OVP: Adapted Screenplay (2004)

 OVP: Best Adapted Screenplay (2004)

The Nominees Were...

Richard Linklater, Julie Delpy, & Ethan Hawke, Before Sunset

David Magee, Finding Neverland

Paul Haggis, Million Dollar Baby

Jose Rivera, The Motorcycle Diaries

Alexander Payne & Jim Taylor, Sideways

My Thoughts: I'm writing this in advance of last night's Oscars (we'll have a ceremony recap later today), so I don't know which film joined our winner of this category (I'll reveal it in a second if your memory isn't solid), but I'm excited to remind everyone today that while the Oscar season is now over for 2020-21, it's pretty much always an Oscar season on TMROJ, and it's been 2004 for a number of weeks now (if you're just joining us, click below for links to past 2004 Oscar contests, we do new ones every Monday & Wednesday).  We are hitting the writing categories this week, and we're going to start with the one film that hasn't been discussed at all, Before Sunset, the "sole screenplay" nominee of 2004.

I always think it's a little weird that sequels are automatically adapted.  Like, it's not being adapted from anything-the story is totally created from scratch.  That is, however, my only complaint about this nomination.  Before Sunset is one of my favorite movies, not just of 2004, but in general.  While every film in the Celine & Jesse trilogy is a masterwork, this one is the best, knowingly reexamining our concept of what a cinematic romance is, and giving us a love story with a genuine ticking clock approach.  The writing is so sophisticated, distinguishing well between the vibrant "it's all going to be like this" optimism of your twenties with the knowing (but not yet weathered) approach of your thirties to love.  I love this movie so much (the Nina Simone ending!), and I cry every time I see it.  It's heart-wrenching, uplifting, & totally brilliant.

Before Sunset is not the only one of these films totally in love with dialogue (and love at a certain age), though.  Sideways is magnificent in that regard as well.  A simple concept (two unlikely friends, only one an actual bachelor) go on an expedition through wine country where they meet two women, one of whom changes their life forever.  But Sideways is a total winner of a screenplay in the way it embraces dialogue.  Think of the snobbery-fueled tirades that Paul Giamatti goes on (still the only performance of his that I liked, though not as much as the collective world did), or Virginia Madsen's "The Life of Wine" monologue.  These might not work-this is pretty sophisticated conversation...it's not necessarily meant to be relatable to most of the audience.  But it works because it's high-quality & because film is sometimes about learning about a world you don't know, encountering lives you haven't seen before but understand better for watching them.

This is part of what happens in The Motorcycle Diaries.  Certainly few of us can relate to the world of a young Che Guevera.  But while The Motorcycle Diaries is beautiful, its script doesn't really work for me.  The character development around Che isn't strong enough, and it's a bit tedious & plodding throughout the middle of the story.  There's not enough there, particularly when it comes to the central relationship (no growth...are they meant to be tacit lovers, soulmates...what's the deal?).  Few films have I wanted to love more (and didn't) than this movie as this is exactly up my alley, but Motorcycle Diaries came up lacking for me in terms of story.

This is also true of Finding Neverland.  The movie is less up-my-alley than the moving, Malick-adjacent Motorcycle Diaries, but it is about a writer (always my favorite biopic subject).  However, it doesn't really have enough perspective on its main character (JM Barrie), and it doesn't have enough hints to the magic of Peter Pan.  This lack of perspective hurts the movie as it moves on, as we don't have a strong enough understanding of what makes this a profound moment for Barrie...obviously the happenings are sad, but where does this land for him, why can he create a timeless classic from this story.  The screenplay is too lifeless for us to make the connection between the two.

Paul Haggis would become something of a pariah in my world the year after Million Dollar Baby (fun fact I'm sure I've stated throughout this & might say again-my first date with a guy was to Million Dollar Baby), and while I didn't like the movie, this is not Crash.  The central story in Million Dollar Baby isn't a bad one-a woman trying to find the father figure she never had, someone who could celebrate her talents...it's a good story, and the acting is solid (if not exceptional) enough to ground it.  The film's treatment of Maggie's family is awful (Margo Martindale, a great actress otherwise, is genuinely bad in this role), though, and it's not breaking any new ground plot-wise.  Still this is not a bad screenplay.  It's not just an Oscar-worthy one.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes combine their writing categories so there is no adapted or original distinction, and thus we have three adapted nominees in their five choices: Sideways (which won), Finding Neverland, and Closer, a movie they liked much better than Oscar.  The BAFTA's split, and true-to-form in 2004, went somewhat their own way, giving Sideways the trophy but making room for The Chorus and Closer over Before Sunset & Million Dollar Baby.  WGA also gave their trophy to Sideways, here, though, the only skipped Oscar nominee was Finding Neverland, and they went with Mean Girls in its place.  And while I know that a collective generation of gay men might protest, that WGA indication wasn't proof that Mean Girls nearly made it to the Oscars-I would assume Closer was the sixth place finisher.

Films I Would Have Nominated: I, however, would've found room for both.  Honestly-the Adapted Screenplay field was so good in 2004 it's a shock that Oscar came up with such a tepid list of contenders, and it's particularly maddening that they did so with Closer and Mean Girls both sitting there, ready to be plucked.

Oscar's Choice: There was no stopping Sideways-this might have been the surest bet of the night in 2004.

My Choice: I can't pick anything other than Before Sunset.  Sideways is excellent and a very respectable winner (a deserving silver it gets from me), but Before Sunset is part of my DNA at this point, and I cannot deny it.  Coming behind are Million Dollar Baby, The Motorcycle Diaries, and Finding Neverland, in that order.

Those are my thoughts-what about you?  I know I'm in the minority here considering the hosannas it got at the time, but is anyone with me for Before Sunset over Sideways?  How much better would this lineup be if you bumped two of the also-rans in favor of the gemlike Mean Girls and the controlled Closer?  And what do you think about sequels automatically being adapted?  Share your thoughts below!

Also in 2004: Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume, Film Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, Previously in 2004

Past Best Adapted Screenplay Contests: 2005, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2019

Where'd You Go, Bernadette (2019)

Film: Where'd You Go, Bernadette (2019)
Stars: Cate Blanchett, Billy Crudup, Emma Nelson, Kristen Wiig, Judy Greer, Laurence Fishburne
Director: Richard Linklater
Oscar History: Though it didn't score with Oscar, Cate Blanchett did get a surprise Globes nomination for Best Actress.
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

In just a couple of days, I will be announcing my Top 10 lists for 2019 (it'll be Sunday & Monday), and as a result I'm trying to get through a couple of last-minute screenings.  One of those was a movie I had every intention of seeing when it was in theaters when it was out in August, but for some reason it alluded me, despite there not being a lot of major films in theaters at the time.  The film's reviews were paltry, and the box office poor, but I see pretty much every Cate Blanchett movie, and I definitely see anything that Richard Linklater crafts together (three of his films were on my Top 10's in past years of this decade), but the film just never happened.  As I felt that Linklater's perch as one of my favorite directors of the decade required me to get this done before I completed 2019, this has become one of the last three screenings I'll do before the "end" of 2019.

(Spoilers Ahead) Based on the bestselling novel by Maria Semple, the movie is about Bernadette (Blanchett), a brilliant architect who has become increasingly antisocial & isolated in the years since her greatest triumph (an environmentally-conscious house) was destroyed by a callous neighbor.  In the years since, she's become less responsive to her husband Elgin (Crudup) and relies on her daughter Bee (Nelson) for most of her human connection.  Her world comes to a head when Bernadette's neighbor Audrey (Wiig) has her house flooded because Bernadette removes some bushes (on Audrey's request), knowing that doing so will cause a mudslide into Audrey's house.  Things get worse for her when it's revealed that she's been accidentally using an identity thief as a personal assistant, and her husband wants to send her to a mental health facility to get past her anxiety issues.  Instead, Bernadette runs away from him, stays with Audrey (and apologizes) & then goes on the trip to Antarctica that her daughter wanted them to take as a family alone, eventually discovering a project while in the southern continent to redesign a science facility, thus reigniting her passion for architecture, her family, and her life.

The movie is very different than the book, something I didn't know from reading the book, but seeking out a description of it afterward as it was hard to tell what was missing in this movie that had somehow been present in Semple's massive bestseller.  In the book, Elgin is much more of an ass (he has an affair with his assistant while Bernadette is missing), and the mystery is actually a mystery, not something we see explained pretty much the second Bernadette disappears.  This makes much more sense, as Bernadette the film is a movie with very little stakes.

Stakes, if you look at his filmography, is not Richard Linklater's forte.  Films like Before Sunrise, Boyhood, and Everybody Wants Some! are bright masterpieces, but if there are stakes they're ancillary to the plot, which is essentially just looking at characters and letting the story shape around them as you film.  This isn't obviously how they're written (they have plots-this isn't a Terrence Malick film), but his talent as a director is in finding the stories that happen in our everyday life that shape us as people, not using characters in a more traditional sense-we don't always have an understanding of what is important in this world.  Given a novel to confine himself and his writing, Linklater struggles.  The movie has occasional moments of interest (the scenes in Antarctica are the only ones where Linklater and Blanchett's uneven performance work), but this is a creative failure even if it's an intriguing one.  Every time you think you like Bernadette, he holds back, not letting us free into the world of this fascinating, complicated woman, and no amount of lovingly-framed architecture is going to change that.  This is worthwhile only if you're a Linklater or Blanchett completist, but don't expect anything more than missed opportunities.

4 Mini Reviews

As I'm working through all of the films I haven't touched on in the past few months, struggling to catch up with my film reviews, I'm going to do something I'm generally loathe to do: do a mini review of the pictures.  I don't like doing this, in part because while this is a generally low-traffic blog for me it's the closest thing I get to a time capsule of my thoughts on a specific picture and what things stuck out to me as soon as I watched it rather than distant memories where so-often you're reliant upon what others called out as important about the film afterwards than what you, yourself liked at the time.  However, these have been distant enough that I won't have that cache, none were nominated for an Oscar so I won't be referencing these films again for the OVP, and due simply to time (I need to get some of these reviews out of my draft folder), we'll be doing four short mini reviews.  If any of these are ones you want to discuss more thoroughly or get my expanded thoughts, I'm happy to discuss in the comments.

(Some Spoilers ahead for Stronger, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Wonderstruck, and Last Flag Flying-read only the paragraphs where you've seen the films if you have a spoiler allergy)

Stronger (dir. David Gordon Green)

The story of a man whose legs were blown off after the Boston Marathon is shocking in the way that it avoids overly sentimentalizing its main character Jeff Bauman (played by Jake Gyllenhaal in yet another superb performance).  I went into this picture reluctantly, assuming it would be your general true-life story that deserves kudos to the actual person, but which comes across as drivel in the film, but Gyllenhaal plays Bauman as a real person, struggling with the concept of being a hero for basically being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and who must admit feelings he has even if he's someone that doesn't have any sort of comfort admitting feelings.  Hats off to both he and the two women in his life, his girlfriend Tatiana Maslany and his mother Miranda Richardson, who find a strong, independent dynamic for their work.  The film's story is too-cliched and hugs the many sentimental traps that it avoided the first half when we get to the ending, but by-and-large this is one of the better "unlikely real-life hero" stories I've seen in a while. (Ranking: 3/5 stars)

The Killing of a Sacred Deer (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

I left Dogtooth disgusted and confused.  I left The Lobster confused but getting where this was headed.  Sacred Deer seems to combine the two pictures.  While it's hard to imagine something as disturbing as Dogtooth, I can't deny this is a really nasty movie.  The film follows Colin Farrell, who has essentially been cursed by a terrifying Barry Koeghan after accidentally killing his father, and as a result Farrell's family (including wife Nicole Kidman) are slowly dying.  As punishment from Koeghan's character, Farrell must choose one of his family members to die, or else they all will.  The film is quite literal, even though at first you're meant not to trust Koeghan's character.  This picture is probably one that works best in comparison to Lanthimos's other flicks, knowing that he'll soon hit his near-perfect stride with The Favourite, and realizing that this is him trying out adventures that sometimes work, sometimes don't (the film struggles with its pacing once you realize the curse is real), but it's still a wild, creepy ride. (Ranking: 3/5 stars)

Wonderstruck (dir. Todd Haynes)

Todd Haynes' films are a hodgepodge for me, where I always respect them, but I don't ever love them (except for Carol).  Wonderstruck, his first film since the Blanchett-Mara duet, is back to "respect but don't love," but there's still a lot to admire here.  The film has a terrific central performance by Millicent Simmonds as a young deaf girl who is trying to find her brother in the Museum of Natural History in New York City (Julianne Moore plays her as an adult).  Told concurrently is a tale about a young man fifty years later who has just lost his mother (Michelle Williams) and is also trying to run away in the Museum of Natural History.  Beautifully shot by Edward Lachman, there are some wonderfully-felt scenes where we explore the Natural History Museum and the Queens Museum (I love museums-this was catnip for me), though the film's ending is a bit of a letdown, and it felt too cold for a movie that is trying to be warm.  Still, worth your time. (Ranking: 3/5 stars)

Last Flag Flying (dir. Richard Linklater)

Our final film for today is Richard Linklater's latest (at least for a few more weeks): Last Flag Flying.  Starring Steve Carell, Bryan Cranston, & Laurence Fishburne as a trio of former war buddies who are on a trek to bury Carell's son where he wanted to be buried (and not in Arlington), this is a road trip by way of Linklater, so you know there's more below-the-surface that he's hoping will come out through his script and plotting.  Linklater's been on a roll lately (Before Midnight, Boyhood, and Everybody Wants Some! all made my Top 5 of the year), but this was a misfire.  Cranston overcompensates as an actor, and Carell under-emotes, and while there's a lot of meat about politics, aging, death, and friendship in Linklater's script, it doesn't gel.  Here's to hoping that Cate Blanchett gets him back into his groove. (Ranking: 2/5 stars)

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!

John's Top 10 Films of 2016

Yesterday we counted down the worst films of 2016, and since I don't want to leave you with the worst for very long (we get enough of that from the news right now), I am happy to start your Monday off right with a look at the best.  2016 wasn't my favorite cinematic year (certainly not when compared with 2014 or 2015), but it had a lot to say about grief, life, and the promises of humanity even when it's hard to find them in the real world.  Here (alphabetically, not in ranked order) are my ten favorite films of 2016:

Arrival (dir. Denis Villeneuve)

In a world where we regularly celebrate the mass destruction of superheroes and expect to see national monuments explode whenever there's an alien invasion, Denis Vileneuve's film finds all of the wonder of an alien encounter with none of the expected cliche.  A marvelous, precise performance by Amy Adams grounds this film about loss, sacrifice, and the benefits of peace.  Easily the best film I've seen from Villeneuve.

Everybody Wants Some!!! (dir. Richard Linklater)

I genuinely would have been fine with just a parade of these actors in baseball uniforms, but Richard Linklater doesn't play that way.  Everybody Wants Some!!! is the rare movie about nostalgia that isn't steeped in comforting the audience, but truly allowing them to relive the fleeting nature of youth, while never sparing them from the realities of time disappearing.  Plus, it does it while being insanely funny and quotable as hell.  Linklater continues his nearly impossibly-strong batting average with star-turns from Tyler Hoechlin and Glen Powell.

From Afar (dir. Lorenzo Vigas)

The best mystery film of the year, a wonderfully Hitchcockian creation.  Vigas plays with the politics of sex, class, and age in this noir that keeps you guessing right up until the end, and then beyond.  Anchored by naturalistic work from Alfredo Castro and Luis Silva, it's a pity that Oscar didn't see the necessity to nominate the year's best foreign-language movie.

Hidden Figures (dir. Theodore Melfi)

What happens when you take three of the most charismatic film stars working, put them in a film that centers around both a story you know (John Glenn circling the globe) and one you don't (the struggles of black women in the space program), have everyone involved running on top cylinders with a sharp eye on character growth, and add in some genuine old-school movie magic?  You get my favorite "Academy fare" movie since Argo.  This is the rare feel-good film that you won't be hating yourself for loving the next day.

Jackie (dir. Pablo Larrain)

I am not someone you'll find clamoring for a biopic, not least of which about one of the most famous stories of the 20th Century that's been told dozens of times previously.  And yet, Pablo Larrain had me from the opening scenes of Jackie, a movie that dares to question our understanding of one of the most famous people on the planet.  With a career-best piece of work from Natalie Portman, Jackie is that rare true story that leaves you wanting more once the credits begin to role.

L'Attesa (dir. Piero Messina)

The most obscure film on this list, L'Attesa took the most frequent cinematic subject of 2016 (the death of a family member), and turns it into a claustrophobic character study of two women struggling with grief and regret.  Juliette Binoche continues her streak as perhaps the greatest living actor with an intense naturalism, while Lou de Laage is every bit her equal as a young woman trying to understand impossible questions about her boyfriend's mother.

Manchester by the Sea (dir. Kenneth Lonergan)

Kenneth Lonergan knows better than pretty much any other writer in Hollywood the ways to finding the complicated emotions and realities of family, and the bonds that tie them together.  Here we are given a marvelous piece-of-work from Casey Affleck, a man who lives as a shell of his former self, failing with emotions that he cannot fully bear to admit to himself.  A truly devastating look at the human experience.

A Monster Calls (dir. JA Bayona)

It's rare to find a live-action children's film these days that asks tough questions for all of its audience, while still maintaining a sense of magic and discovery.  Never cloying, never false, always classic and straight-forward and intensely felt, JA Bayona's A Monster Calls is a miracle, a movie that towers from start to finish with a sheer appreciation of life, both its delicacies and its strengths.

Moonlight (dir. Barry Jenkins)

The most confident movie I saw this year was oddly about a deeply insecure young man's struggle with finding out who he is.  From start to finish, Barry Jenkins' opus shows us identity, both outward and in, and gives us performance after performance of wonderful realism and heart.  Stylistically and creatively a triumph to behold.

Silence (dir. Martin Scorsese)

It says something that at the age of 74, Martin Scorsese is not only making movies, but complicated, controversial, and difficult films that still manage to soar with meaning and strength.  Part thriller, part religious experience, and part epic, Scorsese shows the trials of faith and man's struggle with coming to terms with God's expectations in this brilliant picture, by my measure his finest since GoodFellas.

OVP: Picture (2014)

OVP: Best Picture (2014)

The Nominees Were...

Clint Eastwood, Robert Lorenz, Andrew Lazar, Bradley Cooper, and Peter Morgan, American Sniper

Alejandro G. Inarritu, John Lesher, and James W. Skotchdopole, Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Richard Linklater and Cathleen Sutherland, Boyhood

Wes Anderson, Scott Rudin, Steven Rales, and Jeremy Dawson, The Grand Budapest Hotel

Nora Grossman, Ido Ostrowsky, and Teddy Schwarzman, The Imitation Game

Christian Colson, Oprah Winfrey, Dede Gardner, and Jeremy Kleiner, Selma

Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner, Lisa Bruce, and Anthony McCarten, The Theory of Everything

Jason Blum, Helen Estabrook, and David Lancaster, Whiplash

My Thoughts: I really have absolutely no excuses as to why these take me so long to finish up-I genuinely enjoy doing them and while I never get many comments (or any comments), I know people are visiting and reading these but some nine months later, we are finally coming to the end of the 2014 Oscar Viewing Project.  I will probably start up 2007 in the next week or so as that's our next stop on the OVP train and am praying that I don't take a gestational period to finish that one up, but encouragement is always appreciated-please peruse the below links and comment on articles if you enjoy reading these and going back to past Oscar races, as I surely enjoy doing the write-ups.  But enough self-promotion, let's close out 2014.

We'll start with The Theory of Everything because I feel like it, and because it's the sort of picture that probably is the least memorable, so let's build to something, shall we?  Honestly, the movie itself seemed inevitable, and I still can't get over how much I enjoyed the first thirty minutes, genuinely feeling like it might be the rare biopic that doesn't rely on the same repetitive tropes we always see from the genre, but instead letting a real-life story be properly intermingled with movie-making magic, with a charming lad meeting a lovely lady and fireworks start popping.  Unfortunately for all of us, the film can't really handle when reality and real-life come into the picture.  Stephen Hawking is an extraordinary human being, but onscreen here he is hardly complicated, and so much of his life is transformed into a stiff upper lip contest, rather than having much feeling, either outward or in "a woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets" manner.  The film fails in that regard, and as a result becomes middling rather than something you recall with pangs of emotion.

Alongside it in the biopic genre is The Imitation Game, arguably the film I have been the most hard on throughout these write-ups, but it's with sound reason.  The film itself is not good, and poorly edited and plotted.  Forget for a second the homophobia the director and writers utilize in addressing Alan Turing's life-the entire plot is formulaic, and only a few moments in the film (like Joan Clarke telling off Alan Turing) feel at all interesting or have any mystery around the characters.  The film, for a movie that is so high stakes, never mounts the hurdle of us knowing how the story ends, which the best biopics consistently can accomplish (see our recent review of United 93 for a strong example).  The Imitation Game also severely underwrites the gay nature of the main character, and as a result he leaves a puzzle rather than something that the film is trying to solve for the audience.  Unless the director equates being gay to a mental illness, it's hard to distinguish the two without more information.  This is a pity because, due to the celebration the movie received from critics, this is surely the only major biopic we will ever get about the extraordinary Alan Turing.

Continuing our real-life direction, we have American Sniper, the true story of Chris Kyle, the most successful sniper in American history.  Chris Kyle's story is arguably the least well-known of these three, and also has the most potential considering the bravura acting from Bradley Cooper at the lead and the way that Clint Eastwood has built strong narratives around complicated heroes in the past.  And yet Clint's not giving us much to go with on the screen, even if some of his directorial decisions are thrilling.  Forget that he glosses over some of the more fascinating aspects of Kyle's character (accounts of his casual racism have been well-documented in the past) as I oftentimes say you need to adapt a biopic to make it more cinematic; still, the Kyle onscreen feels wildly underwritten and the focus of the film gets less interesting when it just excuses Kyle's morality issues with PTSD.  The unfortunate thing here is that American Sniper, unlike The Imitation Game and The Theory of Everything, has the makings of a truly superb movie-it could have been Clint's best since Unforgiven.  But whether out of political prudence or simply the inability to see that a man who views the world in black-and-white is more interesting from the grey, Eastwood wasn't able to bring that to the screen.

Our final biopic of the bunch is undoubtedly the best.  Selma starts off in some ways at a disadvantage, much like Lincoln a few years back, in that it's trying to create a definitive story about a man who is so ingrained in people's minds that he's practically a comic book superhero.  The film smartly chooses only a short period of Dr. King's life, the lead-up to his march through Selma, Alabama, to focus upon rather than creating an exhaustive origin story instead, but it's still hampered a bit in its treatment of King as the main character, as the least interesting scenes are the ones that focus on him, with both his complicated relationship with Coretta Scott King and his reluctant attitude toward being a politician being underwritten.  The movie is at its most thought-provoking and true when its instead focusing on nameless, faceless people who stood up to racism, whether in a march or simply trying to vote.  DuVernay is unflinching in the way she addresses these scenes, giving us a sharp, harsh look at the long toll that racism took on millions of people in the 1960's, and how that still lingers in the lives of people today.

It's strange to pivot from the brutal history of racism in Selma to the frothy confection of The Grand Budapest Hotel, but the Best Picture category frequently makes strange bedfellows.  It's worth noting, of course, that prejudice rears its head quite frequently in the train sequences of The Grand Budapest Hotel, as Gustave M. and his young companion have to deal with a ruthless totalitarian government in the backdrop of their shenanigans and the quest to save their hotel.  The problem I had with Grand Budapest, which is generally delightful thanks to the central performance of Ralph Fiennes, is that it never acknowledges that the romantic plot-line is dead.  The true core of the story is the sacrifices that Gustave is willing to make to protect his friend Zero, not necessarily that we need an insertion of heteronormative behavior by having Zero "straight-labelled" by having a relationship with Agatha.  The Agatha story pulls away from the importance of Gustave to Zero's life, and makes the film nearly falter in the last ten minutes.  That being said, it's easily the best Wes Anderson film there is, and one I enjoyed tremendously, save for the end focus.

Whiplash is another film where the opinion is driven in part by the ending, though here it's in a way to save the picture.  Most of the film is not particularly good.  There's occasionally some great monologues out of JK Simmons, but Miles Teller's Andrew (as well as Simmons' ability to continue teaching) are both questionable at best.  We get the sense that Andrew didn't really exist until Terence Fletcher came into his life, and doesn't know how to function without him as a driving force.  Obviously he had to have had gumption to get to this university and ability, so why can't he find a balance with his girlfriend and father, both of whom we're meant to believe are important to him but never really seem that way, even if it's clearly pertinent to the narrative that they remain tokens of his lost innocence.  The ending, with him shattering his humanity in pursuit of perfection, is a strong metaphor and nearly makes the film seem great, but everything in front of it is tainted in some ways by a lack of believability and inconsistency in the main character.

We turn now to the two films that genuinely competed for the Academy Award, and if you've been following along you know that one of them is probably my favorite.  The thing about Boyhood is that based on the plot alone (filming, for twelve years, a narrative picture), it would be challenging and thought-provoking.  A million think pieces about devotion to your craft and wanting to tell the ultimate story are all there for the taking, but Boyhood is genuinely a masterful picture.  The film unfolds slowly, but increasingly, like in life, it feels like it's moving too fast, with us wanting more time with a specific chapter in Mason's life but knowing that, like life, it will quickly pass into the next phase.  The film operates under a simple "all of life is interesting" guiding principle, and it works because Linklater has faith in the characters that he has created.  Watching Mason's parents as they both embark on journeys that yield little and realizing that Mason's promise may be just as small-it's a fascinating commentary on the way that we live through our dreams, but life happens whether or not we want to punch the pause button.  I was floored by this movie, and left in awe as it ended, gifting us such a wonderful slice-of-life picture.

Birdman also plays with time a bit, never really cutting away from our central Riggan, but here we get a more stylized look at the wonders of getting older.  Birdman functions on two levels for me.  One, there's the bitter, nasty Sunset Boulevard style look at celebrity, and in particular the way we worship and then discard the most famous of people in the world with little thought for their humanity or giving much reason as to why.  The second is the more relatable, uncomfortable look the film pushes on age.  Age, and the need to remain vital even if the zeitgeist has shifted away from worshiping your generation, is everywhere in Birdman and critically-important to the story.  Unlike most of his films, though, AGI makes these feel very real but never in a dour, lifeless way, but in a focus that crackles and shoots you from the side, like the way that Emma Stone's Sam is given so much validation just by virtue of her youth.  It's a biting, rich movie that has so many incredible ideas that it's hard to knock the Academy for choosing inarguably its gutsiest and finest Best Picture winner since No Country for Old Men.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Globes were definitely in their own direction in 2014, skipping over a couple of key nominees and actually rejecting the Best Picture victor, even if it wasn't in the Drama category.  Yes, The Grand Budapest Hotel topped Birdman in Comedy/Musical, along with St. Vincent, Into the Woods, and Pride, while Boyhood emerged victorious over Foxcatcher, The Imitation Game, Selma, and The Theory of Everything.  The PGA Awards were ten-wide unlike Oscar, so they actually included all but Selma in their lineup (likely due to Selma's bizarre under-the-radar campaign for the Oscar that ended in disaster for Paramount), with Birdman taking the top prize and Nightcrawler, Foxcatcher, and Gone Girl getting the remaining three spots.  Finally, at the BAFTA Awards they selected Boyhood as their victor, topping Birdman, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Imitation Game, and The Theory of Everything.  Looking at these, had the Academy stuck to its nine-wide field, it feels like Foxcatcher would have been the beneficiary rather than Gone Girl or Nightcrawler-it had the Best Director nomination, scored at the Globes/PGA's, and got multiple other Oscar nominations in general.  In a ten-wide field it's impossible to imagine it missing.

Films I Would Have Nominated: I would have kept Pride, which got that shock Globe citation and was one of my favorite pictures so far this decade.  I also would have gone with the cerebral Under the Skin, the dangerous Stranger by the Lake, the surprisingly effective Fault in Our Stars (what-we all have our favorites), the outstanding Wild, and the jarring Nightcrawler.

Oscar’s Choice: In one of the truly toughest-to-call Best Picture contests I've seen in years (which was weirdly duplicated one year later by an even harder call), Birdman took the cake away from Boyhood.

My Choice: Boyhood is far-and-away my favorite film of 2014, so this is an easy call for me.  I'd follow it with Birdman, Selma, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Theory of Everything, Whiplash, American Sniper, and The Imitation Game.

And there we have it folks-2014 is officially over with!  What are your thoughts on the cinematic year at large-were you more Team Boyhood or Team Birdman?  Are you still smarting over those Selma snubs, or is the lack of Nightcrawler making you break out into hives right now?  And overall, what was the best picture of 2014?  Share in the comments!

Also in 2014: Director, Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Original Screenplay, Adapted Screenplay, Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature Film, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Costume, Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, Documentary Short, Live Action Short, Animated Short, Previously in 2014

Past Best Picture Contests: 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013