Peter O'Toole Oscar Nomination Number One: An Analysis

PETER O'TOOLE OSCAR NOMINATION NUMBER ONE: AN ANALYSIS

There would be time enough to reward Peter O'Toole in the future. 

Perhaps that is a reason why O'Toole lost the Best Actor Oscar on his first nomination. How were people in 1962 supposed to know that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science would nominate O'Toole seven more times without ever awarding him a competitive Oscar?

The 35th Academy Awards showed a lot of lust in the dust in its slate of nominees. The grand biographical epic Lawrence of Arabia led the nominations tally with ten. Hot on its heels was the relatively small-scale drama To Kill a Mockingbird, which had eight. Curiously, these two films faced off in only five categories. At the time, certain categories were split between black-and-white and color films. Therefore, Lawrence of Arabia and To Kill a Mockingbird could both be nominated for Art Direction and Cinematography (and both win the former) with no difficulty. In the five categories where they did compete against each other, the overall tally was evenly split between them. Lawrence of Arabia won in three of those five categories: Picture, Director and Score. To Kill a Mockingbird won in the other two categories: Adapted Screenplay and Actor. 

The other Best Picture nominees were also nominated in multiple categories. Mutiny on the Bounty, The Music Man and The Longest Day received seven, six and five overall nominations respectively. In a surprising turn, these other nominees did not face off against Lawrence of Arabia and/or To Kill a Mockingbird often. It is a hodgepodge of categories where only in Film Editing did four of the five Best Picture nominees compete against each other. To Kill a Mockingbird failed to be nominated for its film editing, with The Manchurian Candidate taking that fifth slot that year. Lawrence of Arabia won that category, one of its seven overall wins.

That black-and-white/color split caused part of that failure to have the Best Picture nominees square off as often. The Longest Day and To Kill a Mockingbird were the black-and-white films that faced off in Cinematography and Art Direction. The former won the first category, the latter the second. The three Best Picture nominees in color competed against each other in Color Art Direction (Lawrence of Arabia, The Music Man and Mutiny on the Bounty) and Color Cinematography (Lawrence of Arabia and Mutiny on the Bounty). Lawrence of Arabia won those. When there was no black-and-white/color split, it was Lawrence of Arabia winning Best Sound over The Music Man and in Original Score over both Mutiny on the Bounty and To Kill a Mockingbird. The Music Man, as an adaptation of a Broadway musical, was in a separate category of Musical Adaptation, which it won.

Overall, the Best Picture race was a battle between T.E. Lawrence and Atticus Finch. The Longest Day, The Music Man and Mutiny on the Bounty had little to no chance of winning here. Those five, six and seven nominations were not in Best Director. The remaining three Best Director slots were filled by Divorce Italian Style's Pietro Germi, The Miracle Worker's Arthur Penn and in something of a surprise, Frank Perry's David and Lisa. The man who later brought the tawdry Mommie Dearest to life can claim to have been nominated for Best and Worst Director. 

The five Best Picture nominees were hit films, up to a point. The Longest Day, Lawrence of Arabia and The Music Man were the top three films respectively. Mutiny on the Bounty was fifth and To Kill a Mockingbird was sixth. There is a bit of a caveat in that Mutiny on the Bounty did not recoup its budget. Therefore, despite having a big box office, the film was a flop. It was also a flop at the Oscars, losing all seven of its nominations. 

Further evidence that no other film other than Lawrence of Arabia and To Kill a Mockingbird had a major chance to win comes from the acting nominations. Out of the twenty acting nominees that year, not one came from The Longest Day, The Music Man or Mutiny on the Bounty. Only Lawrence of Arabia and To Kill a Mockingbird were nominated in the acting categories. Both received two acting nominations each. Lawrence of Arabia famously had no female roles, so it was not in Lead or Supporting Actress. Its nominations were in Lead for Peter O'Toole and Supporting for Omar Sharif. To Kill a Mockingbird had its nominations in Lead for Gregory Peck and Supporting Actress for Mary Badham. 

It would be here in Best Actor where the young Turk and the old veteran would fight it out. Now, let us look at the competition.

The nominees for Best Actor in a Leading Role of 1962 were:

Burt Lancaster for Birdman of Alcatraz

Jack Lemmon for Days of Wine and Roses

Marcello Mastroianni for Divorce Italian Style

Peter O'Toole for Lawrence of Arabia

Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird

Two of this year's Best Actor nominees were already Oscar winners. Jack Lemmon had won on his first nomination: Best Supporting Actor for Mister Roberts. All of his future nominations were in the Leading Actor category. This nomination for Days of Wine and Roses was his fourth out of an eventual eight, with a second Oscar forthcoming. Burt Lancaster had won Best Actor on his second nomination for Elmer Gantry. This nomination for Birdman of Alcatraz would be his third out of an eventual four overall, all for Lead Actor. 

Two of this year's Best Actor nominees received their first nominations; those would be both Peter O'Toole and Marcello Mastroianni. The latter made Oscar history with his nomination for Divorce Italian Style. It was the first time that an actor was nominated for a leading performance in a non-English language film. He would receive two more Leading Actor Oscar nominations for A Special Day and Dark Eyes. Mastroianni would earn a place in Oscar history as one of the few people nominated multiple times for acting Oscars in a language other than English. For his part, Peter O'Toole would receive a career total of eight Oscar nominations, all for Lead Actor, and would go on to lose all eight.

Our fifth nominee, Gregory Peck, was the sole actor with previous nominations and no wins. His nomination for To Kill a Mockingbird was his fifth nomination. He had been nominated for three years straight from 1945 to 1947, with a fourth nomination in 1949. 1948 must have been a quiet year for Peck. It had been thirteen years since that nomination for Twelve O'Clock High. 

Two past winners. Two first-time nominees, one in a foreign language film. A beloved veteran who had yet to win an Oscar. Looking at it now, one wonders why they even bothered to hold a ceremony given that Gregory Peck was almost certain to win separate from how good or bad his performance was. 

Peter O'Toole was not completely out of the running. Lawrence of Arabia had the most nominations: ten versus To Kill a Mockingbird's eight. It was the bigger hit. He and he alone was Peck's greatest threat. However, had O'Toole won, it would have felt a bit like an upset win. Peck had lost four times before. He was adored by filmgoers and his fellow actors. Atticus Finch seemed tailor-made for Gregory Peck. It was almost as if he were playing himself.

Gregory Peck had all the cards to win this year. As stated, he was the only returning nominee. He was totally beloved by the Academy membership and Hollywood community overall. Lawrence of Arabia was pretty much set to dominate the Academy Awards. To Kill a Mockingbird could not mount a threat for all of its other battles with Lawrence of Arabia. That film was too big, too powerful, to have another be a strong rival; no other Best Picture nominated film was not going to be a serious threat. 

Curiously enough, that dominance was reversed in Best Actor between To Kill a Mockingbird and Lawrence of Arabia. It was Peck who was essentially too strong to have anyone else overtake him. O'Toole was Peck's greatest threat. He, however, was not going to get past Peck's wild card: those previous nominations. Giving Peck the Oscar would be a way to reward Peck on a personal level while throwing To Kill a Mockingbird a bone.

The battle was always going to be between Gregory Peck and Peter O'Toole. The other three had little to no chance. Lancaster and Lemmon were already Oscar winners. That, along with how neither Birdman of Alcatraz nor Days of Wine and Roses were as big as either To Kill a Mockingbird or Lawrence of Arabia pretty much killed their chances. Mastroianni was in a foreign language film. Sophia Loren, who presented Best Actor that year, had been the first person to win an acting Oscar for a foreign language performance in Two Women. I think her win was a combination of Loren's star power and a relatively weak competition. We were not going to see a repeat for Lead Actor here. Peck and O'Toole were too strong to have Mastroianni sweep in.

Most people that year may have focused on Lead Actress to see if Bette Davis could win her third Oscar. That bit of potential history, coupled with the juicy story of the longstanding feud between Davis and her non-nominated What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? costar Joan Crawford might have distracted some. When it came to Best Actor, there was hardly any suspense. 

It was a combination of personal affection and an overdue narrative that got Gregory Peck the win. In a most curious way, Peter O'Toole's first nomination out of a future eight losses would go unrewarded because someone else was considered overdue.

Here, now, is my ranking from Best to Worst:

Peter O'Toole

Gregory Peck

Marcello Mastroianni

Burt Lancaster

Jack Lemmon

Peter O'Toole burst onto the world's stage as T.E. Lawrence. His performance was complex, befitting this most enigmatic of men. He showed Lawrence as brash, arrogant, who then became almost drunk with his own publicity only to become disillusioned, haunted and tortured. The arrogance of youth was blended with ancient wisdom in his performance. This was a man who came to Arabia utterly convinced that he knew more than the generals, because he did. He evolved into a man whose loyalty became divided both politically and internally.

At one point in the film, Lawrence has reached the Suez Canal. As someone calls out "Who are you?" to him, we see Peter O'Toole's admittedly beautiful blue eyes. This is a now-haunted man, who cannot answer that question because he simply does not know. The double meaning of the question is clear. It is both a literal question and a metaphorical one. 

Technically, Lawrence of Arabia was not Peter O'Toole's film debut. It was, however, a thunderous debut for audiences. It is a towering performance which for me has grown in stature. 

Here is where I get into the "unpopular opinion" section when it comes to Gregory Peck's win. His performance in To Kill a Mockingbird is held in such lofty terms as to be downright deified. So many lawyers will almost certainly tell you that Atticus Finch/Gregory Peck inspired them to become lawyers. Atticus Finch was voted the Greatest Screen Hero by the American Film Institute. He is nobility itself. He is the embodiment of moral courage. He is practically perfect in every way. 

Curiously, Lawrence of Arabia's T.E. Lawrence was ranked at Number 10 on the AFI Heroes and Villains List, the highest listing for a historical figure.

I think that it is a very good performance. Having revisited To Kill a Mockingbird after so many years, I think there are issues. Nowadays, Peck's Atticus Finch can be seen as a "white savior". Here is Atticus Finch, all nobility, all moral rectitude, strutting about telling the rural jurors to "do their duty" and do right by "the great levelers" of the court system. Finch's closing statement, to my mind, comes across as rather grand to pompous, especially in its delivery. This is not to say that what he was saying was wrong. It is, rather, to say that Atticus Finch was addressing the wrong audience. 

The jurors in the Tom Robinson trial were rural white men. I figure most were not well-educated, certainly not to Finch's level. Yet, here is Atticus Finch, not speaking to them but almost speaking at them, lecturing them about doing their duty. He did not seem to want to win them over into doing the near-impossible. He seemed to be scolding them for not overcoming decades of prejudice because he, Atticus Finch, said so.

To be fair, the "white savior" trope could be thrown at T.E. Lawrence. Here was this brash British officer trying to liberate the Arab peoples and unite them under one banner. I would argue that Lawrence is different than Finch because Lawrence was a real person. Moreover, it was his efforts to meddle in Arab affairs that were not shown in Lawrence of Arabia in the best light. That did not happen in To Kill a Mockingbird. Far from it. Atticus Finch is nobility itself because he is that white savior, not despite him being a white savior. Yet, I digress. 

There is also whether Gregory Peck acted or played himself. Peter O'Toole was wrong for the role of T.E. Lawrence on many levels. O'Toole was about a half foot taller than the real Lawrence. He also was a gregarious Irishman versus the more retiring British officer. Gregory Peck, conversely, was pretty much the same as Atticus Finch off and on screen. 

Again, this is not to say that I think Gregory Peck gave a bad performance. His scenes with the children were a standout for him in terms of acting. He was gentle and loving but firm in his own way. Overall, though, I still think that Atticus Finch is closer to how Gregory Peck was than when he played Josef Mengele or Douglas MacArthur.

Finally, when it comes to Peck, we cannot dismiss the "overdue" narrative. To Kill a Mockingbird was his fifth nomination. It was also his last nomination. The Academy may have felt that, now that they awarded Peck the Oscar, they had done right by him. To be fair, they were not going to nominate him for something like Old Gringo. Still, no one questions why Gregory Peck never received another acting Oscar nomination (he was awarded the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award four years later).

Now, as regards the other nominees, I put Marcello Mastroianni third because he, like O'Toole and Peck, gave an actual performance. His sleazy Count had something of an exaggerated manner. However, Divorce Italian Style was a farce. I think that Mastroianni played the part correctly. With the forlorn face and slightly droopy shoulders, Mastroianni made the character a deliberately ridiculous figure. We were meant to laugh at him and see him as a bit of a cartoon. He was comically sinister.

Lancaster's great flaw in Birdman of Alcatraz was that he made his character one-note. Lancaster's Robert Stroud was always righteously angry. Sometimes, I thought that Lancaster was literally posing while delivering his lines as if he were playing a statue come to life. Lancaster's square jaw and tight face always said, "I AM NOBLE". Gregory Peck at least had gentle moments with children. Burt Lancaster just had his birds.

It is curious that Jack Lemmon keeps popping up during this Peter O'Toole Retrospective. This is the first of an eventual three times that Lemmon and O'Toole would face off against each other. They would not face off against each other until 1980 on O'Toole's sixth nomination and Lemmon's seventh. They would duel again two years later on what would be Lemmon's final Oscar nomination. Both would lose those three times.

I have seen five of Jack Lemmon's eight nominations. I have yet to see the two films that won him the Oscar: Mister Roberts and Save the Tiger. It is unfortunate that each time that Lemmon and O'Toole face off, the former always lands at or near the bottom. Lemmon's nomination for Tribute was probably his worst. His nomination for Days of Wine and Roses, to my mind, is not far behind.

Having seen Days of Wine and Roses twice, I still am astonished at its lofty reputation. It is constantly sold to me as this gripping portrait of the destructive nature of alcoholism. I see it as the alcoholic version of Reefer Madness. One drop of booze, apparently, can turn a teetotaler into a sex-crazed harpy with vaguely incestuous designs. 

My puzzlement over Days of Wine and Roses' lofty reputation extends to Jack Lemmon. This nomination, his fourth, was for a supposed straight drama. His previous nominations for Mister Roberts and Some Like It Hot were for comedies. The Apartment, I would argue, qualifies as a dramedy. Days of Wine and Roses was, I figure, meant to showcase Jack Lemmon as a dramatic, serious actor. 

If so, why was I laughing watching him throughout the film? I think it has to do with how apparently Lemmon and film director Blake Edwards approached the film. Lemmon had vetoed the original teleplay's director, John Frankenheimer, from directing the film version. According to Frankenheimer, Lemmon nixed him as the film version's director because Lemmon said that Frankenheimer "couldn't direct comedy". Reflecting decades later, Frankenheimer still seemed astonished at Lemmon's reasoning. "I never saw it as a comedy", Frankenheimer said.

The end results show that apparently Jack Lemmon and Blake Edwards saw Days of Wine and Roses as a comedy. There was a lot of mugging and slapstick early on in the film. Lemmon, for example, had a bouquet of flowers but was unaware that the elevator had cut the flowers off the stems. His "striptease" while revealing a bottle of booze was deliberately silly and exaggerated. Worse is what I am constantly told is his big dramatic scene. Lemmon's character had hidden a bottle in his father-in-law's greenhouse with an elaborate system: fifth row, third table, fourth pot. Lemmon is supposed to evoke shock and tears as he becomes more desperate in his efforts to find that bottle of alcohol, smashing the greenhouse due to his inability to find it and/or accurately recall his own code.

In the original teleplay, Cliff Robertson made the scene one of desperation, even terror. In the film version, Jack Lemmon made the scene one of unintended comedy. Ranting and raving like a crazed lunatic, this is some of the wildest overacting that I have seen. I wasn't shocked. I wasn't astounded. I Whatever Robertson's flaws as an actor might have been, he was nowhere near as over-the-top as Jack Lemmon was when he did the same scene. I think Jack Lemmon's nomination for Days of Wine and Roses is terrible and should not have happened. I think The Music Man's Robert Preston, Sweet Bird of Youth's Paul Newman or The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance's John Wayne would all have been better choices.

In an ironic twist, Cliff Robertson would go on to beat Peter O'Toole for the Best Actor Oscar. 

Peter O'Toole should have won Best Actor for Lawrence of Arabia over Gregory Peck for To Kill a Mockingbird.

In conclusion, the Academy made the wrong choice in not awarding Peter O'Toole the Best Actor Oscar on his first nomination. 

Peter O'Toole Oscar Nomination Number Six: An Analysis

PETER O'TOOLE OSCAR NOMINATION NUMBER SIX: 

AN ANALYSIS

On his sixth Academy Award nomination, Peter O'Toole faced yet again more insurmountable odds to have much chance of winning the long-elusive Oscar. Two of his competitors were in Best Picture nominees. Two were already Oscar winners. However, O'Toole's nominated performance for The Stunt Man actually had a slight leg-up on at least two of his fellow Oscar nominees. 

This would be the last nomination that O'Toole received for a film where he was not that film's sole nomination. Out of his eight overall career nominations, three (The Ruling Class, My Favorite Year and Venus) were for films where only his work was singled out for recognition. Out of these, only The Ruling Class came prior to this particular nomination. 

This time, it was different. His Best Actor nomination for The Stunt Man was one of three that the film received. Besides the nod for O'Toole, The Stunt Man received two other surprisingly high-end nominations. One was for Best Adapted Screenplay. The third was for Best Director. This nod is a somewhat ironic nomination given that O'Toole played a tyrannical director in The Stunt Man. This indicates, if not strong support for The Stunt Man, at least a greater awareness among Academy members of the film. For once, Peter O'Toole was not the nominee whose nomination was that film's sole nomination.

That distinction went to Jack Lemmon, who was on his seventh career nomination for Tribute. Lemmon was Tribute's only Oscar nomination that year. As such, it was Lemmon, not O'Toole, who had even less of a chance at winning Best Actor. O'Toole had another advantage when it came to fellow nominee Robert Duvall. The Great Santini had scored only two nominations: one for Duvall as Best Actor and one for Michael O'Keefe as Best Supporting Actor. As such, the chances of Lemmon winning were almost nil. Duvall had a slightly better chance, but not by much. The Great Santini did not leave as great an impression on the Academy as The Stunt Man. In retrospect, Peter O'Toole had a slightly, slightly stronger chance to best two of his rivals.

The unfortunate thing for O'Toole, however, was that his two other nominees were in stronger positions to win. Both Robert De Niro and John Hurt were in films that were tied for the most Oscar nominations that year. Raging Bull and The Elephant Man each received eight nominations. Raging Bull and The Elephant Man were battling it out not just in Best Actor. They faced off against each other in Best Picture, Best Director and Best Film Editing as well. These are major categories, meaning that Academy voters were watching Raging Bull and The Elephant Man more than The Stunt Man, The Great Santini and especially Tribute. 

Where would O'Toole's chances to finally win stand this year? First, let us look at our choices.

The nominees for Best Actor in a Leading Role for 1980 were

Robert De Niro in Raging Bull

Robert Duvall in The Great Santini

John Hurt in The Elephant Man

Jack Lemmon in Tribute

Peter O'Toole in The Stunt Man

It is a most curious coincidence that two of 1980's Best Picture and Best Actor selections were for black-and-white biopics from two legendary directors: Martin Scorsese and David Lynch. Separate from how good or bad Duvall, Lemmon and/or O'Toole were, the battle was always between Robert De Niro as Jake LaMotta in Raging Bull and John Hurt as John Merrick in The Elephant Man. The other three should have just been glad to be invited. I do not think that any of them had any real shot of pulling an upset. 

Jack Lemmon was probably the least likely to surprise. He was already a two-time Oscar winner by this point. His second win for Save the Tiger had been seven years ago. Therefore, one could say that it had been a while. However, it was not that long of a while. Moreover, as already stated, Lemmon was Tribute's sole nomination. He had been nominated the year before for The China Syndrome. That film received four nominations to Tribute's one. Save the Tiger had, like The Stunt Man, three Oscar nominations. 

As a side note, this would be the second of three occasions when Jack Lemmon and Peter O'Toole would face off for Best Actor. They had first battled in 1962 on Peter O'Toole's first nomination and Jack Lemmon's fourth nomination. They would return to dueling for the prize a mere two years later. They both lost on all three occasions.  

Oddly, if someone was going to ride an overdue narrative, it was not going to be six-time nominee O'Toole. It was going to be three-time nominee Robert Duvall. He had been nominated those three times within nine years. The Great Santini was his third nomination, but it was his second consecutive nomination after his Best Supporting Actor nomination for Apocalypse Now. He had been more consistent in his nominations than O'Toole, who had gone without a nomination since Duvall's first for The Godfather the same year that The Ruling Class had been nominated. Therefore, Robert Duvall was fresh in Academy members' memory. Peter O'Toole was not.

Still, The Stunt Man was a bigger hit than The Great Santini. It also got three major nominations to The Great Santini's two. Was there any chance that Peter O'Toole could have snuck in? Sadly, no. Again, I go back to how Robert De Niro and John Hurt were dominating everyone else. Raging Bull and The Elephant Man are held up as some of the best films of 1980. The Academy gave each eight nominations. This year, the big question was whether Best Actor would go to a black-and-white biopic or to a black-and-white biopic. It was always going to come down between De Niro and Hurt. We know that in the end, Robert De Niro won that fight. He was one of two Oscars for Raging Bull. The Elephant Man went empty-handed, its 0-8 record one of the worst in Academy history. 

Now, how would I have ranked the nominees? Here is my slate in order from Best to Worst:

Robert De Niro

John Hurt

Robert Duvall

Peter O'Toole

Jack Lemmon

I would like to point out that Donald Sutherland never received a competitive Academy Award nomination in the whole of his career. As of this writing, Richard Gere has not received a competitive Academy Award nomination in the whole of his career. Why do I mention that? Well, it is because Jack Lemmon simply has no business being a nominee this year. 

Jack Lemmon in Tribute is an abomination. I sat in stunned disbelief that this hammy, over-the-top, embarrassing performance was nominated for an Academy Award. Tribute is simply dreadful. It is basically a filmed play, and not a particularly good play either. Lemmon originated the role of Scottie Templeton in Tribute on Broadway. For reasons lost to history, no one either in front or behind the camera apparently understood that what works on a stage does not necessarily work in film. Lemmon was hammy throughout Tribute, playing to the rafters where a more toned-down manner would have done much better. He mugs, he prances, he does funny faces and wears funny costumes, even a chicken outfit. I know that they were going for pathos. They ended up with pathetic.

Jack Lemmon took the slot that could and should have been filled by someone who actually acted rather than made faces. Richard Gere in American Gigolo, his star-making turn, would have made a better choice. Donald Sutherland in that year's Best Picture winner Ordinary People would have made a brilliant choice. Every one of Sutherland's costars was nominated: Mary Tyler Moore for Lead Actress and both Judd Hirsh and Timothy Hutton for Best Supporting Actor, with Hutton winning. Yet the Academy overlooked Sutherland's more nuanced performance for Lemmon's cartoonish performance. 

Tommy Lee Jones in Coal Miner's Daughter would also have done better than Jack Lemmon in Tribute. You also had Jack Nicholson in The Shining, Dabney Coleman in 9 to 5 and John Travolta in Urban Cowboy. Those performances and films are still remembered. No one remembers Tribute. It helps that Nicholson, Coleman and Travolta were actually good in The Shining, 9 to 5 and Urban Cowboy. That is something that cannot be said about Jack Lemmon in Tribute. 

Exactly how bad, how flat-out awful was Jack Lemmon in Tribute? Seeing Sam J. Jones nominated for Best Actor in Flash Gordon makes more sense than Jack Lemmon getting nominated for Best Actor in Tribute. I am being somewhat facetious in saying that it would not surprise me if literal bribes were given and taken to get Jack Lemmon nominated for Tribute. That is how awful, bizarre and inexcusable Lemmon's nomination is. 

I cannot express fully just how much I loathe Jack Lemmon in Tribute. This is a simply inexplicable nomination.

So, of the rest, I sadly have to put Peter O'Toole near the bottom. Why? His performance as crazed director Eli Cross was quite good. It is one of his best. Unfortunately, it is also a case of category fraud to me. I had knocked down Forest Whitaker when he beat out Peter O'Toole for The Last King of Scotland because I thought Whitaker was really a Supporting and not Lead performance. 

In the same vein, I think O'Toole was a Supporting and not Lead performance. Had he been nominated for Best Supporting Actor, I think it would it have been a better fit given his role. He also could have actually won. The Stunt Man is not about Eli Cross. It is about the actual stunt man, Cameron (Steve Railsback). He would have been a more logical choice for Best Lead Actor in The Stunt Man than Peter O'Toole was for that film. 

Just as Lemmon essentially stole a spot for a whole slew of better performances, O'Toole did the same here. The difference though is that Peter O'Toole gave a good performance. Jack Lemmon did not. However, Jack Lemmon's nomination, however flawed, was definitely for a Leading Role. Peter O'Toole's nomination was for a Supporting Role passed off as a Leading one.

I wavered long and hard between the last three. Robert Duvall has a couple of strikes against him. First, few people remember The Great Santini. I take into consideration whether a performance has stood the test of time. Duvall's performance as Bull Meechum is nowhere near bad. In many ways, it is quite exceptional. He balances Bull's brutality with a vulnerability that said brutality hides. That being said, Duvall's brief cameo in To Kill a Mockingbird is better remembered than his turn in The Great Santini. 

Second, he is outmatched by at least one of the great screen performances. The Great Santini is well-acted. It is however not held up as one of Robert Duvall's best performances, let alone compared to his other nominees. 

It is to Robert Duvall's credit that he came very close to pushing John Hurt out to third. It is more impressive when you consider that I kept flipping back and forth between Hurt and Robert De Niro for the top spot. Duvall and De Niro in a head-to-head matchup would have been an easy choice: De Niro. What about Hurt and De Niro?

I wavered greatly between Hurt and De Niro. Both are brilliant. Both have stood the test of time. Sometimes I had John Hurt first. Sometimes I had Robert De Niro first. Ultimately, I went with De Niro because of a few reasons. The complaint that John Hurt had the makeup do some of the heavy acting lifting is not an unfair one. I think it helped Hurt's performance. However, that help is a double-edged sword. 

I also thought which one of the two is the one people still remember, still hold up as one of the all-time greats. That goes to De Niro. He transformed completely. It was not just physically, though there is that. De Niro also brought Jake LaMotta's complexity: that rage mixed with regret which made for compelling viewing. People still talk about Robert De Niro in Raging Bull. People do talk about John Hurt in The Elephant Man. 

They just do not talk about it as much as they do about De Niro's performance. 

Robert De Niro should have won Best Actor for Raging Bull over all the other nominees. His Best Actor win stands.

In conclusion, the Academy made the right choice in not awarding Peter O'Toole the Best Actor Oscar on his sixth nomination.

 

Tribute (1980): A Review

TRIBUTE

Sometimes, you watch a film and wonder, "why?". Why was it made? Why was it praised? Why and by extension how did it get Oscar recognition? Emilia Perez immediately comes to mind. Another one, for me at least, will be Tribute. If Tribute is remembered at all, it is because it earned Jack Lemmon his seventh and penultimate Oscar nomination. As of this writing, I have seen only five of his Oscar-nominated performances. Curiously, two of the three yet unseen are the ones for which he won: Mister Roberts and Save the Tiger. With all that said, I think that Tribute will easily be Jack Lemmon's weakest/worst nomination. Hammy and embarrassing for everyone involved, Tribute is anything but. 

Scottie Templeton (Jack Lemmon) is a former comedy writer now theater agent. He is a bon vivant extraordinaire, the life of the party, ready with zingers and one-liners for all occasions. This time though, there may not be punchlines but a gut punch. He is at the hospital for tests. Here, he is able to pick up Sally Haines (Kim Cattrall), a pretty young thing who has just had an appendectomy. He delights in telling her that he usually plays doctor but this time he is being tested. At the hospital though, he learns that he has leukemia. 

This won't change the happy-go-lucky rapscallion, who will keep the quips flowing as much as the booze behind the bookshelf. It is at this point that his ex-wife Maggie (Lee Remick) comes with their son, aspiring photographer Jud (Robby Benson). Maggie is in town for a school reunion and is initially not told of Scottie's condition. Jud too is kept in the dark, though it might not change his resentment against his father. Jud is as serious and somber as Scottie is humorous and quippy. 

Scottie wants to bond with Jud before time runs out. He attempts to set Jud up with Sally surreptitiously with disastrous results. He takes him to a tribute luncheon that Scottie organizes for Hillary (Gale Garnett), everyone's favorite hooker. Jud would rather go to the last day of a photographic exhibition. Will father and son reconcile even after Scottie's diagnosis is revealed? Will Scottie get his own Tribute?

Tribute's screenplay was adapted by the original playwright, Bernard Slade. That is one of if not Tribute's biggest problem. Tribute is a filmed play. It is one of the worst examples of a filmed play. It plays to an empty audience. Scottie Templeton mugs, does theatrical flourishes and puts on funny costumes for people who are not there. A particularly bad moment is when he makes big gestures in his apartment, ending with him dropping his pants right before he answers the door. I think that on a stage, with an audience, this will play well. He is being watched on a stage. 

In a film though, he would not be being watched. A film audience is different than a theater audience. As such, who is Lemmon mugging for? Who is he attempting to act for? There is one moment when Scottie startles Jud by appearing in a chicken suit. Scottie is attempting to get Jud to laugh by doing an old routine that he did when Jud was a child. On pretty much every level imaginable, this is a bad, bad scene.

First, it makes Scottie look insane rather than wacky. Second, there is no one to watch Scottie act out this alleged stab at happy memories. A theater audience might be laughing or wincing at the routine. A film audience can only stare. Perhaps in disbelief, perhaps in eyerolls. Third, it brings to mind something that Milton Berle once said about funny costumes in a comedy sketch. Your character comes out in a funny costume. You get the laugh for the sight gag. Then what, Berle asked. You have to continue the scene, with the character in the funny costume. Try as Lemmon, Benson, screenwriter Slade and director Bob Clarke did, you cannot have a dramatic moment when your character is dressed like a chicken.

Jack Lemmon originated the role of Scottie Templeton on Broadway. As such, he should have known the character. I can only hope, only hope, that Lemmon's stage performance was better than his film performance. Scottie Templeton was, I presume, meant as a tragic figure who masked his insecurities with zingers and humorous quips. In Tribute, Scottie Templeton was nothing but an obnoxious jerk. I get what Tribute was going for. Scottie was supposed to be someone who doesn't take life seriously even when confronted with serious matters like reconciliation and death. 

However, Jack Lemmon refused to ever tone down the alleged wackiness. For most of Tribute, Lemmon is a caricature. He is so theatrical and hammy that he never appears to be a real person. Lemmon is playing a character. He is not playing a person. His mugging, his alleged comic one-liners and theatrical moves all might have worked before a live audience (operative word, might). They just never worked here. Tribute wants us to think that so many people loved him, found him irrepressible and the life of the party. I think most people would have found him annoying, idiotic and would have run away from him. Lemmon is so broad and exaggerated throughout Tribute that it makes the few stabs at drama unbelievable. It does not help that, for reasons no one will probably ever be able to explain, Tribute gives us a photo montage of his hospital treatment. 

This is one of the worst performances that I have ever seen from Jack Lemmon. It may be one of the worst performances ever captured on film. I would not be surprised if we discovered that literal bribes were exchanged to get Lemmon his Best Actor Oscar nomination for Tribute. That was the sole nomination Tribute received, and it was one too many.

It soon becomes a battle to see who is worse: Jack Lemmon or Robbie Benson. Benson is so flat and dull as Jud. It almost feels like he opted to be near comatose once he saw how over-the-top Lemmon was going to be. Whenever attempting to do anything: drama, a touch of humor, romance, Robbie Benson was painful to watch. Lemmon attempted to play drama while dressed as a chicken. Benson couldn't play anything.

We can't blame Jack Lemmon's cringeworthy broad and hammy manner for Benson's stiffness. He was equally blank with Kim Cattrall. In their scenes together, Benson communicated nothing. He was saying the words, but there was no emotion to them. Cattrall for her part, might have been a bit rushed in her delivery. However, she actually was decent as Sally, the girl who found Scottie and Jud charming. 

You know that there is a problem when Kim Cattrall is the best performance in a film. 

Lee Remick did what she could with her part. We are supposed to believe that she would willingly go to bed with Scottie despite being in a better and more stable relationship. Again, I think Remick did her best, but it couldn't save her embarrassment. Same for Colleen Dewhurst, woefully underused as Scottie's extremely patient and tolerant doctor. 

At least Remick and Dewhurst didn't show us their boobs the way that Gale Garnett did. There is late in the film some alleged comedy schtick about Scottie's nurse culminating with her taking her top off and popping her breasts out. The comedy, I think, is supposed to come from the nurse really being Hillary the Hooker in disguise. None of it is funny and one just winces at everything in Tribute.

This is, I think, why Tribute is such a horror to sit through. Everything plays like it would on a stage. The chicken dance. The Nursey Nurse Nurse bit. The large apartment set dwarfing the actors. The overall broadness of almost everyone (Robbie Benson being the emotionless exception). It never felt like a real story. It felt like a play. 

Worse is Clark and Slade's decision to have a photographic montage of Scottie in the hospital. Over Kenneth Wannberg's melancholy music, we see pictures that are both wildly comical (Scottie in his hospital bed with a rose in his mouth) and wildly overdramatic (Scottie apparently screaming in pain). Having this montage when having actual film is a choice, as the kids say. 

It was a poor choice, but a choice, nonetheless. 

Tribute was totally schizophrenic. It wanted to be a broad comedy and a serious drama. You can have dramatic and touching moments in a comedy. You can have serious moments in a comedy. You cannot have hammy, over-the-top acting and then demand that the audience cry at a faux father-and-son reconciliation. 

Apart from Lemmon's irrational Oscar nomination, Tribute has We Still Have Time, a pleasant song cowritten and performed by Barry Manilow. The song, like the music, is sad and melancholy. It was meant to evoke the drama behind Scottie's yuks. It instead made the dichotomy more pronounced, almost as I said, schizophrenic. 

At one point, Scottie asks Maggie, "Let me ask you one question love. You don't suppose I'm being a little too much all about the whole thing?". The definite answer is, "Yes. You are being WAY TOO MUCH". Tribute, despite being a Jack Lemmon film which earned him an Oscar nomination, is not remembered. In fact, it is not available on streaming or DVD/Blu-ray (I think I found a VHS tape for sale online). Hopefully, it will never see the light of day, if only to spare Lemmon's memory embarrassment. 

Tribute is worth watching only if you enjoy seeing bad acting. 

No, I will not accept this rose...

DECISION: D-

Peter O'Toole Oscar Nomination Number Seven: An Analysis

PETER O'TOOLE OSCAR NOMINATION NUMBER SEVEN: 

AN ANALYSIS

Here is the thing about Peter O'Toole's seventh Best Actor Oscar nomination. He had absolutely no chance of winning. At the most, at the very most, he had, I think, a one percent chance of winning. I think I'm being generous in giving him even that much of a chance. Separate whether his performance in My Favorite Year was good or not, O'Toole was never going to win for My Favorite Year.

The reasons are pretty simple. First, three of his four fellow Best Actor nominees were up for roles that are now seen as some of their most definitive performances. Dustin Hoffman was nominated for his cross-dressing turn in Tootsie, which is still one of his most memorable roles decades after the film's release. The Verdict is, I think, one of Paul Newman's greatest performances. In fact, many people still erroneously think that Paul Newman won Best Actor for The Verdict when he actually won for The Color of Money. The eventual winner, Ben Kingsley, is seen still as the title character in Gandhi. I think the final nominated performance, Jack Lemmon in Missing, is not as well-remembered as the other aforementioned three. More people, I would argue, remember Lemmon for Some Like it Hot or The Odd Couple than for Missing. I think Lemmon's turn in Dad is better remembered than his performance in Missing. Yet, I digress.

Second, O'Toole's competitors were in mostly dramas. Tootsie is, I would argue, a dramedy. While there are moments of humor in the film, I think Tootsie was using comedy to make important, dare I say, dramatic, points. Even if I were to say that Tootsie was a straight-up comedy, that would not have helped O'Toole. The Academy is extremely parsimonious when it comes to recognizing comedic performances. Tootsie was a comedy but one with elements of drama. My Favorite Year had no such aspirations. It was a pure romp and never pretended to be anything else. Comedic performances almost never win. My Favorite Year was not going to be the one to break the mold. 

Third and I think more importantly, O'Toole's fellow nominees were all nominated for films that were nominated for multiple Oscars. Every single one of his competitors was in a Best Picture nominee (with E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial being the final Best Picture nominee). Gandhi was the most nominated film for 1982 with eleven nominations in total. Tootsie followed close with ten nominations (though two were in the same category of Supporting Actress). The Verdict had five nominations, and Missing had four nominations. Amidst all those 30 nominations combined for his competition, comes little old Peter O'Toole for My Favorite Year. 

O'Toole was My Favorite Year's sole Academy Award nomination. 

It is pretty much impossible for anyone to win an Oscar if it is that film's sole nomination. It is not completely impossible, but it is extremely difficult. For anyone to win an Oscar on that film's sole nomination, particularly in the acting category, other factors are needed to get the win. Take Julianne Moore's win for Still Alice. Moore was that film's sole nomination but her fifth career nomination overall. I think there was an "overdue" narrative for Moore that got her the win. She is a well-respected, well-regarded and well-liked actress who had lost four times before. Still Alice was, to my mind, a de facto Lifetime Achievement Oscar. The Academy could pat itself on the back, tell itself it had done right by Moore, and then move on.

I should note that as of this writing, Julianne Moore has yet to receive another Oscar nomination. 

The best or worst recent example is Glenn Close's nomination for The Wife. This was Close's seventh nomination. She was predicted to win easily, basically in a landslide, for The Wife. Unfortunately, people let sentiment blind them. The Wife received one nomination, that being Close's Best Actress nod. Her competition had multiple Oscar nominations: ten for both Roma and the eventual Best Actress winner The Favourite, eight for A Star is Born and three for Can You Ever Forgive Me? This meant that, despite the "inevitable win" narrative for Close, more people were looking at the other films than looking at The Wife. Moreover, the "inevitable win" narrative, I've long argued, doomed Close's chances. So many voters, convinced that Close was going to win anyway, opted to vote for other candidates. That in turn led to Close actually losing precisely because basically no one was voting for her owing to the idea that everyone was voting for her. 

Such was not the case for Peter O'Toole. There was no "overdue" narrative for O'Toole despite this being his seventh nomination. There was no groundswell of support for him or for My Favorite Year. That support instead was going to Paul Newman. Newman was, coincidentally, on his seventh overall career nomination: six for acting and one for producing Rachel, Rachel. He was an extremely popular and beloved member of the industry. The Verdict was a critical and commercial hit. If anyone was going to ride the "overdue" narrative to an Oscar win, it was going to be Paul Newman, not Peter O'Toole. It was to where, years later, Ben Kingsley said that just before the winner was announced, he turned to his then-wife and said, "Ready to stand up for Paul Newman?". 

As such, one can see why Peter O'Toole was never going to win for My Favorite Year. The bigger question is why and how Paul Newman lost. That is for another time. However, let us look at the nominated performances and see how and where Peter O'Toole would rank. 

First, the Best Actor nominees of 1982 in alphabetical order. The nominees were:

Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie

Ben Kingsley in Gandhi

Jack Lemmon in Missing

Paul Newman in The Verdict

Peter O'Toole in My Favorite Year

It is a sign of how even Peter O'Toole knew that he had no chance of winning that O'Toole was the sole Best Actor nominee to not appear at the ceremony. Now, could there have been a way for Peter O'Toole to somehow defy the odds and pull one of the greatest upsets in Oscar history?

Absolutely not. The battle between two nominees was simply too strong for O'Toole to overcome. Why not three or four? I think that Dustin Hoffman had pretty much very little chance of winning Best Actor. Tootsie is one of his most remembered roles. The film was a financial and critical hit. It received ten Oscar nominations, the second highest number that year.

It ultimately won exactly one, for Jessica Lange in Supporting Actress. That suggests to me that despite the great love Tootsie had among audiences and Academy members, there was little support for it. Tootsie was a successful and popular comedy. Gandhi was "an important film". I suspect that Academy members may have felt that Tootsie was not "serious enough" to merit Oscar recognition. It also may have thought that it got enough of a reward financially, so it didn't need more with Oscar wins.

Lange's win was, I think, not a consolation prize for Tootsie itself. It was a consolation prize for Jessica Lange. Lange was nominated in both Supporting and Lead Actress for Tootsie and Frances respectively. I think that unlike Best Actor, the Best Actress race was pretty much a given for Meryl Streep in Sophie's Choice. I do not know if any of Streep's fellow nominees: Missing's Sissy Spacek, Debra Winger's An Officer and a Gentleman or Julie Andrews' Victor/Victoria would have mounted a serious threat to Streep. One thing was certain: Jessica Lange wasn't winning Best Actress for Frances. Therefore, here was a chance to kill two birds with one stone. You could reward Lange for losing Best Actress while throwing Tootsie a bone. 

O'Toole and Hoffman lost because My Favorite Year and Tootsie were comedies. Interestingly enough, both expressed similar views in a roundabout way. As swashbuckling movie star Alan Swann says in My Favorite Year, "Dying is easy. Comedy is hard". Reflecting years later on Tootsie, Dustin Hoffman once started crying, commenting that he did not see it as a comedy. "Comedy is a serious business", he said. 

Why then do I dismiss Jack Lemmon's chances to win? He was a two-time Oscar winner on his eighth nomination for Missing. His performance in the film is a strong piece of dramatic acting. Lemmon sometimes deliberately underplays scenes. He does not go for big moments. Instead, some of the most effective work he does in Missing is when he is quiet and still. However, as stated, he was already a two-time Oscar winner on his eighth nomination. Why reward him with a third when you had three other men who were not even on their first win?

Curiously, this is the third and final time that Peter O'Toole and Jack Lemmon faced off for the Best Actor Oscar. Both had been nominated two years earlier for The Stunt Man and Tribute respectively. O'Toole's first Best Actor nomination for Lawrence of Arabia also was against Jack Lemmon, who was on his fourth nomination for Days of Wine and Roses.  

This is also the second and last time that O'Toole and Dustin Hoffman would face off. They had battled it out in 1969 for Goodbye, Mr. Chips and Midnight Cowboy respectively. O'Toole, Lemmon and Hoffman all lost when they competed against each other. 

So, the Best Actor race was down to two men: Paul Newman and Ben Kingsley. Almost all indicators suggested that Paul Newman was going to, at long last, win his very first Oscar. This was, as mentioned, his sixth acting nomination without a win. The Verdict was a hit film. Newman's performance is an acting masterclass. The Verdict is considered one of if not Newman's finest hour.

Many people might have focused on the number "six" as in acting Oscar nominations for Paul Newman. They might have even focused on "seven" if they remembered his Best Picture nomination. They should have focused on two other set of numbers. 

11-5 and 8-0. 

Those are the respective number of nominations and wins for Gandhi and The Verdict respectively.

Gandhi had double the nominations of The Verdict. Gandhi was sweeping the awards while The Verdict was going empty-handed. Gandhi and The Verdict faced off in three categories: Picture, Director and Actor. Gandhi won each one. It also won Best Original Screenplay while The Verdict lost Best Adapted Screenplay. Gandhi was, as stated previously, seen as an "important film". The Verdict was seen as "a very good film". Importance trumped good. 

Sentiment and "overdue" was no match for the Gandhi juggernaut. Paul Newman got crushed by the sheer massiveness of Gandhi. I think there was a slight version of the "Glenn Close Effect". Perhaps voters expected Newman to win, so they could switch over to someone else. I do not think, though, that such a thing was big enough to get Kingsley in and Newman out. There was no big rally for Kingsley's performance. I think many voters were just checking off the Gandhi box no matter what category.

In retrospect, some of Gandhi's win in some technical categories seems downright baffling. Gandhi won Best Costume Design, Best Art Direction and Best Cinematography. I do not think people these forty-plus years later are still talking about Gandhi's Art Direction. I'm not even sure that they were talking about Gandhi's Art Direction then. 

Gandhi's only losses were in Original Score, Sound and Makeup. The first two went to E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, a film whose music is still recognized. The third went to Quest for Fire. Granted, it might not be well-remembered now. However, Quest for Fire is a film about early cavemen. It was also one of only two Best Makeup nominees, meaning it had only Gandhi to compete with. Fantasy makeup tends to win over historical epic makeup. Case in point: Men in Black winning Best Makeup over Titanic.

Ultimately, Peter O'Toole was never going to win on his seventh Best Actor nomination for My Favorite Year. Paul Newman losing was also not a surprise given Gandhi's dominance. Sadly, Peter O'Toole would go once again unrewarded, though at least here it makes sense on how it happened.

And now, my Ranking of the Five Nominees:

Paul Newman

Ben Kingsley

Peter O'Toole

Jack Lemmon

Dustin Hoffman

Personally, I think each of the nominated performances are excellent. I do not have an issue with any of the nominations. I would not be upset if any of them had ended up winning. I wavered quite a bit between Kingsley and O'Toole for second place. My heart is with O'Toole's wonderfully hilarious turn as Alan Swann, this crazed thespian who utters one of the greatest lines in film, "I'm not an actor, I'm a MOVIE STAR!". However, whatever one may think of Gandhi's Oscar-winning screenplay (another odd win in my opinion), people do still remember Ben Kingsley's performance as the Mahatma. It is a fine performance on a technical level. I cannot say that Kingsley was a bad win.

I can and do say that Paul Newman gave the performance of the year in The Verdict. It was raw, heartbreaking and heart-rousing. His evolution from deeply self-loathing and drunken to slowly, steadily recovering his humanity is an astonishing turn. I think in any other year, Paul Newman would have won easily. Sadly, the Indian lawyer taking the Raj down also took down the redeemed lawyer.

Jack Lemmon gets knocked down because I think most people do not remember Missing or his performance in it. More people remember Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie than they do Lemmon in Missing. So why then do I have Hoffman last? I think it has to do with the fact that in some ways, Dustin Hoffman was playing a version of his public persona as a Method actor who can also be a demanding diva. 

Why do I have Peter O'Toole smack dab in the middle? I think it is because "comedy is hard". O'Toole does have a couple of nice, quiet, dramatic moments amidst the hilarity and hijinks. On a technical level, I think Peter O'Toole's performance is solid. However, both Kingsley and especially Newman edge him out.

Paul Newman should have won Best Actor for The Verdict over Ben Kingsley for Gandhi. 

In conclusion, the Academy made the right choice in not awarding Peter O'Toole the Best Actor Oscar on his seventh Oscar nomination.

Missing (1982): A Review

MISSING

The Chilean coup that overthrew socialist President Salvador Allende and led by General Augusto Pinochet occurred on September 11, 1973. This curious historical coincidence has led some to refer to the coup as "the other September 11th". I think that is a disservice to compare the events in 1973 to those of September 11th, 2001. That, however, does not diminish the horrors that those murdered in the immediate aftermath of the coup d'etat suffered. Missing chronicles the brutality of the 1973 coup through the experiences of one family. It is a well-acted, directed and written film that one remembers long after the credits roll.

American expatriates Charlie and Beth Horman (John Shea and Sissy Spacek) are mixed about living in Chile. Charlie, who is working on an animated film and translates for a left-wing newspaper, wants to stay. Housewife Beth would rather leave. The constant shooting around her, the curfews, the overall stress and terror of the situation is wearing on her. After visiting some friends, Beth misses the bus and is forced to live out a night of terror, hiding from the military when she fails to get home by curfew.

Her failing to make curfew and hiding on the streets may have ultimately saved Beth's life. She returns to their home to find it in shambles, ransacked and Charlie now missing. In desperation, she makes contact with her estranged father-in-law, Edmund (Jack Lemmon). Ed, a devoted Christian Scientist, has never been supportive of his son and daughter-in-law's liberal to radical politics. Arriving in a militarized and paranoid Santiago, Chile, Ed and Beth are civil but opposed when it comes to several matters.

Ed, having already worked with government official in the U.S., believes that the American embassy can help locate Charlie. Beth has worked with both American and Chilean officials. She has found them ranging from indifferent to downright hostile. Ed also holds Beth and Charlie partially responsible for Charlie's disappearance.

As Ed and Beth join forces, the extent of what happened to both Charlie and Chile becomes clearer and more alarming. Charlie in flashbacks finds retired and current American military officers in the resort town of Vina del Mar. Charlie, who was forced to stay overnight in Vina del Mar with his platonic friend Terry (Melonie Mayron), soon starts wondering why they are there at all. Ed and Beth manage to find one of Charlie's friends, David Holloway (Keith Szarabajka). Holloway was one of two last Americans swept up in early raids. He was taken to the National Stadium along another of Charlie's colleagues, Frank Teruggi (Joe Regalbuto). David lived.

The week keeps going. Ed soon starts understanding how the American government will be less than helpful if not downright complicit. He will see just how tied they are to what has happened both to Chile and to Charlie. Eventually, the truth about Charlie Horman is found.

Missing does something that makes it more effective. Under Costa-Gavras' direction, the film has no big scenes, no great drama to push the story forward. Far from it, as Missing is a surprisingly quiet film. Even an earthquake late in the film does not build up to something epic.

In that scene, as Ed and Beth along with the other alarmed hotel guests attempt to walk out, they are warned not to. One couple, cradling their child, ignores the dual proclamations of curfew and the hotel's building integrity. We hear the gunshots coming from outside. While we are relieved to see them return, almost comically, back inside, Missing shows us exactly what kind of state the Hormans are in.

In fact, we rarely see many acts of overt violence. Most of the terror is implied, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. When David and Frank are taken to the National Stadium, we overhear this exchange in Spanish.

"Where do you work?", a soldier asks one of the prisoners who has come up to his table.

"The Senate", the man replies, surprisingly calmly.

"What do you do there?", the soldier asks.

"I'm a Senator", is the reply.

Throughout Missing, the horrors of the junta retribution are visible but not dwelt on. We see the bloody corpses on the street. As Ed and Beth go to another hospital, a group calls out for everyone to see something outside the window. Everyone can then see another human corpse being carried by the current. The matter-of-fact manner to Missing makes things more chilling. It is to where when Ed and Beth are told that there will be an extra charge to send Charlie's body home that needs to be paid immediately, the viewer feels that mix of disbelief and rage.

Jack Lemmon and Sissy Spacek received Lead Actor and Actress Oscar nominations for Missing. Both, I think, did excellent work. Lemmon makes Ed Horman a very calm and rational man in a chaotic and irrational world. Often, he underplays scenes. He can get angry, most often at Beth and by extension Charlie. However, as Missing continues, we see this steady man slowly crumble. 

When quietly informed by someone of Charlie's true fate, Lemmon does not start wailing or having a big breakdown. Instead, we see Ed struggling between accepting what he now knows and the truth of the wild goose chase that he was purposefully sent on. One of the hardest moments in Missing is when he and Beth finally are allowed to go to the National Stadium, which has become an unofficial prison/detention center. The hope to find Charlie fading, Ed at first cannot bring himself to use the public address system he's been permitted to. Beth calls out for Charlie. Ed then can muster the courage to call out for his son. Given all that we have seen, we should know that the young man running to the foreground is not Charlie. In Lemmon's face, however, we see that faint hope he carries given some life. 

Sissy Spacek does fine work as Beth. She is more openly cynical about American involvement both in the coup and in functionaries being terribly unhelpful. However, she also sees that Ed is not dumb. He is at heart a good, decent man who holds to his shattering ideals. He can be dismissive of Charlie's works and views. He also, Beth sees by the end, is a father who does love his son.

Missing, in a curious way, shows that Ed still has not given up on his American idealism. As he and Beth finally leave Chile, Ed is visibly but quietly angry at the American embassy flunkies. "I just thank God we live in a country where we can still put people like you in jail", he tells them. Many people might scoff at that idea. However, I see it as revealing that Ed Horman still has faith despite the cruelty of it all. This is a man who amidst all the chaos both external and internal managed to find time to visit a Christian Science Reading Room. Faith, both religious and political, is important to Ed. Missing shows that despite all the horrors he has seen and endured, his moral compass is still solid. Ed does not shrink from trying to stop violent acts, even if it is dangerous. Ed's morality makes him heroic and tragic.

This ability to keep things grounded and simple may be why Missing won Best Adapted Screenplay. Costa-Gavras and Donald Stewart adapted Thomas Hauser's nonfiction book The Execution of Charles Horman: An American Sacrifice into a somber, intelligent film that keeps a metaphorical human face on this overwhelming tragedy. Costa-Gavras did similar work in his Oscar-nominated directing. There is nothing flashy in Missing. When Frank Turoggi is found, the camera goes first to Beth and Ed, and then slowly rises upwards, to see the other spread out corpses. Often in Missing, no one has to say a word to know just how shocking things are.

One aspect in Missing that was not Oscar-nominated was Vangelis' score. Missing, particularly its gentle, somber main theme, is haunting, elegant and moving. Like much in the film, the Main Theme from Missing serves as counterpoint to the brutality of the situation.

Missing is a strong film on all levels. It is more than a chronicle of one person caught up in a shocking situation. It is an ode to how small figures can still display great courage even when facing massive odds.   

DECISION: B+

Days of Wine and Roses (1962): A Review

DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES

This, I imagine, will be one of the most unpopular reviews I will ever give, because I am going to bash a film hailed as a classic, a searing portrait of an important issue.  Having seen Days of Wine and Roses twice, I still cannot figure out why this film is held in such high regard.  There are good things in it, but I simply am mystified by why I'm suppose to genuflect before it.  I find Days of Wine and Roses a camp film, the alcoholic version of Reefer Madness, only with more polish and a lovely theme.

Joe Clay (Jack Lemmon) is a public relations man who finds his job involves procuring pretty young girls for an Arab prince.  He mistakes Kirsten Arnesen (Lee Remick) for one of our 'good-time girls' when she is really the secretary to Mr. Trayner (Jack Albertson), head of the agency.

Joe is essentially a functioning alcoholic, one for whom drinking is part of the job and who takes a couple every night.  He is hot-and-cold with Kirsten, one moment insinuating she is Trayner's whore, the other asking her to dinner.  Despite slapping him for suggesting her backside is what got her the job, she agrees to have dinner with him.  Unlike Joe, however, Kirsten does not drink.  Joe notes her passion for chocolate, and gets her a Brandy Alexander, which she admits to liking.

A whirlwind courtship leads to a quick marriage, so quick that they spring it on Kirsten's father, Ellis (Charles Bickford), owner of a nursery in northern California.  The Clays soon have a baby, but Debbie is essentially their second child. 

The bottle is their first.

Joe has no problem coming home slushed out of his mind, and despite her own misgivings and the need to keep her breast milk clean, Kirsten soon joins him in boozing it up.  It isn't long before both turn into raving drunks, something that everyone but them seems to notice.  Joe's work starts suffering, and even after getting a smaller account he still keeps hitting the bottle.  As if to do him one better, Kirsten spends all her time drinking and eventually ends up setting their apartment on fire.

You'd think that the dual hits of setting your home ablaze and losing your job would be wake-up calls for them, but you haven't counted on how blind, self-absorbed and self-destructive they are.  Joe goes from one bad job to another, their finances a wreck.  It isn't until Joe catches a glimpse of himself in a bar window that he realizes they are both bums, being destroyed by drink.  Kirsten, who has gone from teetotaler to raving lush, refuses to entertain the notion there is anything wrong.

However, both find refuge at Mr. Armesen's nursery, where they dry out and are beginning to repair their lives.  However, dear old Joe decides that they have been so good that 'one little drop' won't hurt them, sneaking in two bottles in his pant legs.  That one little drop turns into a drunken orgy, with Joe going berserk trying to find the third bottle he hid in the greenhouse: fourth pot, third table, fifth row.  Kirsten, again apparently in an effort to top him, storms into her father's room demanding a kiss and shouting about how she does not want to be lonely.

End result: Joe finds himself in an insane asylum, wrapped up in a straight-jacket.  To help him is Jim Hungerford (Jack Klugman), from Alcoholics Anonymous.  Kirsten still won't consider the possibility that she has a problem, while Joe is more willing to go to AA meetings.  While he is working to repair himself, Kirsten is out boozing and carousing, disappearing for days on end.  Eventually, Joe finds her in a hotel room, where despite his efforts at sobriety, he falls off the wagon in a big, big way, ending by attempting to rob a liquor store that just closed.

If I understand the film, the store owner forced Joe to drink some more and once again, Joe finds himself tied to a bed, a near-raving lunatic.  It looks, however, like this time he might finally get himself together.  Following AA principles, he goes to Pop Armesen to pay back his debt.  Mr. Armesen blames Joe for getting his little girl to be a booze-licking slut, and is heartbroken at how far Kirsten's fallen.  Ultimately, Joe finds himself sober, and Kirsten tries to come back, two days sober but still unwilling to admit she has a problem, let alone stop drinking.  Joe makes it clear he'll take her back, but not if alcohol is going to be part of the deal.  As she walks away, he sees her, the neon light of the nearby bar taunting him.


I think my problem with Days of Wine and Roses is that the whole thing seems so wildly exaggerated, almost as if it were a spoof. J.P. Miller, adapting his teleplay to the screen, seems to suggest that alcohol can turn a teetotaler into a sex-crazed nut. When both are drinking themselves mad at the nursery, I got the very strange sense that boozing it up would lead Kirsten to want to have sex with her own father!

Her storming of Mr. Armesen's bedroom, where she demands a kiss and screams at her daughter to stay away from her 'daddy' has this almost outlandish suggestion of incest, as if Kirsten's alcoholism causes her to go bonkers and screw anything with a penis. 

Joe's alcoholic frolics aren't any better: twice we see that alcoholism leads to near-insanity.  Remember, he's forced into a straight-jacket at one point and held down by straps in what could be another mental hospital at another. 

I am not suggesting that alcoholism does not cause respectable people, even those who drink socially, to become so out-of-control that they end up attempting robbery and accidentally burning down their home.  I am, however, wondering if alcoholism, as portrayed in Days of Wine and Roses, seems to be a portrait of such extremes that it almost is comical.

Again, I think on Reefer Madness, and how that film's portrayal of marijuana use is now mocked as wildly exaggerated to the point of being hysterically funny: from one puff we slip into sex-crazed murderous insanity.  I'm puzzled by how the same people who ridicule Reefer Madness' take on pot smoking can turn around and say that Days of Wine and Roses, with its tale of unhinged, out-of-control boozing leads to carousing and even a little bit of potential parent-child sexual desire, is a rational portrait of alcohol consumption.


I think that while this almost bonkers view of an extreme form of alcoholism is part of my issue with Days of Wine and Roses, I think a bigger part is Jack Lemmon.  As I understand it, this film is meant to showcase Lemmon as a great dramatic actor.  However, I found that Lemmon was more silly in those 'dramatic' moments, such as when he goes berserk looking for that third bottle.

It does not help that Lemmon for much of the early part of Days of Wine and Roses tries to play things for laughs, giving the same anxiety-meets-flummoxed performance he gave in The Apartment.  It's almost as if Days of Wine and Roses were a sort of sequel to The Apartment, with Joe Clay being similar in manner to C.C. 'Bud' Baxter.  Both are 'respectable' middle-class employees with career crisis in their efforts to rise to the top.  As much as Lemmon tried to do drama, and he did try, he also could not escape trying to make things 'funny' and forcing it.

From his insults and mugging at Kirsten to his 'striptease' to show off the booze, Lemmon just struck me as thinking Days of Wine and Roses was a comedy.  I simply could not take him seriously in what is meant to be a portrait of an already-functioning alcoholic slipping further into chaos and dragging his wife down with him.

I however, found Remick to have been much better.  Apart from when she appears to want to rape her father, Remick's performance was strong.  The haunted portrayal of this former non-drinker slipping into the grips of full-on alcoholic hysteria is a sad one, a bit frightening.  Whenever she is on screen, from the denials of her problem to her desperate pleas 'as a woman' to her brittleness and fears of a sober life, Remick rarely hits a wrong note.

I would argue the script fails her in her constant denials of a problem, though mercifully we never got that 'I don't have a problem! YOU have a problem!' speech.

Bickford, the only one recreating his role from the original teleplay, has a small role but a good performance as the father who loves his daughter but can't stop her from self-destruction.

Blake Edwards sometimes has fine visual moments and is unsparing in how he shows the results of unchecked drinking, but he still seems to have too many comic moments intrude.  I still wonder whether scenes that lengthen the film, such as the 'roach kingdom' date and Joe's office meetings, could not have been cut to shorten a rather long film.

If there is anything good in Days of Wine and Roses, it's the theme song, one that mixes romance with melancholy.  It's not a surprise that Days of Wine and Roses is good: music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Johnny Mercer.  The team that the year before gave the world Moon River wasn't about to botch up the job this time round, and despite my dislike for Days of Wine and Roses, I cannot argue against the loveliness of its theme song.

I feel a touch guilty in disliking Days of Wine and Roses, finding it all bordering on comical.  Alcoholism is an important subject, and anything that brings attention to this illness should be commended.  However, no matter how hard I tried to think well of it, I cannot shake the idea that the whole thing seems so exaggerated a portrait of alcoholism.

Finally, as a side note, I cannot understand why so many great singers from Frank Sinatra to Ella Fitzgerald insist on making Days of Wine and Roses an upbeat, jolly number. To me, it's the equivalent of singing Make 'Em Laugh like a dirge. Given its somber subject and wistful, melancholic quality, I think it should be a slower, sadder number.

Apart from the song, I still cannot bring myself to hail Days of Wine and Roses as a great film.  May be blasphemy, but I can't drink to it.

DECISION: D+