Many people would say that the biggest snub in Oscar history is that Audrey Hepburn did not get nominated for Best Actress for My Fair Lady. The film won 8 Oscars that year (including Best Picture, Best Director (George Cukor), and Best Actor (Rex Harrison) ) out of 12 nominations. It was nominated for Best Supporting Actor (Stanley Holloway), Best Supporting Actress (Gladys Cooper), and Best Adapted Screenplay (Alan Jay Lerner). And yet, the performance that is really the heart and soul of the entire film, Audrey Hepburn's portrayal of Eliza Doolittle, the street urchin transformed into an elegant lady, was not honored with even a nomination due to a technicality - the studio decided to dub in her singing with another woman's voice, and the dubbed in singing comprised a just high enough percentage of the role to disqualify her according to the Academy's rules. What makes the situation even worse is that it was a bad decision on the studio's part. Hepburn had not proven her talent as a singer, so the studio was not willing to take a chance on her voice. She proved in Breakfast at Tiffany's, however, that she was in fact a capable singer.
The story is simple enough. Around the turn on the Twentieth Century, linguistics professor Henry Higgins undertakes an experiment to teach flower girl Eliza how to speak properly, proposing that improving her speech will allow her to rise to a higher social class. Though they initially have an antagonistic relationship, the two gradually fall in love. Certainly not a complex enough story to really require the film's almost three hour running time, and yet it never really drags or bores. To be honest, while I am a fan of Audrey Hepburn, I was sort of dreading this film, fearing that a three hour musical would be one that I had to suffer through every minute of. Instead, I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. Well, maybe not every minute... It kind of drags in a couple of spots in the third hour. The song "Get Me To The Church On Time," in which Eliza Doolittle's father goes out for a night of drinking and whoring the night before his wedding, is somewhat amusing at first, but is far too long and repetitive - it has 4 or 5 verses, begins to lose its charm by the 4th verse, and then goes on to repeat the entire song about 4 times through. And Professor Higgins' musical lamentation "Why Can't A Woman Be Like A Man" is simply not as funny as it thinks it is.
I can't say that I think My Fair Lady deserved to beat out Dr. Strangelove for Best Picture that year - Strangelove is on my short list of all time favorite films, and much as I may have enjoyed My Fair Lady, it is not as revolutionary and unforgettable as Strangelove. Rex Harrison, however, absolutely deserved his Oscar. He took a character who should have been irredeemably arrogant and condescending, and found a way to make him somehow endearing, and very entertaining. (On a side note, it is apparent after about a minute of listening to him that Harrison's Higgins is clearly the inspiration for Family Guy's Stewie Griffin's entire personality and voice.) Likewise, Hepburn, had she not been unfairly disqualified, would have been absolutely deserving of the Oscar that she certainly would have been a shoo-in to win. She made a character that could easily have crossed the line into being too grating, too irritating to want to spend three hours with into somebody the viewer truly cares about. And, though some may dislike the film for this very reason, I really enjoyed the fact that My Fair Lady took its time to get where it wanted to go, rather than just rushing through the plot as quickly as it could. Yes, there are some unnecessary scenes (more critical reviews at the time called the film cavernous, a vacuum, over-long because of its empty spaces), but I appreciated it's willingness to take the scenic route, to allow the viewer to just relax and enjoy the show, and not feel rushed to the end.
Movie trivia question: One of the most successful directors in Oscar history, Frank Capra won 3 Oscars in 5 years back in the 1930s. The second of these films was later remade as an Adam Sandler vehicle. What was that film?
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Dr. Zhivago
In keeping with the David Lean thing (and because Netflix skipped ahead a couple of discs on my queue), today's review is of Dr Zhivago, winner of the 1966 Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, and nominee for Best Picture, Best Director (Lean), and Best Supporting Actor (Tom Courtenay).
Another of the sweeping epics for which director Lean is best known, Zhivago opens with a Russian general searching for his lost niece, the daughter of his half-brother, a poet named Zhivago, and a mysterious woman named Lara. From there, we are taken back to the days of the Bolshevik Revolution. Lara is a 17 year old student, the mistress of the wealthy Komarovski (Rod Steiger) until she leaves him to marry revolutionary leader Pasha (Courtenay). Yuri Zhivago (Omar Sharif), a poet by nature studying to be a physician as a more practical career, marries the upper-class daughter of one of his professors. The two meet during medical service in World War I, she serving as his nurse. They are separated following the war, but are reunited after Zhivago's brother, Yevgraf (Alec Guinness), a party official, helps him and his family escape the oppressive living conditions of Moscow to live in safety and obscurity in the Urals. By chance, once in the country, Zhivago is reunited with Lara, and the two have a passionate love affair, as she becomes the inspiration for his poetry.
For all of the people who proclaim Doctor Zhivago to be Lean's masterpiece, I found it to be rather disappointing. And for all of the critics who faulted Ryan's Daughter for failing to live up to the standards of this film, as I mentioned in my previous review, I personally found Ryan's Daughter to be the superior film. That, though, could be due to the fact that I had not heard anything about Ryan's Daughter prior to seeing it, and so had no expectations to be disappointed. I had always heard Dr Zhivago described as a great love story set against the backdrop of the Russian Revolution, so I was waiting for Yuri and Lara to meet and fall in love. And waiting. And waiting. About an hour and 45 minutes into the film, the two finally meet. For about 10 minutes of screen time. 45 minutes later, they are reunited to begin their affair - an affair, by the way, which springs up out of nowhere, with no precursors or natural development.
Not to say that Dr Zhivago is a bad film. Visually, the film is just as memorable as Lawrence of Arabia and Bridge on the River Kwai. The acting is very good, and the story, if you don't let expectations mar your viewing experience, is very absorbing and entertaining. It is worth seeing, if you have three and a half hours to spare. If you have never seen a David Lean film before, though, this is not the one I would recommend starting with.
Movie trivia question: Acting legend Humphrey Bogart only won 1 Best Actor Oscar. For What film did he win?
Another of the sweeping epics for which director Lean is best known, Zhivago opens with a Russian general searching for his lost niece, the daughter of his half-brother, a poet named Zhivago, and a mysterious woman named Lara. From there, we are taken back to the days of the Bolshevik Revolution. Lara is a 17 year old student, the mistress of the wealthy Komarovski (Rod Steiger) until she leaves him to marry revolutionary leader Pasha (Courtenay). Yuri Zhivago (Omar Sharif), a poet by nature studying to be a physician as a more practical career, marries the upper-class daughter of one of his professors. The two meet during medical service in World War I, she serving as his nurse. They are separated following the war, but are reunited after Zhivago's brother, Yevgraf (Alec Guinness), a party official, helps him and his family escape the oppressive living conditions of Moscow to live in safety and obscurity in the Urals. By chance, once in the country, Zhivago is reunited with Lara, and the two have a passionate love affair, as she becomes the inspiration for his poetry.
For all of the people who proclaim Doctor Zhivago to be Lean's masterpiece, I found it to be rather disappointing. And for all of the critics who faulted Ryan's Daughter for failing to live up to the standards of this film, as I mentioned in my previous review, I personally found Ryan's Daughter to be the superior film. That, though, could be due to the fact that I had not heard anything about Ryan's Daughter prior to seeing it, and so had no expectations to be disappointed. I had always heard Dr Zhivago described as a great love story set against the backdrop of the Russian Revolution, so I was waiting for Yuri and Lara to meet and fall in love. And waiting. And waiting. About an hour and 45 minutes into the film, the two finally meet. For about 10 minutes of screen time. 45 minutes later, they are reunited to begin their affair - an affair, by the way, which springs up out of nowhere, with no precursors or natural development.
Not to say that Dr Zhivago is a bad film. Visually, the film is just as memorable as Lawrence of Arabia and Bridge on the River Kwai. The acting is very good, and the story, if you don't let expectations mar your viewing experience, is very absorbing and entertaining. It is worth seeing, if you have three and a half hours to spare. If you have never seen a David Lean film before, though, this is not the one I would recommend starting with.
Movie trivia question: Acting legend Humphrey Bogart only won 1 Best Actor Oscar. For What film did he win?
Monday, June 7, 2010
Silence is golden
The only male to win (or be nominated for) an Oscar for a mute performance was Sir John Mills, who won the 1971 Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his role in Ryan's Daughter. The film was also nominated for Best Actress, for Sarah Miles' performance in the titular role. Mills did not limit his muteness to the movie role - he holds an unbreakable record for shortest Oscar acceptance speech. When he won the award, he walked on stage, took the statue, gave a nod of appreciation, and left.
This three-and-a-half hour epic, set in a small village in western Ireland during World War I, begins with Rosy Ryan (Miles), the spoiled, sheltered daughter of the local pub-owner, convincing the town schoolteacher, Charles Shaughnessey (Robert Mitchum) to marry her. She believes that she truly loves him. But, more importantly, she believes that she will be somehow transformed by him, that the act of marriage or the act of physical love will somehow add meaning and excitement to her boring, unfulfilling life. She soon finds, however, that married life in a small Irish village is still just life in a small Irish village, and that sex is just sex, not a life-changing experience.
Enter Major Doryan (Christopher Jones), a British soldier traumatized bt his experiences on the front lines of World War I, who is stationed in the village, ostensibly to aid in the suppression of the Irish rebellion, but actually (as the town is expected to be too quiet for any rebellious activity) to give him a chance to recover from his shell-shock. Rosy is instantly attracted to him, and the two have an affair. Her fellow townspeople soon find reason to suspect the affair, though, doing grievous damage to Rosy's reputation. ("There's loose women, there's whores, and then there's British soldiers' whores," says a shopkeeper after refusing to sell Rosy any goods.)
John Mills plays Michael, the town fool, a slack-jawed imbecile with a mouthful of horrid teeth and a limp, a man who sees much, understands little, and takes a lot of abuse at the hands of his fellow townpeople in the name of humor. His performance, though it won the Oscar, is very dated, and a bit embarrassing by modern standards. Drifting well into the realm of caricature, Mills' portrayal is heavy on affectation (overwrought facial expressions and gestures, limping, etc.), and light on substance or subtlety. By modern standards, the role would be more likely today to win a Razzie than an Oscar.
Despite the Oscar win and nomination that the film scored, it was not well-received critically at the time. In fact, that is a rather drastic understatement. Ryan's Daughter was so poorly received by critics in general, and so harshly torn apart by Pauline Kael specifically, that its director, David Lean, went into exile for 14 years before redeeming himself with his final film, 1984's Oscar winning A Passage to India. There seem to be two main criticisms against this film. One is that it is too opulent, that the story is not strong enough to sustain the epic length, and that the film falls back on lush visuals to hold the audience's interest. This may be true, but it is irrelevant. Are these critics new to epic filmmaking? Gone with the Wind was much longer than the story really needed, and it was heavy on lush visuals. So was Lawrence of Arabia. And Ben Hur. And Dances With Wolves. And Titanic. And so on, and so on. It's epic filmmaking, and that, in and of itself, should not be held against the film. I watched the entire duration of the film in a single sitting, and I was never bored with it, even if there were scenes that were not entirely necessary to the plot. The other main criticism against Ryan's Daughter is that it simply is not as good as David Lean's previous films. Again, this may be true, but it is irrelevant. Considering the fact that Lean's previous films included Lawrence of Arabia, The Bridge on the River Kwai, and Dr. Zhivago, to say that Ryan's Daughter is a bad film because it is not as good as his previous work is like saying that a perfectly prepared strip steak is a bad meal because it is not filet mignon. Retrospect has been much kinder to this film than its contemporary critics were, and while it may not be seen as a classic, it is at least not reviled now. But it saddens me to think about what classic films the world may have missed out on, what great masterpieces David Lean may have gone on to direct after this one, if not for the fact that Pauline Kael nitpicked this one to the point of driving its director into exile.
Movie trivia question: A frequent collaborator with David Lean was actor Alec Guinness. For what film, an Oscar winner for Best Original Screenplay, was Guinness given his first Oscar nomination?
This three-and-a-half hour epic, set in a small village in western Ireland during World War I, begins with Rosy Ryan (Miles), the spoiled, sheltered daughter of the local pub-owner, convincing the town schoolteacher, Charles Shaughnessey (Robert Mitchum) to marry her. She believes that she truly loves him. But, more importantly, she believes that she will be somehow transformed by him, that the act of marriage or the act of physical love will somehow add meaning and excitement to her boring, unfulfilling life. She soon finds, however, that married life in a small Irish village is still just life in a small Irish village, and that sex is just sex, not a life-changing experience.
Enter Major Doryan (Christopher Jones), a British soldier traumatized bt his experiences on the front lines of World War I, who is stationed in the village, ostensibly to aid in the suppression of the Irish rebellion, but actually (as the town is expected to be too quiet for any rebellious activity) to give him a chance to recover from his shell-shock. Rosy is instantly attracted to him, and the two have an affair. Her fellow townspeople soon find reason to suspect the affair, though, doing grievous damage to Rosy's reputation. ("There's loose women, there's whores, and then there's British soldiers' whores," says a shopkeeper after refusing to sell Rosy any goods.)
John Mills plays Michael, the town fool, a slack-jawed imbecile with a mouthful of horrid teeth and a limp, a man who sees much, understands little, and takes a lot of abuse at the hands of his fellow townpeople in the name of humor. His performance, though it won the Oscar, is very dated, and a bit embarrassing by modern standards. Drifting well into the realm of caricature, Mills' portrayal is heavy on affectation (overwrought facial expressions and gestures, limping, etc.), and light on substance or subtlety. By modern standards, the role would be more likely today to win a Razzie than an Oscar.
Despite the Oscar win and nomination that the film scored, it was not well-received critically at the time. In fact, that is a rather drastic understatement. Ryan's Daughter was so poorly received by critics in general, and so harshly torn apart by Pauline Kael specifically, that its director, David Lean, went into exile for 14 years before redeeming himself with his final film, 1984's Oscar winning A Passage to India. There seem to be two main criticisms against this film. One is that it is too opulent, that the story is not strong enough to sustain the epic length, and that the film falls back on lush visuals to hold the audience's interest. This may be true, but it is irrelevant. Are these critics new to epic filmmaking? Gone with the Wind was much longer than the story really needed, and it was heavy on lush visuals. So was Lawrence of Arabia. And Ben Hur. And Dances With Wolves. And Titanic. And so on, and so on. It's epic filmmaking, and that, in and of itself, should not be held against the film. I watched the entire duration of the film in a single sitting, and I was never bored with it, even if there were scenes that were not entirely necessary to the plot. The other main criticism against Ryan's Daughter is that it simply is not as good as David Lean's previous films. Again, this may be true, but it is irrelevant. Considering the fact that Lean's previous films included Lawrence of Arabia, The Bridge on the River Kwai, and Dr. Zhivago, to say that Ryan's Daughter is a bad film because it is not as good as his previous work is like saying that a perfectly prepared strip steak is a bad meal because it is not filet mignon. Retrospect has been much kinder to this film than its contemporary critics were, and while it may not be seen as a classic, it is at least not reviled now. But it saddens me to think about what classic films the world may have missed out on, what great masterpieces David Lean may have gone on to direct after this one, if not for the fact that Pauline Kael nitpicked this one to the point of driving its director into exile.
Movie trivia question: A frequent collaborator with David Lean was actor Alec Guinness. For what film, an Oscar winner for Best Original Screenplay, was Guinness given his first Oscar nomination?
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