Filed under: Published film reviews | Tags: 12 Years a Slave, 1920’s Hollywood, Academy Awards, Afterglow, Alexander Payne, Alfonso Cuaron, American Hustle, Amy Adams, Best Picture, Brad Pitt, Bruce Dern, Captain Phillips, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Christian Bale, Dallas Buyers Club, David O'Russell, Elizabeth, George Clooney, GoodFellas, Gravity, Her, History of Oscars, Jared Leto, Jennifer Garner, Jennifer Lawrence, Joaquim Phoenix, June Squibb, Leonardo di Caprio, Los Angeles, Martin Scorsese, Matthew McConaughey, Michael Fassbender, movie studios, Nebraska, Oscar ceremony, Oscars 2014, Paul Greengrass, Philomena, Plan B Productions, Raging Bull, Roy Woodroof, Sandra Bollock, Shakespeare in Love, Spike Jonze, Steve Corgan, Steve McQueen, Taxi Driver, The Kodak Theater, the Motion Picture Academy, The Wolf of Wall Street, Tom Hanks, Will Fort, William Friedkin, World War Z
I was told when I worked at a talent and literary agency in Hollywood many years ago that the formation of the Oscar awards was a cynical endeavor. The legend went that there had been a rash of sordid incidents in Hollywood in the 1920’s involving starlets and wannabes who came to Los Angeles from all over the US, and so the Oscars were set up by the big bosses of the day as a way to create a nobler image of Hollywood and garner some good press. I’m not sure this tale is true, but I don’t dismiss its possibility outright. What is certainly true is that because of the prestige and positive exposure of the Academy Awards, studios spend millions of dollars and hire publicists to promote their films during “the Oscar season.” This practice has generated accusations that the Oscars are influenced more by marketing, than by quality. In 2009, William Friedkin, himself an Academy Award winning film director and former producer of the ceremony, described the Oscars as, “the greatest promotion scheme that any industry ever devised for itself.”
Despite its potentially disreputable origins and many criticisms of the event, the Oscars are still a grandiose affair I love. Speaking of grand, I’m going to make my predictions about the Best Picture category, and then wait with bated breath to see if I’m correct. I think that the Oscar will go to 12 Years a Slave or The Wolf of Wall Street. My reasoning is that the Academy will not award Steve McQueen Best Director, given his age and his competition in this category, and unless they award Chiwetel Ejiofor Best Actor, they will not want to appear racist by overlooking this film in the major categories (racism is still a hot subject in the US). Moreover, Brad Pitt’s production company produced it, and there have been some bad press and disappointed expectations regarding his costly movie World War Z, so the industry might want to generate some positive feelings. If it is, indeed, 12 Years a Slave, a movie I found beautiful to look at, but too didactic and self-conscious, it won’t be the first time nepotism and guilt won the day (I remember sitting open mouthed when Shakespeare in Love won Best Picture in 1999). If it’s The Wolf of Wall Street, then it will be in an effort at atonement for the fact that Scorsese has never won the Best Picture award, despite his films Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Goodfellas. Best Director, yes, but never Best Picture. Moreover, Leonardo di Caprio has never won an Oscar, so he may get the Best Actor win, but if he doesn’t, there could be the desire to create a balance with the Best Picture. Don’t get me wrong, I loved The Wolf of Wall Street, but I don’t think it deserves Best Picture. I can live with this win, however.
I’ll be gutted if American Hustle wins. Talk about nepotism and a popularity contest. Writer/Director David O’Russell has delivered fine films, such as The Fighter and Silver Linings Playbook, but this isn’t as good as it’s touted to be. Sure, the actors are charismatic and capable, the production design is entertaining, the soundtrack is nostalgic, and there are fun costumes, as well as a lot of time devoted to amusing hairstyles, but there’s little point or suspense to this film.
I’ll also be upset if Philomena wins either Best Picture or Best Adapted Screenplay. Sure, it’s harrowing subject matter (see my thoughts on 12 Years a Slave and the appearance of being sympathetic), the acting is brilliant, the humor is good, but this shouldn’t be confused with the Best Picture or the Best Adapted Screenplay. The Former ‘cause there are more comprehensively great films this year in the category. The second, for the same reason, and because there is a storyline introduced and dropped rather clumsily that should eliminate it from this honor: the scene is the one in which Philomena and Martin meet her son’s adopted sister, who came with him from the convent. Mary (Mare Cunningham) states they did not have a happy childhood, and suggests cruelty on the part of their adopted father, but this is not developed. She claims that Philomena’s son never mentioned or considered their origin, Ireland, or his biological mother, a fact that is later completely discredited. I was left with many questions about Mary’s motives for lying, and the inclusion of this scene in the film, and believe that without developing these provocative storylines introduced here (which the film did not) this scene should have been cut. Its insertion niggled me, and I suspect its inclusion is a clumsy attempt to create a sense of ‘jeopardy” before the third act. But I digress.
Captain Phillips was suspenseful and well shot, but not the Best Picture in my opinion. Nor is Her. Relevant, and a great concept, but not the Best Picture. And I think that despite Spike Jonze’s contacts and cult status in the biz, even the Academy won’t give this film the win. Gravity is beautiful and has lofty existential themes that I find incredibly interesting, but if this wins it will be because the Academy doesn’t want to seem as though it didn’t get it. It’s more likely Alfonso Cuaron will get Best Directing (though I hope Alexander Payne gets it). I’ll be happily surprised if either Dallas Buyer’s Club or Nebraska wins Best Picture (though, as mentioned, I’m fine with the atonement and ‘career honor’ motivations prompting Scorsese’s film to win). If neither Dallas Buyers Club nor Nebraska win the Best Picture, then I hope to god that they win Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Original Screenplay, respectively – they deserve it (see my notes on Philomena), or that one of them gets the Best Actor win.
It would be too lengthy a piece to cover the race for Best Actor and Best Actress, or Best Supporting Actor and Actress. Suffice it to say that the competition is thick (please let it be Matthew McConaughey or Bruce Dern! Please let it be Judi Dench or Cate Blanchett!) But, again, it’s worth remembering that members of the Academy choose the winners – these are fallible folks who work, or have worked, in the industry of movies. Similar to the rest of the big honors, the acting prizes have been criticized for not recognizing superior performances so much as being given for personal popularity, sentimental reasons, atonement for past mistakes, or as a “career honor” in order to recognize a distinguished nominee’s entire cannon of work…watch it all with a grain of salt, and enjoy the fete.
Filed under: Published film reviews | Tags: AIDS, alternative therapy, Dallas, HIV, Jared Leto, Jean-Marc Vallee, Jennifer Garner, Killer Joe, Magic Mike, Matthew McConaughey, Mud, Oscars 2014, Ron Woodroof, The Lincoln Lawyer
The true story of Ron Woodroof (Matthew McConaughey), a promiscuous straight man who finds out he’s HIV positive in Texas of 1985. When doctors tell him he has days to live, he turns to black market medicine and becomes an unlikely hero.
Woodroof is Texas trailer-trash, working as an oil company electrician and screwing former rodeo glories while off his head on booze and lousy coke. He doesn’t pay attention to his declining health till a work accident lands him in the hospital. Woodroof initially refuses his diagnosis, and then he defies it. Abandoned by his redneck friends and fired from his job, Woodroof does not despair and, instead, hazards into Mexico for unsanctioned drugs and alternative treatments in an effort to stall the disease. We discover that Woodroof possesses a nimble mind, as he realizes an opportunity for a swift buck and quickly deciphers baffling medical science and pierces through hospital bureaucracy and governmental bluster. He creates the club of the title, a shrewd legal dodge in which desperate sufferers of AIDS don’t buy illegal medicine, but pay a monthly membership fee in which drugs are a perk. To navigate the marketplace, Woodroof gains an unlikely guide in the form of transsexual Rayon (Jared Leto), another AIDS victim refusing to be victimized.
But this isn’t a hackneyed Hollywood offering about a journey of self-discovery. Nor is it a vulgar sentimental film. Woodruff does not become a different person – he remains a scheming asshole and lowlife, and it’s his offensive personality that gives him the elixir for survival. Matthew McConaughey’s latest film is yet another indication that he has left fake tans, bulging biceps, and silly flicks, and is actually an exciting and talented actor, as evidenced in his most recent films, such as Mud, Magic Mike, Killer Joe, and The Lincoln Lawyer. McConaughey has turned the victim narrative on its head with a completely convincing portrayal of a hostile, but unbreakable spirit. This is a truly remarkable film with an independent spirit, full of characters that are both romantic and fallible.
Filed under: Published film reviews | Tags: GoodFellas, Jonah Hill, Jordan Belfort, Leonardo Dicaprio, Margot Robbie, Martin Scorsese, Mathew McConaughey, modern greed, Oscars 2014, Raging Bull, Taxi Driver, Wall Street
Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio) dreams of being super rich, but after losing his Wall Street job in the crash of 1987, his hopes are dashed. Inspired by a shifty local operation that sells “penny” stocks to working class stiffs, Belfort starts his own dealership, hires a group of his degenerate buddies from high school to work for him, exploits those willing to invest in his firm, and manipulates the market, culminating in outrageous profits for him and millions spent on his decadent lifestyle.
The Wolf of Wall Street has been heralded as the first Scorsese film in a long time with the energy and substance of his early greats, such as Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and GoodFellas. This is certainly the material of Scorsese’s classics – a criminal survivor story with an antihero who pushes the audience to the limits of its empathy. Jordan Belfort could be the worst of ‘em, too, as he exploits the poor and revels in his obscene wealth. The movie clocks in at just under three hours long, also, which is typical of Scorsese. What is different about this Scorsese film is that it’s funny. Jonah Hill, who plays Belfort’s sidekick, is consistently and effortlessly hilarious as a hedonistic dipshit. Mathew McConaughey is comedic, and despite being in the film for only a short time, he leaves an indelible mark on it. It is DiCaprio’s performance, however – versatile, commanding, relaxed, powerful, complex, and humorous – that makes this movie magnetic. This film simmers in one’s thoughts long after leaving the cinema. Yes, it arguably glamorizes drugs, money, sex, arrogance, and selfishness, but I think that this is missing the point. Scorsese isn’t blaming Wall Street for its excesses, he’s pointing the finger at us for allowing the world to become so disturbingly greedy, with its aspirations for wealth and notoriety at any price. This is an invigorating and timely film.