OVP: Actor (2000)

OVP: Best Actor (2000)

The Nominees Were...

Javier Bardem, Before Night Falls

Russell Crowe, Gladiator

Tom Hanks, Cast Away

Ed Harris, Pollock

Geoffrey Rush, Quills

My Thoughts: All right, let's move into the lead actors, and a reminder of how I miss the era of the 5-wide Best Picture nominees sometimes.  In 2000, if you can believe it, only one of the Best Actor nominees (usually the category with the most correlation with Best Picture) was from one of the top films of the night.  This isn't to say that there weren't films that would've made it in a ten-wide field.  In a ten-wide field Cast Away for sure and maybe Quills is going to get into the top race, making this feel more generic than it seems, but in 2000 it was only one man, getting his second of three back-to-back nominations from the Academy (his only three nominations to date, bizarrely enough).

That man is Russell Crowe, who gets to be one of the final vessels for me to complain about Ridley Scott's Gladiator.  It's not that Crowe is necessarily bad here.  He gives, for my money, the best performance in Gladiator, and finds some humanity in a characterization that easily could've been a bland, Mel Gibson-style performance.  There's just not enough of it.  I needed more swagger...it might've helped if Crowe had had a little more chemistry with Nielsen (or hell, Phoenix), but for someone who was billed as a sex symbol at the time, the film is not interested in capitalizing on that.  It's also just not written to be a great performance-Crowe would need more swagger as an actor to make this jump off-the-screen in a bigger way, and that's not how he's playing it.

Quills is a film that is very much written to be sexy, but it's not, and not because Rush is not generally considered a sex symbol in the way that Crowe is (though Rush does have more sexual chemistry with Joaquin Phoenix than Crowe does in his movie!).  This is the least of Rush's Oscar-nominated work, and it's a performance that indulges many of his worst traits as an actor.  Rush is not a subtle performer, and pretending he is always gets you into trouble (his best performance is in the first Pirates of the Caribbean film, which uses that overacting to its advantage).  That's a problem in the messy back-half of Quills, where he takes an already "too much" character and turns him up to eleven, which is a bad counter to some of the more grounded work Kate Winslet is doing here.

Ed Harris is also at-odds with his work in Pollock, though it's not always his fault as an actor.  Harris (as director) is pulling double duty, and in the process he feels like he's pulling away from the character onscreen.  Pollock writes Jackson as being full of misery, and only focuses on that misery.  This makes the film feel like half a picture, and the characterization as half a performance-we're meant to understand that Jackson has at least some draw beyond just his art (that people are fascinated by him), but it doesn't come across in Harris's work (in many ways, this is how I felt about Marion Cotillard in La Vie en Rose, another actor, like Harris, I generally enjoy but was in the minority on one of their most lauded performances).

Speaking of actors I run hot-and-cold on, let's get to Javier Bardem.  I do not generally enjoy the films of Julian Schnabel, whose films feel like they're stuck in a kaleidoscope (and not in as pleasant of a way as that sounds, as generally that'd be my thing).  Bardem's work here is surprisingly nuanced.  Like Rush, he's someone that frequently overacts, but as a dying gay poet, a role filled with indulgences, he is far more naturalistic than you'd expect.  I just wish the movie was able to anchor around that work a bit more, finding a way to steady itself so they felt more in sync.

Tom Hanks in 2000 was at the top of his game, and it would be so weird to think that he'd soon be entering his "Oscar wilderness phase."  This is particularly true because Oscar would pick such a fine piece-of-work to go out on until he became Mr. Rogers.  Cast Away has been parodied quite a bit in the years since Hanks made it a genuine blockbuster (the film is, after all, a movie about a man obsessed with a volleyball), but that doesn't take away from his achievement here.  The work he does, oftentimes having to have chemistry with an inanimate object, and giving us a hopeful, human story is really splendid work.  For an actor that I think is thought of more as a "movie star" than a thespian, there are scenes here that number amongst the best of his career (particularly the "Wilson goodbye").

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes break out their nominees between Drama and Comedy/Musical, so we have ten names from their ceremony.  The Drama statue went to Hanks, atop Bardem, Crowe, Rush, & Michael Douglas (Wonder Boys) while Comedy/Musical went to George Clooney (O Brother, Where Art Thou?), besting Jim Carrey (How the Grinch Stole Christmas), John Cusack (High Fidelity), Robert de Niro (Meet the Parents), & Mel Gibson (What Women Want)...side note, but don't you miss the era where they would only have proper comedies in this category & we'd get five names that weren't in contention at the Oscars?  SAG gave their statue to Benicio del Toro for Traffic (I believe this was a mistake in filing for the wrong category that showed just how unstoppable del Toro was for Supporting Actor), against Crowe, Hanks, Rush, & Jamie Bell (Billy Elliot), while BAFTA favored Bell against Rush, Douglas, Crowe, & Hanks.  At the time, most assumed Michael Douglas would get in for the spot that went to Harris, and that's probably the case even if Bell makes more sense based on how we think about the Oscars as a game of math today (an article for another day, but I do think that that over-prognostication of awards season may have inadvertently ruined awards season), given that the Academy has never been kind to nominating young male actors for lead acting roles.

Actors I Would Have Nominated: I don't generally nominate young actors either (I do think there's something to be said for them being a product of strong direction), but there's no way I'd miss Bell here, particularly knowing what a fine actor he'd grow up to be.  His work in Billy Elliot is aces, and adds so much to a film that could've been an otherwise disposable coming-of-age picture.

Oscar’s Choice: Crowe's win at the time was something of a surprise (Hanks was expected to win his third statue even with Crowe's name in the game, and a lot of heat for Ed Harris), and would unknowingly make Denzel Washington's win the following year possible.

My Choice: It's easily Hanks, who is the only person in this lineup giving a truly Oscar-worthy performance.  I debated between Bardem & Harris for second, and while I had Harris in that position when I started this article, I've talked myself into giving it to Bardem, whose work is subtler and better for his picture.  Crowe is in fourth, and I'll leave Rush in last place.

Those are my thoughts-what are yours?  Do you think Oscar got it right with the Gladiator, or will you be stuck at sea with Tom & I?  What do you think Ed Harris's, a four-times nominated actor who likely will never win, best performance is?  And was it Jamie Bell or Michael Douglas in sixth place?  Share your thoughts below in the comments!

Also in 2000: Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Original Screenplay, Foreign Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, Previously in 2000

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

OVP: Frida (2002)

Film: Frida (2002)

Stars: Salma Hayek, Alfred Molina, Geoffrey Rush, Mia Maestro, Ashley Judd, Antonio Banderas, Edward Norton, Diego Luna

Director: Julie Taymor

Oscar History: 6 nominations/2 wins (Best Actress-Salma Hayek, Art Direction, Costume Design, Makeup*, Original Score*, Original Song-"Burn It Blue")

Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

In celebration of my brother's birthday today, we are doing not one Best Actress (his favorite category) review, but two!  This morning we talked about Greta Garbo's legendary turn in Camille, but this afternoon we're going to go with a more modern take.  My brother has seen pretty much every nominee for Best Actress since 1960, and his approach to the category has been reverse chronology, so I'm going to honor his strategy by picking the most recent film that I have not seen cited for the Best Actress field, which would be Frida.  In 2002, the Best Actress category was very uniform-the same five women kept showing up at virtually every precursor & predictions list.  The strange thing about this was that while there were several newcomers (including today's nominee, Salma Hayek, who in 2002 was best-known as Matthew Perry's love interest in Fools Rush In rather than the multi-hyphenate superstar she is today), this meant that Oscar was snubbing Meryl Streep, the reigning grand dame of this category.  This is the only time that Streep has had a lead role in a Best Picture nominee (The Hours) that she wasn't nominated for, despite her being superb in the film and having three of her costars be cited for it (so clearly the acting branch was watching the movie).  I was curious in coming into Frida what it was about Hayek's work here to mark one of the only disruptions the acting categories have had in the past 40 years in bucking Streep for a film that Academy loved.

(Real Life Doesn't Have Spoiler Alerts) The movie takes a look at the life of Frida Kahlo (Hayek), an artist who was not celebrated in her time & more so really just became famous starting in the 1970's (a much swifter path to painting icon than you'd assume), and while spreading across her whole life, largely focusing on her relationship with painter Diego Rivera (Molina), who was far better known during his lifetime as an artist of renown.  The movie looks at their marriages (not properly delineating exactly that there were two), Rivera's adultery, briefly Kahlo's bisexuality, and Frida's struggle to find her own voice through her work when everyone around her is focusing on Rivera.

Frida is hard to judge based on some of the stories surrounding its production.  Hayek was reportedly repeatedly harassed by producer Harvey Weinstein, who according to a recent piece she did in the New York Times, during production constantly sexually harassed her & pressured her for sex, and when she declined, he threw up huge roadblocks to stall the production, the biggest of which was getting four name-brand stars (Rush, Judd, Banderas, & Norton) to play small parts in the movie to give it more marketability.  Hayek achieved this, and it's impossible not to respect the film for existing under those conditions.

But as it is, it's not impressive.  Hayek's performance is middling-she doesn't bring a lot of dimensionality into her work as Frida Kahlo, with us always seeing her simply as a connection to Diego Rivera's work, but rarely as a woman of her own right.  This feels like a simplification of a woman who would not only become a prominent painter (admittedly in death), but celebrated as a global icon.  It's a paint-by-numbers biopic, even with Taymor adding her own flare to the conversation, and something that I felt less than impressed by as it went on.  The film's other nominations all feel cheap as well.  The Oscar-winning score is definitely prominent, but it frequently distracts from the story & becomes its own character, and the costumes & art directions, while borrowing from Kahlo's paintings, don't jaw-drop in the way that later attempts to do this in Loving Vincent and Mr. Turner would do.  It's a neat trick (especially with the art direction), but it's not consistent enough for us to really get into it, and the rest of the work feels too much like a film set, not enough authenticity like it's actually existing onscreen.  The Makeup work is really just the eyebrow (which, while iconic, doesn't make up for the fact that Hayek is dying the way that a heroine in the 1930's would be dying onscreen-a little bit of powdered makeup, but still unabashedly glamorous).  The only nomination I can kind of get onboard with is "Burn it Blue"-it's not a grand song, but it is catchy & it fits like a glove over the film...though it is sadly not one of the many musical moments of the piece, but instead just something they slapped onto the end credits.

Final Portrait (2018)

Film: Final Portrait (2018)
Stars: Geoffrey Rush, Armie Hammer, Clemence Poesy, Tony Shalhoub
Director: Stanley Tucci
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 1/5 stars

When I first re-started this blog, one of the reasons that I did was because I had virtually no memories of the movie My Sister Eileen starring Rosalind Russell and Brian Aherne.  According to my Oscar charts, I had clearly seen the film before-it was marked in most of my Oscar charts, but for some reason when I read a description of the film on IMDB, there were no bells ringing, and thus I realized that even though I'm blessed with a weirdly good memory for the cinema, there was still a finite amount of space for the films that I had seen in my memory.  Thus, a blog where I kept track of said movies and wrote reviews I could later reference, hoping to jog my memory but at least filled with my immediate (or when I'm running behind which seems to be constantly, semi-immediate thoughts), was a blessing and something I needed to track.

What I didn't expect was to have movies now, nearly six years after bringing the blog back, that were modern that I still couldn't remember, and yet they're littered on this site.  Every year there's 1-2 movies that by the end of the year or a year later I am shocked to remember I saw, or that I really don't remember that well.  This makes sense since I see hundreds of pictures each year (both modern and classic), but it still feels like a bit of a "whoa-that was a movie" for me, particularly when they're films that got almost no ink.  It's not hard to see where I'm going with this, but if the "John of 2020" is reading this (and if you are, sign up for another phone-banking shift to beat whichever Republican is in the White House), yes, Final Portrait was a movie you saw (in an empty theater, for the record, which is cool for about two seconds and then a bummer because even bad movies you want to see make money, if only to keep the theater's lights on) & that existed.

(Real Life Doesn't Need Spoiler Alerts) The film is pretty straight-forward.  It follows famed biographer James Lord (Hammer) during the early period of his life (though not so early that this focuses on his relationship with Pablo Picasso and Dora Maar, which would have arguably made the more interesting movie), as he is painted by Alberto Giacometti (Rush).  The movie unfolds revealing the inner-turmoil and madness of Giacometti during the late period of his life, as he moved away from the world of sculpture that found him international fame and once again into painting, in what would become the final portrait of his career.  The movie's main premise is that the portrait will only take a few hours to paint, but instead takes two weeks, with Lord's patience growing thin as he learns about Giacometti.

Except, and I want to put this as clearly as possible: nothing happens.  Literally, nothing.  The movie is perplexing and an oddity in that there's virtually no conflict.  We're left to assume that Lord will eventually quarrel with Giacometti, that we'll gain more introspection of this character on-screen and the man behind the genius, but that's not really what Final Portrait is capable of accomplishing, apparently.  So thinly drawn are these characters that the famously larger-than-life Rush and the hot-off-a-career-best-performance Hammer can't begin to find a connection with these characters.  The script is paper thin, to an unusual degree (the characters, when occasionally faced with consequences, get out of them so easily you'd think this was the ninth season of a sitcom).  On some level it feels like Tucci was attempting to make a movie about the artistic process, but even there he fails.  Giacometti is made as a puttering, philandering genius, though presented oddly free of judgment from pretty much anyone on screen or off, but his process feels like that of a fool.  And yet Tucci can't seem to find a connection with a man who was one of the great artists of his generation.  The only times that the movie survives is the occasional walk through the Pere Lachaise Cemetery, and both Lord & Picasso engage in some banter & name-dropping.  Hammer & Rush are too good of actors to not make this rare bit of fun work to their advantage, relishing moments to lean into their respective charms.  But by-and-large this movie is both literally and figuratively about watching paint dry, and is so devoid of purpose it's hard to imagine a non-movie star director getting it greenlit.

PIrates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (2017)

Film: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (2017)
Stars: Johnny Depp, Javier Bardem, Brenton Thwaites, Kaya Scodelario, Kevin McNally, Geoffrey Rush
Director: Joachim Ranning and Espen Sandberg
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

It's hard to remember at this point, but there was once a time that the Pirates of the Caribbean movies were a risky bet.  The film was coming a year after The Country Bears, the first feature-length theatrical movie dedicated to a ride at a Disney theme park, had bombed spectacularly.  This was in the era where Disney wasn't quite as golden as it is currently (the animated feature that year was the largely forgettable, though admittedly profitable, Brother Bear), and pirates movies have been notoriously dodgy investments for Hollywood through the years (in 2003, you could still remember the spectacular bomb that was Cutthroat Island, the biggest Box Office disaster of all-time).  Plus, Johnny Depp was no one's idea of a bankable leading man if Tim Burton wasn't around.

Oh, how times have changed.  The Pirates franchise is now one of the most successful of all-time, having earned over $4 billion (with two of the films crossing the billion-dollar mark worldwide), and Johnny Depp came out of the film one of the most profitable stars of the past decade, as well as a three-time Oscar nominee.  The pictures have declined somewhat in quality, but they remain obvious audience favorites, particularly internationally, and while no other Disney film about a ride was able to do quite as well (with my apologies to Tomorrowland), it stands as one of the monetary crown jewels in Disney's crown, even if it feels like after the latest film it's time for the series to go the way of Davy Jones' locker.

(Spoilers Ahead) After all, the picture feels, from the start, to be a bit of a misguided adventure.  I'm one of those people who genuinely liked the epic sweep of the second and third films, particularly the second which, while nowhere near as good as the first, was still eminently watchable and featured a strong supporting performance from Bill Nighy.  The fourth movie, however, left much to be desired and felt out-of-place.  Without Will and Elizabeth, there weren't enough characters to connect us to the series from before, and Depp was starting his wilderness period as an actor, something that sadly hasn't let up despite him once being electric onscreen.

Here we have another picture that largely tries to have a standalone adventure, but one that never comes close to equalling something magical from the mid-Aughts films.  The movie centers around Salazar (Bardem), captaining yet another ship of the undead through the Caribbean (seriously-are there any actually living pirates in the ocean at this point?), who is intent on revenge on Jack Sparrow.  Why Jack Sparrow?  Because the writers can't really find any other plotlines.  Honestly, there are moments in the movie that felt like we were in a Gilligan's Island situation, like no one had seen the third or fourth film (even if you probably have if you're catching the fifth), or that hopefully no one had remembered them because they clearly were being borrowed from ferociously.

The film also feels empty in that it doesn't bring back much of the crew (Kevin McNally's Gibbs remains the only link there from the first three films), and really the stakes feel particularly low here, perhaps because the actors playing our principle love interests are so wooden.  Brenton Thwaites continues to work after his insanely bad performance in The Giver, the human equivalent of a print perfume ad come-to-life.  His chemistry with Scodelario is non-existent, and perhaps more vitally, so too is his chemistry with Depp and Orlando Bloom, who are more central to the audience anyway.  The ridiculous story about Barbossa having a daughter feels eye-rollingly tacked on, and the side comic bits feel too sparse and unused.  The film struck gold in its first entry by casting two actors who can, you know, act, as the love interests, and two that have actual chemistry.  It's never been able to recover from not being able to duplicate that.

Which is a pity, because there are undeniably interesting moments in this movie.  There's a jolting thrill in seeing Bloom and Knightley come back to their roles after the misguided On Stranger Tides, and since I hadn't had this spoiled for me by Variety I actually was shocked when they showed up as I knew they had sworn off the franchise after At World's End.  The idea of saving Will from his watery fate aboard Davy Jones locker was a wise one, as it was one of the few loose ends fans of the original series cared about, and as can be witnessed by bringing Knightley back (even wordlessly), there was still some story left there to play with.  Unfortunately, the movie is muddled down too long for this to redeem the picture, and with their chapter now properly ended, perhaps we can put this series to bed before fond memories of the original pictures is totally lost?

At least that's what i'm thinking at this point, but I'd love your thoughts.  Anyone clamoring for another adventure aboard the Black Pearl, or are we all kind of on-board with five (or perhaps three?) being enough?  Where would you want the series to set sail toward next if we did go back?  Share your thoughts below!

OVP: Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)

Film: Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)
Stars: Cate Blanchett, Geoffrey Rush, Clive Owen, Abbie Cornish, Samantha Morton, Jordi Molla, Rhys Ifans, Eddie Redmayne
Director: Shekhar Kapur
Oscar History: 2 nominations/1 win (Best Actress-Cate Blanchett, Best Costume Design*)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

Movies are not supposed to provide a history lesson.  I have frequently longed for, quite frankly, a world where history isn't quite as followed on film as it needs to be, as contrary to popular opinion truth is almost never stranger than fiction.  In fiction, you can create convenient plot devices, and utilize everything from mummies to aliens to flying men in spandex to help shelter your little universe.  As a result of this I liked the idea of Elizabeth: The Golden Age, a film that threw out multiple aspects of English and Spanish history to create a rather crowning story about a queen, someone who would eventually be considered one of England's great rulers who made several tactical mistakes during her lifetime, throwing caution to the wind and giving us a film that grossly exaggerates, bends, and occasionally just breaks history into smithereens.  What I didn't like about the film is that it occasionally features hackneyed romantic triangles, ridiculous overacting and far too much bombast from its lead.

(Spoilers Ahead) Yes, this is the review that I take one of the truly great actors of her generation, Cate Blanchett, to task a bit as this is hardly what you'd consider a fine performance.  It's not unfun, I want to point out-Blanchett overacting is still better than someone like, say, Tara Reid overacting because Blanchett's technical training and stage roots bring a theatricality to the world of Elizabeth that lesser actors wouldn't have been able to find.  However, her queen here is nowhere near the sharp, polished achievement she pulled off nine years earlier in her star-making role in the original.  Here she gives too little care to some of the subplots (such as her relationship with Sir Walter Raleigh) and is only really fun during the film's few comic bits.

Perhaps she should have gotten a lesson from Samantha Morton, who finds room to play the quiet parts of her role as Mary, Queen of Scots a bit more levelly while also finding a deliciousness in her portrayal (both women find the over-the-top privilege afforded to them as queen's, something that most movies lack because they want to make them relatable, but this is silly-these people were gods amongst men in their time, it's hard to fathom that that didn't go to their head).  The rest of the cast isn't nearly as strong as Morton or as admittedly fun as Blanchett.  Eddie Redmayne and Rhys Ifans border onto the bad as would-be assassins, while Clive Owen relies mostly on his dark eyes and enamoring accent rather than any semblance of direction for his character (Abbie Cornish, like everything she does that isn't Bright Star, is Novocaine).

If there's a cattiness to this review it's because this is a gigantic David O. Selznick style tragedy that succeeds when it's more Dynasty than Upstairs, Downstairs, but it doesn't have the good sense to stick to the trashy aspects of the film, instead deciding that the very flawed Elizabeth needs to be a hero instead of just deeply flawed.  The film's position as an Oscar-nominee puts a harsher light on the film than what it could have been (Blanchett's Mommie Dearest), and as a result I find myself critiquing it more harshly than I normally would have.  Perhaps the only person on the set who 100% got the camp of the entire thing would be costume designer Alexandra Byrne, who creates decadent, marvelous costumes for the film, particularly those worn by Elizabeth.  She has little shame while creating increasingly outlandish and gaudy (but always stunning) gowns, which normally I'd find a bit much but here it matches the mood of the film.  Byrne, a long-time Oscar bridesmaid, knew this was her moment and went to the hilt, gaining her little gold man in the process.

We'll end there, as I need to breathe from the whirlwind of feelings I had about this movie, but I'd love your thoughts.  What'd you think of Elizabeth: The Golden Age?  Do you agree that this is Blanchett's least Oscar-nominated work, or are you going to defend the scenery-chewing?  And considering the showy competition she had from Atonement and Sweeney Todd, are you on-board with Alexandra Byrne finally winning her Oscar?

In Any Other Year They Would Have Won...

Every awards cycle, I hear a lot of clichés.  Some of them are from nominees, who basically have to say them  (“it was a great year for women” has been uttered in every Best Actress race I can remember, including in years when it wasn’t a great year for women).  However, one trotted out with utter frequency by pundits is the “in any other year they would have won.”

I literally hear it every single year, and I think it’s about time we put it to rest-in any other year someone would have won is just not a viable statement, because every year features strong competitors and strong narratives.  If you aren’t taking on Helen Mirren in The Queen, it’s Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side or Reese Witherspoon in Walk the Line.

In an effort to diffuse this cliché, I figured that I would take a stab at the last five years’ worth of races and compete the “second places” against each other and who I think Oscar would have gone with for the win.  It’s not a perfect system for a variety of factors we’ll get into, but it’s darn fun and great fodder for comments (hint, hint), so I figured I’d give it a shot.  Agree or argue in the comments (and just to note, I’m going with assumed strength with Oscar, and not my personal picks, which you can peruse if you click here):

Best Supporting Actor

The Second Places: Because of the relative dominance one actor generally assumes in this race, it’s actually quite difficult to figure out the second places.  For 2009, I’m going with Harrelson over Tucci, mainly because his film had more momentum and Woody in general had more momentum at the time (and now).  In 2010, Geoffrey Rush’s BAFTA Award pushes him into silver.  Ditto Barkhad Abdi in 2013.  Tommy Lee Jones won the SAG Award in 2012, so I’ll give this to him.  And finally, we have the gargantuan Christopher Plummer in 2011-I honestly have trouble picking a runner-up here, as I personally think it was Max von Sydow, though Kenneth Branagh or Nick Nolte make more sense.  I’m going to go with Max von Sydow, because, you know, it's my blog.

Who Would Win?: Von Sydow’s film is always going to hold him back, and against such a band of well-respected veterans who are hunting for first or “overdue” second Oscars, I doubt that Abdi could take it on a film debut.  Jones probably gets discredited because he lost to arguably the weakest on-paper contender of the past five years (Waltz didn’t need another Oscar and he was the only person who wasn’t pre-ordained on Oscar night).  That leaves Rush versus Harrelson, and the relative strength of his film with the Academy compared to the minimal support for Harrelson in 2009 means Rush was the strongest second place competitor.

But Could He Have Won?: Possibly in 2012.  Waltz in 2012 is definitely the weakest contender, and wasn’t in as big of a motion picture as Rush.  I think Rush could have taken him, but none of the other four.

Best Supporting Actress

The Second Places: Unlike Best Actor, we have at least one clear second place (Jennifer Lawrence in American Hustle) so we’re four down.  I think one could make the argument that Amy Adams was in second place in 2012, but I’ll go with the more conventional choice of Sally Field.  Looking at 2011, however, I genuinely feel that Melissa McCarthy with the film’s box office and her star power on the rise was above Berenice Bejo and Jessica Chastain.  Supporting Actress in 2010 is a genuine horse race, but Hailee Steinfeld seemed to be the one who was gaining speed toward the end.  Finally, there is the crapshoot over who was in second place to Mo’Nique in 2009-honestly, you could make an argument for anyone but Cruz and I’d buy it-I’m going with Kendrick because she was A) in a Best Picture nominee and B) the Academy likes younger women to win here.

Who Would Win?: A big part of why Lawrence lost was that she had won the year before.  Subtract that and I think she’s got this race.  However, she did win the year before and that issue still persists.  McCarthy is a fairly weak second place, so she’s out, as is Kendrick for Up in the Air (I still maintain that Julianne Moore wins Best Supporting Actress in 2009 if there’s no Mo’Nique, and she didn’t even get nominated).  That leaves Steinfeld and Field, and Field’s two previous Oscars take her down here (she’s a fairly weak guess for second place too).  Steinfeld takes it (oddly giving 2010 a second win).

But Could She Have Won?: Nope.  Leo is, on-paper, the weakest of the five recent Supporting Actress winners, and Steinfeld couldn’t best her-Mo’Nique, Spencer, Hathaway, and Nyong’o are all much harder to topple.

Best Actor

The Second Places: Once again, we have one truly competitive race in 2011, so George Clooney joins the lineup for The Descendants.  I think Clooney was also in second place in 2009 for his Best Picture nominee, so let’s keep him in twice.  This past year seems to have been Ejiofor more than Dern or DiCaprio (considering the BAFTA).  Honestly, no one really came close to Day-Lewis, but Jackman’s Golden Globe at least gives me a leg to stand on (plus, he was in a Best Picture nominee), so let’s throw in Jean Valjean.  Finally, I have long felt that when pitted against the surprise Javier Bardem and the young Franco/Eisenberg combo, we may well have seen back-to-back wins for Jeff Bridges if it weren’t for Colin Firth.

Who Would Win?: Clooney was stronger for The Descendants than Up in the Air in terms of momentum.  Jackman was a relatively weak nominee and in a musical no less (not a great genre to pick up a trophy from), so he’s out.  Bridges had JUST WON, and while I suspect that wouldn’t have mattered too much (there wasn’t any fatigue for him until after the True Grit campaign ended), I think that would have cost him against Clooney and Ejiofor.  Clooney actually was a very strong on-paper contender, and I’ll go with him.  He was leading a major Best Picture nominee, hadn’t won in a few years (oddly, people tend to win second trophies relatively close to their previous win, so get on it Jennifer Lawrence and Kate Winslet), and was still wildly popular (and there was a movement to give him a lead win).  I vote Clooney.

But Could He Have Won?: It’s hard to tell against Matthew McConaughey, and how you factor in Clooney’s Oscar for Argo.  I suspect that prior to Argo he could have beat him, but with two Oscars in hand, the Academy would have thought less of the idea and stuck with McConaughey.

Best Actress

The Second Places: I have maintained for years that Annette Bening was in second place all four of the times she was nominated, so count her in as our 2010 contender with The Kids Are All Right.  It’s hard to tell between Chastain and Riva in 2012-I am going to go with Chastain by a miniscule amount, though, as she was “second place” for most of the year and I think would have toppled the Amour star.  This past year was almost surely the Oscar-absent Amy Adams, the only non-winner in the bunch.  2009 was likely Meryl hunting for that third Oscar, and 2011 was the woman she beat to get it, Viola Davis.

Who Would Win?: Streep’s performance in Julie and Julia seems too frothy to take the trophy here, so she’s out (the only reason she was so close was that it was a relatively tame year for Best Actress, hence Helen Mirren getting in for the forgettable Last Station).  Ditto Amy Adams for American Hustle, which is only in second place because no one else was.  The remaining three women were all leading Best Picture nominees, but only one had genuine momentum for Oscar, and I am feeling that here: Viola Davis.  Davis picked up the SAG Award, led the biggest hit, and while Bening probably would get close, she sadly takes yet another second place.

But Could She Have Won?: She obviously couldn’t have beat Streep, and I'd argue that Bullock, Blanchett, and Lawrence had stronger locks on their trophies than Streep.  I do, however, think Davis would have taken down Natalie Portman.  Davis was in the more Academy friendly movie and Portman doesn’t give the same level of speeches and red carpet that Meryl Streep does.  I say Viola by a nose, but it would have been extremely close.

Best Director

The Second Places: Since we cannot go with Ben Affleck (oh how the Oscars wanted to), surely Steven Spielberg was the second place in 2012.  Ditto James Cameron, who infamously lost to his ex-wife for Avatar.  David Fincher’s The Social Network was probably closer to losing to David O. Russell’s The Fighter than one would suspect (The Social Network is not the Academy’s cup of tea), but it makes more sense for second place (let’s not rock the boat too much).  Steve McQueen surely was the second place this past year considering his film landed Best Picture.  And then there’s 2011, which was such a landslide for The Artist that it’s hard to tell whether Hugo (which tied the Best Picture winner for most wins) or The Descendants would have made it.  I’m going to split the difference and put Alexander Payne in here and Marty in the Best Picture race.

Who Would Win?: Not David Fincher, even if his film is almost surely the “best”-that film was too youth-oriented for Oscar.  I would normally say Spielberg in a walk, but he lost to weaker competition (had he lost to Affleck, for example, I would say he would have been the strongest), so I’m discounting him as well (this theorizing also points out the arbitrary nature of this endeavor, but again-still fun!).  Of the remaining three, Cameron is famously insufferable to work with and Payne’s film wasn’t that strong in the race (it only won one Oscar), so I’ll defer to McQueen, who directed a Best Picture winner.

But Could He Beat a Winner?: Best Director is rare because it has the only “surprise” winner of the past six years in a major category-Ang Lee in 2012.  Lee won because of a very weakened field (no Affleck to stampede to the trophy), and so yes, I think McQueen could have taken Lee.  I also think that he would have been able to stump Tom Hooper in 2010-The King’s Speech was fairly light as far as Oscar was concerned, and a larger epic could have knocked it out.  I’d also say that Hazanavicious would be bettered by McQueen-another case of a bigger film and bigger director.  McQueen comes the closest, therefore, to the “in any other year” argument, though I say that Bigelow trumps him.

Best Picture

The Second Places: Some of these, like Best Director, seem relatively easy.  Avatar, The Social Network, and as I’ve just mentioned Hugo all are strong favorites for the silver.  Gravity, with its seven Oscars and a Best Director trophy, is an easy choice.  2012, however, presents a conundrum.  Conventional wisdom would be that the Steven Spielberg biopic Lincoln would be the frontrunner, but Life of Pi was the award leader and took Best Director.  I think it was closer than Lincoln in the way that The Pianist probably got closer to Chicago than Gangs of New York.

Who Would Win?: Hugo and Life of Pi are films coasting off of major directors, and while that frequently gets you nominated, it rarely gets you a trophy-both are out.  The Social Network is too young for this crowd.  That leaves Avatar and Gravity, both of which are major box office draws in genres that Oscar abhors.  Gravity, though, got seven Oscars and a Best Director trophy-it was a very strong contender and crucially got an acting nomination.  I say it comes out on-top (though if these were the actual nominees vote-splitting would have been a very real possibility leading something like Hugo to get in, but I digress-we're going with Gravity).

But Could It Beat a Winner?: The weakest Best Picture was probably The Hurt Locker (which was a frontrunner, but mostly due to Bigelow, and a split could have happened).  However, it’s near impossible to see Gravity winning without Cuaron as well, so I’d say no, Gravity couldn’t take down a Best Picture winner.

And there we have it-overall, with the exception maybe of McQueen, we’ve proven that the phrase is uttered WAY too much by Oscar pundits.  What are your thoughts-do you agree/disagree with my reasoning?  Share in the comments!

OVP: The Book Thief (2013)

Film: The Book Thief (2013)

Stars: Sophie Nelisse, Geoffrey Rush, Emily Watson, Ben Schnetzer, Nico Liersch

Director: Brian Percival

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Original Score)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

I’ve never read the book.  There, I’ve said it, now just look away while I hide my shame.  Don’t you feel this way sometimes when there’s a movie made of a book that you clearly should have read by now (The Help is another recent example, as is Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close).  It’s not like not reading Twilight or even The Hunger Games-those are for a certain cliques of teenage girls, and the rest of the world just happened to enjoy them too.  The Book Thief was a critical and commercial smash, and is something we all should have read by now, considering how long it’s been on the shelves of our local Target.  But I haven’t, and while I own it and part of me wanted to quickly read it before I wrote this review, I probably won’t get to it until my annual Christmas book extravaganza (I celebrate Christmas in a land with no internet or Blu-Ray players, so catching up on reading is the best thing I can do at that time).

Anyway, since I hadn’t read the book, I didn’t know going into this film what to expect, and while it was wildly predictable, I didn’t hate the movie (I haven’t read the reviews yet, but considering the Rotten Tomatoes score I’d imagine that they found it saccharine and schmaltzy).  My gut reaction with these sorts of stories is to roll my eyes-children who find adventure in the harshest of times is a really, really tired narrative that has been done a thousand times, but like all familiar stories, they can be revitalized when you have the write combination of actors and characters.

(Spoilers Ahead) In this way, the film succeeds, particularly when you look at the two parents of our young heroine Liesel (Nelisse).  Both her adopted mother Rosa (Watson) and father Hans (Rush) fit neatly into the archetypes of stereotypical adoptive parents (she’s stern, he’s indulgent), but these are not performers that one tosses away lightly, and while the film is far too cheerful and pristine for a War film (it looks like most of the movie was shot within a Christmas card), Rush, and particularly Watson find moments to anchor with gravitas and a little bit of hidden depth.  There’s a great scene with Watson and Nelisse in her school where she pulls her out of class to tell her that the Jewish man living with them (the gorgeous Ben Schnetzer) won’t die of pneumonia.  This moment gives Watson a great scene to hold back when other actresses would have gone further, fighting for more emotional pull when less is more.

The movie checkmarks all of the usual boxes when it comes to a World War II film-the rise of Hitler, the persecution of Jews in hiding, the enormous overreach of the Gestapo-but it never finds a new way to tell the story.  Though I hadn’t read the story to know what was originally in the book, I do know that it translates very well cinematically.  There’s no scenes where I felt “ this doesn’t make sense,” which is usually the hallmark of a bad translation.  I will say, though, that not all of the elements worked that were clear carry-overs from the novel, principally Death as the narrator.  I was speaking with my dad (who has read the book) and learned that it wasn’t always apparent in the novel that Death was the narrator, which is clever in its own way, but doesn’t work onscreen.  In particular, when Death, after the bombing of the city, starts listing the people who have died as a result of this destruction, I found everything about the scene very anticlimactic.  I could see how this would be brilliantly effective in the book (the way each sentence would pluck away a character that you thought would live), but in the film it seems too melodic, and doesn’t give you the same emotional impact.

I have maintained a pretty confident swagger regarding the film and Oscar, and though the reviews have made me rethink that, I do think it has a serious pair of chances with Academy favorites John Williams (the composer) and Anna B. Sheppard (the costume designer).  Williams has been discussed here many times before, but it is extraordinarily rare for him to miss out on a nomination, and this is his only film this year that could potentially make the cut.  The music has all of his trademark lush strings, and while some may argue that it’s a bit safe, that’s what the Academy enjoys here, and there’s no denying the artistry.  Plus, I think the Academy, if they see the film, will have the same reaction as my aunt, who whispered as the first credits started to roll, “this is beautiful music,” and then saw Williams’ name and said, “oh, well now that makes sense.”

Sheppard received both of her previous Oscar nominations for Holocaust films (Schindler’s List and The Pianist) and this year has a marked lack of major period films (at least the periods Oscar usually goes for).  Outside of The Great Gatsby, The Wolf of Wall Street, and 12 Years a Slave, I don’t see a really strong fourth and fifth nominee, and the Costume branch is more than happy to go with a flop when they need to do so.

Either way, I think this is a pleasant enough film to see with a loved one, even if it adds little of substance.  What were your thoughts?  For those of you who loved the novel, what was your reaction?  And do you think Sheppard or Williams can sneak in and get this film into the OVP?  Share in the comments!

OVP: Supporting Actor (2010)

OVP: Best Supporting Actor (2010)

The Nominees Were...

Christian Bale, The Fighter

John Hawkes, Winter's Bone

Jeremy Renner, The Town

Mark Ruffalo, The Kids Are Alright

Geoffrey Rush, The King's Speech

My Thoughts: And now we enter the Big Six Oscar categories.  We proceed into this category with a fairly typical lineup of supporting actors: a leading man slumming it in Best Supporting Actor (though he's arguably in the wrong category), an afterglow nomination for a recently discovered talent, a longtime character actor finally getting a role that matches his talent, an Indy actor getting a random nomination when he should be on number three, and a former winner.

I remember seeing John Hawkes in a play when I was a kid-he was native to near my hometown, and I was star-struck, despite him being just a bit player in Hollywood at the time.  Ten years later, he managed to win the character actor lottery and got a beautiful part in a movie that got him all the way to the Oscars.

The performance is exquisite, in a film that improves dramatically with time.  Hawkes knows the difference between what his character is saying and what he's doing-I love the way that he spends so much of the film warning Ree to stay away, to not get interested in what her father is doing, and then he largely does the opposite, helping her along the way and finding himself in trouble as a result.  Hawkes has such a gravel-y, decayed aspect to his movements, rundown from years of overwork and drugs, and yet has enough wit and nerve in him to prove that there's a reason he's survived all of these years in this hellish Ozark wilderness.

Jeremy Renner doesn't have the same connection with his manic bank robber that Hawkes does.  There is a strong chemistry that he has with Affleck's character; he gets that the friendship that they currently enjoy is out of comfort and obligation, not out of any sort of continued love or residing admiration.  Renner, however, doesn't have the restraint that Hawkes does, at least not in this particular role.  His performance oftentimes pushes a little too much into scenery-chewing villain, and as he becomes more and more unhinged, the performance shows less and less restraint.  He's the best thing about the movie, but that isn't saying a whole lot as there's nothing as eye-catching as him in the film, even if he's over-the-top.  Renner, since his critically-acclaimed two-year, two-nomination run in 2009/10 has gone the way of Nicolas Cage-blockbuster after blockbuster (some good, some Gone in 60 Seconds level), and I'm starting to worry that he, like Cage, is gone for good from quality films.  He's still got killer arms though.

Mark Ruffalo is an actor that I have loved for such a long time, to finally see him in an Oscar lineup is a treat, as I'd be on my third nomination for him by now.  His work as Terry in You Can Count on Me is one of those performances I watch over-and-over, marveling at its brilliance and the way he makes a thoroughly unlikable guy seem so appealing.  Seven years later, he would be just as wonderful as the tired, increasingly lost detective he played in Zodiac (a film that hardly anyone remembers anymore, and they should, as it's a billion times superior to David Fincher's latest serial killer film Girl with the Dragon Tattoo).

In this film, however, he ditches the detective and goes back to the laid-back, "whatever" bohemian we know him to be from other roles.  Ruffalo nails the initial reactions to the idea that he has kids-a springy mix of intrigue and reluctance, with intrigue winning over, of course (honestly, if you're in his shoes and discover you have a child, you want to meet them regardless of how surprised you are they may exist).  He also gives such realistic pain in the film's final scenes, as he pleads to be back in the children's lives.  He understands at that point where his road has been leading, and knows that he has been given a rare opportunity into this world that he was never meant to be a part of, and has wasted the relationship with the only children he'll ever really have.  Ruffalo's vocal cracks, the way he just sort of mumbles out his off-the-cuff responses-it's a hipster vocal intonation that only a seasoned character actor could pull off so well.

These three were likely just afterthoughts when it came to actual Oscar voting, as the obvious first and second places were filled by the final two men, both of whom one could argue were the lead, rather than supporting, actors in their films.  For Christian Bale, this nomination was a longtime coming.  After years of manic weight gains, cult followings (someday I will understand why every straight guy I was friends with in college wanted to grow up to be Patrick Bateman, but probably not today), and critical acclaim, he finally got a role that could combine both his transformative sensibilities with a film that was friendly enough for Oscar to latch onto it.

Bale is a good actor, but I never really loved him in this role specifically.  I found the scenes to calculating, too click-click-click.  He always seems to be Christian Bale playing Dicky, and not Dicky himself.  The way that he persistently flies off the handle, has entered into a state of delusion, it seems like he's working too hard to underline, bold, and exclamation point all of the tics of the character.  I think that Bale is better when he's subtler, and this role, while no one was ever going to play it subtle, would gain so much from making it harder for Mickey to disown his brother.  The screenplay makes him stretch it on and on, but as an audience we have trouble connecting so much that we believe that Mickey would struggle with the decision.  Family is family, but Bale's Dicky doesn't have the intoxicating magnetism or the overpowering moxie, that, say Melissa Leo's Alice does, and so I never quite bought his character in the way that I bought Leo's.

Unlike Bale, Geoffrey Rush has never had difficulty getting noticed by the Oscars.  Though he won his first Oscar as a leading actor, most of his best work is at the sidelines, spouting off bon mots and clever observations with the flare of a late-career John Gielgud (can't you just imagine him in this role with Richard Burton as King George?).  This is what fits him best-too much Geoffrey Rush is definitely a thing, and his scenery-eating ways often get in the way of the best moments of his performances.  He's actually far more appropriate in a film like Pirates of the Caribbean, where overacting is a good thing, than he is in costume dramas, where his loud, swinging work is a bit outlandish for the surroundings.  The overacting doesn't grind the way that Bale's does, to the point where you wonder why anyone would put up with him (they have vastly different character arcs as well, which helps), but it doesn't ring as a performance that merited inclusion in such a field.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes found room for both Andrew Garfield in The Social Network and in a clear case of celebrity-loving, Michael Douglas in Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, keepin Mark Ruffalo and John Hawkes out of the final five (Christian Bale was the victor).  The SAG Awards were actually a carbon copy of the Oscars (the only category they did that in in 2010), and also went with Bale as the winner.  Finally, the BAFTA Awards, generally favoring British actors, only had room for one American: Mark Ruffalo, cutting both Jeremy Renner and John Hawkes in favor of Andrew Garfield (almost certainly the sixth place in the field) and Renner's costar, the late Pete Postelthwaite.  The King's Speech was an unstoppable force at the BAFTA's that year, and so it carried Geoffrey Rush along for the ride.

Performances I Would Have Nominated: Supporting Actor is always the field I get the most disgusted with Oscar.  They typically will pick at least one of my best of the year, but Geoffrey Rush, Jeremy Renner, and I'm sorry, even Christian Bale are all fairly lazy "inside-the-box" picks in my opinion.  They're not bad, but they just aren't up to the level of some of the best work of the year.  It's partially because the category is surprisingly ageist, ruling out younger performances (it's odd because Supporting Actress almost gets to the point where they nominate too many younger performers).  Miles Teller, for example, may be in his screen debut, but his work in Rabbit Hole as a young man trying to come to terms with how he accidentally killed a little boy with his car, is a complicated role that he still manages to pull off in a way few veteran actors could even find success.  Even better is the dual roles that Andrew Garfield acted in Never Let Me Go and The Social Network.  I've struggled to figure out which one I like better, but I think it'd have to be the privileged, short-changed Eduardo that tops the doomed, lovelorn Tommy.  Whichever one you go with, it's hard to imagine how Oscar felt it appropriate not to include him in some capacity-his combined work is easily the best of the year for this category, and a great star-is-born turn for the future Spider-Man.
Oscar's Choice: Oscar made the relatively easy choice of honoring the never-nominated Bale over the already-winning Geoffrey Rush.  The better question for everyone was who was in third (my guess would be Hawkes, but that's based on nothing but intuition).

My Choice: It's a tough call between Hawkes and Ruffalo, tougher than I figured it would be when I started writing this piece, but I'm going to go with my initial gut choice of Ruffalo.  His character is tougher to pull off, and the blending of comedy with the dramatic makes me check my box for him.  In third would be Rush, followed by Bale, and finally Renner.

How about you-were you absolutely behind Christian Bale, or did you like me think the performance was overrated?  If you did, who was your choice for the big trophy?  Which performance was in third place (I'd love an argument on that one, as I'm at a loss for who would be the guess)?  And which Andrew Garfield performance was the superior?  Comment away!

Also in 2010: Original Screenplay, Adapted Screenplay, Foreign Film, Animated Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume, Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, Previously in 2010

Past Best Supporting Actor Contests: 2011