1947: The Year that Santa was Proven Anti-Semitic in a Court of Law

What a weird-ass year this was (hyphen? No hyphen? Mom? Bueller?). Two Christmas movies, two movies about people who hate Jews, and some Dickens thrown in for good measure. It was pretty good overall. Well, I've seen worse. We'll put it that way. Definitely some zeitgeist going on here. And even though that's often annoying from an objective standing point, it's always an interesting marker of the times as I go back through the years.

One of those trends though...is too much forced romance. We see this a lot in The Bishop's Wife. I don't think this is a bad movie at all. It was pretty good actually. But I think the premise is far more fascinating than the delivery. It's about a lady who's married to a bishop. Obviously. But I'd have been far more interested in a movie called "The Bishop's Wife's Husband." He's the character that you think is going to be the main character, but Cary Grant ends up Kid Dyno-Miting himself into basically every scene. Cary Grant plays an angel who comes down from heaven to assist a preacher (played by David Niven) who has lost his way (ish). They could have gone in a lot of fascinating directions from here. How involved should the Almighty and his emissaries be in our everyday lives? Where is the line between showing us the door and walking us through the door? Do angels exist? If angels exist, do they make their own decisions or do they just follow instructions? All very fascinating questions that have plagued mankind since its inception (title drop!). But they instead decided to focus on two very different questions: "how many nifty magic tricks can Cary Grant do as an angel?" and "how much sexual tension can we get away with in 1947 involving a married woman and a supernatural being?" To be fair, I believe there was only one magic trick-y scene involving Grant's character. It annoyed me though. There's definitely a thread of excellence that goes through the film with its various cynical characters coming around to believe again. But they spent so much time on the romance (which was never going to go anywhere anyway) that the rest just gets lost in the background. It's still a charming movie and I'm betting that the last thing anyone wanted after World War II was a slew of existential questions...but still. All of this being said, I did quite like the ending and the speech that Niven gives near the end. They were well-done pieces of the movie that it could've been. It remains a good movie on a technical level, just not my cup of Kanar.

My favorite film of the year by far is Crossfire. I'd never heard of it before and it stars mostly people I haven't heard of (I know Robert Mitchum but that's about it). It's not a true film noir for various nit-picky reasons but its style is definitely film noir. The story revolves around the murder of a Jewish man and the group of demobilized soldiers who are being questioned about it. This is a great movie for a lot of reasons. For one: it keeps it simple. The movie is 86 minutes long, which is more than enough time to tell the story that they're telling. It doesn't get distracted by inane romantic sub-plots or useless character-building scenes that are meant to trick you into feeling sympathy for one character or another. It's just the investigation and the flashbacks. Plus, it has an intense ending that reflects the state of criminal justice in the 1940s. Not a system I'd want to be subjected to. But one that can inspire some schadenfreude when viewed in a fictional story. I've just realized that it might not be in the best taste to use douchey German academic words like "zeitgeist" and "schadenfreude" with all of the anti-semitism going around this year...so I'll try to watch that. Anyway, the word on the street is that the director and producer refused to testify before the House Un-american Activities Committee and that's why it failed to win any Oscars of any kind. I'd believe that, because a lot of crazy stuff like that went down back then with regards to award-giving. And there's some very impressive directing and intense acting in this picture. Ahead of its time in many ways. Definitely a gem of a film that deals with many of the same issues that this year's winner deals with, and it does a better job of it.

Another unexpectedly great movie was Great Expectations. Ahhhhhhh see what I did there? I usually expect these adaptations of classic novels to be overly long or bogged down with goofy sub-plots but this one was particularly well-done. It helps that it was directed by David Lean, a master of his trade even back then. Throughout the years, whenever my dad would tell me not to get hung up on things that happened in the past he would always use the example of Miss Havisham. She's not the focal point of the story but she's a fascinating cautionary tale. She was left at the altar by her soon-t0-be-husband and for the rest of her life remained in her wedding dress with all of her wedding decorations still up. Depressing! Her story always snapped me out of whatever melodrama I was experiencing as a teen though, so I suppose Dickens did his job quite well (Captain Obvious). The story actually revolves around a young fellow named Pip who is given the opportunity to live the life of a gentleman. With...wait for it...great expectations (boom! Title drop). One thing that did throw me off is that I thought this would be another Oliver Twist type of character who stays a kid for the entire movie. So when 30 minutes or so had passed and all of a sudden he was played by an older actor and time had progressed I was a little thrown off. Quite oddly, this is the exact same problem that the new Conan the Barbarian has. Just thought I'd throw those two stories together. This is always the difficulty of adapting a book: too much time and important life events to cover. But it's handled about as well as it can be, given the 2-hour running time. There are a lot of interesting and cerebral camera shots, especially for 1947, and all of the actors put in very subtle and powerful performances. I'm once again pleasantly surprised at the lack of over-acting in a 40s movie. This is also one case where I prefer the cheery ending of the film to the ambiguous one of the book. Don't let me imply that I've read the book because I haven't. But I looked up the main differences between the book and the film and in this instance I think the happy ending was earned and appropriate. So there you have it: not a curmudgeon all the time. Amirite?

Perhaps not, I'm about to put the smack-down on Miracle on 34th Street. What a bunch of drivel. I was expecting a heart-warming tale about a kid who believes in Santa and wants everyone else to believe in him too. A kid who has reason to believe that this person is actually Santa. What I got was some kind of weird courtroom drama that espouses that you can legally prove you're Santa by saying that you are. And all we get as an audience in terms of evidence (until the ending) is that he speaks Dutch (something they didn't even bring up in court). Here's what a good movie would have been: "a young child discovers that her local Santa Claus is, in fact, the real Kris Kringle. She has proof of this. The child then informs people of this but they are too cynical to believe. Cue an uplifting story about jaded adults who learn to believe in the unknown again. Adults who begin to have faith in something beyond themselves and beyond full understanding. They realize that after growing up they had forgotten how wonderful it was to be a child." That's pretty good. That's what I thought I was getting. Instead I got: "old guy who speaks Dutch claims to be Santa. He is taken to court for some reason. He keeps saying he is Santa. They eventually believe him. He's revealed to probably be Santa at the end when the kid's wish is granted." Whaaaaaaat? When they changed the game and made it a courtroom deal, they had to start playing by the rules of that genre. Which means that you need evidence beyond "well, he says he's Santa." The Macy's guy even has a vision of a newspaper that says "Macy's Santa proven to be a fake" and decides he needs to testify that the guy is Santa. Because he's clearly not afraid of a "Macy's CEO believes in Santa, proven insane" headline. Ridiculous. It's not heart-warming except for a few scenes at the beginning and the one at the end. So if you're not that then you have to be real. Engage in some real discussions in the courtroom about the merits of faith vs. evidence. Much like the other Christmas movie this year, they could have gone to some really interesting places. Or at least been the schmaltzy-but-enjoyable nonsense I was expecting. Instead it was neither and I was left wondering why it's the famous movie that it is.

This year's winner was also one that left me a bit underwhelmed but was still pretty good: Gentleman's Agreement. It's fascinating to me that in the wake of the Holocaust there was anti-semitism in America. That's staggering. Although I'm also not sure about how educated people were about everything that went on in World War II. And this was only 2 years after it ended, which is a pretty crazy thing to think about. Anyway, it's about a reporter who pretends to be Jewish in order to gauge people's reactions and feelings towards him. So I figured it'd sort of be like Ellison's "The Invisible Man." I was seriously expecting Gregory Peck to darken his skin and put on a yarmulke and have various sobering experiences as he went about his day. Instead he basically just had conversations with people about Jewish issues and then would randomly drop in: "I'm Jewish you know" and watch everybody get all awkward. Elia Kazan stated that this was one of his least favorite movies as a director, largely because it gets bogged down by pointless romance. See? It's not just me that says these things. I felt quite vindicated knowing that Mr. Kazan felt the same way that I do. It's not afraid to raise some interesting issues, which is pretty cool, but it also doesn't seem to go much of anywhere. There aren't any real stakes. He's just kind of...curious. And that's fine I guess but it's all just so underwhelming, especially as compared to a taut murder mystery with anti-semitism at its heart. The main character certainly learns his lesson, as I hope some audience members did, but that just makes it an especially well-done PSA. Not a bad movie by any means, but not a best picture in my book.

Well it took me longer than expected for me to put this entry up but what can I say? I'm a busy guy. Lots of tv to watch you know. Hopefully I'll get through this next year a little more quickly, we're kind of sort of reaching the home stretch on this escapade! I'm sure the next year will hold some intrigue as they always do. All I know for now is that it will involve more post-WWII woes, more schmaltzy Christmas cheer, and more Shakespeare. I could go back and make all 3 of those rhyme but I won't.

2011: The Year that was Out of the Past

For some reason a lot of the films this year were obsessed with the past. Whether it was the distant past or recent tragedies like 9/11, this year was all about it. Which is a cool thing, right? Mostly yes. But to be honest, I haven't been this unenthusiastic about a year of nominees in a long while. Maybe since 2005. I was a big fan of the winner and I wanted it to win, so that was pretty cool. And I'd even go so far as to say that I liked most of the nominees. But...they were just kind of bland. Nothing we haven't seen before. Not like last year's line-up of innovative films. You can't be original every year though. Which is why it's ironic that the year's most original movie was a throwback to the roots of cinema itself. So without further ado, here is yet another deluxe edition of my Oscar watch. 9 nominees people, prepare yourselves.

After all of that build-up, I didn't particularly like The Descendants. I am really glad that Jim Rash, one of the writers, won an Oscar though. Solely for the reason that he's on Community and now they can say "watch Oscar-winning actor Jim Rash on Community this Thursday at 8!" It's the only reason I'm glad it won for Adapted Screenplay because the movie is mostly twaddle. The acting is good, but the characters are annoying. Both daughters did a great job of being snotty daughters but that doesn't make it any less irksome. The film is basically about a man whose wife is in a coma and he's trying to raise his two daughters without her and as it turns out she was cheating on him. And there's something else about him having land that was left to him by his Hawaiian ancestors and whether he should sell it or not. I'm not sure what the pro/con list was for that land deal because the movie spends like 2 minutes on it. It seemed important though. So after much tedious family bickering which isn't funny (was it supposed to be? No idea) he finally tracks down the guy that was sleeping with his wife. And it's Shaggy. And Scooby-Doo was a while ago, because Shaggy got fat. So this woman was stepping out on George Clooney for fat Shaggy. Because that sort of thing happens. I'm sure it does, but as I've often mentioned: the movies have to be more realistic than real life. I don't make the rules...but that's one of them. Well as it turns out this guy only seduced her because of Clooney's land claim. So what is the point of this movie exactly? It has all the makings of a great dark comedy. Except it isn't funny. Most of it comes off as melodrama more than anything else. I was legit expecting to like this one too. Alexander Payne directed and I'm a fan of his other work. Plus one reviewer called it "a bit sitcom-y" so I figured the issue was that it was too goofy. As opposed to too stereotypical. Oh the one daughter has lost her way since her mom was in a coma! Oh the younger one might be going down the same path! Yawn.

Continuing on this negative trend is Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. My friend Andrew said he read one critic that postulated: "is this movie one of the worst ever to be nominated for Best Picture?" The answer is: quite possibly. It has a 40% on Rotten Tomatoes...so that's unusual. You may notice that the vast majority of the time I spend bashing movies is usually about the story or the themes or the acting or the style. Things that I'm not a personal fan of. This doesn't necessarily mean that the movies are bad. It often means they shouldn't have been nominated...but that's different. This is legitimately not a very good movie. It's not awful but it's pretty bad. It's sloppy and the premise is a thinly veiled "oh let's mine people's emotions by having it be about 9/11." It is based on a book but that just means my issue is with the author. I could look up who that is but I don't care enough. In the age of Wikipedia, that's saying something. The movie is about this kid whose dad died in 9/11 and he (the dad) leaves him (the kid) a key that opens a lock somewhere in the city. Or a door. Or something. Because it's feasible that a person could find said locked object in a city like New York. He does have a clue: the last name of Black. Of all of the surnames they picked Black. The kid literally has lines like "I found 3 Blacks today" "there are a lot of Blacks in New York City" and other eyebrow-raising phrases. They must have known this. Right? I just don't know anymore. Anyway, the kid teams up with his grandfather (spoiler alert! That old guy is his grandfather) who has taken a vow of silence or something. Those parts were definitely the closest to being real scenes. The flashbacks with his dad (Tom Hanks) were good too at times. Their "oxymoron duel" was cute. But the movie is almost entirely about the kid, who is just super annoying. The old guy's story is far more interesting. He never speaks in the movie. They just abandon his perceived character arc entirely. And of course the search for the lock is really just him coping with his dad dying and yadda yadda. The part at the end where his mom reveals that she's been helping him along the whole time was nice. But the whole thing is just sloppy. Poorly constructed and overly done with too many similar scenes. The idea is interesting and maybe could've made a good short film but that's about it.

Right then, on to one I unexpectedly enjoyed: The Help. It's Oscar bait and it's manipulative but I still liked it. Mostly because it was intelligently done and well-acted. If it had won anything besides stuff for acting I would've been pissed. But it didn't, and it was a popular movie and got nominated so that's always pretty cool too. It's basically about a young white girl writing a series of articles that reveal the struggles of the maids who work for her overly snooty neighborhood. All of the maids are black of course, as this was the still-racist 60s in the South. The supporting roles definitely steal the show in this one. In fact, in addition to the Octavia Spencer/Jessica Chastain storyline being more enjoyable than the Emma Stone/Viola Davis one...I actually felt like they were in it more. I was surprised when Spencer was the Supporting Actress nominee and Davis was the Actress nominee. Emma Stone was an interesting character in a way, don't get me wrong, but not as fun as Jessica Chastain. Not even a little. Stone's character was kind of a Moses figure, which is something I wish they'd done more with. One of the main cruxes of the film is the idea that these maids raise the white children who then grow up to be their new masters. So Emma decides she wants to "free" them in a sense by making their voice heard. So...raised by slaves...wants to free them...doesn't feel at home in her own society...see where I'm getting this Moses thing? It does come to fruition I suppose but she ends up sort of being the MacGuffin for the movie more than anything else. Still an interesting thought. The Octavia Spencer story is much more the "odd couple" type storyline, which has been a staple of the industry for a reason. It's predictable but it's fun. The chemistry between the two actresses was undeniable. Then it'll switch over to Viola Davis and she's just being kind of pouty the whole time. Boooooooring. Well-done...but still. The movie is a bit long for what it is but I definitely enjoyed it: once again proving I do indeed like stuff that I expected to hate (on occasion).

Easily my second favorite film of the nominees was Hugo. I was expecting to not like this movie up until the second I actually started watching it. All of the commercials made it look like a schlocky kids movie that's little more than substance-less fun. And then I saw a clip on The Daily Show with a terrible special effect involving a wind-up mouse. Knowing Scorsese, it was probably intentionally odd-looking in the same way the blue peas were in 2004's The Aviator (check my write-up, it'll make sense) but it takes you out of the scene all the same. As it turns out: the movie is wonderful. It's about a young orphan who meets the pioneering filmmaker Georges Méliés and helps to bring his work into the spotlight once more. But it's about so much more than that. It's about how the cynicism that followed World War I destroyed the idea of an escapist film. Well, destroyed it for a little while. This is not unlike the rampant cynicism that has been flooding our fiction since 9/11. It's there, even if you don't know it. I'm not saying this movie is about 9/11, so stop wondering! I'm just saying we've become a cynical society and this movie is asking us to believe in the magic of dreaming again. As though we were wide-eyed children like Hugo and his ladyfriend (significantly more charming, yet less badass, than she was as Hit Girl in Kickass). I had the privilege of seeing many of the films portrayed within this movie and so it was nice to see them be "mainstream" even if they were just clips. So basically: it's every bit the schmaltzy movie that it looks like. It's just one that I happen to like. This is also largely due to the fact that the film doesn't focus nearly as much on the relationship between Hugo and Méliés as the trailer implied. Because that whole "kid in need of a father-figure, old guy in need of a son-figure" schtick is dead now because Up did it perfectly. It was more about the relationship between the kids. And Hugo brings Méliés back from "the edge" if you will, but it's in a more understated and effective way than it would have been in the hands of a lesser director.

Another unexpected delight was Midnight in Paris. I'm wary of any movie that has "in Paris" in the title but this was actually quite good. It's Woody Allen, who's been stale in recent years (read: since 1977), and the Netflix sleeve did it no justice. It says something like "a couple vacationing in Paris begins to examine their relationship." Nowhere in that description is there a mention of time-travel or the meeting of amazing artistic minds from the early 20th Century. Umm...why? Not only is that basically the whole movie, that's pretty cool! How many movies say that they're about a couple examining their relationship? Every Kate Hudson, Kristen Bell, and Julia Roberts movie. Times 47. How about a delightful movie about a writer who gets to travel back in time and meet people like Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Salvador Dalí? Not nearly enough of those around. In true Woody Allen fashion, the time travel is never explained. Nor should it be. It is a comedy after all, not a laugh-out-loud one but a fun one. The dialogue is fresh and the actors deliver it well. A true ensemble performance. Great actors like Adrien Brody stop in for like 2 minutes, which shows you the type of gravitas Woody Allen brings with him. Don't tell anyone, but I'm kind of a hopeless romantic. You have to earn it with me though. Which is good because otherwise I'd probably like chick flicks. This is an intellectual's (and yes: snob's. I'll say it) romantic film and it definitely worked its magic on me.

A movie I was less enthusiastic about but still liked is Moneyball. After admitting my hopeless romanticism in the last paragraph I probably shouldn't mention that I like Brad Pitt in pretty much anything. But...I like Brad Pitt in pretty much anything. I used to think he was a useless prettyboy. And then I saw Fight Club. And Se7en. And like a million other things. The dude is legit. I also have to give props to Jonah Hill, who has come a long way from being the fat kid in Superbad. Now then, this is the closest thing to a nihilistic sports movie that I've ever seen. Brad Pitt says at one point that even though their team had the biggest winning streak in American League history, if they don't win the World Series no one's going to care. And that's pretty true. I didn't even remember this whole story happening and it happened like 10 years ago. It also taps into the inherent meaninglessness of the whole sports scene. And yet, how that makes it meaningful. You'd expect such a thing from a movie co-written by Aaron Sorkin. I've said it before, that man has so much talent that it's literally disgusting. I want to punch him in the face and then beg him to teach me his ways. I can tell a lot of the lines of dialogue within the movie that are his because his style is unmistakable. That's the main highlight. The story itself is mostly like every other sports movie, except that they don't win the championship of course. They do point out that the money-saving technique described in the movie was used by the 2004 World-Series-winning Red Sox, so that was pretty cool. One of my friends did point out that if you're not a baseball fan then you probably have no reason to like this movie. That's probably true. I am a fan so it's hard for me to say for sure. But that's probably accurate. It's also a little overly long and the tones are kind of all over the place. I definitely enjoyed it for what it was though. Not a life-changing movie by any means but a good one.

Now we come to the movie I have the most and the least to say about: The Tree of Life. W.T.F. That's all I have to say. I don't know if I liked this movie or hated it. I don't know if it's good or not. I don't know who I am anymore after I watched it. I will say this: it held my attention more than any film has in a long time. Because I was mesmerized by it. Not even in a good way. Not remotely in a good way. In a fascinated way? Perhaps. I both want no one to suffer through this movie and want everyone I know to watch it, just in case we can figure out what it means sometime before those infinite monkeys write "Macbeth." It's supposed to be about a boy who loses his innocence (not in a Mrs. Robinson way, in a Colonel Kurtz way) after the death of his brother. What it's actually about is a bunch of quasi-philosophical jargon that's offset by some admittedly beautiful cinematography and then there's a 20 minute sequence about the beginning of the universe. Sean Penn is in it and doesn't talk. Jessica Chastain is in it and floats. Dinosaurs are in it without Jeff Goldblum. W.T.F. There's hardly even a complete sentence for 45 minutes. The middle portion, which is more coherent, is actually pretty good. It deals with the boy's relationship with his father (Brad Pitt, who's everywhere) and is actually a fascinating character study in many ways. Too bad most of the audience is already asleep. Sean Penn himself (who, I take it back, has one line of dialogue in narration) said that when he read the script it was the best he'd ever seen...but that's not indicative of the film. Terrence Malick is notorious for being weird and also for filming like 4 hours worth of movie. The fact that any bit of it can be cut out without detracting from the overall point is very telling. I feel like there was a lot more with the boy when he grows up to be Sean Penn. Or perhaps there was just more floating. Lots of fascinating things at play to be sure. And I actually would like to watch it again someday with some other seasoned film veterans. But it makes 2001 look like it has the over-coherence of a CBS crime drama.

Almost the complete opposite of that movie is War Horse. It's basically every easily digestible 1950s movie you've ever seen. Except prettier. It's definitely beautifully filmed and John Williams, as always, delivers an incredibly beautiful music score. It's very problematic as a movie though. The only main character is the horse...and it's not a Pixar horse so it doesn't really work. There's no one you can really connect with. Which is unfortunate because even when I thought the whole movie was the boy and his horse I knew it'd have issues. It's pretty blatantly a movie that's trying to make you cry, and not exactly for much reason. Which is fine but it kind of bothers me on a fundamental level. But it's not even that. Different actors and characters fade in and out of the movie and so you have no one to relate to. You care about the horse immediately and you want to see him survive. But A) it's not really a character, as pretty as it is and B) you know he'll survive so the driving force of the movie is a foregone conclusion. The boy does get reunited with his horse and it's all very nice but I'd have liked it much better if we saw what the boy was up to the whole time. Don't get me wrong, the movie has some stunning cinematography and some truly breathtaking scenes. It'll make you cry and it'll swell your heart, just as promised. And the horse is undeniably awesome. But I guess I was expecting a bit more from Spielberg, especially since he doesn't make as many movies nowadays. Definitely worth watching, but not quite as good as I was hoping.

And now the ever-elusive film that I wanted to win...and is also this year's winner: The Artist. Overall, this year wasn't very impressive for films. So it was a great year for this little gem to sneak in and snag the Best Picture award. It's the first true silent film in a long, long time. I say that because Mel Brooks' 1970s spoof doesn't really count. In a year where every movie was looking back, this film was looking forward. It sounds strange but it's true. It's about a silent film star who is dealing with his increasingly obsolete career in the face of the invention of talking films. It's all done in a completely delightful and fun way, but that's the underlying theme. He's trying to hang onto the past; no matter how increasingly irrational that goal is. He soon meets a young actress and they are quite smitten with each other, but she becomes a rival of his when she begins to headline a lot of "talkies" (as they called them). Eventually he decides that he cares more about her than he does about his "legacy" as he thought it would be. The film ends with the uplifting thought that he'll have a successful second career, which not every silent screen actor was given. That's pretty much the whole movie. Quite simple. Also quite enchanting. As my friend Andrew pointed out (maybe he should have his own blog, I've stolen enough of his ideas today): Hugo told us why we should care about old movies but The Artist showed us why. It is both a love letter to silent films and a subtle spoof of them. There are lots of little moments that play with the genre (if you can call it that), such as someone moving their lips a lot with the caption "yes" or someone mumbling briefly followed by a large paragraph. There was also a brilliant misdirect that had to do with the imaginary sound effects of silent movies. And of course...I'm a sucker for dream sequences and this movie has a nightmare sequence about the onset of sound in the movies that is simple stunning. I can't recommend the film enough, it's obviously not the most innovative or incredible movie of all time but it is a supreme delight and it's hard for me to imagine anyone not liking it. I'd like to think that when the Academy Awards began in 1927, that was the only criteria required for a Best Picture win.

Well that's it for this year. Now my blog is going to go hide in obscurity for another year. For you persistent readers: my 1947 entry should be up in a week and a half or so. Depending on how quickly I feel like sitting through some intense dramas involving a lot of anti-anti-semitism. Good stuff...but rough I'm sure. For the rest of you: I'll see you in 2013 for next year's Oscar round-up! Avengers, anyone? Doubtful. But one can hope.

1948: The Year that The Melancholy Dane Donned a TuTu

You'd think my title was a merge between the famous Shakespeare play and a ballet movie but oh...it wasn't. It's just the play. Despite my title's implication, this was quite an edgy and dark year. Which is odd because I'm sure the people back then were thinking that a new age of harsh films was about to be ushered in. Well I've seen the 50s nominees and this was largely not the case. So what happened? This was such a great year with such interesting stories and even though several of them ended more cheerfully than I would've liked...they were still pretty excellent. Perhaps America cried out in disgust and they scaled it back. I have no idea. But let's hope that this trend continues on my reverse journey because if it does then the 40s are going to be awesome.

Well after all of that buildup we start off with the only movie this year that I thought was crap: Johnny Belinda. It seems that even in 1948 there were exploitative films that were edgy just for the sake of being edgy. That's how I viewed this film. Because other than the acting, which netted Jane Wyman an (in my opinion: undeserved) Oscar, there's no point in this movie existing. It only seems to be here to shock people and to be an excuse for audiences to say: "what a powerful performance." As has been said many times, if you play someone disabled in a "high brow" film then there's a good chance you'll get a nomination. Tom Hanks, Daniel Day-Lewis, the list goes on. I think it's kind of a cheat. You're playing someone who inherently garners sympathy by being disabled and since the manner in which these characters think and act is foreign to most of us it concordantly feels more like "acting." The same goes for playing psychopaths but I'd say that for the most part, they at least have actual characters and there's more to them. In the case of this film, Jane Wyman plays a deaf-mute woman named Belinda. So her whole performance is just with expressions. Impressive? Sure. But then again, I think acting is about subtlety. So once again: it's a cheat to telegraph all of your emotions because that's what your character needs to do. Of course it's realistic but from a purely objective standpoint...it's a cheat. Anyway, the first 40 minutes might as well be the Helen Keller story. Then she gets raped. Then she has a baby. Then the father of the child tries to steal the baby with his wife and Belinda shoots the guy (!). She then goes on trial and is acquitted. Cue happy ending music. Whaaaaaaaaa? It's based on a true story but there are lots of messed up things that happen which don't need to be movies. The film is mostly known for being the first to really deal with issues like rape in an in-depth way. To which I say: that's disappointing. The first movie to deal with such a heavy and important subject should've been more than a 102 minute excuse to shoot a rapist with a shotgun. I'm always in support of movies that shoot rapists with shotguns or other firearms but there should be more to it.

A far better film that I shockingly really liked is The Red Shoes. It's about ballet. This means there are entirely too many ballet movies that I like (2). And this one was likely an influence on the other one: Aronofsky's masterpiece, Black Swan. When I read the Netflix description of: it's about a lady who has to choose between her love of ballet and her love of guys with moustaches (slight alteration), I was thinking it'd be crap. Well, high-class drivel anyway. It ties in with a Hans Christian Anderson tale also entitled "The Red Shoes" which is about a ballet dancer who uses a pair of red shoes (shocking). But when she wants to stop dancing, the red shoes don't. So that's already a very interesting little morality tale about obsession with one's work. But it goes far beyond a brief mention at the beginning of the film. The ballet dancer's lover creates a ballet based around the story, which of course becomes the writing on the wall for the fate of the characters. The movie starts off somewhat slowly but the cinematography soon makes it simply mesmerizing. Its usage of color was particularly impressive, considering the year. And the lengthy ballet sequence was just incredible. Very cerebral filmmaking for 1948. The ballet plays out in an eerie, dreamlike way. There are a lot of reds and dark colors, creating an almost afterlife-esque feel. See now, remember when complained at length about the overly long dance sequence in An American In Paris? That's because that was bloated and useless. This meant something. There was a story to this dance sequence, both within the ballet itself and as a reflection of the main character's inner struggle. This is always a fascinating theme to me in many movies: career vs. relationship. To me it's always been a struggle between immortalities. You live on through your children but will be forgotten after a few generations. If your career is impressive enough then you will be immortal through that but you'll likely live your life utterly alone and probably miserably (if the "tortured writer/artist" stereotype is to be believed). Kind of a lose-lose. But that's the human condition for you. She initially picks her lover but will that last? As per usual, I don't want to spoil movies that I find actually good. Apparently this is one of Scorsese's favorite movies and I can see why. It was a truly great surprise to discover this film and it reminded me why I went on the escapade in the first place.

Another surprisingly great and dark film was The Snake Pit. Its ending was a little too upbeat for my taste and they missed a great opportunity to have a Twilight Zone ending (before that show was made of course). But it was still a great piece of acting by Olivia deHavilland and I think she should've taken home the Oscar instead. Even though she's playing someone who's losing her mind and that can also be a cheat: she has an actual story arc. There are flashbacks to when she was first losing her mind, further flashbacks to when she was sane, and then she brings her way back around to sanity again (probably). So there's a lot of variety in there. If she was just being crazy the whole time then I'd say forget it. But that wasn't the case. Essentially this is just about a woman in an insane asylum who is trying to remember what happened to her with the help of various psychiatrists. Its usage of flashbacks was particularly forward-thinking back then, in terms of how they're used to slowly reveal her backstory. Notice how I'm pointing out that it was both innovative and effective. They weren't doing flashbacks just to do them; they made sense within the story. That's how it's done when you're doing it correctly. Her condition ties into a very Electra-esque complex involving her father which is truly fascinating. And we're left with this question at the end of whether she's truly cured or not (at least I was). All in all some pretty great stuff.

Another good one that I had actually heard of before (getting rare these days) is The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. I asked my dad what it was about and all he said was "greed." He's ominous and cool like that sometimes. And I couldn't have said it any better myself. It's about treasure hunters looking for gold in the mountains who let their lust for money get the better of them. This is another one with an oddly upbeat ending, but considering someone had been beheaded in the movie fairly recently it was actually a disturbing ending...so it was pretty cool to me of course. And any movie that involves Bogart in a cool hat automatically goes up a few points in my book. Something truly fascinating that it touched on with one brief scene (but an important scene that also established a main theme of the movie) is the idea that gold is inherently worthless. This is something I've been thinking about for a while: the idea that money is essentially based on the honor system. A heavily regulated and enforced honor system of course...but an honor system nonetheless. The guy essentially says that the pursuit of gold is circular reasoning. People spend so much time trying to find it that its worth increases due to the amount of man-hours spent trying to find it. That's why the whole thing kind of baffles me. You find some food or some shelter and that's inherently useful. Gold is the world's most expensive paper weight. A vestige from humanity's "ohhhh look, shiny!" age which is all too prevalent today. The fascinating thing about this film is that some of the characters start going crazy before all that much money is involved. And they also have to keep the whole operation a secret because otherwise hordes of people would be scouring the same location. So their wealth wouldn't be readily attainable anyway. It's all about the idea of the money. The idea of having more than your fellow man. The paranoia that their chief priority is taking what you have. It's the world's most destructive pissing contest. This is why I find it so funny that the oft-quoted line from the movie is "we don't need no steenking badges!" In addition to being misquoted anyway, that's one of the goofier scenes in the movie. It touches on another major theme of corruption within organizations with money...but still. Odd that such a great movie about such an important issue is mostly remembered for funny Mexican accents. But that's society for you.

Which brings me at last to this year's winner, a film I had some mixed feelings about: Hamlet. This is THE version according to most people. It stars Laurence Olivier (not yet a "sir") who was once known as "the greatest actor in the English language." I'd hate to have that title personally. Pressure! He requested any slobbering actors that met him to call him "Larry," as he was uncomfortable with his acclaim. This is what has always saved his performances for me, because I know that he holds himself to a normal standard and not a crazy one. And his performance in this is undeniably excellent of course, but I was never a big fan of the play. It runs the same risk as Olivier himself, interestingly, because it's so often called the greatest play of all time that when you finally read it or see it you're kind of like "eh?" Well, when the "you" in that sentence is "me" anyway. I was always more of a "Macbeth" man myself. Or "Richard III" or "Henry V" or any number of ones besides this one. Macbeth and his wife go on a true character journey. He starts out as the reluctant villain and she is the criminal mastermind and by the time it's the end they've switched places. Great stuff. Richard III was the pre-modern Tyrion Lannister (of Game of Thrones fame): an impish genius who connives behind the scenes to manipulate people who are dumber than him (which is everybody). Hamlet is about a guy who sits around and whines because he wants to bang his mom. There's more to it of course but that's essentially it. He sits around contemplating for 4 hours (this version is 2 1/2, which many purists complained about but I say it's still too long) and is basically in the same position at the end that he was in at the beginning. Except he's dead now. That's his whole character journey: melancholy dane to melancholy dead. There are speeches in it that I've always really liked (especially poor Yorick) but that's about it. What's cool about it is that it's directed in a very interesting manner. I read that it was emulating Citizen Kane but it more reminded me of a lot of Bergman films. Very cerebral and ominous and odd. Stuff that should make you laugh from the hokey delivery but instead really creep you out. And it all looks like it was filmed on a stage (which I'm sure it was) but this actually helps the feel. Due to some aspects of the story being a "play-within-a-play" and of course the play itself having been popularized on stage, this really works. Not that this is intentional, I'm sure they had to film on a stage, but it's effective anyway. So for the atmospheric cinematography and acting I give them a lot of credit. And by "them" I largely mean Olivier who also directed. But it definitely isn't as good as The Red Shoes, which was also robbed of a cinematography Oscar. But when you drop the Bard on Hollywood, this can be the effect. I enjoyed it more than almost any other Shakespeare movie I've seen though, I'll say that.

Well that was overall a pretty excellent year. They're reinforcing the idea that I really should've lived in the 40s. Awesome suits, awesome hats, awesome cinema. I hope that next year continues the positive trend. All I know for now is it'll include a possibly drunken clergyman, a possibly drunken Santa, and a possibly drunken anti-semite. Just got real on you on that last one.

1949: The Year that I Was Into Before Everyone Else Thought It Was Cool

I'm hipster-ing it up in Starbucks right now so I thought I'd stick in a hipster title. Also: it's getting increasingly difficult to come up with clever titles when basically everything is about World War II. This was a pretty solid year actually. I knew I'd enjoy the winner and it exceeded expectations. But on top of that: there was a melodrama I actually enjoyed (gasp!) and the World War II movies actually resembled something different. Not bad!

We begin with Battleground. At first I was like, "oh look another movie about how war is bad and stuff. Or about how war is good and stuff." I actually thought it played out quite well though. It reminded me of the tones set in the excellent Band of Brothers and somewhat-less-excellent-but-still-good The Pacific. It portrays the soldiers as human beings without explicitly manipulating you into caring about them. No monologues about "my girl Jenny back home" or "my little brother died when I was 9 and that scarred me." Just soldiers on the battlefield, involved in one of the most influential and famous battles in WWII history: The Battle of Bastogne. They might be playing imaginary baseball one second and ripping a German's throat out with their teeth the next second. Which brings me to another upshot: it was pretty freaking explicit for 1949. The throat-ripping occurred off-screen of course, but that makes it even more effective (something a lot of filmmakers today don't seem to understand). All you see is the American jumping on the German and then you see the German's feet go limp. Then the American stands up and wipes blood from his mouth. There was also an American soldier hiding in the snow and dying because he stayed too long and a German being brutally stabbed to death. We're talking about some pretty intense crap. That's what gave it some extra oomph. I might have mentioned this in my 1998 write-up (who remembers? No, seriously, does someone remember?) but my favorite Saving Private Ryan scene is when we find out that Tom Hanks is a high school teacher. It really brings home that point that the fate of the world rested not on a bunch of Batmen and Jason Bournes but instead on the soldiers of everyday people. So all of that mixed with the fact that this particular movie was a good length at about 2 hours, made it a pretty unexpectedly great film.

Something I totally expected to hate but ended up enjoying is The Heiress. Just from the title you can tell that I would be apprehensive. I'm thinking: "right then, here's another melodrama that will try to tug at my heartstrings before it ultimately ends up happy and stuff." Not the case at all. Everyone ended up miserable in the end. Just like all of my favorites! It's about a rich heiress (predictably) who is supposed to be quite plain-looking (they made up Olivia de Havilland to look ordinary) and how an attractive younger man is attempting to woo her. Her oppressive father thinks it's just because of her money but she thinks he legit cares about her. Cue the cheesy music and the womanly swoon as it's revealed that he really does care. Nope! He pretty much was just interested in her money...maybe. They leave it somewhat ambiguous. But he definitely does leave her on the eve of their elopement (eloping? Elopage?) and she becomes Mrs. Freeze. In the end, her father is dead and she doesn't care. And when her former lover returns, she pretty much tells him to get lost. Her housekeeper tells her she's become quite cruel, to which she responds: "I have been taught by masters." Chilly! They also kept it to an appropriate 115 minutes. This meant that almost every scene was important and moving along the story in some way. So this proves that a drama that takes place mostly on one set and with only 3 or 4 main actors actually can be compelling. On a side note about happy endings: too often they feel like the end of a whodunit. As though the whole thing was leading up to that one revelation and there's no point in the rest of the story existing, except for the purposes of stalling. That's why sad endings are better. Or: powerful endings that are happy but required some sacrifice or hardship first. The people involved with this film knew what was up. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering William Wyler was the director. Look him up, you'll be shocked at how many famous movies one man can direct.

A movie that I actually own (somewhat knownst to me) is A Letter to Three Wives. When I graduated from high school, my dad's best friend hand-picked about 6 or 7 DVDs for me that he considered classics. This was one of two that for some reason I hadn't watched yet. And I can't disagree with a single choice of his. Side note: one of them was Out of the Past, a truly fantastic noir with a really rotten femme fatale. Love that stuff. Anyway, this movie I thought was quite good aside from the setup. I thought that was a little thin. Basically, it's about a woman who sends a letter to her three ladyfriends that says: "I'm stealing one of your husbands, best of luck over the next hour and forty-five minutes figuring out who." Well, something like that anyway. The rest of the movie is told in flashback though. And the backstories are fascinating little vignettes that are well-acted and compelling. I think vignette-y stories can be a waste or a cheat sometimes. But when they're done well, like this one, they're very effective. Because you're getting several complete stories that intertwine in interesting ways. In fact, I found myself thinking that a lot of the other relationship dramas I've viewed were basically one of the backstories stretched out into a full movie. Whereas this film wisely keeps each individual story to no more than 30 minutes or so. Over the course of the film, they leave you with an odd feeling because none of the marriages are particularly sound. So not only could any one of them be splitting up with their husband, you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. They might be better off. Or perhaps the overall point is to work it out. It has a predictably happy ending, that the book apparently didn't exactly share, but even so: the overall ambiguity through most of the film was quite compelling. See? There's two examples of borderline-melodrama that I've enjoyed. Maybe something is just wrong with my brain. Don't worry, soon my 2011 entry will be up (after the Oscars air later this month) and that is sure to get me all ranty.

A film I found fairly "meh" but not necessarily bad is Twelve O'Clock High. It's got Gregory Peck, who looks exactly the same in 1949 as he did in 1962 (insult? Compliment?), and it's about dogfighters during World War II. Now here's an important note on grammar and pronunciation kids. "Dogfighters" means people who channel the Red Baron and get all retro badass in their old-timey planes (or "now-timey" planes, as they were known back then). Dogfights are cool. "Dog fights" are not cool. That's when certain NFL quarterbacks decide that croquet has gotten a bit old and decide to instead be incredibly cruel to animals that are awesome. And then they get less time in prison than someone under SOPA would get for posting a video of their kid singing Frank Sinatra. Oops...didn't mean to get all political on you there. Nawwwwwww but...SOPA is dumb. I feel quite certain that the people who wrote it don't know what the difference is between what the Internet actually is and Tron. Anyway...back to World War II stuff. This movie was about 20 minutes too long but I found it to be overall interesting. It's mostly people talking in a room but there are also some thrilling flying sequences, which were apparently made up of actual footage from World War II pilots on both sides. That was probably a super awkward conversation when whichever producer asked the Germans for some Luftwaffe footage. Like: "oh hey, so you guys have been decimated twice in about 30 years by us and our allies but can we get some footage of you sucking horribly? Kthanks." The finest parts of the film, however, are the beginning and the end. Very contemplative stuff. It begins and ends with a former soldier visiting a location that was once a key battle spot during the war. It was overgrown with foliage and peaceful. No one would be able to inherently tell that such horrific bloodshed once took place on that very spot. A message of peace? That the toils of war have been buried by beauty? Or perhaps a message of the futility of war? Both? That's why I'd call it contemplative, there's no inherent definite meaning or "right answer." It just makes you think. Whereas a lot of movies like this would have a guy stop and be like, "what was the point of it all? Gahhhhhhhh!" That's a little much. This was intelligently done and well-acted throughout. So even though it wasn't great, I can't really fault them for any of it.

This year's winner is one of my favorites from the whole escapade and is perhaps more relevant today than it was back then: All the King's Men. What a fantastic film, through and through. Truly an incredible performance by Broderick Crawford as underdog-turned-corrupt-politician Willie Stark. I'm going a little hyphen crazy (hypen-crazy?) today. Apologies. This film is based on a true story about a politician from a small town who rises to great power, only to have it Caesar-ed away from him. Isn't that always the way? He begins by getting the people all riled up and angry, without actually saying what he stood for. I LOVED this because you see it every day now that the election is in full swing. Anybody starts laying out policy thoughts and I'm like "hmm interesting" but 95% of people are like, "booooooooring!" Not to get all political on you again, but then somebody like Gingrich gets up and says "I say we shoot America's enemies in the face!" What does that even mean? And to be fair, Obama did a similar thing in 2008 when he was like, "hope! Whatever that means!" Most popular politicians essentially get up and say non-specific stuff and people get all excited. So it's either incredibly depressing or highly enlightening to think about how little things have changed since that time. Willie Stark rises to power in just this way, by calling the crowd a bunch of bums and saying that he's one of them. He promises to burn the fat cats, all while becoming a fat cat. The film is also filled out with a great ensemble cast who have the unfortunate task of being what I call "Karl Malden" roles. This is in reference to Karl Malden's excellent performance in Patton which is completely overshadowed by George C. Scott. You could say the same thing about Aaron Eckhart in The Dark Knight. He did an incredible job as Two-Face but not as many people noticed. What's weird is that the only other person who won for this movie was the one I thought to be the weakest performance. Everyone else did a low-key and realistic performance (or over-the-top and realistic one in the case of Crawford). But what she did was kind of a classic 40s-50s bit of stage acting. She delivers her one-liners with such an implied "zing!" that I thought I was watching a CBS sitcom. Thankfully she's not in it a whole lot...but still. On an interesting side note: they originally offered the lead role to John Wayne but he sent it back in disgust because he was actually optimistic about American politics for some reason. No offense meant, but this movie would have SUCKED if he was the politician. Seriously. That would have been one of the biggest miscasts in film history. So it's a good thing John Wayne was more patriotic than vitriolic. Thankfully they ended up casting a pessimist (0r someone willing to act like one) and the movie turned out great. I would definitely recommend anyone and everyone to watch this film, especially people like me who are cynical about the whole political process.

Well that's it for 1949, way too positive if you ask me. Where ya' bad movies at? Probably in 2011, which might be my next entry. I think I'll make it through 1948 before the Oscar telecast later this month though. So for now let's assume that my next entry will include: melancholy Danes, melancholy treasure hunters, and melancholy amnesiacs.

1950: The Year that Was Done in a Day and Blogged in a Month

So I watched 4 of these movies in one day but then the last one I didn't see until a few days ago. Mostly because of all of the crazy awesome video games I got for Christmas and the subsequent TV catch-up. I'm on a break from Zelda right now because as awesome as it is...video games should not be exercise. Anyway, there were some true classics this year. And also some nonsense. And also some newly-legal Elizabeth Taylor. Not to sound like a cross-decade cradle robber or anything but...you know the real reason people liked that movie.

We begin, however, with a pretty useless film: Born Yesterday. When I watched this many weeks ago, I probably found out about some interesting behind-the-scenes brouhaha that led to its nomination. But I don't remember what that was. There had to be something though because this was pretty terrible. I'm not usually one to complain about perceived plot holes (disbelief be suspendin') but this was a bit much. It's about a misogynistic (even for 1950) mobster who wants his stereotypically blonde girlfriend to become more intelligent. Because you should definitely take your girlfriend to all of your illegal business meetings. And you don't want her to look stupid in front of all of your mobster friends who characteristically believe that women are stupid. The Netflix cover sleeve implied to me that she ends up getting the last laugh on mobster guy after she falls for her tutor. By "last laugh" they meant that she literally laughs as she leaves him. Which is fine but...shouldn't she be giving some info to the police and destroying his empire or something? If the whole point was for her to get with tutor guy then the movie could've been done after 40 minutes. Instead it becomes overly long at a relatively short 103 minutes. Add to that some annoying accents (intentionally so, but still) and this was a fairly unpleasant film to witness. Except to heckle of course. The heckling was good. The real tragedy of this is that the main girl won for Best Actress that year. In a year of so many great female performances! We'll get to more of that later. Most years, especially back then, the female roles are pretty meh. There's not much for them to do and they're resigned to swooning and some light "my heavens"ing. And when there were three (3!) worthy performances...they of course went with screechy blonde.

A movie that is only worthwhile for the ogling is: Father of the Bride. Wasn't I just talking about misogynists and stuff? Irony alert! Nawwwwww but, even the straight ladies have to be like: "dayummmmm." This was Liz Taylor's first movie pretty much. Which means that it's the last one I'll see on my Oscar watch. The end of an era! Unfortunately, in this movie she's kind of reduced to a super-hot MacGuffin. It's mostly about her father, played by Spencer Tracy, and his various annoyances with the forthcoming wedding. So it's one of these "oh I'm learning to let my daughter grow up but I'm doing it humorously through a series of amusing situations." I think if I was an actual father of an actual bride I'd chuckle to myself and go "why yes, that is how I felt! How enjoyable and accurate!" But outside of that, I'm really not sure how one can relate. There were some good scenes in it, don't get me wrong. The engagement party scene where Mr. Tracy is confined to making drinks for guests the entire time was pretty great. Other than that, it could basically be the series finale of Ozzie and Harriet, or another such 50s sitcom. And Best Picture? At least these days they'd have the good sense to throw it an honorary Golden Globe nomination and leave it at that. Poignant at times, funny at others, but it ultimately pales in comparison to some of the film behemoths that were also released in this year.

One of which is not King Solomon's Mines. This was just crap. Seriously. It's an adventure film with almost no action. But it also doesn't work as a real movie with real characters or themes. You have to go one or the other. The Man Who Would Be King doesn't have any action in it but it's a fantastic story with some very interesting and powerful ideas. Something like The Mummy Returns has almost no thematic value but it's freaking awesome! So it works. This movie has no action, no characters, and no treasure either. They spend literally the entire movie wandering around in the desert going: "hey so where do you think King Solomon's Mines are?" Then somebody's like, "I dunno, let's try over there." This continues for 90% of the movie. They then find the mines. What's there? Nothing. They wade through some water in a cave for a few minutes. Then they leave and two black guys start fighting each other. One of them dies. Allan Quartermain rides off into the sunset. Just saved you 103 minutes. My dad told me that he was all stoked to see this movie when he was a kid (upon re-release probably) and then he just remembers waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever did. I will say that it's cool that they filmed on location but maybe after all the money they spent on location they might have thought to hire someone to write a script. Not even a better script. Just any script would have been nice.

Thankfully I can get positive with Sunset Boulevard. Truly one of the greatest noirs of all time. Largely because it isn't a classically made noir and instead relies on noir styles and tones to tell a different kind of story. No gumshoes. No murder investigations. But there is a very different kind of femme fatale. Instead of a woman seducing the protagonist with her feminine wiles and extreme good looks a la Rita Hayworth in Gilda, he's seduced with power and prestige. The woman in question is a former Hollywood starlet who didn't quite make the transition into "talkies" (look it up, kids). And the main protagonist is an up-and-coming screenwriter who is stuck writing the 1950s era equivalents of The Hills Have Eyes 2. She gives him the opportunity to rewrite her magnum opus: a mondo-sized film meant to re-launch her film career. But as we see from the beginning of the film: he's gonna end up dead. In the pool. As you may have seen spoofed on everything from Animaniacs to American Dad. Thankfully it didn't come off as dumb, which some of these iconic scenes tend to do. The big "I'm ready for my close-up" scene was appropriately schmaltzy, since she was an over-emoting silent film star. Her looking at the camera for the final shot and walking towards it was a bit much though. I get what they were trying to do but I'm not a big fan of breaking the fourth wall for anything but comedic purposes. It's a small complaint though. Gloria Swanson really should have taken home Best Actress that year instead of Madame Screech. As I mentioned, her over-emoting really works because she made her name making silent films. In silent films you need to over-act with your facial expressions. So of course she's going to be melodramatic in real life. Though it may seem like a regular drama, albeit an unusually dark one, it plays out in a noir-style. Which as we all know: I am a huge fan of. It's got the narration, the dark and brassy musical score, and of course the plot developments that lead everyone to end up screwed in the end. This should have been the winner, but perhaps they didn't have enough behind-the-scenes lobbyists. It might've fared better in the more cynical 60s but what can you do?

But this year's winner was also a pretty great film: All About Eve. Until 1997's titanic winner (ha! It's an adjective too!) this held the record for most nominations ever: 14. And it still holds the record for most female acting nominations ever in a movie: 4. On a semi-related note: I should call this blog "I read Wikipedia so you don't have to." Anyway, I'll get my only negative feelings toward the film out early. I hate omniscient narration. I love noir narration where it's the stream-of-consciousness of one of the characters in the movie. But anytime there's a narrator explaining key plot points or character histories...I hate that crap. Because they're giving you info that will be apparent in a few minutes. But they're assuming you're not smart enough to decipher said info. Of course, in the 1950s maybe this was true. Not that they weren't smart but they weren't as observant in a lot of ways. So the first 5 minutes I really disliked, since they basically explained the first 45 minutes of the film (at least). The rest of it was excellent. I normally don't care for Bette Davis because I think she overdoes it but I thought she was quite good and understated here. Contrary to what you might think, she does not play Eve. She plays Margo, another aging starlet. Only she's a stage actress instead. And she's the victim in this film and not the femme fatale. Eve is an up-and-coming actress who becomes Margo's protégé and eventually tries to take over her life. Once again, this would play out better if we didn't already know it was going to happen. And she also seems to go from timid newcomer to bloodthirsty usurper kind of quickly. But I suppose she is an actress. This being 1950, she of course needs to receive some punishment at the end. But the middle of the picture is where it really shines, just to see Bette Davis and Anne Baxter act against each other. The end is kind of anti-climactic because there's no real explosive confrontation between the two main women. And though it's poetic for Eve to receive her comeuppance in the form of a new up-and-comer looking to usurp her prestige, the scene is played a little too long to be truly effective. Still in all, a pretty great film. And certainly a lot better than most of the winners from the 50s.

Overall, a fairly disappointing decade. But there were some truly iconic and excellent films in there as well. I'm a little wary of the 1940s because we're about to get into the era of 5+ Best Picture nominees. So it might take me even longer to post these up. I guess we shall see. All I know for now is that next year will include whodunit cuckoldry, gung-ho wartime propaganda, and misleading Humpty-Dumpty allusions.

1951: The Year that The Fifties Got Dark

Now this is what I'm talking about. Much better, McCarthy-era America. This was a dark time for the United States in many ways and especially for Hollywood. So why not more dark and intense and powerful movies? Well here I finally got 4! Number 5 being the winner of course. Ironically, it's an overly cheerful (and actually pretty bad) movie but I found it to be the most depressing of the bunch. Before I launch into this year, I'd like to mention a glaring omission from my last entry. My buddy José Ferrer in his excellent Moulin Rouge performance had to appear as though he was about 3 feet tall. They say the actor helped to perfect the camera trick himself through various camera shots and of course ye olde "stand on your knees" trick. But it was absolutely convincing and I have no clue how they achieved it in 1952 because even today when people pull similar crap it looks awful. Usually when I think of something later that I should have mentioned, I let it go. But this was a big one so I thought I'd mention it. Right then, onward we go.

First up is a movie that I liked, but wasn't super enthusiastic about: Decision Before Dawn. It stars people I've never heard of and who didn't seem to do much else. That's a big plus for me (and the key to HBO's success I might add). Because there's no learning curve in terms of getting used to the actors being those characters. Plus, people looking to hit it big in Hollywood always put some more oomph in than people who have already made it. Now, I love the idea of this movie and I think it was well done through and through. But it doesn't need to be 2 hours long. It could really just be a Twilight Zone episode (albeit a decidedly non sci-fi one) in the sense that it has a great story arc which doesn't require much growth. The journey it takes you on isn't one which requires a lot of twists and turns. It essentially has one point to make. HOWEVER...in 1951 I imagine it would have taken an entire movie. Intrigued yet? It's about a group of German POWs who are recruited by the U.S. to spy on their fellow Germans, during the end times of WWII. Finally, a WWII movie that's a little different! They're all so similar usually. This was the first movie, literally the first, to show Germans in a sympathetic light. Not all of them of course. But the main characters are portrayed as conflicted, real people. This is good because it's so easy to think of the Nazis as this faceless organization that was unrepentantly evil. Some of them were, but not all of them. I won't spoil the plot of the whole movie but suffice it to say that by the end of it I imagine many audience members had at least somewhat re-thought their ideas of "the enemy" during wartime. The U.S. army characters in the film certainly do. This is a morally gray movie depicting one of the few times in United States history that is often viewed as black and white. Once again, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I've just seen similar things before which fit into an episode of TV. But for 1951 this was huge news and certainly groundbreaking. So I applaud them for that and I think everyone involved did a great job.

An exceptionally dark and excellent film that I wasn't expecting at all is A Place in the Sun. This reverse-reminded me of a film I detested, entitled Sons and Lovers. I actually had to take about 10 minutes to figure out that it reminded me of that melodrama. Because I remembered the plot but forgot which movie it was. Anyway, in that one he's torn between two women but he's a douchey teenager. In this movie, the man is quite actually in love with both women I think. And plus, he doesn't intend to have this happen to him. He's lured away by a seductress harpy. And who better to play such a woman than Elizabeth Taylor? The Academy must have loved her as much as I do because she's popping up just about every year and I am absolutely fine with that. This is believable and the other movie wasn't. Because in the other one his angst didn't come from a believable place. In this one, he's caught between two very different types of society. Shelley Winters plays his blue collar girlfriend and she is also quite beautiful of course. She represents his roots, his childhood, his lineage. Elizabeth Taylor represents the future, excitement, intrigue. Old life vs. New life. There is no correct answer. I think he could have been happy with either woman. But let's get real: there's only one Liz Taylor. BUT Shelley Winters is pregnant and now he has some tough decisions to make. Ordinarily I'd call all of this melodramatic BS...but it works! I think the reason it works in this instance is that each woman represents something very interesting and different. Get ready for a weird-but-applicable reference: Glee. On that show, there's this over-arcing conflict for many of the characters between getting out of Lima, Ohio and staying to raise a family like the umpteenth number of ancestors before them. I would have no qualms with settling down in Lima, Ohio with Dianna Agron. But I'd rather go to New York with Lea Michele. Okay...I'd actually rather settle in Lima with Lea Michele but I hope you see my point. It's a legit conflict! Well, I don't want to spoil the plot but let's just say that the main character's decision-making in this film is a whole lot darker than I was expecting. And that's what made it so good. I cannot believe this movie was actually made in 1951 and that they allowed it to come out. That makes it even better. Entertaining side note: the main actor, Montgomery Clift, was gay in real life and Elizabeth Taylor apparently tried to "turn" him at one point by putting the moves on him a little bit. It didn't work...so I'm thinking that he was pret-tay pret-tay pret-tay gay. When we lost Liz, we lost the world's best Gaydar. She needs replacing and Scarlett Johansson: I'm looking at you.

Next up is an uplifting-ish film that I had mixed feelings about but overall liked: Quo Vadis. The title is in reference to the apocryphal story of Saint Peter fleeing his matrydom and meeting Jesus. He then asks Jesus "Quo Vadis?" or, "Where are you going?" and Jesus says he's going to go get crucified again or something. So Peter goes and gets crucified instead of fleeing, but it's after continuing his ministry of course so it's a happy story (?). This scene actually doesn't happen in the movie (or if it did I missed it), but it does feature St. Peter asking the same question of God during a prayer. So it's kind of interesting because it's still a crisis of faith in that he's wondering what God's plan is but not in that he's an initial unwilling martyr. This is during the time of Nero sacrificing Christians to the lions so I'd probably be asking the same question if I was Peter. The story mainly focuses on a Roman centurion who falls in love with a Christian woman and gradually accepts her faith as his own. Now, would he have had the same religious awakening if it didn't eventually lead to getting into Deborah Kerr's pants? Probably not. But: mysterious ways and all that. The real highlight of the film is Peter Ustinov as Nero. He's such an over-the-top villain but it works so perfectly. Because if anybody at that point in history was a notorious moustache-twirler with no real sympathetic motivation, it was Nero. He's an unrelenting narcissist psycho and all of his servants have a serious case of the "it's real good you done that Anthony"s. Much of this movie is exactly what The Robe should have been. So it's pretty weird that this came out first...since you'd think they'd have improved on the formula instead of making it more terrible. The apostle Paul also shows up and it's interesting because he's portrayed more as a conflicted philosopher with sneaky ties to the Romans than the Odin of all hippies. Which is awesome because the former is how I think of him and the latter is how most people think of him (in slightly different terms). When they got to the major religious parts of the movie, such as the crucifixion of Peter, the film was framed like the various famous paintings that depicted the same events. So it's kind of cool in that it's giving you the story behind the painting but it also takes you out of the movie a bit. The film was also too long at almost 3 hours (!) and it's even worse that about a half an hour of that was focused on the main characters being fed to lions at the end. It takes away from the drama when you draw it out like that. It went on long enough to imply that they might escape...and then they didn't. So I was like: why have I been sitting here for half an hour? But overall: quite a good movie. And I do like a dark and powerful ending, even if it should've come a little sooner.

Now...talk about some dark stuff, well here's A Streetcar Named Desire. Holy. Freaking. Crap. I thought this was going to be some overdone melodrama like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (which was also a Tennessee Williams play). This is an intense and disturbing character drama, also wayyyyyyyyyy out of place in 1951. And the stage play is even darker! Back then, I think I'd have been a theater snob instead of a film snob. Because that's where the edgy stuff was. The story centers on Blanche DuBois (a Southern belle in decline) staying with her sister Stella. And also Stella's husband Stanley, played by the criminally-robbed-of-an-Oscar Marlon Brando. All of the other major players won this year so it was really odd that he lost. My dad says he lost to Bogart due to a classic Academy "honorary Oscar" situation, and Brando won 2 years later anyway so I guess it's all good. Brando is so good that actors doing the role on stage today are encouraged not to watch the film. Because they'll inevitably try to emulate him and obviously fall short. Vivien Leigh is equally brilliant as Blanche, and she tragically ended up being the pre-modern Heath Ledger after this role. She had other parts for years afterward but then she started to lose her mind like Blanche and began to lose track of which events happened to her and which ones happened to the character. Anyway, at first I hated her performance. I thought it was hammy and overdone. Then it hit me. She's a woman who puts on an act for everybody, and the act is wearing thin. The ham is intentional because that's the character's character that she puts on. We see the real Blanche more and more as the film progresses. As it turns out, she's a widow. Her first husband killed himself because "she talked him into it." I read online later that in the play it was very clear that he was gay and she caught him with another man, so he killed himself out of shame. 1951, people. It was apparently understood by many audience members that this was the story, even though it's never explicitly stated in the film. Eventually, her madness takes over and comes to a head when Stanley rapes her. 1951, people. And this was pretty clear. You couldn't really perceive it another way. So he has her sent away to the looney bin and she drops her "kindness of strangers" line in a way that lived up to the hype (for once). The way I saw it, she depends on the kindness of strangers because everyone who knows her wants nothing to do with her. In the movie, Stella tells Stanley to get lost (prompting the famous Stella! Stella! reference) but in the play she stays with him. Wow. I sort of like the movie ending better but the play one is poetic too, in a way. I'd like to say we've evolved beyond some of the situations in this movie but I found the scene that introduces Stanley to be all too familiar. He's drunk and fighting a bunch of dudes and being a general ass when Stella says to Blanche, "isn't he wonderful?" Happens all the time. Hate that mess. So I'm glad she kicked his ass out. I've gone and failed to mention Karl Malden again...the poor guy has the misfortune of starring in great movies next to Brando and George C. Scott (Patton). He got an Oscar for this though, so I guess he won't mind that I forgot about him. Okay, I'm done gushing. Go watch it. Seriously. I see it as a huge turning point for cinema. This should have been the Best Picture, no question.

But instead, with this year's winner we got drivel set to music with An American in Paris. At the beginning of the movie there's a great scene where Gene Kelly nimbly moves around an exceptionally small apartment with grace, style, and humor. It's all downhill from there. There are narrators conversing with other narrators, needless dance sequences, and fluffy songs that go nowhere. Now here we have another case of a love story being entirely based in looks. He is smitten instantly by Leslie Caron when he sees her at a party. She shoots him back with a fairly buck-toothed smile and he remains smitten. And I'm thinking: is this a 30 Rock cutaway or what is this? Is this Peter Griffin saying "remember that time I was smitten by that buck-toothed girl for some reason?" I think Leslie was a beautiful girl and an incredible dancer. If he was smitten with her after seeing her dance, I'd understand. But it's just from looking at her! And he was already on a date with a better-looking woman. For you ladies: would you abandon Brad Pitt because you saw Woody Allen look-alike smiling at you from across the room? I say look-alike because I'd probably abandon Brad Pitt to go say hey to the real Woody Allen, because he's awesome. On top of that, Leslie's character was going out with Gene's character's best friend already. HE BROKE THE BRO CODE FOR SOME BUCK TEETH. Add to that the fact that the whole movie is a fluffy romance with no substance, much like many of the ones I've already derided, and I'm left wondering why it's considered such a classic by some. Others call it one of the most overrated movies of all time and I must agree. We never find out what happens to his friend or the woman he dumped. I thought they'd at least stick them together...but no. So two people's lives were essentially ruined when the loves of their lives left them. And we're supposed to go: "yayyyyyyyyy!" because the one guy who dances is with the girl who dances. That's depressing to me. They probably both killed themselves after the credits. It also holds some kind of record because the entire last 20 minutes or so has no talking and is just a big dance sequence. It is the single most unnecessary thing I've ever seen put to film and I've seen a lot of HBO nudity. The sequence does have a point, he was dreaming about what his life with Leslie might be like, and then she actually appears at the end to kiss him and stuff. If they didn't end up together for real, the end sequence would have still been overdone but at least it would've carried some poignancy. A nice, intimate dance sequence with just the two of them would have been nice. Instead it's the Transformers 2 Egypt shootout of 50s dance sequences. It shifts from location to location for no reason except to give the audience some variety. And it just keeps going. This would be fine if I was at some kind of Big Band/dance recital. There is no reason for it to exist from a film perspective. And it cost like half a million dollars or something crazy. This whole movie would be a perfectly acceptable high school play. Or even an acceptable movie, given the time period. But this won 6 Academy Awards and it took Best Picture from 3 more deserving movies and 1 movie that's so much more deserving that it's actually insulting. I am offended as a film buff on the level of my feelings toward Coppola's 1972 directing snub, Hitchcock's lifetime achievement snubbing, and of course the lack of a Dark Knight nomination. Appalling. But I did my best to remember this as an overall great year.

Well, the 1950s are coming to a close. Sometime in the next decade we'll be back to a 10 nominee structure and that is very daunting. Although starting on Monday I will once again be employed part-time (it only took 15 months!) so I'll probably take more time to watch Oscar nominees. Which makes absolutely no sense. But that's how I do. I don't even have enough of a clue about next year's movies to come up with accurate snarky predictions so I'm just going to guess. So all I might know for now is that it will include an overblown depiction of the mother of humanity, a lost Indiana Jones adventure, and a colloquially very gullible person.

1952: The Year that We Went Sans the Exclamation Mark

Literally just as I figured out how to add links to my posts they went and changed the design! Now I'm all confused again. And the font is smaller so now I'll be all confused as to when my opening paragraph has reached its usual length. So this is either going to be my longest entry ever or my shortest. Right then, here we go I guess. Is it time yet? I don't know.

First up we have a movie that I've actually been a fan of for a long time: High Noon. Funny story, on Safari this seems to be working normally. Crisis averted! Right then. The thing I like about this movie, or one of the things anyway, is that it was actually pretty innovative for the time. Because it takes place in real time. The bad guys are coming for him at High Noon and the clock ticks onward for most of the film. That's basically the whole plot. But here's a great example of how a movie can be thin on plot but high on style. It was robbed for Best Picture and I'm not the only one who says so. I'll explain why near the end. The film begins with the hauntingly beautiful tune "Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin.'" I'm not a big fan of folksy country tunes (unless they're sung by hot blondes) but this one is truly beautiful. Not just because of the lyrics but also because of how the lyrics pertain to the story. Hear that Michael Bay? It can be done. And unlike many of the nauseatingly cheerful films of the time, especially Westerns, this one is misery the whole way through. NOBODY wants to help this guy. No one except for a kid who's too young to fight and an old man who's too frail. He might've even been blind or something, it's been a while since I've seen it. There's also the added plot element of Gary Cooper's wife in the movie, who is played by Grace Kelly. Before you get all excited for him, she's a Quaker who opposes violence of all kinds. So if he is to stay and fight the bandits, will he die or will he lose his wife? That's some actual drama there. Seriously. Because they don't hammer it into you. You're just aware of it and it adds suspense. Without spoiling anything, the finale of the film packs a lot of personal emotion and is surprisingly well done. It's not overdone and it's not done unrealistically. One guy versus four guys. No matter how good you are, you aren't going to gun down all four at once. They keep that in mind, thus not ruining the realistic feel of the story. Don't worry, it has a happy ending. But it earns it. Those are my kind of happy endings: the ones that come at the end of a full movie of misery and pain. Also: the show, Happy Endings. Also: no, nevermind.

A film I'm much less enthusiastic about, but don't hate, is Ivanhoe. This is one of my dad's favorites actually. And it was funny because when I told him I thought it was so-so he presumed I was miffed at the lack of fighting. While I do think the fighting could have been improved, I'm actually more bored during fighting scenes nowadays than anything else. Unless it's a really personal confrontation. Back when I was younger, not even too long ago, I'd zone out until the fight scenes. I'd sort of pay attention of course but the fights were the highlight. Then last year I was watching an episode of The Tudors and looked down to read an article during this big battle because I was bored. I sat, stunned...waiting for my AARP card to come in the mail. Anyway, my real issue with this movie is that they focus too heavily on the love story. Which is funny, considering how many movies I've ripped lately for not focusing on the love story enough. So why does a movie that's about far more interesting things than shagging spend so much time with the love triangle? It's got Richard the Lionheart and Robin Hood (though they don't call him that) and the Crusades are going on and family feuds and all kinds of mess. But what do they focus on? Hammy romance. Any movie that has a woman overly swooning and falling into the main character's arms while saying, "oh (title character)!" then they've lost me. And nothing against Joan Fontaine, but who would pick her over Elizabeth Taylor? No one. Literally no one. I'd pick Rita Hayworth above Liz but that's about it. And this was back in the days when women weren't exactly big in the character development department (nor the men in many cases) so it's not like you can say "oh well Joan had a better personality." They were both Penelope Pitstops in distress and one is way hotter than the other. Just saying. So the parts that weren't the love triangle I thought were quite good. The fight at the end was a little ridiculous because it was two people on horseback fighting each other (not jousting) and since this would be a difficult battle to do in real life, let alone in a fake fight where no one can actually get hurt, it just ends up being a little slow and awkward. They continue on foot eventually and then it picks up, so I suppose that was good anyway. Overall though, I found the movie to be too "Hollywood-ized" to be overly great. It still beats most of the 50s movies I've had to sit through though.

Next up is a movie that shares almost an entire title with another nominee but almost entirely no plot elements: Moulin Rouge. I say almost the same because it's sans the exclamation mark. And man is it ever...this film is freaking depressing. Loved it! It takes place in the same historical location, the actual Moulin Rouge, and it's also a story of lost loves. But it's based on a lot of true events, or at least a real person: Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. I presume many of the events actually happened too. But I also don't care because it's a great movie so whatever artistic liberties they took were good ones. I did mix up the blondes in the movie, because I could only tell which one was Zsa Zsa Gabor when she was speaking. She was the only weak point actually. Both because I mixed her up with the other girl, causing some confusion, and because her acting was a bit hammy. Although as the movie went on, I actually saw the wisdom in that. Because her character is shallow and fake. So it's only fitting that she would act so fake all the time. Everyone fades into the background as compared to José Ferrer though, as Henri. He was a real-life disfigured painter and hopeless romantic. He wasn't Phantom of the Opera disfigured, but instead incredibly short. Not a midget or a dwarf exactly...he had some kind of medical condition (due to inbreeding, gross) that prevented his legs from healing after a childhood injury. The flashbacks throughout the film of course being some of the best parts. I'm a sucker for flashbacks. As many already know, I'm a big fan of the disfigured in movies. Also the villains. Because they're usually products of a cruel society. As I might have mentioned before, in a non-shallow society the Phantom of the Opera would've been a billionaire playboy. Because he was a musical genius, an athlete, and even an inventor. In this case, Henri's disfigurement is what makes him an incredible painter. Like many though, he falls for the wrong sort of woman. The tragedy being that he really believed she wouldn't care about his legs. When she eventually leaves him, is it really due to his condition or is it because of his self-perception? It's a moot point, because he'll never be rid of either. Lots of other tragic and beautifully done stuff happens but I'll spare you, because I want you to have a pleasant day without medication. I'll just point out that at the end of the movie, as happened in real life, he became the only living man to have his work displayed in the Louvre. As he is being given this news, he drifts off into eternal sleep; not dreaming of his accomplishments but instead the Moulin Rouge and its wonderful dancers, whose world he could never truly be a part of.

What could top that in terms of drama this time around? Nothing. So it's good that I'm about to annihilate The Quiet Man. It was the only "real movie" made by Republic Pictures, a company mostly known for whatever the 50s version of lesbian robot vampires was. I actually saw this movie in like 9th grade or something crazy like that. When I say in 9th grade, I mean in class. Like actually in a 9th grade classroom with other 9th graders. Not exactly the best environment for watching an intense character study. Or for terrible movies that try and fail to be intense character studies, in this case. The overall plot sounds pretty good: an American boxer who accidentally kills a man in the ring decides to get away from it all and go back to the peaceful Irish town where he was born. I don't know how they got John Ford to direct this and I don't want to know. They say it's known for its lush photography. Well I'm sure there are lots of "On Golden Blonde" type movies that have some non-euphemistic lush photography too. People also love the comical fight at the end. Which to me was neither funny nor dramatic. Maybe the movie is entertaining if you're living in a small Irish town where all of the ridiculous cultural norms are still in play. Such as appealing to a woman's brother before being able to marry her. On that subject: who would believe that Maureen O'Hara in a small town is still single in her 30s? NO ONE. She would be the first person every guy in town would be after. So how do they explain this? "Well, she's feisty." So she's finally won over by John Wayne? Okay I don't know where John Wayne ranks for women, but is he a 9? I doubt it. And that's where I'd put her. Once again: we're talking about a romance that's entirely based on looks because they haven't given us anything else to work with. Makes no sense. But her brother still hates him and so she doesn't receive her birthright. So he has to beat up her brother and take her rightful land ownership or something. Instead of having a High Noon esque moral dilemma of "should I fight him and lose myself? Or should I leave it alone and lose her?" he has a Marx Brothers style fight with the brother. A fight that culminates with them getting drunk in the bar, while still fighting. The happy ending is John Wayne stumbling home drunk to his wife, and she's all happy because he did his duty as a husband. For realsies. That's the ending. It so much defies what a good movie is, or even how a good movie should be built, that I really felt like I was missing some kind of satire. As far as I can tell: I wasn't.

Now we move on to this year's winner: the empirically overrated The Greatest Show on Earth. Since the behind the scenes is far more interesting than the movie, I'll start with that. Apparently, the only reason this won was that it was directed by Cecil B. DeMille and he helped McCarthy. This gave him some obvious street cred. I might not believe this except that I know for a fact that a ton of what happened back then in Hollywood was McCarthy related. Including, but not limited to, casting choices, who was and wasn't allowed to be listed in the credits, and of course who was allowed to work in the town ever again. Pretty crazy stuff, and not too long ago really. We have Mel Gibson but that's about it. And he's still allowed to make stuff obviously, he's just societally blacklisted. For the record, I stand by what South Park says: "Mel Gibson is crazy but he knows how to make movies." Now then, to the movie. It's pretty bad. Actually, it's more that it's not really a movie. It's basically a scripted documentary. Most of it does little more than show you a behind the scenes of what it's like to work at a circus. Interesting? Sure. But it's not a movie. There are very few actual characters, especially for a 150 minute movie, and most of it is just circus acts. You might as well just go to the circus. It has all of the excitement with none of the forced character scenes. Also more excitement. And probably shorter. Even still, there are exactly 3 things I liked about it. Only one of which is intentional. 1st: Charlton Heston is dressed an awful lot like Indiana Jones, and since this was the first movie Spielberg ever saw...I have to wonder. 2nd: Jimmy Stewart plays a clown. Jimmy Stewart has what is possibly the most ridiculous voice in the history of acting, and this was the one time that I've seen where he toned it down for a part. I find this very amusing. 3rd: there was a line in the movie where I was about to blurt out "that's what she said!" only to have a snarky woman in the movie give a 50s era implied "that's what she said." This was hilarious because it was 1952, the era of good wholesome movies. Amazing! That one line was literally worth sitting through the rest of the movie. Almost. There's a lot more plot in there than I give it credit for, true, but there's still too much fluff. And if you're going to foreshadow someone falling to their death from the trapeze, make sure they actually do. That's how Chekov's trapeze is supposed to work. But no, DeMille seemingly figured that if he pumped enough budget and extras into a movie, it'll be good all on its own. He was 50s James Cameron. I'm not alone in my thoughts. My dad, who is a fan of old movies almost exclusively, said it wasn't very good. And it was given the equivalent of an honorary Razzie award in a book written by one of the guys who gives out the Razzies nowadays. McCarthy did a lot of things that were of questionable morality. Propelling this to Best Picture over High Noon and Moulin Rouge? Probably the worst.

Kidding! I normally like to let my sarcasm sit and fester, but you know...sore spots. I've actually already seen most of 1951 for whatever reason. Actually the reason is that I like to keep my Netflix disc queue moving and I watch Instant Watch movies less often because I can watch them anytime. If that makes sense. Anyway, next year promises to be rant-inducing like always. All I know for now is it will include one of the most iconic performances in film history, the most gorgeous starlet in film history, and the most excessive scene in film history.