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.

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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

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.

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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

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.

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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!

The Man Behind the Curtain: Director, 1964

You've seen 'em in Adapted Screenplay, you'll see 'em in Best Picture, and you're seeing them right now. Between the enfant terrible, the old school, the foreigners and the Disney rep, Best Director had a real nifty lineup this year. Honestly the Dir/Pic nominees wouldn't be this interesting again until 1995, when the only matches were for -- of all things -- historical epic Braveheart, Italian rom-com The Postman, and talking-pig children's flick Babe. Weird years are cool. Of course, I kind of wish they'd had spread the wealth a little, but this is a pretty solid lineup, non?

Michael Cacoyannis for Zorba the Greek

***

I'm impressed with the long takes, the performances and the shot design. Working from his own, flawed script, Cacoyannis proves himself more adept as an auteur rather than author. Still don't think he handles those tone shifts comfortably, but maybe the character of Zorba's shifts make me uncomfortable. And surely if there was a way to inject life into Basil, it would be here?

George Cukor for My Fair Lady

****

If one were to judge by performances alone, Cukor does a bang-up job, everyone pitch-perfect and wonderfully memorable. It feels stagebound, though, and Cukor's direction does little to enliven the affair. When he's on, though -- Ascot, the ball, Doolittle's visit -- the material soars. Otherwise, it sometimes feels as though anyone could have done this, with much the same results.

Peter Glenville for Becket

***

It's so absurd that Becket is as visually impressive as it is. The shot design takes my breath away, the execution of the beach scene is phenomenal, the moments of humor are not at odds with the established tone. Glenville's done an impressive job. I don't think he keeps that momentum going near the end, though, beginning with a tone-deaf scene in Rome, then a too-long scene at Henry II's court that feels tedious and redundant. Worst of all, those finals blows in the cathedral just did not feel as effective as they should have. Somethings weird with the pacing here, almost as if Glenville and his editor got tired by that point. A shame, too, because that's the cap-off to an otherwise exquisite film.

Stanley Kubrick for Dr. Strangelove

*****

Seller's improv, George's story, the realism, the absurdity, the comedy -- all come together beautifully under the exacting hand of Stanley Kubrick. There's a unique tone that is at once hilarious and horrifying. The screenplay, as ever with Kubrick, is the blueprint, but the real magic happens when he's behind the camera and running the show.

Robert Stevenson for Mary Poppins

**** 

The kids aren't annoying and the parents aren't alienating. The sweetness of the title character isn't overbearing, and her sternness lives comfortably alongside it. The musical numbers are lively and exciting, showing off without being tedious. Do you realize a full hour goes by the time they leave the chalk drawing? I didn't until I glanced down at the running time. A man running a ship like this better have a good head for actors and pacing. Stevenson's got it.

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George Cukor finally won his Oscar for My Fair Lady. Of his competitors, only one was nominated again -- and never won. A shame, really, because not only should he have at least won once...but it should have been this year. I award the Oscar to...

STANLEY KUBRICK

for

DR. STRANGELOVE

he made people laugh at Fail-Safe

Silver Screen, Slick Sets: Art Direction, 1964 - Part One

As color was becoming more prominent, the Academy found it necessary to separate the colorful from the monochromatic in the craft categories. After all, a black-and-white film cannot emphasize reds and blues the same way a color film can, and a color film cannot emphasize its shadows and light-play the same way a black-and-white film can. The nominees for B&W Art Direction were for subtle approaches, whether single-set, minimalist work, or dressing up what was already there.

THE AMERICANIZATION OF EMILY

George W. Davis, Hans Peters & Elliot Scott, art directors

Robert R. Benton & Henry Grace, set decorators

**

From the offices of high-ranking naval officials to supply rooms, every detail is seen to. It's organized clutter, as only the military can do.

HUSH...HUSH, SWEET CHARLOTTE

William Glasgow, art director

Raphael Bretton, set decorator

***

From the wealth of the father to the chaos of the daughter. Good ol' Southern Gothic.

THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA

Stephen Grimes, art director

****

Looks like the kind of small getaway my parents would love. It may not look like much, but it'll do.

SEVEN DAYS IN MAY

Cary Odell, production designer

Edward Boyle, set decorator

****

From the honorable Oval Office to the sinister Joint Chiefs Conference Room. The not-too-distant future is eerily close.

ZORBA THE GREEK

Vassilis Photopoulos, art director

*****

From the wealthy Frenchwoman to the poor Greek. Every item is deeply personal, giving us a sense of the residents.

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Photopoulos' art direction for Zorba the Greek won, and for good reason! Indeed, I'm inclined to agree...

PHOTOPOULOS

for

ZORBA THE GREEK

someone built that

From One Author to Another: Adapted Screenplay, 1964

Let us begin our journey the way all movies begin: with a script. Let us, specifically, focus on the scripts inspired by other tales, taking as their inspiration novels, plays, musicals and children's books. The year 1964 was a year of consensus: not only were Best Picture and Best Director five for five, but Adapted Screenplay was drinking the Kool-Aid as well. All five of the Best Picture nominees were adapted, and all five found themselves up against each other in yet another category. From the dramatic to the comedic, the historic to the fantastic, here are your Best Adapted Screenplays of 1964:

Edward Anhalt for Becket, from the play by Jean Anouilh

****

It works so smoothly as cinema that it's hard to believe this was a play...in French! The action is opened up seamlessly, allowing for a great use of horses (horses!), coronations, discovery of dead bodies...you know, stuff that is probably only discussed on stage. It's wickedly funny, too.

Stanley Kubrick, Peter George and Terry Southern for Dr. Strangelove, from the novel Red Alert by George

****

Strangelove's strength is in taking a very serious book on a very serious subject and playing it for sardonic laughs. You're giggling at the absurdity of the American President and the Russian Premier discussing how little or often the other calls just to chat, and before you know it you realize that the world really does rest on the shoulders of people who are just as insecure and fallible as any of us. It tells a joke to tell the truth.

Bill Walsh and Don DaGradi for Mary Poppins, based on the books by P.L. Travers

*****

This could have been just a series of vignettes, but the creation of Bert, the emphasis on Mr. Banks, and the development of that moderation/balance theme make the story flow more naturally. They've done a swell job making Mary both stern and kind, Mr. Banks strict and loving, and Bert just the coolest guy on Earth. And it cannot be stressed enough how great it is that they wrote kids who act like kids.

Alan Jay Lerner for My Fair Lady, based on the musical by Lerner and Loewe and the play Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw

**

As much as I love the movie, I can't really award its screenplay in good conscience. It's the full libretto for the stage version, but instead of "ACT ONE - SCENE 3: HIGGINS' STUDY" we get "INT. HIGGINS' STUDY - DAY". Hardly a challenge. Give it a Tony, but not an Oscar.

Michael Cacoyannis for Zorba the Greek, based on the novel by Nikos Kazantzakis

***

Zorba has a lot of interesting things to say about life, love, humanity, war, sex, etc. The characters are strongly developed and consistent. There's some subtle work here -- look at the silent characters of the widow and her admirer's father. Good stuff, though I will ding it points when it comes to Basil. I don't get his romance with the widow or his laughter at Madame Hortense or his behavior at all. 

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Oscar gave Becket its only win in this category, and while that screenplay is certainly high-fiveable, there can be only one...

WALSH & DAGRADI

for

MARY POPPINS

a spoonful of talent helps the competition GO DOWN