You're right, Steve and C.C., I should have pointed out my favorite moment of the night. Of course it was Robert Downey, Jr. (my man) and Jude Law (the flop-surviving dynamo: Gigolo Joe).
How on earth could you better present Visual Effects?
Jude Law: "It’s their moment. You know, if it wasn’t for them your closest association with a superhero would have been in 2001. When you got busted in a cheap hotel with a woman dressed as Batgirl."
Robert Downey, Jr. : "Okay, first of all, that cheap hotel room cost $1250 with a corporate discount. Secondly, it was 2000 not 2001. And most importantly, she was dressed as Wonder Woman. And THAT attention to detail is what has won the respect of all the Academy voters for these fine men and women."
Monday, February 28, 2011
The King's Sweep: And So It Is.
First of all -- how'd I do?
Art Direction, Costume Design, Makeup, Sound, Sound Effects Editing, Visual Effects Editing, Score (well, I narrowed it down to two -- but who didn't), Song, Editing, Documentary, Adapted Screenplay, Actor.
So Denmark gets Foreign Film -- fine, it did everywhere else.
So Pfister gets Cinematography -- my apologies to the oft nominated Deakins, but an Inception win is aok with me. Looks like the Nolan pic walked away with the most awards of the night, didn't it?
Annette!
It was clear Natalie Portman had it in the bag -- but as a faithful Annettean, I was not going to put that in writing. Natalie has held my heart for many a moon -- but this is Annette we're talking about. My little four time nominee. Bless her and keep her. Natalie, I salute your work. And man, you were a trooper hauling that bursting belly around. You did not look comfortable on the red carpet.
Supporting...
The Fighter duo really took it to the bank this year -- and I'm a little saddened to see there was no upset in either category. But I've said it before -- and shall again -- I seem in the incredible minority with my lukewarm reaction to Marky Mark's passion project.
So let's talk for a moment about the multiple minutes surrounding Melissa Leo's win. Why was Kirk Douglas sent onto the stage? How did that happen? Will an elder-statesman of a star ever be sent on stage again? What on earth was going on with Melissa Leo's speech? What was with the "I have learned so much about the Academy. It's about selling movies and respecting the work?" What does that mean? Why did she leave with Kirk's cane? Someone please help me understand everything that took place.
Christian Bale is a fantastic actor and thus I salute him. The little boy from Empire of the Sun has come a long way. I, for one, plan to follow his lead by thanking his wife and children somewhat forgetfully without having mentioned a specific name. That speech can be played forever and will never point to a specific relationship. Way to Swank it, Bale.
The Writers...
I would have loved to have seen Nolan get the respect he deserves with an original screenplay Oscar. I wonder when that -- or a directing nomination -- will happen for him. The Seidler win was one of the evening's more touching moments.
Both Mr. Seidler and Mr. Sorkin gave some excellent speeches. Watching Sorkin get up there and rattle off something that polished shows what a remarkable writer the man is -- and how many Emmys he's accepted.
Director AND Picture?!
The Fincher loss was a stunner. An absolute stunner and once again proof of the HW's power. My goodness. Yes, yes, it rarely splits. But I will happily admit that I 100% believed that either the awards were going to split or The Social Network was taking it all. It would be foolish to claim that The King's Speech didn't have steadily building momentum straight through the award season -- making it clear that it was going to take picture. But it sure as hell didn't seem like Tom Hooper was coming along!
After Zodiac, Benjamin Button, and now The Social Network -- one wonders if Fincher will have another crack at the gold, especially now that he's knee-deep in the Millenium Trilogy. What a mind-blower.
How about those hosts?
The show was a complete screwball. There seemed no reason to just stick Anne Hathaway out there alone to sing. But if that's what it takes to put James Franco in a dress -- I'll take it. He really pulled it off!
Whether they pulled off the actual job of hosting is another story. The opening worked for me. I greatly enjoyed traveling through Alec Baldwin's dreams and thought there were some great jokes in there.
But it raises the very simple question: Why not simply hire ONE comedian? It baffles the mind.
I know this seems the job to refuse -- but why? Find someone! SomeONE.
So what happens to this little blog now?
Well, I'm going to keep it up. I plan to review each film I see and roll this sucker right into next year's award season.
By the way, Trent Reznor has an Oscar.
Art Direction, Costume Design, Makeup, Sound, Sound Effects Editing, Visual Effects Editing, Score (well, I narrowed it down to two -- but who didn't), Song, Editing, Documentary, Adapted Screenplay, Actor.
So Denmark gets Foreign Film -- fine, it did everywhere else.
So Pfister gets Cinematography -- my apologies to the oft nominated Deakins, but an Inception win is aok with me. Looks like the Nolan pic walked away with the most awards of the night, didn't it?
Annette!
It was clear Natalie Portman had it in the bag -- but as a faithful Annettean, I was not going to put that in writing. Natalie has held my heart for many a moon -- but this is Annette we're talking about. My little four time nominee. Bless her and keep her. Natalie, I salute your work. And man, you were a trooper hauling that bursting belly around. You did not look comfortable on the red carpet.
Supporting...
The Fighter duo really took it to the bank this year -- and I'm a little saddened to see there was no upset in either category. But I've said it before -- and shall again -- I seem in the incredible minority with my lukewarm reaction to Marky Mark's passion project.
So let's talk for a moment about the multiple minutes surrounding Melissa Leo's win. Why was Kirk Douglas sent onto the stage? How did that happen? Will an elder-statesman of a star ever be sent on stage again? What on earth was going on with Melissa Leo's speech? What was with the "I have learned so much about the Academy. It's about selling movies and respecting the work?" What does that mean? Why did she leave with Kirk's cane? Someone please help me understand everything that took place.
Christian Bale is a fantastic actor and thus I salute him. The little boy from Empire of the Sun has come a long way. I, for one, plan to follow his lead by thanking his wife and children somewhat forgetfully without having mentioned a specific name. That speech can be played forever and will never point to a specific relationship. Way to Swank it, Bale.
The Writers...
I would have loved to have seen Nolan get the respect he deserves with an original screenplay Oscar. I wonder when that -- or a directing nomination -- will happen for him. The Seidler win was one of the evening's more touching moments.
Both Mr. Seidler and Mr. Sorkin gave some excellent speeches. Watching Sorkin get up there and rattle off something that polished shows what a remarkable writer the man is -- and how many Emmys he's accepted.
Director AND Picture?!
The Fincher loss was a stunner. An absolute stunner and once again proof of the HW's power. My goodness. Yes, yes, it rarely splits. But I will happily admit that I 100% believed that either the awards were going to split or The Social Network was taking it all. It would be foolish to claim that The King's Speech didn't have steadily building momentum straight through the award season -- making it clear that it was going to take picture. But it sure as hell didn't seem like Tom Hooper was coming along!
After Zodiac, Benjamin Button, and now The Social Network -- one wonders if Fincher will have another crack at the gold, especially now that he's knee-deep in the Millenium Trilogy. What a mind-blower.
How about those hosts?
The show was a complete screwball. There seemed no reason to just stick Anne Hathaway out there alone to sing. But if that's what it takes to put James Franco in a dress -- I'll take it. He really pulled it off!
Whether they pulled off the actual job of hosting is another story. The opening worked for me. I greatly enjoyed traveling through Alec Baldwin's dreams and thought there were some great jokes in there.
But it raises the very simple question: Why not simply hire ONE comedian? It baffles the mind.
I know this seems the job to refuse -- but why? Find someone! SomeONE.
So what happens to this little blog now?
Well, I'm going to keep it up. I plan to review each film I see and roll this sucker right into next year's award season.
By the way, Trent Reznor has an Oscar.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
It's The Day of the Show Y'all: Heartfelt Predictions
Here we are.
After all the waiting, nominated Angelinos are getting their morning coffee and anti-anxiety pills, swarmed by publicists and stylists, selecting the right outfit, the right quaff.
So how will it all go?
I humbly submit my sentimental predictions where I will -- admittedly -- present a combination of what I both expect and hope will occur this evening -- before we settle into a long March of half-baked movies awaiting the quality only May and beyond can bring.
And the winner is...?
Art Direction: Alice in Wonderland should win -- if The King's Speech takes it -- Christ, it might sweep.
Costume Design: Again, Alice in Wonderland -- again, if The King's Speech takes it -- Messiah, etc.
Makeup: The film only I saw on opening day -- The Wolfman.
Sound Editing, Sound Effects Editing, Visual Effects: All 3 will go to Inception, though True Grit took some sound awards just last week and this is often the haven of the Western or the War pic. But this time it seems the dream agents have it locked away. Any non-Nolan wins in these categories are straight-up snubs.
Original Score: As I said before this is one of "McCue's Telling Categories" -- true, a Trent Reznor Academy Award win is something none of us would have ever foreseen. Yes, we bring him "closer to God" -- but, closer to gold? That question never seemed possible. The fact that he is nominated as the cleaned-up score-ist of a Fincher-flick, all these many years past Se7en seems the only way this could come to pass. However, he did win the Golden Globe. And that often proves the kiss of death for musicians: these awards rarely align and it's highly possible Mr. Reznor and and Co-Scorer Atticus Ross will lose -- despite their excellent work.
Hans Zimmer's score for Inception is inspired and groundbreaking. But that buzz seems long faded.
Much as he would be a deserving winner the race is two-way: The Social Network or King's Speech.
Yes, this award will once again give us viewers an insight into which way this thing's tipping -- but this brings me back to Reznor and his surprising score success. This isn't David Byrne scoring The Last Emperor. This isn't Isham. This isn't Knopfler. And Alexandre Desplat is not some new man on the scene. This is Mr. Desplat's fourth nomination, having scored all of Wes Anderson's pictures, Benjamin Button, The Queen, The Ghost Writer, The Golden Compass (whose music was its lone redeeming quality), let alone New Moon, Julie and Julia, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
But will any of that matter? Musicians nominated a zillion times often become musicians who are nominated another zillion times before winning -- just ask Randy Newman or his cousin Thomas Newman, who I think is perhaps the most under-rated under-acknowledged composer out there.
Yes, I just spent that amount of time talking about score -- the fact is, it's a category I love and it's far more essential to the overall film than people credit. I leave it a telling toss-up with hopes of a Zimmer upset.
Original Song: Over the years this has become the most pathetic Oscar category as the movie industry seems to have lost all interest in throwing together "song scores" of significant, original, catchy -- or frankly just plan good songs. The category is basically dead -- which is remarkable considering how most record companies are controlled by the same conglomerates that own the studios. Much as I loved Annie Lennox' "Into the West," the fact of the matter is the last significant song to win was Eminem's "Lose Yourself."
Grasp at all the straws you like, but Hustle and Flow, The Motorcycle Diaries, are far cries from "Let the River Run," "Take My Breath Away," "Streets of Philadelphia" or "My Heart Will Go On." The studios have left this ship to small films like Once and Crazy Heart. Frankly, I do not understand why.
But the question is, who's winning this year -- out of the collection of songs few of us have heard. With the exception of the "Coming Home" from Country Strong, the other three nominees have all won. Newman for Monsters, Inc., Rahman for Slumdog, and Alan Menken has -- that's right -- 8 Oscars.
Folks are talking about Rahman taking it for 127 Hours -- but I think it's Randy Newman's second. "We Belong Together" is no "I Love to See You Smile" or "You Got A Friend In Me" ... but the TS3 love should spill over to its musical maestro.
Cinematography: I firmly think Roger Deakins finally gets his due for True Grit.
Editing: While The Social Network is the odds on favorite -- and I think it will pull it out -- Black Swan could be the upset here. Especially if The Swan also snags Cinematography.
Foreign Film: Though early buzz seems to think there is nothing like a Dane, I'd actually be surprised if Biutiful -- depressant of audiences the world over -- didn't bring Inarritu a golden boy. Oscar already likes him -- this may be a chance to trophy the man.
Documentary Feature: The Inside Job seems to have it -- much as Exit Through the Gift Shop would be a delight.
I'm not even going to pretend to know what's going on in the short categories.
And now the great big biggies...
I'm going out on a limb with a few of these. Go ahead and judge.
Original Screenplay: Christopher Nolan, Inception
Adapted Screenplay: Aaron Sorkin, The Social Network
Supporting Actor: While it looks like Christian Bale has it in the bag for Fighter -- I see a Geoffrey Rush upset as a true possibility -- particular if Harvey has this thing in the bag.
Supporting Actress: I see True Grit's little Hailee Steinfeld as the upset of the evening. Melissa Leo is in the prime position of having previously locked a lead actress nom for a small movie and carefully playing her cards into a stellar supporting role. And perhaps it's my Fighter blindspot combined with my love of a young lady taking home an Oscar -- I'm looking at you, Anna Paquin -- but I smell an upset.
Actor: Is there a question? That reminds me -- I should go buy some Prosecco or something.
Actress: Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right
Director: David Fincher, The Social Network
Picture: The King's Speech buzz has gone straight on through the roof seemingly having slain The Social Network despite all its early victories. It also softens the blow when both Sorkin and Fincher seemingly have it in the bag. But I still think this is a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR toss up and we're simply not going to know until the envelope opens.
The King's Speech? The Social Network? True Grit? -- yes, I'm that crazy.
I truly don't know.
My hope -- regardless of The King's majestic simplicity -- is The Net -- since a deserved Inception upset seems impossible.
We'll see in about 12 hours!
- Matthew J. McCue
After all the waiting, nominated Angelinos are getting their morning coffee and anti-anxiety pills, swarmed by publicists and stylists, selecting the right outfit, the right quaff.
So how will it all go?
I humbly submit my sentimental predictions where I will -- admittedly -- present a combination of what I both expect and hope will occur this evening -- before we settle into a long March of half-baked movies awaiting the quality only May and beyond can bring.
And the winner is...?
Art Direction: Alice in Wonderland should win -- if The King's Speech takes it -- Christ, it might sweep.
Costume Design: Again, Alice in Wonderland -- again, if The King's Speech takes it -- Messiah, etc.
Makeup: The film only I saw on opening day -- The Wolfman.
Sound Editing, Sound Effects Editing, Visual Effects: All 3 will go to Inception, though True Grit took some sound awards just last week and this is often the haven of the Western or the War pic. But this time it seems the dream agents have it locked away. Any non-Nolan wins in these categories are straight-up snubs.
Original Score: As I said before this is one of "McCue's Telling Categories" -- true, a Trent Reznor Academy Award win is something none of us would have ever foreseen. Yes, we bring him "closer to God" -- but, closer to gold? That question never seemed possible. The fact that he is nominated as the cleaned-up score-ist of a Fincher-flick, all these many years past Se7en seems the only way this could come to pass. However, he did win the Golden Globe. And that often proves the kiss of death for musicians: these awards rarely align and it's highly possible Mr. Reznor and and Co-Scorer Atticus Ross will lose -- despite their excellent work.
Hans Zimmer's score for Inception is inspired and groundbreaking. But that buzz seems long faded.
Much as he would be a deserving winner the race is two-way: The Social Network or King's Speech.
Yes, this award will once again give us viewers an insight into which way this thing's tipping -- but this brings me back to Reznor and his surprising score success. This isn't David Byrne scoring The Last Emperor. This isn't Isham. This isn't Knopfler. And Alexandre Desplat is not some new man on the scene. This is Mr. Desplat's fourth nomination, having scored all of Wes Anderson's pictures, Benjamin Button, The Queen, The Ghost Writer, The Golden Compass (whose music was its lone redeeming quality), let alone New Moon, Julie and Julia, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
But will any of that matter? Musicians nominated a zillion times often become musicians who are nominated another zillion times before winning -- just ask Randy Newman or his cousin Thomas Newman, who I think is perhaps the most under-rated under-acknowledged composer out there.
Yes, I just spent that amount of time talking about score -- the fact is, it's a category I love and it's far more essential to the overall film than people credit. I leave it a telling toss-up with hopes of a Zimmer upset.
Original Song: Over the years this has become the most pathetic Oscar category as the movie industry seems to have lost all interest in throwing together "song scores" of significant, original, catchy -- or frankly just plan good songs. The category is basically dead -- which is remarkable considering how most record companies are controlled by the same conglomerates that own the studios. Much as I loved Annie Lennox' "Into the West," the fact of the matter is the last significant song to win was Eminem's "Lose Yourself."
Grasp at all the straws you like, but Hustle and Flow, The Motorcycle Diaries, are far cries from "Let the River Run," "Take My Breath Away," "Streets of Philadelphia" or "My Heart Will Go On." The studios have left this ship to small films like Once and Crazy Heart. Frankly, I do not understand why.
But the question is, who's winning this year -- out of the collection of songs few of us have heard. With the exception of the "Coming Home" from Country Strong, the other three nominees have all won. Newman for Monsters, Inc., Rahman for Slumdog, and Alan Menken has -- that's right -- 8 Oscars.
Folks are talking about Rahman taking it for 127 Hours -- but I think it's Randy Newman's second. "We Belong Together" is no "I Love to See You Smile" or "You Got A Friend In Me" ... but the TS3 love should spill over to its musical maestro.
Cinematography: I firmly think Roger Deakins finally gets his due for True Grit.
Editing: While The Social Network is the odds on favorite -- and I think it will pull it out -- Black Swan could be the upset here. Especially if The Swan also snags Cinematography.
Foreign Film: Though early buzz seems to think there is nothing like a Dane, I'd actually be surprised if Biutiful -- depressant of audiences the world over -- didn't bring Inarritu a golden boy. Oscar already likes him -- this may be a chance to trophy the man.
Documentary Feature: The Inside Job seems to have it -- much as Exit Through the Gift Shop would be a delight.
I'm not even going to pretend to know what's going on in the short categories.
And now the great big biggies...
I'm going out on a limb with a few of these. Go ahead and judge.
Original Screenplay: Christopher Nolan, Inception
Adapted Screenplay: Aaron Sorkin, The Social Network
Supporting Actor: While it looks like Christian Bale has it in the bag for Fighter -- I see a Geoffrey Rush upset as a true possibility -- particular if Harvey has this thing in the bag.
Supporting Actress: I see True Grit's little Hailee Steinfeld as the upset of the evening. Melissa Leo is in the prime position of having previously locked a lead actress nom for a small movie and carefully playing her cards into a stellar supporting role. And perhaps it's my Fighter blindspot combined with my love of a young lady taking home an Oscar -- I'm looking at you, Anna Paquin -- but I smell an upset.
Actor: Is there a question? That reminds me -- I should go buy some Prosecco or something.
Actress: Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right
Director: David Fincher, The Social Network
Picture: The King's Speech buzz has gone straight on through the roof seemingly having slain The Social Network despite all its early victories. It also softens the blow when both Sorkin and Fincher seemingly have it in the bag. But I still think this is a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR toss up and we're simply not going to know until the envelope opens.
The King's Speech? The Social Network? True Grit? -- yes, I'm that crazy.
I truly don't know.
My hope -- regardless of The King's majestic simplicity -- is The Net -- since a deserved Inception upset seems impossible.
We'll see in about 12 hours!
- Matthew J. McCue
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Adapted Screenplay: Soar, Sorkin, Soar.
For all its split categorizing - Drama and Comedy/Musical - so twice as many folks can go home a winner, the screenplay category is the only Golden Globe category that goes from unicameral to bi when it hits Oscartown. Everyone's in one mix at the HFPA. At the Oscars, not so. Thus, screenplay proves the only category where The Social Network and The King's Speech share a rare, "Reverse Golden Globe". While The King's Speech finds itself in what I hope is a true bout of fisticuffs against Christopher Nolan's masterwork, Inception -- The Social Network stands in the adapted category.
They're not head to head -- each could win.
While I have my doubts about Mr. Seidler snagging screenplay out from under Nolan or Cholodenko -- Mr. Sorkin seems a dead lock. Though Fincher's directing steers The Social Network roller coaster as smoothly as a shark slicing through a currentless sea -- the tracks for the ride were laid by Mr. "West Wing" himself.
I'll wonder for the rest of my days why Mr. Sorkin felt it necessary to use his Golden Globe acceptance speech to simultaneously disavow any criticism of Mark Zuckerberg -- as if that weren't the entire point of the film -- and announce to his daughter that smart girls have more fun. I watched his appearance on Oprah; I heard his explanation; I'm still confused.
But sliding right alongside my wonder shall be my marvel at Aaron Sorkin's crisp, flawless writing.
Forget whether there's an oddball line or a scene that could go. The Social Network is one of those rare cases where there damn well may not be a syllable out of place. From Rooney Mara's character indictment to Rashida Jones' vain "cheer-up" attempt -- this thing's moving as quick and tight as Glengarry Glen Ross, and as timely and witty as Network. It doesn't trump either of those puppies -- certainly not Mamet's stage play -- and you certainly can't trump Finch, Dunaway, Duvall, and Holden. But to mix these two into a drinkable cocktail that goes down smooth despite having some of the best barbs in years -- what else can you expect from Mr. "You Can't Handle The Truth!"
Adapted normally isn't this "in the bag." In hindsight, many of the wins seem perfectly logical -- but only once the film has taken picture. But just take a look at last year: Precious sure as hell didn't walk in there as the odds on favorite. Nor did The Departed, Return of the King, The Pianist, or Traffic -- and if you don't believe me on the last one, do yourself a favor and click on any Harry Potter film's credits: that award was supposed to go another way.
But this year, Sorkin's sitting pretty as a Coen boy -- and oddly enough, they're up against him for a sizable piece of writing. But it just doesn't look like this one is ultimately going Joel and Ethan's way -- they'll have to settle for the hundreds of millions True Grit's raking in -- far more than Social Network, I might add.
127 Hours and Winter's Bone need to rest happily in the fact that they have been nominated. Neither stands a chance. Mr. Beaufoy and Danny Boyle can continue to bask in the glow of their recent Slumdog sweep. Every single person involved with Winter's Bone should consider every bit of attention this tiny film has caught an absolute triumph. There's simply no way a multi-nominated night at the Kodak was how these folks saw this playing out. My hat is off.
And then there's Michael Arndt. Something tells me not to discount Mr. Arndt.
(Free drink to the humanoid who nails that reference).
Perhaps the slickest move I made this summer was sliding off my Real 3D glasses with one hand and sliding on my Wayfarers with the other: I was like a T-1000. I got right out of Murray Hill dignity in hand! Whether I maintained my dignity and how deeply I breathed trying to get oxygen back into my 'til then vice-gripped heart is frankly none of your business.
Arndt nailed Toy Story 3 absolutely remarkably. I've said it before and I shall say it again -- this ten picture nonsense cannot last. We will fall back to the five. When we fall back to the five, the animated pictures will be back out of the race and left to their separate category so actors can rest assured their faces will stay up there on the screen.
Pixar's consistent high-quality must scare the bejesus out of everyone -- but sooner or later, Hollywood's absolute fear and jealousy usually turn into standing ovations of praise. Whether it's waiting until 1993 to give Spielberg an Oscar -- never awarding Hitchcock -- or waiting 'til Return of the King -- Hollywood comes around.
Will they this time? Dubious seems the kindest Tim Gunn word I can use. But if not now, when?
Luckily, Arndt already has an Oscar for Little Miss Sunshine and TS3 is a lock for animated feature.
It's pretty tough to put happy former winners up against a man whose made the room a fortune in television series and what must be the most unpredicted residuals of all time from The American President -- can anyone believe how much play that thing gets?! Sorkin's a star -- A Few Good Men, Charlie Wilson's War -- and it's pretty tough to be a star writer for too long without an Oscar, unless of course you're a woman not named Jhabvala -- but that's an article for a different time.
Thus, I hope Michael Arndt kisses his original screenplay Oscar lightly on the head before limo-ing down Hollywood Boulevard. Stars align now and again -- just ask Julian Fellowes. But Sunday seems set for Sorkin.
- Matthew J. McCue
They're not head to head -- each could win.
While I have my doubts about Mr. Seidler snagging screenplay out from under Nolan or Cholodenko -- Mr. Sorkin seems a dead lock. Though Fincher's directing steers The Social Network roller coaster as smoothly as a shark slicing through a currentless sea -- the tracks for the ride were laid by Mr. "West Wing" himself.
I'll wonder for the rest of my days why Mr. Sorkin felt it necessary to use his Golden Globe acceptance speech to simultaneously disavow any criticism of Mark Zuckerberg -- as if that weren't the entire point of the film -- and announce to his daughter that smart girls have more fun. I watched his appearance on Oprah; I heard his explanation; I'm still confused.
But sliding right alongside my wonder shall be my marvel at Aaron Sorkin's crisp, flawless writing.
Forget whether there's an oddball line or a scene that could go. The Social Network is one of those rare cases where there damn well may not be a syllable out of place. From Rooney Mara's character indictment to Rashida Jones' vain "cheer-up" attempt -- this thing's moving as quick and tight as Glengarry Glen Ross, and as timely and witty as Network. It doesn't trump either of those puppies -- certainly not Mamet's stage play -- and you certainly can't trump Finch, Dunaway, Duvall, and Holden. But to mix these two into a drinkable cocktail that goes down smooth despite having some of the best barbs in years -- what else can you expect from Mr. "You Can't Handle The Truth!"
Adapted normally isn't this "in the bag." In hindsight, many of the wins seem perfectly logical -- but only once the film has taken picture. But just take a look at last year: Precious sure as hell didn't walk in there as the odds on favorite. Nor did The Departed, Return of the King, The Pianist, or Traffic -- and if you don't believe me on the last one, do yourself a favor and click on any Harry Potter film's credits: that award was supposed to go another way.
But this year, Sorkin's sitting pretty as a Coen boy -- and oddly enough, they're up against him for a sizable piece of writing. But it just doesn't look like this one is ultimately going Joel and Ethan's way -- they'll have to settle for the hundreds of millions True Grit's raking in -- far more than Social Network, I might add.
127 Hours and Winter's Bone need to rest happily in the fact that they have been nominated. Neither stands a chance. Mr. Beaufoy and Danny Boyle can continue to bask in the glow of their recent Slumdog sweep. Every single person involved with Winter's Bone should consider every bit of attention this tiny film has caught an absolute triumph. There's simply no way a multi-nominated night at the Kodak was how these folks saw this playing out. My hat is off.
And then there's Michael Arndt. Something tells me not to discount Mr. Arndt.
(Free drink to the humanoid who nails that reference).
Perhaps the slickest move I made this summer was sliding off my Real 3D glasses with one hand and sliding on my Wayfarers with the other: I was like a T-1000. I got right out of Murray Hill dignity in hand! Whether I maintained my dignity and how deeply I breathed trying to get oxygen back into my 'til then vice-gripped heart is frankly none of your business.
Arndt nailed Toy Story 3 absolutely remarkably. I've said it before and I shall say it again -- this ten picture nonsense cannot last. We will fall back to the five. When we fall back to the five, the animated pictures will be back out of the race and left to their separate category so actors can rest assured their faces will stay up there on the screen.
Pixar's consistent high-quality must scare the bejesus out of everyone -- but sooner or later, Hollywood's absolute fear and jealousy usually turn into standing ovations of praise. Whether it's waiting until 1993 to give Spielberg an Oscar -- never awarding Hitchcock -- or waiting 'til Return of the King -- Hollywood comes around.
Will they this time? Dubious seems the kindest Tim Gunn word I can use. But if not now, when?
Luckily, Arndt already has an Oscar for Little Miss Sunshine and TS3 is a lock for animated feature.
It's pretty tough to put happy former winners up against a man whose made the room a fortune in television series and what must be the most unpredicted residuals of all time from The American President -- can anyone believe how much play that thing gets?! Sorkin's a star -- A Few Good Men, Charlie Wilson's War -- and it's pretty tough to be a star writer for too long without an Oscar, unless of course you're a woman not named Jhabvala -- but that's an article for a different time.
Thus, I hope Michael Arndt kisses his original screenplay Oscar lightly on the head before limo-ing down Hollywood Boulevard. Stars align now and again -- just ask Julian Fellowes. But Sunday seems set for Sorkin.
- Matthew J. McCue
Monday, February 21, 2011
Animal Kingdom: Australia, what a blast!
"I been around a long time, sweetie." - Jackie Weaver
One of the recurring phenomena of the Academy Awards is a tip of the hat to one of the tiniest films of the year and an exceptional performance. Most of that hat-tipping seemed aimed at Winter's Bone -- the indie triumph of the year with picture, actress, supporting actor, and screenplay nominations. Somehow, that slew of high ranking noms bumps Winter's Bone from the title of "itsy bitsy with giant success" toward something a little more in the range of The Crying Game. The bars are a little less classy. The men a bit more masculine. The accents a bit more difficult to understand. But it's the film cinephiles saw -- or at least felt they had to see, knowing full well award season was coming.
And then there's Animal Kingdom and its supporting actress nominee Jackie Weaver. Her nomination could be written off by some as "that one they keep nominating" -- as if she somehow gained early critical acclaim and an elite level of movie buffs continually puts her name forth as a given. I even wondered this myself. I wondered it for the first hour of the movie.
Jackie Weaver is no Judi Dench. She's not playing Queen Elizabeth. Tom Stoppard isn't filling her mouth with words. So even an hour in, I got to wondering where's the Outback Steakhouse approved Grade A Angus beef? Would this turn out to be some Beatrice Straight Network performance where it all came down to one big scene of Jackie Weaver screaming through the visiting room glass, during the trial, or back at home once her boys were sent off to prison?
On the contrary.
What's so fascinating about Animal Kingdom -- which is not the easiest film to wade through and certainly takes its sweet meandering time to make it through a relatively contained story -- is that it explores each hunk of plot separately. There's a distinct set of characters and a clear chain of events that takes place between the start and finish of this little Aussie thriller, but that doesn't mean one automatically leads to the next or that the drug dealers and cops playing out this "call and response" crime-flick are always the exact same arrangement of blokes.
For some reels, you spend more time with the cop, the lawyer, this uncle, that uncle, your girlfriend's mom. You wander. And young Jay, the fulcrum of the plot, is not always the guide. The audience is privy to many vitally important scenes and slivers of information Jay finds out far too late -- or never at all. Thus, Jackie Weaver's emergence from the "Gimme a hug" matriarch who lingered in the background to the cold hearted nana who wants her grandson whacked was as surprising as it was thrilling.
The entire film changed when this mama bear stared through glass at her arrested sons -- one a cold hearted murderer, the other a sweeter blond who might not be able to hack it on the inside -- and made her decision. She did it all with one key line. She turned away from the cold calculating son who was asking all the right questions about the trial, bail, how to proceed, etc. Weaver turns to her quiet blond boy and poses a very simple question: "How you keepin', hon?" Like she was visiting him at the hospital, sleepaway camp, or boarding school. And like any mother who cares too much -- she sure as hell ain't leaving him there.
But unlike my mother who allowed me to leave the Montessori education system when I found it undesirable as a kindergardener, Jackie Weaver isn't simply requesting a transfer. She's putting out a hit on the boy who turned state's evidence -- her own grandson.
"We've got to do something about Jay. He's gotta go."
The way Jackie Weaver takes a hard look at the corner her family is in and calculates the best way to keep as many family members alive and landing on "Easy, we kill the youngest one!" is something we haven't seen before. Weaver plays the role with precision and with an air of constant calculation. It's impossible to tell where she'll land or what ultimate outcome will satisfy her -- regardless of her own orders!
Ms. Weaver's nomination is unquestionably deserved despite its possibly having blocked or knocked Ms. Kunis out of the game. A Weaver win is doubtful. But expect to see this Aussie in many a film to come.
- Matthew J. McCue
One of the recurring phenomena of the Academy Awards is a tip of the hat to one of the tiniest films of the year and an exceptional performance. Most of that hat-tipping seemed aimed at Winter's Bone -- the indie triumph of the year with picture, actress, supporting actor, and screenplay nominations. Somehow, that slew of high ranking noms bumps Winter's Bone from the title of "itsy bitsy with giant success" toward something a little more in the range of The Crying Game. The bars are a little less classy. The men a bit more masculine. The accents a bit more difficult to understand. But it's the film cinephiles saw -- or at least felt they had to see, knowing full well award season was coming.
And then there's Animal Kingdom and its supporting actress nominee Jackie Weaver. Her nomination could be written off by some as "that one they keep nominating" -- as if she somehow gained early critical acclaim and an elite level of movie buffs continually puts her name forth as a given. I even wondered this myself. I wondered it for the first hour of the movie.
Jackie Weaver is no Judi Dench. She's not playing Queen Elizabeth. Tom Stoppard isn't filling her mouth with words. So even an hour in, I got to wondering where's the Outback Steakhouse approved Grade A Angus beef? Would this turn out to be some Beatrice Straight Network performance where it all came down to one big scene of Jackie Weaver screaming through the visiting room glass, during the trial, or back at home once her boys were sent off to prison?
On the contrary.
What's so fascinating about Animal Kingdom -- which is not the easiest film to wade through and certainly takes its sweet meandering time to make it through a relatively contained story -- is that it explores each hunk of plot separately. There's a distinct set of characters and a clear chain of events that takes place between the start and finish of this little Aussie thriller, but that doesn't mean one automatically leads to the next or that the drug dealers and cops playing out this "call and response" crime-flick are always the exact same arrangement of blokes.
For some reels, you spend more time with the cop, the lawyer, this uncle, that uncle, your girlfriend's mom. You wander. And young Jay, the fulcrum of the plot, is not always the guide. The audience is privy to many vitally important scenes and slivers of information Jay finds out far too late -- or never at all. Thus, Jackie Weaver's emergence from the "Gimme a hug" matriarch who lingered in the background to the cold hearted nana who wants her grandson whacked was as surprising as it was thrilling.
The entire film changed when this mama bear stared through glass at her arrested sons -- one a cold hearted murderer, the other a sweeter blond who might not be able to hack it on the inside -- and made her decision. She did it all with one key line. She turned away from the cold calculating son who was asking all the right questions about the trial, bail, how to proceed, etc. Weaver turns to her quiet blond boy and poses a very simple question: "How you keepin', hon?" Like she was visiting him at the hospital, sleepaway camp, or boarding school. And like any mother who cares too much -- she sure as hell ain't leaving him there.
But unlike my mother who allowed me to leave the Montessori education system when I found it undesirable as a kindergardener, Jackie Weaver isn't simply requesting a transfer. She's putting out a hit on the boy who turned state's evidence -- her own grandson.
"We've got to do something about Jay. He's gotta go."
The way Jackie Weaver takes a hard look at the corner her family is in and calculates the best way to keep as many family members alive and landing on "Easy, we kill the youngest one!" is something we haven't seen before. Weaver plays the role with precision and with an air of constant calculation. It's impossible to tell where she'll land or what ultimate outcome will satisfy her -- regardless of her own orders!
Ms. Weaver's nomination is unquestionably deserved despite its possibly having blocked or knocked Ms. Kunis out of the game. A Weaver win is doubtful. But expect to see this Aussie in many a film to come.
- Matthew J. McCue
Friday, February 18, 2011
When Picture and Director Split: An Oscar Divided Often Stands
The Graduate won director for Mike Nichols. But picture went to In the Heat of the Night. The Godfather obviously won picture -- but many forget Bob Fosse took director for Cabaret. Then there was a streak of Picture and Director going hand in hand. Right through the entire 70s where American Auteurs seemed at their peak. Every one of those "lunatics running the asylum" took home picture and director.
The next split -- which will obviously get its own paragraph -- was in 1981 when Warren Beatty (ahem) won director and picture went to (the absolutely not boring in the least) Chariots of Fire.
And we seemed to be back in a land of picture and director alignment. But there have been notable splits since -- with increasing frequency.
1989 - Driving Miss Daisy takes picture, Oliver Stone takes director for Born on the Fourth of July.
1998 - Shakespeare in Love shockingly takes picture away from director winner Steven Spielberg
2000 - Ridley Scott's Gladiator wins, but the seasoned Brit remains Oscar-less when Soderbergh wins director for Traffic.
2002 - Chicago is all the rage, but Martin Scorsese isn't the Rob Marshall upset, it's Mr. Exile himself, Roman Polanski who takes the cake for The Pianist.
2006 - Ang Lee's director win for Brokeback Mountain didn't mean there would be a gay best picture, certainly not when there's a Hollywood ensemble piece like Crash in the mix. And it seems Focus can get you a script or directing Oscar. I have much love for this mini-major. But delivering picture seems a game their not willing to play.
And here we are -- Award Year 2010 -- with the King nipping at The Network's heels. So far, no one has called Fincher's directing victory into question. His success seems completely inevitable. He's the Eastwood, he's the Spielberg, he's the Ang Lee in this scenario.
The Social Network's grip on best picture seems to have grown shaky -- at least in the trades and among those of us who like to walk into the 4 hour Oscar telecast pretending something incredibly dramatic is going to happen -- and who walk out of the Oscar telecast completely pissed off when it does. Unless, of course, it's Roman Polanski winning over Gangs of New York -- my apologies to the genius that is Martin Scorsese but that film was a mess and the idea that Miramax would back the director of a flop film over their own director of the film that had a lock on picture made Rob Marshall's chances a non-issue and Polanski's win something that got the room on its feet -- at least the room I was in.
I might add -- this was also presented by Harrison Ford -- the Shakespeare in Lover himself! What gives, Mr. McBeal?!
Miramax is obviously todt, kaput, deadski. But Harvey is up to his old Oscar tricks -- mini-documentaries airing during the day about the joyous journey that is The King's Speech. And have you seen the ad with the blue-collar audience member -- that lunch-bucket Dem -- talking about how he never thought a movie about a king would speak to him, but boy was he wrong? The HW knows no shame. As well he shouldn't. It looks like he's pulling it off.
And yet as much as Messers Firth and Rush gush over director Tom Hooper, as much as Helena Bonham Carter talks about his guiding hand -- how vital it was to have him behind the camera, Hooper doesn't seem to have a Marshall's chance in hell.
Thus, the split question is not from the side Harvey would prefer. It's not "Will The King's Speech sweep?" The question is: will voters vote for King's Speech after having voted for David Fincher?
The odds of split seem pretty dang good, though, don't they?
I'm hoping for a Fincher hold -- and I think that hope is a safe bet.
Frankly, if there's a different film to take it, we know I want it to be Inception -- at this point it seems as out there as my (partially) genuine belief (read: "psychotic break") that The Piano could best Schindler's List.
- Matthew J. McCue
The next split -- which will obviously get its own paragraph -- was in 1981 when Warren Beatty (ahem) won director and picture went to (the absolutely not boring in the least) Chariots of Fire.
And we seemed to be back in a land of picture and director alignment. But there have been notable splits since -- with increasing frequency.
1989 - Driving Miss Daisy takes picture, Oliver Stone takes director for Born on the Fourth of July.
1998 - Shakespeare in Love shockingly takes picture away from director winner Steven Spielberg
2000 - Ridley Scott's Gladiator wins, but the seasoned Brit remains Oscar-less when Soderbergh wins director for Traffic.
2002 - Chicago is all the rage, but Martin Scorsese isn't the Rob Marshall upset, it's Mr. Exile himself, Roman Polanski who takes the cake for The Pianist.
2006 - Ang Lee's director win for Brokeback Mountain didn't mean there would be a gay best picture, certainly not when there's a Hollywood ensemble piece like Crash in the mix. And it seems Focus can get you a script or directing Oscar. I have much love for this mini-major. But delivering picture seems a game their not willing to play.
And here we are -- Award Year 2010 -- with the King nipping at The Network's heels. So far, no one has called Fincher's directing victory into question. His success seems completely inevitable. He's the Eastwood, he's the Spielberg, he's the Ang Lee in this scenario.
The Social Network's grip on best picture seems to have grown shaky -- at least in the trades and among those of us who like to walk into the 4 hour Oscar telecast pretending something incredibly dramatic is going to happen -- and who walk out of the Oscar telecast completely pissed off when it does. Unless, of course, it's Roman Polanski winning over Gangs of New York -- my apologies to the genius that is Martin Scorsese but that film was a mess and the idea that Miramax would back the director of a flop film over their own director of the film that had a lock on picture made Rob Marshall's chances a non-issue and Polanski's win something that got the room on its feet -- at least the room I was in.
I might add -- this was also presented by Harrison Ford -- the Shakespeare in Lover himself! What gives, Mr. McBeal?!
Miramax is obviously todt, kaput, deadski. But Harvey is up to his old Oscar tricks -- mini-documentaries airing during the day about the joyous journey that is The King's Speech. And have you seen the ad with the blue-collar audience member -- that lunch-bucket Dem -- talking about how he never thought a movie about a king would speak to him, but boy was he wrong? The HW knows no shame. As well he shouldn't. It looks like he's pulling it off.
And yet as much as Messers Firth and Rush gush over director Tom Hooper, as much as Helena Bonham Carter talks about his guiding hand -- how vital it was to have him behind the camera, Hooper doesn't seem to have a Marshall's chance in hell.
Thus, the split question is not from the side Harvey would prefer. It's not "Will The King's Speech sweep?" The question is: will voters vote for King's Speech after having voted for David Fincher?
The odds of split seem pretty dang good, though, don't they?
I'm hoping for a Fincher hold -- and I think that hope is a safe bet.
Frankly, if there's a different film to take it, we know I want it to be Inception -- at this point it seems as out there as my (partially) genuine belief (read: "psychotic break") that The Piano could best Schindler's List.
- Matthew J. McCue
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Original Screenplay: The Most Coveted Oscar
A Brief Lesson in Coveting from Dr. Hannibal Lecter:
Dr. Lecter: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
Clarice: He kills women...
Dr. Lecter: No. That is incidental. What is the first and principal thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
Clarice: Anger, um, social acceptance, and, huh, sexual frustrations, sir...
Dr. Lecter: No! He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now.
Clarice: No. We just...
Dr. Lecter: No. We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?
Matthew: Yes! Like the Original Screenplay Oscar! Oh how I covet it! And we all know I watched Oscars Greatest Moments nearly every day! What fond memories!
Dr. Lecter: Memory is all I have, Matthew.
Clarice: Sir, this is an official FBI investigation.
Matthew: Oh please. You're just a trainee.
Dr. Lecter: Jack Crawford sent a trainee to me?
Matthew: Truth.
Clarice: Sir, will you please exit the area, this is an adapted screenplay.
Matthew: I'm going, I'm going... you well scrubbed rube.
Who will take Original Screenplay?
And the nominees are...
Another Year
The Fighter
Inception
The Kids Are All Right
The King's Speech
I shan't even try to thinly veil the fact that I think this award belongs -- hands down -- to Christopher Nolan for Inception. As the category is "Original Screenplay" one (meaning I) often hopes the Academy voters will take the time to recognize the most exceptionally thought out screenplay written directly for the screen.
Often, the original screenplay Oscar is given to the smaller film that will not win picture. Picture winners are from predominantly adapted screenplays -- or adapted screenplays masquerading as original work -- such as The Hurt Locker -- an excellent script written by a journalist embedded with bomb squads in the middle east that Mark Boal freely admits is a rearrangements of actual events. No, they were not published or produced in another fashion and that's what the distinction is. But we can see where I'm coming from.
Otherwise -- looking over the past 10 years of pictures...
Gladiator while original lost screenplay to Almost Famous which won nothing else.
A Beautiful Mind - adapted.
Chicago - adapted.
Return of the King - adapted.
Million Dollar Baby - adapted.
Crash - original and perhaps the most disturbing win of the past 20 years despite Mr. Haggis talents as a writer and subject of great New Yorker articles.
The Departed - adapted.
No Country For Old Men - adapted.
Slumdog Millionaire - adapted.
Hurt Locker - original script based on reality.
Original Screenplay has remained the home of the wildly talented and the otherwise overlooked masters, particularly these past 20 years. Neil Jordan, Cameron Crowe, Sofia Coppola, Quentin Tarantino, Jane Campion, Charlie Kaufman, Pedro Almodovar -- and the list goes on.
It is also where some great films have gotten their nod: Fargo, Gosford Park, Little Miss Sunshine, Juno, Almost Famous (why not mention it twice?), The Usual Suspects, Milk.
So here we find ourselves in a year where a master who is the screenplay nominee equivalent of Randy Newman -- Mr. Mike Leigh -- is yet again nominated. Though none of his actors received a nod and the film didn't click with crowds like his pictures from the past Secrets and Lies, Topsy Turvy, Vera Drake. This just doesn't seem like the year Mr. Leigh will win. He'll either finally make a clean sweep or be handed an honorary award soon.
The Fighter looks like it is going to take both supporting statuettes despite fingers (nationwide) being crossed hoping for other victors. No one is talking about The Fighter's writing in the slightest. Sure, they weren't talking about the writing of The Departed that much either -- but that's because Scorsese gets full credit for everything he does. The Departed actually is fantastic and deserved its adapted script award. It also pulled off what history will deem a sweep of the major awards -- though in the midst of that evening it seemed like a good deal of the trophies were up for grabs. The Fighter is out.
And then there were three!
Is it the small indie that tells the touching story of a lesbian couple, their children, and the sperm donor that shook their happy home. It is, after all, written by a seasoned indie veteran. With Black Swan's lack of script nom, will this be the picture of ladies that takes home an Oscar?
Is it the script that moves so crisply across the tongues of top shelf Aussie and British actors in the film that seems to be poised to snag The Social Network's picture win?
Or has the absolute snub of Christopher Nolan's directing prowess landed him in a position where some weirdo Oscar karma will hand this wildly respected director with a script award -- much like Francis Ford Coppola (who didn't win director until Godfather II, but already had two script trophies in the bag), The Coen Brothers (who waited a decade to win director) and Oliver Stone (who bagged a script award eight years before a director win). Is screenplay where Inception gets the Nolan his deserved industry recognition?
Lest we forget -- the very reason this entire 10 best picture nonsense came to pass was because folks were particularly upset about the fact that The Dark Knight not only went without a best picture nomination but that the Oscars had become a place where films like Knight were simply un-nominate-able. Nolan was also a previous odds on favorite for his first film - Memento. Had he won screenplay then a win now would seem less possible -- especially since, much as it pains me, Inception has no chance at picture.
But the world created! The rules constructed! The moments selected to weave such an intricate tapestry of storytelling -- without a play, novel, or graphic novel as its basis -- is simply remarkable.
In a just world, Nolan wins. The writing awards are often just, rarely snubbing the gifted more than once. In fact, the only person besides Nolan who seems monumentally screwed in this new generation of film making is Paul Thomas Anderson. Yes, Wes Anderson has delivered some gems, as well. But there has been meandering. PTA's originality with Boogie Nights and Magnolia followed by the screenplay he bloomed out of a tiny sliver of an Upton Sinclair story is to be reckoned with. PTA remains the only major film maker to sit down in the midst of our mad present and write a story about how oil and religion will both "fuel" and ruin the United States. Yet he waits for recognition.
Nolan is in the same boat. His is a different world of grandiose epics where a bullet wound springs a man to life and where the labyrinth of the mind -- realistic or not -- is more vital than the clash of grand personas -- he saves that for the Batman pictures.
Can the dream world snuff the King and the indie with a heart? I'll go right out on a limb and say, "Yes."
- Matthew J. McCue
Dr. Lecter: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
Clarice: He kills women...
Dr. Lecter: No. That is incidental. What is the first and principal thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
Clarice: Anger, um, social acceptance, and, huh, sexual frustrations, sir...
Dr. Lecter: No! He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now.
Clarice: No. We just...
Dr. Lecter: No. We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?
Matthew: Yes! Like the Original Screenplay Oscar! Oh how I covet it! And we all know I watched Oscars Greatest Moments nearly every day! What fond memories!
Dr. Lecter: Memory is all I have, Matthew.
Clarice: Sir, this is an official FBI investigation.
Matthew: Oh please. You're just a trainee.
Dr. Lecter: Jack Crawford sent a trainee to me?
Matthew: Truth.
Clarice: Sir, will you please exit the area, this is an adapted screenplay.
Matthew: I'm going, I'm going... you well scrubbed rube.
Who will take Original Screenplay?
And the nominees are...
Another Year
The Fighter
Inception
The Kids Are All Right
The King's Speech
I shan't even try to thinly veil the fact that I think this award belongs -- hands down -- to Christopher Nolan for Inception. As the category is "Original Screenplay" one (meaning I) often hopes the Academy voters will take the time to recognize the most exceptionally thought out screenplay written directly for the screen.
Often, the original screenplay Oscar is given to the smaller film that will not win picture. Picture winners are from predominantly adapted screenplays -- or adapted screenplays masquerading as original work -- such as The Hurt Locker -- an excellent script written by a journalist embedded with bomb squads in the middle east that Mark Boal freely admits is a rearrangements of actual events. No, they were not published or produced in another fashion and that's what the distinction is. But we can see where I'm coming from.
Otherwise -- looking over the past 10 years of pictures...
Gladiator while original lost screenplay to Almost Famous which won nothing else.
A Beautiful Mind - adapted.
Chicago - adapted.
Return of the King - adapted.
Million Dollar Baby - adapted.
Crash - original and perhaps the most disturbing win of the past 20 years despite Mr. Haggis talents as a writer and subject of great New Yorker articles.
The Departed - adapted.
No Country For Old Men - adapted.
Slumdog Millionaire - adapted.
Hurt Locker - original script based on reality.
Original Screenplay has remained the home of the wildly talented and the otherwise overlooked masters, particularly these past 20 years. Neil Jordan, Cameron Crowe, Sofia Coppola, Quentin Tarantino, Jane Campion, Charlie Kaufman, Pedro Almodovar -- and the list goes on.
It is also where some great films have gotten their nod: Fargo, Gosford Park, Little Miss Sunshine, Juno, Almost Famous (why not mention it twice?), The Usual Suspects, Milk.
So here we find ourselves in a year where a master who is the screenplay nominee equivalent of Randy Newman -- Mr. Mike Leigh -- is yet again nominated. Though none of his actors received a nod and the film didn't click with crowds like his pictures from the past Secrets and Lies, Topsy Turvy, Vera Drake. This just doesn't seem like the year Mr. Leigh will win. He'll either finally make a clean sweep or be handed an honorary award soon.
The Fighter looks like it is going to take both supporting statuettes despite fingers (nationwide) being crossed hoping for other victors. No one is talking about The Fighter's writing in the slightest. Sure, they weren't talking about the writing of The Departed that much either -- but that's because Scorsese gets full credit for everything he does. The Departed actually is fantastic and deserved its adapted script award. It also pulled off what history will deem a sweep of the major awards -- though in the midst of that evening it seemed like a good deal of the trophies were up for grabs. The Fighter is out.
And then there were three!
Is it the small indie that tells the touching story of a lesbian couple, their children, and the sperm donor that shook their happy home. It is, after all, written by a seasoned indie veteran. With Black Swan's lack of script nom, will this be the picture of ladies that takes home an Oscar?
Is it the script that moves so crisply across the tongues of top shelf Aussie and British actors in the film that seems to be poised to snag The Social Network's picture win?
Or has the absolute snub of Christopher Nolan's directing prowess landed him in a position where some weirdo Oscar karma will hand this wildly respected director with a script award -- much like Francis Ford Coppola (who didn't win director until Godfather II, but already had two script trophies in the bag), The Coen Brothers (who waited a decade to win director) and Oliver Stone (who bagged a script award eight years before a director win). Is screenplay where Inception gets the Nolan his deserved industry recognition?
Lest we forget -- the very reason this entire 10 best picture nonsense came to pass was because folks were particularly upset about the fact that The Dark Knight not only went without a best picture nomination but that the Oscars had become a place where films like Knight were simply un-nominate-able. Nolan was also a previous odds on favorite for his first film - Memento. Had he won screenplay then a win now would seem less possible -- especially since, much as it pains me, Inception has no chance at picture.
But the world created! The rules constructed! The moments selected to weave such an intricate tapestry of storytelling -- without a play, novel, or graphic novel as its basis -- is simply remarkable.
In a just world, Nolan wins. The writing awards are often just, rarely snubbing the gifted more than once. In fact, the only person besides Nolan who seems monumentally screwed in this new generation of film making is Paul Thomas Anderson. Yes, Wes Anderson has delivered some gems, as well. But there has been meandering. PTA's originality with Boogie Nights and Magnolia followed by the screenplay he bloomed out of a tiny sliver of an Upton Sinclair story is to be reckoned with. PTA remains the only major film maker to sit down in the midst of our mad present and write a story about how oil and religion will both "fuel" and ruin the United States. Yet he waits for recognition.
Nolan is in the same boat. His is a different world of grandiose epics where a bullet wound springs a man to life and where the labyrinth of the mind -- realistic or not -- is more vital than the clash of grand personas -- he saves that for the Batman pictures.
Can the dream world snuff the King and the indie with a heart? I'll go right out on a limb and say, "Yes."
- Matthew J. McCue
Thursday, February 10, 2011
How the early awards will show Oscar's hand.
As long as those in charge of the Oscar telecast don't do something astronomically stupid and decide to distribute the awards in some weirdo fashion where they lump certain categories together and suddenly we're stuck in some (much as I love him) Bill Condon relaunch of the greatest show on earth, odds are that the early awards of the evening may well tip Oscars hand and show us all where Best Picture -- and a slew of other awards are headed.
Since The King's Speech victory at SAG and since The Coen Brothers' True Grit has entered the race in a game-changing fashion, it's made many skeptical as to whether David Fincher's The Social Network will prevail. But we might not have to wait until the end of the night to find out.
Traditionally, the Oscars either start with one of the supporting actor categories or with Art Direction.
I can remember to this day how Schindler's List took Art Direction right off the bat, leaving many deserving period pieces in its wake, and signaling to the folks at home, that we were going to hear a lot of sad violin music as tuxedoed gents made their way to the podium over and over.
As I mentioned -- your only other option -- unless these knuckleheads mess with tradition -- is a supporting category.
So let's take a look at this thing: Art Direction sports The King's Speech, not The Social Network -- you're not very well going to nominate someone for picking out the right student apartment, bike room, or conference table -- so this is by no means a King's Speech triumph. However, the other pictures in the category: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Inception, Alice in Wonderland, and True Grit. If the King's Speech nabs this award right off the bat -- the show could be said and done. As much as there was CGI up the wazoo, Harry, Alice, and Inception (my personal fave) were replete with art direction and set design. If True Grit takes it -- well, well, we may have a three-way race.
But let's say they start with either of the supporting categories -- both of which seem deadlocks for The Fighter. If either of those trophies goes any direction but Leo Bale-ville -- we once again have a horse race on our hands.
At the beginning of the year it was my assumption that Helena Bonham Carter was finally going to get her Oscar, not simply for playing the Queen Mum so dang well, but because she also made a Harry Potter movie and played The Queen of Hearts in her hubby's Alice. Yes, her King's Speech role is smaller and may not be the crowning achievement (that's right, I said it!) of her career -- but it's an excellent role in what's basically a three-hander. However, I have to admit that the best female performance of the year -- except for my dear sweet Annette -- is Hailee Steinfeld. She could damn well win that award, once again announcing a three-way race. A Melissa Leo win tells us nothing about the evening.
Bale winning also tells us nothing. Should he lose to Geoffrey Rush -- it may be as telling as an art direction win. Harvey got lots of people oscars for Shakespeare in Love. Somehow he didn't get a nomination for Joseph Fiennes. Geoffrey Rush -- my favorite part of the film -- lost to James Coburn in one of those -- what are you going to do, he's old -- situations. If Harvey's clout is able to land Mr. Rush a deserved supporting Oscar in a season of uninterrupted Bale wins -- Oscar may be for England!
I won't waste your time going through every damn category and explaining how they will tell all. But let me give a quick shot of the key categories to keep an eye on:
Cinematography
Costume
Editing
Score
If King's Speech nabs Art Direction and any of the above. Mr. Fincher may walk away the very happy winning director whose film didn't take the prize.
It seems like this may finally be the year Oscar awards Roger Deakins for the zillion films he has made look marvelous for the Coens. Westerns are often a place to right cinematography wrongs. And they're also a place where a victory is not a picture indicator -- just ask John Toll.
Score -- for some reason in my little Oscar gut, Edward G. Robinson "little man" kind of way -- is the tell-all for me. Maybe it's because I actually sit home listening to Kundun on a regular basis. Maybe it's because I wander the city listening to the score from The Hours just to give my day a greater sense of immediacy. Maybe it's because I blast Scent of a Woman just to make cleaning my kitchen feel more triumphant. And I know editing rarely splits with picture -- but it may this year -- particularly because The Swan doesn't stand a chance at picture (famous last words). But the Alexandre Desplat/Trent Reznor head to head -- which will be a mid-show award -- may well tell us all the ending of the tale should Inception take art direction and the Fighter folk hold their footing.
God bless this damn show.
- Matthew J. McCue
Since The King's Speech victory at SAG and since The Coen Brothers' True Grit has entered the race in a game-changing fashion, it's made many skeptical as to whether David Fincher's The Social Network will prevail. But we might not have to wait until the end of the night to find out.
Traditionally, the Oscars either start with one of the supporting actor categories or with Art Direction.
I can remember to this day how Schindler's List took Art Direction right off the bat, leaving many deserving period pieces in its wake, and signaling to the folks at home, that we were going to hear a lot of sad violin music as tuxedoed gents made their way to the podium over and over.
As I mentioned -- your only other option -- unless these knuckleheads mess with tradition -- is a supporting category.
So let's take a look at this thing: Art Direction sports The King's Speech, not The Social Network -- you're not very well going to nominate someone for picking out the right student apartment, bike room, or conference table -- so this is by no means a King's Speech triumph. However, the other pictures in the category: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Inception, Alice in Wonderland, and True Grit. If the King's Speech nabs this award right off the bat -- the show could be said and done. As much as there was CGI up the wazoo, Harry, Alice, and Inception (my personal fave) were replete with art direction and set design. If True Grit takes it -- well, well, we may have a three-way race.
But let's say they start with either of the supporting categories -- both of which seem deadlocks for The Fighter. If either of those trophies goes any direction but Leo Bale-ville -- we once again have a horse race on our hands.
At the beginning of the year it was my assumption that Helena Bonham Carter was finally going to get her Oscar, not simply for playing the Queen Mum so dang well, but because she also made a Harry Potter movie and played The Queen of Hearts in her hubby's Alice. Yes, her King's Speech role is smaller and may not be the crowning achievement (that's right, I said it!) of her career -- but it's an excellent role in what's basically a three-hander. However, I have to admit that the best female performance of the year -- except for my dear sweet Annette -- is Hailee Steinfeld. She could damn well win that award, once again announcing a three-way race. A Melissa Leo win tells us nothing about the evening.
Bale winning also tells us nothing. Should he lose to Geoffrey Rush -- it may be as telling as an art direction win. Harvey got lots of people oscars for Shakespeare in Love. Somehow he didn't get a nomination for Joseph Fiennes. Geoffrey Rush -- my favorite part of the film -- lost to James Coburn in one of those -- what are you going to do, he's old -- situations. If Harvey's clout is able to land Mr. Rush a deserved supporting Oscar in a season of uninterrupted Bale wins -- Oscar may be for England!
I won't waste your time going through every damn category and explaining how they will tell all. But let me give a quick shot of the key categories to keep an eye on:
Cinematography
Costume
Editing
Score
If King's Speech nabs Art Direction and any of the above. Mr. Fincher may walk away the very happy winning director whose film didn't take the prize.
It seems like this may finally be the year Oscar awards Roger Deakins for the zillion films he has made look marvelous for the Coens. Westerns are often a place to right cinematography wrongs. And they're also a place where a victory is not a picture indicator -- just ask John Toll.
Score -- for some reason in my little Oscar gut, Edward G. Robinson "little man" kind of way -- is the tell-all for me. Maybe it's because I actually sit home listening to Kundun on a regular basis. Maybe it's because I wander the city listening to the score from The Hours just to give my day a greater sense of immediacy. Maybe it's because I blast Scent of a Woman just to make cleaning my kitchen feel more triumphant. And I know editing rarely splits with picture -- but it may this year -- particularly because The Swan doesn't stand a chance at picture (famous last words). But the Alexandre Desplat/Trent Reznor head to head -- which will be a mid-show award -- may well tell us all the ending of the tale should Inception take art direction and the Fighter folk hold their footing.
God bless this damn show.
- Matthew J. McCue
Sunday, February 6, 2011
127 Hours: The Last of the Ten
I'm not going to see 127 Hours ... ever. Thus there is not much for me to say in a write up.
I love James Franco. I do. I'm all for his absolutely insane amount of random jobs and I salute his insomnia -- welcome to the club, Jim. But I simply can't go to the movie where you cut your arm off with a pen-knife. I don't care how cool it's filmed. I don't care how life affirming it ends up being. It's a no.
In the Oscar Roundtable issue of Newsweek, Franco claimed to have no notable sex scenes in film -- no one said "What about the one in 127 Hours?" Thus, I'm even less inclined. If there's some amazing shot of Mr. Franco's beauty, some scene of romance, some flashback of sexy buried amongst the sea of images Franco wades through while pinned in the crease -- I'm sure I'll read about it or see it on Gawker, Pink Is the New Blog, Towleroad, or one of the other high-level journals I read regularly.
I wish you the best. I expect no wins. I shall go on pretending you don't exist. My knowledge of you will be limited to your Gerry-style trailer and your Lego re-enactment.
Full stop.
Now that I've covered the pictures it's time to bang through the categories.
- Matthew J. McCue
I love James Franco. I do. I'm all for his absolutely insane amount of random jobs and I salute his insomnia -- welcome to the club, Jim. But I simply can't go to the movie where you cut your arm off with a pen-knife. I don't care how cool it's filmed. I don't care how life affirming it ends up being. It's a no.
In the Oscar Roundtable issue of Newsweek, Franco claimed to have no notable sex scenes in film -- no one said "What about the one in 127 Hours?" Thus, I'm even less inclined. If there's some amazing shot of Mr. Franco's beauty, some scene of romance, some flashback of sexy buried amongst the sea of images Franco wades through while pinned in the crease -- I'm sure I'll read about it or see it on Gawker, Pink Is the New Blog, Towleroad, or one of the other high-level journals I read regularly.
I wish you the best. I expect no wins. I shall go on pretending you don't exist. My knowledge of you will be limited to your Gerry-style trailer and your Lego re-enactment.
Full stop.
Now that I've covered the pictures it's time to bang through the categories.
- Matthew J. McCue
The Fighter: Marky Mark's Turning Point Year
Before The Fighter ultimately made it to the theater -- where it has gained significant award momentum and plenty of outright wins -- there were questions whether any of us would ever get to see it. The start and stop woes of Mark Wahlberg's pet project had articles and rumors floating in the trades right up until the film's premiere about whether it would release -- and clobber the competition -- or whether it would waste away on a studio shelf. But it muscled through, and is now a best picture nominee in what's becoming an increasingly volatile Oscar race -- the blue-collar Massachusetts movie of the year, sidelining The Town (among the other things that sidelined The Town; I'll write separately about that). This new "ten" thing (which I loathe -- have I mentioned that?) is the equivalent of the Baskin Robbins of Best Pictures. There's a color wheel of flavors -- one of each gets a spot. There's only room for one film from Southie, Mr. Affleck, even if The Fighter didn't technically take place in Southie. I'll expand and expound later in a separate entry.
The Fighter: What can be said?
As previously mentioned in the Globe round-up, I climbed through the post-Christmas blizzard to see The Fighter: stalled trains, snow drifts, frozen stairs, cold ridden audience members with the inability to cover mouths or reign their various ill-noises into what I would call "inside ailment" levels. Keep it down, yo! We've all got different levels of sneezing -- you're at the movies! So this was the frame of mind I was in when seeing the picture. It's highly possible that the fact I wasn't "wowed" is due entirely to the cocktail of nonsense I had to swim through, merely to land in a spring-loaded Lincoln Square seat. But unlike The Beach -- another film I saw amidst a spectrum of annoyance -- I have not had the drive to head to the theaters and right what may be Fighter-wrongs.
My hat is obviously off to Mark Wahlberg and his brilliant decision to become the producer of both his own projects and other successful television series where he producer is his sole role -- "Entourage" and the new HBO award juggernaut "Boardwalk Empire." Like Lancaster and Beatty before him, Wahlberg's at the wheel. Whether or not he is going to be able to parlay his producing power into one where he nails down the right projects as he moves forward is the question. Having chose project like the underrated We Own The Night -- it's actually good, I swear -- and now The Fighter, it looks like Mark is going to chart his own path toward Oscar glory. Perhaps it will be as a producer -- as he is nominated this year -- but perhaps Dirk Diggler will finally get the gold.
Admittedly, I was surprised to see Wahlberg's name absent from least of actor nominees -- especially considering Amy Adams, Christian Bale, and Melissa Leo -- basically all the remaining cast members with actually defined characters -- were nominated. I wonder if it comes as any comfort to Mark that he wouldn't have stood a chance in the actor category anyway -- then again, this is an Oscar nomination we're talking about and it is Marky "Let me in the house!" Mark. I only hope he didn't behead a dog -- I'm sure he didn't.
Surprising too is the fact that Mark's Mickey Ward is about the only character in The Fighter to go through some kind of change and to have an actual character arc -- rather than a consistent loop of the exact same tricks from start to finish. He may ultimately make the same mistakes. He may have a consistent Achilles heel. But as Mickey Ward, the audience is given a chance to see a bit of the spirit that pulled the young Mark Wahlberg out of the streets of Southie and into traffic stopping Calvin Klein ads where Americans from coast to coast could "Feel the Vibrations!" This character has all the elements of a classic cinematic boxer -- blue collar, outmatched, local joke, falling in love, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, with the drama of his life coalescing right there in his corner of the ring. Mark played it perfectly.
Additionally, Amy Adams is the perfect antithesis of Adrian. She doesn't take crap from anybody, not the crazy band of sisters who wants to claw her eyes out, not the drug addict brother, not the enabling mother, not even the boxer himself -- the love of her life. She's the perfect match for the man who is desperate to succeed. How could he have done it without her? To slap some more praise onto the young Ms. Adams, one must point out the continued selection of varied characters and projects the wee miss has chosen over the years: Catch Me If You Can, Junebug, Enchanted, Doubt, Julie & Julia. There seems nothing this cute as a button can't do -- and she jumps in with both feet, wholeheartedly. With a couple of deft moves, this persistent supporting actress could well find herself the American Kate Winslet -- the constant nominee who finally finds herself with an awards year that has her name written all over it. This year, however, does not belong to her.
It seems -- by all accounts and previous ceremonies -- that the supporting actress Oscar belongs to Melissa Leo. Though she's been working for nearly thirty years in film and television, Ms. Leo has only received true award calibre recognition since her nominated work in Frozen River. Since then, Leo has been a firm member of the award contender projects -- such as this year's award misstep, Conviction and what looks like a lock for The Fighter. I detract nothing from Melissa Leo's performance -- which I think was fantastic. As an actress, she brought everything to the role that she could. This is a clearly defined woman, an enabling mother who may well sink her only promising son, the kind of lady many of us have come across and have left us worried about the fate of their children. My issue is that as mother Alice Ward, there isn't a great deal of variety to what is required of Melissa Leo. I suppose because the role is in the supporting category it is given more latitude and since the flaw is in the construction of the character -- one can't hold it against the performer. But it's just cigarette after cigarette, dumb decision after dumb decision, train-wreck after train-wreck. It grows tedious. If that's the point -- wonderful. Frankly, I just wish there had been another one.
Sadly, the same goes for Mr. Batman Bale who may well walk away with an Oscar if the Weinstein's can't throw Geoffrey Rush in his way. With Andrew Garfield and Matt Damon out of the way -- with The Town virtually limited to Jeremy Renner's nomination and with John Hawkes' nod seemingly a victory in itself -- this battle seems between two men. There has been a place in my heart for Christian Bale since Empire of the Sun. Obviously, Christian was in the hands of Steven Spielberg and spouting the words of Tom Stoppard -- an incredible survival story of a young British boy, separated from his parents, living through World War II in a prison camp in China. It is one of the greatest child performances of all time. More than twenty years later, Bale is still in the game, poised to win best supporting actor. But is this a nod to the significant movies he has been making lately or is this recognition for this specific performance? In The Fighter, the most significant element seems to be Christian Bale's weight-loss -- and frankly, didn't he lose a lot more for The Machinist? I seem in the vast minority and I am a Bale fan, but it seems such a one note performance. Bale seems capable of so much more than this role allowed him -- perhaps the Academy should wait to award him then.
Then there's David O. Russel -- the man at the helm. Russel has had a volatile career his most notable achievement in the press being a murky feud with George Clooney over Three Kings -- an excellent movie that also starred Wahlberg and proved itself to be a highly prescient film about American presence in the Middle East. But somehow, during the turn of the century, the rise of the Clooney star, and the in flux of a generation of hot new directors -- Russel got lost in the shuffle. It was completely bizarre and I still don't fully understand what went on there. I'm happy to see this director who arrived on the scene with the excellent Spanking the Monkey and Flirting with Disaster is now recognized with an Oscar nomination as director. That he is among the five rather than Christopher Nolan is a mind-blower to me -- but I begrudge him nothing. My question for both the director and the trio of writers of The Fighter is why the same notes were hit again and again in this tale of Mickey Ward. Was that the case? Is that the point of this story in a Scorsese way? Am I a studio flunky who wants more dramatic progression whether or not it's legitimate?
I accept my role as naysayer on this one. I'm a huge fan of all the parties involved and all their work. Perhaps on view two I'll be eating my words.
- Matthew J. McCue
The Fighter: What can be said?
As previously mentioned in the Globe round-up, I climbed through the post-Christmas blizzard to see The Fighter: stalled trains, snow drifts, frozen stairs, cold ridden audience members with the inability to cover mouths or reign their various ill-noises into what I would call "inside ailment" levels. Keep it down, yo! We've all got different levels of sneezing -- you're at the movies! So this was the frame of mind I was in when seeing the picture. It's highly possible that the fact I wasn't "wowed" is due entirely to the cocktail of nonsense I had to swim through, merely to land in a spring-loaded Lincoln Square seat. But unlike The Beach -- another film I saw amidst a spectrum of annoyance -- I have not had the drive to head to the theaters and right what may be Fighter-wrongs.
My hat is obviously off to Mark Wahlberg and his brilliant decision to become the producer of both his own projects and other successful television series where he producer is his sole role -- "Entourage" and the new HBO award juggernaut "Boardwalk Empire." Like Lancaster and Beatty before him, Wahlberg's at the wheel. Whether or not he is going to be able to parlay his producing power into one where he nails down the right projects as he moves forward is the question. Having chose project like the underrated We Own The Night -- it's actually good, I swear -- and now The Fighter, it looks like Mark is going to chart his own path toward Oscar glory. Perhaps it will be as a producer -- as he is nominated this year -- but perhaps Dirk Diggler will finally get the gold.
Admittedly, I was surprised to see Wahlberg's name absent from least of actor nominees -- especially considering Amy Adams, Christian Bale, and Melissa Leo -- basically all the remaining cast members with actually defined characters -- were nominated. I wonder if it comes as any comfort to Mark that he wouldn't have stood a chance in the actor category anyway -- then again, this is an Oscar nomination we're talking about and it is Marky "Let me in the house!" Mark. I only hope he didn't behead a dog -- I'm sure he didn't.
Surprising too is the fact that Mark's Mickey Ward is about the only character in The Fighter to go through some kind of change and to have an actual character arc -- rather than a consistent loop of the exact same tricks from start to finish. He may ultimately make the same mistakes. He may have a consistent Achilles heel. But as Mickey Ward, the audience is given a chance to see a bit of the spirit that pulled the young Mark Wahlberg out of the streets of Southie and into traffic stopping Calvin Klein ads where Americans from coast to coast could "Feel the Vibrations!" This character has all the elements of a classic cinematic boxer -- blue collar, outmatched, local joke, falling in love, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, with the drama of his life coalescing right there in his corner of the ring. Mark played it perfectly.
Additionally, Amy Adams is the perfect antithesis of Adrian. She doesn't take crap from anybody, not the crazy band of sisters who wants to claw her eyes out, not the drug addict brother, not the enabling mother, not even the boxer himself -- the love of her life. She's the perfect match for the man who is desperate to succeed. How could he have done it without her? To slap some more praise onto the young Ms. Adams, one must point out the continued selection of varied characters and projects the wee miss has chosen over the years: Catch Me If You Can, Junebug, Enchanted, Doubt, Julie & Julia. There seems nothing this cute as a button can't do -- and she jumps in with both feet, wholeheartedly. With a couple of deft moves, this persistent supporting actress could well find herself the American Kate Winslet -- the constant nominee who finally finds herself with an awards year that has her name written all over it. This year, however, does not belong to her.
It seems -- by all accounts and previous ceremonies -- that the supporting actress Oscar belongs to Melissa Leo. Though she's been working for nearly thirty years in film and television, Ms. Leo has only received true award calibre recognition since her nominated work in Frozen River. Since then, Leo has been a firm member of the award contender projects -- such as this year's award misstep, Conviction and what looks like a lock for The Fighter. I detract nothing from Melissa Leo's performance -- which I think was fantastic. As an actress, she brought everything to the role that she could. This is a clearly defined woman, an enabling mother who may well sink her only promising son, the kind of lady many of us have come across and have left us worried about the fate of their children. My issue is that as mother Alice Ward, there isn't a great deal of variety to what is required of Melissa Leo. I suppose because the role is in the supporting category it is given more latitude and since the flaw is in the construction of the character -- one can't hold it against the performer. But it's just cigarette after cigarette, dumb decision after dumb decision, train-wreck after train-wreck. It grows tedious. If that's the point -- wonderful. Frankly, I just wish there had been another one.
Sadly, the same goes for Mr. Batman Bale who may well walk away with an Oscar if the Weinstein's can't throw Geoffrey Rush in his way. With Andrew Garfield and Matt Damon out of the way -- with The Town virtually limited to Jeremy Renner's nomination and with John Hawkes' nod seemingly a victory in itself -- this battle seems between two men. There has been a place in my heart for Christian Bale since Empire of the Sun. Obviously, Christian was in the hands of Steven Spielberg and spouting the words of Tom Stoppard -- an incredible survival story of a young British boy, separated from his parents, living through World War II in a prison camp in China. It is one of the greatest child performances of all time. More than twenty years later, Bale is still in the game, poised to win best supporting actor. But is this a nod to the significant movies he has been making lately or is this recognition for this specific performance? In The Fighter, the most significant element seems to be Christian Bale's weight-loss -- and frankly, didn't he lose a lot more for The Machinist? I seem in the vast minority and I am a Bale fan, but it seems such a one note performance. Bale seems capable of so much more than this role allowed him -- perhaps the Academy should wait to award him then.
Then there's David O. Russel -- the man at the helm. Russel has had a volatile career his most notable achievement in the press being a murky feud with George Clooney over Three Kings -- an excellent movie that also starred Wahlberg and proved itself to be a highly prescient film about American presence in the Middle East. But somehow, during the turn of the century, the rise of the Clooney star, and the in flux of a generation of hot new directors -- Russel got lost in the shuffle. It was completely bizarre and I still don't fully understand what went on there. I'm happy to see this director who arrived on the scene with the excellent Spanking the Monkey and Flirting with Disaster is now recognized with an Oscar nomination as director. That he is among the five rather than Christopher Nolan is a mind-blower to me -- but I begrudge him nothing. My question for both the director and the trio of writers of The Fighter is why the same notes were hit again and again in this tale of Mickey Ward. Was that the case? Is that the point of this story in a Scorsese way? Am I a studio flunky who wants more dramatic progression whether or not it's legitimate?
I accept my role as naysayer on this one. I'm a huge fan of all the parties involved and all their work. Perhaps on view two I'll be eating my words.
- Matthew J. McCue
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The Kids Are All Right: The Adults Are Taking Credit
Lisa Cholodenko's exploration of intimate circles of life has been her area of expertise since High Art debuted more than a decade ago. Since then she's directed some stellar episodes of television and the wildly under-appreciated Laurel Canyon -- a perfect L.A. Story with shockingly under-recognized performances from Frances McDormand, Kate Beckinsale, Alessandro Nivola -- who still awaits his killer role -- and this years supporting actor front-runner, Christian Bale. If you haven't had the chance to see Laurel Canyon and are one of the many who've fallen for The Kids Are All Right -- it's a run don't walk. Queue it up, folks: you won't be disappointed.
Now here, in the land of ten, The Kids Are All Right has landed itself a best picture nomination, a best actress nomination -- my dear, sweet Annette -- supporting actor for Mark Ruffalo and screenplay for Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg -- who's Girl Next Door is a guilty-pleasure gem in its own right.
This great ensemble piece is a tribute to Ms. Cholodenko's consistency as an auteur who's stayed true to her '90s indie roots -- much like Nicole Holofcener, who should have received far more recognition this year for her feature Please Give. I've long had both these names tied in a sailor's knot of epic proportions. Their films are very particular. They have different muses. And the truth is, when you take a close look -- you can easily untie them -- they're nothing alike. But when you're me and your brain has decided -- much to your own chagrin -- that it simply will not keep the names straight: you're stuck. You just see "Common Female First Name - Complicated Last Name." Frankly, who doesn't fit under that heading. Lisa Cholodenko and Nicole Holofcener take it to entirely new realms. Perhaps now, I'll keep each in her respective corner -- I've been pretty dang good all year. Barely a slip up.
But there's a better reason to keep these female helmers in the same file: they flew right out of the '90s indie flash and flare of low budget, adult dramedies with true hearts and unquestionably genuine emotion -- and they've never compromised. Larger budgets never lured them away. Neither of these ladies hung up her indie spurs for a crack at Wonder Woman, Batgirl, or some tailor-made Oscar vehicle that would have launched their price-tags and the films' overall budgets into the stratosphere like so many of their male counterparts. They stuck to their product. Now, Lisa Cholodenko is getting the recognition she deserves.
This balanced little picture has nothing to do with whether gay marriage should be legalized. The question of a gay couple's right to adopt is not the issue. There is no previous generation, no Christian right, no activist anything breathing down its cast's neck. The world of this film simply exists: a happy lesbian couple with two well adjusted kids who've hit a threshold in their lives and would like some answers. Perfectly genuine. Perfectly justifiable. Perfectly human. Humbly original.
Now that we are in the throes of the award shuffle, the two performances to fall victim to the mayhem are decidedly Mark Ruffalo and Julianne Moore. Mr. Ruffalo's continued excellence since he caught the world's attention with You Can Count On Me is without compare. He has handily navigated through smaller and larger films without a hitch. He's taken would-be crummy romantic comedies like 13 Going on 30 and Just Like Heaven and given the leading male role just enough boost and charm to have audience members time and again defending these little gems to any negative naysayers in the lot. And he is on the short list of go-to supporting males for major directors throughout the industry whether it's for David Fincher in Zodiac or Martin Scorsese in Shutter Island.
And what can be said about Julianne Moore? The careful tightrope walk between top independent films of the '90s, the passion projects of their auteurs, and high-level studio prestige pieces has seemed an effortless cakewalk for Ms. Moore. She has delivered endlessly memorable work for Paul Thomas Anderson, sent the Dude to a good and thorough doctor, took a surprising bullet in Children of Men, and served as the crux of The Hours. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Far From Heaven, End of the Affair, Savage Grace --- "30 Rock!" Is it her consistency and repeated nominations that somehow gave her performance the backseat this year? Or was it that she was simply playing the ultimately more flawed of the duo? Whatever the case, she deserves more credit. The adult realm is more or less a three-way split. Franco and Hathaway should drag her up to the Oscar podium simply to yell one word: "Recognize."
Amazingly, however, the characters that were forgotten before the film even reached the theaters were the titular duo: the kids! Yes, they are indeed "all right." They're stellar! Josh Hutcherson as younger brother, Laser -- one can only assume he's destined for a future as a local anchorman -- did a gifted job of playing the lone boy in the house without a father. He was the perfect difficult kid who had a stack of questions in his back pocket -- whether or not he had the itch to hunt down the source for answers. He did a solid job in Bridge to Terabithia -- his continued talent here is no surprise. Then there is Mia Wasikowska -- who is damn near the highest grossing actress of the year between her turn in Kids and Alice in Wonderland. This little miss is the engine and impetus for the entire film. The high-pressured interrogator who simply wants to know the full picture and had no intention of causing a colossal mess is not an easy role to play. To play it with the genuine confusion of an average teen obviously takes the guiding hand and pen of a master like Lisa Cholodenko -- actually delivering the goods, however, is all Mia's work. In a year where so many nominations were handed out to young women, it's a surprise her name was never discussed.
Perhaps, the reason all the others were pushed aside was because of the way this film was immediately categorized -- whether she likes it or not -- as "that movie where Annette Bening is a lesbian."
Folks, I don't know where to begin with my dear Annette and the way she plunged into the role of the less-likable mother -- the stalwart -- the wine drinker -- the doctor. What can you say for the person who sees the snake in the garden and makes her pronouncement as loudly as she can? "Good call." "We should have listened." And yet she is willing to give this donor the benefit of the doubt so that her children can know their "father" and the questions can be answered. More than anyone, she's the guiltless victim of the entire situation, its ripple effects, and the participants' reactions. This seems to only be the case because she was the strongest to begin with and because doubt and "no" seem her kneejerk responses to every question that comes her way. Some could call this "difficult" or "selective." In The Kids Are All Right her reaction seems... well... "accurate."
One wonders who could have played the role besides Annette. One wonders which of the powerful women who may have been considered -- lest we forget, this is the lady who told Warren Beatty's Bugsy to go outside and "jerk himself a soda" -- could have played it with the deliberate level of dial-back required to nail this character like Annette did. Whether it's complaining about a near beer spill on an expensive sofa, navigating the fluctuating affections of younger lovers, toppling the founder of the Las Vegas strip, or telling a grifting John Cusack to "gang way," it seems Annette's Achilles heel has been her genius level of subtlety. Passionate as each of her performances proves, they are rife with an understatement that doesn't hook viewers and voters the way louder work and roles do -- and Annette has no intention of adding bells and whistles anytime soon. Thank heavens.
The playing field has changed wildly since Kids' summer release and it's difficult to tell whether Annette will finally triumph or Natalie will add yet another feather to her cap. Frankly, I don't think it's all said and done just yet. Whether or not a win is the case, I must, for the first time in my life take umbrage with Mr. Warren Beatty on the very grounds he pointed out during his Thalberg speech: during their near 20 years together Mr. Beatty made Annette unavailable four times so they could build a family. Here's hoping with family built and award nominations consistent, Annette will be gracing the silver screen again and again racking up enough trophies to beat the band. If not, I'm sure poolside cocktails with Warren, Jack, and her four kids is joy enough.
- Matthew J. McCue
Now here, in the land of ten, The Kids Are All Right has landed itself a best picture nomination, a best actress nomination -- my dear, sweet Annette -- supporting actor for Mark Ruffalo and screenplay for Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg -- who's Girl Next Door is a guilty-pleasure gem in its own right.
This great ensemble piece is a tribute to Ms. Cholodenko's consistency as an auteur who's stayed true to her '90s indie roots -- much like Nicole Holofcener, who should have received far more recognition this year for her feature Please Give. I've long had both these names tied in a sailor's knot of epic proportions. Their films are very particular. They have different muses. And the truth is, when you take a close look -- you can easily untie them -- they're nothing alike. But when you're me and your brain has decided -- much to your own chagrin -- that it simply will not keep the names straight: you're stuck. You just see "Common Female First Name - Complicated Last Name." Frankly, who doesn't fit under that heading. Lisa Cholodenko and Nicole Holofcener take it to entirely new realms. Perhaps now, I'll keep each in her respective corner -- I've been pretty dang good all year. Barely a slip up.
But there's a better reason to keep these female helmers in the same file: they flew right out of the '90s indie flash and flare of low budget, adult dramedies with true hearts and unquestionably genuine emotion -- and they've never compromised. Larger budgets never lured them away. Neither of these ladies hung up her indie spurs for a crack at Wonder Woman, Batgirl, or some tailor-made Oscar vehicle that would have launched their price-tags and the films' overall budgets into the stratosphere like so many of their male counterparts. They stuck to their product. Now, Lisa Cholodenko is getting the recognition she deserves.
This balanced little picture has nothing to do with whether gay marriage should be legalized. The question of a gay couple's right to adopt is not the issue. There is no previous generation, no Christian right, no activist anything breathing down its cast's neck. The world of this film simply exists: a happy lesbian couple with two well adjusted kids who've hit a threshold in their lives and would like some answers. Perfectly genuine. Perfectly justifiable. Perfectly human. Humbly original.
Now that we are in the throes of the award shuffle, the two performances to fall victim to the mayhem are decidedly Mark Ruffalo and Julianne Moore. Mr. Ruffalo's continued excellence since he caught the world's attention with You Can Count On Me is without compare. He has handily navigated through smaller and larger films without a hitch. He's taken would-be crummy romantic comedies like 13 Going on 30 and Just Like Heaven and given the leading male role just enough boost and charm to have audience members time and again defending these little gems to any negative naysayers in the lot. And he is on the short list of go-to supporting males for major directors throughout the industry whether it's for David Fincher in Zodiac or Martin Scorsese in Shutter Island.
And what can be said about Julianne Moore? The careful tightrope walk between top independent films of the '90s, the passion projects of their auteurs, and high-level studio prestige pieces has seemed an effortless cakewalk for Ms. Moore. She has delivered endlessly memorable work for Paul Thomas Anderson, sent the Dude to a good and thorough doctor, took a surprising bullet in Children of Men, and served as the crux of The Hours. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Far From Heaven, End of the Affair, Savage Grace --- "30 Rock!" Is it her consistency and repeated nominations that somehow gave her performance the backseat this year? Or was it that she was simply playing the ultimately more flawed of the duo? Whatever the case, she deserves more credit. The adult realm is more or less a three-way split. Franco and Hathaway should drag her up to the Oscar podium simply to yell one word: "Recognize."
Amazingly, however, the characters that were forgotten before the film even reached the theaters were the titular duo: the kids! Yes, they are indeed "all right." They're stellar! Josh Hutcherson as younger brother, Laser -- one can only assume he's destined for a future as a local anchorman -- did a gifted job of playing the lone boy in the house without a father. He was the perfect difficult kid who had a stack of questions in his back pocket -- whether or not he had the itch to hunt down the source for answers. He did a solid job in Bridge to Terabithia -- his continued talent here is no surprise. Then there is Mia Wasikowska -- who is damn near the highest grossing actress of the year between her turn in Kids and Alice in Wonderland. This little miss is the engine and impetus for the entire film. The high-pressured interrogator who simply wants to know the full picture and had no intention of causing a colossal mess is not an easy role to play. To play it with the genuine confusion of an average teen obviously takes the guiding hand and pen of a master like Lisa Cholodenko -- actually delivering the goods, however, is all Mia's work. In a year where so many nominations were handed out to young women, it's a surprise her name was never discussed.
Perhaps, the reason all the others were pushed aside was because of the way this film was immediately categorized -- whether she likes it or not -- as "that movie where Annette Bening is a lesbian."
Folks, I don't know where to begin with my dear Annette and the way she plunged into the role of the less-likable mother -- the stalwart -- the wine drinker -- the doctor. What can you say for the person who sees the snake in the garden and makes her pronouncement as loudly as she can? "Good call." "We should have listened." And yet she is willing to give this donor the benefit of the doubt so that her children can know their "father" and the questions can be answered. More than anyone, she's the guiltless victim of the entire situation, its ripple effects, and the participants' reactions. This seems to only be the case because she was the strongest to begin with and because doubt and "no" seem her kneejerk responses to every question that comes her way. Some could call this "difficult" or "selective." In The Kids Are All Right her reaction seems... well... "accurate."
One wonders who could have played the role besides Annette. One wonders which of the powerful women who may have been considered -- lest we forget, this is the lady who told Warren Beatty's Bugsy to go outside and "jerk himself a soda" -- could have played it with the deliberate level of dial-back required to nail this character like Annette did. Whether it's complaining about a near beer spill on an expensive sofa, navigating the fluctuating affections of younger lovers, toppling the founder of the Las Vegas strip, or telling a grifting John Cusack to "gang way," it seems Annette's Achilles heel has been her genius level of subtlety. Passionate as each of her performances proves, they are rife with an understatement that doesn't hook viewers and voters the way louder work and roles do -- and Annette has no intention of adding bells and whistles anytime soon. Thank heavens.
The playing field has changed wildly since Kids' summer release and it's difficult to tell whether Annette will finally triumph or Natalie will add yet another feather to her cap. Frankly, I don't think it's all said and done just yet. Whether or not a win is the case, I must, for the first time in my life take umbrage with Mr. Warren Beatty on the very grounds he pointed out during his Thalberg speech: during their near 20 years together Mr. Beatty made Annette unavailable four times so they could build a family. Here's hoping with family built and award nominations consistent, Annette will be gracing the silver screen again and again racking up enough trophies to beat the band. If not, I'm sure poolside cocktails with Warren, Jack, and her four kids is joy enough.
- Matthew J. McCue
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Winter's Bone: Amethica the Beautiful
The "ten slate" guarantee is that the year's indies will be nominated for best picture. Last year certainly had Precious and An Education. I'd even go so far as to say The Hurt Locker and District Nine fell into the indie realm despite their budgets and backers. Up in the Air, which I greatly enjoyed, seemed more of the "don't I look like an indie?" ilk normally reserved for Fox Searchlight -- this time it was Paramount.
This year, the "cozy" indie goes to The Kids Are All Right taking An Education's slot whereas The Winter's Bone takes the "egad!" Precious spot.
Winter's Bone is the disturbing would be FX/AMC series of Ozark meth-country where the cast of Deliverance has settled into a life of cabin having, rust car loving, squirrel eating ways. What better way to guide the audience through this cinematically neglected slice of Americana than with a plot about missing man, an overdue mortgage payment, and an older sister who just won't stand down -- perfectly played by Jennifer Lawrence.
While Nicole Kidman, Michelle Williams, Halle Berry, and Julianne Moore -- half pleased, half pissed -- wondered whether they would make it to the big dance, Jennifer Lawrence sat comfortably in the knowledge that she had an actress nomination in the bag. Our guide through the Methropolitan Museum got her nose bloodied more than once and seemed like she could lose her life at any moment -- or worse yet, a limb or digit! She comfortably carried this heavy film equivalent of August: Osage from start to finish, with nary a mis-step -- despite the carcasses, shell-casings, and strewn auto parts in her way.
Much like little Hailee Steinfeld, Ms. Lawrence has arrived. She's swooped in like a young, Monster-ous Charlize, without the ugly. Jennifer's Oscar chances seem impossible. She will have to rest comfortably with the trophies she's already amassed -- and a possible Independent Spirit Win -- not a bad year. It's a great kick-off to what will most certainly be an excellent career. Hats off, JL.
The other nominee who deserves a down-home salute is supporting actor John Hawkes. Nothing pleases me more than a career actor who finally gets his due at the Oscars. A win isn't necessary to cap off the work of a man like Hawkes -- partially because we know we'll see him in ten films, television series, and even on stage next year alone. Academy recognition is all that matters to a man like Hawkes -- a man whose consistent quality is that of David Straithairn or William H. Macy. The time may come. If it doesn't his staggering resume will be achievement enough.
Congrats to this off-beat indie and its broad success. With a picture nom, actress, supporting actor, and screenplay to boot, Winter's Bone is nothing to shake a stick at -- unless you want a methed out psycho to grab that stick from you, beat you to death, and chuck your body in the nearest ditch.
And when you get right down to it folks -- nobody doesn't like Sheryl Lee. You've half won me over any time Laura Palmer steps on-screen!
- Matthew J. McCue
This year, the "cozy" indie goes to The Kids Are All Right taking An Education's slot whereas The Winter's Bone takes the "egad!" Precious spot.
Winter's Bone is the disturbing would be FX/AMC series of Ozark meth-country where the cast of Deliverance has settled into a life of cabin having, rust car loving, squirrel eating ways. What better way to guide the audience through this cinematically neglected slice of Americana than with a plot about missing man, an overdue mortgage payment, and an older sister who just won't stand down -- perfectly played by Jennifer Lawrence.
While Nicole Kidman, Michelle Williams, Halle Berry, and Julianne Moore -- half pleased, half pissed -- wondered whether they would make it to the big dance, Jennifer Lawrence sat comfortably in the knowledge that she had an actress nomination in the bag. Our guide through the Methropolitan Museum got her nose bloodied more than once and seemed like she could lose her life at any moment -- or worse yet, a limb or digit! She comfortably carried this heavy film equivalent of August: Osage from start to finish, with nary a mis-step -- despite the carcasses, shell-casings, and strewn auto parts in her way.
Much like little Hailee Steinfeld, Ms. Lawrence has arrived. She's swooped in like a young, Monster-ous Charlize, without the ugly. Jennifer's Oscar chances seem impossible. She will have to rest comfortably with the trophies she's already amassed -- and a possible Independent Spirit Win -- not a bad year. It's a great kick-off to what will most certainly be an excellent career. Hats off, JL.
The other nominee who deserves a down-home salute is supporting actor John Hawkes. Nothing pleases me more than a career actor who finally gets his due at the Oscars. A win isn't necessary to cap off the work of a man like Hawkes -- partially because we know we'll see him in ten films, television series, and even on stage next year alone. Academy recognition is all that matters to a man like Hawkes -- a man whose consistent quality is that of David Straithairn or William H. Macy. The time may come. If it doesn't his staggering resume will be achievement enough.
Congrats to this off-beat indie and its broad success. With a picture nom, actress, supporting actor, and screenplay to boot, Winter's Bone is nothing to shake a stick at -- unless you want a methed out psycho to grab that stick from you, beat you to death, and chuck your body in the nearest ditch.
And when you get right down to it folks -- nobody doesn't like Sheryl Lee. You've half won me over any time Laura Palmer steps on-screen!
- Matthew J. McCue
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