When I rose to my film-buff duty a few minutes before 5:30 a.m. Tuesday, Jan. 23 - the hour when the 2006 Academy Award nominations would be made public - I did so with more dread than anticipation. During the year-end influx of "for your consideration" screener DVDs, I'd begun to fear that this would be one of those Academy years bearing scant resemblance to the one I'd spent at the movies.
The films I most esteemed had been getting the cold shoulder. Clint Eastwood's brave, complex, even radical "Flags of Our Fathers," although garnering mostly respectful reviews, had been counted out as a decisive box-office failure in the shadow of an increasingly unpopular war. As for the late Robert Altman's "A Prairie Home Companion," Hollywood sentimentality rarely extends to posthumous Oscars, and the sheer joy-in-creation of this warm, bounteous movie led it to be mistaken in some circles as somehow "minor."
Especially depressing were the nominations for the Directors Guild Awards, usually a highly predictive slate. There were only two candidates I could endorse - Martin Scorsese for "The Departed" and Stephen Frears, "The Queen" - and three (well, four) that seemed undeserving: Alejandro González Iñárritu (who had established estimable credentials in prior years with "Amores Perros" and "21 Grams") for the hollow "universality" of "Babel"; the neophyte team, Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, responsible for the very entertaining but lightweight "Little Miss Sunshine"; and Bill Condon, the writer-first, director-second personage behind "Dreamgirls," a movie I hadn't seen. Nothing for Altman, Guillermo del Toro (the dazzlingly original "Pan's Labyrinth"), Alfonso Cuarón (the hyperkinetic "Children of Men"), Paul Greengrass (New York Film Critics and National Society of Film Critics winner for "United 93") or Eastwood, who by then had checked in with "Letters from Iwo Jima," an equally daring companion piece to "Flags." Did the directors guild have so little regard for depth or scale of achievement in their own profession?
Then too, I thought I had scoped out a perfect storm of dubious enthusiasms Hollywood might be swept up in. There was Edward Zwick bidding fair to inherit the mantle of Stanley Kramer for the cliché-ridden, sounding-brass exposé of international bad faith, "Blood Diamond." As director of "The Good Shepherd," Robert DeNiro demonstrated little aptitude for sustaining a narrative over the deeply glum, grim, 2-hour-40-minute history of the C.I.A. as Skull and Bones conspiracy, but he had Hollywood's collectively liberal susceptibilities and a large, fine cast going for him. The high-toned speciousness of "Notes on a Scandal," a half-baked occasion for two divas (Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett) to gobble up the screen, seemed to be wowing people who really should know better. And if "Flags of Our Fathers" could be discounted largely for failing to make money, could the widely deplored, box-office-topping second installment of "Pirates of the Caribbean" be sanctioned - indeed, inflated as part two of a "Lord of the Rings"-style phenomenon?
A week or so before the nominations I did finally catch up with "Dreamgirls," which appeared to be edging "Babel" as front-runner for best picture. Musicals are not my genre, I freely admit, and Bill Condon had written the screenplay for 2002's "Chicago." But I preferred to attribute the egregiousness of that picture to director Rob Marshall; on his own recognizance, Condon had proved a sympathetic talent with "Gods and Monsters" and "Kinsey." OK, give it a chance.
I enjoyed "Dreamgirls" more than I'd been expecting, for a half-hour or so. The well-worn premise of a trio of game gals rising from amateur status by singing their hearts out is hard to resist; the monumental cultural and artistic importance of Motown surely warrants a decent movie salute; and Eddie Murphy and "American Idol" champion Jennifer Hudson were just as terrific as everyone had said they were. But then the movie went off the cliff, with facile allegorical cutaways to civil-rights-era mayhem, rhythm-less camerawork and editing, and storytelling so perfunctory that it seemed less a film than memoes from a series of story conferences. I remember a long-ago, work-in-progress screening of Francis Coppola's "One from the Heart" at the Guild 45th where occasionally a title card announced a planned scene that hadn't been shot yet; the latter three-quarters of "Dreamgirls" plays like that - a series of PLACE SCENE HERE indications without any real development of interaction, character, drama. It is sooooo bad. (And don't even try to guess what Jamie Foxx, in the Berry Gordy part, is supposed to be doing in the final scene.)
And this was the front-runner for the Oscar?
Well, actually, no. As the nominations in the top categories were announced two Tuesdays ago, it took me a while to register that ... "Dreamgirls" ... wasn't ... getting any. Yes, Hudson and Murphy are up for awards in the supporting categories, and yes, that's as it should be. Yes, "Dreamgirls" boasts eight nominations, more than any other film - but three of them are for songs (indistinguishable from one another, like the tunes in "Phantom of the Opera"). But in a truly insane, sweep-ready year there would have been mindless nods to Jamie Foxx and Beyoncé Knowles in the lead-acting division. Didn't happen. Nor were there nominations for Condon as screenwriter or director. And as every Oscar headline would proclaim for the rest of the day and week, none for the film itself as best picture.
The front-runner for the Oscar didn't get nominated. Meanwhile, in from the cold came Clint Eastwood as a best-director candidate and "Letters from Iwo Jima" for picture and screenplay. ("Letters" had won a number of critics-group awards - and a Golden Globe for best film in a foreign language!) Although "Little Miss Sunshine" - this year's anointed sleeper hit, "the little movie that could" - got plenty of Academy love, its directors were not put forward as coequals of anybody who did get nominated. And interesting discrepancies showed up. As my friend Jim Emerson pointed out, not a single best-picture nominee was nominated for its cinematography - as if the camera were not a crucial factor in cinematic excellence! Moreover, with only one exception, none of the putative five best pictures has a performer in contention for lead-acting honors.
In short, Oscar night 2006 (even if it occurs in 2007) shapes up as an agreeably suspenseful occasion. There can't be a sweep. And in most cases, regardless of personal favorites that might have been omitted, the nominees are virtually all worthy candidates, so it should be hard to work up outrage over the final outcomes.
Another friend, one of those 6,000some Academy voters, makes a useful point. Unlike the various critics groups, in which many ballots are sometimes necessary because the winner must be endorsed by a majority of the voters as well as amassing a plurality of points, Oscars are doled out on a plurality-only basis. It's my friend's intuition that the early enthusiasm for "Babel," dating from its showcasing at the mostly buzz-free Toronto International Film Festival back in September, is waning, and that the sneakily late-arriving Clint Eastwood (who similarly slipped in with a masterpiece, "Million Dollar Baby," in the final days of December 2004) will eke out another win with "Letters from Iwo Jima." All that that movie - or any other nominated film - needs is, say, 21 percent of the votes versus 19-point-something percent for each of the other contenders. And "front-running" be damned.
Let's carve the bird:
Best Picture: I've characterized "Babel" as the "Crash" of 2006, and "Crash" itself beat four better movies to take the 2005 trophy. "Babel" doesn't have the L.A. elements (race, showbiz, murderously vehicular lifestyle) to exert the same kind of hometown existential pull as "Crash," but its thin, contrived allegory of How We Are Connected Without Being Able To Understand One Another surely sets the tone for a fatuous acceptance speech. My pick would be "Letters from Iwo Jima" even though I think the unnominated "Flags of Our Fathers" is the more impressive achievement (voters these days find it easier to be moved by Japanese soldiers in uniform than Americans in uniform). "The Departed" seems a mite hand-me-down - as reworking of the Hong Kong trilogy "Infernal Affairs" and retread of higher Scorsese achievements - to seal the deal as best picture, and "Little Miss Sunshine" is outclassed. But it may be that, for all-around solidity, respectability and craftsmanship, "The Queen" will rule.
Best Director: Has to be Martin Scorsese for "The Departed." Over nearly two-and-a-half hours the movie never lets down for a nanosecond, and that should count, yes? More determinatively, this is the time to make Scorsese at long last the winner so many people have wanted him to be, both when he deserved it and, more recently, when he didn't. Does Clint Eastwood deserve it even more? Yes, but he has two directing Oscars already. Stephen Frears, a very uneven filmmaker, did a beautiful job this time out ("The Queen"). Likewise Paul Greengrass, who avoided every temptation to easy, manipulative effects on "United 93." But for "Babel"'s Alejandro Gonzalez Inrritu, it's the wrong occasion.
Best Actor in a Leading Role: Why babble about Brad Pitt in "Babel" being overlooked? Ben Affleck ("Hollywoodland") and Matt Damon ("The Good Shepherd" and "The Departed") were better than Brad, and they, too, got overlooked. Damon's "Departed" costar Leonardo DiCaprio is nominated but, in one of those sideways moves Oscar sometimes teases us with, for his work in "Blood Diamond"; it's good work even if the movie's not. There's always one nominee whose film I haven't seen at this point, and this time it's Will Smith in "The Pursuit of Happyness." Ryan Gosling is superb in "Half Nelson," but unless the two top contenders split the vote enough to let him come up the middle, it's gonna be either Forest Whitaker for his world-straddling Idi Amin in "The Last King of Scotland" or Peter O'Toole for his twinkling twilight triumph as an aged actor gaga over a teenager in "Venus." I'm hoping to hear them call out Peter O'Toole, but Whitaker hasn't lost any awards contest yet. But why, oh why, no Sacha Baron Cohen for "Borat!"
Best Actress in a Leading Role: Anyone other than Helen Mirren as/in "The Queen" will be a royal scandal. My second choice would be Kate Winslet in "Little Children." Meryl Streep is deliciously funny in "The Devil Wears Prada" (but better than that in "A Prairie Home Companion" - a stellar performance in an ensemble film). Judi Dench is also fun in a character-you-love-to-hate turn in "Notes on a Scandal," and it's nice to see that Penelope Cruz could be nominated for "Volver" without the usual obligatory nods to Pedro Almodovar elsewhere. More deserving than some of these, and unnominated: Maggie Gyllenhaal, "Sherrybaby."
Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Mark Wahlberg, as the righteous, raging state cop in "The Departed," was the only member nominated out of an incandescent cast (over Oscar fave Jack Nicholson, yet), and I'd love to see him take it. Jackie Earle Haley, riveting as the sympathetic yet freaky accused child molester of "Little Children," has comeback magic in his corner. It's probably going to be Eddie Murphy for "Dreamgirls," savoring a rare moment of respectability. But don't count out Alan Arkin, who makes something finer of his foxy-grandpa role in "Little Miss Sunshine" than the role entails. Do, I hope, count out "Blood Diamond"'s Djimon Hounsou, whose nobility number is getting old. Sadly omitted: Leslie Phillips as O'Toole's pal in "Venus"; Adam Beach as Ira Hayes, "Flags of Our Fathers."
Best Actress in a Supporting Role: No power on earth can keep this award from Jennifer Hudson in "Dreamgirls," and none should. Also nominated: Adriana Barraza, "Babel"; Cate Blanchett, "Notes on a Scandal"; little Abigail Breslin, "Little Miss Sunshine"; and Rinko Kikuchi, "Babel." My top vote in this category would go to Vera Farmiga, "The Departed"; unnominated.
Best Screenplay, Original: Apart from Helen Mirren, the other surefire award for "The Queen" would seem to be Peter Morgan's for a meticulous screenplay that dexterously tells a complicated story spread across several different zones of public and private reality and involving a host of finely shaded characterizations. The screenplay of "Letters from Iwo Jima," by newcomer Iris Yamashita, strikes me as the weakest element of that film, whose most effective material was devised, if not written, by director Eastwood and star Ken Watanabe. Also nominated are Guillermo del Toro, whose achievement in "Pan's Labyrinth" is more a matter of visionary direction than writing; Guillermo Arriaga, a very clever fellow (v. "Amores Perros," "21 Grams" and "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada") who with "Babel" fatally pushes form into formula; and Michael Arndt for the likable "Little Miss Sunshine." Most glaring omission: Hanif Kureishi for "Venus."
Best Screenplay, Adaptation: William Monahan's dialogue for "The Departed" is exhilaratingly fierce and funny. To categorize the largely improvised "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan" as having a screenplay seems like a stretch, but it's one hilarious movie. Also nominated: "Little Children" (my number-two vote here), "Children of Men" and "Notes on a Scandal."
As for those non-best picture nominees put up for Best Achievement in Cinematography, I'd roll with Emmanuel Lubezki's work on "Children of Men" or Guillermo Navarra's on "Pan's Labyrinth," while wishing the cinematography branch would consider considering the hi-def video beauties of "Miami Vice" and "A Prairie Home Companion."
We'll know all the answers starting at 5 p.m. Sunday, Feb. 25, on KOMO-4.[[In-content Ad]]
