out to be an elaborate and clever set-up for what is to come. Not only do we witness the class struggle, but also littered throughout are subtle hints and whispers of motives and means. And most cleverly, the whodunit style of the second half still retains the exploration of the societal themes.

The large cast are extremely talented at underplaying all the subtleties and it would be hard to single out any of them ... but I will, anyway. The Academy deservedly gave Helen Mirren and Maggie Smith nominations for Best Supporting Actress. I particularly enjoyed Stephen Fry's bumbling inspector, as well as Clive Owen's suave servant. And imagine Michael Gambon's Sir William with a long grey beard and you have Professor Dumbledore #2.

2001 - The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

The next film in Matt vs. the Academy, along with its two sequels, hold the special honour of being the only Best Picture nominees in which I have auditioned for a role. Yep, about ten years ago, I got the call from my then agent that I would get the chance to play Samwise Gamgee. At the time, of course, I had no idea that The Lord of the Rings trilogy would become the giant that it has, but I still knew it was an important audition. Unfortunately, I didn't get to read directly for Peter Jackson (but again, he wasn't particularly renowned back then - have you seen Meet the Feebles?), and perhaps it wouldn't have made much difference if I had. For I didn't get the role. Not even a callback, as it happens. But who needs it anyway? What's Sean Astin ever done since then?

Okay, sour grapes aside, this film really should be experienced on the big screen, but my humble 32-inch widescreen TV set had to suffice for this viewing. I also decided to watch the original theatrical version in lieu of the extended edition. Although both were available to me, I reasoned that, for the purposes of this project, I should consider the same version that the Academy voters considered... Plus, it's 30 minutes shorter...

With that in mind, here are my thoughts on the 2001 Best Picture nominee...

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Director:

Peter Jackson

Screenplay:

Fran Walsh, Phillipa Boyens & Peter Jackson

(based on the novel by J.R.R. Tolkein)

Starring:

Elijah Wood, Ian McKellen, Liv Tyler, Viggo Mortensen, Sean Astin, Cate Blanchett, John Rhys-Davies, Billy Boyd, Dominic Monaghan, Orlando Bloom, Christopher Lee, Hugo Weaving, Sean Bean, Ian Holm

Academy Awards:

13 nominations

4 wins, including Best Cinematography and Best Visual Effects

You don't get much more epic than The Lord of the Rings. The first instalment of the Tolkein trilogy, The Fellowship of the Ring, introduces us to Frodo Baggins, a young hobbit who, thanks to his uncle Bilbo, is lumped with the task of disposing of a very powerful and magical ring forged by the evil wizard Sauron. Coming along for the ride are three of his young hobbit friends, who are mostly interested in eating rather than staying out of trouble. And trouble is exactly what finds them as Sauron sends all sorts of nasties in an attempt to reclaim the ring. Friendly wizard Gandalf introduces the hobbit gang to what can only be described as the United Nations of Middle-Earth, a council that assigns an Elf, a Dwarf and two Men to accompany Gandalf and the hobbits on their dangerous journey to destroy the ring, thereby destroying Sauron himself.

All the stops are pulled out in this fantasy tale. The production values are simply spectacular, from the stunning sets and costumes to the majestic music and sound. The visual effects are also phenomenal, but ironically, they are almost too good. As impressive as they are, it's a tad distracting to constantly wonder, "How do they do that?" when you should be concentrating on the story. Adding to the list of breathtaking qualities is the cinematography, which owes a lot to the diverse landscapes New Zealand has to offer. The Kiwi tourism board will never find better promotional material.

Now, it's lucky the film has all these wonderful visual and auditory elements because, just like Moulin Rouge, it suffers from a certain superficiality with respect to its characters and dialogue. Everyone just seems so one-dimensional. The language may be pleasantly poetic, if a little flowery, but it doesn't make up for the lack of depth. Why must everything be so black and white? Is it too much to ask for a bit of subtext beneath all those hollow words? It's just not real. Now, before you start saying, "But, Matt, it's not meant to be real - it's fantasy," I understand that. And the fantasy elements of the story are excellent. It's not the wizards and goblins and orcs I have a problem with. Even with fantasy-land characters, there still needs to be emotional content. They may not be human, but we are, so if you hope to engage an audience at a deeper level than just, "Wow, that looks amazing," then you'll need characters that are less plastic than this.

In spite of all that, I did find myself drawn in to the magic and fantasy of it all. In retrospect, it was mostly the sequences that had very little or no dialogue that had the most impact. The battle sequences were particularly gripping and all those sweeping shots of the Fellowship on their journey do make for a rollicking adventure. I definitely can't fault the cast, either. There are several moving scenes for which the performers, along with the stirring score, deserve credit. Ian McKellen, with his classical actor presence, is notably affecting as Gandalf. Viggo Mortensen and Sean Bean also manage to forge their own depth to their characters despite the script. Hugo Weaving occasionally becomes reminiscent of Agent Smith, which is unfortunate. And Liv Tyler and Cate Blanchett are just perfect as Elves, if only because of their ever so slightly unconventional beauty. I mean, they just look Elvish.

So, just to be clear, I still believe that The Fellowship of the Ring is a well-made film. It's just the general lack of real substance in the dialogue that bothers me. The film has some lofty themes - friendship, love, bravery, destiny, good vs. evil. But they are just treated too artificially for my liking. Fortunately, all the other elements of film-making combine to create something that is entertaining to watch. Just goes to show what you can do with a bit of money...