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Wednesday, February 20, 2013

The Shoulda-Been Contenders

WordMaster


                On February 24, at 7:00 pm EST, ABC will air the 85th Academy Awards in a lavish, star-studded and sure-to-be underwhelming ceremony that will be watched by many but not enough. This is Election Day for awards prognosticators – the culmination of twelve long, exhausting months of predicting, theorizing, arguing and overanalyzing. Could Argo possibly be the first film to win Best Picture without a Best Director nomination since Driving Miss Daisy in 1990? Will the talented and gorgeous Jennifer Lawrence defeat the equally talented and gorgeous Jessica Chastain for Best Lead Actress? Which widely respected Caucasian veteran will bring home Best Supporting Actor? What are the odds that Daniel Day-Lewis will leave empty-handed? These are a few of the burning questions that will finally be put to rest on Sunday (spoiler alert: the answer for the last question is zero).

Behold, a god among men.

                But I’m sure you don’t want to read another speculative essay about how the controversy surrounding Zero Dark Thirty destroyed its chances at Best Picture. Or about how there’s no conceivable way that Seth MacFarlane can surpass Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, who co-hosted a witty, heartfelt and all-around enjoyable Golden Globe ceremony earlier this year. As tempting as the latter proposition is, I would rather take a moment to recognize the shoulda-been contenders: the films and people that were, for whatever reason, overlooked this awards season. While I don’t necessarily think all of them should have been Oscar nominees (though some are certainly worthy), they deserved to be in the conversation, if not as serious awards contenders then at least as quality movies and performances.

                (FYI: I’m not including highly buzzed-about snubs like Ben Affleck and Kathryn Bigelow since, as admirable as they were, it’s hard to argue that they were genuinely ignored rather than just pushed out due to the limited number of slots. I am also not including performances and movies that I haven’t been able to see yet, so chances are, there are tons of worthy contenders missing from my list.)

                So, without further ado:
  

                The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Lead Actor, Best Supporting Actor) – This endearing slice of ‘90s high school nostalgia received warm, even ecstatic, critical reviews but didn’t make much of a dent in the box office, maybe because, despite being based on a wildly popular YA novel, it never expanded beyond 745 theaters. As a result, the movie flew a little under the radar, which is a damn shame because I can say without exaggeration that it is one of the best films about teenagers I have ever seen. Accompanied by a swoon-worthy compilation of quintessentially ‘90s indie rock songs (as well as one memorable David Bowie number), Perks successfully captures the carefree highs and angst-ridden lows of youth by taking the novel approach of portraying its adolescent protagonists not as one-dimensional caricatures who live on an entirely separate planet from the rest of the world, but as (gasp!) actual human beings. It is largely thanks to the shrewd, warmhearted script by writer-director Stephen Chbosky, who also penned the book, that the film manages to transcend the self-indulgent sentimentality and flippant clichés that too often plaque the genre. And the charming cast makes even the most melodramatic moments feel visceral and authentic. Especially impressive are Erza Miller, mesmerizing as the energetic, outspoken Patrick, and Logan Lerman, who inhabits the lead role with such soulful restraint that he makes shyness speak volumes. Simultaneously intimate and universal, earnest and perceptive, heartbreaking and triumphant, The Perks of Being a Wallflower says something true and immediate about growing up, one of the rare book adaptations that keeps the original’s heart and spirit intact. 

                The Avengers (Best Supporting Actress) – Joss Whedon’s blockbuster sensation is the definition of an ensemble movie. With all of the principal actors (save, perhaps, Jeremy Renner) receiving a roughly equal amount of screen time, everyone is likely to have his or her own idea of who the MVP should be. Personally, I was most blown away by Scarlett Johansson, whose tenacious yet haunted Black Widow provided a counterpoint to the still-prevalent theory that women can’t hold their own in action movies. Of course, the majority of the media discourse surrounding Johansson’s performance centered on either her miraculous ability to fit in a body-hugging leather suit or the fact that she apparently served no purpose in the movie other than to be the “token sexy female”. To the contrary, however, Black Widow was arguably the most compelling character in The Avengers (followed by Tom Hiddleston’s Loki), partly because her background was so enigmatic and partly because Johansson played her with an impeccable mixture of steely composure and quiet self-doubt. If Marvel doesn’t let her have a standalone film in the near future, there will be hell to pay.

                The Amazing Spider-Man (Best Lead Actor) – Who would’ve thought? Prior to last year, Andrew Garfield was known primarily for portraying troubled, socially awkward misfits in such movies as the criminally underrated Boy A, the tragic, contemplative novel adaptation Never Let Me Go and, of course, David Fincher’s searing 21st century masterpiece The Social Network. With his indie-leaning background and lanky frame, nothing about Garfield suggested that he’d make for an ideal superhero. But as it turns out, Spider-Man (or, more accurately, Peter Parker) was the role he was born to play. Regardless of how you feel about the rest of the movie (I found it flawed yet promising and a definite improvement on the Sam Raimi-helmed original), it’s hard to ignore the ease with which Garfield made the beloved character his own. Even when the film threatened to crumble under the weight of its constantly shifting tones and grandiose action sequences, Garfield held it together, the beating, riveting heart at the center of the CGI madness, and his chemistry with the under-utilized, albeit irresistible Emma Stone provided many of the movie’s best scenes (including one that was apparently, inexplicably cut from the final version). I still find myself consistently in awe of his ability to convey a storm of emotions through his posture alone. Forget the 3D web-slinging and expensive special effects; what’s truly amazing about this Spider-Man is that Garfield makes the iconic hero feel poignantly, at times brutally, real.

                Anna Karenina (Best Director) – Only eight years have passed since Joe Wright burst onto the scene with his surprisingly energetic adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, but he has already evolved into one of the most exciting young directors working today. Aside from the eminently forgettable The Soloist, all of his movies, from the aforementioned period piece to the artsy, Chemical Brothers-scored thriller Hanna, have at least been interesting, and he has displayed an admirable willingness to test the boundaries of genre. Anna Karenina is his most ambitious project to date, an adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s classic novel that takes place entirely on a series of stages. Technically, it is stunning, boasting lush costumes, sumptuous sets, deft cinematography and a gorgeous, classically-oriented score, which earned the movie a few well-deserved Oscar nominations. More importantly, Wright exercises just enough restraint so that the orgasmic visuals don’t distract from the main product. Some critics accused the film of being too bombastic, which is fair enough, though personally, I thought the theatricality and grandness aptly reflected the melodramatic tone of Tolstoy’s book (let’s face it, Anna Karenina has many good qualities, but subtlety is not one of them). Also, even if some of the source material’s richness is inevitably lost in the transition from page to screen, Wright and screenwriter Tom Stoppard do a fine job of condensing the sprawling original narrative down to a manageable size while maintaining its fundamental tone and themes. At a time when filmmakers are often accused of playing it too safe, Anna Karenina feels like a middle finger to convention, the bold, uncompromising vision of a director who isn’t afraid to take risks and let his freak flag fly.

I can dream

   This Is 40 (Best Lead Actress) – Leslie Mann has been working with director (and current spouse) Judd Apatow since her one-episode guest appearance in the short-lived yet near-perfect TV show Freaks and Geeks all the way back in 2000. Since then, she’s had roles in everything from The 40 Year Old Virgin to the indie drama Little Birds, yet she never really got the opportunity to show off the extent of her talent. Until now, that is. In This Is 40, the most mature – and meandering – entry in Apatow’s directorial career so far, Mann proves herself to be not only a reliably funny comedian but also a first-rate actress. Expanding upon her supporting role as the controlling, type-A Debbie from 2007’s Knocked Up, she gives a nuanced, always-convincing, often-touching performance that sheds light on her character’s plentiful flaws without reducing her to a shrill, one-dimensional cartoon. Even at her most overbearing, Debbie never ceases to be sympathetic. If anyone doubts that comedic actors can be just as compelling, just as complex and raw, as their dramatic counterparts, I dare you to watch Mann’s performance here and walk away with your mind unchanged.

                Seven Psychopaths (Best Supporting Actor) – Speaking of comedy, you can’t get much darker or edgier than this. Although a bit too self-conscious and over-the-top at times, Martin McDonagh’s follow-up to the hilarious, unexpectedly moving In Bruges is a blast to watch, a scathing, clever and gleefully offensive satire of Hollywood action movies. And just as In Bruges revolved around a gut-wrenching lead performance by Colin Farrell, Seven Psychopaths provides a much-welcome showcase for the regrettably under-appreciated Sam Rockwell, who has spent the vast majority of his career so far stranded in limited parts and terrible movies. The ensemble cast as a whole is terrific, including Farrell (the straight man here), an uncharacteristically subdued Christopher Walken, Woody Harrelson and countless cameos (my favorite is the opening scene with Michael Pitt and Michael Stuhlbarg), but this is, without a doubt, Rockwell’s show. When he is onscreen, which is luckily a lot of the time, it’s impossible to take your eyes off him; alternately smooth and maniacal, charismatic and despicable, earnest and ruthless, he chews scenery as though his life depends on it, turning in his best performance in years, maybe of his career. At last, here is a role that measures up to Rockwell’s talent, and it’s a joy to watch him tear it to shreds. Too bad the Oscars still treat comedy like, well, a joke.

                Django Unchained (Best Original Song, all of the actors besides Christoph Waltz) – Don’t get me wrong: I loved Christoph Waltz in Django Unchained, and I’m delighted that the Academy decided to recognize him. But of the four main actors in Quentin Tarantino’s insanely entertaining homage to spaghetti westerns, Waltz is probably the person I least wanted to see nominated. Leonardo DiCaprio has garnered a decent amount of attention for his explosive, no-holds-barred portrayal of pragmatic businessman/sadistic slave owner Calvin Coolie, not in the least thanks to a sizable portion of fans who resent the fact that he still hasn’t won an Oscar despite giving consistently superb performances throughout the past decade. It’s not quite as outrageous as Gary Oldman getting nominated for the first time only last year with his minimalist turn in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy or Peter O’Toole’s ongoing winless streak, which has spanned more than half a century and eight nominations, but it’s kind of crazy to think that DiCaprio hasn’t gotten a nod since Blood Diamond six (!) years ago. Still, as much as I enjoyed seeing DiCaprio finally get to be a bad-to-the-bone villain, I was most hoping to see Jaime Foxx and/or Samuel L. Jackson get recognized for their performances as the vengeful, man-of-few-words title character and a cantankerous, openly racist house-slave, respectively. I didn’t expect either of them to get nominated, since Waltz and, to a lesser extent, DiCaprio had dominated most of the awards conversation since the movie’s release, but it still seems vaguely wrong that a film centered on slavery has been recognized primarily for its white participants. Foxx in particular has been more or less ignored for his contribution as one of cinema’s few legitimate African American action heroes, even though his performance was, for lack of a better word, awesome. Most likely, Waltz and DiCaprio monopolized the awards attention simply because their roles are showier and allow for more scenery-chewing, but that doesn’t change the fact that Foxx, Jackson and even Kerry Washington, who may have had too small a part to merit an Academy Award nomination but nonetheless did a great job with what she had, seem to have been largely taken for granted. 

                There is no excuse, however, for the original song snub. At least in recent years, the Oscars have done a woefully bad job at selecting songs (fucking Rio, really?!), so it wasn’t really a surprise that not a single one of the four stellar contenders from Django Unchained made the cut. But I can’t get over the fact that apparently, the Academy preferred “Suddenly” from Les Miserables (the only song from the entire movie that isn’t even remotely catchy) to Anthony Hamilton and Elayna Boyton’s “Freedom” or John Legend’s “Who Did That to You?” I mean, “Before My Time” from Chasing Ice? Just… what? What the hell is Chasing Ice anyway? The dismal state of the category wouldn’t be so frustrating if there weren’t worthier choices out there, but 2012 was one of the better years for original song; in addition to the four songs from Django Unchained, we also got, among others, yet another good song from the Lord of the Rings franchise (though the shorter, ineligible dwarf-sung version is the real deal) and a fierce anthem from The Hunger Games sung by Arcade Fire (how cool would it have been to see them perform at the Oscars?).

Help us, Adele, you’re our only hope.

                The Dark Knight Rises (literally anything) – It’s no shock that the heavily anticipated conclusion to Christopher Nolan’s celebrated trilogy failed to land a Best Picture nomination, and even as someone who loved the movie, I can’t be too bitter about that. Of course, I would have been delighted if it did somehow manage to get a nod, if only to (partially) make up for the rightfully infamous snub of The Dark Knight, but admittedly, Rises isn’t quite the provocative, memorable and brilliantly executed pop culture landmark that its predecessor was. Still, after crafting one of the best and most complete cinematic series of the past decade, if not of all time, Nolan & co. deserved at least some awards recognition. Even just one lousy tech nomination would have sufficed, but instead, they got zilch, nada, zip, nothing. For god’s sake, Snow White and the Huntsman can now call itself an Oscar nominee, so it’s not like the bar is set particularly high. Also, aside from Heath Ledger, who was, to be fair, absolutely magnificent and earned every word of praise heaped on him, the actors have never received adequate attention for their work on the trilogy. In addition to great performances given by recurring players like Christian Bale, Gary Oldman and Michael Caine, who have all been so reliable since the beginning that it’s easy to forget how well-cast they are, Rises featured several welcome first-timers, most notably Tom Hardy and Anne Hathaway. Saddled with the unenviable task of following up Heath Ledger’s iconic Joker from The Dark Knight, Hardy was judged largely based on whether or not he measured up to his precursor, an unfair comparison considering 1) they were playing two completely characters and 2) it was flat-out impossible for anyone to surpass Ledger, both because he was just that good and because certain, tragic outside circumstances elevated his performance above mere greatness and into the realm of immortality. In the end, Hardy may have lacked the eerie charisma that made Ledger so unforgettable, but he compensated  for it with sheer intensity and screen presence, his insanely intimidating physique a tad reminiscent of his similarly vicious turns in Bronson and Warrior.

What the fuck are you, Tom Hardy?

                By many accounts, however, Anne Hathaway stole the film. As the opportunistic, sharp-tongued Selina Kyle, she infused the proceedings with a much-appreciated liveliness and provided an engaging foil to Bale’s brooding Bruce Wayne.  As much as I liked her performance in Les Miserables, if/when Hathaway walks up to the podium to deliver her acceptance speech on Oscar night, I’m going to secretly imagine that she won for Catwoman, not Fantine. Alternately self-confident and vulnerable, roguish and sincere, she provides a strong counterargument to the claim that Christopher Nolan doesn’t write good female characters, one of the few members of the femme fatale archetype who is allowed to have a life and story of her own.










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