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?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The beginning of a beautiful friendship
The first film to pair up Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon, and the one that got Matthau his Oscar, was 1966's The Fortune Cookie. (But at what cost? Matthau suffered a heart attack in the middle of filming. Production stopped while he recovered, and he is visibly underweight in the scenes that were filmed after his return. Oddly, this was director Billy Wilder's second consecutive film which had to stop mid-filming due to his lead actor suffering a heart attack.) The film was also nominated for Best Original Screenplay (Billy Wilder).
Jack Lemmon plays Harry Hinkle, a CBS cameraman who is accidentally tackled by a player while working the sidelines at a football game. Matthau plays Willie Gingrich, Hinkle's brother-in-law, a shady lawyer who convinces Hinkle to fake an injury in order to turn the incident into a million dollar lawsuit. Hinkle is reluctant at first, is won over to the plan by the belief that he might regain the affections of his ex-wife, but his determination wavers when he sees the toll that guilt is taking on Boom Boom Jackson (Ron Rich), the player who tackled him.
I am usually a big fan of both Wilder and Lemmon, and Matthau has never really done me wrong, but somehow this film just didn't click with me. Matthau was very good here, certainly deserving of the Academy's recognition, especially considering the difficulties that he went through during filming. The story just didn't do it for me, though. Given the talent involved, it just fell below expectations. As a comedy, it just didn't have many laughs. As a con-game, it was predictable. As a satire, it lacked punch. As a drama, it lacked a real emotional connection to the characters. It's not that this was a bad film. It had some laughs and some good moments. It just wasn't a great film. But given the talent involved, given the greatness of the collaborations between Lemmon and Wilder previously, and the great partnership between Lemmon and Matthau afterward, this film being anything less than great is a bit of a disappointment.
Movie trivia question: In the history of the Oscars, five people have won the statue for non-speaking roles. Only one of those was a male. Who is the only male to win an Oscar for a non-speaking role?
Jack Lemmon plays Harry Hinkle, a CBS cameraman who is accidentally tackled by a player while working the sidelines at a football game. Matthau plays Willie Gingrich, Hinkle's brother-in-law, a shady lawyer who convinces Hinkle to fake an injury in order to turn the incident into a million dollar lawsuit. Hinkle is reluctant at first, is won over to the plan by the belief that he might regain the affections of his ex-wife, but his determination wavers when he sees the toll that guilt is taking on Boom Boom Jackson (Ron Rich), the player who tackled him.
I am usually a big fan of both Wilder and Lemmon, and Matthau has never really done me wrong, but somehow this film just didn't click with me. Matthau was very good here, certainly deserving of the Academy's recognition, especially considering the difficulties that he went through during filming. The story just didn't do it for me, though. Given the talent involved, it just fell below expectations. As a comedy, it just didn't have many laughs. As a con-game, it was predictable. As a satire, it lacked punch. As a drama, it lacked a real emotional connection to the characters. It's not that this was a bad film. It had some laughs and some good moments. It just wasn't a great film. But given the talent involved, given the greatness of the collaborations between Lemmon and Wilder previously, and the great partnership between Lemmon and Matthau afterward, this film being anything less than great is a bit of a disappointment.
Movie trivia question: In the history of the Oscars, five people have won the statue for non-speaking roles. Only one of those was a male. Who is the only male to win an Oscar for a non-speaking role?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Oscar Tie, Part 2
The other (and please, feel free to read that as lesser) Best Actress of 1969 was Barbra Streisand, who won the award for her debut film performance in Funny Girl. (She later went on to become the only person to date to win Oscars for an acting performance and Best Song.) The film was also nominated for Best Picture and Best Supporting Actress (Kay Nedford).
Streisand plays Fannie Brice, a poor girl from the Jewish slums of 1920s New York who rises to stardom as a vaudeville comedienne, but struggles to hold together her personal life, as her husband bristles at the idea that his wife finds greater success than he does. It's essentially a retelling of A Star is Born, made that much less necessary by the fact that, a few years later, Streisand starred in a direct remake of A Star is Born.
I have to wonder how the Academy voters could possibly have felt that this performance was the equal of that given by Katharine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter. Hepburn's performance was brilliant, a masterful balance of funny and heartbreaking, of sympathetic and coldly manipulative. Streisand, as Fannie Brice, had a few funny lines, but was mostly just annoying and obnoxious. She relies a bit too heavily on silly voices for her comedy here, and her drama relies too heavily on her ability to cry and sing at the same time. The story is one that has been told a million times before. As such, it depends on a unique, winning performance from its star in order to separate itself from the others. This film, in my opinion, simply does not have that distinctive performance. I suppose, if you're a fan of Streisand's singing career, the songs are good. I'm not a fan of her singing, so they didn't really do much for me. In short, this film is really just a star-making vehicle for Streisand, so if you are not a fan of Streisand, there is not much reason to watch it. Two and a half hours long, and I sat through it with no real enjoyment or emotional involvement. The things I sometimes do for you, my faithful readers!
Movie trivia question: Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau were a classic comedy pairing. They starred in 8 movies together (not including cameos together and a film in which Lemmon directed Matthau to a Best Actor nomination). Their first pairing, one of their lesser-known films, captured a best Supporting Actor Oscar for Matthau. What was the film?
Streisand plays Fannie Brice, a poor girl from the Jewish slums of 1920s New York who rises to stardom as a vaudeville comedienne, but struggles to hold together her personal life, as her husband bristles at the idea that his wife finds greater success than he does. It's essentially a retelling of A Star is Born, made that much less necessary by the fact that, a few years later, Streisand starred in a direct remake of A Star is Born.
I have to wonder how the Academy voters could possibly have felt that this performance was the equal of that given by Katharine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter. Hepburn's performance was brilliant, a masterful balance of funny and heartbreaking, of sympathetic and coldly manipulative. Streisand, as Fannie Brice, had a few funny lines, but was mostly just annoying and obnoxious. She relies a bit too heavily on silly voices for her comedy here, and her drama relies too heavily on her ability to cry and sing at the same time. The story is one that has been told a million times before. As such, it depends on a unique, winning performance from its star in order to separate itself from the others. This film, in my opinion, simply does not have that distinctive performance. I suppose, if you're a fan of Streisand's singing career, the songs are good. I'm not a fan of her singing, so they didn't really do much for me. In short, this film is really just a star-making vehicle for Streisand, so if you are not a fan of Streisand, there is not much reason to watch it. Two and a half hours long, and I sat through it with no real enjoyment or emotional involvement. The things I sometimes do for you, my faithful readers!
Movie trivia question: Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau were a classic comedy pairing. They starred in 8 movies together (not including cameos together and a film in which Lemmon directed Matthau to a Best Actor nomination). Their first pairing, one of their lesser-known films, captured a best Supporting Actor Oscar for Matthau. What was the film?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Oscar Tie, Part 1
At the 1969 Oscar ceremony, there was a tie for the Best Actress category, the only true tie in Oscar history. (At the 1933 awards, the Best Actor category was credited as a tie, but only because of a technicality. Frederick March actually won the award by 1 vote over Wallace Beery, but the rules at the time stated that a win by less than 3 votes would be considered a tie. The rules have since been changed so that only an exact tie will result in awards going to multiple winners.) One of those winners, Katharine Hepburn, also made a record that year for most lead performer Oscar wins, taking home her third Oscar for her performance in The Lion in Winter. (She still holds the record today, having increased her count to 4 Best Actress Oscars when she took home the statue for On Golden Pond.) The Lion in Winter also won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay (James Goldman), and was nominated for Best Picture, Best Director (Anthony Harvey), and Best Actor (Peter O'Toole, in his second time being nominated for playing the same character, King Henry II, the first being for Becket, which I reviewed a couple of weeks ago).
The Lion in Winter tells the story of King Henry II's attempt to choose a successor to his throne from among his three sons. The power struggle amongst this most dysfunctional of families makes this film like a strange combination of King Lear and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. Reunited for Christmas of 1183, England's royal family engage in lies, manipulations, and wars of words as each attempts to grab all of the power that they can get. Hepburn plays Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry's Queen, and his prisoner for 10 years, trying to pull the strings in order to arrange her own freedom, and needling her husband in every way possible. She is trying to get Henry to name her favored son, Richard (Anthony Hopkins, in his debut performance) as heir to the throne. Richard is a war-mongering general, a conquering hero with the strength to hold the kingdom together. Henry favors his youngest son, John (Nigel Terry), a weak, foolish puppet, not really fit for the throne, but favored by the King as the only son he has had a hand in raising. Middle son Geoffrey (John Castle) favors himself for the throne, manipulating his brothers in an attempt to get them to disqualify themselves from the throne or destroy each other, leaving himself to pick up the pieces. Adding fuel to the family's fire is the visiting King Philip of France (future James Bond Timothy Dalton, in his debut performance), trying to shatter the British Empire so he can sweep in to conquer it for France.
The performances are absolutely peerless. Hepburn astounds with her ability to earn sympathy despite her evil manipulations and her cutting sarcasm. ("Every family has it's ups and downs," she says to herself following an argument with her husband in which she suggests that she had a sexual relationship with his father.) O'Toole delivers a much richer performance this time around as King Henry II, capturing the same character as in his previous portrayal, but revealing many more layers of the character's personality than in the previous film. Hopkins, in his first major role, left no doubt that he had an amazing career ahead of him.
Goldman's award-winning screenplay is brilliant, managing to carefully balance the complex schemes and manipulations of six different characters while maximizing each character's potential for both pathos and dark humor. Once again, I find myself surprised at just how absorbed I am by a period piece about a historical era in which I don't have any particular interest or knowledge. Some might complain that there is not much action in this film, but drama doesn't get much better than this.
Movie trivia question: Part 2 of this review's question. With whom did Kate Hepburn tie for the 1969 Best Actress Oscar, and for what film?
The Lion in Winter tells the story of King Henry II's attempt to choose a successor to his throne from among his three sons. The power struggle amongst this most dysfunctional of families makes this film like a strange combination of King Lear and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. Reunited for Christmas of 1183, England's royal family engage in lies, manipulations, and wars of words as each attempts to grab all of the power that they can get. Hepburn plays Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry's Queen, and his prisoner for 10 years, trying to pull the strings in order to arrange her own freedom, and needling her husband in every way possible. She is trying to get Henry to name her favored son, Richard (Anthony Hopkins, in his debut performance) as heir to the throne. Richard is a war-mongering general, a conquering hero with the strength to hold the kingdom together. Henry favors his youngest son, John (Nigel Terry), a weak, foolish puppet, not really fit for the throne, but favored by the King as the only son he has had a hand in raising. Middle son Geoffrey (John Castle) favors himself for the throne, manipulating his brothers in an attempt to get them to disqualify themselves from the throne or destroy each other, leaving himself to pick up the pieces. Adding fuel to the family's fire is the visiting King Philip of France (future James Bond Timothy Dalton, in his debut performance), trying to shatter the British Empire so he can sweep in to conquer it for France.
The performances are absolutely peerless. Hepburn astounds with her ability to earn sympathy despite her evil manipulations and her cutting sarcasm. ("Every family has it's ups and downs," she says to herself following an argument with her husband in which she suggests that she had a sexual relationship with his father.) O'Toole delivers a much richer performance this time around as King Henry II, capturing the same character as in his previous portrayal, but revealing many more layers of the character's personality than in the previous film. Hopkins, in his first major role, left no doubt that he had an amazing career ahead of him.
Goldman's award-winning screenplay is brilliant, managing to carefully balance the complex schemes and manipulations of six different characters while maximizing each character's potential for both pathos and dark humor. Once again, I find myself surprised at just how absorbed I am by a period piece about a historical era in which I don't have any particular interest or knowledge. Some might complain that there is not much action in this film, but drama doesn't get much better than this.
Movie trivia question: Part 2 of this review's question. With whom did Kate Hepburn tie for the 1969 Best Actress Oscar, and for what film?
Monday, May 10, 2010
Fargo (1996)
Winner for Best Actress (Frances McDormand), Best Original Screenplay. Nominated for Best Picture, Best Director (Joel Coen), and Best Supporting Actor (William H. Macy).
A man makes a mistake. He makes a bad plan, and it backfires on him. He tells a lie to cover up his mistake. The lie is about to be discovered, so he comes up with another plan, makes another mistake, bigger than the one before. He tells another lie, comes up with another plan to cover his tracks, and so on. In a way, it is easy to see how Jerry Lundegaard (Macy) got in so far over his head in this film. I imagine that Lundegaard's original sin was fairly minor, but that is far behind him by the time the viewer meets him. When we meet Jerry, he is arranging the kidnapping of his wife in order to collect the bulk of the million dollar ransom for himself, paying the kidnappers a paltry $40,000 and a stolen car. He is arranging this, in part, in order to pay off over $300,000 in fraudulent financing monies for cars that don't actually exist. Where did that $300,000 go? Who knows? Gone to pay off his previous scheme, presumably. The plot, in terms of the criminal plan, is ludicrous. While you have to admire Lundegaard's chutzpah, it is criminally stupid to believe that you could get away with taking out loans on cars that don't exist. Especially if you're as bad a liar as Jerry Lundegaard is.
The plot, in terms of the story, is pure genius. I fell totally in love with this film from the first time that I saw the trailer. The screenplay not only richly deserved the Oscar that it won, but may actually be the best that the Coen Brothers have ever written - a bold statement, as the Coens are on my short list of the best filmmakers of this generation. In a film like this, the portrayal of ineptitude can be a very fine balance. Characters must behave in a manner that is inept enough to ensure the failure of their plans, but not so inept as to make it entirely unbelievable that they would even attempt to concoct such a scheme. Fargo walks this balance without a single misstep. It simultaneously walks a similar tightrope of balancing a very funny comedy with a brutally violent suspense film.
The performances are all top-shelf. A particularly underrated highlight to me is Harve Presnell, playing Lundegaard's millionaire father-in-law, a heartless, distant businessman. So shrewd a businessman is he that he feels the need to try to low-ball his daughter's kidnappers on their ransom demand. Frances McDormand, playing the pregnant police chief investigating a triple homicide that was an unfortunate side-effect of the kidnapping, delivers possibly the highlight performance of her career. But the real scene-stealer is William H. Macy, an actor I have always admired, who in this role masterfully plays one of the biggest low-lifes ever to grace the screen. His nomination here, for Best Supporting Actor, is one of those nominations that really makes me wonder how the Academy decides what is a lead role and what is supporting. I mean, not that McDormand doesn't deserve a lead actress award for this film, but she doesn't even make her first appearance on screen until 34 minutes into the film. Lundegaard, on the other hand, is present throughout the entire duration of the film. More importantly, his character is the driving force behind the entire story. The entire film is about his criminal plans, and the disastrous effects they have on everybody around him when they go wrong. How was he not a lead performer in this film?
Movie trivia question: One of only ten performers in Oscar history to be nominated for best lead and supporting performances in the same year, Jessica Lange was an Oscar darling in the 1980's, winning a Supporting Actress Oscar and being nominated for 4 Lead Actress Oscars during the decade. But it wasn't until almost halfway through the following decade that she finally took home a Best Actress statue. What was the film that finally got her the gold?
A man makes a mistake. He makes a bad plan, and it backfires on him. He tells a lie to cover up his mistake. The lie is about to be discovered, so he comes up with another plan, makes another mistake, bigger than the one before. He tells another lie, comes up with another plan to cover his tracks, and so on. In a way, it is easy to see how Jerry Lundegaard (Macy) got in so far over his head in this film. I imagine that Lundegaard's original sin was fairly minor, but that is far behind him by the time the viewer meets him. When we meet Jerry, he is arranging the kidnapping of his wife in order to collect the bulk of the million dollar ransom for himself, paying the kidnappers a paltry $40,000 and a stolen car. He is arranging this, in part, in order to pay off over $300,000 in fraudulent financing monies for cars that don't actually exist. Where did that $300,000 go? Who knows? Gone to pay off his previous scheme, presumably. The plot, in terms of the criminal plan, is ludicrous. While you have to admire Lundegaard's chutzpah, it is criminally stupid to believe that you could get away with taking out loans on cars that don't exist. Especially if you're as bad a liar as Jerry Lundegaard is.
The plot, in terms of the story, is pure genius. I fell totally in love with this film from the first time that I saw the trailer. The screenplay not only richly deserved the Oscar that it won, but may actually be the best that the Coen Brothers have ever written - a bold statement, as the Coens are on my short list of the best filmmakers of this generation. In a film like this, the portrayal of ineptitude can be a very fine balance. Characters must behave in a manner that is inept enough to ensure the failure of their plans, but not so inept as to make it entirely unbelievable that they would even attempt to concoct such a scheme. Fargo walks this balance without a single misstep. It simultaneously walks a similar tightrope of balancing a very funny comedy with a brutally violent suspense film.
The performances are all top-shelf. A particularly underrated highlight to me is Harve Presnell, playing Lundegaard's millionaire father-in-law, a heartless, distant businessman. So shrewd a businessman is he that he feels the need to try to low-ball his daughter's kidnappers on their ransom demand. Frances McDormand, playing the pregnant police chief investigating a triple homicide that was an unfortunate side-effect of the kidnapping, delivers possibly the highlight performance of her career. But the real scene-stealer is William H. Macy, an actor I have always admired, who in this role masterfully plays one of the biggest low-lifes ever to grace the screen. His nomination here, for Best Supporting Actor, is one of those nominations that really makes me wonder how the Academy decides what is a lead role and what is supporting. I mean, not that McDormand doesn't deserve a lead actress award for this film, but she doesn't even make her first appearance on screen until 34 minutes into the film. Lundegaard, on the other hand, is present throughout the entire duration of the film. More importantly, his character is the driving force behind the entire story. The entire film is about his criminal plans, and the disastrous effects they have on everybody around him when they go wrong. How was he not a lead performer in this film?
Movie trivia question: One of only ten performers in Oscar history to be nominated for best lead and supporting performances in the same year, Jessica Lange was an Oscar darling in the 1980's, winning a Supporting Actress Oscar and being nominated for 4 Lead Actress Oscars during the decade. But it wasn't until almost halfway through the following decade that she finally took home a Best Actress statue. What was the film that finally got her the gold?
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