Scheming of the Lambs: Best Actor, 1991

The nominees for 1991’s Best Actor:

Warren Beatty, Bugsy

Robert De Niro, Cape Fear

Anthony Hopkins, The Silence of the Lambs

Nick Nolte, The Prince of Tides

Robin Williams, The Fisher King

How does one define Best Actor, supposedly meant for leading players? Usually it’s pretty easy, you know who the lead is. Warren Beatty plays Bugsy Siegel in Bugsy; it’s right there in the title! Nick Nolte is in every scene of The Prince of Tides, the movie follows his arc, easy. Robin Williams is more of a co-lead in The Fisher King: the first 20 minutes are all Jeff Bridges and we don’t witness Williams outside of Bridges’ POV until past the halfway point, but he and Bridges are unquestionably the two arcs we follow, of equal importance. Ditto Robert De Niro in Cape Fear, which appears to be Nick Nolte’s movie (what a year he had!), but it doesn’t take long for De Niro’s psychopathic Max Cady to take center stage - unquestionably the co-lead.

The one that people still debate, however, is Anthony Hopkins in his first go as Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs. The film follows Clarice Starling’s pursuit of serial killer Buffalo Bill, she comes to Lecter for consultation purposes. There was no doubt he was going to get nominated - when the movie premiered and Hopkins and Jodie Foster hit the red carpet for the 1990 Oscars, reporters even asked him if he felt like this was his dress rehearsal for the following Oscars - but until campaigning began in earnest in late Autumn, he was the favorite to win Best Supporting Actor - even the National Board of Review named him so!

But apparently Hopkins disagreed, convincing the studio publicists to push him for Lead. He went from odds-on favorite to presumed second banana: how could he possibly hope to win against the raw emotional nakedness of Nolte, who’d taken the Golden Globe and various critics’ prizes? Of course, we know now, Hopkins was unstoppable:

But was it category fraud? I say no. Starling is how we get to Lecter, and once we do, he has an arc of his own to follow, separate from hers: the slow manipulation of resources that will allow for his escape. And interactions with Lecter have their impact on Starling, too, both in her approach to the case and in how she sees herself. Hopkins is a Lead.

But should he have won? My rankings, from fifth to first:

King’s Queen: Best Supporting Actress, 1991

The nominees for the Best Supporting Actress of 1991:

Diane Ladd, Rambling Rose

Juliette Lewis, Cape Fear

Kate Nelligan, The Prince of Tides

Mercedes Ruehl, The Fisher King

Jessica Tandy, Fried Green Tomatoes

What a lineup! The only one from a Best Picture nominee is The Prince of Tides' Kate Nelligan as Nick Nolte's mother, but even though she had won some critics' awards - and would win the BAFTA Award in this category for the next year (again, those pesky release dates!) - her presence here is somewhat a surprise: all her other honors were for her performance in Frankie and Johnny. Jessica Tandy was enjoying a career renaissance following her Best Actress win for 1989's Driving Miss Daisy; fried Green Tomatoes gave her another Southern eccentric to play, the story's narrator. Then-17-year-old Juliette Lewis broke out in a big way as Nick Nolte and Jessica Lange's rebellious daughter in Martin Scorsese's Southern Grande Guignol Cape Fear. And of course, the great Diane Ladd, here for a third time for her matriarch in Rambling Rose.

But there was no beating The Fisher King's Mercedes Ruehl, she was having a moment. By 1991, she had already won acclaim for her performance in Married to the Mob and won the Tony Award for the original Broadway run of Neil Simon's Lost in Yonkers, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. With The Fisher King, she got a showcase role in a movie that topped the box office for two consecutive weeks, earning critical praise and critics' awards - hell, even though the Los Angeles Film Critics honored Life is Sweet's Jane Horrocks as the Best Supporting Actress of the year, they fudged placement and named Ruehl their Best Lead Actress - people were eager to award her! Eventually, the Academy got in on it:

My own rankings, from fifth to first:

Curly's Gold: Best Supporting Actor, 1991

So now that we've briefly gone over the 75 films screened from 1991, we can get into the Academy Awards. Just going by the non-specialty feature-length narrative categories, 25 films were nominated across 18 categories. We're only going to discuss a few of them this week, the nominees for Acting, Directing, and Best Picture, and, just like the 64th Academy Awards ceremony, we're starting with Best Supporting Actor:

Tommy Lee Jones, JFK

Harvey Keitel, Bugsy

Ben Kingsley, Bugsy

Michael Lerner, Barton Fink

Jack Palance, City Slickers

Three first-time nominees (Jones, Keitel, Lerner), three from (two) Best Picture nominees (Jones, Keitel, Kingsley), and one previous winner (Kingsley). Lot of overlap there, except for Hollywood veteran Jack Palance, up for his scene-stealing turn as cattle driver Curly in the smash hit City Slickers, his third nomination in a career that dated back to 1950’s Panic in the Streets. Veteran actor in a popular film giving the performance everyone's talking about - it's a familiar formula, you might even call it a winning one:

He wasn't the only winner of the lot, though. Keitel, up for playing the Los Angeles mobster Mickey Cohen, who teams up with Bugsy Siegel in Bugsy, was named Best Supporting Actor by the National Society of Film Critics for three roles: Bugsy, Thelma & Louise, and Mortal Thoughts (didn't see it). Lerner, as an Old Hollywood studio magnate in Barton Fink - a bit of Selznick, a bit of Mayer - hired a publicist and financed his own Oscar campaign after the Los Angeles Film Critics anointed him Best Supporting Actor at their annual awards; the absence of his co-star John Goodman, Golden Globe nominee and second runner-up at the New York Critics Circle Awards, was considered a surprise. As for the others, Kingsley, as New York mobster/Siegel's oldest friend Meyer Lansky, had been nominated at the Golden Globes, while Jones, as politician Clay Shaw, the only person ever put on trial for conspiring to assassinate President Kennedy, had only been honored by the Dallas-Fort Worth Critics Association, and Lord knows they're a prime target for Dealey Plaza stories. 

He was also nominated at the BAFTAs, but due to British release dates, that wouldn’t happen until the following year. In fact, none of the nominees here were up for the 1991 BAFTAs, whose four-wide category consisted of Alan Bates for the 1990 Hamlet, Derek Jacobi for Dead Again, singer Andrew Strong for The Commitments, and Alan Rickman, who won for Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. I think our category’s stronger, frankly!

My own rankings, from fifth to first: 

An Affair to Remember: 1991, Part Seven

Christmas Day audiences had a full menu in 1991: the Wim Wenders epic, the latest Lawrence Kasdan navel-gazer, a French film adaptation of a French literary classic, and the adaptation of a best-selling novel about a married man who falls in love with his sister's married therapist. Decisions, decisions! Audiences chose Hook; the Academy chose The Prince of Tides.

Based upon the 1986 best-selling novel of the same name by Pat Conroy,  The Prince of Tides was the second directorial effort for Barbra Streisand, who cast herself and Nick Nolte as the leads. The film wound up in the Top 20 highest-grossing films of 1991 and received seven Academy Award nominations - but not for Best Director, the only Best Picture nominee not to get a nomination in that category. As Billy Crystal sang, "Did this film direct myself?" Streisand would only direct one more film, 1996's The Mirror Has Two Faces.

Here are six of the films Vhristmas audiences could enjoy:

A Holiday for Murder: 1991, Part Six

It’s been a longtime tradition that studios save their Oscar hopefuls for the end of the year - closer to voting, fresh in the memory. It's no surprise, then, that three of the five Best Picture nominees were all released in December, two of them in the timeline we present today: December before Christmas. One of those is Bugsy:

Bugsy is a biopic of Benjamin Siegel (Warren Beatty), a Jewish gangster whose titular nickname was then-contemporaneous slang for crazy, due to his tendency to violently fly off the handle. Siegel invented Las Vegas as we know it today; the film gets into the risks he took, the tension between East Coast mobster Meyer Lansky (Ben Kingsley) and West Coast mobster Mickey Cohen (Harvey Keitel), his romance with Virginia Hill (Annette Bening), whose legs inspired the name of the casino-hotel The Flamingo, and more. It was not a total success at the box office, but director Barry Levinson blamed that on the fact that their distributor was more focused on the release of Hook, which came out just nine days before. Well, Bugsy got a Best Picture nomination and two Oscars; Hook was the #6 Box Office Hit of 1991 and won zero of its five Oscar nominations and had the larger cultural impact (my generation certainly seemed to hail it as a masterpiece), so who really won here?

The other nominee is JFK. 

Oliver Stone had already made a name for himself as the button-pushing, Oscar-winning filmmaker behind Platoon and Born on the Fourth of July, as well as the screenplay for Midnight Express - this three-hour-and-change epic focuses on one New Orleans-based lawyer fixating on the much-discussed conspiracy to assassinate John F. Kennedy and the subsequent cover-up. Not your typical holiday blockbuster fare, but it made over $200M worldwide, won two Oscars, and permeated the culture (even Seinfeld has an episode referencing a “magic loogie”).

It makes you feel for the no-doubt hopefuls that played at the same time. Such as:

True As It Can Be: 1991, Part Five

Since the Academy Awards began, only three animated films have won Best Picture. Two of them, Toy Story 3 and Up, are seen by many as beneficiaries of the Academy's 2009 expansion of the nominees to ten. The first animated Best Picture nominee didn't need an expanded ballot, it had the juice to take one of only five slots reserved for the very best in cinema, as decided by the people who make it. That was Beauty and the Beast:

After two decades of output that offered more curiosities than classics, the studio returned to making musical adaptations of fairy tales, as it had in the early days with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Cinderella. The Little Mermaid was a hit in 1989, and now came Beauty and the Beast, the "tale as old as time" about a beautiful young woman who, to save her father, offers herself as a prisoner to the owner of an enchanted castle: a prince cursed to live as a beast. Released the Friday before Thanksgiving, it proved to be no turkey. The songs, the canny casting (Angela Lansbury! Jerry Orbach!), the animation, the writing, all of it struck a chord with audiences and critics. It wrapped up the year as #3 at the box office and won two of its six Academy Award nominations. The success inspired a live-action Disney Channel pre-school series, a Broadway musical, a straight-to-video spinoff (with Tim Curry and Bernadette Peters!), and, eventually, a not-as-good live-action remake.

We'll get more into it when we discuss the Best Picture nominees. Meanwhile, that entire Autumn is full of instant classics and off-the-beaten-track masterpieces:

A Drag: 1991, Part Four

Summer slips into Autumn at the 1991 multiplexes, with a legendary documentary, a hit for Terry Gilliam, and a backloaded September:

Blockbuster Summer: 1991, Part Three

Summertime is the season for blockbusters, has been since 1975. The biggest hit of 1991 came out Fourth of July weekend, a movie that didn't just spend four weeks at #1, but wound up the #1 movie of the year, the first of three times director James Cameron could claim the top spot of the year. Obviously, I'm talking about Terminator 2: Judgment Day.

After the success of 1984's The Terminator, a sequel may have seemed inevitable, but it was a process getting started. James Cameron didn't want to do one, and besides, he had had a falling-out with the production company that held half the rights (Cameron's ex Gale Ann Hurd held the other half). Arnold Schwarzenegger did want a sequel, and he convinced Carolco Pictures, which had produced Total Recall, to purchase the rights and move forward - they even set a release date for Memorial Day weekend, before a storyline was even set. So, Cameron came back, and soon, it was the typical stories for a James Cameron film: behind schedule, over-budget, with reports that it cost too much to ever see profit. They were finishing post-production all the way up until the star-studded premiere on July 1; two days later, it hit screens.

A juggernaut. Not only did it take the top spot at the box office for the weekend, it broke the record for Fourth of July weekend releases. And everyone saw it, men, women, and children. It held onto the top spot for the entirety of July, sticking around long enough to end the year as 1991's highest grossing film. Right below it? Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, which had come out three weeks before...and which we'll also discuss below, alongside eleven others:

Guns Blazin': 1991, Part Two

The Silence of the Lambs continued its dominance for five weeks until Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze debuted. Eventually, the #1 spot was taken by City Slickers, which ended the year as the #5 hit of 1991, and which we get into below. But one movie that never topped the box office still became not just an Oscar winner, not just one of the year's top earners, but a cultural moment, debated by critics, audiences, and scholars: Thelma & Louise.

The brainchild of writer Callie Khouri, Thelma & Louise was born of her frustration with women's parts in cinema, and was originally set to be an indie film with Khouri directing. When the script got into Ridley Scott's hands, however, things changed: he came on as producer, and, after several others passed, eventually took on the directing reins, enticing actresses like Jodie Foster, Meryl Streep, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Goldie Hawn before the final duo of Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon were cast. And when it finally did come out, oh my goodness, what a furor. Was it feminist? Was it anti-male? Khouri and critic Janet Maslin said people who were offended were mis-aligning their sympathies (a nice way of saying, "a hit dog will holler"). It's a conversation that's still being had as subsequent generations discover the film; that, and what happens after the fade to white in the final frame, a sequence parodied over and over again in films (Wayne's World 2), television (Family Guy), commercials, and beyond. It's also the movie that changed the fortunes of the ab-solutely hunky drifter Louise takes up with, one Brad Pitt. And, did you know, just 19 days ago, a musical version of the film premiered in London, written by Callie Khouri with original songs by Neko Case? The legacy continues...

And it all happened here, in 1991, just one among these twelve releases:

The Early Bird: 1991, Part One

We start 1991 not in January, but in February. Partly because it just happened to work out that way. And partly because 1991's movie year - full of legends, beauty and the Beast and Thelma & Louise and JFK and Paris is Burning and Soapdish - can be said to center around the February box office smash that became a home video sensation, with enough heat to win Best Picture a year and a month after its initial release. Yes, yes: The Silence of the Lambs.

The film has an interesting pedigree for a blockbuster and Oscar winner. Based on a pulp paperback thriller, The Silence of the Lambs follows FBI trainee Clarice Starling as she hunts down a serial killer who skins his female victims; in her mission, she consults with the imprisoned murderer-psychiatrist-cannibal-genius Hannibal Lecter, who plays his own mind games with her. The director is Jonathan Demme, who by this time had become more known for his critically-acclaimed comedies like Melvin and Howard and Married to the Mob, though he initially broke through with exploitation pictures for Roger Corman, such as Caged Heat and Crazy Mama. The stars are Jodie Foster, a former child star who, with her Oscar-winning turn in 1988's The Accused, graduated into Serious Adult Actor, and Anthony Hopkins, a Welsh actor more known to the US for serious prestige work like The Lion in Winter or 87 Charing Cross Road. Together with writer Ted Tally, they made what could have been a lurid thriller and turned it into a hit with critics and audiences - and an enduring cinema classic.

Oh, yes, classic. We don't like to think of anything made after the 1960s as a classic, but it's been 35 years, I think we can say it, and The Silence of the Lambs more than qualifies, if just for how ubiquitous the film's iconography has become. Yes, the book series by Thomas Harris was already popular, and Michael Mann adapted Red Dragon into Manhunter in 1986, but it's the success of The Silence of the Lambs that gives us a four-film franchise, two television series (Hannibal and the short-lived Clarice), a musical parody (Silence! The Musical), decades of references (Zootopia 2 just last year paid homage), and even an "unconventional biography" (Brian Raftery's Hannibal Lecter: A Life, published just this February). Even during the film's first month of release, you could feel it: Foster and Hopkins presented the writing awards at the Academy Awards for 1990, just one month after The Silence of the Lambs came our, and were introduced with great fanfare and greeted by loud applause. When the VHS came out in October, it became the most rented video in the country. When the Academy Awards for 1991 were held the next year, the film became the third (and, so far, final) to win The Big Five: Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, Screenplay (adapted, in this case). That's a lot of momentum to carry for a year, but it had the goods.

And to think, in some places it played alongside these films:

1991: Well, Why Not?

I got so far behind on 1960 I almost forgot I spent April, May, and half of June watching 75 films from 1991. These 75, in fact:

The 1960 Retro Hollmann Awards

1960 took me a long time to sit back and consider. I started with this year because it was the last of Alfred Hitchcock's Best Director nominations; I wrap it up with an abundance of outstanding films of every genre, the beginning of a new decade heralding the coming of a new sensibility. The variety is evident in the number of nominees I wound up with: 38 different films are named within the 18 categories, 

The 1960 Retro Hollmann Awards:

The Top Ten of 1960

Here are my Top Ten films of 1960, with apologies to The Facts of Life (my #11), Hiroshima mon amour, Jazz on a Summer's Day, Lola Montès, Our Man in Havana, and Spartacus. Beginning with #10…

Hitch's Last Chance: Best Director, 1960

Here we come to the final Oscar category we're covering for 1960, the nominees for Best Director:

Jack Cardiff, Sons and Lovers

Jules Dassin, Never On Sunday

Alfred Hitchcock, Psycho

Billy Wilder, The Apartment

Fred Zinnemann, The Sundowners

Now, this would not be Hitchcock's year at the Oscars, though he didn't leave 1960 without some honors: when the Walk of Fame officially opened in early 1960, Hitchcock was among the first honorees, with two stars, one honoring his film work, the other honoring his television work. And as we discussed before, Psycho itself was a major hit, breaking box office records all around the world, with Hitch himself raking in over $15 million. It was a great year for the director, the year that, I would argue, made him the legend he is today. The Oscar nomination was the capper. Unfortunately, it wasn't a win, and it was his final nomination; he would finally get an Oscar seven years later ... an honorary award.

The night's big winner was Billy Wilder. Hitchcock had five Best Director nominations, Wilder had seven Best Director nominations, and four times - 1944, 1945, 1954, and 1960 - those nominations were against each other. This was the second time Wilder triumphed. It was also his last nomination, in this category, at least. Worth noting, too: this was also the third match-up between Wilder and Fred Zinnemann.

And how do I rate them? From fifth to first, here we go:

An All-Timer: Best Picture, 1960

Tomorrow we close out the 1960 Oscars with Best Director, since this 1944/45/60 run began with the nominations for Alfred Hitchcock. That’s the marquee category this time around. Which means today, we get into the Big Prize. The nominees for Best Picture are:

The Alamo

The Apartment

Elmer Gantry

Sons and Lovers

The Sundowners

My rankings, from fifth to first:

At Death’s Door: Best Actress, 1960

These are the 1960 nominees for Best Actress:

Greer Garson, Sunrise at Campobello

Deborah Kerr, The Sundowners

Shirley MacLaine, The Apartment

Melina Mercouri, Never on Sunday

Elizabeth Taylor, BUtterfield 8

What a storied race this was! Melina Mercouri made a splash for a Greek film but refused to "campaign", saying the publicity from the nomination made her miserable. Greer Garson, absent from the ceremonies since her neat five-in-a-row run in the 1940s (I didn't realize when I chose Hitchcock nominations I'd be getting Garson history, too!), got a final nod (and a Golden Globe!) in a biopic. Deborah Kerr believed she should have won the Oscar this time around. And Shirley MacLaine had as good a chance as any, with her Golden Globe win and the lead role in a Best Picture nominee.

Then there's Elizabeth Taylor, in a huge moneymaker that received good enough notices. And more to the point, she was at death's door. While filming Cleopatra in Europe, Taylor fell ill with a number of issues, with pneumonia finally delivering a near-fatal blow that had the world holding its breath. When news broke that she received an emergency tracheotomy and made a miraculous recovery...everyone else declined their invitations. Watch her category at that year's Oscar ceremony, she's the only nominee who showed up...or had reason to:

And did she deserve it, whatever the quality of the film itself? My rankings, from fifth to first:

His Turn: Best Actor, 1960

The nominees of 1960 continue with Best Actor:

Trevor Howard, Sons and Lovers

Burt Lancaster, Elmer Gantry

Jack Lemmon, The Apartment

Laurence Olivier, The Entertainer

Spencer Tracy, Inherit the Wind

All five performances are stellar, all five performers among the best to ever do it; only Howard was a one-and-done, the rest had been here before and would be again. Hell, three of them - Lemmon, Olivier, Tracy - already had gold, so it's no wonder that the Academy went for someone they knew and already liked, but hadn't yet awarded: Burt Lancaster.

Ironically, Lancaster said it was the easiest role of his career, basically playing himself, he said. A helluva thing to say when you've seen the movie. Here are my rankings, from fifth to first:

Chill Wills’ Big Blunder: Best Supporting Actor, 1960

The 1960 nominees for Best Supporting Actor:

Peter Falk, Murder, Inc.

Jack Kruschen, The Apartment

Sal Mineo, Exodus

Peter Ustinov, Spartacus

Chill Wills, The Alamo

Peter Ustinov won, but that win has been overshadowed by Chill Wills’ infamous awards campaign. Wills, who’d been in the business a good long time and figured this was his one short at the gold, hired a publicist named W.S. Wojciechowicz, aka “Bow-Wow”. Apparently, he did not consult with Wills, the actor trusting the professional to know his business. So Wills was blindsided when an ad appeared in the Hollywood Reporter purporting to be from the cast and crew of The Alamo: We of The Alamo cast are praying harder - than the real Texans prayed for their lives in the Alamo - for Chill Wills to win the Oscar…” 

Tacky! Tasteless! And, for some I’m sure, proof that every element of this film was just ego and Oscar-hunting. The Alamo’s director-producer-star John Wayne condemned the ad, Wills sent Bow-Wow to the doghouse, and Ustinov went home with the gold. 

My rankings, from fifth to first:

Shirley Jones Has Range: Best Supporting Actress, 1960

We finally begin our 1960 Oscars coverage with Best Supporting Actress:

Glynis Johns, The Sundowners

Shirley Jones, Elmer Gantry

Shirley Knight, The Dark at the Top of the Stairs

Janet Leigh, Psycho

Mary Ure, Sons and Lovers

All five were first-time nominees; three came from Best Picture nominees, including the eventual winner, Shirley Jones:

At this point, Jones was best known as the heroine of Rodgers & Hammerstein: as the first - and only - singer ever under a personal contract for the famous songwriting duo, she was hand-selected by them to lead the film adaptation of Oklahoma! when she was but 20. That was five years ago, and now, in her sixth movie role, Jones finally got to quit playing the good girl and start being bad. In Elmer Gantry, she plays Lulu Bains, a prostitute who learns of the growing fame of traveling preacher Elmer Gantry...and remembers his younger days when he used his charms on her and, as she says, "rammed the fear of God into me so fast I never heard my old man's footsteps!" Now she has a way to pay him back...

That's the kind of narrative that gets you an Oscar: young up-and-comer established in one kind of role gets to flex her acting muscles with a "de-glammed" one. And in a Best Picture nominee! And a prostitute, Oscar's favored profession for women! And you can't say she didn't make good on it: while she was never nominated again, she did achieve pop culture immortality - and a Grammy nomination! - as the momma behind The Partridge Family. 

Her competition? Golden Globe winner Janet Leigh in Psycho, who dominates the first half-hour before taking the most legendary shower in movie history; Mary Ure in Best Picture nominee Sons and Lovers, as a married yet liberated woman in turn-of-the-century England; Glynis Johns in Best Picture nominee The Sundowners, as a pub owner who entertains romance with Peter Ustinov; and Shirley Knight as the daughter in The Dark at the Top of the Stairs, the only nominee here who was nominated a second time.

Did the performances merit their nominations? My thoughts, from fifth to first:

Florida Winter: 1960, Part Nine

By the end of 1960, the United States of America had elected a new President, John F. Kennedy. At the cinemas, meanwhile, we were obsessed with sex and the mythologizing of nations. As witness:

Imitation Kurosawa: 1960, Part Eight

In October 1960, JFK floated the idea of a Peace Corps while Khruschev banged his shoe at the United Nations. And at the movies:

Got Me Feeling Like A...: 1960, Part Seven

In September 1960, OPEC is founded, The Flintstones premieres on ABC, and the first-ever televised presidential debate takes place between Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy. And there was much at the cinema, too, but the big story was Psycho.

Psycho was a bit of a gamble for director-producer Alfred Hitchcock, who insisted on making it, even when his parent studio Paramount balked. But Hitchcock loved a challenge, and making a commercial film out of a particularly nasty horror novel like Robert Bloch's was certainly one of his biggest. Ultimately, he filmed on the Universal lot, using the quick-acting crew from his then-popular television program, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, waving his usual fee in exchange for 60% stake, and financing much of it himself; Paramount would only have to distribute. He broke all the rules: the heroine was a criminal, the most sympathetic character is a serial killer, a toilet flushes on screen...he even broke the rules of exhibition, instilling a policy where, for fear of spoilers, no one was admitted into the cinema once the film had begun (at a time when people would wander freely once they bought a ticket - it's where the phrase, "This is where we came in," originated from). 

The film was, as you must know, a massive hit, which made Hitchcock's "deal" with Paramount a sound financial decision on his part. The sets used for the film are still on display and visited by thousands of tourists daily at Universal Studios Hollywood's Backlot Tour. Bernard Herrmann's iconic score and the shower scene it accompanies are recognizable even by people who've never seen the film, so often have they been referenced and parodied. But the original still entices, and there are retro screenings (like the one I attended back in 2000) all year round, all over the world . There are even action figures and computer games, three sequels and one remake, and a surprisingly well-received television adaptation. Psycho is its own economy, and it all started here, in September 1960 - among these films:

Roger Corman Double Feature: 1960, Part Six

August 1960 saw the continuing liberation of African colonies into their own nations - that was the theme of 1960, which was deemed the Year of Africa, but August saw the largest number: between August 1 and August 17, Upper Volta (now Burkina Faso), Niger, Ivory Coast, Chad, Central African Republic, Republic of the Congo (the great 2024 documentary Soundtrack to a Coup d'Etat gets into this), and Gabon all became liberated from France, and Dahomey from France and Portugal, joining seven other African nations that had decolonized earlier that year. Seventeen nations in all established independent governments by the end of the year. 

Meanwhile, at American cinemas...:

Genre Pics: 1960, Part Five

July 1960 saw the introduction of the 50-star flag of the United States of America, one year after Hawaii was welcomed as the 50th State. It ended with the Woolworth's counter officially serving its first Black customer and the Republicans naming Richard Nixon their nominee for President of the United States. Meanwhile, at the movies, one of cinema's greatest franchises began its eight-film, four-year run, cementing its star as the King of Horror...

Among other film releases, of course:

Delays: 1960, Part Four

Well, it's been a week, but things get busy in life. Let's return to Summer 1960.

In June 1960, two Best Picture nominees debuted in cinemas. One, The Apartment, would finish at #8 in the Top 10 Box Office Performers of the Year, win Best Picture, and inspire a Neil Simon-Burt Bacharach-Hal David musical called Promises, Promises, which won many Tonys across the decades and gave us "I'm Never Gonna Fall in Love Again." The other, Elmer Gantry, so burrowed into my brain when I watched it in college that I then read the book, gave the book to my mother, got the opera on CD from the library, plotted out a remake, and still quote to this day.

They are but two of the ten releases I want to talk about today:

Eight Years Later, The Year After: 1960, Part Three

In April 1960, the United States launched the first weather satellite, and in May 1960, the Soviets shot down an American plane and captured its pilot, while Mossad tracked Adolf Eichmann to Buenos Aires and kidnapped him. But most importantly, the Oscars for the films of 1959 were held, and we've covered that year...gosh. I thought maybe five years ago, at most, but: turns out it was almost a decade ago. And eight years later, we're here at one year after.

 Here's a taste of what April/May 1960 had to offer:

Now You Has Jazz: 1960, Part Two

In February 1960, my dad turned one, the famous Woolworth’s sit-in occurred in Greensboro, North Carolina, and the first stars were officially established on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, a bizarre sidewalk tourist trap that still continues. In March, Korda’s famous portrait of Che Guevara was taken, the United States sent 3500 troops to Vietnam, and my mom turned one. And in cinemas, you had these offerings:

The Beginning: 1960, Part One

This month, we focus on the films of 1960, including Alfred Hitchcock's final Best Director nomination, the film for which he is probably best known - Psycho.

We'll come to that later this week, and even more detail next week. For today, we focus on the beginning of the year, the beginning of a new decade. It's been fifteen years since the end of World War II. We are in the thick of the Cold War: this is the decade of the Space Race, of the Bay of Pigs and the Missiles of October, of the Vietnam War, though all that comes later. This is also the decade of great social change all over the world, and you see that reflected even just among these eleven films. The grip the studios had on the culture will loosen this decade, as you can see in the below: more independent films, more films willing to take on sex and violence, more films challenging censors and societal norms, and coming out champions! 

Here we begin:

The 1945 Retro Hollmann Awards: Part Two

Now that we've done the Top Ten, the first nine awards, and had some time to think, I present the exciting conclusion to our 1945 coverage with the unveiling of the final nine winners for the 1945 Retro Hollmann Awards:

The 1945 Retro Hollmann Awards: Part One

With the Top Ten posted, we can finally start the grand finale. Here are the first nine categories for my Retro Hollmann Awards honoring the films of 1945:

My Top Ten Films of 1945

With apologies to The Body Snatcher, Lady on a Train, Murder He Says, A Royal Scandal, and Story of G.I. Joe, these are my Top Ten Films of 1945:

Billy's Turn: Best Director, 1945

We came to 1945 for the same reason we came to 1944: to explore all the years where Alfred Hitchcock was nominated for Best Director. This was his third nomination overall, for his second film under the auspices of producer David O. Selznick. The two admired each other, but both laid heavy hands in their work, so it's little surprise that, despite technically working for Selznick, Hitch made more films on loan to other studios during their seven years "together." Spellbound, fortunately, was a huge hit, the third greatest earner of the year in the US, while breaking box office records twice over in London.

Hitchcock found himself up for Best Director in a rare 3/5 repeat of the previous year's Best Director lineup:

Clarence Brown, National Velvet

Alfred Hitchcock, Spellbound

Leo McCarey, The Bells of St. Mary's

Jean Renoir, The Southerner

Billy Wilder, The Lost Weekend

The year before, Hitchcock, McCarey, and Wilder were all nominated, with McCarey winning; this year, Wilder would come out the winner. Hitchcock and Wilder were up against each other twice more, which we'll get into next month. In the meantime, my rankings, from fifth to first:

The Big Winner: Best Picture, 1945

Like its leading man, The Lost Weekend was inevitable. Indeed, in a time when the Golden Globes had winners only, the NYFCC didn't always have runner-ups, and the National Board of Review could give its top prize to documentaries, The Lost Weekend is the only film of any of these five to appear on other contemporary Best Picture lists!

Your nominees for the 18th Academy Awards' Best Motion Picture of the Year:

Anchors Aweigh

The Bells of St. Mary's

The Lost Weekend

Mildred Pierce

Spellbound

My rankings, from fifth to first:

The Tough Choice: Best Supporting Actress, 1945

The most difficult category of the year, because it truly is a murderer's row. Three of these actresses were nominated for their first and only time: Eve Arden, who went on to fame and fortune on television; and teenage actresses Ann Blyth and Joan Lorring, both playing "bad girls" in different degrees and accents. The other two were returning nominees. Angela Lansbury had just made her film debut the year before and already found herself a two-time nominee. Anne Revere had been nominated for The Song of Bernadette two years prior, but it was her role as the mother in National Velvet that won her the Academy Award:

She was nominated again for Gentleman's Agreement two years later, but the Red Scare effectively blacklisted her for twenty years. What a stupid time. Anyway, here are the nominees for 1945's Best Supporting Actress:

Eve Arden, Mildred Pierce

Ann Blyth, Mildred Pierce

Angela Lansbury, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Joan Lorring, The Corn is Green

Anne Revere, National Velvet

In Mildred Pierce, Eve Arden is the wisecracking friend and co-worker, while Ann Blyth is the traitorous, ungrateful daughter. In The Picture of Dorian Gray, Angela Lansbury is the saloon singer who maintains her innocence and, disastrously, falls in love with the titular heel. In The Corn is Green, Joan Lorring is the uncouth daughter of a schoolteacher's housekeeper who presents a challenge for the household and its hopes for the young Welshman they hope to make a writer of. And Revere is Momma to Liz Taylor.

My rankings, from fifth to first:

The Sure Thing: Best Actor, 1945

If you were paying attention and betting against Ray Milland for 1945's Best Actor Oscar, you deserved to lose your money. 

The versatile Canadian actor had done light comedy, musicals, horror, spy thrillers - and that was just his 1944 slate!  With Billy Wilder's The Lost Weekend, he took on the role of a writer who spends his days and nights getting boozed up, and when he isn't, he's scheming how to score the next drink. Not exactly the most commercial of plotlines, Paramount had insisted Wilder cast the reliable Milland to at least guarantee some butts in seats. From its first screenings in London, the seats were filled and the critical praise effusive; by the time it reached the United States, trade columns were already calling him the favorite for the Academy Award. And the year seemed to bear that out, as he won plaudits from the New York Critics, the National Board of Review, and the Hollywood Foreign Press. And yes, eventually, finally, the Oscar itself:

That wasn't even the end of his run, by the way. Six months later, The Lost Weekend was one of 44 films selected to compete at the 1st Cannes Film Festival. Not only was the film one of 11 to share the Grand Prix (this was before Palme d'Or), but Milland was named Best Actor - and didn't have to share at all.

But back to matters Oscar. These were the nominees for Best Actor:

Bing Crosby, The Bells of St. Mary's

Gene Kelly, Anchors Aweigh

Ray Milland, The Lost Weekend

Gregory Peck, The Keys of the Kingdom

Cornel Wilde, A Song to Remember

Bing Crosby was back in his Oscar-winning role of Father O'Malley in The Bells of St. Mary's, which, like its predecessor, was the highest-grossing film of the year. Gene Kelly made a surprise splash, and his only nomination, for Anchors Aweigh, a musical comedy about horny Navy men getting domesticated. There's Milland. Gregory Peck was only 28 when he played the Catholic missionary priest in The Keys of the Kingdom, which takes place over 50 years. And, finally, because Oscar law states someone has to be nominated for a biopic, there's Cornel Wilde as Chopin in A Song to Remember.

My rankings, from fifth to first:

Joan Gets Hers: Best Actress, 1945

Joan Crawford did not show up to collect her Academy Award in person. 

By 1945, Crawford had been in the industry for 20 years. She'd been a critical and box office darling since 1928's Our Dancing Daughters, was one of the "all-stars" in the 1931-32 Best Picture winner Grand Hotel, and was even dubbed Queen of the Movies by Life in 1937. But, as happens, her star waned, especially when she was listed among other notables as being "box office poison" in a Hollywood Reporter ad taken out by an independent exhibitor. Oh, she worked, yes, but to increasingly dismal results, and she parted ways with longtime home studio MGM. 

At Warner Bros., she begged Michael Curtiz for the lead role in Mildred Pierce, about a working woman who sweats and slaves to provide her children with perhaps more than they can afford, and who is rewarded with a booming business...and an ungrateful daughter and a scheming new husband. He wanted Barbara Stanwyck, and forced Crawford to audition. Which she did. And won the part. And the movie was a hit. And now, for the first time ever, she was nominated for an Academy Award.

But she did not show up. Blame those first-time jitters, perhaps, but Crawford begged off from appearing, claiming illness. Still, she had the show playing on the radio, and when she heard she won, she jumped into action. By the time the morning papers came out, there she was: in her sickbed, full face of makeup, clutching her Academy Award for the suddenly summoned photographers.

She had to face off against another first-timer and three previous winners. The nominees being:

Ingrid Bergman, The Bells of St. Mary's

Joan Crawford, Mildred Pierce

Greer Garson, The Valley of Decision

Jennifer Jones, Love Letters

Gene Tierney, Leave Her to Heaven

Ingrid Bergman had just won last year, and here she was playing the leading lady in the sequel to last year's Best Picture winner, Going My Way: she plays a nun who occasionally butts heads with Bing Crosby's Father O'Malley. Greer Garson was nominated last year, too, and here she was for the fifth time in a row, having won once for 1942's Mrs. Miniver: she plays the daughter of an embittered former worker who works for, and falls in love with the son of, the man her father worked for and hates. Jennifer Jones was nominated for Supporting Actress last year, but this was her third nomination in a row, having won for 1943's The Song of Bernadette (she came back the next year, too): she plays an amnesiac who may have murdered her husband. Gene Tierney is the only nominee who got a one-and-done, but it's worth noting that her role in Leave Her to Heaven came about due to the success of last year's Laura, in which she played Laura: here she plays a woman so obsessed with her husband, she tries to isolate him by any means necessary.

My ranking, from fifth to first.

The Comeback: Best Supporting Actor, 1945

These are your nominees for Best Supporting Actor at the 18th Academy Awards:

Michael Chekhov, Spellbound

John Dall, The Corn is Green

James Dunn, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Robert Mitchum, Story of GI Joe

J. Carrol Naish, A Medal for Benny

Let's go through them one by one.

Michael Chekhov was a Russian actor and director who studied under the legendary acting teacher Stanislavski; he was also the nephew of the playwright Anton Chekhov. As an acting teacher, his work influenced Marilyn Monroe, Elia Kazan, Yul Brynner, Clint Eastwood, Johnny Depp, and more. Spellbound was his fourth Hollywood film, having come to America when "tensions" broke out in Europe. He plays Dr. Alexander Brulov, an old mentor of Ingrid Bergman’s heroine, who provides a safe haven and professional advice to help her.

John Dall was a young American stage actor who starred in both the touring and Broadway productions of The Eve of St. Mark, a performance that earned him a screen test with Warner Bros, which led to his film debut, The Corn is Green. He plays Morgan Evans, a young Welsh miner who seems consigned to a life of work and drink until he starts taking classes with the new schoolteacher Miss Moffat, who sees in him a preternatural gift for writing.

James Dunn was a born-and-bred Manhattanite who, as a child, cut classes to go to the movies; as an adult, he joined theatrical troupes and eventually landed the lead in Sweet Adeline on Broadway, which led to his contract with Fox. He made his debut as the leading man in Frank Borzage's Bad Girl, which was nominated for Best Picture and won Best Director and Best Adaptation. Despite this and a trio of hits with Shirley Temple, his star waned as he sank deeper into alcoholism. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn was his comeback film, playing the loving patriarch of an impoverished family, a struggling actor who drinks too much. He won the Academy Award.

A boxer, a steelworker, a writer, a lyricist, and an actor, Robert Mitchum had already established himself with 25 films between 1943 and 1944, including Cry 'Havoc' (uncredited), When Strangers Marry (as Bob), and Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo. Loaned by RKO to Lester Cowan, he was cast as Captain Bill Walker, a character inspired by Captain Henry T. Waskow, the subject of one of war correspondent Ernie Pyle’s more famous columns. It and many others were adapted to make up the  Story of GI Joe.

J. Carrol Naish was the definition of a character actor. Despite his purely Irish heritage, his dark, swarthy looks saw him cast as every ethnicity except Irish - Italians, Mexicans, Native Americans, Chinese, Arabs - which he portrayed in supporting parts and cameos, credited and uncredited, in a prolific career that spanned over 40 years and over 128 films! In A Medal for Benny, he plays a Paisano - "of mixed Indian and Spanish Blood" - whose ne'erdowell son is awarded a posthumous medal of bravery.

My ranking of these nominees, from fifth to first:

The Last of It: 1945, Part Nine

November and December 1945. By the end of the year, the Nuremberg Trials begin, revolution breaks out in Indonesia, and 51 nations join the United Nations. The year began with a world at war and ended with a world determined to find peace, even as some nations were still struggling to establish their independence from colonial rule (not just Indonesia; India was also trying to get the Brits out, while civil war continued in China).

Hollywood-wise, the heavy-hitters at the Oscars all came from the last two months of the year. Deliberately saved 'til the last minute by the studios, or just recency bias from weary voters momentarily looking up from post-War news? Whatever the reason, eleven of the twelve following films wound up nominated for Academy Awards:

Strike!: 1945, Part Eight

October 1945. Now that the war's officially over, there's some tidying up to do. Remaining Japanese troops in Taiwan surrender, the Nazi Party is officially dissolved, and 29 countries come together to establish the United Nations, making Woodrow Wilson's dream a reality; throughout the year, more will join. 

In Hollywood, a six-month strike by the Set Decorators' union came to a head as a fight broke out between scabs, police, Warner Bros. security, and 300 strikers. The fallout contributed to the passage of the Taft-Hartley Act in 1946, limiting the power of labor unions, and the slow dissolution of the Conference of Studio Unions, which spearheaded the strike.

Though the strike caused delays on films like Duel in the Sun, for the most part, studios had a backlog of films to release. The month Hollywood Black Friday occurred, here's what the output looked like:

Bangers, All: 1945, Part Seven

August and September 1945. This is the end of the War. In August, the atomic bombs are dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and Emperor Hirohito steps down in acceptance of the Potsdam Declaration. That same month, the British government is lobbied by the Zionist World Congress regarding the creation of Israel, while in Vietnam, the Viet Minh takes over Hanoi, sparking the August Revolution. The French are driven to the South by September, dividing the country in two. September also sees this happening in Korea, where in the North, the Soviets begin trumpeting Kim Il Sung as a war hero, while in the South, an American Military Government is established. The stage is now set for the next century of conflicts. War, it never ends...

Stateside at the movies, meanwhile...: 

Wives and Lovers: 1945, Part Six

July 1945. Berlin is divided between East and West, a situation that will remain in place until 1990. The Philippines are officially liberated. The Japanese begin peace negotiations, and the Potsdam Conference avers that there will be no negotiations, but rather unconditional surrender. And the first atomic bomb is successfully tested in New Mexico, ushering in the atomic age.

And at the cinemas, we were celebrating Christmas in July:

Good and Bad Propaganda: 1945, Part Five

May and June 1945. The War in Europe is over. The enemies have surrendered, high-ranking Nazi officials have killed themselves, prisoners are taken...some, like the rocket scientists, are adopted, their skills being of use to the Allies. But the War in the Pacific is still going, though by June 21, the US scores a victory at Okinawa. It will take some time before the production of war films slows down, and they'll never really go away, not for this war. Still, you can sense that Hollywood saw the end was near, for even considering when things must have filmed before their release dates, only five of the thirteen films below deal with the war, even ephemerally...

Death of a Dictator: 1945, Part Four

April 1945. The Battle of Okinawa begins. President Franklin D. Roosevelt dies, and Harry S. Truman becomes President of the United States. Buchenwald and Bergen-Belsen are liberated. Mussolini and his intimates are publicly executed. Hitler privately commits suicide in his bunker. That's one month: April 1st, Battle of Okinawa; April 30th, Hitler's suicide. 

And in this single month with all this history...here are the movies we got:

A Director's Debut: 1945, Part Three

February and March 1945. Overseas, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin meet for the Yalta Conference, where they plot not just peace but how to carve up the world to best satisfy their respective empires once the war ends. On his return, Roosevelt addresses Congress for what will be his last time. The Battle of Iwo Jima rages across five weeks, while the Battle of Manila lasts exactly one month and ends in liberation for the Philippines' capital. Secret negotiations between the SS and the CIA for the surrender of Axis areas begin. Tokyo is devastated in a two-day bombing raid that kills 100,000 citizens, the most destructive air attack of the War.

And back in Hollywood? Well, in March, the 17th Academy Awards are held, resulting in Going My Way winning Best Picture (and more, as you know). March also saw the feature film debut of Elia Kazan.

Kazan was no stranger to Hollywood, he already had at least two films under his belt, including Blues in the Night...but as an actor. That's what he studied at Yale, and that's what he pursued when he joined the Group Theatre in 1932 - he continued in that vocation even as he began his career as a stage director. After appearing in the film Blues in the Night in 1941, he directed the legendary original production of Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth, starring Tallulah Bankhead and Fredric March. So, he becomes a greater director than actor, and takes the Hollywood job that still keeps him close to the spirit of New York, even if it's filmed on the Fox soundstages: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. His first film, and it wins an Oscar. But we'll get into that later this month.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn came out amid a Disney anthology, a "prestige horror" production, and Universal programmers for Abbott & Costello and Holmes & Watson. See for yourself:

The Horse and His Girl: 1945, Part Two

January 1945. Seven months after Allied forces land on the beaches of Normandy, the War continues, but the end is nigh. The Nazis are running. France hasn't been overrun by the Vichy collaborators since the previous August. MacArthur's returned to the Phillippines. And halfway through the month, Hitler's in the bunker.

And Hollywood? The entertainment continued, as did the war films, as did the not-war-but-totally-wink-wink-The War films. As you can see:

The Burn-Off: 1945, Part One

These are films that qualified for the 1945 Academy Awards but for which I could only find 1944 release dates. Nine in all - consider this our last hurrah for '44 and our first bit of '45:

Right After That: 1945, An Intro

Our look at film years wherein Alfred Hitchcock was Oscar-nominated for Best Director continues with 1945. Just last week, we wrapped up 1944, a year in which Hitchcock lost to Leo McCarey for Going My Way, a juggernaut that took home seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture. 

The 1944 Retro Hollmann Awards, Part Two

With my Top Ten decided, and Part One already posted, it's time to put 1944 to bed. Here are my winners and nominees for the 1944 Retro Hollmann Awards:

The 1944 Retro Hollmann Awards, Part One

With my Top Ten decided, it's time to put 1944 to bed. Here are my winners and nominees for the 1944 Retro Hollmann Awards:

(Figuring Out) My Top Ten of 1944

I have been going back and forth with this Top Ten for days. I miss deadlines constantly, but that's usually laziness; this one has been an actual struggle. How do I narrow my list of thirteen down to just ten - and what do I say about them?

The 1944 Longlists

Semi-finalists in 17 categories, 10-15 each. For Best Picture, refer to the Top Ten.

Hitch Limits Himself: Best Director, 1944

The 17th Academy Awards' nominees for Best Director are:

Alfred Hitchcock, Lifeboat

Henry King, Wilson

Leo McCarey, Going My Way

Otto Preminger, Laura

Billy Wilder, Double Indemnity

Hitchcock is the reason we're here. This month, next month, and the month after that, I'm focusing on 1944, 1945, and 1960, years where he was nominated for Best Director (we've already covered 1940 and 1954). 

Having read Patrick McGilligan's Alfred Hitchcock: A Life in Darkness and Light - and perused, without finishing, Leonard J. Leff's Hitchcock and Selznick - earlier this year, I...won't say I'm expert on Hitchcock, but I have some context. Context I hope to share, accurately, with you, dear reader. Both tell of how Hitchcock was the wünderkind of British cinema, having worked his way up from title writer and art director to film director, even learning the ropes from the visionaries of German Expressionism. But by the 1930s, those German visionaries had been run out by the Nazis, while British cinema was famously very limited regarding resources. It was difficult for a man of Hitchcock's vision to get the films he wanted to make, made in the way he wanted to make them, and already by the mid-1930s, he was looking to Hollywood. He secured the services of Myron Selznick as his agent and, would you believe, the best offer came via Myron's brother David O. Selznick and his independent Selznick International - amazing!

Hitchcock came to the United States with a New York Film Critics Circle Award (for The Lady Vanishes) and 26 films already under his belt. He was no novice. Yet, apparently, there was little joy in the making of his first American film, the very British Rebecca, since David O. had a very heavy hand in production, and Hitchcock was used to doing his own thing. Fortunately, it was possible to be loaned out to other studios - thus 20th Century-Fox and the making of Lifeboat.

Hitchcock makes a cheeky cameo

This was Hitch's half-realization of his dream project, which was to explore the tensions and joys among sex and race and class in a single space (the full realization would have been a film about twelve hours in one of those famous London parks, either Kensington or Covent, I forget). The desire was retooled a few times throughout his career, but he was able to scratch that itch within a timely wartime milieu with Lifeboat, an original concept that saw a glamorous journalist, a tycoon, several shipmates, a mother, a nurse, and a Nazi, all thrown together for 97 minutes. Execs, and some critics, balked at what they saw as noble treatment of the Nazi (as always, a critique says more about the viewer than about the filmmaker), and the film was dropped at the end of January 1944 to disastrous box office. Nevertheless, it managed three Academy Award nominations, a spot in the National Board of Review's Top Ten Films of 1944, and the NYFCC Award for Best Actress for Tallulah Bankhead in her first real screen performance since 1932.

Were those accolades all due to Hitchcock? Did he deserve this nomination? I've ranked the nominated directors from fifth to first:

Five Is Enough: Best Picture, 1944

The 1st Academy Awards had three nominees for Outstanding Production (plus another three for Artistic Quality of Production, though the Academy only acknowledges Outstanding Production as the first Best Picture nominees). The field expanded very shortly after: the 2nd-4th Academy Awards had five nominees; the 5th had eight; the 6th had ten; the 7th and 8th had twelve; and things seemed settled when the ten-wide Best Picture lineup lasted from the 9th Academy Awards through the 16th Academy Awards. 

Come 1944, a new shakeup: five nominees for Best Picture, no more and no less, a tradition that lasted over 60 years and ended with the ten-wide selection of the 82nd Academy Awards. This, even as the individual Music categories (Score, Musical Score, Song) were tallying anywhere between 11 and 21 nominees! For the inaugural year of this new standard, which for many of us is still the standard (damn the past 18 years!), these were the nominees:

Double Indemnity

Paramount Pictures

Gaslight

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Going My Way

Paramount Pictures

Since You Went Away

Selznick International

Wilson

20th Century-Fox

A noir about an insurance agent who is wrapped up in a murder plot with an undeniable dame. A thriller about a newlywed whose husband may be purposely driving her mad for his own purposes. A light comedy about a young priest and an old priest clashing. A wartime drama about the experiences of the wives and children back home. A biopic about the President of the United States who dreamed of a united world and was castigated for it.

We’ve discussed elements of each of these films, and so I’ve linked their tags so that you can see everything I had to say about them beforehand. And now, my rankings, from fifth to first: