2019 was not a vintage year for Hollywood, and the Oscars made sure we will not forget this fact any time soon.

The nominations for Best Picture this year were the winner, “Green Book”, an entertaining enough “BlacKkKlansman”, cringe-fest “Bohemian Rhapsody” which hung on the lead’s brilliant impression of Freddy Mercury, blockbuster “Black Panther”, the earnest “A Star is Born”, European costume drama “The Favourite” and “Roma” which could never win in this category as it was Mexican, a Netflix film and the best film of the year.

The top three of these were not Hollywood productions and therefore outsiders, of those left many were surprised to see Green Book walk away with the much coveted little gold statuette. But why?

This ‘based on a true story’ tale, like any good TV movie, is that of a chapter of Dr Don Shirley’s life. Having been invited to study in the elite Leningrad Conservatory in the Soviet Union, the first black person to do so, we find this piano virtuoso embarking on a tour of the ‘deep south’. His record label employ a minder (Frank Vellelonga, or Tony Lip as his largely Mafiosi friends and acquaintances call him) whose duty it is to drive him from one engagement to the next, and to ensure that he is not way-laid by southern racists with the help of the ‘Green Book’- a guide for black drivers in the segregated south.

​Little about this film stands out as being unworthy of Oscar greatness- the premise has won before: an ‘interracial’ pair drove through the southern states in Driving Miss Daisy, 1989, making similar racial harmony pit stops along the injustice highlighted freeway. There is even a similar ‘driver stops to take a pee, much to the passenger’s horror’ scene. This may well become a trope.

My consternation in this pick lies in the sheer lack of quality. This is a middle of the road excursion. It never slips into the intellectual fast lane, nor does it stop to admire the scenery. It just pootles along introducing a number of lazily constructed stereotypes as characters (Italian immigrants built around the “Forgeddaboudit” persona of the mafia heyday, with no other angle explored). The Italian community featured could well have been on day release from a comedy sketch (Key & Peele have one that comes to mind). There are no events of note, nothing unexpected happens (not even the discovery that Dr Shirley has sexual experiences with men really raises an eyebrow, telegraphed as it was by the occasional pursing of the lips by Mahershala Ali in the role of the good doctor).

The film is even shot in such a disappointingly perfunctory way that I couldn't describe it as shoot by numbers. Tony writes home to his wife “I never knew how very beautiful this country was”, and his droning voiceover is accompanied by a shot of a pretty average looking pasture. No depth, no scope, no beauty. This could not have been hard to do, surely? The viewer wonders what inspired Tony to write those words and why the filmmakers neglected to use the medium of film to share such a visual feast.

​Most disappointing of all was the simplistic way the film dealt with the central issue of prejudice is about as safe and by-the-book as it can possibly be. While travelling through Kentucky, our Italian American driver spots a Kentucky fried chicken: “IN KENTUCKY! When’s that ever gonna happen?!”. Dr Don Shirley, when faced with the culinary experience in question asserts, nonplussed, “I have never had fried chicken in my life.” The first effect is the obvious: The audience watches Tony’s surprise and is encouraged to shake heads and chuckle at his absurd generalisation that “You people love the fried chicken, the grits and the collared greens…”
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“Oh Tony” (the viewer declares), “if only you could see yourself through my 21st century eyes.” The racist assumption of “what THEY eat” is ridiculed. Fair enough, but it is not exactly breaking the surface. Just ten viewing minutes later the two of them are presented with a meal by the white southern gentlefolk who “whipped up a special menu in honour of our guest… home cooked fried chicken!”. We are once again invited to roll our eyes.

I have to say, this is the most disappointing of all the Oscar winners I have yet seen. A winner should highlight some kind of achievement in a film, of ANY description, and quite honestly I am baffled as to what about this film might have stood out to anyone.

Meh.

As the film begins, with its palette of warm colours and the soft sounds of that unmistakable theme, it was not long before I settled into the mood. This is no accident.

The direction from Bruce Beresford, although on the surface fairly unadventurous, contains some subtle successes. This film is set in Atlanta, Georgia, in one of the 'cotton states' or ‘the deep south’. The suggestion of the accompanying heat is entirely successful, with no need for anyone to mention it or mop their brow, or even lingering shots of ceiling fans. Beresford does two things simultaneously: we (the viewer, through camera placement) are placed in the shade from the opening shot; everywhere we look the refuge of shade is available. Interiors are shot in very low, natural light, which allowed us to feel protected from the stifling heat. Combining this with the soft focus and nostalgic feel took me back to my childhood holidays in the summer heat in Spain when we would shut out the sun to keep the heat at bay. The sense of nostalgia enhanced my viewing comfort. I may never have been to the Southern States of America, but was being told 'you know what it was like, and it felt good'. Call me a sucker, but this worked. For now.
 
The chemistry between the three principals (Jessica Tandy, Morgan Freeman and Dan Ackroyd) is pitch perfect. Although each character is heavily leaning towards stereotypes their edges were greatly softened by the depth in quality of the performances. This was a low budget picture based on an off-broadway play, the whole production cost under $8m (blockbusters typically set studios back $25m-$40m at the time) and it relied heavily on the actors, much like any three handed play would. This was Freeman’s breakthrough movie, Tandy (incidentally born not far from my home in north London) had been honing her talent as a character actor in similar roles, successfully, for years (Batteries Not Included, Coccoon and others). This was a rare chance to take the lead in a script based on a pulitzer prize winning play (1988) no less and her shoulders on that slender frame were more than ample enough to take the weight. She barely broke a sweat.

The titular Miss Daisy is an elderly Jewish woman who after crashing her Cadillac pulling out of the driveway is unable to get behind the wheel again. Her son Boolie (Ackroyd) employs elderly African American chauffer, Hoke (Freeman), to drive her. Hoke’s gentle but persuasive manner wins out over her stubbornness over the course of the film and in the process barriers of race and class become less important to them.

So on to the more troubling aspect- the issue of race. Miss Daisy is rich and Jewish, Hoke is African American and comparitively poor. This offers no challenge to the status quo of the American South of the 1960’s when segregation was the order of the day nor does it oppose the simplistic stereotypes of rich Jew, poor black. It is a film based on a play based on a true story, and it is not that I suggest that every film in this setting should offer up resistance, but here is where I return to the success of creating a warm nostalgic feel that is, in effect, celebrating the age. This is a concept I am very familiar with. Having had grandparents of a similar class to Miss Daisy (albeit in Spain) who had maids, a chauffer a dressmaker and other staff I recognise the relationships portrayed and the similar curt attitude taken by the employer. It never sat well with me and watching this film brought that unease back, no doubt wholly unintentionally. However, I do not think anyone else will be immune to this unease.
 
There are a number of devices used to soften this nagging disquiet. Miss Daisy tries to rubbish Hoke’s assertion that she is rich, explaining that she has lived through poverty of the worst kind. “But you doing alright now, aintcha?” Hoke retorts. Also, in a sense, both characters would be considered to be from ethnic minorities in Georgia, where the film is set.

This is emphasized by a scene in which the highway patrol question them, having racially profiled Hoke as he stood by the car apparently alone (having not yet seen Miss Daisy). After having examined their license and registration to ascertain all was in order, established that she was Jewish, and allowing them to pull away you hear one officer remark to the other “An old nigger and an old Jew woman taking off down the road together. That is one sorry sight”. This immediately elicits sympathy from the audience for Miss Daisy, despite her most endearing moments so far being her cruel but humorous wit.
Finally the film’s true nature surfaces- her temple is bombed and this scene is quickly followed by Hoke recounting a tale of how he found a friend's father hanging from a tree, tying their status’ together as targets for the racial hatred that pervaded.​

​So although there is no overt challenge to the way things were, beyond disapproval, this movie is intended as a snapshot into how in such a hostile environment there can exist personal connections which transcend the boundaries that society lays down. I must say, it is difficult to untangle the good intentions from the stereotypes in this movie (including Miss Daisy’s housekeeper being little more than a chicken eating ‘Mammy Archetype’). We learn almost nothing of the personal life of Hoke, never seeing his home, meeting his family or friends.

​It is a sympathetic story, but told from the white character's perspective, a perspective that apparently has no interest in finding any more out about Hoke beyond what he does for his white employers. As well made and acted as this picture is, it does not quite do enough to escape that awareness bestowed upon us over the last 30 years. Re watching it has suggested to me that we have come a fair distance if this was considered to be a film to undermine racial tensions. I believe it to be more a film to make a certain section of white American society feel better about themselves for interacting in a civilised manner with people of other races, which really should be a given.