by Dan Cohen, Santa Monica Reporter
The 2010 movie year concluded with an unusually dull Academy Awards broadcast, lacking surprises on every possible level. I suppose we should be thankful for the movies they honored, which were so much better than the show. Still, the images from “Titanic,” that flashed numerous times throughout the more than three hour debacle, spoke volumes.
Early in the evening somebody bragged about the worldwide audience of a billion or so. They do that every year. But this time I stopped to wonder what that billion or so thought about this slow train wreck. Here, we tend to take Hollywood’s folly in stride. But what about France or Germany? Or India? Do they find any of this entertaining? Or does the network edit out the in jokes and unexpected gaffes that, in previous years, have given the show at least the illusion of a pulse? This year the talent gave them little to worry about. Does the rest of the world like it better that way? Are the pricey gowns and celebrity mash up enough to keep them engaged?
Anne Hathaway and James Franco made photogenic hosts, but were married to a bland script. After a witty opening, that seamlessly integrated them into scenes from the 10 best picture nominees, the show settled into a plodding rhythm. Neither actor showed an instinct for improvisation. Sorely missed was that sense of the unpredictable that comedians bring to the proceedings.
For me the most compelling segment was the annual tribute to the recently departed. Seeing their smiling faces, still bigger than life, evoked the purely irrational affection so many of us (myself included) carry for this contrived world of fantasy.
As regards the best picture nominees, here are a few random observations, organized around the winners. Do I need to say that what follows is highly subjective?
Scratch the surface of “The King’s Speech,” (Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay,) and you’ll discover the dynamics of a traditional buddy movie, but made special by David Seidlers’ evocative and agile script.
Lacking Tom Hooper’s impeccable direction the movie might have felt stage bound. But he and cinematographer Danny Cohen, (no relation) brought it to stirring visual life. The many interiors were both varied and striking. And the several exteriors were shot in a way that made the period almost seem like another planet.
Colin Firth, an actor who keeps reaching new heights, tapped a reservoir of feeling we haven’t seen before. Here I’m mainly thinking back to his subtle, complex, and heart rending work in “A Single Man,” from two years ago. Geoffrey Rush took what is arguably a more challenging role, as it has no real problem to anchor the performance. This is probably the first Oscar that owes a debt to stuttering.
And yet I find it hard to rank it above “The Social Network,” which went in places most main stream films fear to go. Aaron Sorkins’ lightning swift script embraces ambiguous motivation, and regards rapacious behavior as a given instead of a failing to be quieted by love or struggle. And the movie hits all its marks with unfailing humor. The result: it lost for all the reasons that made it such a superior work.
About halfway into awards season “Social Network” gave up the forward momentum that made it an early favorite. The Producers Guild, the Directors Guild and even SAG came out for “King’s Speech.” Just consider for a minute; the American guilds favored a UK production over a distinctive and innovative film made by their own members. The obvious takeaway: for reasons unknown to me, people hold a grudge against director David Fincher. And perhaps “Networks’” super successful producer, Scott Rudin.
But there’s more to it than that. In spite of the onslaught of inspired TV ads, “Network” couldn’t wring much more than 100 million out of the US box office. People outside of the younger, urban demographic simply weren’t interested. The King, with its warm relationships and comfortable conclusion, has benefited from the Weinstein Companies ambitious ad campaign which gave rise to excellent word of mouth.
Still, both films have been enormously profitable. In guiding “Social Network” to the screen, Producer Rudin, Sorkin and Fincher delivered a work of clarity, precision and integrity. As for “King’s Speech; the last remark of the evening revealed more than its speaker intended, when he proudly thanked the UK film council for backing it. Our films have no such Government champions.
Christian Bale and Melissa Leo were odds on favorites for their spirited roles in “The Fighter.” There are far more blows exchanged between family members than boxers in this terrifically entertaining movie, and a large audience has embraced it. Mark Wahlberg, as producer and star, generously gave other actors the space to keep the action percolating, while he remained its grounded center, even off camera.
“The Fighter” reminds me of freewheeling Irish comedies like “The Snapper,” and “The Van,” that, while focused on a central character, find time for the development of several others. The script soars with raucous comedy throughout, as a half dozen supporting players are given the screen time to flesh out their issues with humor and feeling. A triumph for the idiosyncratic director David O Russell, “The Fighter,” amounts to more than the sum of its many pleasing parts. The Academy took note.
“Black Swan,” which was championed by many when it first appeared in festivals, fell victim to second thoughts, as many aired reservations during the gestation period leading up to the awards. A number of them seemed genuinely embarrassed by their initial enthusiasm. I’m not sure why
“Swan,” owes a debt to Polanski’s “Repulsion,” and “The Red Shoes,” (probably the best dance film ever made.) But it stakes out its own territory. It’s a psychological thriller that relishes tawdry sex and dysfunction like an overheated B movie. I guess some felt buyers’ remorse for celebrating a script where a beautiful dancer starts out on the wrong foot and missteps all the way to the end. The simple reality is that Darren Aronofsky remained true to a singular vision, directed with vigor, and helped Natalie Portman take a giant step forward.
While Academy voters skew older, and were expected to honor Annette Benning for her poignant work in “The Kids Are All Right,” there was no resisting Portman’s intense, frontal assault on the part. Watching her go to pieces is disturbing, but audiences have been drawn to it like moths to a bug zapper; one more testament to the voyeuristic appeal of movie going in general. Hitchcock was the master of this, and Aronofsky has learned the lessons well.
“True Grit” is the Coen brothers biggest hit to date. It has grossed four times its 40 million dollar budget. The Academy was not compelled to coronate the movie, although Roger Deakins outstanding cinematography received a deserving nomination.
As much as I enjoyed this flinty and violent romp, I felt more for an ill fated horse than I did for any of the human characters. The Coens have the precision of neurosurgeons, but also a kind of Olympian detachment. Still, it was amazing to see fourteen year old Hailee Steinfeld held her own opposite Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon, and Josh Brolin. When she gave notice she’d rather produce and direct I thought, why not?
“Blue Valentine” was made on a miniscule budget, like “Winters’ Bone,” (which I wrote about earlier this year.) But the small scale works in its favor since it’s about interiors. The story is told in a style that used to be called “cinema verite,” because it appears to focus on the truth of human nature, as opposed to the contrivances of a script. It’s by no means a new approach, but here it suited the material.
The movie details a relationship on the decline, in almost perversely painful detail. Along the way it plays games with time, which, if nothing else, keeps the audience on the alert. Director Derek Cianfrance, who comes from the documentary world, is relentless in emphasizing the quotidian, which tried my patience in the early episodes. One example; the fate of a family dog is used to represent the deteriorating relationship, a tired metaphor if ever there was one. But midway I surrendered to Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, whose nakedness, (in more ways than one,) force us to share the particulars of their endlessly sad predicament.
“Blue Valetine” was never going to be a hit; it’s way too dark, but it has currently grossed ten times its cost, and found and audience, which will no doubt be much larger when the film comes to home video.
“127 Hours,” Danny Boyles’ take on Aron Ralston’s true tale of survival, was a movie I resisted until there was nothing else to see at the local multiplex. Anybody who pays attention to such things knows that it’s about an overly confident young athlete who pays a gruesome price for his carelessness. James Franco is arresting in what’s basically a one man show, but it’s really about an unfortunate mishap, and little else. What sets it apart from the average TV movie are the visuals. Boyle, the acclaimed auteur of “Slumdog Millionaire,” “28 Hours Later,” and “Trainspotting,” does his best to elevate the material, but it’s never more than a bad trip that ends with a big sigh of relief.
I have nothing to say about “Toy Story 3,” because I couldn’t get interested in the subject matter. I’m in the minority on that. But that, along with “Inception,” discussed here this summer, makes ten; ten strong movies, all different, all quality entertainment
And now, the point I’ve been driving toward, through both parts of this piece.
A couple years ago the Academy expanded the Best Picture category from five to ten. The reasons, as stated in their press material, included making the competition more inclusive. It wasn’t clear whether they were feeling the heat from The Spirit Awards, which at least nominally, is devoted to honoring lower budget productions, or taking fire from the studios, whose movies were being edged out by more modestly made “independent” features, movies like “Juno,” or “Little Miss Sunshine,” which became studio pick ups after they were made by outside producers.
It’s never been clear to me which was the more pressing imperative. In any case, here we are, a couple years in, and we have the Academy picking 7 films from the so called Indy world, one low budget studio film, and two more traditional productions. And of the two big budget films, one comes from Hollywood’s highest horse, Pixar. The net effect of the Academy’s new posture has been to honor more, even smaller movies like “Blue Valentine,” and “Winters’ Bone.” And fewer, not more, studio product. What does that say about the films they’re making?
