Encore Awards: Actors

It’s been an unusually good year for the leading men. I look at the Academy’s list of nominees, and even though one in particular sticks out oddly– it’s not a terrible performance. I could easily flip-flop between my actual list of nominees and the six finalists and still be satisfied with whatever top 5 I come up with. This was actually the category that gave me the most indecision in choosing nominees; never has a list of nominees felt so arbitrary, even the winner is debatable. Last year Ben Whishaw in Bright Star was an indisputable winner, but I’d be willing to give any of these five gentlemen a gold star. So, in the face of the generally bland showing of 2010 films it’s nice to see such good male performances.

        
(Click on the photos of the gents for full-reviews of featured film)
         

THE NOMINEES
Stephen Dorff in Somewhere (as Johnny Marco)

Coppola is so interested in getting that listless tedium of real life down Dorff is forced to play the part through expressions and not dialogue, and he succeeds impeccably. Coppola’s lucky that he has the sort of open face that’s able to convey the blandest of emotions without making them seem hackneyed, so all those somewhat injudicious close-ups work incredibly well. He doesn’t make Johnny into two irreconcilable characters – the father and the actor – they’re one and the same, both of them hopeless cases so when that emotional breakthrough (breakdown?) comes towards the end it’s not completely unexpected, and not at all forced but it’s still profound and moving. (Highlight: Breakdown)

Aaron Eckhart in Rabbit Hole (as Howie)*

As the narrative of unfolds, you realise that Howie seems bland around Becca, not because the character is substandard or because Eckhart is not trying hard enough; it’s because Eckhart’s Howie is aware of how tenuous a grip on life his wife has, he’s just making the decision to be silent about it, which is why those looks he steals her way in the first half hour become so important. He’s just as tightly wound, and has even more trouble opening up to those around him because no one expects it of him. That’s why that argument with Becca comes off as more soliloquy than conversation, he has a whole lot of pent up rage inside. That adage of still waters running deep couldn’t be more significant. (Highlight: Walking the Dog)

Jesse Eisenberg in The Social Network (as Mark Zuckerberg)

There are times where’s he’s just a bit excessive with the physical tics, but the moments where he succeeds most are the deposition scenes where he’s able to merge the potentially arcane reasons beneath Mark’s ostensibly reckless behaviour against the somewhat wiser and still very gauche sensibilities of his present day sense. He just might get off with playing up the eccentricities of the character in earnest, because since it’s a real person he has a smokescreen to hide behind but he ultimately wins because he decides to carve Mark’s most piercing moments around more than just those tics, while managing not to let the inevitable vulnerability within become too much of an absolution of his less attractive qualities. (Highlight: “Does that answer your condescending question?”)

Colin Firth in The King’s Speech (as King George VI)

Because of the manner in which Seidler opts to establish Bertie’s idiosyncrasies Colin is obliged to characterise Bertie by the relationship he has with those around him. The rapport between he and Rush emerges as most obvious, but three significant moments of his play out opposite other performers. It’s easy to play the psychological motives behind his stutter trite, and Hooper and Seidler are lucky that Colin doesn’t play them as such. You can trace the moment he shuts down opposite his father, or note the self-deprecating way he speaks to his brother or the ways he opens up – or conversely closes up opposite his Queen. He’s anomalous in the way he keeps his emotions close to his chest, but reveals them under pressure – and Firth ensures that the transition between the two is natural. (Highlight: Either A Story for his Girls or A Bedroom Conversation with his Wife)

Ryan Gosling in Blue Valentine (as Dean)

Gosling has a natural ambiguity to him that makes him all wrong for the palpable villainy of his role in All Good Things but perfect for the role of Dean here. Unlike Williams the narrative isn’t as interested in his back-story, so it’s up to him to create that impression of a real person with underlying issues – and not just in the more obvious scenes. Thus, the ambiguity ends up working – excellently – to his advantage as he manages to avoid any propensity for playing the character like a villain, instead finding the most sincere emotions in a man who’s sort of drifting through life, but who we don’t loathe. (Highlight: Pleading his case at the film’s end)

FINALISTS: Leonardo DiCaprio brings that same sort of intensity that has defined his recent performances to his Teddy in Shutter Island, but it’s more than an exercise in something he’s already done. For one, he must carry the entire film on his shoulders and he succeeds even when the narrative gets too pulpy; James Franco in Howl; even if you ignore the fact that this is James Frecheville debut, his performance in Animal Kingdom is still something special. Unlike his supporting cast, he must establish his characters through the most tacit of inclinations – and he delivers from that opening scene; this time around with Fuqua Ethan Hawke examines a different side of his range in Brooklyn’s Finest; in the same way that Hamilton avoids the temptation to make Night Catches Us the stereotypical racial drama Anthony Mackie does not give in to the possibility of turning Marcus into a formulaic “angry young man” – he grounds his character in a firm sensitivity that becomes one of the film’s strongest suits; Ewan McGregor doesn’t come off as particularly mysterious but he manages to be something in The Ghost Writer. It’s his film, and though he carries it on his shoulders he does so unobtrusively knowing when to recede for the supporting players to shine but always ready to take control again.

SEMI-FINALISTS: Collin Farrell eschews his most obvious calling cards in Ondine deciding to establish Syracuse with a steady reticence that feels like under acting but isn’t really. He’s not the film’s main enigma, but he manages to be even more mysterious by playing his emotions so close to his chest and still never being disingenuous; I’d give James Franco an A for effort in 127 Hours, simply because you know that he’s doing the best possible job he can with what he’s effort – and you know that he’s relishing it. Sometime he falls victims to Boyle’s own intent to evade the harsher tones of his character but ultimately it’s his performance – and little else – that’s able to evince any semblance of emotion from the stony narrative; Aaron Johnson needs to establish that certainty of charisma in Nowhere Boy without “playing” John Lennon, and he does it with startling adeptness – at least from where I sit. He’s still rough around the edges as a performer, but he (and Taylor-Wood) use that newness to his advantages making Lennon a fine example of someone trapped by his surroundings, but not melodramatically so; Kodi Smith-McPhee is even better in Let Me In than he was in The Road. He’s not the one playing the “old” character, but he imbues Owen with all the emotional complexities that you’d expect from an older thespian and delivers on the facial expressions when Reeves roots the film in the visuals and no dialouge; sometimes you get the feeling that someone else could have done the title role in Baumbach’s Greenberg better, but that doesn’t mean that Ben Stiller isn’t doing good work. He’s slightly unsubtle as we first meet the character, but the rapport he strikes between Gerwig and (especially) Ifans reveal a warmer side to him as an actor (and the character) that’s surprising and impressive; Mark Walhberg in The Fighter

Who’s your best actor of 2010?

       

*I already want to rejudge and give Dorff the gold and perhaps allow Firth or Eisenberg to slide into silver. There ALL so good!

Notes on Blue Valentine

Blue Valentine is a film that’s explicit in its lack of specificity as it examines the ennui that comes with marriage. You may often hear divorced couples citing “irreconcilable differences” as the reason for the disintegration of their marriage. As far as grounds for divorce goes, it’s probably the vaguest and it’s from this same state of general ambiguity that Cianfrance roots the dissolution of the marriage in Blue Valentine on. Dean and Cindy are in a failing marriage and neither of them seem able to discern why. It depends on an atmosphere shrouded by the story that’s redolent of the twitchy awkwardness of Greenberg or the meandering apathy of Somewhere. Blue Valentine is uncomfortable and even gauche because that’s the situation that our protagonists are in and in that way Blue Valentine depends as much on its actors as much as it serves them up an almost impossible task.

I’ve never been a particularly big fan of Michelle Williams, since her Dawson’s Creek days she’s always had the tendency to personify the characters she plays with a harshness that seems unnecessarily harsh and in watching her play Cindy in the present it would seem as if she’s doing the same – she’s not, though. It’s a difficult task playing a character then and now when the “then” is so recent and the way that we go to the “now” are so vague. Williams tasks the task and delivers with aplomb, though, allowing the same potentially cute features of the younger Cindy to stagnate and become the tics that divide us from completely surrendering to her when she ages. It sound too easy – too easy – especially when you think of the cavalier manner that Gosling must play Dean in. To be honest, Cianfrance seems to intent on playing him up as a villain too often. Still, Gosling uses his natural intensity to create Dean as a bit of surprising entity. I find it impossible not to choose him in the battle of the spouses – not because his Dean is more sympathetic, but because he’s playing with his heart on his sleeves (as he should) something that doesn’t necessarily make him a better but marks how much he yields to his characters faults, fearlessly. It’s not really Williams fault that I can’t love her wholly.

I can’t love Blue Valentine wholly either, and it’s not because it’s a downer. Whereas I can accept the dwindling nature of Somewhere as indicative of Coppola’s overall point Blue Valentine makes its point but Cianfrance seems more interested in establishing how depressing the marriage has become and the flashback scenes work not because of a palpable interest in that portion of the narrative (as far as I can discern) but because Williams and Gosling are such troopers. Ultimately, Cianfrance succeeds because he at least shows some legitimate interest in his characters but at times there’s too stringent a feeling of dawdling which makes sense in the present day portions of the film, but robs the flashbacks of any chance to suggest a different alternative to the relationship. And if the relationship was so obviously doomed, I can’t help but wonder what the point of it all was.

        

B

Encore Awards: Memorable Scenes (Part One)

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

Alice in Wonderland

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.

Black Swan

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.

Easy A

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.

The Fighter

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

 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.

Inception

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?

The Ghost Writer

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.

The Kids Are All Right

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.

The King’s Speech

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.

The King’s Speech

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.

Mother & Child

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.

Rabbit Hole

 

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.

Scott Pilgrim vs the World

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.

The Social Network

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?

2010 in Review: Marriage is hard

Blue Valentine, which I’m yet to review, offers up what is probably the most stagnant portrayal of marriages that’s potentially off-putting in its desire to capture that tedium that marriage sometime reaches. I can’t decide if it’s my favourite portrayal of marital bliss (or lack thereof) this year since it has the advantage of focusing resolutely on the marital relations between the lead characters. Chloe pretends that it’s interested in examining the stagnancy of marriage but that’s just really a smokescreen for Egoyan’s agenda (not that I’m really sure what those are). This year wasn’t one full of romance – or of marriage, expect in incidental bits. We could probably add Rabbit Hole and The Kids Are All Right to Blue Valentine as two that deal significantly with it – though it’s not the main arc in either. I still think it’ difficult to pinpoint a single theme for The Kids Are All Right, since sperm donation seems especially vague and unsatisfactory – and that moment where Jules confronts her family to give her semi-soliloquy of sorts (Julianne’s strongest moment) functions as a major plot point for the film. Rabbit Hole is about dealing with grief, but like its potentially precise tagline (the only way out is through) the only way to assess Becca and Howie’s reaction to their son’s death is to examine marriage.

In The Greatest something similar occurs. When Susan and Sarandon take in the woman that’s carrying their dead son’s child – Pierce’s Allen reaches out to her getting some sort of closure, something that Susan’s Grace is lacking. The Greatest is an imperfect flick but it has its moments and though the two seem like a very odd couple, The Greatest is more obvious (not necessarily a bad thing) in examining how grief pulls a family apart. Unlike, Rabbit Hole, they don’t start the story eight months after the death. Brosnan was no stranger to tenuous marriages this year, though, playing opposite Olivia Williams in The Ghost Writer. I’d say he was better opposite Sarandon even The Ghost Writer is a better film. The marriage between Adam and Ruth is very incidental in The Ghost Writer, and Polanski doesn’t seem interested in it for its own sake – just for plot purposes, which – to an extent – is how Cobb and Mal’s relationship emerges in Inception. True, Marion Cotillard’s wonderful actressing is responsible for creating an emotional centre of sorts for Inception, its methodical way is sorely lacking in that department. I’m not fond of Leo here, though he soars most in his scenes opposite Marion – but as interesting as the arc is, it’s still Nolan’s most unconvincing.

That potentially unconvincing marriage makes me think of the King & Queen in The King’s Speech. I’m still fascinated by that arc in the film, even if Bonham Carter’s Queen Mother and her inclinations are poorly addressed. More than Rush’s admittedly good work, the film has its strongest grasp on me in two scenes – Bertie’s disastrous first meeting with that kooky voice coach, and that story he tells his daughters with the Queen silent in the background. Helena’s face has always been an enigma, but it’s even more exasperating here because she’s not playing an ostensibly mysterious character. I’d love to see Hooper (or maybe, Seidler) revisit this marriage since I’d be more invested in that relationship – though The King’s Marriage doesn’t have much of a ring to it. A bit like Eat Pray Love – Julia does all three beautifully, and her general charisma is invaluable, but my favourite portion of the film is neither eating, praying nor loving. I’m still overly fond of that New York chapter, and though I’ve been remiss in mentioning him Billy Crudup is intriguing opposite Roberts. Instead of Gilbert’s somewhat selfserving trip around the world, I’d not have minded a simple deconstruction of that marriage relationship. As little love as I have for Hofencer’s Please Give, though, I’ll laud it for the relationship between Platt and Keener which is handled so sensitively that I’m surprised at how insincere how everything around it seems. Maybe it only seems good in perspective. 

Patricia Clarkson played two wives this year, and the marriages seemed incidental in both. It’s difficult to deny the awesomeness of her and Stanley Tucci in Easy A, but Cairo Time is a puzzle – it’s perhaps the flipside to Blue Valentine. Juliette seems to be experiencing a bit of tedium in her marriage, though even that seems like too active of a word. That gentle placidity is one of the smartest things about Cairo Time, how it just all floats around, not aimless but not assertively. And more than Blue Valentine’s almost shocking teidum Juliette's dissonance in Cairo (most of the time without her husband) is probably the strongest example of a marriage gone stale, but not a bad marriage.

         

Marriage is hard, and it’s even harder making them work cinematically. Which married couples stood out last 2010 for you?