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 the winner of the BAFTA Award for Best Film
I had just seen a celebrated movie which despite its undeniable beauty and technical accomplishment left me cold. There was no substance to it, no ambiguity, no call for any real involvement on my part. Then I strolled into “Three Billboards”. What I found in this film was a nuanced experience, one that offered you a tale that takes place in the aftermath of a killing, just after the dust had settled in this small rural community. The events that unfold are instigated by, and told from the perspective of, the mother of the victim: you are beside her as she fights to ensure that justice is served on behalf of her daughter. When a character's motives are self-evident but it is unclear how far they are willing to go we arrive in places like Ebbing, Missouri, in the presence of Mildred. An interesting thing happens when an underdog refuses to abide by societal norms for behaviour: it is disarming. It becomes her superpower. In the hands a great actor giving an unfalteringly great performance this unpredictability has a magical effect on both the people of her town and of the audience. Neither is left unchallenged. Mildred has been let down by the men in her life (played by Woody Harrelson, Sam Rockwell & John Hawkes) and the town just wants to quietly forget that such barbarity could occur. McDormand delivers Mildred, in her last ditch efforts, with as much humour as intensity and this wholly wins us over. We're behind her, beside her as she ploughs a furrow, but never able to quite keep up enough to see where she might turn next. We root for her far and beyond the point at which we would normally question our devotion, but after what she has been through who can blame us. It is hard to resist the temptation to jump to comparisons with Ripley (Sigourney Weaver in Aliens) or Susan Sarandon (Louise in Thelma & Louise), but the truth is that this only tells half the story: they are just two other well written roles for women who feature a rounded character who happens to be realistic portrayal of woman at the end of her tether (and largely driven there by men). All the comparison serves to do is highlight how few and far between these roles are in mainstream American Cinema. Do we honestly think this is a proportional representation of reality or even of our interest in this aspect of reality? It must be hard for an actor like Frances McDormand- there is no doubt that she has the ability to rival any other in the trade, but alas, she is a woman. Roles for male leads come along often enough that a man at the top of his game will be able to pick from a host of juicy well financed films, all varied in their demands but handsomely rewarded. He will often have studios writing films with him in mind for the lead. A woman at the same heights will still have to bide her time, waiting for a project like this to come her way. Since 2008 McDormand has had one other lead role. This is most likely down to being in a position where she can pick and choose her roles now and how much time she wants to devote to acting. She works when there's good enough material to work with. This actor won the Oscar for best actress in 1997 (Fargo) and 2018 (Three Billboards) and has been nominated by the academy 5 times. Why would you NOT write roles for her? She reflects that she is cast as an outsider in both life and art (there's a more in depth take on it in this interview: https://bit.ly/2HhbRF4). My take is that she's right and male writers don't quite know what to do with her (just 14% of writers in the top 500 films were women). And it still took a man to write Three Billboards. I don't think that there is an audience that would not enjoy this picture. It has a taste of everything anyone could ask for. Aside from a taste of the aforementioned Ridley Scott masterpieces it even has a little sprinkling of Death Wish (1974). That's pretty broad. The acting is superb from top to bottom, the world taught and real, the writing exemplary in how to produce for the masses without dumbing or talking down. It feels that although little about this film is new, the Writer/Director (Martin McDonagh) has discovered a rich seam in a long tradition of straight talking storytelling. I for one hope that he continues to mine it as thoughtfully and successfully as he has here and that its honesty and power continue to capture audiences as they do in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
A picture about and of divorce in 1970’s New York. The most civilised place to end a marriage, at that time. Kramer vs Kramer is a stunning snapshot in time of how a marriage might fail in a world where men and women could both be educated to a similarly high degree. Each were taught to expect that they could remain equal partners in life, but would then face the reality that society still expected women to fulfil a certain role. That role required both to revert to traditional breadwinner/homemaker stereotypes which were all too easy to slip into. This clash of expectations is depicted through the story of the Kramers, Mr (Dustin Hoffman) & Mrs (Meryl Streep). These two actors are, perhaps, the finest of their generation and although Hoffman was at the peak of his powers this was Streep's first motion picture. I was astounded to find this out after watching and after hearing how she repeatedly pressed for more depth in Mrs K's character (I like to research post-viewing). Her first film. It could be argued that Streep has never dipped below the heights reached in this performance, a debut to be envied. The performances of the leads were delivered in their trademark naturalistic, usually method, style and demand high praise. I am happy to add to a pile of hysterically positive reviews that continues to grow nearly 40 years after the release. All this praise for the leads and the supporting cast was just as strong. Justin Henry (as their son, Billy Kramer- one of the youngest to be nominated for the Best Actor statuette) and Jane Alexander also put in an unshakeable effort. This leads me to the inevitable conclusion that the Director (Robert Benton) deserves his fair share of praise. Probably not a name you are too familiar with, but you will certainly recognise his credits as a writer: Bonnie and Clyde; What’s Up, Doc?; Superman (1979- the original). He has been involved in very few projects since, which is a shame for us. His choice of when to use close-ups, medium and wide shots are so natural that you quite honestly forget you are watching a film. The longest shots by far are of the married couple meeting in the park when Mr K. hands Billy over to Mrs K. and Billy runs from him to her, leaving Mr K. standing alone, the shot from a distance making him smaller and more alone than anyone else has been in the film up to that point. A director whose naturalistic style perfectly complimented the production. We are invited in to the conversations with close ups, into the courtroom by placing us in the public gallery, every scene has carefully chosen angles to provide a view that one might have if they were actually present. The sexual politics are dated, but to the modern viewer this actually aides the piece. The idea of this being a snapshot in time is compounded by the traditional (/simplistic) approach by the courts. Mr K. arguing with the court “why can’t a woman have the same ambitions as a man?” and suggesting that we are not set up as a society to enable this without a significant amount of express willingness from everyone directly involved (spouse, employer, families, friends). Hearing this from Mr. K makes him heroic, although he is simply arguing for a logical approach. “How reasonable of him!” we exclaim, whereas had the exact same argument been put by Mrs K our attitude may well have been to think that there’s probably a bit of self interest there. This exposes the impossible situation mothers found (and find) themselves in: “Tsk. How privileged she is, to argue for equality!”. Juxtaposing this with the line “what makes a woman a better parent…because of her sex?” in the same speech moments later gives everyone pause for thought to evaluate whether their opinion on the matter comes from personal experience or a logical approach. The film is suggesting that we can’t possibly say what is right for the child (or the couple) by applying blanket statements like “A mother makes a better parent” or “a child needs their father’s presence no matter what”, but that we should have an approach which takes the rights and merits of each person and their position on a case by case basis, regardless of assumptions we make based on sex. This went against the grain of a system which, at least in part, made (/makes) divorce difficult in order discourage it. While singing its praises, we should also be aware of the recently exposed controversies surrounding the method acting on set. Hoffman is alleged to have slapped Streep in a scene, repeatedly raised the recent death of her real-life fiancé to heighten emotion and also smashed a wine glass within inches of her face (see my handmade GIF, above) without any warning or previous discussion, in order to illicit what he thought would be raw emotion. She has since mentioned it as an unfortunate by product of the art (“when you're an actor, you're in a scene, you have to feel free”… but asserted that he “overstepped”). This is extremely magnanimous, considering that she was virtually powerless as a woman in her first ever movie role to confront a man as powerful (whether he was aware of it or not) and as well respected as Hoffman was at the time. It is a shame that the sexual politics of the production were not as forward thinking or understanding as that of the film itself, but this was long before #MeToo. Streep, playing an absent mother and also absent from many of the scenes, had to fight for her character in production to be presented in a more sympathetic light. Much of the credit for the film’s success should go her way, as with this ambiguity (not a simple good father vs bad mother angle, which the script tended towards) we find ourselves torn and more willing to understand both parties. That is largely where the film’s success lies: there is no denying that this is a story of both parents’ struggles told from the father's perspective, but both sides are given oxygen in the final act. This allows you to make of the denouement what you will. It is a fine balancing act for writer/director Benton. We are clearly invited to reach a certain conclusion on watching it but there is an effort to allow you to reach it by yourself, which is the most rewarding of feelings for an audience. Kramer vs Kramer may be an Oscar best picture winner which passed you by. Neither the topic (divorce) nor the poster (top) are inspiring or inviting and it is rarely referred to as ‘one to watch’. But this is an ensemble effort executed with aplomb. Knowing that equal credit is due to all those involved only adds to the big picture and overall sense of satisfaction. I have little doubt that you will be glad you took the time to watch it, and is rare that one can say this with such confidence. With thanks to Carolina Lins who requested this review
EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
Content advice: Alcohol abuse
This picture doesn’t hold back. From the opening shot of anguished glances out of a bedroom window and music designed to make you feel deeply uneasy you know that this is no run of the mill drama. This is noir. Billy Wilder wrote and directed this, and you can see the hand of a master at work on a passion project. He wrote this with a writer friend and colleague in mind (a certain Raymond Chandler), someone he felt could do with seeing himself and his alcoholism as others did. Don Birnam (Ray Milland) is a man whose master is drink, is only happy when taking orders from the bottle and people just seem to get in his way. The detail in each shot, street scenes shot with hidden cameras to ensure that they could have real life passing by, no extras, no stiffness. Wilder sought naturalism, a flow, which although he perfected later in films such as ‘Some Like it Hot’ he was already well on the way. He was an innovator, too- taking a risk in allowing a new electronic instrument which would haunt many a film after this, the theremin. It dominates the score with a suffocating sense of foreboding and tied in the magical dark influence of alcohol on Don. The director also introduced what appeared to be an early version of a new shot: as Don walks down the road you see superimposed behind and around him the places he drunkenly stumbles past, copied countless times in cinema and TV since. Ray Milland’s performance is tense and tight when sober, perhaps overly so, but entirely successful in portraying the constant battle against the urge to drink or for his next drink, depending on which way he sways. When drunk he eases into a smoother, lilting performance with a touch of melancholy, aptly reflecting his resignation to yet another defeat, yet another time where he felt he simply wasn’t strong enough. Much like alcoholism, the film ebbs and flows. This film has a feel of the sea, the rocking, the relentless power of the disease, unstoppable even when the three principles are on rare occasions united against it. This is undoubtedly a compassionate film which can be commended for showing the alcoholic as a victim of a disease: simultaneously being the only one with the power to free themselves while also being the last person they themselves would want to give that power to. The attitudes depicted in the film are shockingly modern- I say shocking because this film, made nearly 80(!) years ago shows how despite all our advances in therapy, technology and medicine people suffer in much the same way from the sickness and the attitudes towards it. They are also still surrounded by loved ones who also suffer, willing but helpless, sometimes depicted unwittingly, haplessly enabling the addiction. I have found a few films from early cinema where the melodrama distracts from the story, that the storytelling might have been aided for a modern audience with a little more naturalism (All Quiet on the Western Front is one). Here the story’s effect is heightened by the melodramatic acting style- film noir is often built on it, and it is so woven into the fabric of this picture that it only adds to the power it still holds over its audience. Although the credits roll, we are left in no doubt that the tale doesn’t end there. This is one of 52 weekends that year and Don will have to fight for every last one of them. The message sent is one of hope, but doesn’t leave reality behind. It may be that if we keep up the fight, side by side, there are more victories than defeats. But no guarantees, and this is a battle for life. We’re with you Don, it was Wilder who put us there, and I am grateful he did.
With thanks to Tom Gore who requested this review
EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
This is a musical about a woman's coming of age. But this is not a coming of age we would recognise in today's world- this teenager has no angst, she is happy all the time and her transition to womanhood is thanks to her aunt who runs a one woman finishing school. The men that surround her (Honore played by Maurice Chevalier, and Louis Jourdan as Gaston) think themselves sharks in a pond of lady-fish known as 'Gay Paris'. Although I do wonder if they mis-spelled 'Gaudy'. Technicolor, the company that were behind the colour revolution in Hollywood may also have been behind the set design... much like Around the World in 80 Days which suffered from the same headache-inducing promotion of scarlet reds, panther pinks and canary yellows. Now, this film was clearly made in another age. The innocence in having 60 year old Chevalier sing an opening song called 'thank heaven for little girls' directed a schoolgirls in uniform without thinking it might come across as creepy... especially since you hear him declare that he loves to collect pretty young things. The men are free to galavant, they brag about attempted suicides from the women they have spurned and do so while somehow receiving favourable treatment from the director who expects us to applaud and admire them. The chaos caused by young Gigi having the presence of mind to turn down Gaston's offer of marriage in the film only highlighted just how insane the idea of a woman having her own will is in this universe they all inhabit. Once again, this was a triumph for a film providing audiences with an experience they could not get close to anywhere else. Parisian high society of the turn of the century had taken on a mythical status- mentions of the Moulin Rouge, Monte Carlo... and all in colour. Once again, the spectacle trumped quality. The film is entertaining enough, if you can get around lines like "So fresh, so eager, so... young!" from pensionable men aimed at young teens in school uniform. The soundtrack contains memorable numbers, although not always for the right reasons. The sets and locations are beautiful, costumes once again garish to remind you that the film is in colour (I KNOW!). At least there were no unnecessarily overlong song and dance numbers and there was at least an effort to tell a story. But it was all just a bit dull. By the end you are struggling to understand why anyone would go for Gaston, a spoilt rich boy who having mistreated every woman in town can't seem to pin down how he feels about Gigi. With more back-and-forthing than a metronome (and just as much predictability) he finally settles on proposing, by which time the correct response from Gigi and her aunts would have been to "sling yer 'ook, mister." Surely it'll be a short-lived engagement, nil chance of marriage, less chance of fidelity? But despite the propaganda and conditioning process she has been through, Gigi is very clear on what she is getting herself into. In her words: "I'd rather be miserable with you than miserable apart." She has little choice either way. Depressingly, she may as well benefit from the material gains brought by this unfortunate alliance. And so it ends. Unless you are writing a masters on the sanitisation of predatory male figures in historical cinema you too will want to avoid it. EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
At the time, 80 Days Around the World was released with the man behind it being chased by creditors for repayment of the massive debt incurred by his production (Michael Todd, a broadway producer who had never been involved in the making of a film before). With a paid cast of nearly 70,000 people and 8,000 animals this was certainly a production of epic proportions. It was a film with a budget of $6,000,000, shot on locations over 3 continents and even used a new filming technique ("Todd-AO") which allowed it to be filmed in widescreen on one lens and projected onto a curved screen, producing a more immersive experience for the audience. The gamble clearly worked- it made its money back nearly six times over and of course won the academy's Best Picture Oscar of 1957. Why were audiences so taken with it? Well, if this film has one thing in spades, it is spectacle. Audiences settling into the colour era which began 10 years before could witness a Jules Verne story, written 100 years before, come to life and take place all around them. There is a long air balloon sequence inserted solely to showcase the stunning palace gardens of France, Spanish bullfighting sequence which lasts a full ten minutes, train mounted cameras showing us countryside scenes from the asian subcontinent featuring elephants and other exotic animals. None of this has much bearing on the story, but are successful in providing us with sights we would almost certainly never have witnessed, had we seen this film in the 1950s. Around the World in 80 days was ambitious in its scale, technically and even quite daring in its technicolor portrayal of the past.
Sadly, this is the perfect of example of a film whose charm and success appear largely to have been lost in the 50 years since it was released. Perversely, the very things which made it so special 50 years ago are now precisely the things that now stand against it:
Although I cannot find any reference as to why the 'fisheye lens' effect dropped in and out throughout the movie, I would suspect it was down to the Todd-AO effect. Michael Todd, the man behind the movie, funded development of this, which he believed to be a more immersive experience: the screen curved subtly around the moviegoing audience. It is now impossible to see it as intended as the technology was superseded by IMAX tech and eventually lost. As the first widescreen film to be filmed through one lens (previous 'cinemascope' films required a 3 lens camera and other technical info you are probably not as interested in hearing about as I was) this was an achievement which set a standard still around today- an early version of widescreen IMAX. Unfortunately, watching it now, the fisheye effect remains in many scenes and, perversely, reminds you that you are watching a film rather than immersing you. Not a good thing to say about any movie.
The film spends the first 2 hours introducing you to cultures that you my not have been familiar with in the 1950s, which would have been a huge draw, especially since it was all in colour. The makers had the power to show sights which few in the world could boast to having seen all of. Alas, they chose to use this power to show stereotypes of all nationalities. In its favour is the fact that they spared no nation from this process, but when the stereotype of the British was someone who kept good time, had good manners and kept his cool while the Chinese come out smelling of opium (or other such intoxicants), Native Americans languished in the 'Redskins' narrative and in Japan all women were dressed as Geishas you find yourself less inclined to give it the benefit of the doubt.
Even at the time, Around the World in 80 Days was considered to be 'Light Entertainment', for the masses and certainly not worthy or highbrow contemplation. Nonetheless, it was venerated by the academy, winning 5 Oscars. It is also fair to say that given that there was no expense spared (and it showed) audiences are likely to have come out of the cinema feeling that they certainly got their moneys worth, regardless of whether the script was written by an overzealous 14 year old. It could have been, but wasn't.
Actin performances are perfectly fine- there is only so much an actor can do with a script whose highlights are long panning shots of the Asian and American countrysides from trains. Much to my surprise I discovered that Cantinflas (playing Passepartout) won the Golden Globe for best actor, quite an achievement considering he probably spoke fewer than 100 words. Although I heard Chaplin was a fan of his work in Latin American cinema.
In the final act the story makes an appearance. Finally, the story comes alive. Our travellers make it to the states and after a fracas with some 'injuns' (and before that the most hilarious cameo ever, from Frank Sinatra, who appears to have had his lines cut) the threat of not completing their journey rears its head. In summary, the first 2.5 hours are a slow motion tour of someones idea of the concept of 'foreign', but the ending was well orchestrated. You could accuse the film of using that old cinematic trick of convincing an audience they have seen a good film by inserting 25 minutes of decent plot and dialogue just before they go home, so it stays with them. Unfortunately for me, the first two acts were too overlong to forget, so I would lean towards a rating of 'bearable relic'. Around the world in 80 Days is to be avoided, if you have a choice.
With no thanks whatsoever to Dr. Louis Bayman who requested this review. :/
EveryBestPicture.com revisits this Oscar Best Picture winner
First off, I should come clean and declare my undying love for almost everything that Guillermo del Toro, the director, does. I also hold a belief that Sally Hawkins can do no wrong. Would it help if I hereby half-heartedly swear that I will not allow this bias to affect this piece?
The Shape of Water is set in an artificial early 1960s which has been so well constructed that initially the experience is reminiscent of watching Edward Scissorhands, in which there was a similar use of americana. But here no one is pretending they live in a perfect world, in fact quite the opposite: every character is unhappy with their existence and would like change. The homes are in need of repairs, cluttered and dark. With few exceptions, exteriors are always a grey or night-time cityscape. The use of swearing in a setting so often used to imply wholesomeness is unsurprisingly jarring, and rams home that this is no idyll. Opening in an underwater dream sequence and never dropping a sometimes overbearing blue, green and turquoise theme, this undersea effect is tied together very early on and never quite leaves you. Bizarrely, I only recently pulled a horrific, mismatched, avocado bathroom suite from the same period out of my home- the colours and preponderance of tiles in every scene kept taking me back to that experience. Odd, but it inadvertently highlighted to me just how many rooms were tiled in this film... a nod, no doubt, to how each of the two main characters worlds reflected one another. This is made express a little later in a speech from Elisa on how the river god sees her for who she is, not what she is. So far so good. A beautifully constructed backdrop, finely crafted to highlight subplot and themes that are hinted at early and later exposed fully. Characters from minorities lead (which we have all been clamouring for) whose ethnicity / minority status is incidental rather than integral to their reason for being in the film. An immersive (pun intended) overall experience. So why do I come away from this film feeling hugely let down? The Shape of Water was nominated for the best screenplay Oscar, but this stamp of approval baffles me. The plot was fairly standard- Mute cleaner in military facility meets mistreated prisoner (who happens to be an amazonian river god), they fall in love, she finds out that the malevolent authorities want to vivisect him in order to better understand his anatomy, she helps him escape with the help of a work colleague and her neighbour. Nothing more complex than that. Fine. There are supernova sized holes in this reality which make it difficult to follow the logic of the film. The problem is not that fantastical things are happening in a fantasy film: the problem is that in order for a fantasy film to work you have to believe in the world created. Whether sci-fi, superhero or other there has to be an explanation for the rules that it has itself established to be broken. Also, you have to be able to relate to a character's decisions and reactions. Elisa reveals to Zelda that she is having sex with the creature they freed the night before with a smirk and a glance. How Zelda interpreted that glance as "I had sex with the fish man" I don't know. But, they had to keep the plot moving and so that's the way the scene played out. In such a meticulously constructed reality (visually) we are confronted with such leaps of logic in the story that our connection with the characters is loosened, and long before the end I no longer cared to see how they reached their clearly pre-ordained fate. No amount of sense would stop it getting there. The purpose of this blog is largely to revisit older movies and ask 'how does this film look to a contemporary audience?'. For instance is it politically or socially justifiable to have stereotypes if a 1930's western is REALLY good, despite them? Is this even possible? Sadly, and perhaps surprisingly, the 2018 addition to the list of best picture winners has some glaring issues which cannot be ignored: The minority characters are a male gay artist (played by a straight white male) and a hispanic cleaner (played by a white English woman). This troubles me. Why did the cleaner have to be hispanic? If she had to be hispanic, why choose a white English woman to play her? There was a huge fuss recently about the new Hellboy film in which a white actor (Ed Skrein) turned down a key role when he was alerted to the original comic material which depicted his character as an asian dude. He was naturally commended for doing so. How is Sally Hawkins playing Elisa Esposito any different? This, and having the stereotypes of a hispanic and African-American cleaners reinforcing the idea that this is where 'these people' belong on the big screen was uncomfortable. Del Toro co-wrote the script for the film, why not just either change her background or cast a hispanic actress? Really, the fundamental flaws lie in the writing of the characters. When it is written into the script that the level of reaction from a jaded cleaner on hearing that her best mate is having interspecies sex with a hitherto unknown humanoid species is "Oh, how exactly did that happen? Did he have a wiener?", and the delivery is on a par with the reaction someone might give on hearing their tinder date likes messy food play, there is something seriously wrong. I can't relate. If it were set in a galaxy far far away it would make sense. But we were told this was earth, nineteen sixty something... Some speak of how this film has beautifully interwoven references to previous films while I spoke of a message laden aesthetic created for a glutton of subtext, but in the end I struggled to get past the unrealistic responses to situations the characters found themselves in just to keep the plot moving towards its inevitable conclusion. Motivations and actions must be justifiable and here they were not. I could not help feeling that if they had paid as much attention to ensuring the characters actions made sense as they did to the films aesthetic then we would have had another masterpiece. 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
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. 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. |
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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. |