Air Force (1943)

 

Air Force is a solid piece of World War II era propaganda made by Hollywood. It’s filmmaking designed to make the audience support our wartime efforts and to revile, in this case, the Japanese enemy. The battle sequences are staged very effectively, and they often demonstrate the kind of American might that was having success at destroying Japanese warships. Much of the film follows the crew of the “Mary-Ann,” a B-17 bomber plane that arrives in Hawaii just after the attack on Pearl Harbor, then travels to Wake Island just after it has been attacked, and journeys to the Philippines just after another attack – perhaps you can detect a trend here. They always seem to be flying into a dangerous situation despite being warned against landing or flying out of an area to head to another dangerous location. It’s a lot of takeoffs and landings for one film to depict. Most of the characters are “types” more than realistic portrayals of actual people. Whether you want to call them archetypes or stereotypes is up to you. When you have characters called “Irish” and “Tex” and “Minnesota,” you know that you’re probably not going to have the depth of characterization that more actor-driven movies might have. The opening credits don’t even mention the names of the characters; John Ridgely plays The Pilot, Gig Young plays The Co-Pilot, Arthur Kennedy is The Bombardier, etc. We do get some bits of information about most of the men in the “Mary-Ann.” For example, the gunner failed his pilot training but is actually quite a good pilot. There’s a fresh recruit that you just know isn’t destined to last for too long. There’s an old-timer whose son is carrying on the family tradition of military service. Because we only get brief insights into the backgrounds of these men, it is tough to really speak much about the performances, but John Garfield as the gunner Joe Winocki stands out (just as you would expect an actor of Garfield’s talent to do) as does Harry Carey as Robbie White, the experienced crew chief. The film features only a few minor female characters because this is truly a film about men in wartime and what they have to endure in battle and afterwards. (For some comic relief, there is a dog named Tripoli, who barks whenever someone says the word/name “Moto.” It’s rather cringe-inducing after a while, though, a “joke” that truly doesn’t stay fresh for long.) The film spends quite a bit of time in the cockpit with the men gently teasing each other, such as when the pilot and co-pilot rib their passenger, a fighter pilot who prefers to fly the smaller planes, over which kind of pilots are the best. The plane itself endures a lot. It keeps getting shot at and damaged, and more (longer) repairs are needed each time it lands. Air Force also isn’t afraid to depict one of the typical outcomes of war: death. An extended battle sequence late in the film is particularly brutal in that respect, particularly in its depiction of the defeated Japanese. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the cinematography; it’s first-rate and really shows a mastery of the use of light to illuminate faces in those flights at night.

Oscar Win: Best Film Editing

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Original Screenplay, Best Black-and-White Cinematography, and Best Special Effects

Far from Heaven (2002)

 

Far from Heaven is quite simply a gorgeous film. The production design, the costume design, the cinematography – those beautiful fall colors! – are all just first rate. The score by Elmer Bernstein is so evocative of the movies from the 1950s that director Todd Haynes pays homage to. Far from Heaven is really a sort of reworking of the Douglas Sirk classic All that Heaven Allows (1955), but instead of focusing on two people from different classes who fall in love with each other, the newer film focuses on the growing affection between two people of different races. It also presents a sympathetic depiction of a gay man coming to terms with his sexuality during a period when that was as taboo a subject as interracial relationships. Cathy Whitaker (the astoundingly good Julianne Moore) lives a comfortable if restrained middle class existence. When she surprises her husband Frank (Dennis Quaid giving a career-best performance) at his office after work hours, she finds him kissing another man. Their relationship, unsurprisingly, begins to crumble after this revelation. He seeks psychiatric help, as did many gay men of the time, but refuses to share with her how his treatment is going. He begins drinking more, he becomes outraged easily, and he even slaps her over his inability to… uh… perform. Quaid is a standout in this film. The scene where he reveals that he’s fallen in love with someone else, another man, is a marvel to watch. Moore deservedly received attention for her performance, which is note perfect, but Quaid should have been nominated as well. Cathy develops a friendship with her black gardener, played with such gentleness by Dennis Haysbert. His Raymond Deacon is the only person around whom Cathy seems to feel comfortable. They bond over modern art and even go to have a meal at a local restaurant, but their friendship starts to garner them a lot of attention. The neighbors, played by such great actors as Celia Weston, begin gossiping, and he realizes that they cannot keep seeing each other. In a wonderful small touch, Haysbert sometimes even dresses like Rock Hudson, the male lead of All That Heaven Allows. Haynes and his crew pay such close attention to almost every detail. The rest of the cast is uniformly excellent. Viola Davis, early in her career here, gets one good scene, but it’s enough to see why she’s such an acclaimed actor. Patricia Clarkson is a delight as Cathy’s best friend Elinor; she seems to be very modern and understanding and accepting until Cathy reveals her possible feelings for Raymond and then Elinor is shockingly judgmental. The final sequence of the film is just heartbreaking in so many ways, but you know that it’s also truly realistic.

Oscar Nominations: Best Actress in a Leading Role (Julianne Moore), Best Original Screenplay, Best Cinematography, and Best Original Score

There's No Business Like Show Business (1954)

 There’s No Business Like Show Business is, by today’s standards and perhaps even by the standards of the 1950s, a rather old-fashioned musical. It’s a family drama that begins in the vaudeville of 1919. Ethel Merman and Dan Dailey play a performing couple named Molly and Terry Donahue experiencing the ups and downs of a theatrical life. The arrival of each of their three children means another addition to the act until they become known as the Five Donahues. However, Molly wants a stable life for her children, and she and Terry agree to pack them off to a boarding school while they continue earning a living on the road. The three children, now grown up, return to the family act, naturally, but each of them starts to want a different path than show business. The eldest child, Steve (played by singer Johnny Ray), becomes a priest. Tim, the younger son (played by the always reliable Donald O’Connor), falls for a very ambitious hatcheck girl, Vicky Parker (Marilyn Monroe—more on her later), but she’s not interested in him initially because he can’t help to further her career. Tim’s sister, Katy (the delightful and underused Mitzi Gaynor), eventually joins him as a backup performer for Vicky. Katy and Tim have an argument, Vicky and Tim have a disagreement, and Tim disappears. Of course, you know O’Connor is not going to be gone for too long, not in a movie this focused on family dynamics. Monroe is definitely the highlight for a modern audience, and her few numbers are wonderfully staged. “Heat Wave” is quite a showcase for her talents; why Hollywood couldn’t see how remarkably gifted she was remains a mystery. You’ll likely recognize the iconic white gown Monroe wears for “After You Get What You Want, You Don’t Want It.” (Many of her best songs relied on that kind of double entendre.) As great as Monroe is or was, she isn’t truly the star of the film. Merman is really the star and is a more fascinating performer to me. She was never a huge movie star; she just couldn’t seem to transfer her Broadway superstardom to the big screen. Perhaps it’s because she always seems to be so… “on.” She never sings quietly; you can always hear her distinctive voice above everyone else, particularly in the rendition of the movie’s title song. All of the songs in the movie were written by Irving Berlin, a favorite composer of Merman’s. However, I don’t know that I needed to hear nine minutes of “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” in Scottish dialect and French and German and…. It’s a bit much, frankly, even for such a nice and well-loved song. My favorite of the songs is “A Sailor’s Not a Sailor (‘Til a Sailor’s Been Tattooed),” a real eye-opener performed by Merman and Gaynor in naval attire. It’s the butchest I’ve ever seen Merman on screen, and that’s saying a lot. Honestly, nothing all that dramatic happens in the movie. Having children choose different paths from their parents isn’t a new storyline. So when Molly starts belting out the title song during a benefit performance at the Hippodrome, it’s hardly surprising to see her husband and three children join her. Even Marilyn’s Vicky is there. The final scene goes just as you would expect, and really, you shouldn’t necessarily want it to go any other way.

Oscar Nominations: Best Motion Picture Story, Best Color Costume Design, and Best Scoring of a Musical Picture

The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm (1962)

 

The frame story of The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm, involving the writing of the family history of a local duke by Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm, is nowhere near as interesting as the three fairy tales that are presented and that make up a significant portion of the film’s plot. In essence, it’s like having three clever short films linked together by a rather weak and uninteresting story of the guys who collected them. They might have been more successful had they been released as separate short films. Wilhelm Grimm (Laurence Harvey, as unctuous as ever) keeps getting distracted from the work for which he and his brother are being paid and which is allowing them to live rent free. He only cares about the enchanting stories that he hears from local people. Jacob (Karlheinz Bohm, probably best known for his work in European films) is wooing (badly) the beautiful Greta Heinrich (Barbara Eden) and writing boring books about grammar and other dull subjects that no one really wants to purchase. By the way, it’s always a shock for me to see actors like Eden who are so identified with a particular role performing in a film or TV show that’s so vastly different from what they’re known for. The most interesting thing that happens to the two brothers is the loss of the manuscript of the duke’s history and Wilhelm’s subsequent illness that leaves him hallucinating that he’s being visited by various fairy tale characters like Rumpelstiltskin and the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk and Little Red Riding Hood. Since the film is geared towards kids, it’s tough to imagine that this kind of stuff would hold their interest for the whole 135 minutes running time. The three stories, however, are delightful; they’re bright and colorful representations of the tales Wilhelm is collecting. The first one, “The Dancing Princess,” features Yvette Mimieux and Russ Tamblyn, a cloak that renders the wearer invisible, and one of the longest carriage rides in the history of film—no, really, it takes up a ridiculous amount of time. This segment also has Jim Backus and Beulah Bondi in supporting roles, just a couple the supporting players who make the film more watchable. “The Cobbler and the Elves” actually features Harvey as the shoemaker and George Pal’s Puppetoons as the elves. The story is a famous one about how the cobbler gets into trouble with everyone because he’s always late with their orders, but the elves save him by making all of the shoes in just one night. Watching the Puppetoons craft the shoes is a lot of fun, honestly, and you’re willing to forgive the inclusion of Harvey in this second role because he’s not always the main focus. This is the story that Wilhelm tells a group of kids and the patrons of a bookstore in order to see if there’s any interest in a book of these kinds of tales; I think we all know how that turns out. The final fairy tale is the strangely-named “The Singing Bone” starring Terry-Thoms and Buddy Hackett, a story of betrayal involving a knight and his squire, a very sparkly dragon, a miraculous return from the dead, and the most and best special effects of the movie. One of the few films to be produced in Cinerama, The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm makes effective use of all that screen space. Most of the movie still makes for fun viewing, but I kept wanting to fast forward through all of the stuff involving the brothers’ personal lives and get back to the fairy tales.; that’s where the true fun is.

Oscar Win: Best Color Costume Design

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Color Cinematography, Best Color Art Direction-Set Decoration, and Best Scoring of Music, Adaptation or Treatment 

2010 (1984)

 

2010, sometimes referred to as 2010: The Year We Make Contact, is a sequel to that enigmatic masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey. The second film features a team of American and Soviet (what we now call Russian) astronauts heading back to Jupiter and its moon Europa to discover what happened and to restart the HAL 9000 computer that caused all of the chaos nine years earlier. (That certainly seems like a bad idea given how the original film ended.) 2010, being a product of the 1980s, is filled with almost stereotypical Cold War fears and concerns. The Soviet Union and the United States are on the brink of war while the mission is underway, and there’s a palpable sense of tension and distrust between the U.S. and Soviet astronauts. The dialog in Russian is neither translated into subtitles or dubbed, which only adds to the sense of distance between the representatives of the two countries. The film features good performances from a cast that includes such talented actors as Roy Scheider, John Lithgow, and Helen Mirren (as a leader of the Soviet astronauts). Bob Balaban, always a reliable and welcome presence in the movies, plays the scientist who revives HAL and learns that the computer was being forced to keep a secret about the ubiquitous monoliths that our government had tried to cover up. He gets along well with HAL, and their conversations are intriguing when compared to what happened in the first film, but I feel like 2010 spends just a bit too much time inside that red glow-bathed control room. HAL’s red “eye” isn’t as mind-blowing this time around either. The sequel is rather stylish if slow-moving at times. It owes a clear debt to the first Alien film with the sharp contrast between the dark Soviet spaceship and the brightly lit American ship. The filmmakers also recreated some of the props and costumes from the 1968 film, which begs the question of just how original this Oscar-nominated costume design really is, particularly since the costumes of the original were not nominated. The film asks a lot of questions for viewers to ponder: Will the U.S. and the Soviet Union astronauts work together to get everyone back to Earth? Will HAL interfere again once it/he realizes the purpose of this mission? Will we ever learn what the monoliths are and why they appear when and where they do? What is Keir Dullea, so memorable as David Bowman in 2001, doing in this film? Is he a ghost or an apparition, and what is he trying to accomplish? I’m not certain that we care enough, truly, about the answers to these questions, but fans of 2001: A Space Odyssey might want to know more than I felt I wanted to know. To me, 2010 is almost as bewildering at times as that earlier film; it’s just not as powerful or awe-inspiring.

Oscar Nominations: Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Best Costume Design, Best Sound, Best Visual Effects, and Best Makeup

Triangle of Sadness (2022)

 

Triangle of Sadness is an unexpected choice for inclusion on the list of nominees for Best Motion Picture of the Year. It’s certainly a very accomplished film from the award-winning Swedish director/screenwriter Ruben Ostlund. It’s also a pretty dark comedy with some rather bleak moments, and the audience keeps getting shocked by where the film goes. Overall, it’s quite an indictment of the rich and also a very stinging depiction of how badly we often treat each other. Maybe its inclusion is a sign that the members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences have become more open to considering more unusual films as being award worthy.

The film features what would ordinarily be a typical three-part structure, but here each of the sections is a very distinctly different kind of story. Our focus keeps shifting with the start of each new section, which certainly keeps a viewer on their toes when we have, essentially, three different film genres to connect. “Part 1: Carl & Yaya” features a young couple, both of whom are models. However, Yaya (Charlbi Dean) makes much more money as a female model than her boyfriend Carl (Harris Dickinson) does as a male model. They fight a lot about money and gender roles, and you begin to suspect that the film might be some sort of examination of these issues. They don’t seem to have a very happy relationship – it seems rather toxic, actually – so we could perhaps even expect the film to be an examination of the nature of these kinds of relationships.

However, when “Part 2: The Yacht” begins, we see that the number of characters we’ll need to follow expands. We have the crew of a very expensive private yacht and a range of incredibly rich (and incredibly stupid) people. These rich people are just awful; they have such dumb thoughts in their heads. One of them claims that everyone is equal and, thus, the crew should have a chance to swim just like the wealthy patrons on the yacht do, and the crew has to accommodate their demands, no matter how ridiculous they might be and no matter how much it will interfere with the crew’s ability to do their necessary work. Thus, the preparations for the evening meal gets delayed and the confused crew members slide into the ocean one at a time and then return to their more menial but essential tasks.

It's quite the collection of oddballs on this cruise. There’s a woman who can only speak one sentence in German due to a stroke. There’s a Russian fertilizer salesman who gets into a puzzling debate with the captain over the virtues of capitalism vs. communism. One couple has made their money from selling explosives and weapons used by some of the worst world leaders. And one woman swears that the yacht, which is motorized, has dirty sails despite being assured by the captain and members of the crew that there are no sails. The captain, by the way, is played by Woody Harrelson, whose performance is quite as off kilter as you might expect from him.

The centerpiece of Part 2 is a disastrous Captain’s Dinner. Thanks to some poor choices based on trying to meet the demands of the rich people on board, it occurs in the middle of a violent storm and the food has spoiled because it’s been sitting on hold while the crew was forced into taking a dip in the ocean. You’ve not seen so much vomiting and diarrhea in a film in a while. It’s quite the punishment for the out-of-touch people on this yacht.

“Part 3: The Island” shifts the focus to a survival film. The ship has been destroyed by pirates, and most of the guests and crew have died. Only one person among the survivors seems to know how do anything, and she was the former toilet monitor on the ship – in other words, part of the bathroom cleaning crew. Abigail (played by Dolly De Leon) upends the class system, forcing the wealthy passengers to accept her as “the captain” before they receive any food. She also starts a sexual relationship with Karl in order to grant him food and privileges that he can share with Yaya. De Leon is magisterial in her performance. We may return to focusing on Carl and Yaya a bit more in this third part, but really, we care most about Abigail. De Leon gives what would be an award-worthy performance in any other year.

The ending of Triangle of Sadness is unexpected and rather inconclusive. Given its enigmatic nature, the ending doesn’t especially engender any sympathy for the characters who are still around. I’m not certain what could happen to them next, but I’m also not quite sure that I’d care to know what happens to any of them other than Abigail. Several of the films nominated for Best Motion Picture this year had these rather puzzling conclusions. Maybe that’s a trend for the 2020s to watch out for.

It’s somewhat interesting to note that the sequences on the yacht were filmed on a yacht used by Aristotle and Jackie Onassis. Talk about the wealthy and privileged; that boat must have some wild stories associated with it. It’s also sad that the actress who plays Yaya, Charlbi Dean, passed away before the film received its Academy recognition. I might not like the self-involved character that she plays, but Dean was certainly a talented actress who was still very early in her career.

Oscar Nominations: Best Motion Picture of the Year, Best Achievement in Directing (Ruben Ostlund), and Best Original Screenplay

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964; 1965)

 

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Les parapluies de Cherbourg) is a gorgeously shot film from France’s Jacques Demy, who wrote the screenplay and directed the film. It’s a sung-through musical, meaning no one speaks any dialogue; they sing everything. I’ve often found this approach to musicals – both film and stage – annoying at times, but not here. This is a charming love story about a failed romance between two exceptionally beautiful characters: a garage mechanic named Guy (Nino Castelnuovo) and a shopkeeper’s daughter named Genevieve (Catharine Deneuve in a career-making role). As is (too) often the case with young lovers in the movies, they want to marry but face opposition from their respective families. Genevieve’s mother (played with a flirtatious passion by Anne Vernon) and Guy’s aunt/godmother (played by Mireille Perrey) seem to want their charges to stick around and help them rather than live separate lives. It doesn’t matter, though, because Guy receives notice that he must complete his required military service, and at the time of the initial scenes of the film, Algeria is attempting to gain its independence from France. The plot is simple yet universal: Genevieve becomes pregnant after she and Guy make love, and then she doesn’t hear from him for long periods of time while he is away in Algeria. She misses Guy but is quite lonely. At the urging of her mother, she meets another man, the slick diamond merchant Roland Cassard, and begins contemplating marriage to someone other than her beloved Guy. The ending of the film is sad, not a typical Hollywood ending, but then many romances do actually end sadly rather than happily ever after. The cinematography is first-rate; this is a simply beautiful film to watch, and all of the pinks and blues on screen just dazzle the eye. Likewise, the musical score by the legendary Michel Legrand is touching and funny and perfect. It seems to rain a lot in Cherbourg, perhaps fitting the title of the film a bit too much, but that rain serves as a consistent reminder of the undercurrent of sadness that permeates the film’s narrative.

NOTE: The Umbrellas of Cherbourg was submitted by France for Oscar consideration for Best Foreign Language Film of 1964 and then released in U.S. theaters later. That’s why it was also nominated for several Oscars the following year. It happened rather frequently in the past that foreign language films would span a couple of years of Academy Award consideration.

Oscar Nomination (for 1964): Best Foreign Language Film

Oscar Nominations (for 1965): Best Story and Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen, Best Original Song (“I Will Wait for You”), Best Score: Substantially Original, and Best Score of Music: Adaptation or Treatment