Oscar Talk: Dream Duos

I always like watching the road to the Oscars because it’s always cool seeing the nominees fraternising with each other; a bit like watching animals in their natural habitat or whatnot. Last year, I’d have given anything to see an eventual pair-up between Gabourey Sidibe and Carey Mulligan (they always seemed so chummy at events) or Helen Mirren and Meryl Streep. So, I made my own list – using the 20 nominees for the 2010 here are the five duos I’d most love to see.

          

Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner

I’ve always wanted to see Mark Ruffalo play an ultimately badass (though it is fun watching him play the ultimate stoner). And, with Renner being in good form throughout The Town playing the aggressive role for all its worth, I’d be much interested in seeing them battle it out as criminals at war. My limited imagination is seeing too much of The Departed playing out, which probably wouldn’t work as well. But, they’re such opposing technical forces it’d be interesting watching them battle it out.

Jennifer Lawrence and James Franco

I hate to sound superficial, but Jennifer Lawrence is so pretty I want to see her actually use that beauty (for good or ill) in a movie. And who better to pair her opposite than James Franco? That’s a whole lot of hotness. I don’t know why, though, but I’m now immediately flashing back to Bright Star (I swear, I can’t get that movie out of my head since we started studying Keats this semester). I’m not sure if either has a good British accent, but I wouldn’t be averse to seeing them in a period piece, but – really – I’m not that picky. Their aestheticism may distract me...

        

Amy Adams and Natalie Portman

Perhaps it’s the red hair that I’ve seen them each sport before, but don’t they seem like an obvious duo to play a sister/sister pair. One reason I hate the Oscars’ is because in cheering on our favourites there’s that tendency to end up (ostensibly at least) disliking the competition, but though I’m not backing her I do like Natalie Portman. I find her general nature quite charming, and I’m even fonder of Amy Adams. I can’t see how any casting director could go wrong pairing the two women opposite each other in a nice drama.

          

Annette Bening and Geoffrey Rush

Both Annette and Geoffrey have a stringent theatrical nature to them that’s often mistaken for histrionics (see Quills, Being Julia) and they’re both actors who work well opposite their respective scene partners. This makes me keenly interested in the idea of seeing them play opposite each other in something decidedly theatrical. Honest truth, the first idea that popped into my head was seeing them play opposite each other in Macbeth, but even something deliberately whimsical or anachronistic like a play within a play (a la Shakespeare in Love, or once again – Being Julia). Just think of the glorious shouting matches the two would have.

                

Helena Bonham Carter and Nicole Kidman

I have no idea what I’d want them to star in together, but it’s possible that this much brilliance in one film could make me combust. They’re at such opposite sides of the spectrum as actors it would be especially interesting to see what they’d be like in close proximity to each other – Kidman could be a younger stand-in for the Margaret Schlegel type in Howards End, even if I’m not in love with her British accent. But, really, I can’t be the only one who’d like to see them play against each other – they both have underrated (albeit brilliant) comedic performances. Perhaps, frenemies at war?

        

Of the twenty nominees, which pairing would you like to see come to fruition? How about adding one of the five director nominees to each of my would-be films?

Original Music, Film Conceits, James Franco and other musings on 127 Hours

It’s probably evidence of how my mind hops about, but when 127 Hours ended the thing that I was thinking of was not Aaron’s plight but the injustice of the new rules for Best Original Song. If you’re an Oscar fanatic, you’d have known by now that in order to find nominees all original song contenders are played on a loop so voters can discern their context in the film. Ostensibly, the idea seems sound since it urges voters to ensure that songs aren’t extraneous – but am I the only one who thinks that such a decision encourages voters to vote for the best use of a song and not for the merit of the song itself? Case in point: Rahaman’s “If I Rise” in 127 Hours – I’ll withhold judgement on the song’s actual value but few can deny that the moment said song is played in 127 Hours all but demands that it emerges as a serious contender in the race. And it’s not that loathe Danny Boyle (I haven’t seen most of his early work) it’s the sort of obsequious attempts at being relevant and hip (incidentally, qualities that suffused Slumdog Millionaire) which prevents me from being altogether enthusiastic about 127 Hours.

It’s James Franco’s show and the third notable performance of his this year – the third character inspired by true events. First, the aspiring actor/lover of Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat Pray Love, second the revolutionary poet Alan Ginsberg in Howl and now Aaron Ralston in 127 Hours. The role reminded me of Nina Sayers in the much fêted Black Swan. Like in Portman in Black Swan, more so even, Franco is required to carry the film on his shoulders whilst experiencing intense suffering that makes him a sort of shoo-in for awards’ recognition. Excuse the cynicism, I wouldn’t posit that it’s impossible to appreciate either performances on their own merit but I’m constantly wondering if awards’ voters are voting for what they’re actually attracted to or if they’re enticed by the cinematic conceits that set up an actor in a role that almost demands they gain attention for. Franco’s natural winsome nature is his strongest tool here. Unlike Spencer Tracy in The Old Man & the Sea or even Tom Hanks in Cast Away he’s also buoyed by the narrative and the fact that the circumstances resulting in his isolation are more pressing.

Boyle overdoes it, though, with direction that’s so officious I often found myself questioning his decisions. I couldn’t help but think of Sofia Coppola’s Somewhere, which I’d screened the day before I saw 127 Hours. Basic differences aside, both films were similar in attempting to show the development (or lack thereof) of a protagonist who was in a state of physical stagnation. In Boyle’s defence I could presume that his intrusiveness is an attempt to emulate Aaron’s own sensibilities but the decision seems questionable and doesn’t always benefit the story. True, this tendency of his serves to emphasise the technicalities of the film – like the very agitated editing and cinematography and most notably the sound design, which is especially commendable. Yet, there’s the striking sense that overemphasising these technical aspects do little – if anything – to enhance Aaron’s plight, in what should be a character study, he vetoes any attempt at poignancy (although,  maybe, there isn't any poignancy in the character) and instead goes for a deliberate faux-sense of being current, I can almost hear the film tapping itself on the shoulder, Don't I look cool?. It’s not so much that there’s an excess of tonal shifts, but the potentially sedate story seems deliberately over stylised to make it unnecessarily jaunty which in the end seems subversive when the ending comes and he closes it all with a the grave realisation of life’s value and whatnot.

Danny Boyle has a talent for the visceral – and he knows to keep the audience interested and whatever its flaws 127 Hours is rarely dull. It’s nowhere near a terrible film and instead reminds me of a film like The Town – vaguely engaging but rarely giving anything more than transient pleasure. I look at its coolness and think, Hmmm, that's interesting....what's for dinner?

            

C+

Howl

Allen Ginsberg, visionary poet and writer of Howl is giving an interview. He’s not yet at the age of celebrity; he’s still vaguely uncomfortable in his skin. He still has remnants of what seems to be a stutter and though he’s not quite fidgety he still twitches at the weirdest of moments. As the interview unfolds he tells us about his life, wherein the film segues into black-and-white scenes that occur in nonlinear fashion. This is juxtaposed with the “Howl” trial – the 1957 obscenity trial where the Lawrence Ferlinghetti publisher of Allen Ginsberg’s epic poem was accused of perpetuating obscenity. All this occurs as we see Ginsberg at what seems to be the premiere reading of “Howl” at a club where his poetic lyrics are enhanced (well, in theory) by a series of animated images. That is, essentially, Howl – on a visceral level. If you follow me on twitter you may have heard me talk about its weirdness, which makes it all the more difficult to review.

 

I’ve had people calling this Franco’s year (although I think they were singing the same tune in 2008). Allen’s introspection may be wrong way to convince sceptics of Franco’s validity as an actor (I’m still generally on the fence about him, though I’m not against his star rising), and I suppose the reportedly visceral nature of 27 Hours, which I’ve yet to see, might be the more appropriate way for him to get recognised – hence the Oscar buzz. Still, there’s much to admire about his performance in Howl. The problem isn’t that he’s sidelined by his supporting players, he’s easily the strongest in the film, but the fact that this 90 minute spends so much time away from Ginsberg robs Franco the chance of delivering all that he can – though he does the most anyone could with the role. It’s not so much a physical transformation, as it is a psychological one. It’s striking too watch him be Ginsberg in all his emotional uncertainty.

The thing is, Howl is making a brave attempt to do something avant garde that it seems like a step backward to have the very tongue-in-cheek closing words of the trial set up the end of the film. We already know art is important, we already know that it isn’t easy and that shouldn’t be a victim to censorship but it robs the film of that ambiguousness that was working for it that far. It ends up making the film a little more tepid than we’d hope from something so seemingly experimental. Incidentally, though, it doesn’t make the film any less worthy of being seen. It’s the sort of movie where a grade can’t help but seem a trifle arbitrary (even though I spent a particularly long time trying to find one). It sort of reminded me of Antichrist - which I sort of hated, but was worth seeing anyway if only for its scope. It’s not exactly the same with Howl, I like it more – though it’s remarkably flawed. But it’s still well worth seeing.

            
C+ (but a B+ for intent, and another B+/A- for Franco)