Things have been hectic at OP, and updates have suffered. The rational solution is to have another lightning round and to fire movie updates at you from a firehose:
To Kill a Mockingbird (Nominated 1962) - This is probably the Gregory Peck performance that is most lauded, although I do not agree that it's his best. It faithfully follows the book, from what I can remember of the book. Director Robert Mulligan does well to elevate Scout (a role casted brilliantly for Mary Badham, who at age 10 would become the youngest person ever nominated for Best Supporting Actress) to the main character and protagonist, and to tell the story from her perspective. A young Robert Duvall appears as Boo Radley at the end. Score: 7.4. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (Nominated 1969), All the President's Men (Nominated 1976) and Out of Africa (Won 1985) - I will discuss these movies in tandem because they all involve Robert Redford.
Butch Cassidy is the movie with this scene:
It's funny and displays an air of nihilism that is somewhat common from movies in the late 60's/early 70's (see, e.g.MASH, The French Connection, A Clockwork Orange). The movie is 100% founded in the on-screen chemistry between Redford and Paul Newman, who would shortly thereafter capitalize on their relationship in 1973's winner The Sting. Score for Butch Cassidy: 7.0.
All the President's Men is the movie about Watergate, where Redford plays Bob Woodward and Dustin Hoffman is Carl Bernstein, both reporters at the Washington Post whose work led directly to the invention of the phrase "investigative journalism." The dialogue and directing is sharp, thanks to Alan Pakula, who oddly had very little future success replicating what he did on this film. Having never read the novel that the screenplay is based on, I learned more about Watergate from watching this movie than from anything else in my life. Because of that, and because of Redford and Hoffman's perfect performances, Score: 8.5.
Robert Redford is great at pretending to have a phone conversation.
Finally, Out of Africa. This is Sydney Pollack's opus as a director (Tootsie is arguably that, too, but I would not be one to make that argument). It's a beautiful, sweeping period drama drawing from a the style of David Lean. Meryl Streep plays the protagonist, a Danish aristocrat who moves to British East Africa to start a farm. Streep's performance is brilliant, although I struggled with her Danish accent. Redford is her flighty (literally) romantic interest. Ultimately, it is a love story with beautiful scenery. 1985's other nominees include the ridiculous Witness and The Color Purple. Not the greatest of Academy years. Score: 6.9.
OP also recently watched She Done Him Wrong (Nominated 1933). This is a short movie starring Mae West and a very young Cary Grant. The plot, etc., not important. It's a vehicle for Mae West, whose history in the entertainment industry is incredibly fascinating and is worth reading on its own. We all know who Mae West is. We all have seen cartoon depictions of her. Very, very interesting. The movie is just okay. Score: 5.5.
I'm just a simple, small-town movie viewer / blog person, and I have some thoughts about Anatomy of a Murder (nominated 1959).
Though OP had previously seen Anatomy, a rewatch was necessary due to a nearly 10-year time lapse. The second viewing was significantly more interesting, given the sheer amount of Jimmy Stewart exposure on the OP viewing list, including You Can't Take it With You, How the West Was Won, and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (update coming later).
Stewart was 50 years old at the time Anatomy was made, and director Otto Preminger gives us a decidedly less springy, more nihilistic, and ultimately more interesting version of the actor as Paul Biegler, the smalltown lawyer from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan who navigates a murder case for a less-than-lovable client.
Anatomy is striking to OP for its intense focus on the technical details of criminal law, trial practice, and evidence. From the time we are introduced to the accused murderer to the time that the trial actually starts, Preminger carefully develops Biegler's personality as one that is equal parts shrewd and complacent. Ultimately, Biegler goes all in from an advocacy standpoint and even toes the line several times during the trial to being in contempt of court.
OP has rarely seen a movie create as much suspense out of legal technicalities. Other OP watchlist instances that come to mind are A Few Good Men (nominated 1992) and Judgment at Nuremburg (nominated 1961), but Anatomy is unique for doing it with a twist of raunchy humor on the side. For its time, Anatomy was quite a scandalous movie. For example, "panties" are a key trial exhibit and there is a lot of suggestive dialogue regarding the wife of the accused murderer.
George C. Scott, always a fine supporting actor in this era (see, e.g. The Hustler), does well as the "prosecutor from the big city of Lansing," and Duke Ellington provides a thrilling jazz soundtrack. The BP winner from 1959 is the epic of epics Ben-Hur, not the type of film to be easily challenged by an upstart procedural such as this.
It's been a busy week at OP for non-OP related things. This week, let's talk about a weird little movie called The Yearling, nominated for Best Picture in 1946. The Yearling, based on the book of the same name, is about a family in late-19th-century Florida. It's also about a deer. A "yearling" is a deer.
This deer is named Flag, and it's the Old Yeller of deer, I guess.
The deer is named "Flag" because of his white tail. As a fawn, Flag earns the good graces of Greg Peck and his son because its mother helped save Greg's life. We meet Flag pretty deep into the movie, which is odd. After being bitten by a snake, Greg shoots a doe and instructs his son to cut out its heart and bring him the heart. This helps counteract the snakebite, somehow. This is very interesting. Greg survives the snake attack, and the fawn comes home to live with the family at their farm.
Flag is a pain in the ass. Flag keeps eating the family's crops. They build a fence around the crops to try and keep him out, and Flag very easily clears this fence and eats the crops again. Greg Peck's movie son is instructed to take Flag into the woods and shoot him. He cannot do it.
It is difficult for me to identify with a character who so loves a deer that he is unable to kill it, even when said deer is unequivocally detrimental to the family's survival. A deer provides tasty venison, and a dead deer does not eat your crops.
Greg Peck looks into the dead eyes of his cervine co-star
The saving grace of this movie is Greg Peck, who delivers dialogue like he usually does: commandingly but with a wry twist. Even though the dialogue is meant to be spoken in a deep, Southern accent, Peck does not really alter his delivery. He's believable as a father who will bend over backwards to preserve the innocence of his son's youth for as long as possible. What's not believable is the kid who plays his son. He's a little too Little Lord Fauntleroy to credibly be Peck's son, and also resembles him in zero ways.
I give The Yearling a 5.5. The BP winner in 1946 was The Best Years of Our Lives, clearly a better choice.
The 1950's was a time to make great movies about World War II, which wrapped up a decade earlier. Let's talk about these movies:
From Here to Eternity (Won 1953)
Mister Roberts (Nominated 1955)
The Bridge on the River Kwai (Won 1957)
From Here to Eternity is among Fred Zinnemann's most celebrated films. It stars Burt Lancaster, Montgomery Clift, Deborah Kerr, Donna Reed, and Frank Sinatra as soldiers and soldiers' counterparts stationed at Hawaii in the weeks and days leading up to the attack on Pearl Harbor. There are two love stories underscoring the plot: one between the characters played by Lancaster and Kerr; and the other between the characters played by Clift and Reed.
This movie is most famous for probably one scene, involving Lancaster and Kerr (who is cheating on her husband, Lancaster's commanding officer) making out on the beach at Halona Cove in Oahu, as the tide washes over them. You know the one:
From Here to Eternity is the movie where this happens
Despite their photogenic beach-romping, Lancaster and Kerr actually spend most of the film in supporting roles to Montgomery Clift's main character, a talented bugler and misanthropic former boxing champion. I'm a big fan of both Lancaster (his turn in Judgment at Nuremburg is quite spectacular, but more on that in a couple weeks) and Clift, yet another big talent who died as a weirdly young age. The real star of From Here to Eternity, however, is Frank Sinatra, whose "Maggio" character steals every scene he's in and very aptly balances/foils what otherwise would be a a probably-over-morose main cast. Not to be outdone, Ernest Borgnine is great as the villainous Sergeant of the Guard at the stockade (jail).
The plot of this film is akin to a soap opera. But because it takes place in an interesting backdrop, and because of Frank Sinatra's fish-out-of-water antics, it works. Cleverly, in the last act of the film, the characters are often seen situated near calendars and clocks as the morning of December 7, 1941 draws near. In one scene, Lancaster has a heartfelt telephone discussion with Kerr about the state of their affair, while a calendar showing "December 6" is placed conspicuously in the background.
From Here to Eternity climaxes by deftly switching gears from love story to action film as the attack on Pearl Harbor commences. It's great, and I want to see it again. Score: 8.3.
Next, we have Mister Roberts, the second of three movies in today's post that have to do not only with World War 2, but specifically with the Pacific Theatre. (Sort of.) John Ford directs this Broadway play adaptation that stars Henry Fonda as the titular character, Jack Lemmon as his quartermate and James Cagney as the insanely strict captain. They are all aboard a cargo ship situated exactly as far away from the action in the Pacific to still be considered "at war." Somewhat similarly to parts of The Sand Pebbles, much of the conflict comes from the crew's sheer boredom and the dip in morale that comes with it.
I think this film is meant to be a little more funny than it actually is. Henry Fonda is good, and Jack Lemmon is hammy. Lemmon won Best Supporting Actor for his part. Most of Mister Roberts takes place on a couples spots on the ship's deck and in the ship's doctor's cabin. Having been a play adaptation, this make sense. Here's one scene where the crew attempts to create "scotch" for some nurses planning to come aboard later. They use non-traditional ingredients (and I realize now that it may have inspired parts of The Master). This is emblematic of most of the movie:
Score for Mister Roberts: 5.7. So far, in the year 1955, the Academy seems to have made a historically justified decision by awarding BP to Marty.
Last but not least: The Bridge on the River Kwai is David Lean's other-best-known work, and it won Best Picture in 1957. Alec Guinness is a British Lieutenant Colonel, Nicholson, whose regiment has been captured and brought to a Japanese labor camp in Thailand. Their task is to build a railway, over the River Kwai, which will have some strategic implications for Japan. Nicholson outwardly rejects the requirement for officers to join enlisted men in the labor, citing the Geneva Convention, and wins that concession once the Japanese colonel (played brilliantly by Sessue Hayakawa) realizes that the bridge project will certainly fail unless they utilize the British engineering acumen. Once effectively in charge, Nicholson slowly begins to take a great amount of pride in the workmanship of the bridge. His prisoner colleagues question his motives, such as here:
Meanwhile, one of the American POW's escapes and eventually makes his way to Ceylon, where he is recruited by a multi-national commando unit tasked with destroying the bridge. This leads to an amazing climax. The bridge is completed and awaits its first train crossing, and the commando unit has wired it for explosives the night before. As the train approaches, Nicholson discovers the explosives and first alerts the Japanese to the danger. Amid resulting crossfire, however, Nicholson eventually realizes the extreme juxtaposition of his pride and his duty as a British soldier, resulting in one of the great expressions of self-realization ever filmed: "What have I done?"
The Bridge on the River Kwai, like other of David Lean's works, is beautifully photographed and makes great use of its leading men. Guinness won Best Actor for his portrayal of Nicholson, David Lean won Best Director, and the film also won Best Editing and Best Cinematography. (Another of Lean's films, Lawrence of Arabia, an OP favorite, would repeat the Best Picture/Director/Editing/Cinematography feat just five years later.)
This gets a score becoming of a must-see film: 9.2. Madness!
An impressive cast including Jimmy Stewart, Gregory Peck, Henry Fonda, John Wayne and Debbie Reynolds. Unfortunately, not a very good movie. The narrative is long and confusing, and the dialogue is bizarre, even for a period piece. It might be more well known for how it was shot. The credits indicate three directors (including John Ford) and FOUR cinematographers. They used a three-projector, curved-screen Cinerama process. This was probably quite a spectacle in 1963, but unfortunately, today, it looks like an early Busta Rhymes video. Instead of watching this movie, you can just see how it ends here:
1963 is shaping up to have been a pretty dismal year. Along with this movie, Cleopatra was also nominated for BP, and Tom Jones was the winner. How the West Was Won kind of sucks. Score: 4.0.
Dances With Wolves (Won 1990)
No, I had never seen this film until watching it as part of the OP project. I wanted to like it, especially after having sat through How the West Was Won, which offers a very 1960's Hollywood (i.e. totally, unabashedly racist) perspective on Native Americans. For its part, I can see that Dances With Wolves was an important movie in 1990. Let's put that issue to the side for now.
From a filmmaking perspective, I can understand why Dances With Wolves won Best Picture. Much of it is truly breathtaking. There is nothing in Goodfellas that compares to the buffalo hunt scene. Sorry, there isn't. I almost can't believe that Kevin Costner directed this and Waterworld within the same five-year span. The Academy likes epic, sprawling movies with a little bit of heart. One of these wins BP every decade or so. Costner did his best impression of David Lean here.
This movie, and the year 1990, is deserving of a broader discussion that I will try to save for later. For now, I will say I'm a little surprised that this film is constantly bashed as undeserving, poorly made trash. That's just not true. Reasonable people can disagree on the whole Goodfellas thing, but this is not a movie on par with truly bizarre winners such as Crash and Shakespeare in Love. I liked it, to an extent, and my score for Dances With Wolves is: 7.9.
Four Daughters (Nominated 1938)
Wikipedia says this movie is a musical drama, which is misleading. This is not a "musical," although the titular four daughters are all musicians and they are sometimes seen performing music. Three of the four daughters are played by the Lane Sisters, who were popular for a brief spell in the late 1930's and 1940's. I can't honestly represent that anything about the plot is particularly unique or important. The four daughters have a widowed father, and fall in love with men, and get into shenanigans. It is a fun movie. Like You Can't Take it With You, this is the type of film that would never be made now, because we have television sitcoms. Score: 5.9.
Boys Town (Nominated 1938)
In Boys Town, Spencer Tracy plays a priest who starts a home for troubled youth in Omaha, Nebraska. One of his more challenging projects is entertainingly portrayed by Mickey Rooney. He's sort of a wannabe, 1930's gangster kid. It is really great. The plot turns weird later when the future of the boys' home gets somehow intertwined with Mickey Rooney's character's older, gangster brother and whether he's caught robbing a bank. Who knew there was so much mob activity in Omaha back then? Score: 6.0.
The Music Man (Nominated 1962)
This is a weird, wonderful movie. The main character is a traveling salesman/grifter who sets his sights on a fictional town in Iowa. He convinces the townfolk that he's a music professor and will create, for them, a fully functional marching band. (Why this is something particularly desirable for an entire town of people, I do not know.) He plans to skip town once the instruments and uniforms arrive, and without training anybody. It's a Broadway adaptation starring Robert Preston and Shirley Jones, who are both great. The musical numbers are mostly good. Some of the songs are well known, for example:
If nothing else, after seeing this movie, I now more appreciate the Simpsons episode "Marge vs. the Monorail," which is mostly an homage to this musical and the "Professor" Harold Hill character.
Score for Music Man: 7.8. I like musicals too much.
Whiplash (Nominated 2014)
This is another movie about a Music Man, and will forever be famous for one reason only: J.K. Simmons' Best Supporting Actor-winning performance as the verbally (and sometimes physically) abusive jazz teacher. It's a decent film, and the music sequences are pretty thrilling. (This was an easy call for Best Sound Mixing.) The plot is oddly implausible at times. I don't believe that the main character would walk off the scene of a car crash. I don't believe J.K. Simmons would intentionally lure the main character into a professional music gig just to embarrass him, and I also don't believe that the main character would turn that situation on its head by playing a 10-minute drum solo. Still, fun to watch. Score: 6.8.
It may appear from this site that I'm only getting through one or two movies per week, but in fact I am watching movies at a much faster rate than I have time to write about them. My back-log is currently at about 20 nominated movies. I've begun to enjoy providing more than just a few sentences to capture my thoughts on what I watch, but this week, I will break the mold a little bit and just try to catch up.
Lightning round! Go!!!!
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (Nominated 2000)
Should have won in 2000. Gladiator won. Gladiator is fine, especially if you were my age when you saw it for the first time, with your friends, in a movie theater, totally not knowing that the best thing about it 15 years later would be Joaquin Phoenix's performance. Crouching Tiger is an amazing film, and it brought to mainstream audiences what Drunken Master (and to a lesser extent The Matrix) fans knew already: that Yuen Woo-Ping was doing ridiculous, original, beautiful things with action choreography. Crouching Tiger gets a 8.6. Here is the objectively best scene from Crouching Tiger:
Just for shits, here is another amazing Woo-Ping-choreographed fight scene from (within the best 45-minutes of the entire Matrix trilogy, as this goes right into the highway sequence) The Matrix Reloaded:
Scent of a Woman (Nominated 1992)
Very mediocre movie, though it is watchable from start to finish. I cannot believe that Al Pacino won Best Actor this year for such a one-dimensional, over-the-top performance. Chris O'Donnell is barely watchable. This movie was directed by Martin Brest, who went on to direct such clunkers as Meet Joe Black and Gigli. The best part of this film is any scene with Philip Seymour Hoffman's character. R.I.P. James Rebhorn, who unfortunately seemed to be typecast as "stern guy" after this film. Score: 4.9.
Gone With the Wind (Won 1939)
This movie is deserving of a broader discussion, but almost very appropriately, it is shoved into the Lightning Round here on OP. It's a good movie. It is too long. It was probably the most important thing, along with The Wizard of Oz, to ever come out of Hollywood at this point in time. The Wizard of Oz is a better film. The performances are fine, and Clark Gable is unmatched. Racial stereotypes are abound, and there are a lot of resulting, cringe-worthy moments. In this way, Gone With the Wind is a relic in both good ways and bad. I was happy that (spoiler alert) Rhett leaves Scarlett in the end. She sucks. Score: 7.5.
Wuthering Heights (Nominated 1939)
Another movie from the same year, frequently referred to as Hollywood's best. A young Sir Laurence Olivier plays Heathcliff in this adaptation of the Bronte novel. Amazingly, this was not the first time Wuthering Heights was made into a movie. It was also a silent film in the 1920's. For a talkie, this one was fine. Olivier and Merle Oberon (Cathy) are good in their roles. Score: 6.3.
The Best Years of Our Lives (Won 1946)
Great film about a subject that many people think was broached for the first time, EVER, in American Sniper: combat veterans adjusting to their lives back home. Three men return from World War II to their fictional, Midwest-ish hometown Boone City. They each have circumstances and difficulties to deal with. Most captivating is Harold Russell as Homer, a naval officer who lost both hands in the war. This actually happened to the real-life Russell, and he is fantastic in this role as a first-time actor. Score: 8.3.
An American in Paris (Won 1951)
I like this movie. Brandon does not, and thinks it is pointless. I agree it is pointless, but I like it anyway. Gene Kelly does what he does best: dances and sings, and makes us laugh. There is a plot, sort of, but it mostly takes a back seat to elaborate tap routines and ballet sequences. It is certainly a throwback movie. It is odd that this was so acclaimed, and yet Singin' in the Rain, a similar but far better movie, which came out just one year later, received almost no recognition at all. This is why you have to love the Oscars as a time capsule. Score: 8.0. Here's a clip that is emblematic of the movie. Why is he surrounded by kids? Who cares:
You Can't Take it With You (Won 1938)
An important movie from an important director, Frank Capra, who also gave us several other movies in this dataset, including It Happened One Night and It's a Wonderful Life. Lionel Barrymore (Drew Barrymore's grandfather's brother -- great uncle?) stars as the head of an eccentric family whose daughter is trying to marry into a more "traditional" one through a young Jimmy Stewart. Hilarity ensues. An entertaining movie, and one that would not happen today, because we have sitcoms on TV instead. Score: 6.8.
Before seeing (and ultimately becoming a huge fan of) 2005's Master and Commander: Far Side of the World, I had never heard the term "Jonah" used in the context of sailors and their superstitions. In Master and Commander, one of the younger English officers is branded a "Jonah," which is basically someone who unintentionally curses or brings bad luck to the vessel on which he's sailing. Captain Jack Aubrey's ship goes some time stranded in waters near South America without any rain or wind. The younger officer learns that he's been branded a "Jonah" and eventually sacrifices himself, after which the weather surreptitiously improves. It's one of the weirder, darker sub-plots of that movie.
Mr. Hollom (right) was a Jonah
This project has randomly now given me the only other two examples I am aware of where the film revolves around sailing and where certain characters are branded Jonahs:
Captains Courageous (Nominated 1937)
The Sand Pebbles (Nominated 1966)
Captains Courageous is based on a Ruyard Kipling novel and stars Freddie Bartholomew, Spencer Tracy and Lionel Barrymore. Bartholomew plays a spoiled kid who accompanies his father on a lavish trip to Europe but then falls overboard and is rescued by a fishing vessel. Barrymore is the fishing captain, and Tracy is a Portugese fisherman (with a questionable accent) who befriends the boy. Bartholomew's character was once spoiled but soon becomes rugged, yar! Very early in the movie, the boy is branded a stowaway by the other Fisherman and even referred to as, yes, a Jonah.
This movie is watchable and funny at times, and ultimately, it is okay. Having also just recently seen Spencer Tracy in the more-or-less contemporaneous Boys Town (synopsis coming later), it was odd to see him here in a cartoonish, pirate role. In the 1930's, this was probably referred to as versatility. Please watch this clip and enjoy a surreal experience:
The 1937 winner is The Life of Emile Zola, and I haven't seen it yet. Score for Captains Courageous: 6.0.
The Sand Pebbles stars Steve McQueen, Richard Attenborough (RIP - died in 2014), and Candice Bergen. It's about a naval engineer in the 1920's (McQueen as Jake Holman) who is assigned to a gunboat stationed in China's Yangtze River just before the outbreak of the Chinese Civil War.The boat is the USS San Pablo, which its crew has nicknamed "The Sand Pebbles." There are several running plots in this movie, all intertwined with the backdrop of very interesting and infrequently treated (by films) political turmoil. Attenborough falls in love with a Chinese woman, whom he subsequently rescues from a brothel and marries. Holman trains a Chinese man to work with him on the boat's engine, and that does not turn out well for the Chinese man. Holman also has a fleeting romance with an American missionary, played by Bergen. The sailors aboard the San Pablo enjoy their listless and undemanding existence in peace time, but are later forced into some serious combat with Chinese Nationalists, providing for an exciting climax.
Watching this movie was a highly enjoyable and informative experience. The filmmakers went to great lengths to acquaint us with the San Pablo and its inner workings. One of the best scenes (I wish it was on YouTube, sorry) involves Holman teaching a Chinese man the function of all the valves, pipes, and gauges in the engine room. The characters are often caught within the gray areas of the rules of engagement and interpretations of their role as representatives of the U.S. military (sort of like The Hunt for Red October), and this makes for great palace intrigue.
The Sand Pebbles was my first ever experience with Steve McQueen. His character is, as I've been made aware, a classic McQueen trope: sort of a rebel, but with well-meaning, deep-down intentions. Naturally, he is branded a Jonah quickly upon joining the San Pablo crew and being present at the death of a Chinese man who goes into a treacherous area of the engine to fix something. Weirdly, McQueen did not have great luck in real life, either. He died at the age of 50 from mesothelioma, reportedly brought on by massive asbestos exposure while in the Marines. A very eerie parallel between his real life and the character Jake Holman.
1966 is an interesting Oscar year, and this was my first exposure to it. Other notables include A Man for All Seasons (won) and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (nominated). The Sand Pebbles is very, very, good. I gave it a score of 7.8.
My friend Brandon Wetherbee invited me to chat on his podcast, You Me Them Everybody, and we talked about movies, vaguely in the context of the Oscars. Recap: Brandon likes Rain Man, High Noon, Up, and Rocky. I like Norma Rae, West Side Story, and Spirited Away. Brandon gives me a very deserved jab for using this web site for my blog.
Specifically, I want to discuss two films that produced probably his most famous roles:
The Maltese Falcon (Nominated 1941)
Casablanca (Won 1943)
In The Maltese Falcon, Bogart plays private detective Sam Spade, aka the basis for every other noir detective character, whether ironic or not. There is no Eddie Valiant (Who Framed Roger Rabbit), Jake Gittes (Chinatown), Tracer Bullet (Calvin & Hobbes), Dean Corso (The Ninth Gate), Doc Sportello (Inherent Vice -- OK, this may be a stretch) etc., etc., etc. without Sam Spade. He is written as a shiftless, no-scruples type of guy who somehow manages to stay one step ahead of his rivals, except when he doesn't, and even then, he manages to get out of trouble with little more than a bump on the noggin. The cops are not his friends, but they aren't out to get him either. Women are equal-parts repulsed and drawn to his droopy-eyed, vague-faced attitude.
Oh, and the movie itself is about some people trying to find a statue that, supposedly, is worth upwards of ONE MILLION dollars (in Dr. Evil voice). Allegiances and motives are turned upside down and backwards among a shifty cast of characters, including Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet (both of whom also appeared as cinematic stick figures in Casablanca). But, really, it is not important what happens. All that matters is what Sam Spade says, how he says it, and how cool he is. No, really. I do believe that's what this movie amounts to, and despite being rather one-dimensional, it is pretty good. Here is one of my favorite scenes:
This was my first experience with director John Huston, and other Huston installments will be upcoming throughout this project, e.g.The Treature of the Sierra Madre (also a Bogart vehicle), and Moulin Rouge (1.0). The Maltese Falcon did not win Best Picture in 1941, as that honor went to Mrs. Miniver.
Score for The Maltese Falcon: 7.5.
Now, we arrive at a discussion regarding one of the most personally conflicting movies of this project to date. A little movie called... Casablanca.
This movie is about an exiled American nightclub owner in early 1940's, quasi-occupied Casablanca, Morocco, who has somehow risen to a vague but meaningful level of influence among both authorities and underground figures. That man's name is Rick Blaine, easily Bogart's most famous and historically significant character (although I think Sam Spade is better). Blaine's former lover Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman) arrives in Casablanca with her husband, Victor Laszlo, a leader of the Czech Resistance. To make a longer and more complicated story short: Casablanca is where you need to be if you want to escape occupied Europe, and Blaine has the means for such an escape. He spends most of the film conflicted over (1) his love for Ilsa and (2) his fleeting support of anti-fascist causes, and in the end, he chooses the latter, much to the weepy chagrin of Ilsa.
This was the first time I'd ever seen Casablanca from start to finish. (Gratuitously extraneous detail: I got to see it while chowing on a four-course, Moroccan-inspired menu, complete with wine pairings, thanks again to the best place in the universe, The Alamo Drafthouse.) This movie makes the very short list of one that I've consistently seen near the top of every "All Time Best" list. I knew all the famous quotes, e.g. "here's lookin' at you," "beautiful friendship," "play it Sam" (not "play it again," nobody ever says that), "of all the gin joints," etc. To say that I came into watching this movie with high expectations would be an understatement. I came into this movie expecting to walk out, with tears in my eyes, wanting to rush back to my seat and demand that it be played again from the beginning.
But that didn't really happen.
Don't get me wrong! This is a great film. It is a clinic in writing, and has one of the best closing scenes ever in a movie. But aside from that scene, and possibly the wonderful flashback sequence showing Blaine's and Ilsa's happier times in Paris, I thought that the movie was rather shiftless. Most of the movie takes place inside the nightclub and consists of boring, explanatory dialogue. The supporting cast is very caricature-ish, especially poor Sam and Renault. Bogart acts like Bogart, which is fun if you've never seen any of his other movies, but don't put Rick Blaine and Sam Spade side-by-side and tell me that Spade is not a far superior character. In the end, Bergman, for me, is probably the acting highlight of the film. She is really wonderful, and I'm looking forward to seeing her in Gaslight.
Is Casablanca very, very good? Yes. Is it among the best movies of all time? Not even close.
I've searched the Net high and wide for cinephiles who share my conflict. There are many. There is one writer in particular who I think summed it up best, and excuse me if I paraphrase, but the gist of his notion was that Casablanca might be more "lovable" than it is actually good. This movie has become a sort of idealized notion of old Hollywood, and I think it gets a lot of breaks for that reason. If there's anything I have learned in this project, it's that not all pre-1950's, black-and-white movies are as boring and dialogue-driven as Casablanca. They don't all need to feature wooden, barely believable romances, either. I think we're allowed to expect a little more of a movie that many say ranks among Citizen Kane, The Godfather, Lawrence of Arabia, etc., as one of the best ever made.
For the five people reading this, I invite you to disagree with me and tell me why. These views are subjective and inclined towards certain tastes. But I've been watching a lot of movies from a lot of different decades, and simply do not see the basis for universal, outright, adulation.
Casablanca won Best Picture in 1943, and I have yet to see any of the nine other films that it beat out. But I will probably watch those with an extra careful eye towards comparison. I will give this movie a score fitting of one that is very good, even great, but not nearly an all-time best: 8.4.
The year was 1979. One of the more interesting ones for Best Picture nominees. I've seen winner Kramer vs. Kramer and also-ran Apocalypse Now, and I've always been torn between which one was more deserving. Kramer covers an important topic in an endearing and honest way, and Apocalypse is simply a spellbinding film. It turns out that I was remiss in omitting the year's other nominees from this debate. Norma Rae is another of 1979's nominees. It is about a small town in North Carolina where most inhabitants are employed or otherwise connected to the non-organized textile industry. One of its most popular employees, the title character played by Sally Field, befriends a visiting, New York-native Union organizer and helps him spearhead the effort to unionize the mill.
This is a brilliant, captivating film that I want to watch again. Sally Field's Oscar-winning (Best Actress) performance is one of my all-time favorites, and Norma Rae is one of the best characters in any movie. Also, her supporting cast manages to bring a folksy liveliness to the film without devolving into caricatures. Beau Bridges is particularly good as Sonny Webster, her eventual love interest.
It is not important for the purpose of this project to know where I'm from or what my values and beliefs are, but suffice it to say, I do have to admit that this movie spoke to me on a deeply personal level. History is often rewritten to portray unions as greedy and unnecessary. This movie is not a documentary, though, cleverly, much of it is filmed with hand-held cameras, giving it a documentary feel. I think that it honestly portrays the dangers and imbalances that exist where there is no opportunity for collective bargaining among a labor force. Not all of the "management" characters are outright evil and greedy, and not all of the "labor" characters are outright, hapless victims. The characters on both sides are not one-dimensional, but instead motivated by by a combination of personal circumstances, religious beliefs, racial biases, and sometimes idealism. The film shows us the ways in which the corporation preys on these motivations and does just enough to drive a wedge between the pros and the antis. We don't know until, literally, the end of the movie, whether those who would benefit most from the union will even vote to institute it. That right there is edge-of-your-seat drama.
With apologies to Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore, Norma Rae is the best movie of 1979 I've seen so far, and I give it a score of 9.0.
(I wish there were a better selection of scenes from Norma Rae available on YouTube to post here, but unfortunately there are almost none.)
It's beginning to dawn on me just how long this project will take to complete. I'm currently averaging about five movies per week. With roughly 360 movies to go, that means I am looking at over two more years of film watching.
The TCM channel has made things easier this month. They are airing almost non-stop blocks of Oscar-nominated films (not just "Best Picture" nominees, though) for the entire month of February. I've recorded about 25 movies already, and more are coming. That frees up a lot of space on the snail-mail Netflix queue.
Anyway, let's talk about three musicals:
Funny Girl (Nominated 1968)
Fiddler on the Roof (Nominated 1971)
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Nominated 1954)
Funny Girl is the film that put Barbara Streisand on the map. She's a real tour de force in this one. It takes place in the Florenz Ziegfield era of Broadway (just prior to World War I). Streisand reprises her Broadway role as Fanny Brice, and she deservedly won the Oscar in 1968 for Best Actress. Unfortunately, aside from Streisand, the movie is just okay. The songs are just okay, the supporting cast is just okay. Omar Sharif is great as Nicky Arnstein, a professional gambler and Fanny's love interest, and I do think there was good chemistry between Sharif and Streisand. However, he can't sing all that well, and his character is written very oddly. The second half of the movie is very strangely melodramatic, and I don't understand the ending (which involves Arnstein turning himself in for a vaguely/not explained history of criminal embezzlement?) at all.
Omar gettin' fresh with Barb
(Interesting tidbit about Sharif: in addition to playing a professional card player in Funny Girl, he is apparently a great one in real life. He was once one of the world's top-ranked bridge players.)
This is worth watching, but ultimately not even Streisand and my boy Omar could turn it into a truly great film. The 1968 winner was another musical, Oliver!, that I have yet to see. Score: 6.2.
Fiddler on the Roof is a movie with less Hollywood sheen but much better songs. The cast is not high-powered, but it is authentic, starring Topol--of Israeli film and theater fame--in the lead role of the father Tevye. The movie is about a family in a Jewish shtetl of the Russian Empire in the early 20th century, and Tevye's struggles to balance tradition (TRADITION!) with the changing modern attitudes as his daughters approach marrying age. In the shtetl, the Jews live alongside Russian Cossacks. All are leery of one another, and they dance differently, as shown in one of my favorite scenes of the film (and, actually, one of my now-favorite dance numbers in any movie):
This is a good movie, but I think I'd rather see it on stage. John Williams conducts the score, which makes it feel like Star Wars at times, and that is strange. Fiddler on the Roof is nowhere near as good as The French Connection, which won Best Picture in 1971, and so, thus far, 1971 is a year that got it right. Score: 7.0.
Finally, let's take a trip over to Oregon and talk about Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. And I don't mean Portlandia Oregon, I mean "Oregon Trail" Oregon. This is the best of these three musicals, and I actually got to see it in the theater (thanks Alamo Drafthouse a.k.a. best place in the universe). The plot is hilariously simple: seven brothers, the Pontipees, move to Oregon to farm and harvest lumber, and they are all single. In the opening scene, the oldest brother finds a wife, Milly, and brings her home to the ranch, where the other six Pontipee brothers are running amok. Their names are all biblical, A through G, in order of birth. Since there is no male "F" name in the bible, the second-youngest brother is named Frank, which is short for Frankincense. Hysterical! The brothers also wear color-coded shirts throughout the film! This basically preempts the entire premise of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers!
Milly works to civilize them so that they, too, might one day find brides. Later, everyone goes to a barn raising, and the six younger Pontipees compete against random, non-lumberjack townsfolk for the affections of the other girls. It's one of the best dance scenes in any movie:
Later, the Pontipee brothers literally capture the townswomen and take them back to their ranch for the winter. The women slowly fall in love with the six brothers. It's funny, but also eerily toes the line of depicting Stockholm Syndrome. Since it's a musical comedy, I will give it the benefit of the doubt. Overall, the songs and performances are fantastic, and the film is surprisingly funny.
One bonus for me was seeing a young Russ Tamblyn as Gideon / youngest brother / blue-shirt. He's even younger here than in his later, more famous role in West Side Story. He's a phenomenal dancer and physical actor. Had I not started this project, I might never have appreciated Tamblyn's illustrious, pre-Twin Peaks (Dr. Jacoby) career.
The 1954 Best Picture winner was On The Waterfront, which I am excited to see, but Seven Brides for Seven Brothers has aged well and is a seldom-discussed classic. Score: 8.6.
The Apartment is perhaps Billy Wilder's most famous film (or is at least tied with Some Like It Hot), and definitely Jack Lemmon's most famous role. Lemmon plays a middling employee of an insurance agency who rents his Manhattan apartment out to senior management for their trysts, in exchange for promotions. On the "way up," (wink) he meets and falls in love with Shirley MacLaine's elevator operator character, who herself is romantically involved with one of the soulless company execs.
It's a wonderfully written movie. The Apartment starts as a playful satire of high-powered womanizing, but then delves headlong into the dire consequences that such callous behavior brings for its victims. These consequences give Lemmon's character the opportunity to step in and be a hero. He's eventually given the choice between the corner office job and retaining his soul (and getting the girl as a result).
The style of the movie is really something else. As someone watching this movie for the first time in 2015, I have to say that it's remarkable to see just how much the TV show Mad Men owes to Billy Wilder's version of 1950's/60's New York. Interviews with Matthew Weiner confirm that The Apartment was a major influence on the style and themes of Mad Men. I would say it goes beyond being an influence. Mad Men, in my opinion, comes close to being a complete homage to The Apartment. Which is not a bad thing.
A room full of typewriters, overcoats, hats... where is Don Draper?
The Apartment won Best Picture in 1960 over four films that I have not yet seen. I have a feeling it was the right choice. Score: 8.8
Deliverance is John Boorman's genre-bending 1972 film about four businessmen from Atlanta that go canoeing in backwoods Georgia. Starring both Jon Voight and Burt Reynolds, Deliverance blends elements of comedy, horror, adventure and documentary. The result is truly mesmerizing. I've rarely seen a film that is gruesome, transfixing, and uplifting all at the same time.
As the characters go further and further down the river, one can't help but think of themes elucidated in Heart of Darkness (and to a correlative extent Apocalypse Now). After just one night at camp, their city-sheltered naivete is shattered by two mountain men, who proceed to maim, rape and kill the four businessmen ... although not necessarily in that order. They slowly descend from innocent excitement to desperation and near-lunacy.
Reynolds' character is one of the most interesting I've seen in any movie. He's supposedly the most rugged of the four travelers, but as we come to learn, the gap between him and the grizzled natives is only slightly narrower than the other three. If this isn't Burt Reynolds' best role (and despite being a fan of "Archer," I have not yet seen Gator), I don't know what is.
Deliverance works on all levels. There are famous moments that we've all heard of (e.g. the dueling banjos, "squeal like a pig"), that are made more horrifying and bizarre because of the seemingly tranquil, pristine backdrop of the untouched Georgia wilderness against which they take place. And on that note, the film is beautifully shot. The early scenes, in particular, do a great job immersing the viewer in nature, almost like a documentary:
Deliverance did not win Best Picture because it was 1972, and it was up against The Godfather. That's not particularly fair. It's an excellent, unique film that holds up very well. Score: 8.3.
Let's briefly talk about High Noon, nominated for Best Picture in 1952.
This is a Western (because it has horses), starring Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly. A young Lloyd Bridges also appears as a town deputy. It was directed by Fred Zinnemann, who is probably more famous for later works like From Here to Eternity and A Man for All Seasons. It has a theme song:
Gary Cooper is a lawman in a small town in the New Mexico territory, and his plan is to marry Grace Kelly, a Quaker, and move away to live a quiet life. They're scheduled to leave on the noon train. However, BAD NEWS: some outlaws that Cooper put away have been released and are coming to get their revenge. The townsfolk are split on their feelings toward Cooper, as said bad guys were previously good for the economy. Thus, the moral conundrum of the story, which advances in near real-time. Who is with Gary Cooper? Who will stand up with him and fight the bad guys?
This is a fine Western with emblematic performances by Cooper and Kelly. Cooper's character is truly a folk-hero type of dude, although he is a little too pristine and preachy for my likes. (Compare: Shane, who is almost an anti-hero, and much more interesting that way). It is sad to think that Cooper would only be around for about another 8 years before his death.
The Best Picture winner in 1952 was The Greatest Show on Earth, and all indications are that it's one of the weaker winners, but we will see. High Noon gets a 7.1.
It's been about two months since I started this project. Amazingly... I am still doing it!
There are 520 total films in the data set, including the 2014 nominees. Including films seen before the start of the project, I have seen and ranked 156.25 films and have 363.75 left to go. (The decimals are for Shakespeare in Love, where, so far, I have only been able to watch in roughly 30-minute increments before totally losing my will to live.)
Of the 156 movies seen, my average rating is 7.1. The lowest-ranked movie is Love Story (1970) at 3.2, and the highest is L.A. Confidential (1997) at 9.8.
Here is my Top 20 as of February 2, 2015:
Rank
Title
Year
Result
Thoughts
Rating
1
L.A. Confidential
1997
Nominated
By far the best movie of the year and one of my all-time favorites.
9.8
Tie 2
The Godfather
1972
Won
A film that is bigger than film, totally engrossing in every way.
9.7
Tie 2
Fargo
1996
Nominated
One of the most perfect movies. There will never be another "Fargo."
9.7
Tie 4
The Godfather Part II
1974
Won
Like its predecessor, an absolute clinic in filmmaking, though now I find the "modern day" segments harder to sit through.
9.5
Tie 4
There Will Be Blood
2007
Nominated
Despite my Coen's allegience, I still maintain that this was the best film of the year. Sheer brilliance in character development and visual/technical style.
9.5
Tie 6
Shane
1953
Nominated
The best American-directed Western I have ever seen. Cleverly presents familiar Western themes through the child's perspective and explains only as much as necessary. Beautifully shot.
9.4
Tie 6
Lawrence of Arabia
1962
Won
A timeless movie. The scale and artistry are as impressive today as they must have been when released. O'Toole's and Omar Sharif's performances are two of my favorite in any film ever made.
9.4
Tie 8
West Side Story
1961
Won
Wow! Some of the acting was spotty, but the music and choreography is as good as advertised. This is a movie I'll watch over and over again.
9.3
Tie 8
Pulp Fiction
1994
Nominated
This is probably the most important film of the year and one of the most important films of my life. Still highly watchable.
9.3
10
Barry Lyndon
1975
Nominated
To me, this is the most underrated Kubrick film. One of the most carefully crafted movies, visually, I've ever seen. Surprisingly funny, in an underhanded way.
9.2
11
Amadeus
1984
Won
Another one of my favorite films -- gives us interesting period-piece eye and ear candy and funny and multi-dimensional characters.
9.1
12
Apocalypse Now
1979
Nominated
My favorite Vietnam movie, though I prefer the original cut over all "redux" versions.
9.0
Tie 13
Dr. Strangelove
1964
Nominated
The most important film for this year, still as funny today as it ever was.
8.9
Tie 13
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
2003
Won
Still the most spectacularly epic film I've seen other than Lawrence of Arabia.
8.9
14
The French Connection
1971
Won
A one-of-a-kind, enduring, brutally honest, nihilistic crime thriller with the best car chase scene ever in a movie.
8.7
Tie 15
Marty
1955
Won
Brilliantly written with original, believable characters.
8.6
Tie 15
Star Wars
1977
Nominated
Seems odd to encapsulte my feelings about "Star Wars" in one sentence, so I will not try.
8.6
Tie 15
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
2000
Nominated
Ages gracefully and probably includes the best fight choreography of any movie on this list.
8.6
Tie 15
The Remains of the Day
1993
Nominated
What a year 1993 was. This movie has grown on me over time. I love Anthony Hopkins' character and the shifting period narrative. "Downton Abbey" does not exist without this movie.
8.6
Tie 15
Raiders of the Lost Ark
1981
Nominated
Easily the most important film from this year. Remains the modern action-adventure standard. I love this film.
8.6
(Oops -- My update on Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is coming soon. If you can't tell from above ...... I liked it very much.)
The Google document where I am tabulating data can be found here.
