Goodbye February, Goodbye Oscar

So with the end of February comes the official end of the 2010 season. And, what a season it’s been. In my five years of taking the Oscars’ much too seriously, 2009 easily emerges as the worst (even though I loved the year in film, then). 2010 was okay, neither terrible nor excellent – rarely surprising, but always with something interesting (even if vaguely so). Last night’s Oscars were sort of a case in point. I didn’t feel disappointed or excited when the winners were announced; the single prize that actually made me gasp was Tom Hooper’s win. I feel bad for the guy – he, himself, seemed to shuffle embarrassedly to the stage, and I sincerely hope that that win doesn’t signal the death of his big-screen career before its beginning; and for the record, though he’s not my favourite in the category, an unobtrusive technique does not signify weakness in direction, yeesh. Other than that, it was quite tepid – even the “surprises” (Randy Newman, Pfister, Robert Stromberg) were expected in their way, so it was random bits like Cate Blanchett calling the makeup on The Wolfman “gross” and Kirk Douglas bantering with Colin and Hugh and Billy Crystal being awesome that made the night anything more than beige (or Annette Bening grinning through the entrire show, why is she always so happy?)

     

It’s the shortest month, and it felt even shorter – it just sort of flew by. I managed to wrap-up my own personal awards: with the usual dissonance between my own choices and AMPAS.

I was, as per normal, late with LAMB Casting – we’re on to a new film up for casting, the huge ensemble of P. T. Anderson’s Magnolia is up for reimagining (more details here).

Thanks to the usual readers for being their usual awesome selves (working on their own blogs and showing up here on occasion). Here are just a few of the comments I loved this past month.

On my discussion of Auspicious Cinema of 2010 (important films regardless of their quality, noted for their value, risk and originality) Tom of Reinvention: The Journal of a Dog-Lover, Book-Reader, Moviegoer, and Writer cites two The Kids Are All Right and Black Swan:

“I think Black Swan, of all of this year's films, will endure as an artistic moment that contemporary audiences have been scared to embrace. It is ahead of its time in terms of technical brilliance, telling a multi-layered story that affects the mind and heart on many levels. Those who are willing to enter its inferno of coming-of-age symbols will be forever changed.”

I’m not all with him there on Black Swan being before its time and whatnot, but this sort of discussion is one of the best parts of these year-end conversation – and I sort of love his “inferno of coming-of-age symbols” bit. It sounds highlight quotable.

    

I was musing over which of this year’s Oscar nominees I’d like to see hook-up in a film and Walter (of The Silver Screening Room) had some absolutely delightful ideas. I especially loved these two:

      

“Ooooh Bening/Rush makes me giddy, giddy, giddy. A remake of The Barkleys of Broadway? I never saw it, but it sounds like they'd be awesome in it -- husband/wife musical-comedy duo where she wants out). (a/n: how brilliant does this sound, though?)

Bardem and Firth as antagonists in a conspiracy thriller: both can be intense or easy-going, depending on the situation or role. The roles are interchangeable, but we get awesomeness no matter what!” (complete comment and post HERE)

I took a quasi-break from regular Oscar guessing to flashback to a personal favourite scene from On the Waterfront. I kept thinking how Eva Marie Saint and Marlon Brando there were so similar to Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer so many years later in another Best Picture Winner. Yojimbo of Let's Not Talk About Movies concurred:

“How can you NOT think of ‘Somewhere’ when Leonard Bernstein's tribal kettle drums, mournful brass, and keening strings are shared by both OTW and WSS?  This is a brilliant scene (and brilliant of you to include both parts of it—this cements the relationship between Edie and Terry, and transitions him from Hamlet-like conscience-fighting to not just deciding but taking action. And I've always loved the scene of them hand-in-hand running down the alleyway and their faces shining in the dark.” (full comment and post HERE)

And I rather loved Luke’s comment wrapping up the prognosticating for the season (HERE):

“Well, it seems you've got your answer to how the Academy will take A$lice in Wonderland's ‘let's barf visual effects on every frame’ mentality - they ate that crap up. I'm a little bothered by the Art Direction trophy - and just how much of the costuming was real and not CGI? And your final thoughts - how are you feeling about the movie that you named the most anticipated FOREVER ago ended up winning Best Picture. I sort of credit you with calling that one well over a year ago. Well done sir!”

With all the inklings I had, I should have just gone for the gut and predicted Alice in Wonderland in Art Direction. I do feel something vaguely akin to pride in having The King’s Speech being the film I was anticipating most of the year – even if I didn’t love it completely, it still made my top 7. And, really, though I know more than a few disagree (one, two) they could have picked a much more terrible winner – and I know some agree with me (one, two). I worry for Tom Hooper’s future (what with him “stealing the Oscar and all, sigh) but I’m absolutely fine with The King’s Speech resting as the film of the year.

          

So, goodbye February…how was it for you? Did you find the Oscars’ essentially bland? Did February fly by? Looking forward to March?

The King’s Speech

Sitting down to review The King’s Speech is a chore in itself – and I’ve been putting it off for such days. It’s difficult to separate the film from the currently (somewhat vague) antagonism that’s surrounding it in the face of its recent PGA win and Oscar nominations and, more so when I think about how long I’ve been waiting to see it. Hooper, often interested in touching on big names in history, turns to King George VI for his latest monarch’s relationship with his speech therapist – the Australian Lionel Logue. As Lionel and Bertie continue through the slog of familial issues and their effects on speech the King is faced with alternating pressures on the home front, a caring – if vaguely detached wife, a seemingly disappointed father and a caddish brother. The King’s Speech is a film that’s unconventional in its conventionality. True, the tale has little to suggest that it’s anything daring or brash but screenwriter David Seidler decides to root the film in a placidness where plotpoints develop not in the usual cinematic spurts but expand sedately – even lethargically – easing along, bit by bit.

It’s an approach that’s necessary because Hooper and company are interested in assessing Bertie not in relation to anyone else but in relation to himself, which renders The King’s Speech extraneous political affairs well, umm, extraneous. It sets itself up as a psychiatric drama, because you’d more likely have reason to measure this against The Prince of Tides (the middle portion at least) where a pleasant doctor aids someone with a troubled past than The Madness of King George an ostensibly similar story of a monarch at odds with himself and those around him. There’s no evidence to suggest that Hooper IS interested in making a prototypical monarch piece but his vision reeks of being indistinctly insular at portions at times because the staunchness with which the focus appears on Bertie and Logue gives the film a feeling of limitedness. Sort of like a dance with two players, but a host of superfluous – if diverting – participants meandering around; reminding me a bit of O. Russell and his occasional inclination to forget that The Fighter should be an ensemble drama.

It’s not that Hooper’s vision is dissonant in discerning what his film is about, but the supporting players around are on their own interesting enough to demand pertinent bits of storyline that their sorely lacking. One of the scene that plays out best in the film has George’s wife (a very serene Helena Bonham Carter) having a chat with Mr. Logue – Rush’s first appearance on screen. This meeting suggests things in both parties that you think would be addressed, but aren’t. Bonham Carter plays with just the right winsome air where she’s the standard Queen with just a tinge of snob about her (tea at the Logue’s) that’s not off-putting but part of her attraction. As interested as she is in ridding Bertie of his issues she’s not exactly driven by devotion, it’s an arc – their entire relationship – that seems especially perplexing when you’d expect his marriage to play as important a role in his speech as his family history. Measure that against Pearce’s cavalier older brother (probably the best work I’ve seen from him) who’s the right amount of cheeky and sanctimonious – without ever being despicable. Firth thrives against them both, so it seems a bit of a disservice to the narrative to have emotional peaks of the story develop behind closed doors – even if the metaphor there is amusing.

And, it’s not to say that the story that we’re actually given is poor – because the alacrity of the screenplay is one of the most charming things about the film. It avoids the most simplistic of traps by stopping the narrative just before George (with Elizabeth) experience seismic popularity. It’s a sort of representation of what Hooper and his company does best – he’s always able to prevent over-saturation. There’s something a bit too on-the-nose about the adage “less is more” but Hooper knows it well. He knows when to cut scenes and moreover when to END the story because as much as The King’s Speech has potential to tell us more it also has obvious potential to be overwrought which The King’s Speech avoids – it’s too classy for that. The thing is, it’s that sort of classiness that wafts over you after perusal, and though I’m not especially prone to the more obvious but sometimes Hooper’s penchant for subtlety descends into innocuousness. And, yes, in the end the payoff works because of – and not in spite of – that opting for a conclusion that’s enduring in its smoothness that I can appreciate for being so well done. It's a bit like Hooper was internalising the DESIDERATA and it's famous advice, go placidly amidst the noise and haste and it does do placid beautifully. It's not a discredit to the film that's it's more interested in the introspective than the extrospective, and yes it errs when it comes to examining those around Bertie. Sure, I'll admit I wanted better, but that's not really a judgement on the film itself - what was served up was perfectly fine, circumscribed on occasion  - but laudable.

B/B+