The Best of the Bunch: Supporting Actor, 1975

Here's a rarity: a Supporting Actor lineup made up exclusively of supporting performances!

Like Best Picture, this is probably one of the most solid lineups in the history of the field. Trust me: I've been playing close attention since 2005, and including my two retrospectives, this is the strongest field I've seen. Also, while I've still got to see Hester Street, this is the best slate of acting nominees Oscar's class of 1975 offers. We've got two veterans, of course, but these are more than mere career nominations: Burns steals the film from the rest of his co-stars, while Meredith exits his early and haunts throughout. We've also got the two newcomers: Dourif, giving surprising nuance to a role that could have just been a collection of mannerisms, and Sarandon, whose tiny appearance changes our perception of the protagonist and conveys both humanity and incredulity. And then there's Warden, in the first of two nominations for his Warren Beatty collaborations.

Recommended viewing for all, of course. And now, the nominees for Best Supporting Actor:

George Burns in The Sunshine Boys

****

Burns rarely changes up his line-readings, delivering most of his performance in a solid deadpan. It's brilliant, and makes his Al Lewis both hilarious and realistic: you believe that this simple old guy just wanted to settle down and be a grandpa. His masterful simmering is a great counterpoint to Matthau's histrionics, giving him the comic edge in each of their scenes. He's the one you remember at movie's end.

Brad Dourif in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

***

Dourif plays Billy Bibbitt, the sweet stuttering kid who doubts himself, hero-worships McMurphy, and is the most under the thumb of Nurse Ratched, who is friends with his mother. Dourif doesn't just lean on the tics, and his Billy is always watching, lapping up the events around him with all the excitement of...well, of a teenager. That last scene, defiant and embarrassed and mortified, surprises with the easy shift between emotions, and it is this Billy that invites us to share the same loyalty and rage McMurphy feels. Pretty good stuff.

Burgess Meredith in The Day of the Locust

***

A member of Locust's parade of grotesques, Meredith's vaudeville clown turned door-to-door salesman is a haunting, unsightly thing. Contorting his face and body to further the humiliation endured by this has-been, Meredith ably conveys the desperate sadness behind the cackling mask. His self-deprecating monologue, in which he declares his undying love for his cheating ex-wife, is haunting. Brief yet memorable.

Chris Sarandon in Dog Day Afternoon

****

Sarandon gets two scenes to convey the dizzying cocktail depression, naivete, paranoia, selfishness, affection, familiarity and weariness felt by Leon, the "wife" of our protagonist. He nails it.

Jack Warden in Shampoo

*****

A simple role, that of the cuckold, himself unfaithful, who wanders about oblivious to what's going on between Warren Beatty's hairdresser and the rest of the female ensemble. An impossible role, that of the cuckold who discovers betrayal and handles it like a gentleman because, eh, what a world, you know what I mean? Well, Warden knocks it out of the park, crafting one of the more memorable performances of this year. His Lester can be vulgar, but you see the warmth that could draw a woman to him (it's more than money, surely). You actually seem him putting the puzzle pieces together in his mind, then purposely scattering them about so as to keep all unpleasantness at arm's length. It's a funny performance, never false, immediately magnetic.

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Oscar awarded the scene-stealing Burns, but I've got a soft spot for the bald spot, and award the Oscar to...

JACK WARDEN

for

SHAMPOO

you're not such a miserable human being after all!

The Living Against the Dead: Adapted Score, 1975

The now-defunct Adapted Score category has slowly become one my favorite categories, and a large part of why I enjoy these retrospectives so much. There was a time when, instead of lifting previously-lifted works in their original form, composers would actually arrange new versions that fit the world of the film. As with Animated Feature, the participants were so few that some of the nominees raise a few eyebrows, but the overall run from 1938 to 1984, including that period in the 40s and 50s when it was under Scoring: Musical, boasts some worthy and unique choices. It's why we can call Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory a nominated film, and Prince an Oscar Winner. You wouldn't trade that, would you?

Unfortunately, the category no longer exists, ending the year Terry Gilliam's Brazil was released, making it and Babe the worthiest winners who could never be. There has been some talk among the bloggers and tweeters about reviving the category, but most films using non-original music go the Tarantino route of dropping previous recordings in. And that's fine; if you're not gonna do it right, don't do it at all. But there's something to be said for a category that pits Broadway vets, rock musicians and dead classical composers against each other.
  
The nominees for Best Adapted Score are:

Leonard Rosenman adapting Georg Friedrich Handel and others for Barry Lyndon

*****

It's impossible to think of this film without hearing Handel's Sarabande, originally written for harpsichord, used throughout the film in many different ways. Whether it's romantic strings for the love scenes or the predominately percussion one for the duel, Rosenman's various arrangements give a different meaning to the same piece of music, a miraculous achievement.

Peter Matz adapting Kander & Ebb, Vincent Youmans and others for Funny Lady

**

I find Funny Lady to be only half-heartedly a musical, as most of the songs are performed within the revues Fanny stars in, with the three real musical numbers feeling more intrusive than productive. The incidental music adapted from the songs of both Billy Rose and Kander & Ebb certainly doesn't help matters, laying things on a bit thick during quieter scenes, dropping out during louder ones. Not the most memorable of song scores, either. Pity.

Pete Townshend adapting his work for Tommy

****

The Who's new arrangement of their rock-opera is a wee more out there than the original concept album. Take the Christmas segment: while the original tune has a less ostentatious rock arrangement, the film first establishes a more Christmassy sound, with children's choir and all, before becoming a cacophonous mix of toy trumpets and noisemakers. I don't even know what that noise is at 2:46. I do know, however, that it's effective in continuing the discomfiting, camp circus that comes with a 1975 Ken Russell film (see also: Mahler's conversion sequence; literally anything from Lisztomania*).

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No contest. Oscar and I see eye-to-see and give the gold to....

ROSENMAN

for

BARRY LYNDON

Better Films, Lesser Year: Best Picture, 1975

As I mentioned earlier, my journey to the 1975 Retrospective has been a long one -- so long, in fact, that it is not yet completed. I am hoping to hit at least 70 films, and I've still got 38 to go...including four Academy Award nominees.

Anyway, as I say, it's been a long journey. My last post in the Retrospective Series was in August of last year. Since then, I've been working, trying to write, reading, moving...and of course keeping up with current cinema. Besides, it's difficult to reach back into the past and just watch the movies of the time. With the films of 1974, it was no problem. With 1964, I missed one or two, but resources were readily available. 1975, however, is a different beast. Considered by critics of the time as one of the worst years in American Cinema, you will find many of the Oscar nominees difficult to obtain. You can buy Hester Street, with Best Actress nominee Carol Kane, on Amazon...if you're willing to spend 90 dollars for a used DVD. Original Song nominee Whiffs is also available for purchase...if you still possess a VHS player (I don't). And Score nominee Birds Do It, Bees Do It isn't available anywhere, hasn't been seen since HBO showings in the late 80s. I'm still trying to find Hester Street, but you will find more gaps than usual in my profiles.*

In addition, of the films I have seen so far...the critics were right. I don't think it's the nadir, per se, but I find myself shrugging more often than hugging. Often I see performances or technical achievements that succeed in spite of the film. Often I'm just plain bored. I see more and more that the Academy Award Nominees may, indeed, represent the best that year had to offer, and sometimes even that isn't saying much (I'm looking at you, Lies My Father Told Me). One always hopes that you'll find several undiscovered or underrated gems, as with my Best Picture winners Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia or The World of Henry Orient. I'm not saying I haven't completely fallen in love with works previously unknown to me, but I do wish there were a few more.

Yet, despite the fact that these very same experiences -- limited means, disappointing films, etc. -- resulted in my backing off other years, I had to complete 1975. And there are three reasons for this.

1) The Best Picture lineup in one of the best in history. Five classics, all different genres, all directors working at the top of their game.

2) Brenda Vaccaro was nominated for a Jacqueline Susann movie. This I had to see.

3) I had already completed one category.

Of course, that last one is the most important, and ties into the first. I had seen Jaws, Nashville and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest multiple times, and having never seen Dog Day Afternoon since high school, I was eager to revisit it. But what pushed me was the absence of certain films from my theater. The multiplex I work at didn't get to book The Avengers or Dark Shadows, the back-to-back headliners of Summer's beginning. To make up for the fact, we screened a mini-festival in the historic Cinerama Dome: Gone with the Wind, The Shining, Ben-Hur, and many more! And one of these was a little film I'd never seen before, always wanted to see, and was going to get to see on the big screen.

That film was Best Picture nominee Barry Lyndon. I caught it after a screening of Gone with the Wind**, and knew two things. First, I knew I loved it. Second, I knew I had to do this. I had already seen all five Best Picture nominees. Why not finish the job?

And why not start where the project did? Ladies and gentlemen, the nominee for Best Picture, illustrated (as always) with my favorite scenes:

Barry Lyndon

****

The last nominee I saw, and the one that started this journey. Barry Lyndon is the tale of a common Irishman who manipulates his way up the social ladder in Georgian England. Of course, as this is a Kubrick film, it's boasts exquisite detail in the design, gorgeous cinematography, black humor, and memorable characters. At a little over three hours, it is never dull, constantly surprising us with Barry's progress through the classes, from an impoverished nephew to soldier to spy to professional gambler to Lord of the Manor. Ryan O'Neal is a surprising yet effective choice for the lead role, his vapid beauty a convincing visage for the somewhat dim dreamer. This is in addition, of course, to the great performances coaxed by bit players Murray Melvin, Marie Kean, Frank Middlemass and Dominic Savage, all proud members of the Kubrick Scene-Stealers Club.

It's a fascinating study of the class system, one in which a title may be purchased of a man who has gambled and cheated his way to the top. One cannot fully condemn Barry, either; his lack of social standing costs him his youthful sweetheart. You're either in that 1% or you're nothing. A timeless conflict, obviously.

Dog Day Afternoon

****

The first of our three sweaty summer movies on this category. A bank robbery goes awry and becomes a media circus, with hostages that are enjoying themselves, protests supporting the robbers, and a secret marriage that is not what anyone expects. It's also a film boasting one of the greatest performances of Al Pacino's career, supported by an ensemble made up of vivid, serio-comic characters. The pizza delivery guy leaps into the air triumphantly, exclaiming pride and pleasure in his fifteen seconds of television fame. The wife of lead robber Sonny never shuts up, monologue-ing about her fears and disappointments. One of the tellers even refuses to go back with the cops when she can, instead insisting on sticking with her girls as she waves to the crowd...and cameras.

For that's what the movie is all about: the media and the ways in which it can be used and abused. Though there to cover a hostage crisis, the news cameras instead record a triumphant Sonny as he orders around the cops, tosses money to the crowd, and entertains his hostages. The dim-witted thieves become symbols of gay oppression and police brutality, even though only one of them is gay and the only physical violence comes at the hands of one hostage's hot-headed boyfriend. One of the final scenes has a car driving Sonny and Sal through the crowd outside the bank, and they meet with both cheers and jeers: an audience watching a sporting event. Humorous, a little cynical, yet always human.

Jaws

****

Required viewing every year. Jaws is, of course, the first summer blockbuster, which broke box office records and made the career of young director Steven Spielberg. It's so integrated into the popular consciousness that one could probably quote most of the film without having ever seen it: "You're gonna need a bigger boat" "duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn" "Smile you son of a bitch" and so on. It's known as one of the scariest films of all time, and as one of the films that killed the auteur fad of the 1970s. People call it a timeless masterpiece, others dated and overrated. A film as big as Jaws is going to have a lot of equally rabid supporters and detractors, but most people rarely take the time to sit down and watch the film beginning to end. No need to, right? Everyone knows it.

When you do, though, you realize how solid a film Jaws really is. The chemistry between the main trio, the tight editing, John Williams' score building menacingly; certainly that's all wonderful, but what we've forgotten over time is the way this film charts the arc of Roy Scheider's Brody. A city cop who moves to Amity Island to get away from urban squalor, Brody fears the water, feet never touching the beachside flotsam, yet finds himself in the middle of the ocean against a calculating man-eater. He becomes almost an observer in the latter half of the film, out of his element, ceding authority to Quint, yet it is he who must ultimately step up and defeat the shark. Then swim back to the mainland. He reminds me of my dad: devoted to his family, sensible, willing to do what it takes for those he loves. I can identify with Jaws.

Besides, it's still really fucking scary.

Nashville

*****

Regular readers of this blog or my Twitter, or indeed any casual peruser of my profile, knows how I feel about Nashville. It's Altman's masterpiece, not just the first of his kaleidoscopic ensemble films, but the most successful at capturing the spontaneous highs and lows of all classes, races and ages. You GET the behavioral whys and wherefores of characters as diverse as ex-con Wade and superstar Haven Hamilton, punctuated in every scene by musical performances ranging from the emotional to the absurd.

Its fashion, politics, anticipation of the Bicentennial and casting of Michael Murphy in a lead role may date it, but its appeal ranges from my ex's dad to myself. We recognize ourselves in the characters, and not always the most savory ones. Maybe, like Sueleen Gay, we think we're the next big star, convinced that the reason nothing's happened for us has more to do with timing than talent (sometimes true, but sometimes we shouldn't kid ourselves). Maybe, like Mr. Green, we're too passive and accommodating in our relationships with people, no matter how little respect they pay us. Maybe, like the Hal Phillip Walker campaign girls, we're putting all our hopes and dreams for the future in a politician who seems too good to be good. Whoever you are, you'll find yourself in Nashville (and among 24 of your favorite stars!).

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

***

The legend itself. Winner of five Academy Awards, listed on both of AFI's Top 100 Movies, referenced in everything from Daria to It's Kind of a Funny Story. Schools teach it, doctors have gone into the mental health profession because of it, people constantly argue the merits of it. Cuckoo's Nest has a reputation for a reason: it's a solidly put-together, at times inspiring story of a rebel fighting against the system and the cold-hearted, power-mad authority figures who try to bring him down. Great performances from Jack Nicholson and Louise Fletcher as the two forces fighting for the souls of the mental patients, and of course from the patients themselves: future stars Christopher Lloyd and Danny DeVito, third-billed William Redfield, Academy Award nominee Brad Dourif, and more!

I do feel, sometimes, that the film simplifies the conflict, unmistakably rooting for its "counter-culture" hero while only barely acknowledging the fact that he's a manipulative crook with no understanding of the very real problems his fellow inmates face. Nurse Ratched is too easily villainized as this unfeeling woman, without any acknowledgment of the necessities in running a mental ward. Still, I have to give credit to the actors for attempting to bring a shadow of this conflict into better focus. And really, one starts to forget that when faced with the inspiring fantasy World Series, triumphant fishing trip and quietly cathartic Christmas party. It's honestly moving, anchored by Nicholson's authentic performance -- my dad always cites the split-second moment in the basketball game when McMurphy wipes his snot as one of the greatest genuine moments in film.

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One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest won in a grand sweep, the first film since It Happened One Night to win both Lead Acting categories, Screenplay, Director and Picture. Awesome. But I started with Best Picture because it's the least suspenseful of my profiles. Those of you who know me, read me, tweet me, y'all know that I have to back my favorite movie of all time:

NASHVILLE

i never get enough

*I mean, I missed Margin Call, A Separation and A Better Life last year; it happens

**Spoiler for both films, but this double feature had the surprising theme of Social Schemers and the Horses Who Hate Their Kids

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....

First Half of 2012: The Favorites

It's probably about time we get to finishing the Halfway Point Review...since it's almost August and all. When last we met, I went over twenty-four films that I hated, forgot, or just liked all right. The majority of films, of course, fall into the middle ground, a fact that seems lost in the insta-judgments you find on the Internet. But there are always films that stand up above the rest. They may not be better than the others, but they connected with me more, and I feel a desire to see them again (The Devil Inside almost made it here).

So, the sixteen 2012 films released between January and June that I will make a point to re-watch are:

Just Made It

Mirror, Mirror
Much as I liked Snow White and the Huntsman, Tarsem's earlier-released, family-friendly fantasy was more tonally consistent, more solid in its storytelling, with a more game ensemble. Armie Hammer's the stand-out, but this is not to give short shrift to adorable Lily Collins and the dwarf ensemble, each one distinct and charming.

Guilty Pleasures
This Means War
Chemistry between the actors, confident direction, tight editing. Fun time.

What to Expect When You're Expecting
I'm a little surprised that this one made it this far, but the heart wants what it wants. While not the most brilliantly-written or beautifully-acted ensemble film (actually, some parts are just plain terrible), there's no denying its effectiveness when it works. Elizabeth Banks, Rodrigo Santoro and Anna Kendrick are all delivering, performance-wise, but one should also credit the writers for the sudden quality in crafting these more complex characters.

Great Stuff

The Avengers
Marvel's multi-million dollar gamble paid off, with a great bit of that due to Joss Whedon's expert handling of an ensemble. You don't have to travel far on the Internet to find tracts praising Whedon and his actors; suffice it to say that, with one or two exceptions, I agree wholeheartedly. Alan Silvestri's invigorating score, too, is worthy of honors.

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
I've written about this film before, so let me just briefly reiterate that it's a slight but delightful charmer anchored by solid turns from Judi Dench, Maggie Smith and Tom Wilkinson. And those costumes!

The Cabin in the Woods
Clever, funny, and more than a bit gory: just the way I like it! A fun deconstruction of the horror genre, it thrills without ever being really scary. And that's not a bad thing. Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford seem to be having a ball.

John Carter
Remember my review? Great visuals, moving score, Lynn Collins.

Men in Black III
I'm actually a fan of the second one, yet I was still surprised that this turned out as well as it did. Josh Brolin's dead-on embodiment of the younger Tommy Lee Jones was uncanny, almost scarily so. But perhaps the greatest shocker was the emotional resonance of the script, as it dealt with the father-son relationship between J and K while also exploring regret, responsibility, maturity, and free will. I teared up more than once.

The Pirates! Band of Misfits
Trust Aardman: they always deliver on the briskly-executed, cleverly-written stop-motion comedies. I would also rank it as the best Hugh Grant performance I've ever been seen. Or heard, rather. And I trust there won't be many times where I can say Charles Darwin made me laugh out loud.

Prometheus
Certainly, much of the script is complete nonsense. But give credit where it's due: I never thought about it while watching the movie. The direction, the acting, the cinematography, the visual effects, the score, THE SCORE, the editing....all distracted from inconsistent characters and slipshod plotting. There's a reverent feel throughout the film, and it's hard not be awestruck by the visuals. And again, the real standout is the score, composed by Marc Streitenfeld, evoking the sense of wonder we see in Noomi Rapace's face as she explores the origins of man.

Wanderlust
It finally happened! I enjoyed Jennifer Aniston in a movie! But no, that's not the only reason it shows up here. First of all, it's an apt satire of both materialism and the romanticizing of the commune lifestyle. Secondly, director/co-writer David Wain and his fellow The State alums consistently -- miraculously, really -- balance their absurd, over-the-top sense of humor with characters that feel genuine. This is especially impressive in the cases of nudist vintner Joe Lo Truglio and lush housewife Michaela Watkins, both of whom could have been one-joke caricatures, and instead wind up being sympathetic and relatable, in some weird way.

The Sublime
21 Jump Street
Hilarious and surprisingly moving, one of the few films I saw twice in the theater (in as many days, I think). Proved Channing Tatum's mettle as a comic leading man, and guaranteed my falling in love with Brie Larson.

Brave
Although it is, perhaps, the least ambitious of Pixar's output so far, for me this ranks alongside Finding Nemo and the Toy Story films. The film effortlessly flits between comedy and drama, with the impeccable voicework by Kelly Macdonald and Emma Thompson anchoring the film's emotional arcs. Rousing score, lovely songs, breathtaking visuals....need I go on?

Damsels in Distress
Dry yet over the top, Whit Stillman's deadpan take on college, self-discovery, and reinvention had me chuckling more than laughing, but I definitely wanted to revisit when it was all over. Great as Greta Gerwig usually is, this was the first time I felt her peculiar acting quirks were properly utilized. Analeigh Tipton continues to impress, but it was Megalyn Echinkunwoke who stole the film out from under everyone else. And there are dance numbers!

Moonrise Kingdom
Lit with the bright haze of a summer memory, this surely must be the most gorgeous film Wes Anderson's offered us. It's woozily nostalgic with a bittersweet flavor, as we recognize the naive passions and awkward realities of young love. As young runaway Sam, Jared Gilman fits comfortably into Anderson's world, dances with an a-rhythmic fearlessness, and has the best line of the film ("I love you, but you have no idea what you're talking about"). As the sad, somewhat dim, lonely Chief of Police, Bruce Willis gets the meatiest role he's had in years, and of course gives a touching performance as a melancholy yet hopeful man. When I recommend this to people, I use the word BEAUTIFUL. And it is.

The Raid: Redemption
There's about one scene of exposition before everything goes nuts in Welsh director Gareth Evans' Indonesia-set actioner about a SWAT team trapped in a high rise ruled by a ruthless drug kingpin. Some of the best technical work of the first half, with the score, editing, cinematography and sound working together to amp up the tension for a breathless 100 minutes. It's a relief when you can finally exhale.

The Bad, the Worse, and the Pretty All Right

Six months in, forty films down. Not such a bad record, if I say so myself. Indeed, this could very well be the best I've ever done. This time last year, I'd seen fewer than 25. I guess that's what happens when you work at a movie theater, close to home, in the center of Hollywood.

It's been an interesting year, so far. Potentially great films have been mishandled/disappointing, while mere distractions have turned out to be quasi-masterpieces. The best films so far have been unassuming, pleasant little things for the most part. And even the worst films have a little spark of something to recommend them -- probably why they're so frustrating.

Still, I suppose it's great that there are only three films that I could say I hated, and even those come with something redeeming. The Five-Year Engagement is overlong and self-indulgent -- co-writer Jason Segel plays a stand-in for co-writer/director Nicholas Stoller who women keep hurling themselves at -- but at least Rhys Ifans and the ever-reliable Emily Blunt play frustrating, endearing, terrible, wonderful, real people. The Lucky One has neither story or characters, but the cinematography sure is beautiful. And The Lorax is just terrible, but that earbug of an opening song fooled me into thinking I was going to have a good time. Still, all three films just filled me with such deep loathing that I hope to never even see those posters again.

I VISIT YOU IN YOUR SLEEEEEEP!!!

Then there are the films that I know must be terrible but are quite watchable...and rewatchable. I actually saw The Raven twice; it's gory and the idea's cool, even if they completely fuck it up in the end. And middle. And beginning. Ok, it's a huge mess, but John Cusack's performance, reminiscent of a recently-awakened drunk's sudden outbursts, must be seen. It may actually be genius, which is more than I can say for the hilarity of The Devil Inside. Perfect example: one scene intercuts between the film crew's POV and security cam footage. It's the interview between our heroine and her crazy, possibly-possessed mum, and our film crew gets great, emotional close-ups....but in the security-cam footage, the cam crew is nowhere to be seen. There's nowhere else they could be, they're just not in the wide. It's hilarious.

But lest we think horror has a monopoly on this, Lawrence Kasdan's decade-long retreat from cinemas broke with Darling Companion, in which all his movie-star friends get together in the Colorado mountains and hang out. I guess there's subtle character development, sorta, kinda, but come on. Nothing happens. At all. Yet it's all very pleasant, like having a hot chocolate with some old friends.

Old friends who like to play handgames, amirite?

 Jeff, Who Lives at Home and Salmon Fishing in the Yemen were also pleasant, albeit pedestrian time-fillers. Lola Versus seemed like it could have used more breathing room, but on the whole I liked what Daryl Wein and Zoe Lister-Jones were up to. Like Breaking Upwards, the performances are strong and the protagonist so relatable that it's a while before one realizes how awful she can be. Or human, I guess, is the correct way of putting it. One for the Money was a lot of fun, Debbie Reynolds' awful mugging aside. Tim & Eric's Billion-Dollar Movie has a lot of great things happening, though they're really reaching for that feature-length. I'd see any of these again, but I'm not in a hurry to do it.

I would also check out these movies again, if just to remind me that they existed. I even have a mini-review for one of them! They are: Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, Hysteria, Safe House, Wrath of the Titans, The Woman in Black and Haywire, the latter of which I fell asleep in the middle of. Not necessarily bad movies, but I probably could've skipped them and experienced life just the same. In fact, I'm even having some trouble recalling Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, which I saw a week ago. 

I can't stress enough my disappointment with Dark Shadows and Rock of Ages, both of which are the best and the worst movies this year, depending on the scene. Both suffered from too many characters with not enough to do, great individual performances (Cruise, Depp, Akerman, Green, Pfeiffer, Giamatti) opposite embarrassing ones (Moretz, Boneta), and absolutely god-awful climactic lines/line-readings ("Woof", "Yeah, Heyman, rock 'n' roll will never die!").  I will say that, while Rock of Ages only comes together when Cruise is on-screen, Dark Shadows is a consistently enjoyable romp for about 2/3 of its runtime. Then Act Three spoils all the fun with its rhythm-less "action" finale. Oh, well. At least its post-dubbing was consistent with the actors' mouths; Rock of Ages never seemed to get that right, in scenes both spoken and sung. I would see either one again, but it'd have to be on DVD: that way I can just hit SKIP.

Hopefully, the last time I will ever see this face.

Come to think of it, I might just do that with Snow White and the Huntsman, too: Skip all of Charlize Theron's embarrassing shouting to get to Kristen Stewart's vulnerable, innocent, awkward, spectacular Snow White. Sure, the script is nonsense, but Stewart and the visuals are worth giving the film another look.


There were other films that were equally frustrating/disappointing. Sound of My Voice was more semi-intriguing, semi-irritating nonsense from Brit Marling, who prefers for her scripts to stop rather than end. The Hunger Games was ok....I was disappointed in the blah cinematography, awful direction, haphazard editing, dull art direction, and average performances.

Finally, to leave on a positive note. Chronicle is a solid film boasting great performances from a trio of promising young actors, fantastic visual effects work and a great premise with a mostly satisfying arc, all handled magnificently by director Josh Trank. Still, I like and admire more than I love it.

Oh, God, no! No, I...I didn't mean it! I LOVED IT! NOOOOOOO!!!

Which all comes out to twenty-four films. What of those sixteen others, then? They are the films that I would actively seek out to watch again; that I would introduce to someone; that I think about often. They are the films....

...that will be written about in another post. Prepare to be surprised, though. I was.

British Avengers: Assemble!

Today, crowds are lining up to see the all-star extravaganza promising spectacular visuals, cheesy wit and endless entertainment. Those crowds are all based in Boca Raton and similar places. That's unfortunate, for The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is a cinematic bonbon well worth the time of any Judi Dench/Maggie Smith fan.

Those of you who have been too swept up in pre-Avengers hoopla, or missed my Top 25 Most Anticipated, perhaps you've missed hearing about Best Exotic. Based on Deborah Moggach's These Foolish Things, the film follows a handful of elderly Brits who retire to India, enticed by the promise of an exotic paradise; as it turns out, the hotel is a run-down heirloom on the brink of foreclosure managed by well-meaning yet scatter-brained Dev Patel. Our ensemble elects to stay anyway, each for a different purpose, and for the next two hours we are treated to their individual stories of sex, death, and everything in between.

If the film has a lead, it's Judi Dench, playing the recently-widowed, newly-christened blogger who, after years living behind a husband she loved but never really understood, is ready to find herself. Watch as she goes in search of employment! Listen as she narrates with platitudinous observations on daily life! Marvel at her radiance as she girlishly enters into a romance! It's rare enough that Dench gets to display such vulnerability; that it's the most sparklingly beautiful she's ever looked on-screen is a double-treat.

On the same train are Tom Wilkinson and Bill Nighy. Wilkinson, a terrific actor who all too often is cast as the Uptight Ham Berating People While Wearing a Suit (The Ghost Writer, The Debt, Recount, The Kennedys), plays a retired lawyer who comes to India to revisit the past. It's a moving subplot anchored by Wilkinson's subtly conveyed sense of loss and love. Nighy also gets to play against type, as a married man who has fallen out of step with his wife of forever, finding himself attracted to the warmer Judi Dench.

Rounding out the cast are Celia Imrie and Ronald Pickup as two randy retirees looking for lust; Penelope Wilton as Nighy's uptight wife; and Academy Award winning superstar Maggie Smith as a kind-of racist former housekeeper forced to come to India for surgery. It's a small role, requiring Smith to do little more than do some trademark Smithisms: a tart line here, a look of disapproval there. But Smith is one of the greats, so when the film asks more of the character, she delivers: In a monologue about how she was forced into retirement; in her scared face as she first arrives; in her final scene. They are mere hints at what she's capable of.

Poor Wilton doesn't get any such opportunities. The script has decided she's a bitch, so bitch she will remain. Not that the character is pleasant to be around at all, but it's not necessary to crucify people for wanting to maintain the lifestyle they're accustomed to. In Titanic, Frances Fisher delivers a marvelous mini-speech about the importance of Rose marrying well, and while we may initially scoff at her horror of having to become a seamstress to make ends meet, the film does an admirable job of making us appreciate the humiliation and difficulty of such a drastic change. Because, really, I couldn't do it if my life depended on it, so why should I expect Ruth to? Best Exotic has no such mercy, and so Wilton is to be despised, pitied only because she can't appreciate the BEAUTY and WONDER of INDIA. After the depths explored in Wilkinson, Smith and Dench, to see a character given such two-dimensional treatment is a disappointment.

Otherwise, it's quite a good time. The art team must be commended on the titular lodgings. It's a perfect fixer-upper, full of both potential and thick dust. The IMDb does not, at present, list a costume designer, and that's a shame; between Judi Dench's frocks and Tom Wilkinson's suits, we've got a contender for Contemporary at the CDG Awards at year's end! Even Thomas Newman, whose music I find to be kind of samey, has composed an exotically hypnotic score that's distinct yet not distracting.

Overall? A delightful time, with a great performance from Dench.