The Ultimate Prize: Picture, 1974

This is the category that makes history. Sometimes it's because of what got snubbed, whether in nomination (The Dark Knight) or win (Citizen Kane), but often it's the winner itself that stands on its own, whether deserving (Gone with the Wind) or undeserving (The Greatest Show on Earth...not my opinion, just history's). The winner of Best Picture stands forever in Hollywood legend, whether it likes it or not.

Often, people are quick to declare what merits Best Picture, with many claiming that it should go to the movie that is (a) most relevant to the time and (b) most likely to be remembered in the years to come. Which is fucking stupid, because how on earth are people supposed to judge what will be most remembered in the years to come? Most of the time, I forget about The Hurt Locker's existence, though it fit criteria a nicely and is used as one of the examples of the Academy "getting it right". Also, how is one supposed to choose something that is both timely and timeless? I personally think The King's Speech is a timeless story -- anyone who's had a best friend in time of need should be able to look past the class system -- yet apparently it's old-fashioned and stodgy to many others.

The voters of 1974 lucked out, with period pieces Chinatown and The Godfather: Part II reflecting contemporary concerns regarding corruption, times changing for the worse, crooks in power; it's better to approach these things when through the safe barrier of 1930s outfits. Meanwhile, the intimate The Conversation faced a paranoid, post-Watergate public; the biopic Lenny asked questions about the nature of censorship (cinema is no stranger); and then there's The Towering Inferno, which felt that the in vogue skyscrapers of the day would become death traps. My post-9/11 self feels eerie while watching certain moments of Inferno, but I'd never give it my vote. The Conversation is probably the most dated of the other four, but isn't it still a prime example of great filmmaking? I'd rather vote with my gut, and hope that others don't despise me for having feelings different from their own.

So here's what my gut tells me concerning the five Best Picture nominees of 1974. I've illustrated each with my favorite scene.

Meeting Noah Cross

Chinatown

*****

There are two movies on this list that held my attention throughout the run-time. As in, I never left to go to the bathroom, tweeted during, or checked the time. This is one of them. Suspenseful, funny, romantic, and devastating. The performances are tops, from the lead to the brief appearances by Diane Ladd, John Hillerman and Fritzi Burr. Fantastic all-around, even if the music is forgettable.

The After-Party

The Conversation

****

I don't think I quite emphasized how much I admire this film. The sound is pretty much all diegetic, with the film compelling us to listen as attentively to each nuance as Gene Hackman's Harry Caul does. Of course, we find ourselves becoming just as paranoid, just as doubtful over what we think we might have heard, who can be trusted, who's in on "it", whatever "it" may be. It's not just the technical achievements, of course: Hackman's performance is one of his best, a private individual so afraid of exposure that the idea of someone leaving a birthday present in his apartment deeply unsettles him. Hackman's silence breaks my heart, especially in his scene with Teri Garr; even more heartbreaking is when he actually opens up, as in the after-party scene. The film builds the tension and never releases. Very cool. I do think it gets too slow in parts and takes a while to get the ending, but I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt and say this was the fault of the lateness of my viewing.

Fredo's Smart

The Godfather: Part II

****

Must I reiterate? "Meh" to the Vito stuff, "wow but..." to the Michael stuff, "absolutely!" (bow) to the Fredo stuff. A great film, I'm happy for its win, but there were better films this year. Still, it's a great achievement.

The Phone Call

Lenny

*****

Hey, did you know that I absolutely love this film? This is the only other film that I paid complete attention to while watching. Just incredible, haunted me the rest of the week, leaves me awed just thinking about it.

Any Scene with William Holden, His Awesome Glasses, and That Dinner Jacket

The Towering Inferno

**

A bone is thrown to the highest-grossing film of the year. The scope is epic, the leads are game, the action sequences are impressive, but overall a pretty dull film. Perhaps the problem lies in its conception: when Fox and Warner Bros. greenlit separate adaptations of The Tower and The Glass Inferno, they pooled resources to make one gargantuan disaster flick rather than release similar films against each other. Sometimes I think, "Take a lesson, Snow White producers." Then I remember that there is far too much going on in The Towering Inferno with little payoff. As a result, characters are introduced and forgotten (Faye Dunaway) or are given one-scene arcs (Robert Wagner). The best disaster films remember to be big and intimate -- certainly the greatest disaster film, Airport, remembered this, with a handful of connected characters, each one driving the plot. I love disaster flicks, but as good as it looks (and despite wonderful turns by Steve McQueen and William Holden), it doesn't deliver.

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I try to vary the stars up a bit, usually only allowing for a repeat of one rating. Alas (or maybe not), this year had a pretty solid lineup. As stated, I can roll with the Academy choosing The Godfather: Part II. But hey, I bet you can't guess where my vote goes...

LENNY

yeah, you saw this coming

All Their Own: Original Screenplay, 1974

Of course, as soon as I have a new thing planned, work calls. The Summer Movie Season is upon us! Here's what I wanted to post Thursday:

Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore by Robert Getchell 

***

I'll be honest, I don't know how much of what I love is the screenplay. For instance, I love that Alice is actually kind of unlikable in a lot of scenes, yet so human that we can't help but identify with and root for her. But is that the writing, an acting choice or Scorsese's direction? Though I suppose the latter two would have to have been working off of something. Then again, Getchell does deliver that inexplicable Hollywood ending with the Big Romantic Speech...but then again, still, he also gave us the wonderful Flo. It's so hard to tell what was the writer and what was the director with these auteurs.

Chinatown by Robert Towne

*****

I really do think this is one of those masterpiece screenplays. Every moment of every scene provides a clue to the mystery, whether you realize it or not. There are surprisingly hilarious moments, making that finale all the more shocking, and effective. And then of course there's the gradual progression of our understanding of what Chinatown is.

What's bizarre, though, is that while the ending really is one of the greatest strengths of the film, credit for that must go to director Polanski, who convinced a reluctant Towne to change it from the less downbeat climax of the script. It's strange, for it goes so well with what Towne's established, with the characters and tone and setup and everything. Surely, though, it is a great writer who can see what's best for the story, even if it's different from his original plan. Towne himself eventually admitted it was better for the film. How should I rate this, then? On the final result, or the writer's intentions?

Final result, man. Because it's fucking Chinatown.

The Conversation by Francis Ford Coppola

****

A character study-mystery-thriller with nary a moment wasted. Every line of dialogue either presents a new aspect of Gene Hackman's character or a new element of paranoia. Think about this: we're watching a film about a private individual who says very little, whom few people know intimately, yet we're there with him every step of the way...and there's no voice-over. Like Chinatown, every development is earned by what's preceded it, never a dishonest step.

Day for Night by Jean-Louis Richard, Suzanne Schiffman and Francois Truffaut

***

An ensemble film about filmmaking? Bitches, you know I'm gonna love this. The script allows every member of the ensemble to have at least one great moment in the spotlight: the script girl, the producer, the wife of one of the executives, the lead actress's husband, everyone! If there is an element that gives me pause, it's the way certain things are brought up and then dropped, like the real source of star Severine's muddling of her lines. And yet...is this not a perfect portrait of a film set? Brief catches of gossip, of lovemaking, of rivalries, springing up and disappearing in the limited amount of time they have. Severine herself puts it best: "What a funny life we lead. We meet, we work together, we love each other, and then -- THPPT! As soon as we grasp something, it's gone! See?"

Of course, some people do believe that dialogue = screenplay, and Day for Night certainly has some classic lines. Besides Severine's little speech, my two favorite pieces of dialogue would have to be: "People used to stare at fires. Now they watch TV. We need to see moving images, especially after dinner," and "I'd drop a guy for a film. I'd never drop a film for a guy!" When you can tell everything about a character just from the words they say, the writer's done their job.

Harry & Tonto by Paul Mazursky and Josh Greenfeld

**

Harry & Tonto, for me, misses so many opportunities to be more than an adorable old man taking a road trip. Maybe I missed something, but is there an arc of any kind? Harry doesn't want to leave his apartment, he's thrown out, he road trips he meets people. Do these people change his life in any significant way? Or anything at all? No, he just kind of meets them and then continues on his way. What's the point of the prostitute? The hitchhikers? The old flame? The son who pretends to have it all but doesn't? The nephew who refuses to speak? Ellen Burstyn? There are interesting set-ups to each of these segments, and it feels like they're about to go somewhere, but they don't.

Perhaps the most irritating aspect, for me, is a major spoiler, so feel free to skip this paragraph.

But isn't Tonto the most important thing for him now? He won't get on a plane because of Tonto, he won't stay on a Greyhound because of Tonto, he panics while in jail because of Tonto. Yet Tonto's death is off-screen, and delivered to us by way of voice-over...and I feel no emotional connection. Mayve I shouldn't blame this on the screenplay. Maybe this is more on the directing and editing side of things, and there was a beautiful and poignant moment set up within the script. All I know is, one of the title characters died and it hardly mattered. It's as though the cat existed merely to get him off the bus and away from planes. No thank you.

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Really, who am I to argue with Oscar on this one? I, too, believe the Oscar should go to...

ROBERT TOWNE

for

CHINATOWN