L.A. Confidential (1997)

L.A. Confidential, a nominee for Best Picture of 1997, is somewhat of an homage to those classic films of the 1970s like Chinatown. If it isn't quite up to the standard of that much more heralded earlier film, that doesn't mean that L.A. Confidential isn't without its own qualities that recommend it. I can still recall walking out of the theater that year talking about how much I had enjoyed this film; it was one of my favorites that year. Too bad it was up against the monster that was Titanic.

I'm not sure that a film like this can be summarized easily. It's about police corruption and the mob and the ways that money can influence those in power. It's about the attempts by two young police officers (both played by Australians, Russell Crowe and Guy Pearce) to maintain a sense of integrity in the face of overwhelming pressure. It links murders and call girls and freeway development projects. On that level, it is almost as complex a movie as Chinatown. (Okay, I suppose such comparisons are inevitable since both films are set in the earlier glory days of Los Angeles, so I'll try to stop now.)

The cast is great overall. Crowe and Pearce were making their first appearances in a major American film. Crowe has, of course, gone on to much success here in the U.S., and you can see why in the tenacity and stoicism that he brings to his character of Bud White. Pearce has a tougher role; his Ed Exley must serve as a moral compass for the filmgoer. We expect Exley to do what is right at all times, and when he fails us, it is as disheartening a moment as you are likely to find in a movie where corruption is a standard for one's behavior. This is the same actor who played a drag queen so effectively in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, but he's reconstituted himself in this part to demonstrate almost the opposite end of the feminine-masculine scale.

There are other great performers here as well. Kevin Spacey plays a cop who has fallen a bit too in love with his celebrity status. Danny DeVito is perfectly cast as the sleazy journalist who finds a great deal of pleasure (and profit) in exposing or even creating scandals involving Hollywood stars. James Cromwell is quite stern as the police captain who is willing to use brutality against organized crime just as long as he doesn't necessarily have to get his hands dirty himself. And Kim Basinger is good here as a woman made to look like Veronica Lake as a part of a call girl ring that fulfills men's fantasies to sleep with a star (or, perhaps, someone who just looks like a star). I still think Gloria Stuart should have won Best Supporting Actress for her role in Titanic (or perhaps Julianne Moore, who was terrific in Boogie Nights, or Joan Cusack, so funny in In & Out) that year, but Basinger is well cast and shows a depth to her performance that she had not demonstrated before.

The key to the movie's overall success is, of course, the award-winning script by Brian Helgeland and Curtis Hanson, using a James Ellroy novel as source material. It has a structure that weaves together multiple layers and dozens of characters, yet it always manages to maintain its tension and intrigue. I still am not sure that I completely accept the very last scene of the film--you'll know what I mean when you watch it yourself--but the rest stands with some of the best work put on film in the past quarter of a century.

The Full Monty (1997)

A surprise nominee for Best Picture of 1997, The Full Monty relates the story of how six unemployed steel workers in Sheffield turn themselves into a unlikely male strip act. This is one of those films that seemingly comes from nowhere to capture everyone's attention, and the Academy saw fit to reward that success with a nomination for Best Picture. I'm not sure that the film itself deserves such recognition, but it is certainly an entertaining film and it has contributed its title phrase to the general lexicon.

All of the actors are good here, particularly Robert Carlyle as Gaz, the "founder" of the act. Gaz gets inspired by seeing the number of women who show up one night to see a Chippendales-style show at one of the local bars. I guess it's the next logical step to think that you too could be a stripper, especially since you have no other job prospects and your ex-wife is about to take away your custody rights to your only son. Not to mention that you're a bit scrawny and a little haggard-looking. Yet Gaz has some pretty remarkable faith in his abilities, and Carlyle as an actor is light years away here from his role as Begbie in Trainspotting.

He is ably supported by Mark Addy as the member who feels his weight will be a problem (he gets most of the best lines), Tom Wilkinson as the gnome-loving choreographer who has yet to reveal to his wife that he's lost his job, and the rest of the dance-challenged troupe. The scene where they start to dance while listening to Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff" is one almost everyone will remember because it does show just how much they bond as a group, how much they are in sync with each other. I was also intrigued by how readily the rest of the guys accept the romance between Lomper and Guy; it seems that everything is all right with them so long as the project moves forward. (As an aside, the scene where they are "revealed" as a couple to the rest of the guys is the first time I had ever heard the expression "queer as folk.")

The title refers, of course, to full nudity, the promise of which manages to fill the bar on the night of the group's performance. To get to that night, there are some distractions, of course, but none of them too serious to keep this act from happening. Despite the overarching theme of chronic unemployment, the film manages to maintain a light-hearted tone, even when grappling with a subject as serious as suicide. It's just all a bit of fun, isn't it? Again, I'm not certain that this was truly one of the five best movies that year, but you certainly can't quarrel with the feeling you have at the end of this rousing little film from England.