Thoughts on the 84th Annual Academy Awards

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This year’s Academy Awards can essentially be boiled down to two statements: a silent film won Best Picture for the first time since 1929, and Meryl Streep won her third Oscar.  To expand, other than a few surprises here and there, this year’s Oscars were fairly predictable.  The two films with the highest number of nominations tied for most number of wins, and everything else had to be content with only one or two awards.  At this point, everything else makes up details.

But let’s jump into those details for a little bit.  Here are my detailed thoughts on the eight major categories, as well as a variety of other miscellaneous reactions.

Best Picture: I had seen seven of the nine nominees (all save War Horse and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close), and to be honest, I thought they were all superb in their own way.  But my personal favorite was The Artist, and I was ecstatic to see it dance away with the top award.  The Descendants may be more moving, Hugo may be more technically accomplished, and The Tree of Life may be more challenging, but The Artist has the charm, nostalgia, and momentum to carry it to the top.  You won’t hear me complaining about its win.

Best Director: This was the one category whose nominees I had all seen.  And like Best Picture, I liked them all.  The Artist was truly the vision of Michel Hazanavicius.  To create a black-and-white silent film that resonates with 21st century audiences is no small feat, and Hazanavicius deserved this award.

Best Actor: This year, Best Actor was really a battle of charismatic leading men (George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Jean Dujardin) and two hard-working character actors (Damian Bichir and Gary Oldman).  Ultimately, the most charming of them all, Dujardin, won it.  I had seen the performances of Dujardin, Clooney, and Pitt.  Dujardin’s was the most effortlessly enjoyable, Clooney’s was the most heartbreaking, and Pitt’s was the moodiest.  Ultimately, the enjoyability factor secured a win for Dujardin.  I doubt many actors could have pulled off the charm that Dujardin did in The Artist; he made it almost look effortless.

Best Actress: Count me in as one of the many whose jaws dropped when Colin Firth read out Meryl Streep’s name, not Viola Davis’s.  Both performances are impressive, but all signs were pointing to Davis.  But Streep was long overdue for her third Oscar, and Davis’s role seemed more supporting than lead; she didn’t carry The Help like Streep carried The Iron Lady.  Davis is a talented performer, and I hope that she will have other shots.  For now, Streep and her fans can be content with her three Oscars, though I know there are some fans who won’t rest until she wins a fourth to tie Katharine Hepburn.

Best Supporting Actor: Of all the major categories, I was least invested in this one.  I haven’t seen Beginners, but it was brilliant to see Christopher Plummer win his first Oscar.  And to top it off, the win made history, as Plummer became the oldest Oscar winner ever.

Best Supporting Actress: This was one of the most predictable awards of the night, but I still smiled when Octavia Spencer won.  Although I enjoyed her performance in The Help, I thought that Viola Davis and Jessica Chastain both delivered stronger performances in the film.  I envision that both will win Oscars in the future.  Spencer could have this night.

Best Adapted Screenplay: This was the one award The Descendants took home, and I’m glad that film didn’t go away empty handed.  I think, however, that Moneyball would have also been a worthy winner.  The appeal of The Descendants stems from the emotion it illicits, but Moneyball’s success falls down to the writing.  I never would have thought I’d enjoy a film about baseball, but I enjoyed Moneyball.

Best Original Screenplay: To me, this was the strangest set of nominees: two nostalgic pieces (The Artist and Midnight in Paris), two contemporary and morally cloudy pieces (A Separation and Margin Call), and a broad comedy (Bridesmaids).  I’d seen all but Bridesmaids, and I would have been happy with any of them winning.  The Artist manages to convey everything without words, and speaking from very basic screenwriting experience, I can attest that this is more difficult that it looks.  Midnight in Paris is a smart romantic comedy full of literary and artistic references that harkened back to the 1920s.  A Separation explores the murkiness of the truth and the law.  Margin Call manages to make investment into compelling drama.  And Bridesmaids, well, I don’t know.  My heart wanted Margin Call to win, but J.C. Chandor’s nomination for his first feature is a victory in its own right; I sense a bright future ahead for him.  The winner was veteran Woody Allen for his marvelous screenplay for Midnight in Paris, and you won’t hear me complain about that at all.

Other Thoughts

  • It was tough to see the Harry Potter series go out without any Oscars.  The films are hardly astounding cinema, but they are technically well crafted and should have received at least one technical award along the way.  I was hoping for an Art Direction win this year, but, alas, that went to Hugo (as did Visual Effects).  Makeup went to The Iron Lady.  It’s hard to argue with the winners of these categories, but part of me wishes that the Academy had found room for just one Potter win.
  • Ludovic Bource’s win for Original Score for The Artist was one of my favorite moments.  Despite the Vertigo controversy, Bource’s work an exceptional score that blends in magnificently with the film.
  • It was wonderful to see A Separation, a truly fascinating film, win Best Foreign Language Film, but it was even better to hear Asghar Farhadi’s acceptance speech.  The Oscars this year came amid tensions between the United States and Iran, and it was great to be reminded that everyone is human.  Art has no boundaries, and A Separation proves that.
  • And finally, though the cinematography of Hugo is certainly accomplished, it was difficult to see the masterwork of Emmanuel Lubezki in The Tree of Life ignored.  The story of The Tree of Life may have been convoluted and frustrating, but the photography was a thing of beauty.

What are your reactions to the winners?

Silence Is Golden: Can the Awards Season Success of The Artist and Hugo Really Stimulate Interest in Silent Film?

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When the Oscar nominations were announced this morning, it came to no one’s surprise that The Artist and Hugo were among the Best Picture nominees.  Both have had stellar runs with the critics and with the guilds, and both fared well at the Golden Globes, winning, respectively, Best Picture (Comedy or Musical) and Best Director.  What is remarkable is that, with ten nominations for The Artist and eleven for Hugo, these two films stand apart from all the other nominees.  The movies with the next highest number of nominations – Moneyball and War Horse – landed (just) six nominations.

The Artist and Hugo, thus, have distinguished themselves as the Academy’s absolute favorite films this year.  It’s highly probable that one of them will walk away with Best Picture in February.  But what is also fascinating about them is that, in their own way, they are tributes to the early days of cinema, the days of the silent film.

In concept, The Artist more clearly fits this bill.  Presented as a black-and-white, mostly silent film, it echoes the films of the 1920s.  Its subject matter deals directly with the transition from silent films to talkies.  On the other hand, Hugo, at the outset, is not as obviously a tribute to early cinema.  As the story progresses, however, Hugo becomes a love letter to early silent films, especially those of French pioneer Georges Méliès.

It is an odd coincidence that these two markedly different films, united by a love for film, came out around the same time and now are poised to battle head-to-head for Best Picture.  With the considerable attention they are receiving, is it possible, then, that they will lead to increased interest in silent films?

Before seeing The Artist and Hugo, I had seen a few silent features and a handful of silent shorts, including Méliès’s A Trip to the Moon, featured prominently in Hugo.  I enjoyed them, but there was so much else to watch that I didn’t spend too much time looking to watch silent movies.  I admit that after seeing The Artist and Hugo, I’ve watched a few more silent features, and I now have a more pressing desire to see others.

However, I like to consider myself somewhat of a cinephile, though my cinephilia has only developed over the past couple of years.  Perhaps it’s because I am already somewhat of a cinephile that I had this reaction to The Artist and Hugo.  Is it likely that others will have the same desire to discover more about silent film due to these films?

Although both films are almost unanimously praised, neither has achieved blockbuster status.  With them now holding the status of the two most nominated films of the year, it is possible that more people will seek them out.  The question remains whether The Artist and Hugo can influence these average moviegoers to learn more about the silent era of cinema.

If you’ve seen The Artist and/or Hugo, did it/they inspire you to watch more silent films?  If you’re already a silent film fan, did you appreciate the tributes to them in these films?

Favorite Things About Film and Television in 2011

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As we approach the end of 2011, I thought I would share what I thought were some of the best things about film and television this year.

10) Karine Vanasse in Pan Am: I previously wrote about how Pan Am was struggling, lamenting its poor ratings in comparison with its quality.  While the quality of the show has been hit-or-miss since I wrote that post, one thing is constant: Karine Vanasse is easily the best thing going for the show.  Her Colette is head-over-heels more interesting than the other characters.  Unfortunately, the show doesn’t use her as often as it should, often relegating her to the sidelines.  The two episodes that do feature Colette front and center – “Ich Bin Ein Berliner” and “Unscheduled Departure” – are the show’s best so far.  I hope that Vanasse will have lots of offers when Pan Am is inevitably cancelled.

9) Midnight in Paris: I didn’t give Midnight in Paris much thought when it came out, and that was a mistake.  Several months later, several of my friends assured me that I would love it, and I was able to catch it at one of those discount theaters that shows movies on their way out.  And thank goodness I did.  As an aspiring writer and Hemingway fan, I found Midnight in Paris to be an absolute delight – a lovely, entertaining, and engaging film that reminded me why I love writing.  And to cap it off, it also resonated with me with its theme of nostalgia for the past.

8) Once Upon a Time: I didn’t know what to expect from Once Upon a Time, the fairy-tale drama from two of the writers of Lost.  As a major Lost fan, I was eager to give it a try, but to be honest, fairy tales aren’t entirely my thing.  Boy was I surprised.  Once Upon a Time has an interesting premise: what if fairy tale characters existed in modern day life but didn’t remember who they were?  The weaving of the modern day life and fairy tale life is fantastic, but what amazes me about the show is the strength of its characters.  You’ll come to care about everyone involved in the action, and some of them will break your heart.

7) Hanna: I previously wrote about how I find Hanna underappreciated, and what I wrote then still holds true.  Hanna is a slick little action film that is superbly acted and directed.  And the music?  I bet you’ll be humming it after the credits roll.  Give Hanna a chance if you haven’t.

6) Fringe: TV’s smartest scifi drama, Fringe continues to amaze me with its inventive use of the dual (or now triple?) universe.  But underneath the physics shenanigans is a story of a web of human relationships.  Even when Fringe manages of strip these characters of all they hold dear, something about these relationships still bubbles towards the surface.  This year, Fringe has been even more inventive than in the past.  I can never predict where Fringe is going to take us, and for that, I love it.

5) Hugo’s ode to cinema: Hugo is a film I would not have seen had I not read that it actually involves the theme of the power of cinema.  If Midnight in Paris reminded me why I love writing, Hugo reminded me why I love movies.  Interweaving the story of a boy’s quest to unlock what he thinks a message from his dead father with the history of French filmmaking pioneer Georges Méliès, Hugo is a testament to the power of imagination.

4) Incendies: Though this is technically a 2010 film, it only came out in the United States in 2011, so it’s included here.  Incendies is one of the best films I’ve ever seen.  It is a harrowing war story and a gripping human story at the same time, telling an intense family drama against the backdrop of something resembling the Lebanese Civil War.  But what’s so great about the film is that, while terrible things happen, nothing is overly graphic in representation; its strength is in what is left to the imagination.

3) The realism of The Good Wife’s Alicia Florrick: The Good Wife is a fantastic ensemble drama, but if its titular character weren’t so real, it wouldn’t be half as good.  Throughout the end of the second season and the beginning of the third season of The Good Wife, Alicia has dealt with major life changes, and watching her rage, her passion, her guilt, and everything in between has been a delight.

2) The Artist: The little film that could, The Artist is an absolute delight.  It’s hard to think of a film that is as likeable as it, and it exceeded all my expectations.  In my review of The Artist, I argued that it’s refreshing to see a silent film made in 2011.  The Artist shows us that story still matters more than effects.

1) The first season of Downton Abbey: Simply put, Downton Abbey has become my new entertainment obsession.  When I randomly sat down to watch the first episode when it aired on PBS, I had no inkling of how firmly it would grip me, or how many times I would feel compelled to watch it.  Julian Fellowes has created a masterpiece that is also riveting entertainment.  I’ve previously written about it, and I can’t help but place it at the top of this list.


What were your favorite things about film and television in 2011?

Review: The Artist (2011)

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It’s not every day that a new silent film is released.  Yet this season, exactly that has happened.  The Artist, a wonderfully engaging black-and-white silent film, has burst onto the scene, and if the audience I watched it with is any indication, this film is on its way to great popularity and commendation.

The Artist tells the story of silent screen star George Valentin, whose career struggles with the emergence of sound and the rise of talkies.  Meanwhile, he brushes shoulders with Peppy Miller, Hollywood’s newest rising star.  Though the story may seem familiar, it is nevertheless engaging.  The film features fantastic performances from stars Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo, both more known in Europe than in North America.  Also a standout is Uggie the Dog, who truly delivers a great little performance, driving several of the film’s key scenes.

Under the keen direction of Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist soars.  Watching a black-and-white film is already a nostalgic experience, but Hazanavicius’s use of silent film conventions makes The Artist even more special.  The film also contains an absolutely delightful score composed by Ludovic Bource.  On top of that, Hazanavicius plays clever tricks with sound in some scenes, but I won’t spoil them for you – they received the best reaction from the audience with whom I saw the movie.

Some might wonder what the point of seeing a black-and-white silent film in 2011 is.  And some might wonder if there is a point in even making a black-and-white silent film in 2011, when 3D and bombastic sound effects reign supreme.  However, consider this: it is said that 80% of communication is nonverbal.  When you look at it that way, there isn’t that much of a difference between how a silent film communicates and how a talkie communicates.  Watch The Artist – and other silent films – for their visuals and how they show that every human facial expression and action tells a unique story.