The Personals (1999)

1 Nomination, 1 Win

Win: Best Documentary, Short Subjects

The Personals is a sweet, heartfelt documentary short presenting a group of senior-citizens on the Lower East Side of New York who are putting on a play about both their current quest for love and their past stories of love and relationships. The film simultaneously, and a bit ingeniously, documents the development of the play and the stories of each individual.

What is initially jarring but ultimately most satisfying about The Personals is the frankness with which each individual talks about both their past history and present loneliness. We as a society de-sexualize senior citizens, forgetting that they once felt (and often still feel) the same desires for love, romance, and sex that younger people feel. Hearing one older woman talk about the loneliness and lack of fulfillment she felt throughout her long marriage, a very old man talk about the effectiveness of his sexual organs, and numerous similar discussions is not the usual fare of films; indeed, sexuality in older people is almost always played for laughs. The instinctive reaction to such conversations quickly gives way to a deep sympathy and understanding due to the director's wonderful talent for gaining great honesty and trust in her subjects. Director Keiko Ibi won the Academy Award for Best Documentary, Short Subjects for director Keiko Ibi, and though the film is relatively light-hearded and void of the heavy-handed subject matter of most Academy Award winners in this category, it is her success in soliciting such compelling honesty out of her subjects that no doubt was most responsible for her Academy Award.

I didn't think I would care too much for The Personals, but it only took the introductions of a few subjects for my opinion to change. Keiko Ibi has crafted a sincere, lovely short film out of a subject that nearly any other filmmaker would have turned into a joke, and for this she deserves immense credit. The Personals can be viewed online, and it is very much worth viewing. It can be viewed at: http://www.snagfilms.com/films/title/the_personals1/

Remaining: 3157 films, 877 Oscars, 5437 nominations

The Big House (1930)

4 Nominations, 2 Wins

Win: Best Sound, Recording - Douglas Shearer
Win: Best Writing, Achievement - Frances Marion
Nomination: Best Picture
Nomination: Best Actor in a Leading Role - Wallace Beery

The Big House has been sitting on my DVR since I recorded it on February 3rd during Turner Classic Movies's "31 Days of Oscar," and the description sounded so boring and generic that I repeatedly passed it over in favor of other recordings. It sounded like every other prison film ever made, and I could never muster up the energy to watch it. But when I only had an hour and a half to watch a movie last night (The Big House clocks in at 87 minutes), I reluctantly gave it a chance.

Starring Chester Morris, Wallace Beery, Lewis Stone, and Robert Montgomery, the film is the story of a man (Montgomery) sent to jail for vehicular manslaughter as a result of drunken driving who must acclimate to prison life. Beery plays Butch, the hardened criminal who is the alpha dog of the prison, and he gives an explosive performance. Beery had been unceremoniously dumped from Hollywood after the transition to sound, and The Big House marked his comeback; he would soon be one of Hollywood's biggest stars. He is terrifying as Butch, a hulking presence that perfectly contrasts with Montgomery's fearful meekness. He doesn't have the typical look of a leading man, but his presence puts him in a class by himself.

The screenplay gets a bit schmaltzy at times, and there is the obligatory tacked-on love story. Despite this, The Big House defined much of what would become the prison genre, and certain tropes created in the film can be seen in films that were released decades later. The film is wildly ahead of its time, and displays almost none of the limitations that early sound filmmakers had to live with. The film's climactic prison break sequence is tense and exciting, a doubtless was the reason The Big House won the first Academy Award for sound.

Though much of The Big House feels inconsequential and at times little more than a pro-Prohibition advertisement, it is an exciting film with crackling dialogue, strong set design, and an outstanding performance by Wallace Beery.

Remaining: 3158 films, 878 Oscars, 5437 nominations

Paris 36 (2008)

1 Nomination, 0 Wins

Nomination: Best Song - "Loin de Paname" by Reinhardt Wagner and Frank Thomas

It was entirely coincidental that I watched 42nd Street only a few days before watching Paris 36, but it was fortuitous timing, as 42nd Street is the ancestor of Paris 36 (and hundreds of other films). Directed by the French director Christophe Barratier, the film depicts the backstage goings-on of the Chansonia, an old Parisian music hall. The film is set to the backdrop of political unrest in the years preceding World War II, but this all matters little, as the real focus is on what is happening inside the Chansonia, not outside.

Paris 36 succeeds in spite of a thin plot, mostly due to the performances. Gerard Jugnot, one of the most recognizable faces in modern French cinema, carries the film. Jugnot has the kind of face that artists live for the opportunity to paint, full of expressiveness and mischievousness. Nora Arnezeder gives what very well might be (and should be) were breakout role as the young starlet who saves the show. Arnezeder has the look and talent to be France's next international star.

The film's music is wonderful, a requirement for any successful backstage musical. The songs, including the Academy Award nominated "Loin de Paname" are sweetly evocative of 1930's Paris, and the film even includes a brief tribute to Busby Berkeley with a geometric overhead dance shot. "Loin de Paname" lost to "The Weary Kind" from Crazy Heart, two completely different types of songs (though my vote would have gone to "The Weary Kind").

None of the plotlines add up to much, much like 42nd Street, the but the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. The film is a fun little piece with great music and charismatic performances, and is a worthy contribution to the genre of the backstage musical.

Remaining: 3159 films, 880 Oscars, 5441 nominations

Lonelyhearts (1958)

1 Nomination, 0 Wins

Nomination: Best Supporting Actress- Maureen Stapleton

Hollywood has a long and ignominious history of taking wonderful books and adapting them into unimpressive films. What I have found to be the most frequent cause of this is that the filmmakers will adapt a general plot of the film, but then leave out the book's themes, details, and characterization, all of which are essential to the novel's success. Sometimes this is due to studio meddling, and other times due to a lack of understanding by the filmmakers, but the result is always the same: the film is a shell of what the book was. Though filmmakers should be free to make the work a unique artistic statement and not a mere transcription of a book, it is more often than not to the film's detriment when these components are not brought to the screen along with the plot.

Lonelyhearts is an adaptation of Nathanael West's 1933 novel Miss Lonelyhearts and the subsequent play by Howard Teichmann, directed by the great Broadway director Vincent J. Donehue and adapted for the screen by Dore Schary. The film stars Montgomery Clift as a journalist looking for a job for a newspaper who is assigned the advice column "Miss Lonelyhearts." Only a few moments into the film, what is immediately evident is that the film is a brooding noir film, as opposed to the satirical dark comedy of the novel. This tone does not suit the film well; the filmmakers strip all of the moral complexity from the narrative and present it as a much simpler story. Simplification is necessary when adapting a novel into a two hour film, but when the plot is stripped of all of its complexities, the character's actions make little sense and the whole film comes across as trite.

Maureen Stapleton received the film's sole nomination for Best Supporting Actress for playing Fay Doyle, one of the readers of "Miss Lonelyhearts" who the columnist meets. Her role is brief, but she packs more depth into her few moments than is present anywhere else in the film. She is equal parts attractive and repulsive, and is the only member of the cast or crew who brings any nuance to the film. Her nomination was well deserved, though her role was quite brief and thus it is easy to see why she was not given the trophy.

Perhaps Lonelyhearts suffered due to the studio's unwillingness to portray the many dark themes present in the novel; if this is the case, the film should not have been made in the first place. Instead, we are presented with a watered down, unimportant little film that is noteworthy only for being an adaptation of a brilliant novel and a nice turn by Maureen Stapleton.

Remaining: 3160 films, 880 Oscars, 5442 nominations

42nd Street (1933)

2 Nominations, 0 Wins

Five days before 42nd Street premiered in New York, Franklin Roosevelt was first sworn in as president. The next day, Roosevelt closed all United States banks and froze all financial transactions, a bank holiday that would last for eight days. The day of the film's premiere, March 9th, 1933, Congress began its first 100 days of enacting the New Deal. This was the world that audiences were living in when 42nd Street was released. Viewed through a modern context, the film seems short on plot and character and unremarkable for all but the final 20 minutes. When viewed through the lens of early 1932, it is easy to see why 42nd Street was such a beloved film.

42nd Street is the granddaddy of backstage musicals. A Broadway company works to put on Pretty Lady, a musical. Just before the opening light, the company's female lead (Bebe Daniels) sprains our ankle, and the film's young heroine (Ruby Keeler in her breakout role) must fill in to replace her. A few subplots weave through the film, but this is the crux of the story. One of the difficulties of evaluating older films is that what has often become formulaic was once brand new, and this is the case with 42nd Street. The conventions of the backstage musical - the wide-eyed newcomer, the cynical older performers, the tyrannical director - all were brand new when 42nd Street debuted. What seems conventional now was in no way conventional then; viewing the film with this in mind, it is impossible not to appreciate 42nd Street.

The film was released only six years after the first true musical, The Jazz Singer, and it is almost unbelievable how much the filmmakers (directors Lloyd Bacon and Busby Berkeley) were able to do so soon after the advent of the genre. Much has been made of Busby Berkeley's bird's eye choreography, and this choreography is on stunning, albeit brief, display here. Berkeley was a true cinematic pioneer, and the beautiful geometric shapes he creates out of his dancers (it's not a surprising realization that he was nearly the same age as M.C. Escher) are some of the most recognizable images in cinematic history. What is overlooked is how talented a choreographer Berkeley was in non-overhead shots. The film's final song, Forty-Second Street, is perhaps even more impressive than the overhead choreography. The camera flies around the stage, capturing various dance routines depicting life on forty-second street. In an era where the camera was still largely confined to a single spot, Bacon and Berkeley create a sense of freedom and fluidity.

Though the lack of character development in the script doesn't allow for much in the way of "serious acting," the film does feature nice performances by a number of performers, particularly Ruby Keeler, Bebe Daniels, Guy Kibbee, and a young Ginger Rogers (playing the wonderfully and innuendo-laden named Anytime Annie). No matter what else is successful, an ensemble film without a strong cast will never succeed. The cast is a successful mix of actors who were all relatively new to "talkies" and are clearly working hard to prove themselves.

The first years of sound films ran concurrently with the Great Depression, and thus the catalog of early talkies is filled with escapist films of one kind or another. 42nd Street is one of the most important and lasting of any of these films, helping to launch the careers of many young stars (Ginger Rogers, Ruby Keeler, Dick Powell) and to create the sub-genre of the backstage musical. Though it is definitely dated and feels entirely conventional, it was the film that created most of these conventions, and is one of the most historically significant films of its era.

Remaining: 3161 films, 880 Oscars, 5443 nominations

Adam Clayton Powell (1989)

1 Nomination, 0 Wins

Despite my deep interest in American political history, I likely never would have watched Adam Clayton Powell if not for the Every Oscar Ever project. With the development of the History Channel, A&E, PBS's American Experience, and the many other biography series on television, the bio-doc just isn't as compelling as it used to be. When watching old documentaries for the Every Oscar Ever project, I am often struck by just how much the documentary has changed; a film like Adam Clayton Powell would never be able to find feature film distribution in the modern era, since there are just too many films like it on television. Adam Clayton Powell presents the life of its subject in a linear, straightforward manner, cutting between clips and interviews with his peers, and though the film offers nothing unique that would separate it from the multitude of bio-docs available on television, the filmmaker does a credible job of presenting his subject.

Adam Clayton Powell was one of the most important public figures of mid-20th century African American life, and was the most prominent African-American political figure prior to the arrival of the civil rights movement. Elected New York's first African-American Congressman, Powell took Washington by storm, successfully challenging many of the informal segregationist policies in the Capitol. He was a living legend in his Congressional district in Harlem and amongst African-Americans nationwide, and would eventually become Chairman of the House Education & Labor Committee, where he would shepherd numerous revolutionary social programs through the committee, including Medicaid, the Elementary and Secondary Education Act (the original iteration of No Child Left Behind), equal pay for women, and many other initiatives.

As the film tells this part of Powell's life, not much differentiates it from your average bio-doc. The footage of a young Powell speaking is electrifying, and it's plainly obvious why he was such a compelling figure. He had the passion and power of a preacher, which he was, but also the easy nature and personal charm of a politician. Powell led a very interesting life, and the filmmakers tell it in a straightforward manner. The film gets more interesting when Powell's downfall begins. Powell struggled to adapt when his influence began to fall as a new generation of African-American leaders came to the scene, and word of his womanizing, the fallout of a legal case in New York, and his lifestyle in his adopted home of the Bahamas made him one of the country's most controversial political figures. This part of Powell's life is so colorful and unique that the film can't help but be interesting, and the filmmakers commendably present both Powell supporters and detractors, such that it's not clear whether Powell was indeed the victim of a protracted smear campaign by his enemies or the victim of his own excesses.

While I enjoyed learning more about Adam Clayton Powell, an individual I knew embarrassingly little about, the film succeeds mostly due to Powell himself and not to the work of the filmmakers. There is nothing wrong with the filmmaking, and the filmmakers successfully handle the controversies of Powell's life and present the film in a straightforward manner. Viewed through the lens of the modern day, Adam Clayton Powell and bio-docs of the past just do not stand the test of time.

Remaining: 3162 films, 880 Oscars, 5445 nominations

Unstoppable (2010)

1 Nomination, 0 Wins

Little can be better for an actor's career than becoming a director's muse. What would the careers of Marlene Dietrich have been without Josef von Sternberg, Robert De Niro without Martin Scorsese, or Johnny Depp without Tim Burton. Denzel Washington, indisputably one of his generation's finest actors, has become the muse of director Tony Scott. Since they first worked together in Crimson Tide (1995), the two have worked together on four additional films. In fact, Washington has appeared in four of Scott's most recent five films, and perhaps would have appeared in all five if not for the unlikelihood of replacing Keira Knightley in Domino (2005). Though Crimson Tide is a great flick, the three collaborations that followed were all middling films that are unworthy of Washington's talent. I expected Unstoppable to follow in this dubious tradition, and though it is their best collaboration since Crimson Tide, it lacks anything particularly unique or noteworthy. Unstoppable is a mildly entertaining action film that does a few things right, but fails to rise above the rest of the action crop and is thus forgettable.

Unstoppable is a simple story, and the filmmakers deserve credit for not overcomplicating it. The plotting is tight, but the script faces two major shortcomings. The first is that the writers, to their credit, attempted to create emotional drama as well as physical drama by having the two men discuss the challenges they are currently facing in their lives, in order to raise the stakes when they put their lives at risk. The actors aren't given much to work with, however, as each is given a standard backstory that any young screenwriter would almost certainly use. The emotional development feels tacked on and not germane to the story. The far greater problem with the script comes from the very subject of the film: trains. Trains, by definition, must run on a predetermined route, and thus the audience knows that at any given time, only two things can happen: either the train continues to run on the track, or it derails and crashes almost immediately. Unstoppable has been compared to Speed for obvious reasons, but with Speed there were limitless possibilities as to what could happen to the bus. While the screenwriters do a credible job in creating scenarios to move the story along, there just isn't much suspense or anything to surprise the audience.

Though Washington has a penchant for doing far too many mediocre movies, unlike some of his peers in his generation who do the same (I'm looking at you Nicolas Cage and John Travolta), he never mails in the performance. While the film, like many others in his filmography, seems to be nothing more than a payday for Washington, he always seems to be doing his best to earn his payday, which can't be said for all actors. His legendary intensity is present throughout Unstoppable, and he does his best to flesh out a character that is flat and possesses an all too familiar backstory.

Chris Pine also turns in a solid performance. He holds his own against Washington's intensity, a task that has made countless actors wither away. Pine is developing into a creditable action star, and I'm hopeful for the future of his career.

The film's sole Oscar nomination came for Best Achievement in Sound Editing (Mark P. Stoeckinger). Like most films nominated throughout the years in the sound categories, the film is full of loud, explosive, crashing noises. I haven't yet learned how to judge a film for sound editing, but to my untrained ears Stoeckinger did solid work in creating what must have been a sonically difficult film to edit. The film lost to Inception (Richard King), which is no surprise since a far greater number of Academy members almost certainly saw Inception than saw Unstoppable.

The quick pacing and solid performances by the lead actors made the film watchable, though I have a hunch that within a few weeks I will have completely forgotten that I ever watched Unstoppable.

Remaining: 3163 films, 880 Oscars, 5446 nominations