The Screengrab : julie christie

The Screengrab Holiday Special: Movies We’re Thankful For (Part Six)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 27 Nov 2008 17:30:00 GMT

SARAH CLYNE SUNDBERG IS THANKFUL FOR:

BILLY LIAR (1963)

Billy Fisher is a young man with a well-developed fantasy life and a rather disappointing real one. He lives in some unfun industrial Northern town in drab post-war England. Life after graduation is not all it was cracked up to be — despite working at a funeral parlor that hawks plastic coffins and having two fiancés, plus a girl on the side — Billy still lives with parents and grandmother. His closet is stuffed with calendars pilfered from work and unpublished manuscripts. In his spare time he escapes to his own private dictatorship where he is a leader-war hero and adoring citizens greet him with a "left-handed salute." He also dreams of moving to London to work as a scriptwriter, but doesn't seem to be able to get it together sufficiently to leave. A young and beautiful Julie Christie assures him, "It's easy, you get on a train, then four hours later you are there." Billy is not convinced. I saw this movie when I was about 16 and couldn't wait to get out of the European satellite town I lived in. Like some of the best pop music to come out of England, Billy Liar told me that I was not alone and that others had felt my pain. For this I am thankful.

FOXY BROWN (1974)

I saw Foxy Brown at an underground film festival in my hometown, I think I was in my late teens. Despite the rather ramshackle storyline and low production value I fell in love. Hard. There is this one scene where Pam Grier is getting dressed and ready for business. She's all fierce hotness and a little bit of one of her ample boobs is spilling out underneath her bra. She looks amazingly strong and sexy, but not so perfect that you cannot relate. Meanwhile she is stuffing razor blades into her Afro in order to prepare for a fight. As a teenage girl not particularly happy with the state of things in the world, Foxy Brown impressed me. She has a good job and a useless little brother. She knows no one was going to look out for her if she didn't do it herself. In short, she kept it together in a world that did its best to break her. This was a woman to follow. Over the course of the movie she is bruised, battered, raped and nearly killed. But she is a lady all the way and ultimately she comes out on top. Jack Hill wrote the script, but the movie would be nothing without Pam Grier. Thank you, Pam.

THE GRADUATE (1967)

There are few truths in life that aren't dealt with in The Graduate: love, aging, quashed dreams, generational strife, loneliness. It's a great movie to begin with and gets better with each viewing. (I should know, given that I've seen it upwards of fifteen times.) I think I may have started out just liking the story and the exquisite cinematography. Somewhat later I identified with poor Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) and his existential angst. (Who doesn't?) Now, as I begin to enjoy high balls and have accumulated more than my fair share of animal print clothing, I have shifted to feeling more kinship with Mrs. Robinson, Benjamin's aging paramour. She once was an art history major, but after getting knocked up by Mr. Robinson, her life took a more prosaic course than the one she hoped for. Now, she and Ben are two outsiders with vaguely artistic aspirations, too dark and severe for the sunny Southern California they inhabit. In short, The Graduate is like a Nina Simone compilation, the bible, or a nice flask; It'll help you through just about any situation.

Click Here For More Thanks From Andrew Osborne, Scott Von Doviak, Phil Nugent, Paul Clark & Leonard Pierce

Contributor: Sarah Clyne Sundberg

Screengrab Salutes: The Top 25 Leading Ladies of All Time (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 20:00:00 GMT

According to the famous quote, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only backwards and in high heels.

Sadly, Ms. Rogers didn’t make our Top 25 list, but the sentiment holds true for the Leading Ladies who did: after all, like the actors in our recent posting of The Top 25 Leading Men of All Time, the following matinee idols managed to fascinate and captivate over the course of varied careers with astonishing on-screen performances (and off-screen personas)...yet they also achieved their success in a notoriously sexist, looks-obsessed business with a tendency to relegate women to underimagined wife and girlfriend parts...

...or, to quote Goldie Hawn’s actress character in The First Wives’ Club, there are usually three stages to a woman’s Hollywood career: "Ingénue, district attorney, and Driving Miss Daisy.”

But not always, thankfully, as we here at the Screengrab hereby celebrate with our salute to 25 celluloid dames (some of them actual Dames) who defined and redefined our notions of film and femininity...backwards, forwards, up and down, in high heels, cowboy boots and everything in between.

25. NAOMI WATTS (1968 - )

Oh yes, Ms. Watts absolutely kills in the above scene from Mulholland Dr. But she has had a bit of a quality-control problem since, appearing in The Ring and its sequel, 21 Grams, Stay, King Kong, and the unnecessary remake of Funny Games. All of these movies seem risky and high-concept in the abstract, but all of them hedge their bets in some way and fail to deliver on their promise. They’re good enough for what they are, but none of them reach the greatness they suggest. Naomi Watts, however, completely throws herself into her roles. You can see the movie that could have been when she’s on-screen...if you can see anything but her, that is.

24. (TIE) JULIA ROBERTS (1967 - ) & JESSICA LANGE (1949 - )

In The Player, Robert Altman’s poison pen love letter to Hollywood, there’s a running gag about Julia Roberts: every producer pitches every project with her in mind, and even the integrity-bound screenwriter who vows that his “serious” indie film will feature “no stars” eventually gives in, leading to a charmingly self-deprecating film-within-a-film cameo by, yes, Julia Roberts. And though her wattage may have dimmed in recent years (along with the general star power of human actors versus, say, Chihuahuas and Decepticons), she’s still the current reigning champ of modern female movie stars in terms of her career Trifecta of salary (the first female star to crack the $20 million mark), box office clout (over $2 billion + international star power) and industry respect (with multiple awards, nominations and a Best Actress Oscar for her dynamo performance as the titular (get it?) legal clerk of Erin Brockovich). It hasn’t all been hosannas, of course: for all her fame, Roberts hasn’t really given that many memorable performances, and her star turns can range from somnambulant snoozers (The Pelican Brief, Mary Reilly) and romantic comedy fluff (Runaway Bride) to inexplicable appearances in unmitigated disasters like The Mexican and Mona Lisa Smile. But when she’s in the zone, her charisma and presence are formidable: many who loathed Pretty Woman on principle were nevertheless charmed (against their will!) by Roberts’ hooker with a heart of Amex gold, and when she lets herself be likably unlikable (as in her bittersweet chocolate romantic comedies Notting Hill and My Best Friend’s Wedding), she hints at a largely untapped range that may yet blossom in the second half of her already impressive career.

Lange made her movie debut in the 1976 King Kong remake. An actual look at the footage reveals that she was perfectly charming as a sweet but not-too-bright piece of fluff with vague aspirations to stardom, but the movie was used as a piñata by critics, and many of them went so far as to suggest that if Lange was convincing as a dumb blonde, that must mean that she wasn't acting. Badly burned, she didn't appear in another movie until Bob Fosse cast her as some kind of Wilhelmina Agency Angel of Death in 1979's All That Jazz. Her performance there was more kindly treated -- call it the lowered expectations, or Sarah Palin effect -- but it wasn't until she paired off against Jack Nicholson with an unexpectedly fiery performance in 1981's The Postman Always Rings Twice that people began to suspect that they just might have a live one. She followed that up in 1982 with a classic romantic-comedy lead in Tootsie and a performance as the doomed movie actress Frances Farmer (in Frances) that snapped a few necks. Her best work since then has include her performance as Patsy Cline in Sweet Dreams, her end-of-the-sisterhood trio in Crimes of the Heart, and her troubled, trouble-making military wife in Tony Richardson's Blue Sky, for which she won an Academy Award. (Sadly, the movie, which was completed in 1991, got caught up in the bankruptcy of its funding studio, Orion, and didn't make it to theaters until 1994, by which time Richardson had died.) Little that she has done since that has been especially worthy of her, though she has appeared onstage in London and on Broadway in Long Day's Journey Into Night and The Glass Menagerie. She is currently set to play the ruined society matriarch "Big Edie" Bouvier Beale (with Drew Barrymore as Little Edie) in a movie based on the Maysles brothers documentary Grey Gardens.

23. (TIE) SISSY SPACEK (1949 - ) & JANE FONDA (1937 - )

Sissy Spacek was the amoral girl-on-the-cusp-of-womanhood in three of the defining films of the '70s: Badlands, Carrie, and 3 Women (yeah, you read that right: I said 3 Women was a defining film of the '70s). She could have quit after that, but she moved on to playing maternal figures in the movies. Her eyes look different now. She’s lost the shock that made her seem so delicate and young and precious back then, but that shock was always hiding something else, something weirder and harder to define. Her only recent movie where she's recaptured the shade of her younger self was The Straight Story, in which she played a woman who was a little slow. The Straight Story is also one of the very few movies she’s made that’s worth a damn since 1977, so go figure.

Fonda's offscreen reputation as a Vietnam-era leftist political scold has largely overshadowed her legacy as an actress. If there's any justice in this, it has less to do with her right to express her opinions, however embarrassingly, in what passes for her private life, than with her misguided decision to waste what might have been her peak years as an artist on half-baked scripts that she seemed to select on the basis of whatever political message they seemed to be editorializing, whether it was the legacy of Vietnam or nuclear power or women's rights in the workplace. In the 1980s, she didn't seem to know what to do with herself, and she basically retired after an unpleasant run-in with Vietnam vets who picketed the set of the awful Stanley & Iris, in which she taught Robert De Niro to read. But if there was only a short window of time in which Fonda was an actress first and at the top of her game, what she did during that time would still qualify her for any Mount Rushmore of American movie actresses. She spent most of her first ten years in movies establishing herself as an exceptionally saucy, cuddly comic actress: she's a hoot, and a turn-on, even in Barabarella, one of the ugliest-looking rip-off jobs that a pretentious French twat ever talked his trusting American wife into starring in. When her tobacco-road inflection on the line "Essence of man?" and the scene where she shorts out the orgasm machine failed to give Henry Fonda a fatal heart attack, she went about any daughter's life's work another way, becoming "radicalized" offscreen while pouring all that angry, room-clearing energy into starring roles in They Shoot Horses, Don't They? and Klute, two of the least sentimental, most hard-edged, beautifully detailed portraits of doomed women of the New Hollywood era (or anytime). Her Bree Daniels in Klute, the New York prostitute who has total control over her clients and zero control of anything else in her life, remains one of the most perfectly executed and daring star performances in movies.

22. JOAN CRAWFORD (1905-1977)

It’s a testament to the sheer power of Joan Crawford’s personality that the mere act of portraying her can wreck a career: Faye Dunaway, once one of Hollywood’s most promising stars, took on the job in the infamous Mommie Dearest, and she was never the same again. It’s a cliché to say that some famous person is less a human being and more a force of nature, but it’s a cliché that was invented with Joan Crawford in mind: once a drifting youngster who only wanted to be a dancer, she got her hooks into Hollywood at a young age (becoming famous as a flapper even before the sound era made her a superstar), and she never let go for a second. In everything from acting to dancing to business to parenthood to sitting on the board of directors of Pepsi-Cola, Crawford insisted on running the game her way, and woe betide anyone who crossed her. For such a stunning screen presence – named by the AFI as the greatest female star of all time! – Crawford wasn’t the best there was at anything. She was an above-average dancer, but not a great one; she had a unique look – all flashing eyes and floating hair – but she wasn’t one of the screen’s greatest beauties; and she could put in some fine performances (witness Mildred Pierce and Strange Cargo for proof), but she was an unreliable box office draw and never one of the greatest actresses of her day. Indeed, as with her doppelganger Bette Davis, she’s often treasured as much for her bad performances, like Sudden Fear, as for her good ones. But there is probably no one in Hollywood history, male or female, who was so commanding, so arresting, so utterly implacable when she was onscreen: Joan Crawford had more presence than anyone who had come before or has been seen since, and if she wasn’t going to take over the world with her acting, then goddamn it, she at least was not going to be ignored.

21. JULIE CHRISTIE (1948 - )

Julie Christie! The rumors are true! Wait, no. Terry met Julie at Waterloo Station every Friday night. Hold it, she wasn’t just the subject of rock songs? Julie Christie could actually act? Yowza. Actually, even if the only movie she'd ever made was McCabe and Mrs. Miller, Julie Christie would still be one of my favorite actresses. But she’s always great, even when the movie isn’t. And despite the openness in her face (not to mention that incredible perpetual pout), she always brings a sense of mystery and intelligence to her roles, giving them a fully rounded life, though we sometimes only see a snippet.

Click Here for Part Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven & Eight

Contributors: Hayden Childs, Andrew Osborne, Phil Nugent, Leonard Pierce

Paris Hilton Pulls the Bullshit Train to Toronto

Phil Nugent — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 15:00:00 GMT

In the long-awaited follow-up to her last film triumph The Hottie and the Nottie, Paris Hilton stars as herself in Paris, Not France, described as a sociological-themed documentary about what "the Paris phenomenon" says about "this moment in culture." The director, Adria Petty, seems to enjoy likening her movie to Darling, the 1965 John Schlesinger film Darling, which was a non-documentary, and also non-good, character study of a shallow, beautiful actress (Julie Christie) whose shrill emptiness and jet-set lifestyle were once thought to have said just reams about their moment in culture. (The movie won Christie an Academy Award for her willingness to behave unpleasantly, so maybe the idea is that Paris, Not France will win some kind of meaningful artistic credibility for Hilton' creepy, dead-eyed smirk. One of several points at which the comparison breaks down: Christie's character, being a movie star, was actually famous for something.) Petty (who, being the daughter of Tom Petty, can be assumed to know something about the joys and hazards of being born into dynastic celebrity), who also shot the film, is about to enjoy a break that many first-time directors would sell out their grandmothers for: on Tuesday, she'll get to see her baby screened at the Toronto Film Festival, arguably the best-loved of all big-name international festivals, and the one with the best reputation for its focus on serving the interests of filmmakers and film lovers instead of providing one more circus of hype and celebrity sleaze. So it's leaving a bad taste in some mouths that Paris, Not France has turned out to be the center in what may be a cynical publicity stunt and bid for another fifteen minutes of the the attention of a jaded world.

The problems began last week, when word hit the papers Hilton had waved her lawyers at the Festival organizers and forced them to scale back their plans to award the movie three public screenings as well as a showing for the press. The implication was that the movie is so hot and critical of the talentless heiress that Hilton wants it suppressed, and if your first thought is to wonder what the hell could be in the movie that would embarrass the star of The Simple Life, not to mention her own homemade bedroom calisthenics tape, that's clearly the point. Thom Powers, who programmed the documentary arm of the festival, seemed to be taking credit for a coup when he told blogger Katrina Longworth, "From my standpoint, of course, I wish we could do additional screenings. But this is certainly a better option than not showing the film at all.” Presumably he's seen the film, and if he thinks that showing it at all is a good option, we'll trust his judgement for now. Longworth herself, though, speaks for the crowd when she writes that she's "got to wonder if there’s more to this than meets the eye. On the surface, you’ve got a rich, fame-hungry girl who allows a filmmaker to document her for publicity purposes as she tries to legitimize her outsized fame by recording an album. A couple of years later, that album is universally considered a joke, and those publicity materials have been expanded into a stand-alone film about Hilton’s relationship to her own celebrity. Paris has obviously lost control, and she’s obviously siccing Daddy’s lawyers on Petty et al in an effort to take that control back...but Paris has made a career out of managing the release of imagery that she supposedly didn’t want us to see. From the sex tape which she first sued over and then transformed into both a cash cow and a career platform, to the prison stay that turned into a week-long, weepy melodrama and dominated the news cycle all the way up to Paris’ march out of the county jail and into her mother’s waiting getaway vehicle, all of Hilton’s career high points have involved the transformation of humiliation into triumph. It’s not that her reputation is “based on shamelessness”––it’s that she continually turns events that should be shameful into products for public consumption. I don’t think we’re dealing with anything different here, and I don’t think we should be surprised."

As Longworth points out, the really odd thing about this fiasco is the announcement that Hilton had somehow "pressured" the festival to cancel all screenings of the film but one." "It would be one thing," she writes, "if the Hilton camp has insisted that the film be removed from the festival completely––I don’t know the laws, but this is something I assume they would have the right to do, considering that Petty’s footage came from her contract to produce publicity materials for a DVD and is now going towards personal use––but they didn’t. Instead, they’ve made tickets to Paris‘ single TIFF screening a hot commodity." Now the New York Post's "Page Six" is explicitly reporting that Hilton " "has craftily manipulated the prestigious Toronto International Film Festival in an attempt to gain more publicity for a new documentary about herself." Hilton's flak even issued a statement acknowledging, "We wanted to create more buzz - create some hype . . . We felt the impact would be more extreme if we had one screening." Hilton, described as "a partner with the documentary", will attend the Tuesday screening. (The flak declined comment on whether or not Hilton has a financial interest in what's being advertised as her own takedown documentary.) To the people who care about the people whose activities are covered on Page Six, manipulating the programming of a serious film festival and robbing real movies by struggling artists of a little time in the spotlight in order to get more attention paid to your little home movie is the kind of thing you brag about.

Summer of ’78: “Heaven Can Wait”

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 16:00:00 GMT

Each Thursday this summer we’ll hop in the Screengrab time machine and jump back thirty years to see what was new and exciting at the neighborhood moviehouse this week in…The Summer of ’78!

Heaven Can Wait

Release Date: June 28, 1978

Cast: Warren Beatty, Julie Christie, Charles Grodin, James Mason, Jack Warden, Dyan Cannon

The Buzz: McCabe and Mrs. Miller together again – this time in a lighthearted romp!

Keywords: Sweat Suit, Poisoning, Quarterback, Afterlife, Saxophone, Super Bowl

The Plot: In this sort-of remake of the 1941 comedy Here Comes Mr. Jordan (although the opening credits cite the original play Heaven Can Wait, on which Jordan was also based), Warren Beatty stars as L.A. Rams backup quarterback Joe Pendleton, who is about to get his big break. Trainer Max Corkle (Jack Warden) informs Joe that he’ll be starting Sunday’s game against the Dallas Cowboys, which is good news, but then Joe is hit by a car while riding his bike, which isn’t so good. Joe finds himself in a way station en route to the afterlife, but it turns out that his handler (Buck Henry) has made a mistake: he whisked Joe out of his body immediately before the accident, but Joe would have survived and lived 50 more years. Mr. Jordan (James Mason) finds a replacement body for Joe – multi-millionaire Farnsworth, who has just been poisoned by his scheming wife (Dyan Cannon) and executive secretary (Charles Grodin). Joe agrees to take over Farnsworth’s body on a temporary basis so as to help environmental activist Betty Logan (Julie Christie), who has been protesting Farnsworth’s development plans. Joe falls for Betty and trains for the Super Bowl in Farnsworth’s body after convincing Corkle he’s the real deal. Since it’s a little much to expect an audience to root for a guy who looks like Warren Beatty to win over Julie Christie and win the Super Bowl while also being the richest man in the world, Farnsworth is finally killed by Grodin and Joe must scramble for yet another new body. Fortunately for him, the current Rams quarterback suffers a football fatality in mid-game and Joe takes over.

The Test of Time: You need only witness Christie’s tragic Greatest American Hero hairdo to see that Heaven Can Wait is dated; the ‘70s SoCal vibe is so thick you can cut it with a knife. Still, it does hold up better than its 2001 remake Down to Earth, in which Chris Rock takes over the body of a rich, old white guy to no discernable comic effect. It’s a surprisingly lightweight comedy given Beatty’s usual proclivities for injecting social significance into his projects, although there is one scene in which Farnsworth gives a disjointed lecture on corporate responsibility that anticipates the later political satire Bulworth. But there’s remarkably little chemistry between Beatty and Christie despite their history together; the romance is barely developed. The screwball aspect never really builds up a head of steam either, despite Grodin’s best efforts and a chuckle-worthy turn by Vincent Gardenia as a homicide detective obsessed with Farnsworth’s sudden disinterest in hats. So many plot gears are grinding that Heaven Can Wait always seems in a hurry to get onto the next scene, to the detriment of both comedy and character development. It’s breezy and enjoyable enough, but it’s less substantial than the cloud Mr. Jordan calls home.

Quotable Quote: “This isn't going to work. You're playing football with a bunch of butlers!”

2008 Equivalent: Football plus screwball romantic comedy = Leatherheads.

Previously on Summer of ’78: The Cheap Detective

Sarah Polley Bottles a Genie

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 19:00:00 GMT

We thought the awards season was finally over, but as so often happens here at the Screengrab, we forgot all about our fine neighbors to the north. Yes, there are Canadian movie awards, too. They’re called the Genies, and they were handed out last night in Toronto. The big winners were Away From Her and Eastern Promises, each snagging seven Genies.

Sarah Polley’s directorial debut captured the top prizes: Away From Her won for best picture, director, actress (Julie Christie), actor (Gordon Pinsent), supporting actress (Kristen Thomson) and adapted screenplay (Polley again). According to the Globe and Mail, Pinsent had high praise for both Polley and Christie. “Julie also left me with a gift of some sort. We had this way too short canoodling love story, and before leaving the bed, she'd tap me on the shoulder and say, 'Well done, Gordon.' Well, that's on the resume.”

David Cronenberg’s latest cleaned up in many of the remaining categories, including original screenplay, supporting actor (Armin Mueller-Stahl) and original score (Howard Shore), among others. Eastern Promises executive producer Robert Lantos took the opportunity to comment on a pending amendment to the Canadian Income Tax Act that could limit government funding of controversial material, saying “this screenplay is chockfull of powerful, frank, honest, original scenes. Just the kind that, if some barbarians have their way, are no longer going to be permissible in Canadian cinema.”

On a lighter note, host Sandra Oh confirmed what we’ve long suspected: that everyone in Canada knows each other. “David Cronenberg, I played your wife in the movie Last Night. And Molly Parker, I dated your brother-in-law for three years. Totally true.”

Screengrab Bets the Oscars: Phil's Picks

Phil Nugent — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Let's make sure we're on the same page on this: if you bet money, household chores, or bragging rights on anything you're about to read in this post, you are out of your mind, and while I pity you, I will not admit in a court of law to ever having met you. I got off the Oscar train when I was eight years old and Sissy Spacek didn't win for Carrie; to have continued our relationship beyond that point would have been madness, madness! I claim no inside knowledge or deep understanding of how they decide these things, and the only thing I could tell you about the winners of recent years is that Jennifer Hudson won last year for Dreamgirls. (How do I know this? I was talking to someone on the phone when it was announced, and the woman I was talking to happened to have her TV set on. When Hudson's name was called out, the woman screamed. It turned out that it was a joyous scream, but until she calmed down enough to tell me what the hell was going on, my best guess was that she had just noticed that her couch was on fire.) Anyway, the only thing more completely charmless than the Oscars may be the ugly spectacle of a writer bragging about how little he cares about what he's paid to weigh in on, so now that we've just established that my opinion in this area counts for about as much as hair styling tips from Paul Wolfowitz, here goes:

BEST SCREENPLAY:

Diablo Cody takes Best Original for Juno because the voters have actually heard her name — it's not like, having come across it once, you can get it out of your head without laser surgery — and Paul Thomas Anderson takes it for Best Adaptation for There Will Be Blood, because that's what you get when you make a great movie but you aren't going to get Best Picture and the Best Director prize already taken.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:

Apparently this is going to go to Cate Blanchett for I'm Not There, partly because Blanchett is also nominated for a Best Actress award that she is not getting to get and nominating her twice in one year without giving her anything would just seem silly. A good and sound bit of reasoning, and so I will of course reject it. And not only because I don't get the universally accepted logic by which this is agreed to be a "supporting" performance. Who the hell is she supposed to be supporting? The term ought to mean something other than "Big name actor in a role that is frequently off-screen." She's definitely the unquestioned star of her section of the movie, and while I didn't put a stop watch on it, I'll bet that she has as much screen time as any of the other Dylans. And if it turns out that Richard Gere, say, has a little more actual screen time, I'm not sure that the editor did him a favor by it. Until persuaded otherwise, I shall remain convinced that Blanchett's placement in this category is part of some conspiracy to screw over Amy Ryan, who wouldn't win anyway, because you only win an Oscar for playing a character as skanky as her Gone Baby Gone character if the Academy has already seen you in a bunch of glamour-puss roles and so knew for sure that you were acting. It's a moot point anyway, because I boldly predict that the winner will be Ruby Dee, because she has had a long and distinguished career, because she is 83 years old, because her late husband, Ossie Davis, is much missed, and because even though she didn't have much of a role in American Gangster, she did get to slap Denzel Washington, and he needed slapping.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:

Hal Holbrook has had a long and distinguished career and is now the same age as Ruby Dee, so if she doesn't win in her category, his chances automatically go up by 50%. But I really don't see it happening. Philip Seymour Hoffman gives the best performance in this category — he's a stone hoot in Charlie Wilson's War, which marks a rare example of an actor giving the Academy three different performances to select for nomination and the Academy choosing the right one. I'd think he had a real chance if it weren't for the fact that he already won not too long ago for Best Actor for Capote, which makes Javier Bardem the needier candidate. Bardem's trigger-happy, unstoppable psycho in a much-discussed hairstyle gave audiences all the fun of watching a Batman villain ply his trade, but it's in an officially certified, critically approved serious film with a literary pedigree, and for this he will be the recipient of much gratitude from voters whose wives dragged them to Atonement. He's already won more than a few awards for this performance, and he'll be throwing one more on the pile.

BEST ACTRESS:

Julie Christie in a lock. Next?

BEST ACTOR:

The conventional wisdom seems to be that this one belongs to Daniel Day-Lewis for There Will Be Blood. I think that George Clooney has a shot for Michael Clayton, which is the kind of hard-hitting, tough-minded, yet still glamorous-looking movie that Hollywood wishes and expects America to take to its bosom. (Clooney looks worn-down and dissipated in it, and a gorgeous-looking man looking as much like hell as he can is the most glamorous thing in the world.) Some would argue that Clooney himself gave the award to Day-Lewis at a recent Newsweek-sponsored gathering where he serenaded his shy British colleague by saying that all actors "bow low to this motherfucker." Indeed, the whole of the media has been going wild these last couple of months about Day-Lewis's position as the great screen actor of our time. I do not disagree. But I happen to be one of those suspicious types who, when I hear conservative pundits on Fox News go on and on about how fearsome a candidate Barack Obama would be against a Republican challenger in November, and how they think that any Republican would just chew Hillary Clinton up and spit her out, I can't help thinking, Okay, would they say that out loud if they really believed it? Hasn't anyone ever heard the one about wanting to be thrown in the brier patch? So, on this baseless idiot notion, I have just decided the media have been building Day-Lewis up in preparation for the shocking upset to come when Clooney takes the prize. Remember, you read it here first! Unless I'm wrong, in which case you can just forget that I said anything.

BEST DIRECTOR:

The Coens, for No Country for Old Men, in a bigger lock than Julie Christie.

BEST PICTURE:

The big pictures here are obviously No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood, and I think they're going to cancel each other out. Both are impressive, violent movies that actually alienate as many potential voters as they attract. For the same reasons that I think George Clooney is an attractive candidate for Best Actor, his movie, Michael Clayton, has the smell of a loser to it. So the contrarian, can't-we-all-just-get-alone vote will go to putting either Juno or Atonement over the top. After it won at the Golden Globes, I thought that Atonement, with its period romance and literary prestige, was a shoo-in, but since then I have shifted over to favoring Juno, partly because I got bored with my previous position, partly because Juno is this year's Little Miss Sunshine, and Little Miss Sunshine lost last year. That means that the partisans of indie-flavored whimsy will be harder-driving this year. Also, it came out later in the year than Little Miss Sunshine, and is lucky in its timing: I calculate that the backlash against the backlash against Juno is now on a rising wave and will crest in time for the awards Sunday. It will flatten out the next morning and the papers will be full of "What were we thinking" pieces for the next two weeks.

Sarah Polley: "When It Comes to Films...You Should Always Be Ready to Struggle."

Phil Nugent — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 20:00:00 GMT

At twenty-nine, Sarah Polley is in a funny position as the writer-director of Away from Her. She's a first-time filmmaker who, as a child actress, has been involved in moviemaking for most of her life, and an actress who, as a director, will probably get to see her lead actress, Julie Christie, take home an Academy Award for a performance that she guided her through, after dragging her kicking and screaming out of semi-retirement. Speaking to John Horn of the Los Angeles Times, Polley makes it clear that, if she has an edge over most new directors, it's because she's spent enough time on film sets to know just how little she knows. Polley, who calls herself "the least-prepared person who has ever been nominated for an Academy Award," says, "I've spent a lifetime working with disorganized first-time filmmakers who don't get the support of their crew because they feel they are wasting their time. And I knew how badly I needed their support. You know as an actor so acutely what destroys morale, what creates complaints, and that can be good and bad, because when you're directing you can become hyper-aware of that. I think that what a lot of first-time filmmakers don't realize is that they are the least experienced person on that set. Everybody else has been doing their job for years, so the whole act of playing the filmmaker, playing the person in command, is a charade. So the best you can do is work your ass off and admit what you don't know and ask for help when you need it."

One of the most striking scenes in Away from Her, a love story (based on Alice Munro's short story "The Bear Went Over the Mountain") about a long-married couple (Christie and Gordon Pinsent) who are torn apart by the wife's descent into Alzheimer's, comes when a young nurse named Monica (Nina Dobrev) suddenly interrupts the husband, chips in her two cents, and then slips gracefully back behind her mask of nonjudgemental concern. That was one of the few additions that Polley made to Munro's text. "That was my entrance into the subject matter," she says now. "That's sort of me, as someone half the age of these people, looking up to these people: not quite understanding how they got there, being in awe of them, being curious about them. There's a kind of presumption in making a film about people who have an experience that is so far beyond your own that I felt like I needed to make that my connection somehow." Polley may have already felt there was an element of presumption in her begging Munro to let her film the story, and trying to get Christie to appear in it. "It felt like the bane of my existence were these women who were older than me and I was chasing them. I had some Freudian analysis of it, to do with the fact that I lost my mother when I was young and I'd created a life for myself where I was chasing these maternal figures around the world, begging them to be a part of my life."

Our 11 Favorite Romantic Moments in the Movies, Part 1

Phil Nugent — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 21:30:00 GMT

First things first: before you all start sending in your complaints, take a look at the headline there. It's not "The Best Romantic Moments" or "The Most Classic Romantic Moments", and the American Film Institute was not consulted in the making of this list. These are our favorite romantic moments, chosen by us, the good people of the Screengrab. Romance is a very big part of what makes movies so central to our imaginative lives, and what strikes a person as deeply romantic is about as personal as responses get. Here are a few moments that got to us. Happy Valentine's Day.

OUT OF SIGHT (1998)

You have to figure that this movie would have a special place in the heart of any movie geek: the hero and heroine first detect a spark between them while talking about movies. The fact that they're having that conversation while holed up in the trunk of a car after one of them has taken the other hostage in the course of a prison break...well, let's call that the "meet cute", an essential part of any story that you look forward to telling the grandchildren someday. That scene lights the fuse that spreads out into a smooth hot glow in this scene, the one where George Clooney officially became a movie star and the repository of our best fantasy hopes on the big screen. As for Jennifer Lopez, well, let's just say that if she had retired from the screen to enter a nunnery or marry the Prince of Monaco immediately after shooting this movie, we'd still be driving ourselves crazy wondering what we'd all missed out on.

BLUE VELVET (1986)

Some believe that David Lynch's greatest movie is so deeply encased in something called "irony" that it is devoid of true feeling and honest emotion. These worthies must have been on an extended jujubee break in the lobby during the dance scene, with Kyle MacLachlan and Laura Dern trancing out to the unearthly sound of Julee Cruise performing the Lynch-Angelo Badalamenti song "Mysteries of Love." If anything, Lynch's Pop distancing makes it possible for the viewer to appreciate how ridiculous romantic love can seem to the observer, and also to recognize how little that matters in relation to the way it make you feel. Or as that great romantic poet Jerry Lee Lewis once put it, "I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny. You came along and you moved me, honey..."

TRULY, MADLY, DEEPLY (1991)

Juliet Stevenson was happy before the movie started, because she was with Alan Rickman, but then he went and died on her, and she became just miserable. It got so bad that Alan Rickman had to come back to comfort her, and she was happy again for a while, but then she got confused because she met another guy who, though perhaps not measuring up to Alan Rickman in many respects, did have the clear home-field advantage of still being alive, and so Alan Rickman, who is sensitive about these things, finally told her that he thought he'd better leave, because he was prepared to put what was best for her first, and it would probably be better for her to get back to having close relationships with living people. All in all, you should maybe just watch the clip: they explain it a lot better than we do.

MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO (1991)

Mike (River Phoenix) is a no-account hustler. He's a narcoleptic, unable even to control whether he stays conscious. He's got nobody, no home, and in all likelihood, not much future beyond the point at which the movie stops. But he is a romantic hero, because he loves unconditionally, asking only that the undeserving object of his love treat him with a little respect when he has to ask him a direct question: "What am I to you?"

McCABE & MRS. MILLER (1971)

Love does a job on people. Consider the case of John McCabe (Warren Beatty), frontier enterpeneur in partnership with the whore and brothel keeper Mrs. Miller (Julie Christie), who has the misfortune to be in love with a woman who he brought to the territory in order to profit from her selling herself to any client ambitious enough to get into bed with her. Believing that "If a man is fool enough to get into business with a woman, she ain't going to think much of him" and lamenting that all his association with Mrs. Miller has "cost me so far is money and pain," McCabe retreats to his room and, alone, rages at the woman he feels doesn't see him: “I got poetry in me. I do! I got poetry in me. But I ain’t gonna put it down on paper. I ain’t no educated man. I got sense enough not to try.” Delivered by one of the sexiest male movie stars of his generation, the speech may in fact be one of the most poetic of all depictions in movies of the ability of romantic frustration to make any of us feel pathetically inarticulate.

LA JETÉE (1962)

It is often said of people in love that the world only seems to exist, that things only seem to come to life, when they are with the people they love. In experimental filmmaker Chris Marker’s brilliant, haunting narrative masterpiece La Jetée, that notion is made visually explicit, in one of the most memorable sequences in all of film history. It’s a moment of delicate beauty that manages to be not only an iconic piece of filmmaking but a moment of breathtaking tenderness and romance, as well. The film (upon which Terry Gilliam’s 12 Monkeys was based) is in fact a series of still photographs, telling the story of a world devastated by nuclear warfare, and the attempt of a group of survivors to travel back in time searching for an answer, any answer, to their dire predicament. The man that is chosen as the time traveler, played by Davos Hanich, is haunted by a vague visual memory that will assume grave importance when he arrives in the present day, but through it all, the story is told only through a compelling voice-over narration and Marker’s exquisitely paced still photographs. Except for one moment. In the latter half of the film, Hanich gazes down at the face of the woman he loves (played by the beautiful Hélène Chatelain) and, almost imperceptibly at first, and then clearly like breaking through water, her face begins to move, and she blinks, in the movie’s only filmed sequence. It’s not only a tremendously effective piece of direction, but one of the most moving, romantic moments in cinema.

— Phil Nugent, Leonard Pierce

Click here for Part 2.

Screengrab Bets the Oscars: Paul's Picks

Paul Clark — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 17:00:00 GMT

All right, Screengrab regulars. You've no doubt taken a gander at the Oscar predictions from Leonard Pierce and Scott Von Doviak, which if nothing else have demonstrated that Screengrab's sense of humor remains intact. Now have a gander at — well, I was going to say the REAL predictions, but since you've already seen my nomination predictions, I can't in good conscience make such a grandiose claim. But Leonard has sent out a call, and I have no choice but to answer it.

Here goes nothing. . .

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Amy Ryan has been racking up critics' awards, but I think Hollywood insiders could be turned off by her unpleasant character. Saoirse Ronan might have had a shot with a bigger Atonement groundswell, but I don't see it happening now. Ruby Dee, SAG Award or no, should be happy just to be nominated. This brings us to Cate Blanchett as not-quite-Dylan, and Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton. This is Blanchett's to lose. . . or would be had she not won just three years ago. The performance — more than a stunt — is might impressive, but I think Swinton sneaks in for the upset here.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Bardem's still the one to beat here, friend-o. If anyone beats him, it'll be Grand Old Actor Hal Holbrook, although his chances would've been better had Into the Wild gotten a Best Picture nomination.

BEST ACTRESS: Leonard and Scott are all about Christie, but I think this is a closer race than they're predicting. Juno lives and dies by Ellen Page's performance, but the voters might find her too young to get behind. I'm going out on a limb and predicting Marion Cotillard as Edith Piaf in La Vie en Rose, though any of these three could take home the Oscar.

BEST ACTOR: You know, had Sweeney Todd made any money at the box office, this could have been Johnny Depp's year. But as it is, Daniel Day-Lewis is untouchable, and anyone who denies it is a bastard from a basket.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: Much as I'd love to see a Ratatouille upset, this race comes down the Hollywood veteran vs. the feisty newcomer. Good as the Michael Clayton screenplay is, this award almost always goes to the most show-offy screenplay, which this year is almost certainly Juno. Add in a Hollywood-friendly backstory and Diablo Cody's sudden ubiquity, and you've got an Oscar waiting to happen.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: There Will Be Blood is a masterpiece, but it's more of a directorial and acting showcase than a triumph of screenwriting. Atonement has all the ingredients of an Oscar-bait literary adaptation, but will have to make do with a few technical awards. Which means No Country for Old Men will bring the Coen brothers their second Oscar to date — or third, should the film win Best Editing.

BEST DIRECTOR: Of the nominated directors, the Coens are the Oscar veterans, and are well-liked in the industry. How else to explain an out-of-nowhere screenplay nomination for O Brother, Where Art Thou? back in the day. If anyone has a shot, it's Paul Thomas Anderson, but don't bet on it. Even if there's an upset for Best Picture, when it comes to this category, you can't stop what's coming.

BEST PICTURE: No Country is the favorite here, partly because nobody can seem to agree on what might upset it. I'm still predicting No Country to take this prize, but allow me to float my theory for a possible spoiler: Michael Clayton. Think about it — it's both a thriller and a serious drama, starring an immensely popular movie star and a supporting cast full of familiar and talented character actors. The film contains a lot of appeal for the actor-heavy voting body, especially when you consider that it earned three acting nominations this year while no other film received more than one. If the voting members of the Academy choose to forego the darkness of No Country for something more Hollywood, count on this (more so than Juno, which skews too young and feels too lightweight to be Best Picture material) to be their alternative of choice. Could be worse — at least it's not Crash.

Screengrab Bets The Oscars: Scott’s Picks

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 19:30:00 GMT

My colleague Mr. Leonard Pierce has thrown down the gauntlet, so now it’s up to me to pick it up and swat him about the face with it. Don’t get me wrong, Leonard is a good friend and well-meaning individual, but he is also a very crazy person with some very crazy Oscar picks. If you want to win your office pool, you need to stick with me.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:

Here we go by the double nomination rule. There is no chance Cate Blanchett will win for her lead role in Elizabeth II: Electric Boogaloo, so her performance as Bob Dylan…er, excuse me, Jude Quinn should bring home the gold this year.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:

There is no safer bet this year than Javier Bardem winning for his chilling turn in No Country for Old Men. Let’s just hope he remembers to thank his hairdresser.

BEST ACTRESS:

I’ve got to be honest, I don’t know anything about Away from Her or Julie Christie’s performance in it. I do know she’s already won a bunch of awards for it, however, and I don’t see any reason for that to change now.

BEST ACTOR:

Daniel Day-Lewis will drink George Clooney’s milkshake! He will drink it up!

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY:

Atonement is a prestige literary adaptation, but I’m not sensing any momentum (or Atonementum, if you will). There Will Be Blood is adapted from the first part of a book nobody has read. Cormac McCarthy is the big name here, and even if No Country for Old Men isn’t his most acclaimed work, there’s no denying it was adapted about as well as could be imagined; it’s my pick.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY:

The backlash to the Juno backlash will begin once Diablo Cody takes home this award, followed shortly by the backlash to the backlash backlash.

BEST DIRECTOR:

I don’t see any candidates strong enough to take this one away from the Coens. They look like the grand old men of cinema next to P.T. Anderson, and the remaining nominees are horses ranging from dark (Gilroy) to darkest (Reitman).

BEST PICTURE:

Don’t make me use the term Atonementum again. The big enchilada is going home with No Country for Old Men.

Screengrab Bets The Oscars: Leonard's Picks

Leonard Pierce — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 15:30:00 GMT

With the 80th annual Academy Awards less than two weeks away, and with the WGA strike apparently near its end (assuring that there actually will be an Oscar ceremony, and not just a handful of star-struck entertainment journalists trying to figure out who the TelePrompTer works), it's time for us here at the Screengrab to suck it up. It's time for us to do what every other film writer in the world, self-respecting or otherwise, is doing, and lay down our picks for the big to-do. Since I've always had a knack for making a jackass out of myself on the internet, I'll be the first: under the cut, you'll find my picks for who deserves to take home a statuette come Oscar night in eigh different categories, and who's going to walk away with the gold, regardless of merit. Over the next thirteen days, I'm hoping my Screengrab colleagues will join me in this endeavor, and then, come March, at least one of us can strut around talking about how smart we are.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:

There's a fine crowd of candidates this time around, and it's hard to pick a winner — there's no obvious failings just as there's no obvious standouts. All told, Cate Blanchett should win for her turn as Dylan in I'm Not There, but I'm predicting it will actually end up in the hands of Amy Ryan for the surprising Gone Baby Gone.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:

If, as I'm predicting, the Coen Brothers are shut out again this year, that means even more that Javier Bardem should win for his performance as Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men. However, given his spate of terrific roles towards the end of the year, I'm predicting it will go to Philip Seymour Hoffman for Charlie Wilson's War.

BEST ACTRESS:

Ellen Page surely deserves recognition for the breakout performance she delivered in Juno, and there's a slight possibility she'll get it. However, I think the Academy will go the other direction — since Hal Holbrook won't be getting an old-timer's award, Julie Christie will take home the gold for the little-seen Away from Her.

BEST ACTOR:

Although there's an off chance that George Clooney will take home the gold, I'm picking Daniel Day-Lewis' colossal performance in There Will Be Blood as both my should-win and will-win. Past performance and academy voting patterns be damned: it's a towering, masterful job of acting that carries the entire movie.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY:

Traditionally, the screenplay categories are the thanks-for-playing awards for the year's best movies, but which for whatever reason aren't going to get one of the big awards. As such, it's a dead heat between No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood, and my money's on Paul Thomas Anderson this year.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY:

If ever there are a sold-gold, lead-pipe lock in the history of solid-gold, lead-pipe locks, it's Diablo Cody winning Oscar gold this year for Juno. Bet the farm on it.

BEST DIRECTOR:

For filmmakers as talented and distinctive as the Coen Brothers never to have won an Oscar is a crime, but this isn't their Departed year. They'll be shut out again, though, leaving open the question of who gets it. P.T. Anderson seems obvious, but I'm gonna say this is a divisive year and Tony Gilroy takes it for Michael Clayton.

BEST PICTURE:

If Juno wins, the very balance of nature will be forever thrown askew. No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood are the most deserving, but are perceived as overly nihilistic and grim. Michael Clayton could be the winner by default, but I think it'll go to Atonement, the very definition of an Academy prestige picture.

Screen Actors' Guild Awards

Phil Nugent — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 15:00:00 GMT

The fourteenth annual Screen Actors Guild Awards were handed out Sunday night, in a brisk televised program that the striking Screen Writers' Guild gave its blessing to. This year's awards got perhaps a bit more attention than usual in this season, when the writers' strike turned the Golden Globes into a glorified press conference and threatens to do we know not what to the Academy Awards show. Dignified yet friendly, the evening struck a nice balance between this year's gutted-out version of the Golden Globes and the bedazzled vulgarity of the traditional Oscar blow-out, which helped to compensate for the fact that the list of chosen winners didn't have a lot of surprises. Among the movie nominees, There Will Be Blood's Daniel Day-Lewis took the Best Actor prize, which he dedicated to the late Heath Ledger. Julie Christie (Away from Her won for Best Actress, while awards for Best Supporting performance went to Javier Bardem (for No Country for Old Men) and Ruby Dee (for American Gangster). The SAG Awards also set aside awards for Best Cast Ensemble and Best Stunt Ensemble: these went to the fine actors who appeared together in No Country for Old Men and those motherfucking lunatics who risked life and limb while giving the finger to gravity itself in The Bourne Ultimatum, respectively. In the television category, the most notable awards were those slathered on the cast of The Sopranos, in its last year: the show won for Best Actor (James Gandalfini), Best Actress (Edie Falco), and Best Dramatic Cast Ensemble. The cast of The Office won for Best Cast in a comedy, but the awards for Best Actor and Actress in a comedy went to Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey, both of 30 Rock. Fey got off perhaps the most gracious one-liner of the evening when she credited Baldwin with her win, saying that if you spend enough time watching "Fred Astaire dance with a hatrack; after a while, you’re, like, ‘That hatrack is pretty good too.’ ”

Academy Awards Also-Rans

Phil Nugent — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 18:00:00 GMT

Now that the Academy Award nominations have been announced, we can all buckle up and wait to find out who the lucky non-winners are. Don't get us wrong: an Oscar win has a lot to recommend it. It bestows upon the recipient not just bragging rights but a new, higher pay ceiling and, if he doesn't screw it up the way Kevin Spacey did, a privileged glow and a long-term shot at juicier roles. But as anyone who's spent ten minutes reading about Cary Grant or Alfred Hitchcock knows, there's nothing that sets a major Hollywood figure apart like never having won an Oscar — that is, a real Oscar, and none of that special lifetime career achievement bullshit. Then, every time someone writes a profile of you, they can set aside a moment to tear their hair out over the fact that you never got the big prize — and everyone, including the people who'd never given it a second's thought before, will automatically do you the honor of agreeing that, yes, it is a shocking thing now that you mention it. In recent years, the sudden realization that Paul Newman and Martin Scorsese, to name two examples, had never won Oscars set off palpitations in the entertainment media, and cries went out urging the Academy to do the right thing, to make sure that they did not go to their graves un-Oscared, even if it meant honoring, by association, such lesser works as The Color of Money and The Departed. It's hard not to feel that, by finally joining what sometimes seems to be the majority, these men lost a little something that had previously set them apart from the likes of Red Buttons, Cliff Robertson, Roberto Begnini. One would think that Scorsese, with his ravenous enthusiasm for obscure and neglected filmmakers whose posthumous reputations glow with the luster one associates with misunderstood genius, would get this as much as anyone, but the lure of the little gold statuette is a powerful one. Let's take a moment to honor some of the people who will have to content themselves with asking Marty how it feels to hold one.

BEST ACTOR: Except for Johnny Depp and Viggo Mortensen, all the nominees here are already lost souls, with Oscars already stashed in the broom closet. Still, George Clooney and Tommy Lee Jones have only won for Best Supporting Actor in the past, so I'm sure it would feel a little special if they were able to corral one for being top banana. (Jones's nomination is also notable for being the only direct evidence included in the list of nominations that there was something this past year called "movies about the Iraq war.") Notable among the missing: Mark Ruffalo and Robert Downey, Jr. of Zodiac, two very fine performances that could just as easily have been shoehorned into the Supporting Actor category, but which had the misfortune to have been included in a movie that really took it on the chin for having been released early in the year. (The Academy has traditionally favored movies that were released late in the year and so were fresh in the minds of voters, a tradition that the development of home video has done surprisingly little to reverse.) The Academy did reach back to movies released in the first half of 2007 in order to bestow a Best Actress nomination on Julie Christie for her work in Away from Her, but Gordon Pinsent, who had to carry that picture, and whose performance was equally fine, was slighted, which may have something to do with the fact that no Academy voters have fond memories of having used a picture of him torn from the pages of Vogue to help them get through puberty thirty years ago. Similarly, Will Smith's performance in I Am Legend, a movie that he was obliged to keep alive single-handedly for long stretches, was in its way every bit as impressive a feat of movie-star acting as Clooney's glamorously world-weary turn in Michael Clayton, but he was in a movie about fighting rabid vampires, whereas Clooney was in one about reaching deep down into the pit of one's soul and learning to say no to the forces of evil, represented by a bunch of lawyers who could easily be taken for rabid vampires if you squint.

BEST ACTRESS: It's really no surprise that one of the most remarkable performances seen this year, that of Molly Shannon in Year of the Dog, isn't here: the movie was, again, released a very long time ago, it wasn't a hit, and in the ranks of people remembered for having been on Saturday Night Live, Shannon is probably closer to Chris Farley's side of the scale than Bill Murray's in the public mind. That could change if she gives many more performances like this one, but God knows where she's going to find the roles. It's a bit more surprising that Angelina Jolie's A Mighty Heart has sunk without a trace; it's not the best performance of the year, nor is it Jolie's best performance, but in a year that, as usual, was not overflowing with instances of women being given the chance to strut their stuff in big, juicy parts, you might think that Jolie's lending whatever muscle she has a movie star to telling the story of Daniel Pearl's widow would get her a token nod. Maybe all the factors that it had going against it — released in the summer, box-office failure, heavy subject matter, plus the mixed feelings that so many people seem to have about Jolie (is she a star, or a tabloid freak?) created a kind of perfect storm. Ashley Judd's wild-eyed, insane sexy mama in the off-Broadway sort-of-horror picture Bug was something to see. I don't know if the studio even bothered to send out screener copies to Academy voters, though if they were on the fence about it, I'd have chipped in for the cost of the postage, just so I could fantasize about how many of them would end up calling in priests to exorcise their DVD players.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Chris Cooper punted two good shots the Academy's way, first with his creepy performance as treasonous spook Robert Hanssen in Breach, then with an excellent demonstration of the character actor functioning as secret star in the big action flick The Kingdom, but the Academy passed on both. Steve Zahn was amazing and heartbreaking as a doomed P.O.W. in Werner Herzog's Rescue Dawn; he didn't get nominated either, but just last week he was amazing again, effortlessly channeling Robert Duvall as the young Gus McCrae in the Lonesome Dove prequel, so maybe the Emmys will make it up to him later. Jeff Daniels' straight-talking blind man in The Lookout deserved more attention than it got, and Clarence Williams III made a solid meal of about two (uncredited) scenes as Bumpy Johnson in American Gangster. (Ruby Dee did get nominated for Best Supporting Actress for playing Denzel Washington's mother in that movie. Her performance isn't nearly as rich as Williams', but she's certainly due for a little attention, and maybe the Academy figured, regarding her and Williams, that it was either one or the other.) The funny thing is that the category is padded out with people — Casey Affleck, Javier Bardem — who got enough screen time in their movies to qualify as lead actors. Bardem's Supporting Actor status feels like it's rigged to make it easier for him to claim the award, though I'd look for a late surge to form behind Hal Holbrook after people realize that he's not only nominated but actually still alive and capable of being cheered by a win.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: I don't get the universal consensus that Cate Blanchett was a supporting actress in I'm Not There. I guess that, again, it comes down to amount of screen time, but nobody else in that movie had any more screen time than she did; certainly nobody else put theirs to as good a use. I probably wouldn't mind so much except that, by shoving her into this category for her phenomenal performance, it feels as if the Academy is shafting Amy Ryan, nominated for a hair-raisingly skanky performance as a bad mother for the ages in Gone Baby Gone, and Tilda Swinton, whose completely reprehensible and yet completely understandable corporate villain gave Michael Clayton a surprising amount of its soul. A little tinkering might have left room for Marisa Tomei, who in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead made Philip Seymour Hoffman's faithless wife convincingly empty and slow-witted and shallow in her dissatisfaction with her existence, yet still made her seem very much worth screwing up your life over. This would have also been the place to honor little Nina Kervel-Bey, who made one of the year's most remarkable debuts in the French film Blame It on Fidel. She's actually the star of the movie, but from Tatum O'Neal to Abigail Breslin, the Academy has traditionally shoved little girls into the Best Supporting Actress category, as if "supporting" were synonymous with "short." Appearances to the contrary, Ellen Page turns twenty-one next month, so her nomination in the Best Actress category (for Juno) does not break this trend. It would have been nice, though, if Page's co-star Jennifer Garner could have been sandwiched in here. In The Kingdom, Garner is still trying to prove herself as an action heroine, with mixed results, but she gave the performance of her career so far in Juno — a carefully nuanced performance and a brave one, one that depended for its (and the movie's) full effectiveness on the actress's willingness to slowly open up to the audience and reveal what's on the inside of a woman who has the shell of a frosty yuppie robot.

BEST DIRECTOR: The fun in this category has usually been in thinking about how it feels to be the one director who wasn't nominated even though his movie was nominated as Best Picture. However he may laugh it off in public, you know that the message he thinks he's getting is, "And last but not least, nominated for Best Picture in spite of having been directed by..." This year it is the director of Atonement, the esteemed young filmmaker what's-his-name, who has to wonder if everybody thinks the actors built the sets while he was in the bathroom and came up with their blocking while he was at lunch. Suffice to say that Julian Schnabel, the director of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, fills out the category just fine, though it might be even finer if, say, Jason Reitman had somehow been overlooked in favor of Zodiac's David Fincher. Another surprisingly plausible contender might have been Ben Affleck, who sure did a hell of a lot better job behind the camera on Gone Baby Gone than he's ever done in front of it. Affleck may not have the face of a director — that's a compliment, Ben — but I'm in favor of anything that encourages him to stay back there.

Paul Clark Predicts the Oscar Nominees

Paul Clark — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 19:00:00 GMT

"Nobody knows anything." Screenwriter William Goldman immortalized that phrase a few decades ago, and it's as true this Oscar season as it's always been. Perhaps even more so — not only are many Oscar races still wide-open, but the status of the ceremony itself is up in the air. But for now the show is still happening, which means the nominations are set to be announced tomorrow morning. Here are my hasty, shot-in-the-dark predictions in the top six categories:

Best Picture:
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
Into the Wild
Juno
Michael Clayton
No Country for Old Men

I think we can all agree that No Country is in, right? Beyond that, it's something of a crap shoot. Michael Clayton is the kind of classy star vehicle the Academy usually responds to, and audience favorite Juno has become too big a word of mouth phenomenon to ignore. At one point, Atonement was looking like a front-runner for the win, but its Oscar buzz has subsided. On the other side of the coin, There Will Be Blood may be too bleak for the voters to embrace — it would have a better chance were it the year's undisputed critical champ, but with No Country in the mix, PTA's masterpiece could be shut out here. Instead, I'm predicting The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, an acclaimed true-life story that's only gaining momentum, and Into the Wild, the year's most Oscar-baity film directed by a respected actor, which is something that tends to go over well with the actor-filled Academy membership.

Best Actor:
George Clooney, Michael Clayton
Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood
Johnny Depp, Sweeney Todd
Emile Hirsch, Into the Wild
Viggo Mortensen, Eastern Promises

Even if the Academy decides to overlook There Will Be Blood, they won't be able to deny the awesomeness of Day-Lewis' blazing performance as Plainview. Likewise, Clooney and Depp have recently become Academy favorites, and I dare say that had Sweeney Todd done more business Depp would've been the one to beat here. Hirsch is a bit iffier here given his age, but he carries Into the Wild on his capable shoulders, and if the film gets nominated I'm guessing he will be too. With the recent groundswell for The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, I think Matthieu Amalric should be seen as a contender here, although not nearly as much as if he was an American star. Instead, I'm going with Mortensen — Eastern Promises didn't exactly set the world on fire, but his performance was the highlight, and I think voters will take the opportunity to honor him not only for this role but also for his overlooked turns in A History of Violence and the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Best Actress:
Amy Adams, Enchanted
Julie Christie, Away From Her
Marion Cotillard, La Vie en Rose
Angelina Jolie, A Mighty Heart
Ellen Page, Juno

Throughout this awards season, three names kept popping up in this rare — Christie, Cotillard, and Page. So it's pretty safe to assume they'll make it in. That leaves us two spots in a relatively weak year for buzzed-about performances (sadly, Black Book's Carice Van Houten has no traction whatsoever). With very little competition, Jolie should make the cut — the film didn't make much of a dent, but her stardom has kept her in the race. The final spot is anyone's guess. High-profile star turns (Jodie Foster in The Brave One, Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth: The Golden Age) have flopped at the box office, while respected performers in independent films (notably Laura Linney in The Savages) have been lost in the year-end shuffle. That leaves Amy Adams in Enchanted, a star-making performance by a previous nominee in a hit movie that's still fresh in people's minds.

Best Director:
Paul Thomas Anderson, There Will Be Blood
Joel and Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men
Tony Gilroy, Michael Clayton
Sean Penn, Into the Wild
Julian Schnabel, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

At this point, Best Director is the Coens' to lose. Even if someone else takes home Best Picture, I think it's still their year in this category. I also think the Directors Branch will be impressed by Sean Penn's metamorphosis into serious filmmaker, as well as Schnabel's unconventional, inspired filmmaking choices in Diving Bell. For this year's semi-obligatory non-Best Picture-nominated director, I'm predicting Anderson, a respected maverick whose filmmaking chops in There Will Be Blood are undeniable even if the film itself is too much for some audiences. Of the two remaining Best Picture nominees, I think Gilroy has the edge over Juno's Jason Reitman for two reasons: (1) crowd-pleasing comedies tend to get shut out of this category, and (2) Gilroy is a veteran screenwriter makes an impressive directorial debut. But don't be surprised if another "lone director" — say, Sidney Lumet for Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, or Tim Burton for Sweeney Todd — gets the nod instead.

Best Supporting Actor:
Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Charlie Wilson's War
Hal Holbrook, Into the Wild
Tommy Lee Jones, No Country for Old Men
Tom Wilkinson, Michael Clayton

In a year without Bardem, this race might have come down to Grand Old Actor Holbrook vs. veteran character actor Wilkinson. But Bardem casts a long shadow over this category, with Chigurh the creepiest villain in an Oscar-feted film since Hannibal Lecter. Charlie Wilson's War wasn't the Oscar juggernaut that it was predicted to be, but I still think Hoffman's scene-stealing turn will make it in. I think this year's biggest surprise will be the absence of Casey Affleck's performance in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Affleck's the only serious competition Bardem has had among the precursor awards, but Jesse James was a box-office flop and Affleck's performance could give voters the willies. Max Von Sydow's affecting turn in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly might have had a chance here — as a means of honoring one of the world's most esteemed actors and, by extension, his recently-departed longtime collaborator Ingmar Bergman — except that he might not have enough screentime to be a contender. Instead, I'm giving the edge to Jones, an Academy favorite who came roaring back this year to give two acclaimed performances after a decade's worth of commercial crap.

Best Supporting Actress:
Cate Blanchett, I'm Not There
Catherine Keener, Into the Wild
Kelly MacDonald, No Country for Old Men
Amy Ryan, Gone Baby Gone
Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton

Once again, three names keep popping up in this category: Blanchett, Ryan, and Swinton. I think they'll all get nominated, though who will win remains to be seen (early shot-in-the-dark prediction: a Swinton upset). The other two spots are less certain. But consider that, more than any other category, the Best Supporting Actress nominees are largely composed of performers who starred opposite other Oscar nominees. In this respect, I think contenders such as Ruby Dee in American Gangster, Marisa Tomei in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, and especially Saoirse Ronan in Atonement, are at a disadvantage here. Instead, I'm predicting the fourth spot to go to Catherine Keener, getting her third nomination in this category for her moving turn in Into the Wild. The final slot comes down to Jennifer Garner in Juno and Kelly MacDonald in No Country for Old Men. Despite Garner's greater name recognition, I'm giving the edge to MacDonald, both for No Country's frontrunner status and for playing one of Oscar's favorite characters, the supportive, long-suffering wife. But honestly, it could go either way.

Watch for the Oscar nominations tomorrow, January 22. And remember, nobody knows anything.

Globes Without Glitter

Phil Nugent — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 18:43:00 GMT

The 65th annual Golden Globes were announced last night, getting the awards season off to a wobbly start. After much speculation about whether No Country for Old Men or There Will Be Blood might be the front runner as the Oscar race heats up, the Golden Globe for Best Drama went to the Ian McEwan adaptation Atonement, a sturdy vote for respectable literary source material, period romance, and clipped accents in these confusing times. (Another perceived front-runner competition that's been heating up movie message boards, the one between Julie Christie in and Marion Cotillard in Ma Vie en Rose, was effectively defused in this round by the Globes' method of breaking up its movie categories into as many different sub-categories as possible: Christie won the award for Best Actress in a Drama, Cotillard won for Best Actress in a Musical or Comedy.) Daniel Day-Lewis did won for Best Actor in a Drama for his work in There Will Be Blood, while No Country took home prizes for Best Supporting Actor (Javier Bardem) and for its Coen brothers screenplay. The Best Director award went to Julian Schabel for The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, which also won for Best Foreign Language Film. Rounding out the big winners were Sweeney Todd (Best Musical or Comedy) and its star, Johnny Depp (Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy), Cate Blanchett (Best Supporting Actress for I'm Not There), and Ratatouille (Best Animated Feature Film).

Of course, as the strike by the Writers' Guild of America drags on into its third month, the big question was whether there would be any awards ceremony or not. NBC, which had the rights to this year's presentation, grimly held to its plans to broadcast something, but it wasn't until last Friday that it was announced that union picketers would not show up to protest the event. By that time, most celebrities who might otherwise have attended had made other plans. The awards were given out, but in a press-conference-style format presided over by announcers from entertainment-news shows such as and Inside Edition. The winners will have news of their glad tidings duly Incorporated into the ads for those movies that are still playing, but the general feeling is that, compared to the impact of previous years' awards ceremonies, the whole thing was a wash. Daniel Battsek, president of Miramax Films, laments that "you can’t replace having the clips and the people who made the films on television. It’s impossible to predict the impact of the lack of a full-on ceremony. But we are all in the same boat. No one will get an advantage.”