I’ll soon get around to giving my nominees for best scene of the year – but it’s such a capricious task choosing the best in this category, so I had to make a list of also-rans that impressed me this past decade. Choosing favourite is a difficult thing, sometimes they don’t occur in your favourite movies and sometimes the weirdest moments in a film might impress me. It’s all really quite subjective, but before I get to the top ten finalists – here are fifteen great scenes that didn’t make it to the top of the list.
(I already compiled a list of
best endings and
best beginnings of 2010, so none of the scenes that appear here are from the bookends of their films.
click on the links for reviews, where available)
THE SEMI-FINALISTS
Now that I think of it, it probably suggests inanity on my part to have Alice in Wonderland a list talking about best scenes and not have other much fêted films here. Nonetheless, my favourite scene in Burton’s latest is one that I’ve spoken of before. It’s notable for Helena Bonham Carter’s delicious macabre ways as she introduces Slade to her new protégé – Um. It’s a classic case of meaning being lost in translation, and for all its silliness it has a light funniness to it which other portions of the film could do with – and because Helena Bonham Carter is so brilliant, that makes this scene just a little bit more special.
My favourite moment for Natalie in Black Swan is that emotional phone call she makes to her mother early in the film, but it’s not the part of the film that stands out for me. As much as I was troubled by the potential nomination for Mila Kunis, Portman responds well to her in the film – even if incidentally. That moment where Nina begins to transform, as she returns home in fervour and her mother is so discomfited asking – “Where’s my sweet girl?”, and Nina responds, “She’s gone.” It seems to be a moment of Aronofsky doing too much, but it works. Hershey is Portman’s best scene partner, and for all of its obviousness that scenes work brilliantly.
Blue Valentine
The way that Blue Valentine is created it thrives on an undulating plot that’s not the typical rise and fall as we see one harrowing moment after another. In that way it’s difficult to single out actual scenes, but it’s hard not to be impressed by the confrontation that occurs when Dean visits Cindy at the hospital. It’s uncomfortable to watch these two people who’ve grown so far apart – both of them frustrated with their situations. And, Cianfrance never adjudges blame to either party so as they argue in that glass room we’re left watching the train wreck occur with empathy for both parties.
There are a number of moments in Easy A that hit just the right note, and I’m immediately moved to consider any scene where Stanley Tucci, Patricia Clarkson or Lisa Kudrow appear on screen. However, at the end of the day Easy A is about a star being born (i.e. Emma Stone) and it makes sense that the most lucid moment of comedy occurs because of her. That fateful party where she and her gay best friend get it on emerges as one of the funniest scenes of the year. Stone works wonderfully with Dan Byrd (so good in Cougar Town) and though the moment in itself is not refreshingly innovative it’s a perfect encapsulation of Easy A building itself on old comedic paradigms and achieving something good.
I think of The Fighter as the ensemble film that wasn’t. The ensemble work well together, but not as good as they could if they had more time to actually work together. So, that moment in the living room where we get all the important players – Alice, George, Micky, Dicky, the sisters – to discuss Micky’s future succeeds on so many levels. For me, Melissa Leo doesn’t exactly thrive in this register (though her “MTV Girl” line is funny). The scene is all Amy for me, but even more than anyone taking credit for being the best it’s brilliant watching them all play off each other – these are the scenes where Russell’s direction is most impressive.
For Colored Girls tends to be so episodic at times I balk at the idea of choosing individual scenes to fête since everyone is trying hard. When it comes to delivery of the monologues, Loretta Devine with the striking musicality in her voice wins but the most arresting for me (including that harrowing death scene) occurs as the last act begins. Whoopi suffers a bit from a very stilted character, but I do think that her scenes with Thandie Newton (best in show) are brilliant and that moment where the two women meet to deliver their pieces – almost in counterpoint – is excellently done. Potently, theatrical and it’s the moment that best elucidates my belief that For Colored Girls is a musical film with lyrics and no melodies. The contrast between the two women is beautiful to watch, as is the scene itself.
I will continue to applaud Nolan’s vision in Inception even if I don’t really care for it, and on a technical level there a number of scenes to pick from. The thing is, even though Cotillard is playing Mal as memories of Cobb she’s still the one serving up the most significant emotional quotient, and that scene of hers as she loses control of the life she’s living – and ends it – remains as the strongest moment of the narrative. Emotional context is still not his strongpoint, but everything combines in that moment to make some beautiful and terrible to watch – and Marion Cotillard is remarkable, no?
I tend to be indecisive when considering if I perform Olivia Williams or Kim Cattrall in The Ghost Writer (the former is the only one being seriously, fêted). Still, even if I’m uncertain as to whom I prefer it’s difficult to deny the ability Williams has to hold ones attention. Every moment where she and McGregor take up the screen seem to be the film at its highest, but that specific conversation the two have by the fireplace. It seems so incidental, though Williams is carving her character long before we even know it’s necessary. And Polanski (beautifully lacking in any sort of pretentiousness directs it so subtly). It all adds to the greatness of The Ghost Writer.
Choledenko and Blumberg are never afraid to approach the obvious in their attempts to make The Kids Are All Right comedic and though the moment might seem banal I can’t resist that conversation where Jules and Nic confront Laser about his sexuality. There are a number of things I find significant about this scene – the most obvious of which is the fact that Moms are on completely different wavelengths to their children and of course Jules’ explanation of internal and external realisations of sexuality is a perfect setup for her liaison with Paul. And of course, everyone is acting so well. Julianne, so authentic in her laidback persona without ever being clichéd, Annette so ready to underscore her resentment for Clay and Hutcherson (this is probably his best scene) – confused and then affronted. I love his line reading of, “You thought I was gay?” And then the responses – “No! Of course not.” Hilarious.
It’s the oddest thing, The King’s Speech doesn’t seem like the type of film that’d improve on repeat viewings – but it is. There’s that specific scene when Lionel and Bertie end up having their inevitable spat and he turns up with the Queen in tow at Bertie’s house for an important lesson. There’s so much going on there that I appreciate. On the obvious of levels, it’s the perfect encapsulation of the relationship between the two men being the mainstay of the film and then there’s Bonham Carter’s perfectly played Queen who I end up gleaning so much from on repeat viewings. She’s no Constance Trentham when it comes to snobbery, but she’s never quite at ease in the colonial house and her meeting with Mrs. Logue is a perfect example of such, regardless of her inhibitions, though. She’s always the diplomat. It’s the sort of delicate humouring decorating (but not necessarily shrouding) more sensitive issues.
I’ll always bear just the slightest grudge against The King’s Speech for not having enough of Helena Bonham Carter in it, I still prefer the idea of his marriage to his friendship with Logue – but I digress. The mystery of that marriage, though, is never really addressed in the film. Seiberg, however, does a fine job of slipping a nice bit when Firth’s Bertie is at his lowest point. Helena has always struck me as the type of actor who works best when playing against someone else and her chemistry with Firth is palpable. The King’s Speech is so diverting in its lightness that the profundity of the title of King sort of sneaks up on you a bit so that when Bertie himself is faced with all the pressure it’s difficult not to be moved by him – and by the Queen’s coy way of deflecting it.
In its way Mother & Child is made up of very good moments, and very bad ones. Choosing one is a difficult, and Naomi’s elevator scene and Annette’s breakdown come to mind – but they all seem too slight for inclusion which makes me return to that first scene where Lucy and her husband meet the mother of their child to be. Epps seems unnecessarily harsh sometimes in her characterisation – but it’s a nice moment watching Washington’s Lucy deal with the dilemma of being interviewed for a child she wants so terribly. It’s one of the strongest points of her performance, and one of the film’s most eloquent.
Dividing Rabbit Hole into scenes is difficult because Lindsay-Abaire is going for an effortless transition from scene to scene. There are two Dianne Wiest scenes that emerge as brilliant – and the chemistry between her and Kidman is well done. The moment where she tells Becca about dealing with grief is beautifully done, but it’s the lighter moment where she tells her about her friend Mrs. Bailey that I always return to. Remember: Wiest is a notable comedienne – all her three Oscar nominations infer as much. It’s a monologue of sorts, and it’s her moment and it’s one of the ways that Rabbit Hole balances drama with humour so adeptly. The writing, Mitchell’s understated direction, Kidman’s reaction and Wiest’s perfect comedic timing all coalesce for a great moment.
I’ll admit, that for the first half of Scott Pilgrim vs the World my favourite parts are those with the ensemble – where Cera just blends in, but that first big party where we first meet Ramona succeeds because Cera is doing such good work here. Webber, Plaza, Pill all surround him but it’s Wright’s direction and that oafish charm of Cera that sells it – and that first meeting with Winstead – “Am I dreaming?” is a perfect example of the glorious ridiculousness of Scott Pilgrim vs the World.
With its root being the friendship ties between Eduardo and Mark that entire sequence where Zuckerberg’s lawyers uncover Eduardo’s “animal cruelty” is brilliantly played. It’s my favourite moment for Garfield, and it begins perfectly in the board room. Everyone is playing well – Rashida Jones is being her usual winsome self, and the actors playing the lawyers are on point and Fincher is shifting between periods so astutely all backed by Sorkin’s dialogue. And of course there’s that cinch where Eduardo reveals Mark cheating for his final exam, “Oops” – perfect.
I’ll return with my top ten favourite scenes some later in the week, but for now – which of these fifteen impress you most?
Who’d have thought that Colin Firth would be the thespian to reach here before his contemporaries like Neeson, Branagh and Fiennes – but, that’s Oscar for you. He gets an immediate second shot at gold over last year’s loss, and he’s not likely to lose. 
Logically, I shouldn’t be getting any sort of headache with the prediction for this category because Natalie has sort of swept through the season, well the majors anyway – but I’m still not absolutely certain that she’s the indisputable winner. Hell, it’s possible that I’ll see her on stage with the winning statuette and still doubt the veracity of her frontrunner status – I’m sort of ridiculous like that. I was depending on the BAFTA to give Annette the statue, and prove my theory whereby the Annette/Natalie race would turn into a converse version of the Marion/Julie race (both win Globes, one wins SAG and the other wins BAFTA) – but alas, I was wrong. Logically, if Annette had any hope you’d expect her to take at least one major from Natalie – but other than the surprise British Critics' win (which isn’t exactly a major) she's got nothing. And she still lost the BAFTA, so there’s no proof that she has the British voting bloc behind her.
I feel like such a fraud having next to no enthusiasm about the race, so despite the fact that Inception shows up nowhere in my top 12 directors of photography I’d be least interested if it actually wins. Logic dictates that True Grit’s Roger Deakins (who’s been trying for that Oscar for some time) will get his due, but I won’t be surprise if he loses. In fact, my gut tells me that The King’s Speech could very well take this, and I’d be fine since it actually makes my list of nominees – but that could result in a potential bloodbath since everyone isn’t convinced that it’s well shot – and the backlash against it is already deafening. The Social Network is not one to rule out here, either and logically, you have to at least consider the possibility of a Black Swan – a win I’d be on board with. Inception aside (or not, even) it’s a fine bunch of nominees. 
You know that trend where the Best Picture winner wins editing, I’m often confused by it...but I digress. Owing to the fact that there is nary a stinker in the ten films nominated for Best Picture, the five editing nominees are quite stellar – with the exception of 127 Hours, which is too unsubtle for me to fête. The Social Network wins my own personal competition, and I predict that it’d be the logical winner here.
It’s difficult to distinguish Jacki Weaver from the woman she plays, her big eyes constantly watchful of everything around is a key part of her role in this quasi-family quasi-crime drama. As the most important female of the lot, Jeanine prevents the narrative from being bogged down by all the testosterone present and though I think it’s the slightest bit insincere to consider her as the mastermind behind the family – her role is key. I still cannot succumb to hatred of her, for in her devious ways she’s protecting her family the only way she knows how – at whatever cost.
In actuality I can’t say that in terms of necessity the opening really establishes anything, but it’s still gorgeous to watch. Perhaps, if I think closely the same preposterous sort of extraneousness that pervades the film begins here with this arresting but strange number. It works well in the context that turns Nina into a bit of a soothsayer, because she knows she’s going to be destroyed even before she really does know. It’s that sort of bizarreness that defines the film, throughout.
Functionality aside, it’s the most beautiful opening of the year – it uses its dialogue as effectively as The Social Network, the cuts to the dancing are as beautiful as in Black Swan and the use of music is as striking as in The Deathly Hallows. But, it’s not just extraneous beauty – it’s making a point, too; it’s probably the sole portion where the stage conceits translate brilliantly to film. Yes, the film does dip in quality afterwards, but that doesn’t make it any less lovely. 
The film never reaches the quiet profundity of the opening again, which is a shame because that opening really is lovely. It’s one of the few times where creative team actually decides to do something original instead of adapting the book meticulously (to a fault). The score, the cinematography, and just the tired looks of the characters – it all just works, and in just a few short takes establishes the current situation.
I was a bit psyched about the writing categories a few months ago, because I was under this dumb delusion that some overlooked pieces (Rabbit Hole, Animal Kingdom, The Ghost Writer) would get some love here. That ship has sailed and it’s all looking very humdrum. The original screenplay is almost a representation of the films trying to edge out The Social Network in the top spot – which makes it look like The Kids Are All Right is hanging on for dear life. I really can’t see anything getting in here, even though Blue Valentine seems like the sort of original piece that would get some love here. Technically, I’d say Black Swan could be replaced here simply because the screenplay is easily its most unoriginal element – but that’s just personal projections, I know.
Predictions (alpha): 127 Hours / Black Swan / The Fighter / Inception / The Kids Are All Right / The King’s Speech / The Social Network / The Town / True Grit / Toy Story III Alternates: Winter’s Bone / Get Low / Shutter Island
I think I’ve already dedicated enough space to the awesomeness that is Colleen Atwood’s work in Alice in Wonderland. I’m stilling gunning for a nomination for her because of that same awesomeness, although I’m thinking now that The King’s Speech could be a very possible spoiler. Not that we’re predicting winners here, but I suppose The King’s Speech will the Benjamin Button of the year – beautiful to look at, the most nominated film but loses costume to the more obvious contender (that year it was The Duchess). So, who’ll join them there? I know, it sounds silly, but I’m predicting Burlesque here over Black Swan. I don’t know why I’m holding out on Black Swan, but I’m not completely willing to think it’s going to be rewarded so much – even if the guilds remembered it (and they did remember Burlesque too) and I’m very tentative about the prediction for The Tempest, because as beautiful as the costumes may be Powell as snubbed for superior work in The Other Boleyn Girl. So, I’m torn. Knowing how obvious this branch can get at times, I suppose a True Grit nomination is a given. I’d wanted to think that the costumes for Agora could end up being a surprise, but this category seems unusually packed this year and other than the aforementioned Black Swan I could easily see the costumes from Robin Hood, Made in Dagenham or The Way Back (shortlisted for makeup) making it in. So, I predict these and I also predict that my predictions will be very wrong. 
ART DIRECTION
The terrible thing about the Oscar race – okay, scratch that; let me restart. One of the terrible things about the Oscar race is how every singular – and sometimes insular – decision they make gets blown out of proportion. It’s something that anyone who takes any interest in Oscar seems guilty of. True, by the very act of “predicting” the awards we’re suggesting that there’s an ultimate master plan behind their decisions. At the moment we have what looks like a two horse race in the Best Actress category, and you just know that if (for example) Bening wins it won’t be evidence of the Academy liking her performance but evidence that they’re receptive of her “overdue” status and are not in favour of the more “daring” Black Swan. However, the more significant potential fallout from the Academy this year will be the war of the Pictures – The King’s Speech vs The Social Network. As I write this I’ve finally, FINALLY, seen The King’s Speech (I’m keeping mum for now) and it looks as if The Social Network is poised to rule the Oscars. What does this mean?
Then, why are we so intent on placing that much weight upon the Academy’s decision. Over and over (and over) the AMPAS gets held up for scrutiny, which is theoretically sound because they’re not supposed to be insular – they’re the most respected (I’d wager) film awards’ ceremony in the world, or at the very least the most overtly popular. Their decisions are important – yes. But, the Academy has no responsibility in terms of keeping abreast with current politics or even social norms. True, we expect the film community (producers and directors) to keep up with the times. But if something like The King’s Speech – almost like a pastiche in the way that it’s evocative of eras gone by – trumps something like The Social Network – something that’s ostensibly innovative, hip and whatnot (ironic, too, because the basic themes of The Social Network are quite old) that’s not evidence of them living in the past. Maybe they honestly believe that the “old” one is the one that’s better made – but it doesn’t mean that all “old things” are better. Its decisions should be about film quality, they shouldn’t be held accountable for ensuring that what they choose is indicative of the changing times – at least, I don’t think.
The DGA nominees were announced earlier in the week and every Oscar prognosticators is wondering whether or not their shortlist of directors is going to match the list that AMPAS releases in the next few weeks. Speak to some critics and they’d tell you that the director award is more prestigious than the picture, and now with the ten-wide Picture field that sentiment seems more apt. It’s no surprise then that the DGA, like every other precursor this year, offered a list of the same group of frontrunners. I don’t have any legitimate complaint to lodge against them, because if these are the five they think have been most outstanding then there’s nothing to criticise there. The cited nominees were Arronofsky (Black Swan), Fincher (The Social Network), Hooper (The King’s Speech), Nolan (Inception), and Rusell (The Fighter) – if you’re paying attention you’ll notice that these are the five films up for the Golden Globe for Best Picture, Drama.
From all suppositions one could assume that this is the set of nominees that we can expect from the Academy, although most forecasters are predicting an upset for True Grit. Maybe I’m still a bit naive in this sense, but I still don’t see the correlation between boxoffice and awards’ accolades. Most are citing the surprise success of True Grit at the boxoffice as indication of a recent surge for the film awards’ wise. I’m neither here nor there on that. What strikes me as even stranger, though, is the sentiment that the DGA voted for the race as it was two months ago, and the AMPAS voters (many of them in the DGA) will have to take True Grit’s financial success into consideration to consider the race right now. Poppycock, I say. Who knows...maybe the voters are that fickle, but that just sounds absurd. Does the film being a success make it any better or worse directed? I have no idea (and by that, I mean a thousand times *no* it doesn’t). I’m thinking there will be an upset in the directing race, but I’m not sure I think it’ll be the Coens, but if not the Coen’s then who? The film that you’d most have expected to make a year-end surge (The Way Back) seems to have bowed out of the race with barely a whimper and I want to think that they’ll remember Choldenko but her work is really low-key and they’ll prefer to honour her in the screenplay category. I’ll stick to this quintet for now
Not that she isn’t fine in the role – the strongest compliment I can pay her (with a clear conscience) is that she does everything the script asks her to. She doesn’t bring anything especially individualistic to the role, and that’s not a problem in itself– but I’m moved to think that Portman’s own “good” performance only seems excellent because Aronfsky refuses to let her sell the role on her own. Perhaps, it’s a continuance of his continuing attention to the unsubtle. It’s not that cinema doesn’t call for ameliorations from music, and lighting to emphasise character but I get that feeling that the visual frenzy we’re thrust into intensifies what’s there so it emerges as more forceful than it really is. It’s as I noted in my write-up on Portman, she thrives in the quiet moments, which of course makes Nina’s problems with finding the “black swan” within more difficult. And once again, it’s possible to read the any fickleness in characterisation as an extension of the character and not a fault of Portman. When she shines brightest, though, it’s especially luminous – like a bathroom call from her mother which is a perfect portion of the film that’s incredibly personal and not at all pretentious perfectly encapsulating Nina’s isolation and loneliness. The sort of scene that makes that final confrontation between Hershey and Portman at the film close all to obvious – even if I’ll single out Hershey as the film’s best-in-show despite of (and not because of) the film’s visual intensity where she’s concerned.
