The first person to win a lead acting Oscar for their debut performance was Shirley Booth, who won Best Actress in 1953 for Come Back, Little Sheba. The film was also nominated for best Supporting Actress (Terry Moore). Other actors and actresses had won supporting performance Oscars for debut performances before this, but this was the first time for a lead. Three other women have since won Best Actress for their debut performances, but to date nobody has won Best Actor for a debut performance.
Booth plays Lola Delaney, a frumpy, unambitious middle aged housewife who rarely leaves the house and endlessly obsesses over her dog, Little Sheba, who disappeared weeks before. She rents a room to Marie (Moore), a young, pretty college student who draws an improper amount of attention from Lola's husband, Doc (Burt Lancaster), a self-conscious chiropractor who wants only to forget or outrun his past. He has a lot to want to forget, too - he dropped out of medical school to marry Lola when she got pregnant, only to have her lose the baby. Then he inherited enough money from the death of his parents to return to medical school, but became an alcoholic, losing the money and most of his patients because of his uncontrollable drinking and fighting. Doc's interest in Marie at first seems to be fatherly, but it eventually develops into temptation in more than one form. He resists the urge to cheat on his wife, an urge driven more by desire to recapture his lost youth than by lust, but he has a disastrous relapse into drinking.
Lancaster is captivating, as he always is, but he seems a bit miscast here. He is wonderful in the role, but his performance seems a bit hampered by his reputation. Lancaster, over his career, has played characters who are tough, confident, successful and self-assured. So as great as he is here, it is a bit of a challenge to accept him as somebody so weak-willed, meek, and lacking in control over his own life. Moore is good, but her character is more a means of driving the plot than as an entity of her own. But Shirley Booth really shines here. Her dotty, intrusive behavior, annoying at first, is gradually revealed to be her defense mechanism. She has suffered the same setbacks as Doc, and has had to be the source of strength to carry her husband through their difficulties. Her refusal to accept that Little Sheba won't return gives her a diversion, something to focus on so she doesn't have to think about her lost youth, her lost prettiness, her lost child.
Movie trivia question: What is the most recent black-and-white film to win the Oscar for Best Picture?
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Multi-talented
The first person to direct himself to a Best Actor Oscar, and the first person to claim both Best Actor and Best Picture, was Laurence Olivier, for his 1948 adaptation of Hamlet. Olivier was also nominated as Best Director for the film, although he did not win, and it was nominated for Best Supporting Actress (Jean Simmons). To date, nobody has managed to win both Best Actor/Actress and Best Director for the same film. Olivier was more successful at Oscar time with this film than he had been two years earlier, with unsuccessful nominations for both Best Picture and Best Actor for Henry V, though he missed the Best Director nomination that year. Henry V did, however, get Olivier an honorary award for the feat of producing, directing and acting. One wonders, though, at the legitimacy of that honorary award, as Orson Welles had, in 1942, managed to get nominations in all three categories without being honored for the feat. And, in case you were wondering, the other person to get both Best Actor and a Best Picture Oscar was Michael Douglas, who won as a producer on One Flew Over the Cuckoo's nest, and a Best Actor statue for his performance in Wall Street.
The problem with so many of the films based on the works of Shakespeare is that they get too caught up in the staginess of the performances, and in the lyricism and poetry of the words being spoken, to the point that the story itself is pretty much forgotten. The most frequent victim of this unfortunate tendency is Hamlet. How familiar is the "To be, or not to be speech," delivered in a thundering, bombastic, triumphant tone. "TO BE... (dramatic pause) OR... NOT TO BE!!!" The speech is delivered so often in that tone, as though the actors don't even notice the meaning behind the words they are saying. This is not the speech of a conquering hero, as it is so often delivered. It is the mumbled ramblings of a sullen, angst-ridden youth, trying to decide whether he should kill himself rather than try to deal with the problems of his life. It is a speech to be muttered uncertainly, not thundered confidently. Olivier, for one, actually manages to get it right. Unlike so many before him, and unlike so many that came after, Olivier actually sees the source material as a story to be told, not just as a vehicle by which an actor can prove his greatness by reciting a famous speech or two.
This film truly is the best of both worlds, as Shakespeare goes. Olivier does not ignore the poetry of the words, he just doesn't let it override their meaning or overshadow the story that they tell. He doesn't dumb down the screenplay, or feel the need to update it to modern English just to make it more palatable to a more modern audience. He doesn't, as so many have done, feel the need to transplant the basic framework of the story into a more modern setting. In short, Olivier does not feel the need to rewrite Shakespeare. Shakespeare is Shakespeare for a reason. All things considered, if I had to pick a single film version of Shakespeare to watch, this would be the one.
That being said, I must admit that this film would not have been my pick to win either of its awards. Hamlet beat out The Treasure of the Sierra Madre for Best Picture, and Humphrey Bogart's wonderful performance in that film somehow failed to even get nominated alongside Olivier's. But, of course, that is just quibbling, and, as you are probably already guessing after my last review, I am a bit biased where Bogart is concerned. Certainly, that is just a matter of personal preference, not of unworthiness on the part of Olivier's film.
Movie trivia question: This film, winner of an Oscar for Best Screenplay, scored Best Actor nominations for its two stars. Coincidentally, the two went on to be the two actors with the most Oscar nominations to never actually win the statue. Who were the stars, and what was the film?
The problem with so many of the films based on the works of Shakespeare is that they get too caught up in the staginess of the performances, and in the lyricism and poetry of the words being spoken, to the point that the story itself is pretty much forgotten. The most frequent victim of this unfortunate tendency is Hamlet. How familiar is the "To be, or not to be speech," delivered in a thundering, bombastic, triumphant tone. "TO BE... (dramatic pause) OR... NOT TO BE!!!" The speech is delivered so often in that tone, as though the actors don't even notice the meaning behind the words they are saying. This is not the speech of a conquering hero, as it is so often delivered. It is the mumbled ramblings of a sullen, angst-ridden youth, trying to decide whether he should kill himself rather than try to deal with the problems of his life. It is a speech to be muttered uncertainly, not thundered confidently. Olivier, for one, actually manages to get it right. Unlike so many before him, and unlike so many that came after, Olivier actually sees the source material as a story to be told, not just as a vehicle by which an actor can prove his greatness by reciting a famous speech or two.
This film truly is the best of both worlds, as Shakespeare goes. Olivier does not ignore the poetry of the words, he just doesn't let it override their meaning or overshadow the story that they tell. He doesn't dumb down the screenplay, or feel the need to update it to modern English just to make it more palatable to a more modern audience. He doesn't, as so many have done, feel the need to transplant the basic framework of the story into a more modern setting. In short, Olivier does not feel the need to rewrite Shakespeare. Shakespeare is Shakespeare for a reason. All things considered, if I had to pick a single film version of Shakespeare to watch, this would be the one.
That being said, I must admit that this film would not have been my pick to win either of its awards. Hamlet beat out The Treasure of the Sierra Madre for Best Picture, and Humphrey Bogart's wonderful performance in that film somehow failed to even get nominated alongside Olivier's. But, of course, that is just quibbling, and, as you are probably already guessing after my last review, I am a bit biased where Bogart is concerned. Certainly, that is just a matter of personal preference, not of unworthiness on the part of Olivier's film.
Movie trivia question: This film, winner of an Oscar for Best Screenplay, scored Best Actor nominations for its two stars. Coincidentally, the two went on to be the two actors with the most Oscar nominations to never actually win the statue. Who were the stars, and what was the film?
Friday, April 9, 2010
Who stole Bogie's Oscar?
Taking the Oscar for Best Actor in 1944, and leaving Humphrey Bogart empty-handed for one of the greatest film performances of all time, was Paul Lukas for Watch on the Rhine. The film was also nominated for Best Picture, Best Supporting Actress (Lucile Watson), and Best Adapted Screenplay (Dashiell Hammett).
In the opening days of World War II, just before Germany begins to take over its neighboring countries, an American woman, Sara (Bette Davis) returns to Washington DC after 18 years of living in Europe, bringing her family with her. Her family includes her German husband, Kurt (Paul Lukas) a former engineer who has spent the last several years working for an underground anti-Nazi movement, exposing his family to poverty, danger, and a nomadic lifestyle. As Kurt is getting older and his health is flagging, the trip to America is meant to be his retirement from the movement. Unfortunately, a Romanian count, a houseguest of Sara's mother with heavy debts due to his habit of gambling away money he can't afford at Nazi card games at the German Embassy, discovers Kurt's identity and decides to blackmail him.
Many of the performances in this film struck me as kind of strange. The dialogue is oddly formal, and the delivery of the lines from many of the characters is stiff and uncertain. In a weird way, this makes the performances of Sara's children more convincing - they are children speaking in a language that is not their native tongue, and they were very convincing as such. What was odd was that Sara's brother, an American speaking in English, seemed just as stiff and formal to me, and so his performance struck me as very unnatural. Lucile Watson, Oscar nominated for her role as Sara's mother, is very convincing and entertaining as the intrusive, obnoxious, but well-intentioned matriarch. Bette Davis, the big name star of the film, was cast against type in a way that doesn't entirely work for her.
But, of course, the performance with which I concerned myself in watching this film was that of Paul Lukas. Lukas does indeed give a strong performance here. He does a fantastic job of drawing the audience in, getting them to care about his character and his story. The bottom line, though, is this: does he deliver a strong enough performance to deserve the Oscar over Bogart's iconic turn in Casablanca? The answer, in my opinion, is no. Lukas was very good, and worth seeing here, but time has shown that Bogart's role has remained unforgettable through several generations, while most people have probably never even heard of Paul Lukas. It is, however, easy to understand why Lukas would have taken the award at the time. In the midst of World War II, with the outcome still uncertain and American patriotism and anti-Nazi sentiment at an all-time high, Lukas and Bogart play men who essentially make the opposite decisions in the same circumstances. Lukas plays a man who, as the Nazis begin to come to power, sacrifices everything in his life to devote himself to taking up the cause of fighting them. Bogart plays a man who, as the Nazis begin to come to power, does everything he can to distance himself from the fight, to refuse to take sides, and to look out for himself alone. In hindsight, it is easy to see that Bogie should have taken it, but it is also easy to see why, in the heat of the moment, the emotional response was to award it to Lukas.
Movie trivia question: This film marked the first time that an actor directed himself to a Best Actor Oscar. It also marked the first time that a person won Oscars for both Best Actor and as producer for Best Picture (a feat that has only been repeated one other time to date). Who is the actor/director/producer, and what is the film?
In the opening days of World War II, just before Germany begins to take over its neighboring countries, an American woman, Sara (Bette Davis) returns to Washington DC after 18 years of living in Europe, bringing her family with her. Her family includes her German husband, Kurt (Paul Lukas) a former engineer who has spent the last several years working for an underground anti-Nazi movement, exposing his family to poverty, danger, and a nomadic lifestyle. As Kurt is getting older and his health is flagging, the trip to America is meant to be his retirement from the movement. Unfortunately, a Romanian count, a houseguest of Sara's mother with heavy debts due to his habit of gambling away money he can't afford at Nazi card games at the German Embassy, discovers Kurt's identity and decides to blackmail him.
Many of the performances in this film struck me as kind of strange. The dialogue is oddly formal, and the delivery of the lines from many of the characters is stiff and uncertain. In a weird way, this makes the performances of Sara's children more convincing - they are children speaking in a language that is not their native tongue, and they were very convincing as such. What was odd was that Sara's brother, an American speaking in English, seemed just as stiff and formal to me, and so his performance struck me as very unnatural. Lucile Watson, Oscar nominated for her role as Sara's mother, is very convincing and entertaining as the intrusive, obnoxious, but well-intentioned matriarch. Bette Davis, the big name star of the film, was cast against type in a way that doesn't entirely work for her.
But, of course, the performance with which I concerned myself in watching this film was that of Paul Lukas. Lukas does indeed give a strong performance here. He does a fantastic job of drawing the audience in, getting them to care about his character and his story. The bottom line, though, is this: does he deliver a strong enough performance to deserve the Oscar over Bogart's iconic turn in Casablanca? The answer, in my opinion, is no. Lukas was very good, and worth seeing here, but time has shown that Bogart's role has remained unforgettable through several generations, while most people have probably never even heard of Paul Lukas. It is, however, easy to understand why Lukas would have taken the award at the time. In the midst of World War II, with the outcome still uncertain and American patriotism and anti-Nazi sentiment at an all-time high, Lukas and Bogart play men who essentially make the opposite decisions in the same circumstances. Lukas plays a man who, as the Nazis begin to come to power, sacrifices everything in his life to devote himself to taking up the cause of fighting them. Bogart plays a man who, as the Nazis begin to come to power, does everything he can to distance himself from the fight, to refuse to take sides, and to look out for himself alone. In hindsight, it is easy to see that Bogie should have taken it, but it is also easy to see why, in the heat of the moment, the emotional response was to award it to Lukas.
Movie trivia question: This film marked the first time that an actor directed himself to a Best Actor Oscar. It also marked the first time that a person won Oscars for both Best Actor and as producer for Best Picture (a feat that has only been repeated one other time to date). Who is the actor/director/producer, and what is the film?
Short, but strong
The only short film to win in a non-short-film category is French film The Red Balloon, winner of the 1957 award for Best Original Screenplay.
A young boy, wandering alone through the streets of Paris, finds and befriends a red balloon, and he and it follow each other through various misadventures. The boy misses his bus to school because the driver will not allow him on the vehicle with the balloon. But soon, the balloon proves itself capable of following the boy on its own volition. The boy, apparently friendless, suffers many setbacks, as he gets into trouble for bringing the balloon to school, and finds himself harassed at the hands of a mob of schoolmates seeking to steal or destroy the toy.
The dialogue is minimal, with only a few spoken lines, most of which are the boy talking to the balloon, and the runtime of the film barely clears the 30 minute mark, but I came out of the movie feeling like I knew the boy better than most characters who spend two hours on the screen talking and interacting with others. Hell, even the balloon was a more developed character than some that I have seen. Empathetic, cute, and family-friendly, this would be a great choice to watch with young children.
Movie trivia question: As I mentioned in a previous post, Oscar nominees for best lead performance tend to go to actors and actresses who have already established themselves within their profession. There have been a few notable exceptions, though. What was the first role to win an Oscar for best lead performance for and actor/actress in his/her debut film acting performance?
A young boy, wandering alone through the streets of Paris, finds and befriends a red balloon, and he and it follow each other through various misadventures. The boy misses his bus to school because the driver will not allow him on the vehicle with the balloon. But soon, the balloon proves itself capable of following the boy on its own volition. The boy, apparently friendless, suffers many setbacks, as he gets into trouble for bringing the balloon to school, and finds himself harassed at the hands of a mob of schoolmates seeking to steal or destroy the toy.
The dialogue is minimal, with only a few spoken lines, most of which are the boy talking to the balloon, and the runtime of the film barely clears the 30 minute mark, but I came out of the movie feeling like I knew the boy better than most characters who spend two hours on the screen talking and interacting with others. Hell, even the balloon was a more developed character than some that I have seen. Empathetic, cute, and family-friendly, this would be a great choice to watch with young children.
Movie trivia question: As I mentioned in a previous post, Oscar nominees for best lead performance tend to go to actors and actresses who have already established themselves within their profession. There have been a few notable exceptions, though. What was the first role to win an Oscar for best lead performance for and actor/actress in his/her debut film acting performance?
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Bellamy and Ameche
The Oscar winner featuring Don Ameche from 1937 was In Old Chicago, which won the award for Best Supporting Actress (Alice Brady), and was nominated for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay. Ameche himself was not nominated for the film, but don't feel too bad, as he eventually went on to win the award for Best Supporting Actor in 1986 for Cocoon. Feel bad for Alice Brady, however. She missed her winning moment at the Oscar ceremony, providing an opportunity for an unknown man to somehow get on stage and accept the award on her behalf. The man's identity was never discovered, and the Oscar statue was never seen again.
Brady won her Oscar for playing Molly O'Leary, the owner of the cow that supposedly started the great Chicago fire of 1871. In the days leading up to the tragedy, O'Leary's sons find themselves political rivals, Jack running for mayor and pledging to clean up the city's corruption, while Dion is a master of dirty backroom deals. Elected as mayor, the virtuous brother, of course, works to reform the unsuitable waterways and rebuild the firetrap slums of the city, while the manipulative brother schemes to prevent the rebuilding. The fight delays the needed reforms long enough to allow the tragic fire to occur.
The film cost $1.8 million to make, one of the most expensive films ever made at the time. The fire that made up the climactic scene blazed for three days of filming. So, although it was a follow-up to the previous year's San Francisco, which chronicled the earthquake that almost destroyed that city in 1906, In Old Chicago was, in a way, decades ahead of its time, clearly an inspiration to the disaster movie trend of the 1970s (though the later films were, for the most part, not nearly as respected, more of a guilty pleasure for audiences and an opportunity for the stars to slum it a bit and grab a big paycheck). It was also, however, clearly a film of its own time, packed with 1930s film staples such as unnecessary musical numbers and "comical" stutterers. The writing was hackneyed and predictable, with lots of references throughout the film to fire, as a clumsy way of foreshadowing the climactic event. The story was ridiculously melodramatic, with the evil Dion mostly acting evil for the sake of being evil, and the virtuous Jack refusing to accept payment for the first case that he wins as a lawyer because he's just so gosh-darn gee-whiz excited about winning that that is reward enough in itself.. Even Alice Brady's Oscar-winning performance, while not bad, was not particularly memorable. The special effects paid of, given the limitations of the time, as the big fire did look like an entire city burning to the ground. But, other than that, there is not much to recommend about this film.
Movie trivia question: What Oscar-winner for Best Screenplay has the distinction of being the only short film to ever win an Oscar outside of the short films categories? The answer is my next review.
Brady won her Oscar for playing Molly O'Leary, the owner of the cow that supposedly started the great Chicago fire of 1871. In the days leading up to the tragedy, O'Leary's sons find themselves political rivals, Jack running for mayor and pledging to clean up the city's corruption, while Dion is a master of dirty backroom deals. Elected as mayor, the virtuous brother, of course, works to reform the unsuitable waterways and rebuild the firetrap slums of the city, while the manipulative brother schemes to prevent the rebuilding. The fight delays the needed reforms long enough to allow the tragic fire to occur.
The film cost $1.8 million to make, one of the most expensive films ever made at the time. The fire that made up the climactic scene blazed for three days of filming. So, although it was a follow-up to the previous year's San Francisco, which chronicled the earthquake that almost destroyed that city in 1906, In Old Chicago was, in a way, decades ahead of its time, clearly an inspiration to the disaster movie trend of the 1970s (though the later films were, for the most part, not nearly as respected, more of a guilty pleasure for audiences and an opportunity for the stars to slum it a bit and grab a big paycheck). It was also, however, clearly a film of its own time, packed with 1930s film staples such as unnecessary musical numbers and "comical" stutterers. The writing was hackneyed and predictable, with lots of references throughout the film to fire, as a clumsy way of foreshadowing the climactic event. The story was ridiculously melodramatic, with the evil Dion mostly acting evil for the sake of being evil, and the virtuous Jack refusing to accept payment for the first case that he wins as a lawyer because he's just so gosh-darn gee-whiz excited about winning that that is reward enough in itself.. Even Alice Brady's Oscar-winning performance, while not bad, was not particularly memorable. The special effects paid of, given the limitations of the time, as the big fire did look like an entire city burning to the ground. But, other than that, there is not much to recommend about this film.
Movie trivia question: What Oscar-winner for Best Screenplay has the distinction of being the only short film to ever win an Oscar outside of the short films categories? The answer is my next review.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Awful Truth (1937)
Winner of the 1938 Oscar for Best Director (Leo McCarey), nominated for Best Picture, Best Actress (Irene Dunne), Best Supporting Actor (Ralph Bellamy), and Best Adapted Screenplay.
With each catching the other in a mistruth that suggests infidelity, the Warriners decide to divorce. Given ninety days before the divorce is finalized, Mrs. Warriner (played by Irene Dunne, in a performance that is far and away better than her nominated performance six years earlier for Cimarron) begins to seek a new romance, receiving a proposal from a wealthy new beau (Bellamy) before the separation is even official. Mr. Warriner goes to great lengths to disrupt this new romance, and the race is on for the divorcing couple to figure out that they still love each other before it is too late.
Yes, it's pretty much a standard romantic-comedy plot - couple who are obviously meant for each other are kept apart by silly misunderstandings until love conquers all - but bear in mind that this film was made before the cliches became cliches. In fact, this movie works so well, it is clear to see that it is, in fact, the reason that those cliches became cliches. So, though the genre has now been done to death, at the time, this film had originality on its side.
It also, even now, has perfection on its side. The balance of slapstick gags and subtle barbs simply could not have been done any better. The writing was absolutely flawless, with the two leads being thoroughly ruthless with one another while never crossing the line into being unlikable. The film is an impressive feat of direction, writing, and performance, as the slightest misstep in any of these would have made the whole thing fall apart. Surprising then, that the film didn't get more wins, and that Cary Grant wasn't even nominated for his role as Mr Warriner, as I thought his performance was the best in the film. Admittedly, the ending of the film could have been a bit more conclusive - the truth behind the spouses' respective misunderstandings is never fully revealed, and it is implied, but not expressly stated, that the two leads return to one another, rather than to their new fiancees - but this is well worth seeing if for no other reason than to see what the romantic comedy genre was like before it became that dead horse that Hollywood continues to beat today.
Movie trivia question: Ralph Bellamy, nominated for Best Supporting Actor for this film, was hilariously paired with Don Ameche in the 1980s for the film Trading Places, and again for a brief cameo in Coming to America. In the same year as The Awful Truth, Ameche also starred in an Oscar winning film. What was that film? Answer coming later today, possibly.
With each catching the other in a mistruth that suggests infidelity, the Warriners decide to divorce. Given ninety days before the divorce is finalized, Mrs. Warriner (played by Irene Dunne, in a performance that is far and away better than her nominated performance six years earlier for Cimarron) begins to seek a new romance, receiving a proposal from a wealthy new beau (Bellamy) before the separation is even official. Mr. Warriner goes to great lengths to disrupt this new romance, and the race is on for the divorcing couple to figure out that they still love each other before it is too late.
Yes, it's pretty much a standard romantic-comedy plot - couple who are obviously meant for each other are kept apart by silly misunderstandings until love conquers all - but bear in mind that this film was made before the cliches became cliches. In fact, this movie works so well, it is clear to see that it is, in fact, the reason that those cliches became cliches. So, though the genre has now been done to death, at the time, this film had originality on its side.
It also, even now, has perfection on its side. The balance of slapstick gags and subtle barbs simply could not have been done any better. The writing was absolutely flawless, with the two leads being thoroughly ruthless with one another while never crossing the line into being unlikable. The film is an impressive feat of direction, writing, and performance, as the slightest misstep in any of these would have made the whole thing fall apart. Surprising then, that the film didn't get more wins, and that Cary Grant wasn't even nominated for his role as Mr Warriner, as I thought his performance was the best in the film. Admittedly, the ending of the film could have been a bit more conclusive - the truth behind the spouses' respective misunderstandings is never fully revealed, and it is implied, but not expressly stated, that the two leads return to one another, rather than to their new fiancees - but this is well worth seeing if for no other reason than to see what the romantic comedy genre was like before it became that dead horse that Hollywood continues to beat today.
Movie trivia question: Ralph Bellamy, nominated for Best Supporting Actor for this film, was hilariously paired with Don Ameche in the 1980s for the film Trading Places, and again for a brief cameo in Coming to America. In the same year as The Awful Truth, Ameche also starred in an Oscar winning film. What was that film? Answer coming later today, possibly.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Mister Roberts (1955)
Winner for Best Supporting Actor (Jack Lemmon), nominated for Best Picture.
You would think that the Best Supporting acting categories would be a bigger career boost. Not so much with the lead acting categories, as the roles that get nominated there tend to go to more experienced, established actors, but supporting roles should be where new careers are made. But, for whatever reason, a Best Supporting Actor/Actress win doesn't tend to launch a great new career. Sometimes it is because the award goes to an already established actor, but even when the award does go to a newcomer, it seems like most of the time there isn't much of a follow-up. The award is their highlight, and it all goes downhill from there. This film is a notable exception. The winner, Jack Lemmon, was an unknown actor at the time (he had only been in two previous films, both in minor roles), and from here he went on to get 7 subsequent Best Actor nominations (winning for one, Save The Tiger), and to become a legend, one of Hollywood's most respected actors. (The only other supporting actor win that comes close to this record is Robert DeNiro's win for The Godfather, Part II. DeNiro could be argued to be more popular and respected now than Lemmon, but DeNiro, to date, has only 5 Best Actor nominations and 1 win.)
Of course, the Oscar didn't make Lemmon's career. The award was just a sign of the strength of his performance, and the performance was an indicator of the talent and potential that he held. Lemmon gave a truly career-making performance in Mister Roberts. He stole every scene he was in, and was truly a stand-out in the cast. What is really amazing is that this newcomer managed to be such a stand-out against this cast, against such legends as Henry Fonda, James Cagney, and William Powell.
Mister Roberts tells the story of a US Navy cargo ship, stuck in the backwaters of the Pacific in the closing days of World War II. Anchored 5000 miles from the nearest action, the crew stagnates and shirks their duties, bored with the task of loading and unloading supplies and missing out on all of the glory of war. The titular character, played by Henry Fonda, is the lieutenant of the ship, acting as the go-between for the under-stimulated crew and their tyrannical captain while writing weekly letters attempting to get transferred to a more exciting, worthwhile post. The captain, played by Cagney, is harsh and arbitrary, calling down disciplinary actions for the most insignificant breaches of protocol while riding to success on the hard work of his lieutenant. Lemmon plays Ensign Pulver, a brash, libidinous, but ultimately cowardly young officer who dreams and schemes his big plans while doing everything he can to avoid any work or conflict.
Lemmon created a unique niche for himself through his roles. He had an image that projected dignity in the most demeaning circumstances, that commanded respect even while he was being meek or self-deprecating, that reflected morality and decency even when his characters were committing acts that were entirely socially unacceptable. All of this can be seen in the character of Ensign Pulver. In fact, while I certainly don't mean to suggest that Jack Lemmon was a one-note player who made an entire career out of playing the same character repeatedly, but everything that was great and memorable about Lemmon as an actor can be seen in this role.
Movie trivia question: As evidence that Oscar doesn't always award the most iconic nominee, Humphrey Bogart failed to capture the statue for his performance in Casablanca, one of the most memorable film performances of all time. Who did take the Best Actor award for that year? Answer coming soon.
You would think that the Best Supporting acting categories would be a bigger career boost. Not so much with the lead acting categories, as the roles that get nominated there tend to go to more experienced, established actors, but supporting roles should be where new careers are made. But, for whatever reason, a Best Supporting Actor/Actress win doesn't tend to launch a great new career. Sometimes it is because the award goes to an already established actor, but even when the award does go to a newcomer, it seems like most of the time there isn't much of a follow-up. The award is their highlight, and it all goes downhill from there. This film is a notable exception. The winner, Jack Lemmon, was an unknown actor at the time (he had only been in two previous films, both in minor roles), and from here he went on to get 7 subsequent Best Actor nominations (winning for one, Save The Tiger), and to become a legend, one of Hollywood's most respected actors. (The only other supporting actor win that comes close to this record is Robert DeNiro's win for The Godfather, Part II. DeNiro could be argued to be more popular and respected now than Lemmon, but DeNiro, to date, has only 5 Best Actor nominations and 1 win.)
Of course, the Oscar didn't make Lemmon's career. The award was just a sign of the strength of his performance, and the performance was an indicator of the talent and potential that he held. Lemmon gave a truly career-making performance in Mister Roberts. He stole every scene he was in, and was truly a stand-out in the cast. What is really amazing is that this newcomer managed to be such a stand-out against this cast, against such legends as Henry Fonda, James Cagney, and William Powell.
Mister Roberts tells the story of a US Navy cargo ship, stuck in the backwaters of the Pacific in the closing days of World War II. Anchored 5000 miles from the nearest action, the crew stagnates and shirks their duties, bored with the task of loading and unloading supplies and missing out on all of the glory of war. The titular character, played by Henry Fonda, is the lieutenant of the ship, acting as the go-between for the under-stimulated crew and their tyrannical captain while writing weekly letters attempting to get transferred to a more exciting, worthwhile post. The captain, played by Cagney, is harsh and arbitrary, calling down disciplinary actions for the most insignificant breaches of protocol while riding to success on the hard work of his lieutenant. Lemmon plays Ensign Pulver, a brash, libidinous, but ultimately cowardly young officer who dreams and schemes his big plans while doing everything he can to avoid any work or conflict.
Lemmon created a unique niche for himself through his roles. He had an image that projected dignity in the most demeaning circumstances, that commanded respect even while he was being meek or self-deprecating, that reflected morality and decency even when his characters were committing acts that were entirely socially unacceptable. All of this can be seen in the character of Ensign Pulver. In fact, while I certainly don't mean to suggest that Jack Lemmon was a one-note player who made an entire career out of playing the same character repeatedly, but everything that was great and memorable about Lemmon as an actor can be seen in this role.
Movie trivia question: As evidence that Oscar doesn't always award the most iconic nominee, Humphrey Bogart failed to capture the statue for his performance in Casablanca, one of the most memorable film performances of all time. Who did take the Best Actor award for that year? Answer coming soon.
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