OVP: The Stranger (1946)

Film: The Stranger (1946)

Stars: Orson Welles, Edward G. Robinson, Loretta Young, Philip Merivale, Konstantin Shayne

Director: Orson Welles

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Motion Picture Story)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2022 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different Classical Hollywood star who made their name in the early days of television.  This month, our focus is on Loretta Young: click here to learn more about Ms. Young (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

The last two weeks we went through some wild shifts in Loretta Young's career and public persona.  While she'd been able to pull off some unique and more audacious roles in the early 1930's, the Hays Code and Young's relative conservatism offscreen led her to play very similar "beautiful saint" type roles for much of the rest of her career.  This was solidified in terms of her public persona in the 1940's with her three-decade marriage to Tom Lewis, providing even less fodder for Hollywood gossip rags after her quickie annulment marriage in the early 1930's and association with Clark Gable.  However, Young did make one film in the 1940's that feels atypical & also is widely-celebrated today, and before we get to a relatively typical film that we'd expect from Young during this era next week, we're going to discuss probably the best movie she ever made, and for sure the film that stands up the best upon scrutiny decades later: Orson Welles' The Stranger.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie takes place in the immediate aftermath of World War II, in an idyllic Connecticut town.  There we find Professor Charles Rankin (Welles) who is about to marry the daughter of a Supreme Court Justice named Mary (Young).  We also learn that the man we've been tracking for the first ten minutes of the movie, a war criminal named Meinike (Shayne) is looking for Rankin, and knows him to actually be Franz Kindler, a Nazi and the architect of the Holocaust.  Kindler murders Meinike to cover up his intentions, which are to wait out in this Connecticut town until the Nazis "inevitably" come to power again.  The only problem for Kindler is that a detective named Wilson (Robinson) is on his trail, knowing of Kindler's obsession with clocks (which Welles spends much of the film working on the large town clock) and that Meinike is the only person who knows his real identity.  This sets up a game of chess between the two men (or checkers, as it were, which play as a subplot metaphor between Kindler & Wilson), with Kindler trying to find a way to cover his tracks...potentially even if it means having to kill Mary to do it.

The Stranger is really well-constructed.  Welles never really made a bad movie in my opinion, and this one with the backing of a studio (RKO) meant that he could spend money, and it doesn't go to waste.  The art direction is superb, as is the cinematography (all of those random angles in the clock tower make it harder to know exactly what is happening, which adds to the suspense of the final face-off between Young, Robinson, & Welles).  Robinson & Welles play well together, and I wasn't entirely sure they would (they're both very stylized actors, but Robinson is more sandpaper and Welles is more cashmere, and I thought that wouldn't gel but it does).  The film was nominated for Best Motion Picture Story, and the way that it's structured (no tight ends-at less than 90 minutes this is a taut film) it's hard to argue with this inclusion.  I love the way that late in the film a plan that Kindler has executed works perfectly as far as he's aware...only to discover later that Mary has accidentally screwed it up by not knowing what the plan is about.  Or the way that Wilson realizes that Kindler is suspicious not because of his bombastic views on fascism, but instead because of his casual antisemitism which shows his actual beliefs.  It's good stuff, and I get why The Stranger is the one film in Welles' directorial filmography that was an unquestioned hit for the studio.

As for our star?  While she's not in the same league as Welles & Robinson in terms of elevating her role, she's really good in this.  It's a smaller part (despite Young's position on the poster, we'd consider this a "supporting" role today as the leads are Robinson & Welles), but she's perfectly-cast here.  Welles knows exactly how to play off of Young's real-life persona with his director, having her play the "perfect wife" but showing how that can make her complicit in some really ugly things.  To Young's credit, she nails the part exactly the way that you'd need to make it chilling.  We know Kindler is evil, we know Mary is good...but the film makes a point of showing that Mary knows far more about Kindler's actions (even if she doesn't know he's a Nazi) to the point where she's covering up a murder the back half of the film, putting multiple people's lives at stake.  Throw in her really strong third act when she finally wants revenge on Kindler & to take him down, and you've got a great piece-of-work from the actress, and one that stands apart in her collective filmography.

OVP: Mank (2020)

Film: Mank (2020)

Stars: Gary Oldman, Amanda Seyfried, Lily Collins, Arliss Howard, Tom Pelphrey, Sam Troughton, Tom Burke, Charles Dance

Director: David Fincher

Oscar History: 10 nominations/2 wins (Best Picture, Director, Actor-Gary Oldman, Supporting Actress-Amanda Seyfried, Production Design*, Cinematography*, Costume Design, Makeup & Hairstyling, Score, Sound)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

It has been said by many that Citizen Kane is the greatest film of all-time.  It is so storied in the pantheon of classic cinema that you'd be forgiven, upon viewing it for the first time, for wondering if it can live up to the hype, and for some modern film fans it doesn't.  I am not one of those fans.  While "greatest of all-time" might not be the phrase I'd name-check, Citizen Kane would rank toward, if not into, my all-time Top 10, and I think it's breathtaking, and the sort of movie that gets better with every repeat viewing.  As a result, having David Fincher, one of the best directors working, tackle the movie & its bizarre behind-the-scenes politics, felt like a wish fulfilled, but it also presented a problem.  Mank for me is what Citizen Kane is for many-a movie with such astronomical expectations (particularly after a cinematic year with more middling pictures than outright successes), that it'd be impossible to exactly live up to them.  After all, if Citizen Kane can't live up to its own hype despite being basically flawless, how could any other movie live up to Citizen Kane?

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie plays a little bit with the truth, so I'll establish what happens onscreen.  The film alternates between the "present" where Herman Mankiewicz (Oldman), a storied screenwriter (though not always credited, he was the man behind film classics like Dinner at Eight and The Wizard of Oz, and was a producer on most of the Marx Brothers' best pictures) is writing a screenplay that we understand to be Citizen Kane, while alternating back to what led him to being in a shack, writing what would be a career-killing script.  The script is an issue for the writer because it's obviously inspired by William Randolph Hearst (Dance), one of the most powerful newspaper men in the country, skewering both the publisher & his mistress actress Marion Davies (Seyfried).  As the film goes on, we learn some of the sources of Mank's hatred of Hearst, as well as studio chief Louis B. Mayer (Howard), stemming from their involvement in the 1934 California gubernatorial election, which pitted conservative Frank Merriam against socialist icon Upton Sinclair, with Sinclair losing in part because Hollywood studio bosses forced their talent to make propaganda films against him, even though they supported his campaign.  The movie ends with Mank, despite the problems it would cause him, demanding screen credit for the film, thus ending his working relationship with Orson Welles (Burke), but winning him his only Oscar.

Mank is a beautiful movie (it's criminal, and I can't even really stomach it, that this movie won't be seen by most on the big-screen as Eric Messerschmidt's cinematography is moody & glossy & glorious); in a year of less-than-inspired camerawork, this stands out so hard it's difficult to see a way that Messerschmidt doesn't get his first Oscar nomination, and probably a win.  The costumes are splendid, the sound work impeccable (creating so much atmosphere)-Mank is the sort of movie that comes about from having both money & taste.

The film pays homage repeatedly to its inspiration.  I have seen Citizen Kane more times than I can count, so I don't know what it would be like to see this movie without it as a touchpoint, but I suspect it won't read as magical.  Mank recalls certain key scenes from the original movie without always underlining it-things like the long dining room table or the cacophonous sound work, the way that everyone keeps pointing out that Marion is the inspiration for Charles Foster Kane's second wife, but that Mank's wife Sarah is hinted at in Kane's first spouse...Jack Fincher's script combs through the movie and along with Messerschmidt's work, gives us visual cues to the original film that have just a hint of malice (if you don't notice the clear parallels that Fincher also gives to our modern political climate & of course Donald Trump, you're not paying attention).

Like I said above, it's impossible to try to be Citizen Kane and not fall short-Citizen Kane is considered the greatest film of all time for a reason, and it's hard to compare it to other movies without them found lacking, and Mank is not perfect.  The ending in particular feels like you need a Film History major to understand it (which luckily for you I have).  Orson Welles is backgrounded as an almost mythic creature throughout most of the movie, and that the climax relies so heavily on him & the famed claims of Pauline Kael that Welles deserved minimal credit for the screenplay of the film (that it should have gone entirely to Mankiewicz) is where fact & Hollywood lore blend, and it makes the final payoff feel a little bit like Fincher didn't keep watching the dailies to know who had become the villain of his picture.

But up until that point Mank delivers in every conceivable way  It's a cruel noir, one with lots of gems & tiny performances.  Amanda Seyfried has been getting much of the credit for the acting in the film, and she deserves for being best on the call sheet (she knows how to make Marion the smartest person in the room even when she's pretending to be the dumbest), but the cast is uniformly good, filling out every corner of the screen with solid, brief cameos.  Oldman feels born to play this part, his boozy charm radiating even through Mank's ugliest moments.  And as a result, Mank is the rare movie this year that lives up to the hype, that feels like it'll escape 2020's grasp as a classic to be revisited, a picture confident enough in its own quality that it can stay firmly in the shadow of a greater movie without losing its luster.

Oscar's 15 Biggest Snubs

We're in the heat of Oscar season, and as someone who has been writing about the Oscars for seven years straight on this blog, I have written a lot of things about the Academy Awards.  I don't have access to insider information about the Oscars (even in an era of everything being on social media almost instantly, there's still something to be said for interviewing theoretical nominees or attending press events), so it's occasionally a slight challenge to come up with unique things to say about the Oscars, especially since we spend so much time in the past here and have done so many trivia articles through the years (plug time: if you're newer to this blog, peruse the tags on the side, especially "Lists" and "Official OVP Ballot" if you want to look at hundreds of different dissections of past Oscar races).

So color me surprised when I realized I've never done a list of the biggest Oscar snubs of all-time.  It's hard to corner down the biggest snubs ever in Oscars history, so we're going to focus today on the acting races, and a Top 15 list of performances.  This is obviously subjective, but below are the 15 best performances ever that I think most definitely should have been nominated for the Oscar, and in most cases, should've won the statue.

A couple of notes before you dive in.  First, you'll notice I don't repeat any movies, and that's on purpose.  A few of these films didn't get any Oscar love in any category, and so it'd be easy to put the entire ensemble on this list, but that'd be boring (I tried, and failed, to not duplicate actors as one person gave two performances I refused to ignore).  So Kim Novak or Charles Bronson, I see you and I'm sorry-know you'll also be nominated when the time comes.  Second, there are more men than women on this list, but that has less to do with qualitative dissections of film, and more to do with me agreeing more often with the Oscars on female performances than male.  And lastly, these are old movies.  While I could just as easily have come up with a list of 15 performances from the past decade Oscar should have noticed (and might well do that if I do any "Best of Decade" lists next year), only a couple of films on this list I think have had enough time to breathe for me to realize that they're "indisputable snubs."  With that said, dive in and fight me in the comments!

15. Andy Griffith (A Face in the Crowd)

A harrowing look at a man the world wants to just be simple, but instead is a malevolent, cruel creation, only someone who could portray "sweet as pie" like Andy Griffith could shock us all as Lonesome Rhodes (the obvious correlations to Trump 50 years before he'd become president are indisputable & petrifying).

14. Rita Hayworth (The Lady from Shanghai)

I wrote once that Rita Hayworth is the greatest actor of all-time to never be nominated for an Oscar, so you knew she'd show up here.  Her Rosalie is an enigma, the kind of woman that drives men mad...and while they're entranced she gets exactly what she wants.

13. Michael Stuhlbarg (Call Me by Your Name)

Yes, he should have gotten in for the speech alone.  But the speech wouldn't work without his subtle groundwork beforehand, watching his son endure love-and-loss in the same summer.  Stuhlbarg has been a reliable character actor for a decade now, but has never been so tender as CMBYN.

12. Orson Welles (The Third Man)

Harry Lime is everything we came to expect from Orson Welles.  Possibly the greatest actor of his generation (give or take Brando & Ingrid Bergman), Welles brings a devilish charm to Harry in The Third Man, almost making you forget that he's been gone for half of the picture, and once you realize what he's been up to, you understand why "devilish" is the right term for Welles' work.

11. Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story)

Jimmy Stewart is a fine actor and lovely in The Philadelphia Story.  He's also giving the third best performance in the movie.  The best work in the film wasn't even nominated, with Cary Grant giving the finest acting of his long career, playing the most "Cary Grant" role ever, and defining the suave, delicious persona that would keep him a star for decades.

10. Marcello Mastroianni (8 1/2)

When I sit down with cinephiles, few directors inspire more argument than Fellini.  Hell, put me in front of a mirror and bring up Fellini, and I'll argue with myself.  But I will stand no assertion that 8 1/2 isn't perfect, and no performance in his filmography is as effective as Mastroianni's, breathing life into his wandering director.

9. Jeanne Moreau (Jules and Jim)

The two title characters can easily be pushed aside, because for anyone who has seen this movie, there is only Catherine.  A picture of romance, drama, comedy, and at parts even horror, Jeanne Moreau became one of the indisputable faces of the French New Wave with this gorgeous, chaotic free spirit.

8. Anthony Perkins (Psycho)

Perkins work in Psycho so often features on these kinds of lists, it borders on cliche.  But how do you deny such a fully-realized creation, a monster whose evil is easy to identify, but impossible to forgive?  Every detail in his performance comes to light with clarity upon repeat viewings, but you are still shocked by Norman's plans thanks to his handsome uneasiness.

7. John Wayne (The Searchers)

Anyone who says John Wayne can't act needs to watch The Searchers.  John Ford's magnum opus also puts the Duke in his most challenging and effective role, Ethan Edwards.  Wayne finds the heart in a cruel, inhuman (but all-too-real) man, wandering through the desert until he no longer understands what he's looking for...perhaps his own soul?

6. Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby)

Kate Hepburn was hardly at a loss for Oscar nominations-she was cited 12 times, and won 4.  That said, it still feels weird that the best thing Hepburn ever did in her career, her kooky Susan in Bringing Up Baby, somehow didn't get her nominated.  In the same year as her classic Holiday, was the Academy just not ready to admit they had a crush on the actress yet?

5. James Stewart (Vertigo)

If Cary Grant's going to take Best Actor in 1940, one could make a sincere argument that Jimmy Stewart should have won later for his Scotty Ferguson.  Vertigo was a financial disappointment, which is still no excuse for skipping the best work of this actor's career, as a man driven insane by lust, then heartbreak, and then just madness.

4. Brad Pitt (The Tree of Life)

Terrence Malick is always the star in a Terrence Malick picture-that's what the world-famous actors who sign up for his films are aware of when they take the job.  That said, Brad Pitt still manages to give one of the best auteur vessel performances I've ever seen as Mr. O'Brien, a man who would haunt his son's adulthood for decades in ways he couldn't understand.

3. Orson Welles (Touch of Evil)

Giving Stewart a run for his money is the other grand teton of 1958's Best Actor category, Orson Welles (I swear that's not a fat joke).  By this time Hollywood had no use for the former Boy Wonder, but that didn't stop him from making a movie like Touch of Evil, essentially the Unforgiven of film noir-his racist, corrupt detective pulled the mask off of what was lurking behind the Golden Age's treatment of the genre.

2. Henry Fonda (Once Upon a Time in the West)

Imagine casting Henry Fonda as a villain.  Nwo imagine him as a vicious man in black, with those piercing blue eyes staring down on a horrified Claudia Cardinale, and a ticking clock western where it's so well-structured you genuinely don't know who is getting out alive.  In a career where Oscar rarely called, this is Fonda's best work and more than earned him a trophy.

1. John Huston (Chinatown)

Huston's performance in Chinatown may be the best Supporting Actor performance, period.  His Noah Cross is a villain for the ages, able to conceal under his peculiar vocal cadence unmitigated evil, and justification for that evil as the movie unfolds.  Look at him, his head always turning, even as the credits role-Huston dazzles in Chinatown as if acting was what he was born for.

The Other Side of the Wind (2018)

Film: The Other Side of the Wind (2018)
Stars: John Huston, Oja Kodar, Peter Bogdanovich, Susan Strasberg, Norman Foster, Bob Random, Lilli Palmer, Edmond O'Brien, Mercedes McCambridge, Tonio Stewart
Director: Orson Welles
Oscar History: The film was declared ineligible for Best Score, but the film was still eligible in other categories; that it wasn't nominated is a damn shame.
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

We complete our mini-tribute to the best 2018 films that Oscar didn't find room for, though considering the unusual nature of this film coming to exist, this might be the most understandable (if not necessarily forgivable) of the three "snubs."  After all, almost every person involved with this movie is dead, because The Other Side of the Wind is more of a film of 1970 than 2018.  The final flick directed by Orson Welles, long-gestating on a shelf, had become the stuff of cinematic legend since I began studying film, one of the greatest movies never made, until Netflix came along and saved the picture by working with Beatrice Welles (the director's daughter) and Oja Kodar (one of the film's stars and screenwriters) to ensure it would could be edited and seen.  The result was a dream for cinema-lover's everywhere-the actual release of a movie that had been talked about in hushed tones for decades.  I watched it with baited breath, and felt almost winded by the experience afterwards, it was that intense to finally be a part of the Master's final work, decades after he made it and even after his demise.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is made in a mockumentary-style, and isn't really a movie that is supposed to be summed up with a plot as is our wont on this site for the first paragraph of a review, but I'll try.  Essentially, we have Jake Hannaford (Huston), a once-brilliant Hollywood director whom we find out at the beginning of the picture has died on his 70th birthday in a car accident.  Hannaford's movies had become out-of-fashion, and he had been trying to reinvent himself in the New Hollywood-style with a violent, sexually charged, and ambiguous picture entitled The Other Side of the Wind.  We then hear flashbacks about the last night of Hannaford's life, when a party was happening at his home that was supposed to be a screening of the picture, but instead turned into a disjointed look at his own life, as well as key figures in his life such as protege Brooks Otterlake (Bogdanovich), film critic Juliette Riche (Strasberg), and Zarah Valeska (Palmer), an aging beauty & seemingly the only person who is willing to call out Hannaford for some of his more heinous actions & behaviors.  As the film progresses, it's clear that most people don't understand the movie, and aren't impressed by it, and instead they're more interested in the decay of a once great man, as well as getting soused on his booze while it's still flowing.  Questions about Hannaford's sexuality are thrown about (which arise as much from the reporters that seem to pop up everywhere in his house as from the way the we see from the movie-within-the-movie how he carefully frames the perfect posterior of his leading man, who has quit the production and seems to have doomed the film).  The movie ends in a drive-in theater, with everyone driving away, including Hannaford (likely to his death after his leading man refuses to ride in the car with him), with only one person, his unnamed leading woman (Kodar) standing and continuing to watch the movie, the only person whom it spoke toward.

The film isn't meant to be particularly linear.  This is a movie it would be impossible to watch from another room & is not one for your cell phone; Netflix deserves massive credit for finally letting this picture see the light of day, but it is most definitely intended to be viewed on a big-screen with your rapt attention.  The party scenes will not be for everyone-frequently Welles goes into almost Terrence Malick-style runs of visuals (except Malick would never allow so much dialogue), but I LOVED this movie.  I have always been a sucker for Welles as a director, as I think he finds fascinating things to do and say about his characters, and as Wind indicates, he never really lost his touch for making important, seismic movies in the vein of Citizen Kane or Touch of Evil.  The film's screenplay is rich with depth and shows up well in repeat viewings.

The film is littered with great performances, as was Welles's wont (I know I'm a fanboy, but honestly-name a stronger actor-turned-director who also managed to get strong performances out of his entire cast).  Pretty much everyone has someone in mind from Welles's real-life that they're impersonating here, but the creations are unique enough that they feel like fictional creations.  Huston is going after Ernest Hemingway, John Ford, Orson Welles, and himself seemingly all-at-once, and this is an indication of what his greatest performance would be just a few years later when he would tackle Noah Cross in Chinatown (for my money, among the best supporting actor performances ever).  Lilli Palmer wasn't Welles's first choice for the part of Zareh, as both Marlene Dietrich and Jeanne Moreau were considered before Palmer eventually got the part, but she can monologue just as well as Dietrich, and no one can monologue like Dietrich.  Strasberg's Pauline Kael impression is grating but also knowing (as if Strasberg was aware that Kael would occasionally have a point even if filmmakers didn't agree with it), and a host of actors who had littered Mercury productions for years make it feel almost like a series finale as much as a movie.

About the only complaint I have about the film is what its distribution model represents.  Welles admittedly didn't live very long into the home video era, but as he was far more attuned to bringing art directly to the masses, it's hard to imagine he'd approve a system where his films could be locked away forever.  The Other Side of the Wind is the kind of movie the Criterion Collection was made for, with its marquee director and artsy approach.  That Netflix will continue to have the ability to bogart Welles's film and not bring it to the masses is a damn shame.  I'm aware this film might not exist without Netflix (in a way that Roma, Buster Scruggs, and The Irishman wouldn't...all of those movies would have easily gotten theatrical releases based on the celebrity of their directors), but if Netflix wants to be someone who respects cinema, they need to release this film on Blu-Ray so it can be owned and preserved by cinephiles for years to come.

(Editor's Note: A previous version of this review stated that Other Side of the Wind was was not eligible for the Oscars, but it turns out I was wrong here-Other Side of the Wind was eligible for most categories save for Best Score, but they didn't get nominated in any category, which is a damned shame-thank you to Wellesnet on Twitter for clarifying this for me)

John's Top 10 of 2018

As we did the "Worst of the Year," we must also do the "Best of the Year" in honor of this being a week after the Oscars.  I'm not going to rank these on the blog at this point (we'll do that in a few weeks when I announce what I'd do in all Oscar categories closer to the ceremony), but for now, enjoy my alphabetical Top 10 film of the Year list:

Bad Times at the El Royale (dir. Drew Goddard)

The year's most oddly-dismissed picture.  Drew Goddard crafts a compelling mystery that feels like Tarantino meets Clue on a rainy summer night.  Cynthia Erivo's screen debut shows a true talent is about to be unleashed on the cinema.

The Cakemaker (dir. Ophir Raul Graizer)

A strange, introverted look at grief and loneliness.  Watch the way that Sarah Adler's Anat emerges from her cocoon while Tim Kalkhof's Thomas retreats further into his own-it's a master class in rich character work.

Cold War (dir. Pawel Palikowski)

Bleak, sharp, cool, romantic…it’s hard to boil the 85 minutes of Cold War into one adjective.  The best way to describe it is cinema at its best, a swift look at two people, occasionally in love but forever entwined by tragedy & fate, with an ending you’ll think about long after the final ballad is sung.

The Favourite (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

Three actresses at the tops of their games in an acid-tongued look at the waning days of the House of Stuart.  Eve Harrington herself would cower when faced with Sarah & Abigail as competitors.

First Man (dir. Damien Chazelle)

Ryan Gosling hasn’t been this good in years, playing the Boy Scout-perfect Neil Armstrong as an iconic, flesh-and-blood human being.  The scenes on the moon are arguably the most jaw-dropping I saw all year-I think I stopped breathing at points from all of the wonder...who would have thought it would take biopic for me to warm to Chazelle?

Hereditary (dir. Ari Aster)

I literally looked over to my date and said “what the hell did you bring me to?” forty minutes into the movie.  What he’d brought me to was the most messed-up, scariest horror movie I’ve seen in years, with a monstrous acting duet between Toni Collette & Alex Wolff that should have scored every acting award known to man. 

Lean on Pete (dir. Andrew Haigh)

Andrew Haigh continues his unblemished cinematic streak with this look at one young man’s quest to find a place in this world, aided by a stoic horse that shifts as a metaphor for his hopes to his lost childhood as the movie progresses.  Charlie Plummer gives the year’s most heartbreaking performance as a boy whom society has forgotten.

Love, Simon (dir. Greg Berlanti)

Yes, it’s fluffy, but Love, Simon is also a warm, felt movie that never gets weighed down by the historic nature of its existence-I remember feeling so full thinking of what this would have meant to young, gay, cinema-loving me if I'd seen it when I was 14.  Special kudos to Jennifer Garner & Josh Duhamel for finding the heart behind their Eddie Bauer-perfect parents.

The Other Side of the Wind (dir. Orson Welles)

Orson Welles’ final film made us wait nearly fifty years to see if the great one could still craft masterpieces that deserved to be placed alongside Citizen Kane and Touch of Evil-thankfully, he could.  John Huston is marvelous as a director burdened with expectation, trying to find an ending when everyone around him no longer cares.

Roma (dir. Alfonso Cuaron)

A monument to the art of cinema.  Cuaron’s always good, but it says something that he’s never felt so revelatory on the screen, as if we’re looking less at an actual movie and more into the hidden world of his childhood.  The sound work is unnaturally rich-make sure to see it straight through-no breaks, no distractions-to get the full effect.

Jane Eyre (1944)

Film: Jane Eyre (1944)
Stars: Orson Welles, Joan Fontaine, Margaret O'Brien, Peggy Ann Garner, John Sutton, Sara Allgood, Agnes Moorehead, Elizabeth Taylor
Director: Robert Stevenson
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Oscar-winning actress Joan Fontaine, had she made it just a few years longer would have turned 100 years old last week, and while I was too busy prepping for NaNoWriMo to do something on the actual day, I felt it was worth acknowledging her as an actress after such a centennial.  Fontaine, in my eyes, has always paled in respect to her sister, Joan being an actress who had a brief moment of major stardom (where she scooped up a trio of Oscar nominations), and then spent the rest of her career being perhaps more infamous for a feud than anything else.  But Fontaine was a fine actress, and as it was about to leave FilmStruck I decided to catch Jane Eyre for the first time, watching Fontaine's "plain" young governess fall madly in love with the complicated, tortured Edward Rochester, played most appropriately by Orson Welles.

(Spoilers Ahead...though seriously, you haven't read Jane Eyre?) It should be stated right up-front that Jane Eyre is one of my all-time favorite books.  I've read it a couple of times, and it's nearly impossible to put down.  Charlotte Bronte paints a tough, feminist icon in the form of her titular heroine, and it's really one of those stories like Great Expectations or Pride & Prejudice that is almost impossible to screw up, it's so compelling.  Still, though, I'd seen other versions that were remarkable (particularly the 2011 version with Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender), and was curious to see what one with such an expansive cast would achieve.

All-in-all, I didn't leave disappointed.  I won't recap the plot that much (it's such a famous story), but the movie takes great care in the earlier chapters to portray Jane as a young woman in a way that I don't think I've seen before onscreen.  Peggy Ann Garner, as the young Jane, is marvelous in this role.  She would the following year win an Honorary Oscar for her brilliant work in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, but here she's nearly its equal, headstrong and defiant while very real.  It's rare to see someone steal scenes from Elizabeth Taylor (who plays her doomed childhood friend Helen), but Garner is truly excellent-it's a pity she never got to contend for a competitive Oscar in her career, as she more than earned a nomination.

The romance between Fontaine and Welles is very good.  I'd say that Fontaine sometimes under-emotes, but there's something lost in her eyes and her mannerisms, the way that she clings to relevance through Adele (O'Brien), and how she manages to be both defiant and wear the weight of the world on her shoulders that I found quite captivating.  Welles as Rochester may be typecasting, but he's such a good actor it's hard to argue with such a decision.  His Rochester has occasional charm, but is brooded in his undying passion for Jane and the secrets he quite literally keeps in the attic.  The movie doesn't shy away from the novel's gothic exterior, and while so much of its genius comes from Charlotte Bronte (the script adds little that isn't there on the page), that's a minor quibble for such a grand translation.  Honestly-this may well be my favorite interpretation of the book, and considering how often this has made it to the big-screen, that's saying something.

Those were my thoughts-how about yours?  What version of Bronte's masterpiece do you think is the best big-screen adaptation?  What do you think is the best work of Joan Fontaine's career?  And why don't more film historians talk about the excellent childhood performances of Peggy Ann Garner?  Share your thoughts in the comments!

My Dozen Favorite Directors

Eons ago, I started two-thirds of a project about my dozen personal favorite actors and actresses.  I had intended at the time to do my dozen favorite directors, but life got in the way, as did my ability to rank directors.  The reality is that movie stars, and actors, quite frequently you see the best and leave the rest behind, but with directors it's different.  After all, with fine "auteur"-style directors, you get some of their most interesting pictures on the lists of films that aren't as prevalent.  Additionally, I find that comparing director to director in terms of overall careers is extremely challenging.  Do I pick a director like Federico Fellini with a distinctive style, or do I go with someone consistent with less of a visible imprint like William Wyler?  Elia Kazan made two of my all-time favorite movies, but the rest of his filmography I'm just ambivalent toward.  John Huston is one of the most consistent major directors of his era, but I never really loved one of his pictures even if I admire all of them.

So this is even more subjective to my whims today than the other two lists were, and on another day Fellini, Wyler, Kazan, Huston, along with Kurosawa, Cameron, Truffaut, Reed, Preminger, Frankenheimer, Miyazaki, Lee (Spike or Ang), Bertolucci, Polanski, Almodovar, Coppola (Francis or Sofia), Campion, Lumet, Haneke, Capra, Stevens, or Woody Allen may well have made the list (in fact, listed all together I feel like a crazy person discarding them all, particularly in Woody's case as he was 13th).  But anyway, here are my dozen favorites, in alphabetical order, as of this exact moment in time..  Fight away in the comments.

Ingmar Bergman (1918-2007)

Oscar History: 9 nominations/0 wins (Bergman received three citations as a director (the rest as a writer), and won the Thalberg, but somehow never won a competitive Oscar.
First Impressions: I will always remember the first time I saw an Ingmar Bergman movie.  I was 20, and out with a guy named Eric whom I had a crush on (he was a senior, I was a sophomore-it was very chic), and he wanted to go out for ice cream and an old movie house which was playing Wild Strawberries.  I spent the entire night wondering if it was a date (I kind of suspect in hindsight that it was, in which case it was my first with a guy), but was mesmerized by both what was happening off-screen as well as on, as I'd never seen a movie quite like this.
Why the Love: I'm not ranking these directors, but if I'm being honest-Bergman's my favorite, with potentially Kubrick sneaking around the corner.  His movies are wonderfully-specific poems, beautiful odes to cinema and the human experience, in particular our complicated relationship with death as a human species.  Gorgeously shot and felt, I treasure every new Bergman experience I encounter, as it's like experiencing the ocean for the first time.
My Favorite Film: I think I'd have to go with The Seventh Seal.  I genuinely love every Bergman movie I've seen so far, so going with the cliche may seem a bit of a cop-out, but it's so raw and fascinating-the visuals, particularly the knight playing chess with death-it's haunting and still effortlessly fresh.
Missing Piece: There's a few (Bergman made a lot of pictures), though perhaps most egregious is Persona, which I hear is spectacular but somehow has never crossed my path.

Alfonso Cuaron (1961-Present)

Oscar History: 6 nods/2 wins (his two trophies were both for Gravity, for editing and directing, which is to date the only time he's been cited as a director)
First Impressions: This is actually pretty unusual, but the first time I saw one of Cuaron's films, I actually didn't care for it very much.  I was thrilled by the prospect of finally seeing Y Tu Mama Tambien, as it had been celebrated by a film critic I enjoy, and it looked "naughty" and at that point in my life I hadn't really experienced a lot of saucy pictures.  But I wasn't blown away by it, even if I feel like I should revisit as I wonder if I'd like it better on revisit.  It was, indeed, "naughty" (that penultimate scene between Bernal and Luna being a sensational payoff to what the film was building toward), but I was meh until then.  Thankfully, I didn't give up on Cuaron at that point, though, as he eventually paid off in a major way.
Why the Love: Cuaron is a strange beast as he's one of the least prolific directors on this list, and as a result it feels weird to put him here when, say, Wyler or Allen have a much more quantitative filmography (unless you die tragically young, this isn't the case with actors, which is perhaps why it's easier to compare them side-by-side as they work so consistently).  Still, Cuaron can find so much magic in how a film is built (it helps that he's an editor), and the end product is so rich and rewarding, it's impossible not to list him as one of my favorites, even if I desperately wish he'd work more.
My Favorite Film: This is easy-Children of Men is a triumph, one of the finest films ever made, and a wonderful essay on the greatest headlines of the human experience: birth, life, love, and death.  That it wasn't heralded as the monument that it was is still baffling to me in an otherwise lackluster cinematic year.
Missing Piece: A Little Princess, which I can't actually remember if I saw (or if I saw the PBS miniseries, which part of me believes is accurate).  Either way, this is the only major Cuaron film I've never caught.

John Ford (1894-1973)

Oscar History: 6 nods/4 wins (Ford picked up a quartet of Best Director trophies for The Informer, The Grapes of Wrath, How Green Was My Valley, and The Quiet Man)
First Impressions: Ford has made so many movies I honestly have no idea which one I saw first.  I'm going to guess it was The Grapes of Wrath, a picture I've seen several times and which never loses its potency.  I distinctly remember being in awe of the way that Henry Fonda was filmed (so beautiful in the moonlight), and that marvelous set of final monologues from Fonda (who deserved the Oscar-let's be real here) and Jane Darwell at the end of the picture.  It isn't my type of film, exactly, but every time I see it I'm reminded that genre is only a framing device, and good movies can be made in any such circumstance.
Why the Love: When Ingmar Bergman AND Orson Welles are calling you the greatest director of all-time, you're doing something right.  Ford's films, easily dismissable as westerns or as hokum, have a lot more going on below the surface than meets the eye.  Whether it's the technical virtuosity of The Quiet Man or the lonely indictment on wealth in The Informer or the nasty pessimism of The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Ford's take on the movies are passionate to his vision, artistic, and eminently watchable.  No director before or since has put so much richness and thought into an almost completely commercial set of movies.
My Favorite Film: Oh, The Searchers, surely.  While Ford has made many superb pictures, this stands apart as the greatest.  John Wayne has never been better, and Ford frames this tale of hatred, bigotry, and revenge in such a way that you feel Ethan Edwards for weeks afterwards, realizing truths that both actor and director packed into the film.  That neither was even nominated for an Oscar for such a film is insanity.
Missing Piece: I mean, I've actually seen pretty much every major picture in Ford's career, but he made so many movies there's obviously a number of missing pieces.  Perhaps The Long Voyage Home, the rare Ford Best Picture nominee that I've never caught.

Alfred Hitchcock (1899-1980)

Oscar History: 5 nominations/0 wins (though he won the Thalberg, Hitch never actually got a competitive trophy despite five nominations for Best Director)
First Impressions: I'm sure my first impression of Hitchcock was Psycho, initially seeing the famous shower scene repeatedly in clip shows, and then actually catching the movie, and realizing A) that shower scene is ridiculously effective in the movie, and B) it's got a lot of other nearly as perfect scenes.
Why the Love: It's impossible to like the cinema and not like Hitchcock, in my opinion.  The way he moves the camera, the way he indulges the senses (the chills, the women, the music-it's all sensationalistic in the best way).  When he's at his best you forget you're watching a movie and just sort of are transported into what is happening onscreen.  Few directors consistently made such superb pictures and adapted to the times so well as Hitch did-his films of the 1954-1963 era are arguably the most popular, but he made interesting work his entire career.
My Favorite Film: I'd have to say Vertigo, which feels like a cliche (because everyone says Vertigo in a way of avoiding the cliche of everyone saying Psycho), but it's incredible.  Stewart has never been better, truly, and the movie's descent of one man is spellbinding.
Missing Piece: My brother has assured me on multiple occasions that I'm a fool for not having seen Strangers on a Train yet, and I know it's coming up on my Netflix queue so perhaps quite soon I'll correct this?

Richard Linklater (1960-Present)

Oscar History: 5 nominations/0 wins (Linklater has yet to take a trophy, and actually has only one Best Director nomination, for Boyhood)
First Impressions: I didn't grow up quoting Dazed and Confused, and quite frankly my impression of Richard Linklater was hardly impressive until I actually caught one of his movies, Before Sunrise, and was in awe of how masterfully it was filmed and how beautiful the picture before me was.
Why the Love: Linklater's an odd director to adore, and the newest addition to this list in terms of my viewing him, but I always seem to find something new to admire about his work, and how naturalistic the writing is.  Though he lacks the stylistic visual cues that made Bergman famous, the way he focuses the camera on a group of actors and waits until something magical happens is remarkable.  I am still getting to know his filmography, but have genuinely loved every single picture of his that I've seen.
My Favorite Film: Before Sunset will probably remain here forever, though I mean it when I said I loved every single picture so far (including the wildly underrated Everybody Wants Some!!!).  But Before Sunset is that rare romantic drama film with a ticking clock where you can't tell if the chief protagonists will realize that they're soulmates in time.  It spoke to me in a big way when I first saw it, and I'm just in awe even still.
Missing Piece: I still haven't actually watched Dazed and Confused, which feels bizarre as it's such a big reason why people recognize his pictures.  It's on the Netflix list, however, so someday it'll happen.

Stanley Kubrick (1928-1999)

Oscar History: 13 nominations/1 win (two shocking things here: one, I never knew that Kubrick won an Oscar for Visual Effects, assuming that he was Oscar-less, but instead that was just for Best Director where he went 0/4, and secondly-the 2001 VFX Oscar wasn't shared with Douglas Trumbull-how'd that happen?)
First Impressions: I was debating quite loudly with myself, and then realized that it was The Shining (if not, I'd have to share a very odd experience about being in the closet and watching Eyes Wide Shut with a very straight man in tenth grade).  I remember being scared and fascinated, and particularly wondering what the hell "here's Johnny" was from (Carson was before my time).
Why the Love: Kubrick films are at once decidedly and completely Kubrick films, and then somehow very different stylistically.  It's hard to imagine that the guy who made Dr. Strangelove also made 2001 and Barry Lyndon and A Clockwork Orange.  His movies are always thought-provoking and interesting-it's impossible not to have a visceral reaction to his pictures, and for me, that usually was a positive thing as his reputation grows personally with me over time (case in point-I hated 2001 the first time I saw it...and now it's on my 100 Favorite Movies list).
My Favorite Film: 2001 may someday get there, but right now it's still A Clockwork Orange, a difficult sit but a shockingly effective, violent picture that feels so bundled with raw energy I spent the entire first time through it sitting on the literal edge of my seat.
Missing Piece: Weirdly I've never seen Full Metal Jacket.  I say weirdly because my first college roommate actually liked this movie, and it was perhaps the only one of his films that I legitimately wanted to see, and somehow I never did.

David Lean (1908-1991)

Oscar History: 11 nominations/2 wins (Lean weirdly enough won both of his trophies for directing, which hasn't been the case so far here for writer-directors, taking trophies for Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia)
First Impressions: Hmm, probably The Bridge on the River Kwai.  My grandfather after his stroke would watch this movie incessantly, so I got to see bits of it all the time.  I remember liking parts, but not really getting it properly until I was much older and could appreciate the "madness" angle of Alec Guiness' haunting work.
Why the Love: Lean's films are that rare combination of big, huge, gargantuan cinema combined with delicate treasures of performances.  It's hard to fathom, after all, the subtle shifts in Peter O'Toole's performance as he drifts into madness amidst the backdrop of the gargantuan Lawrence of Arabia or how beautiful Julie Chrisie's romance is amidst the ice castle wonder of Doctor Zhivago.  I frequently say my favorite films are well-done romantic epics.  When I say that, I'm thinking of Lean.
My Favorite Film: Part of me wants to say Brief Encounter, one of those underrated classics that just gets better with each passing year, but I spent a year of my life in college devoted to Lawrence of Arabia, and so I have to pick that, one of my all-time favorite pictures.
Missing Piece: Here's where we actually get pretty odd, as I've seen virtually everything David Lean has ever directed (even obscure titles like Hobson's Choice or This Happy Breed), so I'll go with In Which We Serve which I hear is wonderful but haven't caught yet.

Terrence Malick (1943-Present)

Oscar History: 3 nominations/0 wins (two nods for directing The Thin Red Line and The Tree of Life)
First Impressions: I will never forget my first experience with a Terrence Malick movie.  It was The New World, and to be honest I'd never seen one of his films, or wasn't even familiar with them, and my parents wanted to go because it was about John Smith and Pocahontas, and that sounded fun.  About a third into the film, and we had seen this intense, lush green cinematography but nothing much more than that, my mom reached over and said, "I don't know what's going on," and I said "it's supposed to be artsy," to which she replied "okay" and went back to playing with her Indiglo watch for the remainder of the picture.  Suffice it to say, I haven't taken them to a Malick film since.
Why the Love: Because Malick tackles his films in a way no one else does.  I get sick of all films looking exactly the same or needing the same structure.  When he's at his best, Malick can create something haunting and riveting on the screen.  Yes, he can be indulgent (the sparseness of language in something like Knight of Cups occasionally borders on the frustrating), but when he's on there's literally no director I'd rather sit in a theater and let his movie wash over me in the same way.
My Favorite Film: His Tree of Life is one of my all-time favorite pictures, period, so most assuredly it would be that.  I never don't like a Malick film though, even when other people hate them.
Missing Piece: Somehow I've never caught Badlands through the years, which is so strange considering both my penchant for Malick and what a towering achievement this film is considered (one of those rare classics I've never caught).

Martin Scorsese (1942-Present)

Oscar History: 12 nominations/1 win (I remember standing and applauding when Marty finally took that Oscar for The Departed)
First Impressions: My first impression of Marty was probably GoodFellas.  As he didn't really make children's films prior to 2011 (Hugo being an obvious entry point for younger cinephiles now), it was an edited down version of the film, but I was enthralled initially, particularly by the famous walk through the club and how cute a young Ray Liotta was.
Why the Love: Scorsese's films are an ode to movie-making, and how much he loves to self-reflect and share his love of the cinema onscreen.  You see in his movies a deliberation, someone working through his world artistically and narratively, trying to make sense of his life and religion itself.  Scorsese is a deeply personal filmmakers, but makes universal pictures that anyone can relate toward-that's a pretty impressive achievement.  Plus, who doesn't like Marty?  He's one of my absolute favorite celebrities to hear interviewed.
My Favorite Film: The strange thing about Scorsese is that he's the only director on this list to not have a film on my 100 Favorite Movies list, so I actually had to think on this one.  I suspect it would be Taxi Driver, though.  The film has one of the best performances de Niro ever turned in, and it's shockingly vibrant forty years after it was made.
Missing Piece: This won't be a missing piece for long as literally the disc is on my counter right now, but Mean Streets has somehow eluded me all of these years.  Can't wait to catch what some consider to be his finest work (it might even be tonight).

Steven Spielberg (1946-Present)

Oscar History: 16 nominations/3 wins (two of those trophies for directing Schindler's List and Saving Private Ryan...he also won the Thalberg quite early in his career)
First Impressions: Unlike most of these directors, Spielberg makes films that are appropriate for children (and he made them when I was, indeed, a kid).  That being said, I wonder if my first introduction to Spielberg might have been Hook, not one of his finer moments, even though I was enchanted at the time.  I tend to love the Neverland stories, though (PJ Hogan's Peter Pan being the best by a country mile), and particularly Spielberg's ability to world-build (which even in his least pictures, he can succeed in accomplishing).
Why the Love: To grow up when I did and to love cinema is to love Spielberg.  No, he's not always as artistic or challenging as some of the other men on this list, but he is surely the most cinematic, and when he's on is creating an adventure that transcends the movies.  Jaws, ET, Schindler, AI, Minority Report, Raiders of the Lost Ark-the man has more genuine classics than pretty much any other director.
My Favorite Film: While those are all classics, the one that makes me tremble with joy the most is still Jurassic Park.  It's not his most ambitious work (AI) or his tightest (Jaws) or his most moving (Schindler) or even the most inventive world-building (Minority Report), but it is the one where I genuinely have the most fun.  And sometimes the movies should be about the most fun (plus, let's be honest-it's peak popcorn fare).
Missing Piece: Like David Lean, I've seen pretty much everything (I've caught 77% of Spielberg's filmography, missing only 7 pictures).  Of the seven, I'd say that Amistad is the one that's the highest on my "to view"list.

Orson Welles (1915-1985)

Oscar History: 3 nominations/1 win (Welles' only competitive win was for writing Citizen Kane, the film that won him his only directing nomination, though he did win an Honorary Oscar quite late in his career)
First Impressions: It's a weird film to see first of a director (usually there's a more juvenile entry point), but Citizen Kane has to have been my first Welles film, and the first one I think I even saw him act in (give or take an appearance with the Muppets).  I left doubly-impressed (the ending hadn't been ruined for me at that point), and clamoring for more.
Why the Love: It's worth noting that Welles appeared not only on this list, but my actors list as well, the only person to do so despite so many men who have tried their hand successfully at both.  Perhaps this is because Welles the director was so driven and matter-of-fact in the way that he brought his universe to life.  His films are rife with wonderful acting, dialogue, and terrific lighting-Welles never stopped being that young man who took on William Randolph Hearst, at least as a director, continually challenging himself while occasionally selling out his name as a performer.  As a result, we got some of the most original movies of the era from Hollywood's bad boy.
My Favorite Film: Again, cliches be damned-Citizen Kane is, truly, one of the best movies ever made and in an era of Trump, perhaps more appropriate than ever (oh how the mighty fall in trying to recapture something that will never be).  Still, Touch of Evil comes close behind, and is in its own way a masterwork.
Missing Piece: The Other Side of Wind?  Hee hee, but seriously, I'd probably say that if it counts...otherwise maybe Chimes at Midnight?

Billy Wilder (1906-2002)

Oscar History: 21 nominations/6 wins (Wilder pulled off two directing trophies for The Lost Weekend and The Apartment...like several of these men he'd also go on to win the Thalberg Award)
First Impressions: I'm not sure, once again, but my gut says it was The Lost Weekend, which I saw at a relatively young age, and quite frankly, wasn't impressed by it.  Considering the lavish praise for the film at the time (it's a Best Picture winner, after all), I will surely revisit at some point in the future but it's not what you'd consider "in my wheelhouse."
Why the Love: First off, who doesn't love at least one Billy Wilder movie?  I don't think you can call yourself a fan of the cinema and not profess to being head-over-heels for one of his pictures.  They're so damn good.  Wilder isn't really an auteur in the vein of many of these men (I like those guys with a consistent vision), but he consistently wrote and directed some of the cinema's best movies.  That in-itself should warrant a spot on this list, even if he's a less traditional way to end this than, say, Woody Allen or Akira Kurosawa.
My Favorite Film: I love so many of his pictures, but it'd likely be Sunset Boulevard.  Buoyed by a greatest-of-all-time level performance from Gloria Swanson, the movie is a shattering look at how Hollywood worships and then destroys its stars, and the way that we as a larger society treat our elders.  It's a nasty bit of work with some truly biting wordplay.  Absolutely sensational.
Missing Piece: Perhaps The Seven Year Itch?  I've seen all of the A-Pictures in Wilder's filmography, but Monroe at her height would be something I'd like to see, particularly considering he got her best performance out of her in Some Like It Hot.

And there you have it-the long-awaited Directors list!  Weigh in below on whether you agree or disagree, who should be added/deleted, and your favorite films/missing pieces from these twelve men!

My Dozen Favorite Actors

Well I didn't quite get this out when I wanted to, but we're back with round two of my three-part look at my favorite actresses, actors, and directors.  For those unfamiliar with round one, click here, and for those that have been eagerly awaiting, let's take a look at my all-time favorite actors (listed alphabetically, as actually ranking them sounded too difficult-to-choose).

Honorable Mention: Like the actresses, there were countless names that showed up here for me.  We have a few actors who just barely missed the cut (Michael Caine, Al Pacino, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Dustin Hoffman all spring to mind, but their careers were too inconsistent for my tastes).  We have a few actors who don't work enough or don't quite have the body-of-work I was looking for, but the talent is very, very real (James Dean, Daniel Day-Lewis).  There's a few actors whom I've always thoroughly enjoyed, but for whatever reason I've still got too much missing in their filmographies to really make the jump here for them (Alec Guinness, William Powell, Robert Mitchum, and Fredric March all come to mind).  And finally, there's some younger actors I adore, but I'm not quite there yet to call them one of my twelve favorites, even though they're appointment viewing at this point for me (Jake Gyllenhaal, Michael Fassbender, Michael B. Jordan, Oscar Isaac, and Channing Tatum are all actors I give myself a pass to see in pretty much any film).  That being said, here's our Top 12.

Warren Beatty (1937-Present)

Oscar History: As an actor, which is the focus here (there are several men who moonlit as directors throughout their careers on the list, but you don't get extra credit for that in the countdown), Beatty is 0/4 in terms of Oscar.  However, he is also a 14-time nominee, getting cited for writing, producing, and directing in addition to his four Best Actor nods, and won Best Director for Reds and then the Thalberg in 1999.
First Impressions: Beatty, like several actors on this list, has never really made a kids movie.  My first interaction with Beatty was strangely at a young age, though, as my brother and I would regularly play with a Dick Tracy colorform toy at my grandmother's religiously, though our focus was less on Beatty's oversized image (it always bothered me that he wasn't proportional to all of the other Dick Tracy characters), but instead on Madonna and her glamorous silhouette, which as a young gay child was far more fascinating to me.
Why the Love: Beatty is rarely onscreen (in some ways he's similar to Day-Lewis up-top), but when he is, he's always the beautiful, driven dreamer.  He somehow combines the beauty of a young Mel Gibson with the actorly determination of Montgomery Clift, and he isn't shy about making his characters flawed, potentially even unlikable, and making you uncomfortable for wanting to still pursue them (think of Splendor in the Grass or Reds).  All-in-all, he's one of those screen presences that even when he's leering into bombast, he's insanely watchable.
My Favorite Performance: Surely this is Bonnie and Clyde.  Beatty has made a lot of movies that I enjoy, but he's never been sexier, more vulnerable, or stronger than as Clyde Barrow.
Missing Piece: I would have to say Bugsy as it's perhaps the last truly significant film of his career, and a film that many people expected to win the Academy Award for Best Picture when Silence of the Lambs pulled off the upset.

Marlon Brando (1924-2004)

Oscar History: 8 nominations/2 wins (On the Waterfront and The Godfather)
First Impressions: I want to say that my first impression of Brando was either seeing him, randomly, in kitsch wall art while shopping at our local K-Mart, or perhaps it was (in fact) the first movie I really remember catching him in, which was A Streetcar Named Desire, a movie that profoundly changed my life.
Why the Love: Where to begin?  Brando was a complicated genius, one who spent long periods of his career making, arguably, crap (name a decent Brando film from the 60's or 80's-I dare you), but when he was on there really is no one in the world of the movies that can compare.  Brando, at his best, could portray a sensitive vulnerability unmatched by other actors, a combination of raw, animal lust and a brooding desire (word choice intentional).
My Favorite Performance: Streetcar contains my two favorite onscreen performances, period, and I doubt that that ever changes.  It's weird when you have Terry Malloy, Don Corleone, and Paul from Last Tango in Paris on-deck to relegate them to lower tiers on the podium since they're all landmark pieces of acting, but there's just no topping Stanley Kowalski.
Missing Piece: Like a few actors on this list, I've actually seen most of Brando's major performances, as well as a few that he'd probably wish I'd forgotten.  I'm going to go with Viva Zapata, one of only two Oscar-nominated turns of his that I'm still missing (the other being A Dry White Season), as it clearly had some ardent fans.

Robert de Niro (1943-Present)

Oscar History: 7 nominations/2 wins (The Godfather, Part II and Raging Bull)
First Impressions: My first impression of Robert de Niro was actually a film that I didn't really like, but my parents did (which was rare when I was a kid) called Awakenings, a film that I truly should watch again as I have little memory of it other than I didn't care for the picture.
Why the Love: You'll notice that Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino didn't make this list, but de Niro, the third leg in the "once brilliant, now largely coasting on our considerable movie memories" portion of their trio, does.  That's because de Niro is, when he's at his peak, the best of the three.  A marvelous actor, his streak in the 1970's and 80's is unmatched by most actors-it's hard to imagine a rawer bunlde of energy.  He's earned comparisons to Brando, but while Brando played off of his sexuality and fluidity, de Niro is nerves and live wires, electric in the way that he commands the screen at his peak.
My Favorite Performance: Taxi Driver.  I could easily say Godfather Part II and Raging Bull (you're going to have a hard-time convincing me he doesn't deserve three Oscars), but Taxi Driver is just an extraordinary piece of work, and quintessential de Niro.
Missing Piece: I have only missed one of de Niro's Oscar-nominated turns, so I will say Cape Fear, a film that I'm actually curious about as it was on the precipice of de Niro going into his "cash in on the legend" phase.

Michael Douglas (1944-Present)


Oscar History: 1 nomination/1 win (for acting, Douglas has only won for Wall Street, though as a producer he also won a second trophy for One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest)
First Impressions: This one is easy in terms of remembering because it was a quintessential part of my childhood.  So many of our relationships with movies are forged by our parents, and for me I saw Romancing the Stone and Jewel of the Nile countless times growing up because they were two of my mom's favorite movies.  Hence a very early appreciation of Michael Douglas.
Why the Love: Douglas is a great everyman, and may have been the most vibrant and relevant actor of the 1990's, despite his strange lack of an Oscar nomination during that period.  Like de Niro, he kind of phones it in lately but when he was on-top of himself, he was even better than his famed father: a movie star panache combined with a wonderful, actorly approach.  Douglas will always be one of those rare male actors I loved unabashedly, even when he felt down for the count.
My Favorite Performance: Surely The American President-his Andrew Shephard isn't Jed Bartlett (few creations are, and President Bartlett had multiple seasons to grow upon me), but is more appropriate for a film setting and manages to breed that rarest of cinematic products-an intelligent, competent romance between two equally-savvy human beings without resorting to motifs, but instead keeping them smart.  It's a triumph, and shows off Douglas' rather sharp comedic skills, which are often under-utilized.
Missing Piece: I want to say Basic Instinct-there's a few holes I have in Douglas filmography (Falling Down and The China Syndrome also feel like they're toward the top of this list), but Stone at her peak with Douglas at his seems like something I'd have trouble turning down-it's coming up in the Netflix queue.

Ralph Fiennes (1962-Present)

Oscar History: 2 nominations (sadly no wins, but Schindler's List and The English Patient both are strong crutches to lean upon)
First Impressions: I think it'd have to be The English Patient in terms of actual cinema-Fiennes didn't start doing fare for younger audiences until later in his career, at which point I was an adult proper and saw all of his films anyway.  I do distinctly remember his nomination in 1996 and getting into much ballyhooed conversations with people who didn't remotely care about such things over whether it was pronounced Rafe or Ralph.
Why the Love: Ralph Fiennes is the most electric actor currently working in the cinema this millennium, save for perhaps a Shawnee, Oklahoma native we'll get into in a minute.  Fiennes is always on-point and interesting, even when he's got a film that appears to require him to be just stately and British (Harry Potter, James Bond), and when he's doing his dramatics, he's dynamite.  Think of how M. Gustave, Amon Goeth, and the murderous, profane Harry are all played by the same man-he exhibits a range that rivals Streep in the 1980's.  That Oscar consistently has looked over such wonders is a bit of a stain on their reputation, but at least we have those movies to revisit until the end of time.
My Favorite Performance: Fiennes is one of those actors I love pretty much every time he leaves his trailer, so I feel a little cheap saying that forever and always Count Laszlo de Almasy will remain, eternally, at the top of my list of favorite performances from the Brit.  And yet, his maddening, marvelous look at love and the obsession of attaining it even despite the dangers that it proposes is something I cannot deny.
Missing Piece: I've actually seen most of Fiennes' work-he's one of those actors I've given a free pass to for over a decade and rarely miss anything that he puts out.  I'd probably go with something very early in his career then, like Wuthering Heights or Quiz Show, as ones that I'm missing but I've seen over 50% of his filmography, which is something that as a general rule is hard to achieve without trying.

Cary Grant (1904-1986)


Oscar History: 2 nominations (Grant never won a competitive Oscar, but he did pick up an Honorary one in 1969)
First Impressions: Weirdly my first interaction with Grant was with one of his last films, in Father Goose.  I was visiting my aunt with my family, and my mom/aunt both were wildly excited while flipping the channels when they saw the film was just starting on a cable channel.  I remember being underwhelmed, mostly because I was very young and didn't actually get what was going on onscreen.
Why the Love: Grant eventually became a taste I couldn't get enough of, though, after that initial screening.  He may not have been a great actor in the sense of Brando or de Niro, constantly transforming himself onscreen but he was a man who knew exactly how to pick elegant and charming scripts over-and-over again, giving us decades of marvelously charming roles.  It's hard to deny that Grant, whenever he's onscreen, was a bubbly delight to view, and he seemingly did the impossible, finding ways to have chemistry with performers as diverse as Mae West, Kate Hepburn, Grace Kelly, and Sophia Loren.
My Favorite Performance: Like I said, Grant's best performance seemed to be playing the same role over-and-over again, the public's persona of himself.  However, if I had to nail down one specific role it'd be The Philadelphia Story, which is my favorite of his movies and where he even outdoes eventual Oscar winner Jimmy Stewart, the rare time where the Best Actor winner wasn't better than one of his male coleads in the same picture (perhaps the only time?  Share another if you can think of it in the comments)
Missing Piece: I've seen almost every Cary Grant film of note, quite frankly, save one-somehow, in all of my years of watching movies, I've never watched His Girl Friday despite every intention of doing so.  I feel guiltier about this one than any other missing piece on this list-perhaps I'll make a point of it this week?

Heath Ledger (1979-2008)


Oscar History: 2 nominations/1 win (The Dark Knight)
First Impressions: My first impression of Heath Ledger was that he was the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes upon in The Patriot.  He was gloriously handsome in the film, making it one of the first times where I actually noticed someone who wasn't the star of a picture and pinpointed him to be a major player-I was right, though considering 10 Things I Hate About You had come out the year before I was beaten by a number of other people in this regard.
Why the Love: Ledger is the person on this list with the scantest filmography, but honestly-he was fast-emerging prior to his death as the quintessential actor of his generation, in my opinion, and even the body-of-work that he left behind was challenging and fascinating.  He was one of the first actors that I became obsessed with while they were working-I would go to whatever film that he made, even as young as a teenager, just because it featured Ledger.  To this day, he is one of only two cinematic images that adorn the walls of my apartment (the plane sequence in Casablanca being the other), showing how much he still means to me, nearly ten years after his death.
My Favorite Performance: Ennis is too good to ignore, a challenging look at the ways that our lusts and our loves haunt us, even as we grow old or must deny that they happened just to move on with our lives.  I still can't believe that a movie so exquisite exists
Missing Piece: Like Fiennes, I've seen well over 50% of Ledger's filmography and most of the biggest hits.  I suspect, though, because I have such a continuing fascination with him that I'll eventually see them all.  The one I'm looking most forward to is Casanova, as it was always fun to see Ledger let out his playful side.

Paul Newman (1928-2008)


Oscar History: 10 nominations/1 win (for The Color of Money, though it's worth noting that Newman is that extremely rare actor who has not one but two Honorary statues, for lifetime achievement in 1985 and the Hersholt in 1993).
First Impressions: It was The Sting, a film that I have actually not seen since I first saw it some twenty years ago (I'll surely have to revisit it for the OVP).  I remember loving it, particularly the ending, but considering my taste in films as I've gotten older I'm not confident that that would hold.
Why the Love: Paul Newman is perhaps what Heath Ledger could have aspired to become-a proper thespian in the body of a matinee idol, Newman is the quintessential guy who could act, but you couldn't get past that mug of his.  That's a shame if you think of him as just a pretty face, because Newman consistently stole most of his films, almost all of which he played the lead, and frequently brought a movie star's panache along with some genuine depth-of-character.  He's intensely watchable, outside and in.
My Favorite Performance: This is actually tricky for me, because while I love most of his work, I've never seen the performance that stands out as "this is my Paul Newman" in the way that Brando or Fiennes has for me.  I think I'm going to go with Hud, if only because that's a wonderful movie, one that combines his flare for danger with his intense sexuality, and he has a marvelous screen partner in Patricia Neal to accentuate what he's doing in the film.  I could be convinced it should be others though.
Missing Piece: I have never seen The Hustler.  I'm aware of the shame this brings to my name.

Jack Nicholson (1937-Present)

Oscar History: 12 nominations/3 wins (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Terms of Endearment, As Good As It Gets)
First Impressions: "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"  For those who get that reference, you'll know why Jack Nicholson is a lifelong affair, something challenging that also is constantly electric, a headliner with the razor-sharp focus of a persistent player on the boards.  For those that don't know the reference, they started making superhero movies before 2005-please investigate.
Why the Love: Who doesn't love Jack?  Honestly-the man is one of the most consistently watchable presences in the history of cinema, and unlike de Niro/Pacino, he actually kept challenging himself for most of the latter half of his career, scoring that third Oscar that alluded Bob (and severely alluded Al).  Nicholson may occasionally over-indulge in his reputation as a batshit crazy screen presence, but he had the bonafides from early in his career (that he occasionally brought out just to prove he still had it in places like About Schmidt) to be both a caricature and a great actor.  Also, he usually made really good movies-taste in scripts should not be discounted here.
My Favorite Performance: It feels weird not to go with something like The Shining or Cuckoo's Nest, since those are the roles that are kind of hallmarks of Nicholson's career, but I can't pick anything other than Jake Gittes in Chinatown.  This is Jack when he's still proving himself as one of the great screen presences, so he holds back in moments he later would have partook in some scenery, and that restraint adds to the menace of one of the truly perfect films.
Missing Piece: I've seen most of Nicholson's most important roles, but I am missing Five Easy Pieces, which I'm actually confident is toward the top of my Netflix queue so that's coming up pretty quickly.  After that, maybe Prizzi's Honor?

Brad Pitt (1963-Present)


Oscar History: 3 nominations (As an actor, though Pitt is 3/1 with producing, as he won for 12 Years a Slave, and had the Academy not changed the rules he should have been included as a nominee for producing The Tree of Life as well)
First Impressions: Joe.  I always pronounce that name the way that Anthony Hopkins did in Meet Joe Black. I remember being struck while watching it that Pitt was both one of the most beautiful men I'd ever seen and how much more I was enjoying this film than all of my classmates, who found it dull and listless while I found it terribly romantic and moving.  I haven't revisited it in many years, but I do believe it was one of the first times I realized it was okay to have an opinion different than the popular one, a critical moment in an appreciation for the movies.
Why the Love: Pitt, more than any other actor, gets the free pass when it comes to me seeing his movies-with two exceptions (at least one of which is on my Netflix queue), I've seen every film he's done for over fifteen years, and have just been in awe of his Adonis-like determination.  Pitt is, like Newman, an actor that perhaps is too beautiful for him to initially be taken seriously but he is also a consummate performer, finding challenging, subdued ways into all of his characters-he's the rare guy that can headline an action film and add an actor's sensibilities to the role, giving us more for our ticket price.  I'm forever in love with him.
My Favorite Performance: A few actors on this list I hadn't actually thought before about what my "favorite" performance is of theirs, and Pitt is one of them.  Argh-it's such a tossup between Assassination of Jesse James and The Tree of Life (both his peak for different reasons) that I'm not going to choose-if you force me to in the comments, I might relent in hopes of getting more interaction on the blog.
Missing Piece: I've seen, as I mentioned, almost every film of Pitt's for the past fifteen years.  However, a bit of his earlier work still alludes me (though even there it's not much), and one of those that I'm thrilled to eventually get to see is 12 Monkeys, his first Oscar-nominated turn.

James Stewart (1908-1997)


Oscar History: 5 nominations/1 win (The Philadelphia Story, though he also won an Honorary Oscar in 1984 for his general contributions to the movies)
First Impressions: Like so many of us, my initial introduction to Jimmy Stewart was as George Bailey, a worthy first chapter for pretty much anyone as Stewart was an actor I instantly fell in love with, the way he distinctly pronounced every sentence (I've said "Mary, Mary" like him for so many years that I can't even remember when it started) and found his heart at the end of the picture.  How could you not fall in love?
Why the Love: Stewart long has received comparisons to another actor that I fell in love with in my youth, though he was current at the time, Tom Hanks, but let's face facts here (with all due respect to Tom): Stewart is a more interesting performer and better actor.  While Hanks frequently traded on his nice-guy persona, Stewart found a balance between maintaining it and occasionally making us uncomfortable in it.  Look at, say, the way that he abandons all hope in It's a Wonderful Life despite him being a genuinely good guy or how he looks back with anguish on his failures in Liberty Valance.  He found a way to challenge the audience while still remaining Jimmy Stewart.
My Favorite Performance: Like Nicholson, it feels somewhat like cheating to go with Stewart's most atypical classic role, but how can you turn down Scottie in Vertigo, the film where Stewart completely abandons his nice guy image (something he likely could only do once quite effectively), but does so in such a way as to make a cinematic masterpiece.
Missing Piece: Anatomy of a Murder is the final major film of Stewart's filmography I've never seen, and was his final Best Actor nomination so the OVP will eventually steer me there.

Orson Welles (1915-1985)

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Citizen Kane, though he was also nominated for writing and directing the movie, and would win an Honorary Oscar in 1970)
First Impressions: It would be Rosebud herself as my first impression of Welles, an actor who loomed very large early on for me, but also quite small, in the same way as Vivien Leigh since his most famous role so overshadowed everything else in his filmography.
Why the Love: Welles is a champion of the screen, a truly great thespian who occasionally indulged his reputation more than he should have (remember those wine commercials, not to mention Transformers?), but when he was on (which was most of the time), he was stupendous, a consummate actor whether or not he was behind the screen directing himself.  To limit yourself to Charlie Kane might be understandable, but would deprive you of one of the great screen icons.
My Favorite Performance: I mean, it's the greatest film of all-time for a reason, so I think I have to put Citizen Kane, but it's worth noting that Oscar could have had a Swanson/Davis style match of acting master classes in 1958 had they simply nominated Stewart for Vertigo and Orson Welles for his "wilderness period" opus Touch of Evil.  Throw in Harry Lime in The Third Man, and Welles arguably should have had three acting Oscars, even though he never got one.
Missing Piece: Perhaps Chimes at Midnight, which actually just came out on Netflix disc and so this might actually happen after years of trying to track it down.

There you have it-my dozen favorite actors.  There's a lot to go over here, so head to the comments and let me know what you think-did I make the right calls in performances, missing pieces, and especially in the twelve men I listed?  Who would you have found room for?  Share below!