2014 OSCAR NOMINATIONS
Two trends are killing the prestige of the
Oscar nominations: the over-saturation of pre-Oscar coverage, to the point that
it seems as if the predictions are being voted on not the performances or films,
and the emphasis in the follow-up coverage on the so-called “snubs.”
I’ll admit to being guilty of playing the
snub game. But, in fact, that’s looking at the process the wrong way. Actors
and films that fail to be nominated by the Academy voters aren’t being snubbed,
they are finishing sixth or seventh (in most categories) or ninth or 10th (for
best picture). Have I snubbed “Still Alice” or “Gone Girl” because they just
missed out making my Top 10?
And then, once the “snubs” have been
established, everyone has to weigh in on the whys and wherefores that resulted
in the snub. Reading the coverage of the snub of “Selma,” you’d think it wasn’t
nominated for best picture (see my opinion on that below). Martin Scorsese made
six films, including “Mean Streets” and “Taxi Driver,” before he received a
director’s nomination, while it took the Coen brothers until their sixth film,
“Fargo” to be recognized by Academy voters. Yet we should be outraged that Ava
DuVernay, who made two little-seen films before “Selma,” has been “snubbed”?
I’m
more disappointed that “A Most Violent Year” came up short, and that Brendan
Gleeson for “Calvary” and Jake Gyllenhaal for “Nightcrawler” didn’t make the
best actor list. And I’m still waiting for an explanation of why the joyful and
heartbreaking film about Roger Ebert, “Life Itself,” wasn’t among the
documentary nominees. The voters for docs have often blundered
egregiously—Steve James, the director of “Life Itself,” was ignored in 1994 for
his acclaimed documentary “Hoop Dreams,” widely considered the best nonfiction
film of the past 25 years. Maybe James insulted some voters along the way….or,
maybe, at least this year, there were five documentaries (none of which I saw)
that were better.
And where the hell is “Interstellar,”
unquestionably a great film?
But that’s the point, right? The process comes
down to someone’s opinion, in fact, the opinion of a committee, making it even less
scientific. I find it actually amazing that they get it right as often as they
do.
Having seen 90% of the acting nominees and
all of the best picture selections, I’ll offer these predictions: Michael
Keaton, for “Birdman,” and Julianne Moore for “Still Alice,” will win the lead
acting Oscars, while J.K. Simmons, as the obnoxious band director in
“Whiplash,” and Patricia Arquette, as the tireless mother in “Boyhood,” will
accept the supporting Oscars. While I am not a fan of “Boyhood”—it won’t make
my Top 20—I think it will win best picture and its director, Richard Linklater,
will also take home the Oscar. For my money, his 2011 film, “Bernie,” was miles
better than this year’s nominated picture. But I can live with “Boyhood”
winning best picture as long as Keaton wins best actor. That’s all I ask of the
voters: Don’t snub “Birdman!”
While it is remains a work in progress,
here’s my Top 10 for 2014.
1 Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of
Ignorance)
(Alejandro González Iñárritu )
2 Interstellar (Christopher Nolan)
3 A Most Violent Year (J.C. Chandor)
4 The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson)
5 American Sniper (Clint Eastwood)
6 The Theory of Everything (James Marsh)
7 A Most Wanted Man (Anton Corbijn)
8 Calvary (John
Michael McDonagh)
9 Nightcrawler
(Dan Gilroy)
10 Wild (Jean-Marc
Vallée)
A MOST VIOLENT YEAR (2014)
Not to sound like an old guy, but if every
American movie was set in and made in the style of the 1970s, I’d be a very
happy filmgoer. Even those that don’t turn out very well (see “Inherent Vice”
below) provide a better movie experience for me than all but the best of
contemporary-set movies. J.C. Chandor’s latest film may be the best retro ‘70s
picture I’ve seen since….well, the early 1980s (when it was, at least at the
movies, still the “1970s.”)
Chandor has admitted that the cop films
of the great director Sidney Lumet were influential on his approach to “A Most
Violent Year,” set in New York City in 1981, the height of street violence and
general lawlessness in the city.
Every frame of “A Most Violent Year”
exudes a grim, intense reality—the sun never seems to break free of cloud
cover—as it follows Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac), a Latino immigrant who, through
hard work and good connections, runs a heating oil company, transporting the
commodity in trucks throughout the five boroughs.
Despite being in an industry control by
the mob and equally corrupted unions, Abel attempts to run his business the
right way, or as close as possible. Which becomes difficult when his deal to
buy waterfront storage units from an Hasidic businessman (the diverse face of
New York is front and center in the film) is in danger because someone is
hijacking his trucks and an ambitious assistant DA (David Oyelowo) wants to
indict him on corrupt charges.
Another thorn in Abel’s side is his
equally ambitious wife Anna (the chameleon-like Jessica Chastain), who learned
the trade from her mobster father and, unlike her husband, has no problem
bending the law to survive. Probably the best scenes in the film are the
arguments, and then make ups, between Abel and Anna; the intense, often
uncomfortable scenes recall the kind of dialogue that marked so many great
films from the 1970s. They are the Macbeths of mobbed-up New York.
Isaac, fresh from his breakout role as the
obnoxious folk singer in the Coen brothers’ “Inside Llewyn Davis” (2013), nails
this slick, well-dressed young businessman who wavers between supreme
confidence and desperation as he watches his world collapse around him.
Chastain’s Anna is the ultimate ball-buster
who isn’t afraid to step over her husband to do what she sees as necessary.
(The scene in which they slam into a deer defines their love/hate
relationship). That this role is so different from Chastain’s previous work
(“The Tree of Life,” “Zero Dark Thirty,” “Interstellar”) makes it more
impressive. She definitely deserved an Oscar nomination.
Also noteworthy is Albert Brooks as
Abel’s old-school lawyer and Elyes Gabel as a truck driver who never recovers
from being a hijack victim.
Chandor’s first film, “Margin Call” (2011),
was a crackling tick-tock look at the financial crash of 2008 from inside one
company. He followed that with what I thought was a rather pointless “All Is
Lost,” about a nameless man (Robert Redford) trying to survive on a small boat
in the middle of the sea.
“A Most Violent Year” puts him in another
class; he is not only a superb craftsman (with much help here from
cinematographer Bradford Young), who is in total command of tone and mood, and
a superb director of actors, but that rare screenwriter who brings razor-sharp
dialogue to every scene and the kind of depth to characters that is nearly gone
from American films today.
CALVARY (2014)
I doubt that Brendan Gleeson will ever
receive the recognition he deserves. Simply put, he’s one of the finest actors
working today.
After
gaining attention as the tough-guy Dubin criminal Martin Cahill in “The
General” (1998), the Irish actor has mostly worked as a supporting player
(“Gangs of New York,” a couple of “Harry Potter” films, “Green Zone”). But when
given a chance to lead, he’s been memorable: as the reluctant, gentle hit man
in “In Bruges” (2008), portraying Winston Churchill in the 2009 TV movie “Into
the Storm,” and as a blunt, abrasive Irish cop in “The Guard” (2011).
But
this performance, as Father James, a weary priest in a small Irish village, stands
as his finest to date. As a man who came late to the priesthood, after the
death of his wife and recovery from a drinking problem, James has seen more of
the dark side of life than most who take the sacraments, yet he continues to
offer hope and redemption to others.
But few in this town are interested in
salvation or much of anything connected to the church, once the centerpiece of
communities like this. Now, the Catholic Church is seen as a bothersome
neighbor. But in the face of the disrespect, this determined priest carries on.
Writer-director John Michael McDonagh (in
just his second film after “The Guard”) makes his points early in the film when
James hears the confession of a man who promises to kill him because of another
priest (now dead) who molested the anonymous confessor when he was a boy. The
priest faces his own Calvary.
That threat hangs over the film like a
thunderstorm inching over the hillside as Father James deals with his
parishioners: a dysfunctional young couple, an arrogant, drunken millionaire
and a hateful, insulting bar owner. His only real friend is, ironically, an
American writer, played by legendary character actor M. Emmett Walsh, working
on his latest novel in a remote cabin not far from the village. Walsh, 80 but
looking 150, gives a wonderfully amusing turn, bringing a slice of light to
this otherwise grim tale.
The
church also comes under assault in the form of Father Leary, a younger priest
working with James who is utterly clueless in how to deal with people and the
priorities of faith.
James’ past is brought out through
conversations with his grown daughter (the superb Kelly Reilly, best known as
Watson’s wife in “Sherlock Holmes”), who visits from Dublin. That he has a
common-man’s history gives him an edge, an authenticity that Gleeson uses to
forge a portrait of an unusual, yet still traditional man of the cloth.
This
is the rare film that thoughtfully, and without becoming a sermon, deals with
death and faith and the choices that determine the course of our lives. The
towering strength of Gleeson’s performance carries those messages, bringing truthfulness
and deeply felt heartbreak to the character and the film.
STILL ALICE (2014)
It is one thing to face the realities of
old age as one’s body, in fits and spurts, nears its expiration date. But the
thought of Alzheimer’s—a kind of living death, the loss of everything that
makes you you, incurable—is nearly unfathomable.
This film tells the story of Alice
Howland, a highly esteemed, 50-year-old linguistics professor, who, after
experiencing occasional memory losses, learns that she has a rare early-onset
of familial Alzheimer’s.
At
middle-age, she must face the debilitating losses that most don’t experience
until their 80s, struggling with daily life and realizing that she is becoming
a burden to her husband and grown children.
The film doesn’t try to be anything more
than a portrait of a woman on the verge of losing everything; that approach is
successful because of a brilliant performance by Julianne Moore.
The 54-year-old actress first made a
splash in Hollywood in Robert Altman’s “Short Cuts” (1993), in which she
causally played a scene, an argument between a husband and wife, bottomless.
She toiled away in both little-seen art films (“Vanya on 42nd
Street,” “Safe”) and ridiculous big-budget movies (“Nine Months,” “The Lost
World: Jurassic Park”) before her breakthrough role as porn star Amber Waves in
P.T. Anderson’s “Boogie Nights” (1997). It earned her an Oscar nomination, the
first of five, followed by “The End of the Affair” (2000), “The Hours” (2002),
“Far From Heaven” (2002) and “Still Alice.”
She deserved to take home the Oscar for
her performance as a frustrated ‘50s housewife in “Far From Heaven,” but her
stunning transformation as Alice, from an expert in the development of language
to a confused, hopeless victim of this awful disease should rectify that oversight.
Though the conversations with her husband (a very restrained Alec Baldwin) and
youngest daughter (a well-cast Kristen Stewart), Moore can be seen struggling
to hold onto yourself, to remain connected, even as the disease chips away at
her.
Writing and directing partners Richard
Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland, adapting neuroscientist Lisa Genova’s novel,
smartly keep the camera focused on Moore, peering into her quietly expressive face,
which, more than any piece of dialogue, tells the story of her heartbreaking
fate.
AMERICAN SNIPER (2014)
Since scoring a best picture Oscar
nomination and a spot on most critics’ Top 10 lists, this film about Navy SEAL
sharp-shooter Chris Kyle has faced a nonstop assault from the leftwing blogosphere
with claims that it paints a false picture of the war in Iraq and misrepresents
the character of Kyle.
While I count myself among those who feel
we had, and have, no business in Iraq—that fabrications were used to convince
the American public it was a necessary fight—those who want every film
depiction of the war to cater to their political view is nothing short of
anti-art.
Should
I dismiss the entire genre of Westerns because of their prejudicial view of
native Americans? I might not believe everything proposed by Oliver Stone in
“JFK,” but that doesn’t stop me from considering it a heck of a film. Exactly
when did it become the requirement of filmmakers to provide the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, an historical accurate view (as if that’s even
possible), of the events being portrayed? Does every World War II film need an
explanation of the political and economic decisions that led to the conflict?
And please don’t look to “American Sniper”
for a nuanced portrayal of the Iraqi people—like the Germans, Japanese and
North Vietnamese before them, they are nothing more than the cinematic “enemy.”
While the film tells the story from Kyle’s
narrow, super-patriotic view of the war on terror (he’s W., if he had
enlisted), the protagonist turns out to be far from the John Wayne-model of war
hero. What director Clint Eastwood
(whose political views have spurred much of the vitriolic reaction) and
screenwriter Jason Hall have fashioned is one of the most interesting war
pictures in recent years, managing to be both pro-war and anti-war. The right
may see Kyle as a national hero, but he’s also a damaged man who grows
frustrated by the insanity he encounters in Iraq and his own inability to
function outside of the warzone.
Based on Kyle’s autobiography, the script
offers a pointed examination of what war does to a man; the personal cost of
relentless killing, even when done in the name of your country.
You probably know the details of this
story: Kyle spent four tours in Iraq, credited with being the most deadly
sniper in U.S. history, but became more and more distanced from his family and
life at home. War turns him into an efficient killing machine who can barely
function in civilian life.
Making this duality real is Bradley
Cooper, giving his best performance to date as Kyle, an average Joe who becomes
something special when he’s given a rifle and told to kill bad guys. Cooper
must go beyond the lines of script to show how his war experiences, superbly
staged by Eastwood, alter his being.
Sierra Miller plays his wife Taya, who
must bear the brunt of his distant moodiness and attempt to hold the family
together.
After enduring the dullness of Eastwood’s
film version of “The Jersey Boys” earlier this year, I wondered if it was time
for the 84-year-old to hand in his DGA card. He didn’t wait long to redeem
himself, crafting a film that is both a fine depiction of the randomness of
contemporary war and a powerful portrait of a warrior who pays for his devotion
to doing what he believes is his duty. Not unlike Eastwood’s Bill Munny in
“Unforgiven,” Chris Kyle was raised to accept violence and guns as necessities
in life, but learns the costs that must be paid, on both sides.
SELMA
(2014)
Before I saw this movie about the Dr. Martin
Luther King Jr.-led march from Selma to Montgomery, a turning point in the
Civil Rights movement, my primary question was why it took so long for a
depiction of some part of King’s monumental life to make it to the big screen.
After watching “Selma,” I wondered how it
was possible to turn this legendary life into such a slow and lifeless motion
picture. While the mainstream media is all aghast that Ava DuVernay failed to
earn a best director Oscar nomination, I cannot grasp why it scored a best
picture nomination.
This knee-jerk response discounts, or conveniently
ignores, that this same body of Oscar voters selected “12 Years a Slave” as
best picture 12 months ago and has nominated (according to the Los Angeles
Times) 33 black actors and writer-directors in the past 14 years. Now,
apparently, they are racists and need to be counter-acted by adding minority
faces to their membership.
The offensive assumption is that minority
voters will ignore aesthetics and art and vote for “their” people. Total
rubbish. It’s an insult to every minority who works in the business. Do we
really need to question the liberal concerns of a group of Hollywood actors,
writers, producers and craftsmen? Isn’t this the same group that is forever assailed
by the right wing as perverting the country’s values and favoring minority
causes?
I guess I’m just confused. Sorry for that
interruption: I’ll step off my soap box and get back to the movie:
The film begins with the shattering bombing
of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, that
killed four young girls in 1963 and then a scene that shows the outrageous
hoops that blacks had to go through to register to vote in Alabama (and
throughout the South) in that era. These scenes are powerful reminders of how
recently a large chunk of America (and many of these folks are still alive and
wielding power) treated African American as bothersome, clueless children.
This brings in King and others from the
Southern Christian Leadership, including Ralph Abernathy and Andrew Young, who
head to Selma, Alabama, for a 1965 protest at the courthouse over voting
rights.
David Oyelowo (“The Butler”) plays King as
a very quiet, thoughtful but tightly wound leader who often confounds his
fellow activities with his sudden decisions. It is a good performance, but
rarely does Oyelowo, who is made-up to look quite like the man himself, rise
above the printed words and truly become this legendary figure.
The film, in large part because of a
lackluster, by-the-numbers direction and Paul Webb’s script, never finds a way
to dig below the historical surface, never made me feel like I was there with
them—standing up to Bull Connor or suffering under the hateful batons of
Southern “lawmen.”
Near the end of the picture, fading
black-and-white newsreels of the Selma march are shown and they feel more vivid
than the previous two hours of drama.
Actually, the most compelling scenes in the
film are between King and President Lyndon Johnson (Tom Wilkinson) as King
tries to persuade the president to push for a voting rights bill. The script
does a disservice to LBJ, not in the words (which I don’t doubt the validity of)
but in his attitude. In subtle ways, the film implies that LBJ actual
considered having King eliminated (J. Edgar Hoover’s idea) and was a reluctant
partner in this fight for African American rights. This ignores his long, very
unpopular fight to get the Civil Rights Act of 1964 through Congress and the
work in support of King by LBJ’s attorney general, Robert Kennedy. Some critics
of the film have said that LBJ actually encouraged King to march to Selma,
which is the opposite of what’s shown in the film.
Yet making Johnson something of a bad guy
does give the film some juice and allows Oyelowo to show some fire. Except for
one student activist, whose motivations aren’t clear, the other protest leaders
are never fully developed, thus offering little contrast to King. Carmen Ejogo
as Coretta King is very elegant and restrained but has little to do, even when
confronting her husband about his affairs.
“Selma” isn’t a bad film by any means; it
will serve as the perfect classroom tool to illustrate the inhumanity and
pervasiveness of American racism and the power of peaceful resistance. Yet it
falls shorts of bringing that movement and the most reverent Martin Luther King
alive.
INHERENT VICE (2014)
Writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson has
the period atmosphere, dialogue, attitude and vibe down so perfectly that you
could easily pass off his new film as a forgotten relic from 1972.
Unfortunately, for contemporary audiences, it’s not a relic that deserved to be
unearthed.
A perfectly cast Joaquin Phoenix plays
Larry “Doc” Sportello, a dope-smoking, beach-dwelling, very hairy hippie, who
somehow carves out a living as a private detective. Living amid the drug crowd
of Manhattan Beach, Calif. (here called Gordita Beach), he barely seems capable
of maintaining his balance, let along taking on the problems of others. Yet, he
does have connections.
The story begins when his former
girlfriend, stereotypical hippie girl/actress Shasta (Katherine Waterston)
reappears at his apartment seeking his help. According to her somewhat vague
story, she’s in the middle of a scam to defraud real estate mogul, and her
current lover, Wolfmann (Eric Roberts). Then, everywhere Doc turns, he runs
into someone connected to Wolfmann, including a dead body at a massage parlor.
There are scenes in “Inherent Vice” that
are wonderfully acted and conceived—taken directly from Thomas Pynchon’s
novel—but the film never achieved the offhanded comic lunacy that pervades the
book. I laughed more at the trailer than I did when I saw the entire film a
week later.
Phoenix is properly clueless as he stumbled
from one crazed setting to another; watching his reactions to the collection of
characters he encounters is the most entertaining aspect of the movie. He
eventually puts his efforts into saving a confused sax player turned federal
informant (Owen Wilson), who is mixed into the convoluted, pointlessly messy
tale. Doc’s grass-fueled aplomb is amusing, but, at some point, it becomes
clear this is leading nowhere.
Offering some diversion is Josh Brolin, as
a hard-ass LA police detective with a love-hate relationship with Doc, using
the PI to unofficially dig into truths long buried by the LAPD; and Benicio Del
Toro as Doc’s gonzo lawyer, who expertise in Maritime law comes in handy when a
ship dubbed “The Golden Fang” becomes a central player in the mystery.
I kept rooting for the film to turn the
corner and evolve into something memorable (not unlike my reaction to the
director’s “The Master”) but it never happened.
