OVP: Best Director (2010)
The Nominees Were...
Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan
Ethan and Joel Coen, True Grit
David Fincher, The Social Network
Tom Hooper, The King's Speech
David O. Russell, The Fighter
My Thoughts: We've been through these films before, so it's time to just dive in and give these men their due.
Let's start out, once again, with the Coen Brothers and their western True Grit. It's hard to fault the Coen Brothers for almost anything, as they have given so much to the moviegoing public. Their films continue to break down barriers, and just when you think they've made their last surprise, you find yourself looking at a reinvented Western epic of the grandest scale. Of course, that movie is No Country for Old Men. This movie, despite some lovely cinematography, just doesn't resonate in the same way.
No one is without blemishes on their cinematic record (except John Cazale), and while this film is a bit too sturdy to be considered an out-and-out failure, it's just not of the quality we're used to from the Coen Brothers. I would say that they felt boxed in by the tighter structure created by adapting a book, rather than something of their own devices, but they managed to do their best work with Cormac McCarthy's novel as a source, so that's not the culprit. The reality is, and it's time I just said it-the plot and story of this film is a bit thin for a movie. It's the sort of film that the Duke could churn out over and over again during his many decades at the top of the mount, but there's nothing really special about it, and it doesn't mine the psychological depths that a western like The Searchers or Unforgiven does, nor is it an epic good vs. evil tale like Shane. It's just a standard, run-of-the-mill scoundrel does good to help a young girl. The only reason it got any notice was because the Academy decided it was about time they give John Wayne an Oscar. And even with the occasional Coen touch (the scenes in the cabin), the directors never manage to rise above their material.
David O. Russell is a curious man, and one that I can't tell if we'll be seeing a lot of in the next few years at the Dolby or if he just managed to luck out and have one surprise Academy hit followed by a Harvey-endorsed mandated Best Picture. Whatever the reason, it's sometimes hard to grasp that the man who made the obscure, hilarious, incredibly off-putting I Heart Huckabees also somehow made a movie as conventional as The Fighter. As a director, he is in the rare circumstance of being better than the picture (I usually am more forgiving of a film in the Best Picture lineup). The action pieces, which are largely his and the editor's handiwork, are spectacular. I was so surprised by how much I enjoyed those scenes, as I rarely think of boxing as a sport that film can find something new to feature. However, like the editors, I will dock some points for the cliched manner of the film. There is no greater letdown when a film leads with a "based on a true story." If they have to tell you at the beginning, you're clearly going to be in for some flights of fancy that no one is going to find realistic (the fact that it is real doesn't mean that it's good plot development, just that real life is sometimes as hackneyed as what's in front of us in a glowing box). That's the case with the brothers and their relationship/rivalry. The film is good, there's no getting around it, but it's not great, and the Bale centerpiece is what holds it back in my opinion (an opinion I'm aware not everyone shares).
Tom Hooper is one of those people you almost want to feel sorry for (almost). He wins an Oscar after having almost no cinematic presence, and despite a strong history in television (he's an Emmy winner as well, and is the man behind installments of John Adams, Prime Suspect, Longford, and his winning work in Elizabeth I). The man may not have paid his dues yet, but there's clearly a storyteller behind the vitriol that was spewed at him mercilessly by the collective internet after his win (you want to see some overreactions, check the Awards Daily archives for this Oscar race and you'll see that, two years later, civilization is still standing despite some prognostications to the contrary).
But the film isn't good enough to have won this Oscar, and I think we all know that by now. The problem is that television and film are too very different mediums, and Hooper is still stuck in the former when he needs to be pulling into the advantages of the latter. A TV movie is still using the continued uplifting nature of the story going on, whereas as a film is supposed to be more finite, but Hooper doesn't do that. A lot of this film's grandiosity is predicated on what comes next. We lead up to a big moment, but the whole meaning of that moment is the years that follow. This is a petty quibble, but after twenty-odd write-ups, many featuring The King's Speech, I'm trying to find something new to say without giving away the grand finale write-up (that of Best Picture). And so, I'll go with the odd complaint that relying on what comes next, and outside history, is acceptable but a tad bit lazy when you're trying to highlight the importance of your film. Both of the best films in this lineup, Black Swan and The Social Network, also have "loose end" finishes, but they don't lose anything if you just look at the film as a whole without the advantage of history.
Black Swan, for example, is a tightly wound movie that gains with its "did she or didn't she ending." Aronofsky has so many great directorial choices-putting Nina in a world predominantly feminine (Cassel being the only significant man in her world), the questionable reality of everything we're seeing (are we in Nina's imagination, or are we seeing reality, and unlike Inception, this comes across as a plot device rather than a "twist"). It moves quickly but it leaves tons of clues and hints throughout the movie that fans can pick up on in the future. I oftentimes say that a film should stand on its own-I should not have had to have read the book or been familiar with the historical event or played the video game in order to find enjoyment in the film being presented. On the other side of that, though, a film that gains with repeat viewings is a strong movie, and as long as it doesn't appear cluttered with the story, learning more and catching clues on second and third viewings is encouraged and is a sign of a director who knows how to construct a great thriller, something that Aronofsky does here with relish.
The final film is The Social Network, and was proof, two years after his sentimental (though beautiful and occasionally graceful) Benjamin Button that David Fincher could still cut through human nature like an estoc through its opponent. He is so aware of his subjects here, something that I don't think he always is. He knows how to keep us guessing in a story we already know the ending to, which is a sign of a director who doesn't care about surprising, just about telling a good yarn. He doesn't spend his movie filling us with winking "a-ha" moments, but instead gives us a series of characters (primarily Mark, Eduardo, and Sean) and shows how their actions and inactions created something enormous. There are so many moments of genius in Fincher's work it's hard to just list a couple, so I'll leave with one. Think about the way he makes his movie match its most vital character, Facebook. It's detached, increasingly focused on fragments of our lives rather than the whole experience, and callously letting the characters shove aside feelings and genuine attachments in favor of recognition and braggadocio. Think of the scene where Mark flicks off the building and tells off Sean's former enemies. Now think about how that friend from college announced to the world that she's better off since she got her divorce or how your cousin just posted an "I'm not doing well, but don't ask me about it" sort of status. He understands the "notice me" mentality of Gen Y, and he fuses it with this modern movie classic.
Let's start out, once again, with the Coen Brothers and their western True Grit. It's hard to fault the Coen Brothers for almost anything, as they have given so much to the moviegoing public. Their films continue to break down barriers, and just when you think they've made their last surprise, you find yourself looking at a reinvented Western epic of the grandest scale. Of course, that movie is No Country for Old Men. This movie, despite some lovely cinematography, just doesn't resonate in the same way.
No one is without blemishes on their cinematic record (except John Cazale), and while this film is a bit too sturdy to be considered an out-and-out failure, it's just not of the quality we're used to from the Coen Brothers. I would say that they felt boxed in by the tighter structure created by adapting a book, rather than something of their own devices, but they managed to do their best work with Cormac McCarthy's novel as a source, so that's not the culprit. The reality is, and it's time I just said it-the plot and story of this film is a bit thin for a movie. It's the sort of film that the Duke could churn out over and over again during his many decades at the top of the mount, but there's nothing really special about it, and it doesn't mine the psychological depths that a western like The Searchers or Unforgiven does, nor is it an epic good vs. evil tale like Shane. It's just a standard, run-of-the-mill scoundrel does good to help a young girl. The only reason it got any notice was because the Academy decided it was about time they give John Wayne an Oscar. And even with the occasional Coen touch (the scenes in the cabin), the directors never manage to rise above their material.
David O. Russell is a curious man, and one that I can't tell if we'll be seeing a lot of in the next few years at the Dolby or if he just managed to luck out and have one surprise Academy hit followed by a Harvey-endorsed mandated Best Picture. Whatever the reason, it's sometimes hard to grasp that the man who made the obscure, hilarious, incredibly off-putting I Heart Huckabees also somehow made a movie as conventional as The Fighter. As a director, he is in the rare circumstance of being better than the picture (I usually am more forgiving of a film in the Best Picture lineup). The action pieces, which are largely his and the editor's handiwork, are spectacular. I was so surprised by how much I enjoyed those scenes, as I rarely think of boxing as a sport that film can find something new to feature. However, like the editors, I will dock some points for the cliched manner of the film. There is no greater letdown when a film leads with a "based on a true story." If they have to tell you at the beginning, you're clearly going to be in for some flights of fancy that no one is going to find realistic (the fact that it is real doesn't mean that it's good plot development, just that real life is sometimes as hackneyed as what's in front of us in a glowing box). That's the case with the brothers and their relationship/rivalry. The film is good, there's no getting around it, but it's not great, and the Bale centerpiece is what holds it back in my opinion (an opinion I'm aware not everyone shares).
Tom Hooper is one of those people you almost want to feel sorry for (almost). He wins an Oscar after having almost no cinematic presence, and despite a strong history in television (he's an Emmy winner as well, and is the man behind installments of John Adams, Prime Suspect, Longford, and his winning work in Elizabeth I). The man may not have paid his dues yet, but there's clearly a storyteller behind the vitriol that was spewed at him mercilessly by the collective internet after his win (you want to see some overreactions, check the Awards Daily archives for this Oscar race and you'll see that, two years later, civilization is still standing despite some prognostications to the contrary).
But the film isn't good enough to have won this Oscar, and I think we all know that by now. The problem is that television and film are too very different mediums, and Hooper is still stuck in the former when he needs to be pulling into the advantages of the latter. A TV movie is still using the continued uplifting nature of the story going on, whereas as a film is supposed to be more finite, but Hooper doesn't do that. A lot of this film's grandiosity is predicated on what comes next. We lead up to a big moment, but the whole meaning of that moment is the years that follow. This is a petty quibble, but after twenty-odd write-ups, many featuring The King's Speech, I'm trying to find something new to say without giving away the grand finale write-up (that of Best Picture). And so, I'll go with the odd complaint that relying on what comes next, and outside history, is acceptable but a tad bit lazy when you're trying to highlight the importance of your film. Both of the best films in this lineup, Black Swan and The Social Network, also have "loose end" finishes, but they don't lose anything if you just look at the film as a whole without the advantage of history.
Black Swan, for example, is a tightly wound movie that gains with its "did she or didn't she ending." Aronofsky has so many great directorial choices-putting Nina in a world predominantly feminine (Cassel being the only significant man in her world), the questionable reality of everything we're seeing (are we in Nina's imagination, or are we seeing reality, and unlike Inception, this comes across as a plot device rather than a "twist"). It moves quickly but it leaves tons of clues and hints throughout the movie that fans can pick up on in the future. I oftentimes say that a film should stand on its own-I should not have had to have read the book or been familiar with the historical event or played the video game in order to find enjoyment in the film being presented. On the other side of that, though, a film that gains with repeat viewings is a strong movie, and as long as it doesn't appear cluttered with the story, learning more and catching clues on second and third viewings is encouraged and is a sign of a director who knows how to construct a great thriller, something that Aronofsky does here with relish.
The final film is The Social Network, and was proof, two years after his sentimental (though beautiful and occasionally graceful) Benjamin Button that David Fincher could still cut through human nature like an estoc through its opponent. He is so aware of his subjects here, something that I don't think he always is. He knows how to keep us guessing in a story we already know the ending to, which is a sign of a director who doesn't care about surprising, just about telling a good yarn. He doesn't spend his movie filling us with winking "a-ha" moments, but instead gives us a series of characters (primarily Mark, Eduardo, and Sean) and shows how their actions and inactions created something enormous. There are so many moments of genius in Fincher's work it's hard to just list a couple, so I'll leave with one. Think about the way he makes his movie match its most vital character, Facebook. It's detached, increasingly focused on fragments of our lives rather than the whole experience, and callously letting the characters shove aside feelings and genuine attachments in favor of recognition and braggadocio. Think of the scene where Mark flicks off the building and tells off Sean's former enemies. Now think about how that friend from college announced to the world that she's better off since she got her divorce or how your cousin just posted an "I'm not doing well, but don't ask me about it" sort of status. He understands the "notice me" mentality of Gen Y, and he fuses it with this modern movie classic.
Other Precursor Contenders: Unlike the acting races, the Globes were not on the same page as the Oscars. They threw out the Coen brothers for Christopher Nolan, and gave their top trophy to David Fincher. The BAFTA Awards also went with Nolan, as well as Danny Boyle for 127 Hours, cutting both True Grit and The Fighter from their lineup, and they too went with David Fincher (something I admittedly forgot, as I was sure they would have wanted to go with their countryman Tom Hooper). Finally, Christopher Nolan once again found himself in the lineup for the DGA Awards, taking out the Coen Brothers and becoming only the second person ever to receive three DGA Award nominations without being nominated for an Oscar as a director. It seems likely that Nolan was in sixth place, though with a ten-wide Best Picture field, you can't be 100%.
Directors I Would Have Nominated: Can I just say that it was severely disappointing, the year after Kathryn Bigelow shattered a huge glass ceiling for the Academy and finally won a Best Director Oscar, that Debra Granik and Lisa Cholodenko both missed out on nominations. I think it's a bit telling of the director's branch that, of the eleven films that have been directed by a woman and were later nominated for Best Picture, only three actually got nominated for Best Picture, a statistic that's stunningly low considering that most Best Pictures get their corresponding Best Director nomination (for the OCD out there, the films are Children of a Lesser God, Awakenings, The Prince of Tides, The Piano, Lost in Translation, Little Miss Sunshine, The Hurt Locker, An Education, The Kids Are All Right, Winter's Bone, and Zero Dark Thirty). It's even worse since both Granik and Cholodenko were better than 60% of the nominated films, and if I were just limiting myself to the ten Best Picture nominees, I would have found room for at least one, if not both.
Oscar's Choice: Oscar, as you may recall, went with Tom Hooper, which likely hurt his career far more than it helped it in the long run (he joined Kathryn Bigelow and Ben Affleck amongst those who didn't receive a Best Director nomination this past year, but if you don't recall any pieces protesting this, that's because there weren't any).
My Choice: I find it easiest to pick the winner when they nominate the best contender of the year, and so David Fincher, come on down. Aronofsky comes next, followed by Russell, Hooper, and finally the Coens.
And what about you-we'll be rapping up 2010 tomorrow (and 2012 is soon to follow, as I'll have both of those films done by this weekend), but what are your thoughts before we introduce five more movies to the mix? Did Oscar (or the OVP) make the right call, or were you hoping for Russell, Aronofsky, or the Coens? Are you most opining the exclusion of Nolan, or do you also wish that Granik/Cholodenko would have been amongst the nominees? Share your thoughts in the comments!
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