OVP: The Conversation (1974)

Film: The Conversation (1974)

Stars: Gene Hackman, John Cazale, Allen Garfield, Cindy Williams, Frederic Forrest, Harrison Ford, Teri Garr

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

Oscar History: 3 nominations (Best Picture, Original Screenplay, Sound)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2026 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the men & women who created the Boom!-Pow!-Bang! action films that would come to dominate the Blockbuster Era of cinema.  This month, our focus is on Harrison Ford: click here to learn more about Mr. Ford (and why I picked him), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Harrison Ford's public persona has long been of a man who didn't really want to be a movie star.  A lot of this, I have long-suspected, is at least partially untrue (otherwise why do it, especially when he became bonkers rich & didn't really need to do it anymore...after all, his wife is also a talented actor who now rarely works).  But it is interesting that Ford's fame came relatively late.  The role that made him a movie star was Star Wars, which was released just days before his 35th birthday. For comparison's sake with some of his 1970's peers, Al Pacino at that age had several Oscar nominations and the Godfather franchise, Dustin Hoffman had been Ben Braddock & Ratso Rizzo, and Jack Nicholson & Peter Fonda had both boarded a motorcycle into legend.  Ford spent much of the 1970's balancing his time between small roles in movies and making furniture for people like Joan Didion, Valerie Harper, & George Lucas.  Ford's movie career, though, is really interesting because he appeared in a lot of interesting movies, among them Michelangelo Antonioni's controversial Zabriskie Point, and three Best Picture nominees: American Graffiti, Apocalypse Now, and today's film The Conversation.  For all of the talk about Ford at one point before Han Solo nearly quitting the industry to work as a high-profile carpenter, the more intriguing idea might be what he did in this film: taking on the role of distinctive, very handsome character actor in important auteur-driven features.

(Spoilers Ahead) The Conversation is a movie best headed into with you knowing as little as is humanly possible, so while I provide a spoiler alert on all of my reviews because I generally want to know as little as possible about all movies I'm going to, this one in particular it helps to go in blind so I'll reiterate that now.  The movie follows Harry Caul (Hackman), a man who runs a service that essentially follows people and records them for money (it is not lost on me that The Conversation, which competed with Chinatown for Best Picture in 1974, bears a striking resemblance to the Roman Polanski film as both are about private investigators who uncover more than they expected from a routine case).  Unlike Jake Gittes, Harry Caul does not advertise and is not well-known for his work.  He is, instead, anonymous to the point of unhealthy, keeping everything about him at a distance to the point his girlfriend (Garr) doesn't ever visit his apartment and he doesn't even have his own phone.  This is driven by wanting to avoid retribution, but also the very real threat of violence in his career.  Similar to Chinatown (again) there are allusions to a previous case throughout the film that the audience only understands to be too horrific to mention, and that haunt both detectives to the point they are constantly in fear of repeating it.

The Conversation is considered a landmark film, but because Francis Ford Coppola had it come out the same year The Godfather, Part II (one of the greatest movies ever made), it always feels like it doesn't get its due, and so I wasn't entirely sure what to expect headed into this-would it be a really handsome movie, one that stands up but can't compare with a picture as perfect as Godfather II, or would it be just as exceptional.  Again, similar to Chinatown, it's not clear until the last moments what's happening, and it's also not clear where The Conversation will land in that comparison.  But as the movie concludes, you realize it's also a true masterpiece.  We understand as the film ends that Harry has no idea what he's walked into, and what he's helped cause.  He assumes that the conversation between Frederic Forrest & Cindy Williams at the beginning of the movie is of a couple that might be having an affair, and becomes concerned when he uncovers (while listening to the clips that he initially won't hand over to a man known as "the Director's" assistant without first meeting the Director himself) that a part of the clips that he couldn't initially hear says "he'd kill us if he got the chance."  When he meets the Director (played by an uncredited Robert Duvall) he becomes worried for the young couple's safety as it's clear Cindy Williams is the Director's wife.  But as we learn in the waning moments of the film, he's missed something on the tapes-the emphasis in Forrest's reading of the word "us."

Because as the film ends, it's a case where Frederic Forrest has murdered Robert Duvall's husband with help from his lover, leaving all of the money (and secret organization he has) to Cindy Williams, and leaving them the opportunity to end up together.  The movie's sound work is legendary (and Oscar-nominated) for a reason, as not only is the entire setup with Hackman's Harry filled with us getting whirs & blurs from the recording equipment, but also the film tells in flashback narrative things the audience will have missed.  The film clearly inspired everything from The Usual Suspects to Severance (which borrows heavily from The Conversation's score), and you see why-this is a movie that shows paranoia is justified...and cannot be resolved.  We end the movie with Harry knowing he is being watched, knowing that he can't escape or be safely private...and having to give in to that to not go mad.

Harrison Ford's role is a key component & a crucial part of this story, even if he's only in about three scenes.  He plays the Director's assistant, and plays him with a level of bureaucratic cool that you kind of just assume he's a jackass (also according to most reports, Ford played him as gay which kind of comes across in the way he's super bitchy in a way you don't find a male character in the 1970's, even if there's no hint of this other than him wearing a stylish green suit in one scene that Ford bought with his own money), one who has gotten to this position through being absurdly handsome and honestly it's the sort of character you assume you don't need to pay attention to as the movie progresses.  Because I am writing this about Ford, though, I was paying attention, and it gives you a whole other angle here.  Ford's Martin Stett is the only figure in the film who 100% knows everything that's going on we learn as the film goes by-he works for the Director, but he's also clearly aware of the affair, and given that he's still working for Frederic Forrest & Cindy Williams in the end, it's possible he orchestrated all of this in connection with them.  The paranoia seeps into the actual film...was this all a setup to use Harry, kill the Director, and give the young couple everything they wanted?  Only Ford's Stett, who calls Hackman in the end to tell him he's being watched, knows for certain, and makes him the true antagonist of the picture.  Ford is good in this, and as we'll talk about next week, that layered acting ability didn't totally diminish when his visage started to adorn the postered walls of teenage boys, but as I said above-it's hard not to think of Ford in the same way we think of someone like Robert Duvall or John Cazale, someone who added extra layers to already great movies, as a supporting character actor, while watching The Conversation.

OVP: The Towering Inferno (1974)

Film: The Towering Inferno (1974)

Stars: Steve McQueen, Paul Newman, William Holden, Faye Dunaway, Fred Astaire, Susan Blakely, Richard Chamberlain, Jennifer Jones, OJ Simpson, Robert Vaughn, Robert Wagner, Susan Flannery, Jack Collins

Director: John Guillermin

Oscar History: 7 nominations/3 wins (Best Picture, Supporting Actor-Fred Astaire, Art Direction, Cinematography*, Film Editing*, Score, Song, Sound)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2026 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the men & women who created the Boom!-Pow!-Bang! action films that would come to dominate the Blockbuster Era of cinema.  This month, our focus is on Steve McQueen: click here to learn more about Mr. McQueen (and why I picked him), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Steve McQueen's career hit its financial peak in 1974, when he starred with Paul Newman in today's film The Towering Inferno.  At this point, Newman & McQueen were two of the biggest names in movies, and there were quite a few arguments over who would get top billing in the picture (ultimately it was a draw, with McQueen's name first but Newman's name higher), but after this both would suffer career lulls.  Newman would rebound eventually in the 1980's with films like The Verdict and The Color of Money, the latter winning him his only competitive Oscar, but McQueen would never regain this position.  He'd make an ill-fated Ibsen film in 1978 (one that would basically disappear from public consciousness), and then a pair of pictures in 1980 (Tom Horn and The Hunter), both decent-sized hits that might have hallmarked a comeback, but that wasn't to be.  Just over three months after the release of The Hunter, Steve McQueen would be dead.

(Spoilers Ahead) But before we get into that, let's get into the height of his career, at least commercially.  The Towering Inferno was a landmark movie in terms of its box office in 1974.  In the previous years, films like Airport and The Poseidon Adventure had found a formula for success-put a bunch of famous stars, including at least a few studio system legends that can scoop up a supporting acting Oscar nomination, and place them in an insane disaster situation, one that will have at least a few of them die, but the audience can look on in horror as we wonder who from this insanely-stacked call sheet might be safe.  This film is no less than these, and arguably has the starriest cast  of the bunch, but is much more in the vein of Airport (which I did not enjoy) than The Poseidon Adventure (which I did enjoy, in large part due to Shelley Winters' solid work).  The film has the tallest building in the world on fire, and all of our characters, including architect Newman and firefighter McQueen, fighting to stay alive as more-and-more paths to the ground floor are forfeited.  Along the way, some live (including, surprisingly, conman Fred Astaire), and some die, most shockingly Jennifer Jones, who in a morbid twist would be flung from the top of a giant building in the movie two years before her daughter would commit suicide in exactly the same way.

If only the movie was any good.  Technically, this is impressive-the set design, effects, and especially the stunt work are out-of-this-world, but the film spends no time trying to develop the characters, giving us two-dimensional feats from genuinely talented actors.  It's not like someone like Faye Dunaway or Paul Newman can't add a bit of three-dimensionality to their work, but there's no call for it.  Our star of the month, Steve McQueen, feels almost ancillary to the plot of the picture even as he's supposed to be the hero.  Fred Astaire would receive his only competitive acting Oscar nomination for this movie, and man is it unnecessary-he barely has anything to do, other than shout for a dead Jennifer Jones toward the end of the picture.  It feels weird to live in a world where Fred Astaire (whom I love) never got a competitive acting nomination, but, like...over John Cazale in The Godfather, Part II or John Huston in Chinatown...let's not be ridiculous here.

As I said above, Steve McQueen would disappear from movies after this, having a bit of a nomad period where he just went out into the country in a motor home, in the process turning down parts in Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Apocalypse Now that might've dramatically changed his legacy.  But his health by the late 1970's was in terrible shape, and he developed mesothelioma (likely due to asbestos exposure from his time in the Marines).  The National Enquirer, at that point most famous for its ongoing coverage of the death of Elvis Presley rather than the right-wing attack ads that it would become known for to modern supermarket shoppers, broke the story that McQueen was dying shortly before his death (he'd been trying to keep it a secret), and McQueen attempted a number of experimental procedures, including a surgery to remove a tumor from his liver in Mexico, a procedure he couldn't have performed in the United States because no doctor would do it (since it would kill him).  12 hours into the surgery, the American doctors were proven correct, and Steve McQueen died at the age of only 50 from a heart attack.

Next month, we're going to talk about a man who was good friends with McQueen, even if they also had something of a professional rivalry during McQueen's early stardom.  Like McQueen, he also would die young, but unlike McQueen, that death would cement his legacy in a way that would in many ways outlast any films he made in life...and would become the source of near constant conspiracy theory in the decades to come, in ways that would haunt his family for generations.

OVP: Captain Blood (1935)

Film: Captain Blood (1935)

Stars: Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, Lionel Atwill, Basil Rathbone, Ross Alexander

Director: Michael Curtiz

Oscar History: 2 nominations (Best Picture, Sound Recording)...at least in terms of official nominations.  In reality, because of write-in awards, Captain Blood is usually regarded as having been nominated for Best Director, Adapted Screenplay, and Score (and nearly won the first two) because Warner's block voting allowed people to write in names that weren't actually nominated, so when we finally reach the 1935 OVP I'll have to make a judgment call on what to include...but only Best Picture & Sound are recognized by the Academy as official nominations.

Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2026 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the men & women who created the Boom!-Pow!-Bang! action films that would come to dominate the Blockbuster Era of cinema.  This month, our focus is on Errol Flynn: click here to learn more about Mr. Flynn (and why I picked him), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

With some of the stars we've profiled in the past seven seasons, I've had a bit more time to really reflect on their careers and in some cases their careers were traditional enough that it was mostly just talking about that week's movie.  That...will not be the case with Errol Flynn, whose gigantic personal life is worthy of multiple biographies, and you can't really get to all of it in four articles.  So we'll break it up into four sections: his early career (and partnership with Olivia de Havilland), his peak stardom (and the juxtaposition between his big screen & real life personas), the sex scandal that dramatically changed his career (and changed in many ways the way that we talk about Hollywood scandal), and the bizarrely long list of things that were discovered about Flynn after his death, most of which is allegation since Flynn himself wasn't able to commentate on it.

(Spoilers Ahead) If you're going to talk about Errol Flynn's early stardom, you can't really do it without talking about Captain Blood, the 1935 film from Warner Brothers that turned him into a household name.  The film, seeing it for the first time (one of an increasingly small list of Best Picture nominees I've never caught before), is glorious.  It's a story about a young doctor named Peter Blood (Flynn), sold into slavery but bought by a clearly smitten woman named Arabella (de Havilland), and how he slowly works his way up in the ranks, specifically by treating the governor's gout.  In a bid to escape his bondage, he turns into a pirate (but an ethical one!), and storms the Caribbean, eventually finding Arabella captive (and buying her, thus paying his debt), before eventually, thanks to some honorable help to the English army, becoming governor himself, and wedded to Arabella.

The movie is silly, and it's a bit too dry in parts (when it wants to make sure you know that Peter is a fan of social justice, as this is a Warner Brothers movie), but you won't care for two reasons.  One, the production is scrumptious-gorgeous ships filled with detail, and special effects you kind of can't believe.  It's hard not to watch this and think of not just the Pirates of the Caribbean move, but also the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland, as it uses many of the same motifs, particularly the battle scene.  If you're a Disney adult, this needs to be added to your list as you won't regret it.

The other is that Flynn and de Havilland are divine together.  At the time they were not famous.  De Havilland was only 19, and Flynn (despite some bit work in film & theater) had not struck it big yet.  But their chemistry is palpable, and they're both so freaking gorgeous.  That's the thing with Flynn-save for maybe Buster Crabbe, he was (by modern beauty conventions) possibly the sexiest man in movies, and he looks it, even with a ridiculously hideous haircut.  You see Olivia de Havilland swoon over him, and you swoon over him too.

And that was what audiences in the 1930's did-they demanded more of Errol & Olivia.  Both actors have been pretty forthright that there was a romantic attraction to each other, but that they did not consummate the relationship.  At the time, Flynn was married to Lila Damita (who, proving how incestuous Old Hollywood was, had just finished an affair with Captain Blood director Michael Curtiz), and de Havilland (whose later Hollywood conquests would include Jimmy Stewart and a tortured affair with John Huston) was about to become one of the many flames of Howard Hughes.  But their professional relationship would create one of the most important duos of the Classical Hollywood era, starring together in eight films between 1935 and 1941, after which Flynn would encounter unfathomable scandal and de Havilland would become a pioneer against the studio system.  But when they were on, they were undeniable.  And in the best-regarded of their movies, The Adventures of Robin Hood, they created one of the most enchanting films ever made.

OVP: Norma Rae (1979)

Film: Norma Rae (1979)

Stars: Sally Field, Ron Leibman, Beau Bridges, Pat Hingle, Barbara Baxley

Director: Martin Ritt

Oscar History: 4 nominations/2 wins (Best Picture, Actress-Sally Field*, Adapted Screenplay, Original Song-"It Goes Like It Goes"*)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2024 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the women who were once crowned as "America's Sweethearts" and the careers that inspired that title (and what happened when they eventually lost it to a new generation).  This month, our focus is on Sally Field: click here to learn more about Ms. Field (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Sally Field's career began in television, and was inspired by another America's Sweetheart we profiled this year, Sandra Dee.  Field was the titular girl-next door in the television version of Gidget, but the show only lasted one season due to poor ratings (it would do better in syndication).  Field then took on what would end up being the biggest early success of her career and a setback for Field in the long run, playing Sister Bertrille in The Flying Nun, a hit for ABC that lasted three seasons.  Field couldn't escape the role, though, and was cast in a series of cutesy parts and girl-next-door roles.  It's possible that this is where Field would've stayed, but under the mentorship of Lee Strasberg (and thanks to the insistence of Joanne Woodward, her costar), she was able to land the lead role in Sybil, a TV movie that won her acclaim and an Emmy Award (beating not just Woodward, but other "reputable" actresses like Jane Alexander & Julie Harris).  Field alternated in the late 1970's between commercial fare like the box office smash Smokey and the Bandit and serious-minded cinema, including today's film, which won her her first Oscar, Norma Rae.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie takes place in a southern community (it's never confirmed, but you get an Alabama/Mississippi vibe from the surroundings), where Norma Rae Wilson (Field) works at a cotton mill and is frequently speaking out to management about the treatment of the workers, particularly her parents, who also work at the mill.  She meets a union organizer named Reuben (Leibman), who is pushy but well-informed, and trying to get the textile mill to unionize to fight back against the low wages & unfair treatment.  During this time, she meets and marries Sonny (Bridges), a sweet-but-simple (think himbo energy) coworker of hers, and they combine their families.  Norma Rae eventually joins Reuben's crusade, fighting for union rights for the textile workers, even though it's putting her life and reputation at risk.  Despite pitfalls, including a lot of pain to her marriage and her father dying from exhaustion, she is able to create the union, and hopefully in the process make her town better.

There aren't a lot of Best Actress-winning performances that I've never seen (I checked-I've caught 88% of the winners at this point), and this is one of the most-heralded that I have left.  I was curious how it would abide, and I was pleasantly surprised.  Field is excellent as Norma Rae.  I figured she'd play against type, trying still to shed the Flying Nun veneer, but she also grounds this work.  Her Norma Rae is not everything you'd expect.  She's defiant, but also quite charming and gregarious...it makes sense that a union organizer would be someone people genuinely like (otherwise why would they join her...JD Vance aside, politicians tend to be likable), but that doesn't usually happen in movies like this.  She grounds her work, making her feel like someone who gets things wrong, but isn't ashamed of being a sinner.  I think she takes this in different ways that other actresses would've and indeed Field wasn't the first choice here.  Jane Fonda, Jill Clayburgh, and Marsha Mason all turned down the role...and all famously lost at the Oscars to Field when she beat them (something that had to particularly sting for Clayburgh & Mason, who would never win an Academy Award).

The movie's most famous scene is the one where Field stands up in the factory, and holds up a placard saying "UNION" in big bold letters.  I have seen this still picture so frequently, and yet the actual scene itself played fresh.  Again, this is a testament to the filmmakers who understand subtlety, but the way that it slowly, steadily, uses the sound design of each machine turning off, the workers taking a stand next to her as they understand she's giving up everything to give them a better life, and it's time for them to stand with her, is incredibly moving.  The film is very much a product of the 1970's (the lovely song theme, the way the camera wants to show realism, the sexual politics at play), but that scene with the "UNION" is for all-time, a reminder that we never can give up the fight to ensure that the dignity of work is protected and respected.

OVP: Ordinary People (1980)

Film: Ordinary People (1980)

Stars: Donald Sutherland, Mary Tyler Moore, Timothy Hutton, Judd Hirsch

Director: Robert Redford

Oscar History: 6 nominations/4 wins (Best Picture*, Director*, Actress-Mary Tyler Moore, Supporting Actor-Timothy Hutton*, Supporting Actor-Judd Hirsch, Adapted Screenplay*)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2024 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the women who were once crowned as "America's Sweethearts" and the careers that inspired that title (and what happened when they eventually lost it to a new generation).  This month, our focus is on Mary Tyler Moore: click here to learn more about Ms. Moore (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

It's hard to express what a big deal The Mary Tyler Moore Show was when it was on in the 1970's.  The show wasn't a gargantuan-style Friends-esque behemoth in the ratings (it was a Top 20 hit for five of its seven seasons, so respectable, but was not once in the Top 5, peaking at #7 in Season 3), but it dominated the pop culture landscape.  The show would spawn three spinoffs, including the critically-acclaimed drama Lou Grant, and win more Emmys than any comedy until Frasier over two decades later.  Three of those would be for Moore as Best Actress in a Comedy Series.  As a result of playing Mary Richards, beautiful-but-talented, a single woman who didn't need a husband to be happy (or successful in life), she created a feminist icon.  Oprah Winfrey herself has stated she got into television because of Mary Richards, and the normally composed Winfrey openly wept when Moore made a surprise appearance on her show.  Coming off such a success would be daunting, but Moore chose pretty well for herself.  Being guided by Robert Redford in his directorial debut, Moore won the only Academy Award nomination of her career for 1980's Ordinary People, arguably the only significant film she'd make in her career in terms of passing into cultural relevance, a movie that won an Best Picture Oscar that is still discussed today.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is about the Jarretts, living in the suburbs of Chicago in an idllic house, but as you can imagine things at home are not idillic.  Their eldest son Buck has passed away from drowning, an accident on a sailboat that occurred while their younger son Conrad (Hutton) was on the boat, and since then Conrad has attempted suicide & gone to a mental hospital.  Conrad is now back-in-school but unsuccessfully readjusting, and his parents are not handling it the same.  His father Calvin (Sutherland) is amiable but largely hoping the problem will go away if he's kind to his son, while his wife Beth (Moore) wants to pretend nothing is different, and lives a sort of plastic Norman Rockwell-style existence, frequently trying to lift her problematic son out of her life completely.  Conrad is in therapy with Dr. Berger (Hirsch), a tough-talking psychiatrist who wants to get to the root cause of Conrad's problems, many of which he places at the feet of his parents.  As we learn, this is both true and an excuse.  Conrad has the ability to change himself, but not those around him, and when he suffers a breakdown, this comes to a head.  His father is willing to bend and be someone different to stay with the son he has left, but his wife is not, and leaves them before the end of the picture.  It's a hopeful, but bleak (and realistic) ending, and look at what grief can do to a family unit.

Ordinary People's best moments come from the prickliness that happens within a family unit, and how each person plays a part (and what happens when one of them is no longer there to play said part).  I think what's so smart about Redford's direction and the script is the way that it doesn't shy away from this.  It's very clear that Buck was Beth's favorite child, and that Calvin tried to compensate by favoring Conrad, though he wasn't as successful because Beth is the dominant figure in the household.  What is more intriguing is watching Beth & Calvin's own realities start to dissipate as we move into the movie.  It's clear that while Calvin loved both the boys, Beth might not have loved either of them, or at least not in a conventional way...she saw them as ornaments for her life, things to show to her friends.  There's an extremely uncomfortable but telling moment where Calvin wants to get a photo of Beth & Conrad together, and while Conrad is willing, Beth refuses, insisting she doesn't need it, and you see the look on Timothy Hutton's face as he understands in real time his mother no longer even wants to be seen next to him, he has strayed so far from what is acceptable as her ornament.  This is a very real type of mother (just look at all of the parents who abandon their children for being gay or trans), who only loves their child if they match the vision they have of them in their head.

And it's a testament to Moore (and the writers) that she doesn't get a redemption.  Part of what makes this performance so good is that Moore's Beth is not someone who is going to change, because she'll never see what she's doing as wrong.  She is the sort of person who has never considered that her worldview might be incorrect, and while Conrad & Calvin are capable of such introspection, she is not, which makes the ending work really well-you get a sense of her going back into her own life of golf, cocktail parties, & church fundraisers, everyone gossiping about how lonely she is behind her back but too afraid to reach out for fear of her slapping their hand.  All of the performers in this are good (Sutherland's blistered dad, Hutton's damaged son, even the least of the main quartet Hirsch's hipster doctor works more than he doesn't), but Moore is the best because she manages to play unlikeable so real.

The big controversy for any Oscar watcher (this is one of the very rare Best Picture winners I'd never seen) is that it beat Martin Scorsese's Raging Bull, and so (for the record) I want to acknowledge that this is not as good as Raging Bull (few movies are).  That movie does more with form, and has a better central performance.  But it is strong, and I get why it has developed a sort of second battalion of defenders in recent years after being something of a How Green Was My Valley/Dances with Wolves-style punching bag for so many years.  It's a great movie...it just probably shouldn't have beaten a masterpiece.

OVP: Picture (1999)

 OVP: Best Picture (1999)

The Nominees Were...

Bruce Cohen & Dan Jinks, American Beauty

Richard N. Goldstein, The Cider House Rules

David Valdes & Frank Darabont, The Green Mile

Michael Mann & Pieter Jan Brugge, The Insider

Frank Marshall, Kathleen Kennedy, & Barry Mendel, The Sixth Sense

My Thoughts: All right, and we are at the end of the road with our 1999 films.  I always end this with a couple of housekeeping notes.  My first is that I hope we are hitting our My Ballot this weekend (probably on Sunday)...I'm not promising anything as this was the first year in a while where I did most of my "extra" screenings alongside while I was writing, which is not something I typically do, but might become more standard practice going forward, and I had a lot of movies to catch up on for that piece (I'm done now though, so all that's left is the writing).  The second is-I don't know when we will have the next series.  I know what year we're doing (we'll be going WAY back in time to 1957 next), but I still have 11 screenings to do from that year, and while I will be hitting a lot of them this weekend (follow along on Letterboxd), it won't be all of them, so we might not see articles for the next week as I pile drive to get this done on top of a lot of other to do's, including several other important screenings.  But that's enough behind-the-scenes...let's get to the main event, the Best Picture field.

American Beauty is a movie I saw for the first time when I was 17, and while that wasn't when it came out, it wasn't far away from it either.  As a result, I was holding back to get a second opinion on a film I had initially really liked, but wasn't sure if it would age well (a lot of people I respect on social media were apathetic about it).  I will say, though, that I stand by my initial assessment-this is a very good movie.  There are moments that should be tweaked (particularly the ending needs some slight adjustments), but Mendes creates a rye, involved look at the nature of suburbia, and how its plastic facade still hides fears, dreams, & the humanity of those inside.

The Green Mile was the first Stephen King adaptation to be cited for Best Picture, but it is hardly the best example of someone adapting his work.  The movie is too long, and it's too schmaltzy.  Originally told in individual novella chapters (I still remember the new installments glossily displayed at the Waldenbooks at the St. Cloud shopping mall), the movie plays like it's disjointed in that regard.  I hate the "it should've been a miniseries" refrain that comes up a lot lately because frequently they're wrong (if you can't parse it down, perhaps it shouldn't be told cinematically at all), but if this was ever going to work, it needed sharper editing or more time to percolate-it has neither, and fails.

The Cider House Rules is a decent movie that, more than perhaps any other recent flick (give or take Chocolat) fell apart under the weight of Oscar's prestige.  The film itself is fine-Caine is really good, as is Rachel Portman's soaring score, which might be her best.  The problem is it's not worthy of an Oscar.  The Weinstein Machine nearly won this film an Oscar for Best Picture, but it's disposable dramatic fare, not something that should be uttered in the same breath as Gone with the Wind or Lawrence of Arabia.  This clearly being over-its-head largely derailed the Weinstein Oscar machine (or at least got it off-track)...not what should've taken down Harvey, but it was a start.

We have The Sixth Sense next, a movie that got here by sheer quality.  Whenever you have a genre film getting into the Best Picture race, it's entirely being driven by its own strength, as otherwise Oscar isn't going to touch it.  Here, that popcorn-chomping, grip-your-seat roller coaster is filled with thrills, and a lot of conversations about grief & letting go of the ones you love.  There are moments where it doesn't quite work (I think if you know the twist, some of it feels a bit too cheeky), but Shyamalan's first big breakthrough remains his best film, and one of the best "prestige horror" precursors.

Our final nomination is Michael Mann's The Insider, a really wonderfully-constructed legal thriller that honestly is so well-presented, even if you already know how it ends (and the stakes, decades later, feel less intense because we've spent the past few decades with the tobacco industry properly demonized into oblivion), it works well.  That's partially driven by the acting, particularly the work of Russell Crowe & Christopher Plummer, and the editing room, which keeps pacing strong.  I wasn't as big of a fan of the blue-screen cinematography and the overbearing score, but that's a small complaint, particularly given this is the only one of Michael Mann's distinctive films to break through with the Academy.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes have their categories separated into Musical/Comedy and Drama, and this was in the days that animated films could still compete (they weren't in a separate category) so we have Toy Story 2 taking Musical/Comedy over Analyze This, Being John Malkovich, Man on the Moon, & Notting Hill while Drama went to American Beauty against The End of the Affair, The Hurricane, The Insider, & The Talented Mr. Ripley (American Beauty would 100% be considered a comedy today given how much the Globes have watered-down that definition, so curious which one of these would've taken the cake if it wasn't here).  BAFTA also went with American Beauty atop East is East, The End of the Affair, The Sixth Sense, & The Talented Mr. Ripley, while the PGA Awards (then known as the Golden Laurel Awards) went with American Beauty against Being John Malkovich, The Cider House Rules, The Hurricane, & The Insider.  In sixth place, it feels like a competition between Ripley and Malkovich, and given that Ripley is more in Oscar's wheelhouse, I'll go with that even if Malkovich got the Best Director citation (it should be noted that Columbia/Sony pushed hard for The End of the Affair, so that should at least be mentioned, but barely struck a chord with Oscar so I don't know if it's a serious threat).

Films I Would Have Nominated: You'll find out later this weekend (saying it so I commit to it)!

Oscar’s Choice: There was a very real risk at the time that a late-breaking storm in Cider House's favor was going to upend the queerer, moodier Best Picture frontrunner (see also 2005 & 2021), but ultimately American Beauty took the prize.

My Choice: In a close race, I'm going to go with The Sixth Sense over American Beauty, as the former just has a stronger direction (and a better ending).  Behind them, I'd pick The Insider, The Cider House Rules, and in last The Green Mile.

And there you have it-another OVP in the books.  Are you going to stick with Oscar & his rose petals, or will you come over and see dead people with me?  Does anyone remember how insane this race felt with the Cider House sneak attack that nearly pulled off a win?  And overall-what is your favorite movie of 1999?  Share your comments below!

Also in 1999: Director, Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Original Screenplay, Foreign Language Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, Previously, in 1999

Past Best Picture Contests: 1931-32, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023

OVP: How the West Was Won (1963)

Film: How the West Was Won (1963)

Stars: Carroll Baker, Lee J. Cobb, Henry Fonda, Carolyn Jones, Karl Malden, Gregory Peck, George Peppard, Robert Preston, Debbie Reynolds, James Stewart, Eli Wallach, John Wayne, Richard Widmark, Spencer Tracy, Walter Brennan, Agnes Moorehead, Thelma Ritter, Russ Tamblyn, Raymond Massey, Mickey Shaughnessy

Director: Henry Hathaway, John Ford, & George Marshall

Oscar History: 8 nominations/3 wins (Best Picture, Original Screenplay*, Film Editing*, Sound*, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume Design, Score)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2024 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the women who were once crowned as "America's Sweethearts" and the careers that inspired that title (and what happened when they eventually lost it to a new generation).  This month, our focus is on Debbie Reynolds: click here to learn more about Ms. Reynolds (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

We cannot do a month devoted to Debbie Reynolds without talking about one of the most famous scandals of the Classical Hollywood era, her relationship with Eddie Fisher.  Fisher was a major singer at the time, on-par with acts like Fabian and Elvis Presley in terms of his popularity, and even had his own hit television program.  The two were the equivalent of what today we'd think of as Zendaya & Tom Holland (or for you older people, Brad Pitt & Jennifer Aniston)-America's Sweethearts, the boy and girl next door who had married each other.  Their marriage was rocky when it wasn't on the front pages, though, with Fisher a serial philanderer, including an affair with Playboy Playmate Pat Sheehan.  But it was when he had an affair with Elizabeth Taylor, the rare celebrity at the time on-par with Reynolds & Fisher, that the entire world paid attention.  Taylor, who had recently been widowed after the death of producer Mike Todd, was best friends with Reynolds, but still ended up in bed with her husband.  The scandal was sensational, one of the biggest celebrity news stories of the decade, and it had bizarre implications for all involved.  Reynolds, of course, was canonized as the scorned woman, and would have five movies come out in 1959 alone.  Elizabeth Taylor, the mistress, normally would've been the one to pay the price in the public's eye, but she was fine career-wise.  Within a year she was clutching her first Oscar, and a few years later would become the highest-paid actress in film history (and the centerpiece of an equally-famous affair) on the set of Cleopatra.  Instead it was Eddie Fisher who actually paid a career price, with his show being cancelled and his music career largely being destroyed.  It's hard to grasp now, but at the time Fisher was as big of a deal as Reynolds & Taylor were...now, he's nothing but an asterisk compared to the two women, who famously years after they'd both left Fisher reconciled and even starred in a film written by Fisher & Reynolds' daughter Carrie.

(Spoilers Ahead) During the wake of the scandal, Reynolds got a lot of career mileage and a number of hit movies, one of the biggest being today's film How the West Was Won.  The movie is less a cohesive story, and more a series of vignettes that tell the tale of how the American West began as well as how it ended, but the centerpiece around the film is Reynolds, who despite not getting top-billing (it went alphabetically for all of the main stars) is the movie's main character as Lilith Prescott, a woman dragged to the wilderness by her parents (Moorehead & Malden), and then when they die, she ends up making the west her home, marrying a scoundrel (Peck) who ends up making good, and eventually settling in the West with her nephew (Peppard) after most of the rest of her family dies.  In the meantime, we get pirates (led by Walter Brennan), the growth of the railroad, and, oh yeah, the Civil War.  

The movie is BIG, and it's not afraid of it.  There's a reason it has three directors and 17 (not a typo, I counted) Oscar-nominated actors on the call sheet.  But the thing is-it's not very good.  None of the actors are giving particularly good performances, and given who they are, that's a crime.  The best in the cast might be...Wallach, only because he gets to play a villain?  Honestly, even that feels like a stretch to me.  It's more a cavalcade of cameos, each seemingly doing John Ford a favor by appearing in a movie that would be such a big hit it'd be a weird case of it being one of their signature movies of the 1960's despite only Reynolds being in very much of the picture.  It deals a lot with cliche, and trying to shove what would've been a miniseries today into a couple of hours of celluloid.

The film won eight Academy Award nominations, and they're a mixed bag, but definitely not all bad.  The movie's screenplay win is abject silliness (it barely runs together as a plot!), and the same can be said for the editors, who probably got this nomination because it was a novel concept to have unrelated stories start to blend this way, but just because it's unique doesn't mean it's good.  The art direction & costume nominations are better, but less inspired.  The art direction feels more a tribute to the beauty of nature in the film, which is definitely on-display (also, because this is shot in Cinerama there's a lot more art direction than you'd normally expect), and the costumes are fine though nothing stands out in particular.  It's the last three nominations that worked best and felt most-earned.  The film's cinematography, capturing the beauty of the west (lots of this was shot off a studio lot), and it also works really well in conjunction with the stunt and effects teams (the Civil War & river rapids sequences, in particular, are the stuff that makes you wonder why it's taken so long to get a Stunts Oscar).  This also works for the sound work, with a lot of the action set pieces feeling really in-your-face, and it works well with the film's high musical quotient.  And of course Alfred Newman's score, generally considered to be his best work, is spectacularly grand.  All-in-all, there's a lot of elements of a classic here...if only the movie itself were any good.

OVP: Picture (2023)

 OVP: Best Picture (2023)

The Nominees Were...

Ben Le Clair, Nikos Karamigios, Cord Jefferson, & Jermaine Johnson, American Fiction

Marie-Ange Luciani & David Thion, Anatomy of Fall

David Heyman, Margot Robbie, Tom Ackerley, & Robbie Brenner, Barbie

Mark Johnson, The Holdovers

Dan Friedkin, Bradley Thomas, Martin Scorsese, & Daniel Lupi, Killers of the Flower Moon

Bradley Cooper, Steven Spielberg, Fred Berner, Amy Durning, & Kristie Macosko Krieger, Maestro

Emma Thomas, Charles Roven, & Christopher Nolan, Oppenheimer

David Hinojosa, Christine Vachon, & Pamela Koffler, Past Lives

Ed Guiney, Andrew Lowe, Yorgos Lanthimos, & Emma Stone, Poor Things

James Wilson, The Zone of Interest

My Thoughts: Whenever I finish another one of these seasons, I always seem to start humming "The Blower's Daughter" by Damien Rice, a song that I associate specifically with the film Closer, which I saw in college and was one of the first (then) contemporary films that I saw specifically as "mine."  It was a movie that very few of my friends or people I knew had seen (or liked), and that I loved when it came out (and still do, as is evidenced by the 2004 My Ballot where it made the Best Picture lineup).  The movie is about the passage of time & missed opportunities, but it's also a distinctly college movie for me, one of those formative flicks that you didn't realize going into the year would become part of your personality.  I think about that particularly with Best Picture lineups, because my hope is that some of these movies mean that for young cinephiles who are carving their path in the world, and loving movies in that way that it becomes harder to do the older you get.

One of the movies, though, that shocked me in that specific way in 2023 was The Zone of Interest. Jonathan Glazer takes way too long to make his movies, but he does at least make your patience worthy of the wait.  The Zone of Interest is a fascinating treatise on evil, how it seeps into our day-to-day life so much we can no longer see a world without it feeling commonplace.  The sound design is rich here, adding personality to the picture, and the writing & performances (particularly Sandra Huller) only accentuate this distinct look at the Holocaust and World War II (and, let's face it, modern fascist movements in the United States & Europe).

Another film that reminds me of Closer (I promise, I won't reference Mike Nichols' picture for all of these, but if you haven't seen it, do yourself a treat & seek it out) is Past Lives, though the 2023 movie has a far warmer heart.  I talk about my love of ticking clock romances on this blog a lot, but this one turns that a bit on its head, giving the main love triangle too much time to process their romance, leaving regret in place of urgency.  The way that the film examines how we become ghosts of our former selves (something you only begin to understand as you enter middle age), not in a melancholy way but in an inevitable one is really prescient stuff.  More than any other film in this lineup, I'm happiest this made it because it's the film that could've most easily gotten lost from public consciousness of the Oscar contenders.

The Holdovers is one of those movies that becomes better because of the parts, even if the sum doesn't always add up.  The warm performances from the three leads give it a lot of its flavor, as does some of the poignancy that invades Alexander Payne's script.  The movie is too neat, with every turn feeling telegraphed from the opening moments, and in the process Payne manages to screw up the ending, as he hasn't invested in our main character to make some of his choices in the final scenes feel unsaid.  Simple movies can be total masterpieces, but you have to get every part right if you're going to approach from that vantage-Payne only gets some things right.

Screwing up the ending, though, is not a sin exclusive to The Holdovers.  Maestro has the overconfidence to end with "any questions?" as if Bradley Cooper's film has answered fully the life of a complicated man.  But he doesn't-the movie invites far more questions than it answers, and what it does it gives a lot of really staid conversations about the life of Leonard Bernstein.  I think some of the conversations here are overplayed (I'm tired of talking about straight actors playing gay-in an era where openly gay Jonathan Bailey can get cast as the straight romantic lead in Wicked and get to front a major franchise like Jurassic Park, I think we can concede that we've made some progress), but the film's handling of Bernstein's sexuality seems hampered by real-life considerations (like his family's access to the life rights), and in the process Bernstein remains unknowable throughout the picture, a clear drop given the ending of the film.

But Maestro doesn't fumble at the beginning of the movie.  This is the last time I'll complain about it this season, but Anatomy of a Fall screws up much of its film's momentum at the top of the picture when it shares that it will end without resolution.  The movie never really recovers from that.  Though there are scenes of value (I think the title sequence is impressive, and Sandra Huller is better than the script), the movie's need to stay ambiguous becomes a problem as it feels too open-ended, and especially given how long it is, it lacks perspective on the crime itself.

A movie that better balances the need to be two things at once is American Fiction, though it isn't totally successful either.  American Fiction is really smart as social satire, giving us a cutting diatribe about the commodification of diversity and the ways that racism can take on different forms, even in seemingly progressive politics.  But in a weird twist, the film itself doesn't have enough strength in its family drama (the types of books that the main character wants to write) to sell that story-within-a-story angle.  The film's call sheet is smart (save for a woefully miscast Sterling K. Brown), with Jeffrey Wright a strong lead and I loved the meta-casting of Erika Alexander in a movie about a writer who struggles to convey to his publishers that the Black experience can take on any lens (Alexander is best-known for playing Cousin Pam on The Cosby Show, one of the first mainstream Hollywood productions to truly emphasize this message).  It's just short, though, of being something truly special.

Poor Things in a lot of ways has that "just short" of something truly great scenario going for it as well.  Like American Fiction, it has a strong lead performance, and it has a lot to say, in this case about feminism.  But also like American Fiction, it can't quite find a balance, though here it's trying to keep up with Lanthimos' need for shocking the audience through sex, body humor, and tantalizing moral conversations.  All of these can make up great art (see Lanthimos' The Favourite, in fact), but in Poor Things it gets in Lanthimos' way.  I'll also own that some of the aesthetic choices in the picture feel arbitrary (and a bit ugly for me), which made the film suffer whenever I wasn't getting to revel in Emma Stone's brilliant work.

Killers of the Flower Moon continues Martin Scorsese's recent trend of making his best pictures at the close of his career.  Running well over three hours, the movie gives us a totally epic tale, one that feels more complete for being pieced together (news flash: not every big story works better as a miniseries...this is proof of that).  The acting is somewhat strong.  We have Robert de Niro giving his best performance in decades, and Lily Gladstone's understated approach giving us a woman who is always hiding in Mollie Kyle, a strategy that makes her final scenes just sing on the screen.  I think DiCaprio is miscast (and Brendan Fraser is laughably bad), but those are minor quibbles when you're getting to see a master like Scorsese at work.

We of course have to end with the two movies that will forever be intwined, both in moviegoers' minds and at the Oscars: Barbie and Oppenheimer.  We'll start our Barbenheimer conversation with Oppenheimer, a movie that underlines how Christopher Nolan is one of our most visually arresting film directors.  The movie's aesthetic choices are divine (the art direction & cinematography are both laudable, I also think the editing approach works when it easily could've been too much), and most of the ensemble cast delivers, including some of the bit players like Benny Safdie or Casey Affleck.  I do think Nolan continues to struggle at writing women (and Emily Blunt's not giving us enough to make up for that), but Oppenheimer is going to age beautifully as a Best Picture winner, a striking meld of populist intellectualism.

Barbie is a movie, unlike Oppenheimer, that wasn't guaranteed Best Picture consideration.  It's due to Greta Gerwig's shiny pink optimism that this became the biggest hit of 2023.  Barbie is going to be hard to grade for future generations primarily because it was a phenomenon (the marketing on this film was both costly and insanely effective, with a press junket that should be studied), but the film itself is also strong.  It looks sensational (love the costumes, art direction, & makeup), and the lead actors are both fizzing with chemistry, though the standout remains Ryan Gosling's Ken, inevitably the definitive role of one of our best working actors.  I do think some of the commentary about feminism feels a bit prosaic, but I am hardly going to Kensplain girl power-Barbie is delicious & frothy fun.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes have their categories separated into Musical/Comedy and Drama, with six nominations each so we do get some new names, though not in Drama, where Oppenheimer beats Anatomy of a Fall, Killers of the Flower Moon, Maestro, Past Lives, & The Zone of Interest.  Instead it's in Musical/Comedy where Oscar nominee Poor Things took it over some films from the AMPAS lineup (Barbie, American Fiction, The Holdovers) and some not (May December, Air).  The PGA copied Oscar verbatim for both nominations and wins, and BAFTA (the only game in town still doing five nominations) went with Oppenheimer atop Anatomy of a Fall, The Holdovers, Killers of the Flower Moon, & Poor Things.  I wrote an entire article about who might've been in 11th place, and while future pundits (who rely too much on stats for my taste) will assume The Color Purple or Nyad were in 11th place, I honestly think it was All of Us Strangers, Origin, or Air that was in 11th, and would've been the first film since 1943 to get in for Best Picture without a nomination anywhere else.  This is a fascinating conversation (more so than any recent "who was the runner-up" dialogue), so here's the article if you want more or want to know why I picked those specific titles.

Films I Would Have Nominated: You'll find out tomorrow!

Oscar’s Choice: Oppenheimer won by so much, it's a genuine question between The Holdovers, Barbie, Poor Things, Killers of the Flower Moon, and The Zone of Interest what was in second place (whomever it was, they were distant, but I'd probably bet on The Holdovers if forced to choose because of how the ranked ballots work).

My Choice: Not a hard one for me-The Zone of Interest is the best in a really solid list of movies (Oscar did better here than he has in a lot of recent years even if there won't be much overlap with my personal ballot).  Behind it (in order) are Killers of the Flower Moon, Past Lives, Oppenheimer, Barbie, American Fiction, The Holdovers, Poor Things, Anatomy of a Fall, and Maestro.  So that means in our six Barbenheimer matchups, Barbie went 5-1...but still missed for Best Picture.

And there you have it-another OVP in the books.  Are you all still enchanted by Oppenheimer, or do you favor a darker picture like The Zone of Interest?  Who do you think was in the second and eleventh places in a year where that was quite murky?  And overall-what is your favorite movie of 2023?  Share your comments below!

Also in 2023: Director, Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Original Screenplay, International Feature Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound, Original Score, Original Song, Production Design, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup & Hairstyling, Previously in 2023

Past Best Picture Contests: 1931-32, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022

OVP: The Nun's Story (1959)

Film: The Nun's Story (1959)

Stars: Audrey Hepburn, Peter Finch, Edith Evans, Peggy Ashcroft, Dean Jagger, Mildred Dunnock

Director: Fred Zinnemann

Oscar History: 8 nominations (Best Picture, Director, Actress-Audrey Hepburn, Adapted Screenplay, Cinematography, Film Editing, Score, Sound)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2024 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the women who were once crowned as "America's Sweethearts" and the careers that inspired that title (and what happened when they eventually lost it to a new generation).  This month, our focus is on Audrey Hepburn: click here to learn more about Ms. Hepburn (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Like many women who wore the title of "America's Sweetheart" Audrey Hepburn's critical acclaim has been questioned through the years by some, claiming she was a "limited" actress.  This feels like an odd thing to point out for Hepburn, who more than almost any actress we're going to profile this year, received a lot of critical acclaim.  Hepburn was cited for five Oscars in her career, winning for Roman Holiday, and that didn't include her lauded work in My Fair Lady, which was widely-expected by many to be a spot for her to get a nomination.  She also was one of the first people to win an EGOT (an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, & Tony) and did so as a performer.  Today, we are going to discuss one of Hepburn's Oscar-nominated turns, the final one that I had yet to see, and one that I think shows the versatility of her acting, rather than calling it (as her critics have) "one-note": The Nun's Story.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie focuses on the life of Gaby, a young postulant who for most of the film is known as Sister Luke (Hepburn).  She has, before the start of the film, decided to devote herself to a life as a nun, something that we don't get a lot of insight into the rationale why, though we think it's to become a nurse in the Congo (there's a throwaway line about a boy she liked late in the film, and I rather liked that this might be a secondary reason for her, because it adds a depth to the film even if it might also be a touch antifeminist to assume she couldn't just want this for a career).  Of course, being a nun is not just about nursing, but instead also about devotion to God, and throughout the film we get to see Sister Luke struggle with a crisis-of-faith, trying to find a way to help those around her through her scientific skills, but also to get back to her devotion to the church, and wanting to show that she can be worthy of her new calling, and not just being a nurse.  As the film progresses, it becomes evident that she cannot, and in the final moments of the film, she leaves the convent forever.

The movie was cited for 8 Academy Awards, including Best Picture, and it's worthy of most of them.  The film is wonderfully-structured, giving us a glimpse not only into the life of a woman trying to become a nun, but giving it two-dimensionally.  I have read that some (particularly composer Franz Waxman) were critical of the Catholic Church, but I'll be honest-I don't think the story gets that across.  If you want to debate the Church, you've got your evidence there-the constant critiquing of Sister Luke for having human impulses feels cruel in parts.  But there's also a spot for those who are sympathetic to the church, showing how becoming a nun isn't a calling for everyone, even for the most kindhearted of women (i.e. there's more to being a nun than being good).  I loved that approach, and honestly really liked this movie.  There are critiques to be had (I don't think that it gives us enough connection to those around Sister Luke for us to really understand why she ultimately gives up the church after sacrificing so much), but they're thin.  Zinnemann's approach, the film's lovely cinematography, and the way that it wordlessly adds depth to the ending by foregoing Waxman's score as Hepburn leaves the convent, rather than giving us a dramatic swell, is marvelous.  It's clear at that moment that Sister Luke is picking the only way out, but she's not sure if it's the right one, and the music not giving the audience any indication this is the correct path is really well-designed.

Hepburn's performance here is really stellar.  The cinematography & makeup work are helping her cause, to be fair.  I love the way we start to see the angelic Hepburn's eyes start to become sallow with the weight of the world on her, highlighted by the constant focus on her face (in many ways copying what cinematographer Arthur C. Miller did for Jennifer Jones in The Song of Bernadette).  But Hepburn is also giving something extra to her work here.  Her internal struggles, the way that her inner-monologue never shuts off, particularly when we see that she can't speak to other people, is very reminiscent of Robert Bresson's Diary of a Country Priest, and it's very effective.  Hepburn shows here she might always look like a pixie, but she also was able to use that to create versatility.  She's up against actresses like Simone Signoret & Katharine Hepburn, generally considered to be "better" actresses than she is, but her performance honestly is more nuanced and stronger in the way it highlights the picture than either of those two more celebrated thespians.  Hepburn's critical reputation from some snobbish cinephiles as one-note is, well, wrong.