EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
This is one of the early Oscar winners that few without an intimate knowledge of the early days of the awards would know anything about. It tells the tale of Emile Zola and his lifelong battle against inequality, and for justice. It is an epic, the scale of the producing is apparent with the brilliant use of hundreds of extras who sometimes play almost as significant a role as any of the principals, creating the tense, hostile atmosphere in the courtroom, the panic in the square and jubilation in the streets for the returning army from the Prussian conflict. The baying of the crowd is particularly impressive- individual voices can be heard while the overall effect is naturalistic. However, the fact that the stand out performance is from the extras maybe reflects that an actor’s training in 1936 is still heavily grounded in the theatre- cinema had not yet quite found a style appropriate to the big screen. Their bold movements, necessary on the stage, like many other films of the era come across as unrealistic and exaggerated. Sometimes even comical without intending to be. We begin in the draughty hovel of a room he shares with an early Cezanne, the master painter, who was also yet to hit any headlines. Very sentimentally shot in soft focus, black and white, and with orchestral strings brought in regularly to direct emotion it has a very dated feel. There is an artistry to it all, but it is hidden- camera trickery might go unnoticed, such as the very clever lighting and use of shadows to enhance the scale and depth of certain shots. For instance, in the 2nd military tribunal (of Estherhazy) there are only ten soldiers behind him, but the lighting gives the impression of the darkness, power and reach of this moment. Costume and set design were also carefully considered. The contrast between poverty and opulence is stark- the broken, dirty window panes and crates of the start are replaced by gilt-edged furniture, sparkling 18 candle candelabras and rooms stuffed with other decorative items. If it were not already enough, Zola and his wife ensure you can’t miss their progress up the material ladder: “see the pearls Emile bought for me when we were in Italy”; “this most exquisite majolica”. You may know Zola, the author, legion d’honneur holder, founding father of modern France. Here he is shown to have a moral compass that always pointed true north, much to his detriment in the early days where he suffers at the hands of the authorities and rich, dumpy employers- none of whom argue that the man can’t write, but all abhor his chosen subject of bringing to light the injustices suffered by the poor, the weak, the vulnerable while berating the rich, the powerful for what he saw as their criminal inaction and neglect of ordinary citizens. “Why do you write such muckraking stuff when there are many pleasant things in life?” his tubby superior implores. The film focuses on two moments of inspiration in Zola’s life. The first, a chance encounter with a lady of the night who gives him the bones of the story for his first bestseller, ‘Nana’. She is running from police who are rounding dozens of such ladies up in the square, Zola hides her in plain sight at his table in a cafe and they get chatting. She tells him her story of hopes dashed, small girl in a big city, being taken advantage of by unscrupulous characters and finally the death of her young daughter. He puts pen to paper, tells her story (calling it “Nana”), hits a winning streak of success after success and finally finds economic stability. That’s the set up. The years pass, Zola himself grows ‘fat and old’ (his old friend Cezanne warns him) and soft too… he effectively retires from fighting injustice, feeling he has earned it. But we are barely half way through the film, and so the second moment of inspiration arrives. Another female figure- the wife of a wrongly convicted military man serving a life sentence on Devil’s Island (the notorious prison island off Guyana, you might remember it from 'Papillon' - the 1973 film starring Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman*) arrives and appeals to Zola to take up their cause. Although reluctant, he can’t refuse once he takes the time to study the evidence not just of his innocence, but also of a conspiracy at the top of the military establishment. A juicy target he has no intention of passing up. And so Zola, in what will prove to be his final act of defiance against a superior authority begins a seemingly unwinnable battle when he utters the immortal line: “I accuse…” (or “J’accuse!” if you so prefer) and accuses the entire higher military establishment of collusion, conspiracy, fraud and cowardice. This soon becomes a courtroom drama, the earliest I have yet seen, shot sumptuously with over a hundred extras who are fantastically directed. Once again, Zola suffers indignity, and this sets up the denouement. Vindication! Justice! Vive la France! Overall, the film impresses, but with a running time of just under 2 hours and every minute heavily laden with overacting, wigs, stiff backs and calculated movements it is one whose qualities, like a large Havana cigar, are perhaps best enjoyed by connoisseurs of the genre. The rest of us are unlikely to make it all the way through. Postscript: Many of Emile Zola’s writings are referenced throughout the film, and I wanted to add a final note on this. At Zola’s funeral at the very end of the film the eulogy given includes the following words, a translation of Zola’s (from the 19th century) and here used as a warning to Europe, in the middle of the rise of the Third Reich- : “Do not forget those who fought the battles for you and bought your liberty with their genius and their blood. Do not forget them and applaud the lies of fanatical intolerance. Be human.” Fine advice to all. *Corrected 9/9/18- I previously stated that Napoleon was imprisoned there, but that was the Island of Elba. Silly me. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner Five minutes in and you think that the beginning gave too much away. The exposition is really heavy handed but, fortunately, this movie has plenty up its sleeve. The main characters are introduced making phone calls in the lobby, each explaining their identity: “I am awaiting news from Manchester, without it I cannot sell my business” says the factory owner, “I am dying, and plan to live out my final days in the grand hotel, the greatest of hotels, spending all my savings. And I hate my boss, the factory owner.”... and so on. If you ever find yourself wanting to explain exposition with a copy of Grand Hotel to hand, play the first 4 minutes. The pace is slow to begin with, but as we meander alongside the protagonists, through the halls, rooms and balconies of the Grand Hotel we benefit from this pacing. We are gently absorbed into and by the construct, it watches much like a novel. The flailing about of the early talkies had been off-putting, here I found myself admiring the magnetism of the drama. The characters are driven by endearingly simplistic motivations and remain true to them throughout. There is Greta Garbo’s Russian Ballerina (Gusinskaya) who has lost inspiration and John Barrymore’s Hotel Thief (Baron Felix) who finds the light in her presence, Joan Crawford’s playful ‘Flem’... there is a strange pleasure in watching these finely crafted charicatures’ stories play out. Each character has their best moments when they hold the spotlight in masterful two-handers. A fine collection of character actors, they feed off each other but always in a shared spotlight. Any combination of characters seems to bring something new, reveals something you hadn't yet seen, one of the clearest examples of this is with Kringelein, the aforementioned accountant who finds a new lease of life in his final days spending all his savings on champagne and gambling. When opposite the Baron he becomes more confident, with Flem he is a shy boy or ‘soft old fool’ and when in the presence of his boss of 30+ years he cowers, but later rails against his cruelty. They are all defined by their relationships with others, and once you see this you realise that you cannot wait to see who comes together next. Wallace Beery plays said boss: General Director Prysing, factory owner. Although shown in a sympathetic light at first, a businessman trying to keep a company afloat, his turning point comes when he lies to push a business deal through in desperation. Generally a distasteful character, he is responsible for crushing any chance of a happy ending for the Baron and the Ballerina in the final act. In the context of the first years of the great depression it would have been very easy to set him up as the bad guy, and likewise the Baron as the hero.The latter, a man down on his luck resorting to crime to survive, maintains his honour as best he can and always supporting the underdog: just what the 1930's needed. And so, the pace picked up towards the end and really found its groove in the final act. 'Life goes on, regardless' is the message and it is delivered artfully. The Grand Hotel itself is an apt metaphor for the world which continues to turn despite goings on on the surface. Guests come and go, fall in and out of love, births, deaths, gain or let slip a fortune. But, the doors will continue to open and shut dispassionately. Money is also a theme- how people will sacrifice morality and dignity or simply what is right in order to keep it or to make it, despite their often noble instincts. Here, we have another early talkie worth watching, you do come away wishing to have booked a room and stayed even one night. This film gives you two hours in the Grand Hotel and they are worth it: I've given it 5 stars on tripadvisor. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
One luxury for filmmakers for most of last century was that your audience had patience. ‘Mutiny on the Bounty’ knew it had a story worth telling, and in Charles Laughton and Clark Gable it had actors who were each able to hold the screen for as long as they cared. And that is just what they did. As if to emphasise the point, the movie opens with a title sequence that explains the plot of the film we are about to see. We don’t need the suspense generated by not knowing what broad twists and turns might take place because from the outset we are fully informed. This is a story about a mutiny committed by a crew on the HMS bounty who could take no more of the ill-treatment meated out by their captain. Clark Gable plays Fletcher Christian- the most wronged of the officers by Captain Bligh and the man who spearheaded the mutiny itself. A more apt name for the hero of this version of events is not possible. He was a picture of Christian virtue, standing up to Captain Bligh for the men of every station when they were unjustly treated. Mutiny, when it finally came, was a relief to those on board and likely to the audiences of the 1930s. The relentless floggings and unfair treatment would have been tough to watch, although through modern eyes it is quite bearable. Black and white images soften the violence considerably, blood is no longer alarm-red while the special effects are yet to be developed to the point of believability. It is a surprise to see any ambiguity on whether the mutiny was the correct thing to do or not- while ensuring that the audience understands that the mutineers were given no choice the film also shows the many who sided with the captain. And as the film goes on you find the mutineers’ righteousness was probably all in your head. There is a surprising suggestion that not everyone who stands up to a tyrant is on the side of good. And so, there is the issue of the 'natives'. The Bounty arrives at its destination, Tahiti, where there appears to be an idyllic life- the indigenous population are delighted to have the English arrive and shower them with garlands and all the women are for the taking. The men are few and far between, but generally are quite happy to have English sailors take their pick of their wives, daughters, sisters and others women. There is even an odd moment where an ageing deckhand is about to disappear into a hut with an island lady, only to scarper when he sees her 6 children rush into the hut ahead of them. Again, the one dimensional reductive image of other races rears its ugly head, this time as a plaything. The reductive image is one of a peace loving, benign, happy people who seem to be one step ahead of civilisation in many ways, but, typically, it is of a foreign, simplistic 'other'. The violence is stylised, much of the techniques no doubt gleaned from stage fighting. Movements are bold, clean and clear cut. The theatrical nature of early film is not universal, but any film designed to appeal to a broad audience at the time would have done the same. It borrowed a little swashbuckle from earlier seafaring pictures of the Errol Flynn stable, but nonetheless, the message was clear- the bad guy got his comeuppance and the journey to this endpoint was entertaining. The message was less clear surrounding the fates of the others. In reality, aside from pardons for those who had connections to land, money or titles the mutineers were hung or remained in exile until their dying day. But lets not let a little history sneak into our historical drama, let’s focus on the change for the good that the mutiny brought. The navy was a much better place to be as a result. Officers and seamen were now brothers in arms. Well done everyone concerned. Bligh may have gone on to receive promotion after promotion, before dying at around 60 years old, but he never sailed as a captain again. And Britain ended up ruling the waves, all thanks to this Mutiny on the Bounty. Yes. The message is upbeat but doesn't entirely make sense. But with land of hope and glory and Rule Britannia playing over the top of stirring images of sailing ships just before the credits roll we are left with a feeling of satisfaction that it was all worthwhile. And actually, I quite enjoyed these escapades in a 9 year old boy-ish kind of way. A nice bit of fun for a Sunday afternoon. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
Frank Capra. Best known for being the man behind 'It's a Wonderful Life'- that Jimmy Stewart movie shown every Christmas about appreciating what you don't know you have. His films have heart, warmth and wit. It Happened One Night was the cinema going public's first sight of a Capra masterpiece.
The story tells of a young woman, Ellie Andrews (Claudette Colbert), rebelling from her obscenely rich father, trying to return to a man she married to escape her claustrophobic home life. Short on money, but with plenty of determination she decides to travel cross country by road. It is at the start of this journey that she meets journalist Peter Warne (Clark Gable). Lucky Gal. You may know Clark Gable from his lead role in Gone With the Wind- here he plays a lighter version of Red, while opposite is a lead playing a much more palatable version of Scarlet O'Hara. In a previous review I spoke of the art of the slow build of a romance. It is unusual for me to root for two characters to fall in love (and for them to wake up to it) nearly as much as I did these guys. As time goes on you too fall in love with Gable's assured performance and root for Colbert to join you. This film was a smash hit with critics, audiences and the academy. It was the first to win all 'big five' Oscars (Picture, Director, Actor, Actress & Screenplay) and launched Gable, Colbert and Capra to new heights of fame. What makes this film work is undoubtably the chemistry and performances of the two stars and the confidence of the director to let them shine without the need for any clever photography or other distractions. The odd soft focus shot is about as creative as it gets. This was a story that the director was happy to tell through his leads and they rose to the occasion. It is important to note, for reasons I will soon come to, that Colbert held the reigns going in to filming: she reportedly took 5 times the fee that Gable received and insisted that filming be completed within 4 weeks to ensure she could go on a pre-arranged holiday. I love this. It adds a layer to her role as the rich girl and his as the down to earth (and recently fired) journalist trying to hit pay dirt. ...Which brings me to the modern take on all this. The gender roles are very old fashioned, as you might expect, with the wilting leading lady hardest to overlook. The very best scenes are when Colbert, the actress, outshines Ellie, the character- the actress who, as discussed earlier, called most of the shots and was in complete control of her destiny before and during the production. She often steals a scene with what is frankly a fairly weak script for an actress and that is when the magic happens. No doubt this is what won her Oscar. It is easy to fall into thinking Clark Gable leads in quality, but it's when Colbert STOPS looking down at her toes or gazing into Gables eyes hoping to be saved from her privileged life that you begin to really root for her, and invest yourself in the outcome of the film. To enjoy this picture you will have to forgive the light sexism in the form of Ellie's weaknesses and remember that the damsel in distress act is not as beguiling as the strength of the actress behind the performance. She is there, if you want to find her, and the experience will be all the richer for it. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
The story of Cimarron follows all-round awesome guy -lawyer, gent, sure shot who everyone looks up to in his journey west (“I know my bible cover to cover”). He brings along his initially reluctant wife (Sabra), adorable 5 year old son and stowaway home help, Isaiah. They help establish the town of Osage, seeing off Bandits and lowlifes as they go. This is a generous synopsis. The purpose of this blog is to assess films on the basis that a viewer, in our current age, may want to see it. What will they make of the very best that Hollywood had to offer in 1932? This, a western made in living memory of the time it was set (1889) dealt with “white settlement” of “Indian Oklahoma”. The introduction immediately had my back up. Some other historical films have been successful in lulling me into looking past political incorrectness, but just 2 minutes and 40 seconds in I am already resenting the use of naïve, lazy stereotypes to tell this story. It just took grinning shoeshine boy Isaiah (yes, he is black) and the telling of the happy opening up of a “new empire” at the expense of the ‘Indians’. This kind of film harks back to the origins of cinema: the fairground, where some would get a glimpse of the 'exotic'. And that is where it belongs, among the sawdust and elephant dung.
On seeing watermelons: "Yes Sir, I sure glad I came ta OaklyHomey"
Twenty minutes in and Isaiah is admiring watermelons, 30 minutes in and the ‘civilised’ hero, Yancey Cravat, is mocking a gentle, hard working man with a speech impediment for laughs with a little help from his wife, who later scolds her son for talking to “those dirty, filthy Indians”. As much as these may well have been attitudes shared by many white colonists, it does not make it any easier to stomach. The distinct lack of quality in production does it no favours and you end up with no reason to forgive it anything. Even if you wanted to. Which I don’t. Bafflingly, the man who himself tried to stake a claim on acres of Indian land in the opening scenes announces the Cherokee are “too smart to put anything in the contribution box of a race that has robbed him of his birth right”. Which land are you staking a claim to, Yancey? It can’t possibly be the moral high ground, can it? If so, you missed by a mile. But then, this is a man who shoots a mans dead while giving the towns first sermon from the pulpit and considered a hero for doing so.
Yancey later declares how deeply unfair the government have been in buying up more land from the Cherokee at a paltry $1.40 an acre and in the same breath declaring he wants to head off and stake his own claim on this new handout of Indian Land to white folk. Make up your minds, film folk, is this land grab good or bad? And so, our hero departs. He leaves Sabra, son and daughter and won't be seen for another 5 years: they are left to fend for themselves. His wife pines for him and converses with Levy the Jewish tailor (is that racial stereotype bingo yet?) who declares Yancey to be one of the men whose shoulders America is built upon. She does not disagree and continues to long for his return. Some hero this Yancey is turning out to be. Cimarron declares to know right from wrong, but just can’t resist appealing to the base instincts of cinema goers and assuming their ignorance. The makers can’t seem to decide which side of the fence they are on (or perhaps just don’t care, or understand) and so take up positions on both. As well as on it. All this added to slapdash storytelling leads to another movie-going experience much like The Broadway Melody: full of spectacle and very little substance. Having seen all of these tropes before, we, the modern viewers, are bored. I cannot believe that this could have been considered on a par with All Quiet on the Western Front which won the same award just one year earlier. The film tails off summing up the next 20 glorious years. Yancey follows his wanderlust and goes walkies again, the cast age, their town becomes a city and Sabra runs for governor. Will he return? Do I care? Everyone seems to be getting on just fine without him, if not better. Finally, his last appearance sees him commit one last act of bravery, saving hundreds of lives in a sacrificial act at an oil field. Despite a last bid by the film to use blunt force exposition to explain what a hero he was, the idea that a man who shirked responsibility so consistently throughout his life be someone to emulate and worship falls flat. Much like the film. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
The Academy went from choosing the light and airy The Broadway Melody as Best Picture in 1930 to next voting the dark nightmare of trench warfare, All Quiet on the Western Front. This is a movie that is difficult to extricate from the context in which it was made- the great depression had led the masses into a ruined world from which there was no escape and for which they bore no direct responsibility. The recent advent of sound also made it more possible than ever to give audiences a taste of trench warfare. Cinema’s roots lay in circus tents, films of trains rushing towards the camera sent audiences diving for cover at the turn of the century in scenes impossible to imagine for our screen-conditioned eyes. Sound now added to the immersive impact, and as ‘Wings’ had been so well received just 3 years earlier (Best Picture winner 1929, also set in the Great War) one can picture the people behind AQotWF anticipating the prospect of the impact of adding sound and dipping into the deep palette of pathos provided by the great depression shared by the viewing public. Now, I could go deeper into the fresh young recruits learning how to deal with the horrifying realities of war from the worldly, grisled trench veteran they cling to (Kat) being a reflection of the naivety and unpreparedness of the charleston dancing, jazz handed, chorus-girl filled 1920’s smashing face first into the Great Depression. We could also comment on the clear disdain throughout for authority figures: ridiculed, mocked and undermined; being an expression of the feeling of disappointment in what the industrial military complex gave them (WW1 & the depression). The “look where blind nationalism gets us” message is woven in throughout. Our boys swap home comforts for trench foot at the behest of the Kaiser, are scoffed at by their drafted comrades for having been foolish enough to be talked into volunteering to be in this predicament. As an American (or any allied) audience member you would find yourself rooting for the survival of these men, quite rightly undermining any blindly patriotic views. The last act of the film moves away from the front line to take a look at goings on back home when our protagonist (Albert) is given leave after suffering an injury to his side. He is despairing at the attitude taken by those around him, who have not tasted the bitter sharp end of war and proselytise more young recruits. In fact, it is in a classroom where he is reunited with the professor who convinced he and his classmates to go to war where he makes what would have been considered a criminal speech in wartime: “It is dirty and painful to die for your country. When it comes to dying for your country it is better not to die at all”. Returning early to his 2nd Company comrades willingly, as he can no longer bear being on home leave, the film closes gently but powerfully. The final shot is a super-imposition of two images: a cemetery of white crosses which stretches to the horizon and the 2nd company marching in the same direction, each glancing back to look directly down the camera as if to say goodbye. So what impression does this film leave the modern viewer? The effect lies in an unrelenting effort to drown you in the whistles of shells, bullets and mud, which is entirely successful. Long lasting tracking shots along the trenches as troops are mowed down bring you closer to each soldier’s death than an aerial shot of a busy, muddy field. The shot that lingers on the empty space left by a man going ‘over the top’ long enough for you to feel the unease brought on by a sense that within seconds his corpse will be filling that same space, and so it does. The elaborate camerawork and direction rarely distracts and often impresses, adding to the scale of the production. The multitude of characters and a dreaded feeling of ‘who’s next?’ only dissipates when they are on leave, far from the front line, and this adds to the audiences' emotional connection with the young Germans. Once again the stylised, theatrical acting (although massively toned down in comparison to previous Oscar winners) is still somewhat off-putting, especially as everything else seems so contemporary in its execution. I can see that the tone of this post reflects the sombre, earnest spirit of the film. There are moments intended to shock, but the overall effect is one of a relentless, unforgiving advance towards an inescapable fate whose only relief comes from no longer partaking in the experience. Although it did not make for comfortable viewing for the first two acts there is undeniably something very special about a picture which so successfully allows you to join the experience of its protagonists. This was well worth revisiting. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
This is much more what I expected of an aged Hollywood “Best Picture”. My hopes were high after ‘Wings’, and perhaps my inability to appreciate schmaltzy musicals is to blame, but this is definitely one for the ‘you had to be there’ pile. There was, however, much to say for The Broadway Melody at the time. It brought the magic of Broadway to a cinema near you, belters that most would previously only ever had heard over the wireless, disembodied, were now accompanied by the faces that sang them. It did suffer from more than its share of crowd-pleasing gimmicks- there were more than enough semi-clad ladies in fancy silk underwear changing backstage, or in a bathroom, or offstage, or in the hotel room, or bathing nude… come to think of it I am not sure there were any scenes that did not feature or were not bookended by scenes of chorus girls getting changed. The stand-out moment would have been the Technicolor sequence which will have wowed audiences of the 1930’s. Although it wasn’t the first to have colour. Nor sound. Nor even both. Much like Avatar, where once the 3D element is removed it becomes distinctly average, this film would have done well to be warmly received without the colour sequence. Worse still for the legacy of this picture, no colour print survives, so you will have to drift through it in black and white. The script was paper thin- simply serving to showcase the colour, sound, songs and chorus girls. There were some try-hard ‘zinger’ one-liners and yet another love triangle in this story of two sisters arriving in broadway trying to make it big. Although it does depart from the classic 3 act format (1. struggle to make it big 2. Have a modicum of success but a major setback 3. Fame and fortune abound) this may be down to the fact that the makers were too busy trying to feature all the crowd-pulling features to let the plot get in the way. With the director doing a professional by the numbers job (although much lauded by critics at the time, so maybe the lens of time I see this through does poor Harry Beaumont a disservice), scripts in their early days of evolution (this was only the first ‘talkie’ to win an Oscar- as only the 2nd Oscar this is perhaps a cheap statistic!) and camera work generally limited to “Can we get their legs AND faces in every shot?” this is one you might avoid, save to get the gist of early musicals. It was a total victory at the box office. Many critics celebrated its sure-fire recipe to make money before general release, strong performances from the leads, technical gimmicks and a decent score cemented financial success and were even enough to win it the Oscar. The first all-colour talking movie had only come out the year before, but The Broadway Melody came with all the added magic and titillation of Broadway. “Great performances & plenty of sex!” squealed one sweaty-palmed critic for Variety. He was to be rewarded with 3 sequels over the next 10 years, whether he liked them or not. To the modern eye this ain’t no hit, it has aged badly and stands as a testament to how a film can generate money and win awards by pushing all the right buttons on the cash register. |
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AuthorPablo Griffiths is a man with a passion for many things. He has recently taken an interest in writing about film, and himself in the third person. |