Act of Valor

Act of Valor can’t be looked at like other films, as it fits in its own created category. It’s the best film about Navy SEALs starring Navy SEALs, which of course tells you nothing. It’s a little like Courageous (really a sermon, but a good one), or The Artist (a one-time experiment that worked). It’s not a work of art, or really entertainment in the usual sense.  Act of Valor is an action film, a recruitment piece, a fictionalized documentary, and unlike anything out right now.

In film school, we studied the role of story and the role of spectacle in film. Spectacle can be whatever grabs or entertains you that is outside of the story. It’s Judy Garland singing, or Gene Kelly dancing, Jim Carrey doing his physical comedy, or Carmen Miranda just standing there. It may be just barely connected to the story, but it’s the wow factor that makes some films so enjoyable.  Here, the wow factor is real SEALs doing the action, and how much you like the film is to a great extent dependent on how that grabs you. I’m the product of two WWII vets, and I have a huge soft spot in my heart for the military. I have a great deal of respect for every serviceman and –woman, and both gratitude and admiration for the most highly trained personnel in the various branches. That made this film an enjoyable ride for me.

The acting, to be kind, is terrible. There are a few real actors, most notably Roselyn Sanchez of TV’s Without a Trace. Those real actors help carry the narrative burden of the plot, which involves international terrorism and scary terrorist alliances. Those scenes that move that along are not embarrassing, and help tie the film together with a degree of believability. The scenes of the SEALs relating to their families or one another in non-combat situations—well, those are something else.

Act of Valor also a Rorschach test. It’s not really political, but those of a political mind will find it so (as they do most everything else). How you feel about the military and our involvement in the affairs of other countries may well color how you take in the film. If you look at it as you would the Oscar-nominated films of 2011, you’d be disappointed and would miss the point. It’s about the spectacle of real trained men and women doing the things we only think we see in other action films.

As an action film, Act of Valor just stumbles along, its scenes of daring sometimes just barely held together by a rescue mission that unearths other dangers and connections that must be dealt with. The film is so focused on the SEALs and their work that it’s curiously involving at times in terms of the plot, which in other hands could be shocking or horrific. The cool and detachment of the central characters unhappily makes the film almost too detached and flat emotionally. The film eschews emotional highs and lows, as it focuses on the work of the SEALs, whose job it is to stay cool and detached. We’re tied in as viewers to what the SEALs are doing, but their “get the job done” approach pushes drama away. Great for them in real life; less great for the viewer. The action sequences have the same approach, and are both amazing (look at what they are really doing!) and lacking in dramatic structure and impact. Not going Hollywood sometimes has its downs.

Be warned: This is not a kid’s movie; it’s R for a reason. No sex or nudity, but the violence is rough at times, though never dwelt on for its own sake. Some is even implied or shown indirectly, but this film is still filled with torture, combat, explosions and flying bullets. The language, again not exploitative, is what you’d expect from people doing dastardly deeds and from those trying to stop them.

Though it has its moments of visual beauty, I doubt I’ll ever use this in my film class as any kind of example of the art of film. As a dramatized look inside what some of the bravest and most highly trained among us are doing, however, I appreciated the chance to glance inside.

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2012 Oscar Report: Warm Fuzzies and Nostalgia

Old-fashioned show. Tried and true host. Cautious, safe winners. Welcome back to “The Way We Were.”

Much has been made of the fact that this is the year of looking back in movies, with only one of the nine nominees for Best Picture set in the present. Tracking with that simple fact, the Academy Awards went the old and safe route, resulting in a generally enjoyable show (running shorter than usual) that was both a reaction to last year’s failed attempt at contemporary relevance and a reflection of the nostalgic flavor of many of the major films of 2011.

For those complaining that the awards went to films that looked backward rather than forward—well, these are the films that were made last year; let’s not blame the Academy for voting for what’s there. It just turns out that the best films of the year happened to look back with curiosity and kindness rather than anger. We’ll leave the interpretation of that to others.

Also, let’s not blame the Academy too much for dragging back the self-proclaimed “War Horse” Billy Crystal. No, he’s not current, but he’s really more classic than retro. Besides, he’s only back because previous producer Brett Ratner spoke inappropriately and his dismissal ended up taking host Eddie Murphy out of the show as well. Billy was reliable and generally kind-funny, and went for irony rather than blood. He was as warm and familiar as the show wanted us to be with the evening’s theme of Love of the Movies. Compared to last year, the warm and fuzzy approach was a relief and more in tune with what the Oscar show really is—an anachronistic self-congratulatory gathering that’s fairly clueless about what’s going on in the rest of the world today. That’s one of its greatest charms, and it veers from that path to its peril.

The awards, IMHO, generally got things right. I’m disappointed that The Tree of Life didn’t win Best Cinematography, but Hugo was my number two pick, and I was happy to see that Scorsese film so rewarded.  It’s a visually stunning film, and deserved its many technical awards. It should be seem (in 3D) by many more people.

I was never so happy to be wrong about Best Actress. I was persuaded that Viola Davis was going to win for The Help, but I thought that Meryl Streep’s performance in The Iron Lady was superior. (The two performances couldn’t be more different in tone and style, and it really is apples and oranges to compare the two. But Streep’s apple is just big bigger and juicier than Davis’ orange, that’s all.) The good news here is that Streep’s win will mean that this performance will become more than an also-ran historically. Since it’s a master class of fine acting, it will be more studied now that it’s won the golden man. That can only help all future film acting.

Other than that, there were no surprises. I was happy to see The Artist’s Jean Dujardin beat The Descendants’ George Clooney for reasons I’ve gone into in previous posts. We’ll probably never see the Frenchman on the Oscar stage again, but we’ll likely see George there soon. His day has come, and will come again, probably soon.  Christopher Plummer’s and Octavia Spencer’s wins were set in stone before the evening began.

Best Picture and Best Director for The Artist—a good thing. There is no consensus definition of “best” anyway, and in any event, the greatest film of the year was The Tree of Life. But while it was great, it was also greatly flawed. The Artist was a beautifully realized piece of work that was daring in its attempt to recreate yesterday in a fresh way. The Descendants was also a solid, well-written and well-acted film, but the mid-life crisis/family problem film just wasn’t delightful, daring, and fun, as is The Artist.

Are the Oscars important in any real way? Well, the show is a blessed reprieve from harsh reality—in that way, a reflection of the role of most films in our lives. More practically, Oscars generally mean that more people will see the awarded films, and for the art of film, that’s generally a good thing, too. Those who win will likely have more opportunities and more dollars attached to those opportunities. Good for them; may they use those opportunities wisely.

For film people, the Oscar show is just the biggest of the awards show, and the ultimate “Best of the Year” list. The greatest part of those shows and lists is that it gets people talking about films, and that’s great for the art form as well as the business end of things. If that doesn’t seem like much, you just invested a few moments reading this and thinking about films, didn’t you?

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2012 Oscar Predictions

They’re coming Sunday night, Feb. 26. It’s my Super Bowl.

PICTURE
The only thing interesting about this category is that the still-getting-used-to-them rules have yielded the odd number of nine nominees. The larger number hasn’t seemed to solve any problems or added any value other than that more films can hit us with “Nominated for Best Picture” on their advertising.

This is really between The Artist and The Descendants. The Tree of Life, as the most ambitious and far-reaching film in the group, is the greatest work of art this year. But it’s flawed, and not accessible. Just happens to be brilliant and ground-breaking, that’s all.

Right now the ebb and flow between the other two films mentioned puts The Artist at the top at the moment. Hollywood likes fresh, and old is new again this year (The Artist, Hugo, War Horse, Midnight in Paris). Plus it’s so enjoyable, and introduces America to a trio of talent in the leads and director. It’s also no threat, as it’s a one-off. No new trend here!

Prediction: The Artist

Preference: The Artist 

BEST ACTOR

See above for the two dueling pics. The same holds true for the actors. And in keeping with all the “who’s on top at the moment?” changes, right now the money is on Jean Dujardin to take the prize. He’s a complete delight in The Artist, and nails the performance. It’s one of those “perfect fits” between part and actor that come by once a decade or so. As I’ve written, I know that Hollywood loves Clooney, but he is overrated, though this is likely his best performance. I don’t want him to peak yet. Keep improving, George. You’ll earn another one to put beside your supporting award for Syriana.

Prediction: Jean Dujardin, The Artist

Preference: Jean Dujardin, The Artist

BEST ACTRESS

This one is also between two people: Meryl Streep for The Iron Lady and her friend Viola Davis for The Help. This one is too tough to call with any certainty. I would have predicted Davis easily a few weeks ago, but Streep has won the BAFTA (“British Oscar”) Best Actress Award over Davis, and since Octavia Spencer is a lock for an Oscar, the shift might go to Streep. There are two competing pairs of tensions here: Davis turned in a beautifully subtle performance and easily deserves the award. Streep’s performance, equally worthy, was a triumph of technique and is breathtaking in its virtuosity—essentially the opposite in style and feel of Davis’. Then there is Streep’s string of nominations. Some feel since she gets nominated all the time (a clear exaggeration), that the award should go to Davis. Others just as strongly feel that with 17 nominations under her belt, a win for Best Supporting Actress and one for Best Actress doesn’t begin to do her justice. And since this is a worthy performance, the thinking goes, let’s honor it and give our greatest living actress her first Oscar win in nearly 30 years.

Prediction (with great hesitance): Viola Davis, The Help

Preference: (with some hesitance) Meryl Streep, The Iron Lady

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Why even discuss this? This is a life achievement award for Christopher Plummer. It could have gone to Nick Nolte in Warrior—for the same lifetime reason. But the film underperformed (see it, everyone!). Max von Sydow is a greater film legend than Plummer will ever be, but Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close opened too late to get the proper attention, and then received mediocre reviews. So the nomination is his prize. And Plummer has one advantage over the other two: He wins the politically correct prize as a gay old man coming out as his life is near the end. So he has a double whammy going for him: the gay theme paired with the sick theme. That beats Nolte’s ex-alcoholic and von Sydow’s mute old man. Any of these latter two would have won in other years, especially a heavyweight like von Sydow. But this is Plummer’s year.

Prediction: Christopher Plummer, Beginners

Preference: No one.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

This one is as much of a lock as Christopher Plummer. If Octavia Spencer doesn’t win for The Help, it will be one of the greatest upsets in Oscar history. It’s a wonderful performance, and shines the brighter for being in that film, and for being paired with Davis’ superior and more restrained performance: Spencer is just a little too much Wanda Sykes in her line delivery and facial expressions at time for my taste. But it’s a joy and it, with Davis’ work, anchors the film. Plus the Academy wants to honor the film, and this is one way to do it. And she has a trail of wins behind her.

Prediction: Octavia Spencer, The Help

Preference: Spencer is fine, though part of me would love to see Jessica Chastain win. She’s nominated for The Help, but an award for her this year would be for her stunning body of work in 2011. A future Oscar winner for sure.

BEST DIRECTOR

This one will likely go to Michel Hazavanicius for The Artist. It’s a beautiful piece of directing, and some folks are loath to divide the directing award from the best picture award. But Martin Scorcese pulled off a triumph with Hugo, which is unlike any other film made this year, and Terrence Malick reached farther and more successfully than not with The Tree of Life, also unlike anything else this—or any other—year. But I think that the last two directors have their win in the nomination, and MH is the likely winner.

Prediction: Michel Hazavanicius, The Artist

Preference: Terrence Malick for The Tree of Life (never happen) or Martin Scorcese for Hugo (small chance, but unlikely)

BEST SCREENPLAY

There were many great scripts this year, and I wish there were more awards for them. Best Original: The nomination for Bridesmaids is as far as the Academy is going to go. They love Woody Allen, and Midnight in Paris is not only fresh, it’s the best thing Allen’s done in years. Best Adapted: The Descendants is on the descent, but my guess is that the Academy will rally around the script, which is more than worthy of the prize. But I think that Moneyball was a triumph of problem-solving (a movie about statistics?) and great storytelling.

Prediction: Original: Midnight in Paris

Prediction: Adapted: The Descendants

Other points of interest

In any other year, Iran’s nomination for Best Foreign Language Film, A Separation, would be a lock. With all the saber-rattling coming out of Tehran, however, the film might suffer. I doubt it, but it’s a possibility.

 

Hugo’s Art Direction nomination is an understatement. If it deserves any award, this is it. If that’s going to extend to Best Cinematography, I wouldn’t have any problem with that. But my slight preference for that is The Tree of Life.

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Going to Movies (Part Three)

Food

You’re watching a movie, and you have to undo a candy wrapper. If you can’t cover it with a jacket or something, just, for Pete’s sake, do it quickly. It is majorly irritating to have sometime take 47 seconds to slowly undo a piece of hard candy—and very distracting.

Cell Phones

Actually, you really should do what they tell you to—turn ‘em off. If you are expecting a really important call, put it on silent or vibrate and sit where you can leave the theater quickly to speak to someone. DO NOT carry on a conversation in the theater—I can’t believe people who do that. Do what they tell fighters in a bar—Take it outside! And if you get a text, don’t hold your phone up so that a third of the theater can see that you’re reading it. That takes all those people out of the movie experience, and that’s just something you don’t want to do. If it’s that important, get up and get out and read it. Or put a coat over your head, sit on the floor, and read it there. Quietly. Really.

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Going to Movies (Part 2)

Reprinted with permission from How to Act Like a Grown-Up (http://actlikeagrownup.com/category/interactions/page/2/).

If you’re with a group, everyone gets that you’re with a group. But don’t think that being one of 4 or 6 or even more gives you the right to take away from everyone else’s movie experience. It doesn’t. So learn the whisper, hardly use it, and then talk your heads off when the movie is done.

Let me get movie-professorish: There is something very special about letting the film take you over, pull you into its images and noises and themes and colors, and take you on its ride. You can’t have that experience if you’re still trying to be a part of a small group of friends. Let yourself become a member of the audience for a couple of hours. Then you’ll really have something worth talking about.

Like driving, the movie experience is actually bigger than you are. That’s a good thing. Become a part of it. Then go home and pop in a DVD and talk as much as you want. At home (most of the time, and depending on the folks present), that’s OK. In fact, that’s a whole other experience.

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Going to the Movies, Part One

Reprinted with permission from How to Act Like a Grown-Up (http://actlikeagrownup.com/category/interactions/page/2/).

Watching movies at home is one thing. But once you go into a movie theater, the rules change. (Trust me on this—I’m a film professor and I know about all this stuff!)

Watching movies is a group experience. It’s a whole different animal than watching at home. Don’t let that slip away from you, both for your sake and the sake of everyone else in the theater.

So….

Keep your mouth closed (in general). Quietly during previews is OK, but quietly. Intro credits—settle in and close down the conversation. We don’t come to a movie theater to hear you talk. And once the movie starts, only a whispered comment a couple of times is cool. The public whisper is nearly a lost art—try to resurrect it.

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A couple of thoughts on the 2012 SAG Awards

The Screen Actors Guild awards were handed out last night. No big deal, and no huge surprises. Of course, these awards carry a great deal of prestige because they are given to actors BY actors, and in many ways, makes this a more focused and fun event. For the winners, the awards are a great personal joy, and you can easily see the recipients reliving the joys of being in their profession.

For most of the rest of the film world, however, they are (unfairly) just another precursor to the Oscars. In that context, I don’t think there’s a lot of big news here. This morning’s entertainment portion of the news on my local radio station says that because The Help won the “Best Ensemble” award, there is now a new competitor to the current two-film Best Picture Oscar race between The Artist and The Descendants. I don’t believe that. Best Ensemble is focused on the acting, and since Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer both won their individual awards, and Jessica Chastain was nominated alongside Spencer, it’s not a leap to see the guild go for The Help. The Descendants only had one acting nomination (unfortunately—Shailene Woodley, as they say, wuz robbed) and The Artist only had two. It was a Davis/Spencer coronation last night, and The Help received the reflected glory. Can’t imagine that vote affecting the Oscars.

It’s not hard to predict the future Oscar winners of two out of the four acting categories last night. Christopher Plummer’s gracious acceptance speech virtually guaranteed his receiving his life achievement Oscar this year. Spencer is the same kind of lock for The Help that Mo’Nique was with Precious two years ago.

Jean Dujardin was the surprise choice for Best Male Actor in The Artist, and I hope that extends to the Academy Awards. Hollywood is in love with Clooney, and this choice is perhaps the strongest signal yet that Clooney’s nomination for The Descendants may be award enough. Clooney was very, very good in that film, and has moved me as he never has before. But Dujardin in The Artist is a marvel. Go, SAG.

The Best Female Actor award going to Davis can be viewed two ways. One perspective says this locks her in for the Oscars. The other perspective says that since Davis won here, Streep was therefore—you pick the word—snubbed, ignored, passed over, whatever. Streep, who is loved by Hollywood almost as much as Clooney and who nailed her part in The Iron Lady, could get a kind of “let’s not forget this great performance that elevated a mediocre film” and “ Davis got the SAG, so let’s balance these two great performances” award.

As always, we’ll see.

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The Artist

What a delight. It definitely helps being a total film nerd when you see it. There are so many film references that make it all the more fun. I noticed references to Singin’ in the Rain, What Price Hollywood?, every version of A Star is Born, Sunset Boulevard, Citizen Kane (more than I would have thought), Potemkin, and performers such as Douglas Fairbanks, Gene Kelly, John Gilbert, Garbo, Chaplin, John Barrymore and Astaire and Rogers, and then I just gave up.

But you don’t have to have a film background to enjoy it. My computer nerd son-in-law, who might have the smallest film background of a person his age, thoroughly enjoyed it.

He also noticed something I try to tell my class about good films: They engage you. They pull you in and expect you to pay attention, think, and remember; a good film is something of an interactive experience. The Artist does that in spades. You have to keep watching, yet the film makes it a joy to do so.

The story is either hackneyed, or classic, depending on your point of view. But it doesn’t matter. The whole film, from the sets to the cinematography to the acting styles, is one joyous look back at silent films around the time sound was introduced. Out with the old, in with the new—nothing new there. But its openhearted, un-cynical perspective makes it one of the freshest films of the year. The film doesn’t send anything up, or look down at an art form that exists only in collections and memory. It celebrates it, but unlike other similar films this year (Hugo, War Horse), does so without a hint of nostalgia.

Where to start celebrating its virtues? The cast and the direction are a happy collaboration of friends and spouses. The director, Michel Hazanavicius has a close friend named Jean Dujardin, the lead here. Hazanavicius also has a wife, Bérénice Bejo, who has the female lead. A group effort from these three after a couple of successful French spy spoofs could have been a disastrous vanity project. Instead, it’s as close to movie magic as one can come.

Dujardin is just the latest in the happy string of people born to play a part. More recently, we’ve had Jesse Eisenberg in The Social Network, Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote, and Jamie Foxx in Ray; historically, we’ve seen the near-perfect blending of actor and part with Ben Kingsley in Gandhi, Brando in The Godfather and going all the way back to the early ’30s with Charles Laughton in The Private Life of Henry VIII. Dujardin joins that group here. He exudes the energy and excitement of a dashing and electric screen star. The word irrepressible might have been invented for him. His smile, exhibiting an exquisite joy in being himself, comes off as more contagious than arrogant, though the plot forces him to face that aspect of his character’s personality. He nears jumps out of his skin in every frame. Dujardin might never be able to play Albert Nobbs, but he sure nails the silent screen persona.

Bejo is his equal. Though just four years younger than Dujardin, you would never know it by her fresh young face. Here, she is a cleaned-up Clara Bow crossed with Leslie Caron in An American in Paris. Her big eyes and glorious smile nearly look like digital effects, and that’s a compliment. Both she and Dujardin master the melodramatic acting style (and I mean “melodramatic” in its original going-back-to-18th-century-France definition) of the silents, creating poetry of gesture and visage in every frame.

Much of the credit for that must fall to the director, of course, and Hazanavicius does the near-impossible task of keeping the tone consistent throughout the film. He never gets silly, condescending, or campy. He hits the ground running with a serious, heightened sensibility, and never lets up. Yet he manages moments of great humor, suspense, sadness and pathos. It may be silent, but it’s a real movie, meant to be enjoyed as a story on its own terms. There’s even a surprising “sort-of” twist near the end that had audience members on the edge of their seats.

Music, more important to silent films than most people know, has been the dance partner to the film’s image since near the beginning. There was usually a piano, organ, small band or orchestra playing along before “sound” officially came in. The Artist’s music is the equal of the lovingly photographed images, and has a more important role than in the majority of sound films. Instead of being the unperceived part of the film experience, or trying to tell you how to feel or when to get nervous, the music here is an equal partner to the images. It’s never mere accompaniment, nor an add-on, but a vital, merry companion that exponentially increases our experience.

I can only quibble with two very small bits. One is the casting of James Cromwell as the butler/chauffeur to the lead. Of course he’s good, but somehow, John Goodman’s over-the-top comic persona works much better as the film director. Seeing Cromwell in a servant’s role is a stretch to begin with, and seeing him move from his normal intense naturalistic acting style to incorporating melodrama with its gestures and poses just took me out of the film. So did Hazavanicius’ use of Bernard Herrmann’s haunting, evocative score from 1958’s Vertigo. It occurred in a place where it worked for the film thematically. But its controversial use here was too jarringly modern for the film.

But I carp. These are minor glitches, and may be limited to the few with my particular background. This is a one-of-a-kind film, and won’t be the start of any trend. So grab your chance to see this one on the big screen, and revel in a confluence of perfect casting, spot-on direction, a joyous score, and a thoroughly sneer-free outlook.1933, to

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Surprises/Happy/Sad: Response to the 2012 Oscar Nominations

Academy Award nominations have been issued, and as always, there are the usual suspects and the few surprises. There are always surprises, and the fun is in trying to figure out where those surprises are going to be—and then trying to ascertain why.

Happy: One unpredictable was the number of best picture nominations. OK, so we end up with nine—this year. The good news here is that the new system of determining this (based on the number of #1 votes for a film) doesn’t determine a specific number. That makes for at least a moment of genuine suspense in the process.

Happy, too: The Tree of Life, the most inventive, ambitious and possibly influential film of the year, made the list. So did Moneyball, for my money the near equal of The Descendants. Perhaps more folks will rent the DVD for Moneyball now. Great film, tight script, first-rate performances and as enjoyable a ride as any this year. Also glad that Ides of March was rightfully thought not worthy of this list.

Sad: War Horse. On the list; shouldn’t be. But glad SS didn’t get a director nomination for it. Since I live in a backwater, I haven’t seen Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, so I’m withholding a happy/sad thought on that. Midnight in Paris—not sure if it should be here, and am thinking it’s just slightly overrated. But it’s the best Woody Allen in a long time, and has a freshness to it compared to most of his recent films that might make it seem better than it is.

No surprises in the directing categories, except that I am happy to see Terrence Malick recognized for The Tree of Life. My Woody Allen thoughts? See paragraph above.

Happy: Leonardo DiCaprio not being nominated for J. Edgar, which was rightfully ignored by the Academy. Poor Leo, still one of our best younger actors, was caught in the crossfire between a screenwriter and director with conflicting visions. His performances reflected the conflict, which says nothing about his talent.

Surprise: Gary Oldman for Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. Enjoy the nomination, Gary. You’re a greatly talented actor who stands the same chance of winning as A Better Life’s Demián Bichir. Sad thought: I’m resigning myself to a Clooney win, which might cement this growing talent at the current level. That’s not good.

Not a surprise, but worthy of note: Nothing for future Oscar winners Michael Fassbender (Shame) or Ryan Gosling (Drive and Ides of March). Not yet, anyway. Maybe they can hang with Leo on Oscar night and take bets on when they will win.

Surprise: Best supporting actor nod for Jonah Hill for Moneyball. It’s a solid performance, and one that I would have expected the Golden Globe folks to nominate, but not the Academy. But what’s really fun here, and happy news, is that we have three—count ‘em, three!—screen legends competing for their lifetime achievement Oscar. In any other year, Nick Nolte would have won on the winning combination of actual performance and sentiment. (And a lot more people need to see Warrior.) Nolte’s nomination, completely deserved, messes up the nomination of another screen legend, Christopher Plummer, who without Nolte, would have been a shoe-in. But wait, we have someone else, not just a screen legend, but a SCREEN LEGEND!!!—Max von Sydow. Now what is the Academy going to do? Someone great is going to win. But Hollywood’s political correctness leans heavily in Plummer’s favor for a performance as an old man coming out of the closet. But two great someones are going to lose in what may be their best chance for a late-in-life Oscar.

Best actress nominations included one slight surprise: Rooney Mara for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Good for her, but really wasn’t expecting that. Expected Tilda Swinton (We Need to Talk About Kevin) in that spot. The others—yes. I thought several months ago that this was going to be the Streep vs. Glenn Close battle, with sentiment firmly behind the perennial non-winning nominee (Close). But now it’s the Viola Davis vs. her friend Streep competition that will be highlighted.

And while we’re here, please let me remind the entertainment folks on television that in spite of her record number of nominations (now 17), Streep has only won twice, including once for best supporting actress, and that her other Oscar was nearly 30 years ago. So this silliness about being up against Streep and not being able to win is absurd. The fact that she hasn’t won in ages and put in a classic performance this year, and the fact that Davis has just recently gotten started in her film career might tip things toward the great Streep. We’ll see.

Happy: That Melissa McCarthy was nominated for Bridesmaids. Even though critics are nearly pulling a tendon patting themselves on the back for their acknowledgement of a good comedy performance this past year, it IS a fact that good comedy performance are routinely, historically, either ignored or wildly underappreciated. (Jim Carrey should have been nominated for Best Actor for Liar, Liar, but I know I’m in the minority on that.) Who knows–McCarthy might even pull a Marisa Tomei on us and beat all the “dramatic” contenders.

Sad here: No nomination for Shailene Woodley, who stole The Descendants from Clooney and absolutely nailed the angry teen role, setting a modern gold standard for it. If this role is any indication, we’ll see her nominated soon.

Oscar predictions and personal preferences will come later. For now, after all the speculation, it’s just fun to see what really happened!

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Red Tails

Red Tails is rousing, brave, extremely well intentioned, a throwback, and historically revisionist. It’s the tale of the Tuskegee Airmen, African-American fighter pilots in World War II.

According to producer George Lucas, the film was to be a throwback to the 1940’s war stories of Our Brave Fighting Men. Lucas wanted to create a stirring, patriotic, inspirational film aimed at teenage boys. In Red Tails, he partially succeeded.

Being retro is apparently a recent trend: see The Artist, War Horse and Hugo. Happily, Lucas doesn’t go retro with the action sequences, which are by far the most exciting part of the film, though they occasionally border on stretching our disbelief too far. The tension of the battles, the danger and beauty of planes moving with both power and grace—these are WWII movie staples that are wondrously re-imagined and modernized with every digital effect at Lucas’ disposal.

But being retro doesn’t have to mean being second-rate, and the dialogue of those scenes is the weak link of the action sequences. If Lucas or director Anthony Hemingway (“The Wire”) were trying to replicate the studio acting styles of the actors during the war years, it didn’t work. The conversations in the air don’t come off as parts of a whole but as independent line readings that barely connect with what comes before or after. It’s a lesson in the power of editing that we’re even partially convinced that these guys are actually speaking to each other. We may groan at some of the acting of the studio era when we view them today, but for the most part, the acting was of a piece with the rest of the film. Here, it’s not corny-but-OK, but simply barely better than a college play. State-of-the-art effects and unconvincing acting don’t mix well.

It doesn’t get much better on the ground. The “name actors”—Cuba Gooding, Jr., Terrence Howard and Bryan Cranston among them—are fine, though no one stands out. Gooding is a strange combination of late Donald Crisp, Barry Fitzgerald and Grandpappy Amos of “The Real McCoys,” and Howard just wins the battle over his struggle against that voice of his and comes off as close to a real character as the film gets. The rest of the crew may be fine actors, either someday or even now, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it here. Howard gets the best line however, delivering the best “don’t care” line since Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive.

There is a scene that sets this apart from other war films, and from most other films in general. For once in a Hollywood film, there is a heartfelt, real prayer that resonates with faith and meaning. I don’t know the spiritual backgrounds of the key players here, but someone involved in this endeavor has done some real and serious praying. And to you I say thanks.

Some are lamenting that the skilled real airmen are not getting their just due here, as the film is softened around the edges, doesn’t go too deep, and is very PG-13. In that regard, the film is as much of a missed opportunity as The Iron Lady. But the goal here is to be rousing, not deep or artful, or even precisely accurate historically; in that regard, this may well be the best cinematic tribute movie history will eventually crown. Some are arguing that the film is brave because it’s an all-black action film that no studio seemed to want, and yet others are arguing that it soft-pedals the depth of racial hatred and obstacles the airmen had to endure. The “let me buy you a drink” bar scene, where black and white officers almost break into “I’d like to teach the world to sing…,” is admittedly a flight of fancy (pun intended); it manages to come off as a revisionist dream about what ought to have happened. But by not highlighting the depths of racial hatred and institutional bigotry and discrimination, the film is able to concentrate instead on these men in this unit at this point in time in this particular war. Red Tails is not a filmic screed on racism, nor a documentary. It’s an uneven, at times poorly acted action film that turns the Tuskegee Airmen into exciting heroes. Maybe, in the long run, that will be the unit’s most fitting homage.

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