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:

Oscars 1952: Best Director

This is the last of the Oscar Retrospectives in the mini-series "The Winner Is John Ford," focusing on the cinematic years for which John Ford won three of his four Oscars for Best Director (we already looked at 1935, the year he won his first for The Informer).

The Quiet Man was John Ford's passion project. It's the movie that he'd been wanting to make since 1933, constantly researching, rewriting, and re-developing. First, it was a politically-tinged drama, something more akin to The Informer; by the time it hit the big screen, it was a fish-out-of-water romantic-comedy; in every iteration, however, it was a valentine to his parents' homeland, Ireland. Ford was born in Maine, but his parents were both Irish (his mother, according to Searching for John Ford, only really knew Gaelic). Throughout his life, he clung to his heritage and gave time and attention to Irish causes and stories. His Westerns and war films would usually have at least one "stock" Irish character - Barry Fitzgerald dependably on hand, as he is in The Quiet Man; an admirer of the playwright Sean O'Casey, he directed an adaptation of the work The Plough and the Stars and produced a biopic, Young Cassidy; and any criticism people have of How Green Was My Valley is usually directed at how the Welshmen are written as, played by, and treated like Irishmen. But that was Ford. The Quiet Man was finally, finally, his chance to tell an Irish story in an Irish setting with Irish actors - and in color, showing off the beauty of the land. They say passion projects can be doomed to failure, but not only has The Quiet Man maintained its status in cinema - it won Ford his record-breaking fourth Oscar:

It is a feat not likely to be bested any time soon. Only two other directors have even won three, and both of them - Frank Capra and William Wyler - are long dead. Another interesting point: Picture-Director splits are rare, but How Green Was My Valley is the only time Ford won Best Director and the movie Best Picture. The Quiet Man, as we know, lost the big honor to The Greatest Show on Earth, produced and directed by Cecil B. DeMille.

DeMille was also up for Best Director. In 1950, he was given an Honorary Oscar for "37 years of brilliant showmanship"; if the intention was to salute a man at the twilight of his career, it was premature. That same year, his Samson and Delilah became the highest-grossing film; two years later came The Greatest Show on Earth, again, the highest-grossing film of its release year. So, finally, the brilliant showman became a Best Director nominee for the first and only time. He joined a slate that included not only his old friend Ford, but John Huston, Joseph L. Mankiewicz, and Fred Zinnemann. 

This slate, in fact:

1948: Best Director

Got to this a couple days late, but here we go: Best Director, 1948.

Actually, before we get to the nominees - did you know this was also the first year that the Directors Guild of America gave out competitive awards? What was going on that everyone suddenly wanted their own trophies? 

There were only four nominees that first year, only half of whom were also nominated at the 21st Academy Awards: Anatole Litvak for The Snake Pit and Fred Zinnemann for The Search. The other two were Howard Hawks for Red River and Joseph L. Mankiewicz for A Letter to Three Wives...a 1949 film. Mankiewicz would repeat his win at the 22nd Academy Awards, while the winner of the 1948 Oscar wasn't even nominated at the DGA Awards. Go figure!

Here are Oscar's nominees:

Day Five: Best Director

It's been a while. You know where we left off, right? On Best Supporting Actor, which Oscar gave to Hugh Griffith and I gave to...well, check it out if you haven't already. And check out our look at Best Actress, Best Original Screenplay, and Best Score.

As for today? Let's get to Best Director, after the jump.

Director, 1953

Of all the categories, this and Best Picture were the two that had me in constant back-and-forth. At first, for instance, I gave George Stevens a lower score -- but the more I thought of Shane, the more I appreciated, admired, and adored it. Then there was my own wrassling with the results -- no, it can't be. That can't be my choice!

But it is. As unexpected as it may seem, I gotta be me.