Back in Time

It's August 2nd, folks, so I figure now is as good a time as any to let you in one the plan.

Remember about a year ago, when I did back-to-back trips through the Wayback Machine? It was 1974, and I thought Lenny was better than The Godfather: Part II....then it was 1964, and I supported the Academy's backing of Rex Harrison for Best Actor....

The 1964 Hollmann Awards: The Majors

Wow, what a long delay. I certainly hope that built the suspense some. The screenplays, the actors, song, director...and of course: BEST PICTURE. Let's delay this no longer:

The 1964 Hollmann Awards, Part One: The Technicals!

We've made it to the first part of my 1964 Hollmann Awards! First up are the technical awards, but let's ease our way into it with some familiar faces:

The 1964 Finalists!

Two months and 52 films later...here we are: The finalists for the 1964 Hollmann Awards. Some caveats before we begin: there were nineteen original screenplay contenders that I whittled down to fifteen, so...I guess it's not that representative of a group. And as for special effects, I had to keep it down to seven finalists, what with the limited number of contenders there. And I won't be separating the crafts into color/black-and-white, which may seem unfair for cinematography (advantage: B&W) and costume (advantage: color), but you have to kill your darlings. It's the right thing to do.

The Last Laugh: Best Picture, 1964

So it's all come down to this, has it? We are finally here, at the nominees for Best Picture. I have to commend the Academy on this one. All five of the films here are legendary, and deservedly so. It's a strong crop, probably the strongest group of nominees besides Art Direction - Color. True, I wasn't crazy for Zorba, but I can still respect it, you know? I have to say, though, I was not expecting it to come down to the movies it's come down to. Perhaps you realized it already, but I...I'm surprised. And I'm sure I'll be surprised by my final decision, too.

Once again, I have illustrated the contenders with my favorite scenes/moments. Enjoy.

The martyr came on horseback

Becket

****

One of my great surprises with this project came rather early: it was the first film I watched. And man, did it ever deliver. This dramatization of the friendship between Henry II and Thomas a Becket only has a general idea of the events, but I'll take a finely-crafted, well-told narrative over the truth any day (see also my adoration of Public Enemies). I'm always impressed by period pieces that seem fresh, exciting and still-pertinent; in Becket, much of the dramatic tension derives from the struggle between church and state. The actors are at the top of their game, starting with Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole in the lead roles. I rarely expect a period drama based on a play to excite me so with its shot design, but Becket certainly moved me in this regard. Oh, and it's fun. But then, with Burton and O'Toole in the leads, you must have known that.

About fluoridation....

Dr. Strangelove, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

****

This fourth viewing finally confirmed a number of points for me. It's both hilariously absurd and scarily real, a testament to the strengths of script and direction. That said, it's pretty uneven -- the plane scenes get tedious sometimes, George C. Scott's scenery-chewing actually takes away from a lot of the comedy, Dr. Strangelove is just bizarre. Still, the fact that Strangelove, President Merkin Muffley and Group Captain Lionel Mandrake are all Peter Sellers just gets more impressive and impossible with each viewing. The contributions of cinematographer Gilbert Taylor and art director Ken Adam cannot be praised enough.

Go fly a kite

Mary Poppins

*****

I wish more movies could provide the wonderful balance Mary Poppins does. There's a time for fun, and a time for seriousness; you gotta loosen up, but you can't shirk responsibilities; Mr. Banks is too strict, but his children are too unfocused. Ok, so it has its heart and mind in the right place, but there's so much more: wonderful songs, brilliant effects that still impress, a game cast that delivers, watchable child actors! The fact that the whole thing was shot indoors -- on a soundstage! -- amazes me, constantly. I mean, really: this has a more perfect sunset shot than most outdoor films! Well, now that I think about it, that makes sense, since they could control it, but let's not allow that to distract from my main point: the Poppins. Wow.

The flower-girl reborn

My Fair Lady

*****

I. LOVE. THIS. MOVIE. Always have, always will. Look, I'll try to remain as unbiased as possible, but this is one of my all-time favorites, hands-down. It's gorgeously designed and fantastically acted. Yeah, it gets a little draggy, and those "outdoor" sequences are clearly on a soundstage (if only they had the matte painters of Mary Poppins!), and no matter how amusing Stanley Holloway's Alfie Doolittle is, his scenes are rather distracting and random. But are these not small prices to pay in return for the great triumvirate of Harrison/Hepburn/Hyde-White? For the Ascot Gavotte? For that Embassy Ball sequence, wherein Hepburn and the music are at their most beautiful? The film sends me in a way only a few others send me.

The dance

Zorba the Greek

***

I don't want to say I was disappointed, but I didn't love it. I don't have to love everything, and I know it's especially difficult when a film is as melancholy as this one, but I do wish I liked this movie more. Even more of a shame: I don't know why I feel such an emotional distance, since everything is well-done. It deserves all the praise it's received in its crafts, its direction, its acting. Perhaps it's my feeling that the savagery happens too suddenly. Perhaps it's my reluctance to accept the character of Basil, the colorless English gent who remains limp until the last scene. Maybe I just couldn't gel with Zorba. Whatever the reason, I just wasn't buying what they were selling.

--------------------

Oscar loved itself some My Fair Lady...and I find myself torn between it and Mary Poppins. Both have equally great performances, scripts (even if My Fair Lady is just the stage libretto...it's a damn good one), costumes, cinematography. My Fair Lady has better costumes and songs, but Mary Poppins is better-directed with better sets. The heart wants what it wants, so...what does it want? I refuse to declare a tie, that's for sure, but it's so tempting. Ok, bite the bullet. The Oscar goes to...

MY FAIR LADY

why yes, indeed, you did it, you did it, you did it

Singin', Screwin', Seancin': Actress, 1964

I am so excited to have finally finally FINALLY gotten a hold of Seance on a Wet Afternoon so that I could finish this! Thanks to my roommate, whose recent decision to get Hulu Plus put the movie right in our laps. Or on our television screen. Or, you know, whatever.

Mais first, a little chat about this category, because I do love this category so. One of the most famous tales told of this year is how Audrey Hepburn, star of Best Picture winner My Fair Lady, lost in a shocker to Julie Andrews for Mary Poppins. Of course, like many legends, it's one steeped in a lot of misconceptions and misunderstandings. For one thing, Hepburn wasn't even nominated. For another, while the film was a hit, Hepburn and many critics felt that she was dreadfully miscast in the role -- she was already 33 when cast as 21-year-old Eliza Doolittle, and her howling, screeching performance in the first half embarrassed her (she's very wrong, it's one of her best performances because it's so opposite her usual usual). Of course, we must also remember that Andrews created the role in London and on Broadway, and there was a lot of bad feeling when Warner Bros. didn't even audition her for the film. Sympathy for Andrews, ambivalence towards Hepburn, and the qaulity of Mary Poppins itself led to one of the most legendary Oscar wins in history.

But then there are four other nominees: Sophia Loren in the Italian-language Marriage Italian Style, a wonderful comedy that loses steam in its final third; Anne Bancroft in the English character study The Pumpkin Eater, Andrews' main competition for the prize; Debbie Reynolds in the movie-musical The Unsinkable Molly Brown; and American theatre legend Kim Stanley in the independent suspense drama Seance on a Wet Afternoon, a performance as highly-acclaimed today as it was then. And the end, there's only one thing that matters in these blog posts...after your own reactions of course. And that is: what does Walter think of it all?

Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins 

*****

Andrews really is "practically perfect in every way". Her characterization of Mary is sweet without being nauseating, somewhat impish, surprisingly stern, a lot of fun. The way she just waltzes in and takes control as though she were lady of the manor is amusing and telling -- she may be a magical, mischievous nanny, but she is the boss. I love the way she resists Bert's suggestions of frivolity, only to give in and be the happier for it. Andrews also has to show affection for both Bert and the children without outright stating it, and you can see this subtly done in a number of scenes, most notably in the entire chalk sequence and "Stay Awake". Good thing, too, because otherwise that ending with the umbrella is meaningless.

Anne Bancroft in The Pumpkin Eater

**

The film has a promising screenplay and great performances from Peter Finch and James Mason. I give it that. I suppose I can also see where Anne Bancroft's performance as a self-destructive baby factory (how many fucking kids does she have? 23?) could be called subtle. But I would call it anemic and repetitive. Admittedly, the promise in the script does not extend to the characterization of its lead, so Bancroft is only called to run through the gamut of jealousy and anxiety over and over and over and over.... Couldn't she at least change up the expression once in a while? She's quite effective in the beginning, in scenes with Maggie Smith, at the party, and with James Mason. If only there was more!
 

Sophia Loren in Marriage Italian Style

****

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Such a funny, sexy, complex performance I did not expect! Loren is obsessively in love with caddish Marcello Mastroianni, who's kept her as his mistress for twenty years. She is adorable in the flashbacks, heartbreaking in the present, and unbelievably beautiful throughout. Ah, but she is also not afraid to grey it up, go without makeup, age herself as her character ages. As she lays dying at the film's beginning, you've never seen such a sad, sickly creature in your life. The script gets repetitive in the last third, insisting she intone again and again, "You will never know." It's to Loren's credit that she can vary it as much as she does. What an incredible performance!

Debbie Reynolds in The Unsinkable Molly Brown

***

The film chronicles Molly Brown's rise from ill-mannered mountain girl to toast of the town/survivor of the Titanic. Reynolds illustrates this change by giving us two Molly Browns: a screeching banshee that should have been drowned at birth, and a refined lady with emotions (!) subtly conveyed (!!). If you can get past that first act -- and if Harve Presnell managed it, so can you -- you'll be rewarded with a not-too-shabby performance in an all right film. It's not earth-shattering, but she gets the job done.

Kim Stanley in Seance on a Wet Afternoon

*****

One of those terrifying performances so disturbingly layered you can't separate the person from the performance. Stanley is Myra Savage, a psychic who so believes in her powers but is unsatisfied with her modest, weekly seance circle with the same gullible old biddies. She hatches a plan to kidnap a child and use her "psychic" powers to aid the police, insisting the whole time to her weak husband that the plan is actually the mysterious Arthur's. And Stanley plays this terrifying woman with such conviction that you believe the filmmakers have caught a madwoman on film. Myra believes completely in her brilliance and abilities, knowing she's far too smart to get caught or make a mistake. Stanley uses a soft, childlike tone as Myra, which already makes her sound like a screw loose. Then the way she suddenly takes charge of a situation with her eyes is intimidating. And, of course, the final seance scene is masterful, one that makes you question sanity, reality and the supernatural. Bizarre and brilliant.


---------------------------

Um, I know this is rare, unheard-of Oscar trivia, but did you know that Julie Andrews won the Academy Award? Just checking. Of course, I love The Poppins to bits, but I must say I'm tempted by another....and so it is that I award the Oscar to:

KIM STANLEY

for

SEANCE ON A WET AFTERNOON

crazy, creepy, and all too human

Why Can't I Live There: Art Direction, 1964 - Part 2

We're winding down with only three categories to go! And have you ever seen technicals given so close to Best Picture? Only at the Silver Screening Room, folks, where we love you no matter what you do. Let's leave the flouncey, flowery speeches for writing awards, though, because this category's all about the visual spectacle -- IN COLOR!

BECKET

John Bryan, production designer

Maurice Carter, art director

Robert Cartwright/Patrick McLoughlin, set decorators

***

The dark chambers of old are brought to dank life by this talented group. They don't try to glamorize the time, but instead get every exact period detail just so. It's sparse yet effective.

MARY POPPINS

 Carroll Clarke/William H. Tuntke, art directors

Hal Gausman/Emile Kuri, set decorators

*****

From a messy children's room to a British bank to the rooftops of London to the street outside, everything is meticulously created on a soundstage by the Disney builders. Admiral Boom's ship-shape home, the changing of seasons, the terrifying alleyways...such a superb attention to detail in every scene!

MY FAIR LADY

 Cecil Beaton, production designer

Gene Allen, art director

George James Hopkins, set decorator

****

The sets for Higgin's house, his street, his mother's house, the freeking Embassy Ball - excellent! I do think it's quite apparent that the outdoor scenes are on a soundstage, though, since much of the set dressing is not as detailed, and "all" the buildings look exactly the same. Shame, that. Still, quite a good job on the whole.

THE UNSINKABLE MOLLY BROWN

 Preston Ames/George W. Davis, art directors

Henry Grace/Hugh Hunt, set decorators

****

It's certainly done right! From the ramshackle cabins to the garish red mansion, the path from rags to riches relies on Debbie Reynolds, the costumers...and the art directors. They do a wonderful job, really, especially in differentiating the styles between nouveau riche and anciens. The Titanic is clearly a set, and that's the fakest iceberg I've ever seen, but why quibble over one or two shots when we've got that wonderful mansion?

WHAT A WAY TO GO!

Ted Haworth/Jack Martin Smith, art directors

Stuart A. Reiss/Walter M. Scott, set decorators

*****

Nothing about this film is real, so just relax and enjoy the fantasy. These sets are meant to be SETS, and they clearly had a lot of fun here. Silent film shacks, nouvelle vague lofts, Sirkian mansions, art deco psychiatrist offices -- this film has it all and then some.

--------------------------

My Fair Lady won the Oscar, as it was performing a sweep. But friends, much as I love the film, there's another what ought to get the kudos. 

CLARKE, ET. AL.

for

MARY POPPINS

oh my God, they built that on a soundstage?

This Silver is Gold: Cinematography, 1964 - Part Two

Some movies refuse to be seen. I caught the last fifteen minutes of Fate is the Hunter months and months ago on Turner Classic Movies, and since then I've searched for it in vain. I don't order from Amazon, I get my movies from the library, Netflix or YouTube -- money and all that. But sometimes you just got to admit defeat, and Fate is the Hunter has bested me in this regard. I won't judge an entire film's cinematography based on the fifteen minutes I saw, but the show must go on. Because of this, you'll find only four of the nominees rated here, and one abstention.

But, hey -- look how gorgeous the rest of these films are! This is, after all, the Black-and-White Cinematography category. Let the beauty wash over you...

THE AMERICANIZATION OF EMILY

 Philip H. Lathrop, director of photography

**

Really, except for these stills from the film's climax, I didn't find the work all that remarkable or challenging. Still, what's done is done well, and the film is great, besides.

FATE IS THE HUNTER

ABSTAIN

Milton R. Krasner, director of photography

 HUSH...HUSH, SWEET CHARLOTTE

 Joseph F. Biroc, director of photography

****

Those shadows and candles and silhouettes provide much of the creep factor of Charlotte. Biroc works real magic with this horror piece. God, I love that shot above with Charlotte in light and her cousin (that "vile, sorry little bitch") in shadow. Even when we cut to her coverage, Miriam is still a little...shady? Shall we say?

THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA

Gabriel Figueroa, director of photography

*****

By day, it is so bright that you feel the heat, the sun and the sand. By night, the moon provides the only illumination as Burton and Kerr engage in some serious soul-searching...and Gardner in some serious sex-dancing. It's so so so so gorgeous.

ZORBA THE GREEK

Walter Lassally, director of photography

****

Goddam I love the technicals of this film. Look at that. It's moody, it's beautiful, it's its own story. The conspirators in shadow, the heroes in light. It's cinematography with meaning, man.

----------------------------------------

Lassally won the Oscar. Of course he won the Oscar. Not only was his a Best Pic nominee but..I mean..look at that. Still, you know that my heart belongs to another.

GABRIEL FIGUEROA

for

THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA

 so sensual

From the Brain to the Screen: Original Screenplay, 1964

Apologies for my absence and the long delay of my 1964 project. I'm keeping quite busy in my new hometown: filming in the desert, sprucing up a production office for a day, figuring out my neighborhood. It's all fantastic and fun, of course -- and I can't believe it's already been a month! -- but it do take time. Then, too, it's proving mighty difficult to find all the nominees from 1964, as many were never distributed for home viewing. Fortunately, I have friends like my roommates and The Oscar Completist who show me where I can get the hard-to-find. It is thanks especially to the latter that I can continue this project with the Original Screenplay category.

It's an interesting category this year, too, since the majority of the films here have been forgotten. I'd never heard of The Organizer, One Potato, Two Potato, Father Goose or That Man from Rio before I started this project, and only Goose and A Hard Day's Night saw nominations in other categories. Comedy dominates, with only one drama -- a look at an interracial marriage and the resulting custody battle -- getting a nomination. There are two foreign films, a star vehicle, two screwball comedies, an indie, and the Beatles. What a time!

Peter Stone and Frank Tarloff, story by S.H. Barnett, for Father Goose

****

Just a freeking delight. A boozy American living in the Pacific Islands during World War II is tricked into staying on a lonely island to spot aircraft...only to wind up in charge of a group of schoolgirls and their sexy teacher. You read that synopsis and think "what the what?" yet the film really sells it. The screenplay takes its time with the romance between Father Goose and the teacher, building their relationship with each other -- and the children -- so that the climax is earned instead of rote. A little sexist at times, it at least allows for the idea that both its protagonists are flawed and need to adjust their ways. The dialogue just kills, too. Of course, the delivery by Cary Grant is what really sells it, but you gotta love exchanges like: "You stepped on my foot."/"You put it under mine."

Alun Owen for A Hard Day's Night

***

Vignettes are interrupted by great tunes, with the main plot thread being a televised concert special that serves as the film's climax (obviously, this was later remade as Spice World). Self-aware, nonsensical, madcap. I ding it a star because a large part of what's on screen is improvised, but Alun Owen did provide a strong framework on which they could build their puns and absurdities. The exchange between John Lennon and Anna Quayle is hilarious, and Paul's grandfather is such a bizarre creation that one must applaud all involved.

Orville H. Hampton and Raphael Hayes for One Potato, Two Potato

**

A white divorcee falls for and marries a black man; her racist ex-husband arrives to take custody of their daughter. Most of the characters are fully-realized, three-dimensional human beings -- even the ex is given an entire scene to himself where he battles with his conscious and pride. And there's no shying away from an ending that really is powerful and depressing. And they mean well. But while there's plenty of time devoted to the romance and the custody battle, not enough time is spent in the in-between. If the entire thing is framed by the idea that the interracial home is a healthier environment for the child than what her birth-father can provide, shouldn't we actually get to see her in that home? More time could be devoted to the characters as a couple instead of a symbol; see, while most of the characters are fully-realized, three-dimensional human beings...the leads are not! It could have been so much more...

Mario Monicelli and Age & Scarpelli for The Organizer

*****

An engaging, angry, surprisingly funny ensemble film about a professor who organizes the mistreated workers of a textile factory. I felt like I came to know and love everyone at the factory, from fat Pautasso to mannish Cesarina to beautiful Bianca to the child whose name escapes me but who is the real heart of the picture. There is a fantastic scene in which he beats his little brother for doing poorly in school, chastising him for not bettering himself so that he can escape the dead-end factory life. I love the moments of lightheartedness that allow us to believe in these people as people, ones who have worked and lived together for decades. There is a true camaraderie, even when some of them disappoint and betray the cause. It's a beautiful film.

Daniel Boulanger, Philippe de Broca, Ariane Mnouchkine and Jean-Paul Rappeneau for That Man from Rio

**

I'm going to hazard a guess that a lot was lost in translation. This tedious, unfunny French film, a precursor to the Indiana Jones and Joan Wilder films, follows a man as he tracks his fiancee's kidnappers to Rio, where idols, curses, gangsters and other stuff all come into play. The screenplay never shies away from the unpleasantness of its lead characters, clearly cynical about these adventure "heroes" of old. Still, it's an idea that I don't think is fully developed, especially since the film frequently goes from light-hearted romp to full-on zaniness without warning (he chases speeding cars on foot...twice). The indecision as to tone negatively effects a promising story, leaving us with a sketchy ideas ploddingly executed.

--------------------------------------

Father Goose won the Oscar this year -- deservedly so. I have to say, when it came to winners, they chose well this year. It helps that so much of '64's cinematic landscape was...lacking. Anyway, even though I love Father Goose, I will hand the trophy over to someone else entirely.

MONICELLI (pictured), AGE & SCARPELLI

for

THE ORGANIZER

you can be socially conscious and funny!

Food of Love, Indeed: Original Score, 1964

The wrong music can kill a film (Aaron Zigman's The Proposal). Luckily, '64 had it mostly right. Two Best Picture nominees appear here, of course, but there's also Mancini's most famous work, a make-up to De Vol for the Baby Jane snub two years earlier, and legendary composer Tiomkin's thirteenth nomination in the category! Let us begin!

Laurence Rosenthal for Becket
***

Appropriately righteous in flavor and, as befits the church, subdued. The holy chants echo throughout the film, and the big brass is only used when needed. The strings in this particular piece, like a gathering storm, are particularly effective.

Dimitri Tiomkin for The Fall of the Roman Empire
**

I love these old historical epics, with the big orchestra proudly proclaiming its importance. Tiomkin certainly succeeds in bombast, even if he falls a little short of memorable.

Frank De Vol for Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte
***

The titular theme is frequently revisited, but we also get those horror trappings of eerie violins, chimes and harpsichords. Gothic grand guignol at its best!

Robert and Richard Sherman for Mary Poppins

****

One can just refer to my write-up in Adapted Score, as that's what's really being nominated here. The score is fantastic, of course, though I still think it's strange that there are two separate categories for the same work. Eh, bask in the beauty and ignore all else.

Henry Mancini for The Pink Panther

*****

Iconic. We all know the "Pink Panther" theme, and this is where it all began. Not that it rests on those laurels alone, though, with some slinky lounge music to set the mood for those Claudia Cardinale scenes, the sexy "It Had Better Be Tonight", and comical Sennett-esque music for the chase scenes.

-----------------------------------

Hard to argue with the Oscar bestowed on the Sherman Brothers for their iconic work in Mary Poppins. But I will. The Oscar goes to....

HENRY MANCINI

for

THE PINK PANTHER

if it's gonna win an Oscar, it had better be tonight

It's All About Men: Actor, 1964

Once again, the members of the Academy selected from their group of five. Alas, Becket's two-lead combo and the backlash against Dick Van Dyke's cockney accent in Mary Poppins meant that only four of the five Best Picture/Best Director/Best Adapted Screenplay nominees were represented here. Still, what a strong lineup this is, with three actors giving career-defining performances, and the other two just rocking it!

Richard Burton in Becket

****

Burton is our titular hero, and it's one of his most subdued and effective performances. He believably plays the arc from jocular kinsman to reluctant Archbishop to stubborn saint -- believably and, what's more, effectively. You just stare in wonder at the man Burton creates, a man humbled by his rise in station who chooses to do his job, even at the expense of those who put him there...even at the expense of his own feelings. Reluctant yet firm, Burton's Becket is the kind of saint I can get behind -- an all too human one. His private plea to God during his first night as Archbishop is powerful, beautiful stuff.

Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady

*****

What Harrison succeeds in bringing to Higgins is balance. It's very easy to play this role too much one way or the other, either too friendly or too snotty or too warm or too cold. Harrison presents a likable yet sometimes boorish man, completely oblivious to anyone's feelings but his own, yet also totally un-self-aware. He is honest, tactless, sporting, cruel, funny and irritating. And when Harrison gets a gleam in his eye, or smiles more warmly than usual, we see -- ever so subtly -- Higgins' fondness for Eliza, even if he has yet to realize it. Harrison's lack of singing voice is a great boon to his characterization, too, as it allows him to bring a relish to every syllable he utters. Higgins loves language, but he's in love with how it sounds coming from him.

Peter O'Toole in Becket

***

A co-lead that's borderline supporting, O'Toole plays Henry II with infectious energy and entitled cruelty. He also, quite clearly and wisely, plays him as in love with Becket. You can see it in the way O'Toole watches Burton, in the jealous glare that comes over his face when he sees his friend with women. True, sometimes that boisterous posturing and indignant shouting get to be repetitive in scenes without Burton (good Lord, I thought that final dinner was never going to end), but when the two are sharing the screen, O'Toole is on fire.

Anthony Quinn in Zorba the Greek

***

Well, Quinn definitely earned a place here. He plays his role so naturally that one almost forgets that this is a Mexican-born Hollywood star and not a Greek everyman. Zorba's selfishness and selflessness feel more consistent with Quinn than as written. His joie de vivre is deeply felt, and you can see that this is a man who has lived. Not just those scars and the stories he tells, but in his sympathetic eyes when he sees another outsider. He's been there.

Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove 

***** 

It's a difficult performance to judge, since it's three performances that take us through the tonal switches of the narrative. As Wing Commander Mandrake, RAF, Sellers plays it straight, the only one without an agenda. His logic, incredulity and horror ground the story, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. As President Merkin Muffley, Sellers is almost too straight-faced, bringing us into the more satirical element of the screenplay. His president is forgetful, worrisome, befuddled, a little childish, and almost hopeless, a nice guy who's in way over his head. As mad ex-Nazi Dr. Strangelove, Sellers goes for full-on parody, with a ridiculous accent and a hand with a mind of its own. This is the man in charge with assuring our survival, so of course Sellers goes all-out with his ridiculous characterization, an absurd character to bring us to the impossible finale. It's an ingenious structure and a one-of-a-kind performance.

-----------------------------------

Harrison won the Academy Award for reprising his Broadway role of Henry Higgins. And it's a close one for me, but in the end I must give my own Oscar vote to...

REX HARRISON

for

MY FAIR LADY

consider this my hymn to him

All the Single Ladies: Supporting Actress, 1964

Ah, Supporting Actress! I can't believe there was once a time when other categories seemed to matter. When Stinky Lulu devoted himself to those Actresses at the Edges, it was as though the clouds had lifted and all was revealed. "Of course!" I realized. "This is the greatest category ever!" Truth: the first time I made a conscious decision to sit down and watch the Oscars, it was because of Best Supporting Actress (Smith/Mirren/Connelly/Tomei/Winslet). My five favorite actresses are Maggie Smith, Meryl Streep, Patricia Clarkson, Judi Dench and Drew Barrymore; four have been nominated for Best Supporting Actress, three of them winning. When I think back to my favorite performances of a given year, it's usually a supporting actress: Meryl Streep in 2006, Amy Adams in 2008, Mo'Nique in 2009, Valerie Perrine in 1974. Can 1964 also offer a Year's Best from this category? Is the Supporting Actress crop an improvement on Supporting Actor, or is it more of the same? Read on...

Gladys Cooper in My Fair Lady

**

Oh, she's amusing, certainly, and her unconcealed annoyance at her son, Henry Higgins, does its job well. Cooper's his equal, and you can see where he gets that witty snobbery from, though she's much warmer than he is. Still, there's not much there, is there? Does she even change expression?

Dame Edith Evans in The Chalk Garden

*

It's not her fault she's saddled with a dull character in a dull film, but she could liven it up a little. Bonus point: she and Gladys Cooper are making the exact same face -- Grande Dame Haughtiness.

Grayson Hall in The Night of the Iguana

*****

As chaperone to a lusty Sue Lyon, Hall is the chief antagonist of Richard Burton's shamed Father Shannon, a minister given to drink and the ways of the flesh. She is also the best thing about this movie. Give her a secretly "butch" spinster to play and Hall will deliver a lonely woman fighting herself with her faith. As written, she's a harpy, but as played by Hall...I mean, my God! Her tears at the beach as she begs the beautiful nymphet to get away from Shannon. Her maternal cooing as she tries to win the girl back to her side. Her fear and confusion when Ava Gardner's Maxine calls her out on being a lonely butch. Aw, hell, just watch her in the background, look at her ever-watchful eyes as they follow Shannon and Sue Lyon (I forget her name in this, obviously) simultaneously, even if they're on opposite sides of the room. She's incredible, and the film is rarely as exciting as when she's on screen.

Lila Kedrova in Zorba the Greek

***

I shudder to think what others might have done with such a role, since it's a character that is so tempting to overplay: bawdy stories, silly foreigner, incurable illness, etc. Kedrova underplays so much of it while giving her character a great zest for life. She plays it with both sadness and a glimmer of hope, and breaks your heart in the meantime.

Agnes Moorehead in Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte

****

Moorehead surprises via the deglam approach, as the po' white trash housekeeper who mutters under her breath in her Louisiana patois, shuffling slowly, her big ass hanging in the air. Well, don't just stand there: applaud the woman, for she uses all the tricks of a broad comic without compromising the believability of the characters of the tone of the film. Her almost feral approach to the role makes Elvira a devoted dog, baring its teeth at the intruder who threatens her mistress. This truly is one of Moorehead's most accomplished performances.

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Kedrova won the Academy Award for her role -- a role for which she learned and quickly mastered English. Awesome feat, great performance, but I give the Oscar to...

GRAYSON HALL

for

THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA

if only it was The Night of the Chaperone!