Alternate Best Actor 1973: Anthony Hopkins in A Doll's House

Anthony Hopkins did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Torvald in A Doll's House.

A Doll's House follows a wife Nora (Claire Bloom) reexamining her relationship with her husband as outside forces grant a new perspective on her situation. 

Anthony Hopkins plays the role of Torvald which you could argue is all how it leads to the climactic moments, and whatever the performer does to lead towards that moment. Torvald isn't necessarily immediately distressing and Hopkins grants the allowance for the view Nora of her relationship with Torvald initially. Hopkins plays the role initially with a seeming levity while doing his famed Olivier impression throughout his performance which becomes particularly noticeable late in the film. Although I wouldn't say this is either a masterstroke or a distraction, just a choice that works as well for Torvald as would've been the case if Hopkins had chosen to maintain his typically already regal voice. Hopkins presents a potentially loving state as he welcomes Nora into his embrace, and while certain lines speak towards this controlling attitude of the man, treating her more so as a doll than a woman that is his equal, however, the way Hopkins delivers these lines is pivotal. He doesn't subvert them but he does present them with a bit of jovial quality as though one may be fooled to interpret that this is just Torvald's way of being playful. Hopkins doesn't immediately raise an alarm, he indicates what is really going in within Torvald's manner as the aggressively forceful and controlling man, but doesn't enforce the idea. Hopkins's performance manages to naturally articulate both sides with quite an ease of expression within his performance. Hopkins never directly converses with her in a way much as he's talking to her. He blithely speaks with just accentuation on the random joy he seems to get out of her, without more than a careless simplicity within the process. He doesn't connect with her as much as he admires her. The admiration of taking in the joys with the simplicity of it that isn't anything more than that with Hopkins's presentation. 

The reality of this is broken by Nora having to deal with an earlier indiscretion that may destroy their entire situation, which could be avoided if Nora could convince Torvald to not fire a man who has evidence of the indiscretion. Hopkins reveals some of Torvald's behavior more openly by the level of dismissiveness as Nora pleads to avoid the trouble by not firing the man, and Hopkins presents not a moment of hesitation in ignoring the request. It isn't even something that dances in his mind for a moment he simply moves on. We see this dismissiveness all the greater even when the two ready for a party by Nora practicing her dancing while Torvald plays the piano. Hopkins's directing of her initially presented with that initial joviality yet this quickly segues towards frustration with her inability to do exactly what he says. Hopkins presents this frustration in a decidedly thin way, and effective as such, reinforcing again treating Nora as a mere doll, and when she's not doing as he says, he reacts not as a loving husband rather just a boy who doesn't like that his toy is not working as it should. Eventually this leads to Torvald discovery the indiscretion which Hopkins's performance is big, however big in a way I find gets to the heart of it, which is as the true brat just seeing his plaything doing something he doesn't like. Hopkins lashing out against her with the fury not of an intelligent man, but a fully petulant child. Hopkins conveying someone fully taking his wife for granted in every word and treating her without a second thought. Showing a man who views her with less than any but a source of joy, and when not that, as nothing. When Nora pushes back against him, Hopkins is terrific in his way of deconstructing the state of Torvald. Hopkins eases back towards calm, however even in calm the distress Hopkins shows in this disbelief and confusion is still with a brittle quality of not a loving man but a using man. There is so little love in it of a person just in a way a weak affection. Hopkins manages to deliver well a worthless sort of humanity. Hopkins shows that Torvald is hurt by the revelation but even in that emotional harm, it is without true depth of feeling towards him. It is with a worthless selfishness all the same. Hopkins is great throughout this final sequence against Bloom, falling into this submission that he presents as the man trying to find some truth of emotion however still failing to deliver anything but self-pity. Hopkins is moving in the sense he does make the emotion so real, while maintaining the fundamental flaw of the man. Hopkins gives a striking performance as he makes Torvald dynamic within his work, yet while doing so shows the little depth within the man all the same. 

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Vincent Price in Theater of Blood

Vincent Price did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Edward Lionheart in Theater of Blood.

Theater of Blood is an entertaining bloody romp about a hammy yet "deceased" Shakespearean actor seeking revenge against his critics through means devised by the Bard himself. 

It seems that I was waiting to review this performance in my earlier mentions of Price, as this is the Price performance that the world was waiting for, Price without filter, Price without reservations of good decency, Price without the limits of the Hayes code. Price let loose upon the world without classic restrictions and the leave to go for the fully villainous turn. The added bonus is that he gets to do this while also playing a Shakespearean actor so we don't just get Price as a villain, we get him to be a villain with the best monologues from the history of drama at his disposal. However, there is one more facet that in a way makes this performance seemingly review-proof, in that Price is supposed to be playing a hammy over the top actor, therefore he is given carte blanche in the role, and to criticize him for being "over the top" would mean he is doing exactly what he should be doing. Of course, I only say "seemingly" as given the go-ahead to go "over the top" is no guarantee of hamtastic gloriousness, the actor must deliver the proverbial goods. But hey, this seems like the character that Price might've been waiting through his whole sinister cinematic career to play, so one would hope he would not waste the opportunity. 

And he does not. Price's performance really is everything you'd want in a Vincent Price performance however all factored into a single Vincent Price vehicle. Price enters into this film as a kind of "ghost" to the proceedings as critics start to get bumped off and no one is sure who exactly is doing it. The odd thing in each one though is they all align with a kind of Shakespearean death. This as the first murder is done by Price in police garb to a critic on the Ides of March and leads the men to a group of hobos all with very sharp objects. Price looks on with an uncaring glare until the stabbed man approaches him and Price gives a brief lament before revealing himself. Price is exceptionally wonderful in then the duplicity of his two sides one of his delivery of Mark Antony's speech, in blunt contrast to the critic statement that Price's Edward is dead, to Price's retort, spoken with as much savoring as possible, informing the critic that he is alive and the critic is the one who is dead. Price instantly establishes Edward both as a devilish fiend but also a devilish fiend who takes the Bard most seriously. Of course, this is just but a warmup for Price's performance that takes this idea much further than this. 

We learn that Edward Lionheart was an actor who could not seemingly get a positive notice from a single critic, hated much by all. Again even this I think would seemingly make him review proof, however, Price actually does give far more nuanced than one would expect. Take the scene with the second critic he meets where they have a bit of a discussion before Lionheart gets on with his intention. Price begins with kind of this almost diplomatic if not friendly welcome in opening the discussion. When speaking towards the critics hating him so much, Price's delivery is a bit calm at first and actually expresses genuine hurt in mentioning the brutal reviews he receives. There's a vulnerability that Price reveals, however, this is before he naturally segues towards a darker tone. Price keeps the calm though making him all the more unnerving as he suggests the critics' method of death to be upcoming soon. Price portrays in this though a genuine sense of hatred in Lionheart as goes about it, as much as he shows joy in the kill, what I love is that Price suggests how it is that Lionheart was genuinely pained by what was said about him. 

Each murder that Price goes about with is a highlight, in part due to the creativity of the murderous methods, but also Price getting to play around with a different idea each time around, while still carrying the Shakespearean theme. When he goes about performing a doctor for the murder, Price brings a callous precision as though he really was performing surgery. This makes for some rather dark comedy as he orders a scalpel, a saw, a lipstick for tracing, and a basin, all while performing such a brutal murder, with this incredible professional ease. Price is hilarious, in the darkest way possible, as he so matters of fact in each step right down to just the way he looks down during his slow decapitation of the critic. When next performing the Merchant of Venice, with such ham as Shylock with a high pitched voice, Price is pretty bad in his final speech, as intentionally so as shown by his switch in the final line that goes from poorly performing Shylock to the devious Lionheart spoken with a true biting conviction by Price denoting that he will have his "pound of flesh". In this instance literally cutting out the critic's heart, which ends with Price's quiet dutifulness, which once again is rather hilarious if so darkly, as he measures to ensure that it amounts to a pound nor more no less. One of my favorites though being a later murder though as Price gets to be a hippy hairdresser where he fashions another oddball turn, that is delightful as he speaks his slang, while with that evil grin that is so distinctly Price, before swapping to a ferocious monologue again as he curses the next critic to hell...via electric barber chair. 

It is worth again noting though that Price's performance is both Price as the Price that he is kind of known for as public consciousness, and the best form of that, but there is more to it than that. This as we get a flashback when Lionheart was denied a critics choice award once again, Price delivers his mocking monologue to their poor taste with that boisterousness, but also there is a true sadness in Price's performance. This is to the point you do feel kind of sorry for Lionheart as he appears to commit suicide as a man who seems ashamed of his own existence leading him to recite Hamlet's "To Be or Not To Be" soliloquy. Price delivers this largely of course, but there is real passion in it as he speaks it as a suicidal note of this defeated man. Of course, there is so much to love just in getting Price to play into the villainy, none greater in Shakespeare than Richard III again and he tears into the "Winter's Discontent" with the great aplomb you'd hope for. Price simply is just wildly entertaining here by having so much fun with every speech and variation of the murderer that we are given here. Price delighting in every moment as he drowns the next critic as Richard, or actually even his very phony french accent he does as he engages in a duel with his arc rival Devlin (Ian Hendry). The latter scene itself embodies the tone wonderfully in the duel that is fully theatrical and just a whole lot of fun. Price provides the punctuation to every moment in his zestful speech and eyes that are just blaring with vengeful and fiendish glee. 

 

Still, though the disgusting passion he brings as he speaks his motivation against critics is more than just being the broad villain, even as Price is so enjoyable as the broad villain. The merging of these two sides comes in the climax as he intends to kill Devlin through a King Lear-inspired blinding. Price gloriously speaks as the greatest actor, at least an actor who believes himself to be the greatest, as he speaks his execution of Devlin as though he would an awards speech. Sadly for Lionheart, he suffers tragedy as his daughter (Diana Rigg), who has been helping him every step of the way as his accomplice, dies leading him to mourn as Lear himself would while a fire rages around him in a burning theater. Price is amazing in the scene as he captures just the right tone of ham with genuine emotion as he tenderly holds his daughter's corpse as he stands above what will be his funeral pyre. Price speaks overly dramatically, yet in his face is the genuine emotion of a father having lost his daughter. Price is strangely is honestly kind of moving, just as he is a most proper over-the-top actor taking in his grand exit for all its worth. Unlike the smug Devlin, who honestly Lionheart is far more likable as protagonist than despite Lionheart's murdering, who dismisses Lionheart's final performance, I will not. This is Price at his best. He is a glorious ham here, but there is some depths both in the way he enacts Shakespeare, but also in this actor who was betrayed for his devotion to his craft. More than anything though just a wildly entertaining turn that is everything you want from Price as a delectable devious cinematic killer that is so much fun to watch.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Carl Anderson in Jesus Christ Superstar

Carl Anderson did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite being nominated for a Golden Globe, for portraying Judas Iscariot in Jesus Christ Superstar.

I'll admit any Jesus Christ Superstar adaptation already has the favor of the music in its corner, as it is one of the few musicals where I pretty much like to love every song. I think also the rock opera format is ideal for this story, since you come in likely already knowing it well. This version even in its theoretical "low budget" styling, I actually I like a great deal, as it very much kind of recognizes the format, while in a way kind of directing us straight to the emotion of it. This neither getting caught in sort of the pageantry if it attempted a biblical epic approach, or getting caught too much in the idea of any subversion of the story if it went more towards overt style. I feel here it balances both notions to greater effect, this using the actual landscapes, but as a "troupe production". It recognizes that it is actually a pure realization of that story, just through a unique presentation of it. 

 

A masterstroke of the musical is that while Jesus (played here by Ted Neely) is a lead, he is not a sole lead. This as it grants about equal focus to Judas, his betrayer. Now this version loses no musical power from any other recording given it didn't cast movie stars, rather including Broadway performers, though not all specifically from the original production. Carl Anderson was the replacement Judas, and his vocal abilities for the stage are readily noticeable. To say Anderson delivers on every song is more than any understatement. His mastery of each every note is remarkable, and I can, and have, listened to his specific tracks again and again. His singing just is incredible. Although with that, I think is where we see a risk paid off within the notion of casting from the stage, as sometime stage presence doesn't carry over to screen presence. This as his singing doesn't just merely hit the notes, though he certainly does, but he importantly acts them. Acting them not just in the moment but crafting an entire portrayal of Judas which is immensely fascinating. This as he isn't at all a villain, rather in each song he slowly crafts with it this portrait of a very specific person in relation to Jesus. 

This as we open the film with "Heaven on their minds" we get a striking emotion within his work as Anderson reveals Judas's discontent. The discontent is not of hatred though rather frustration within his performance. A frustration that makes particularly powerful because he doesn't present it as coming from a place of hate rather a place of admiration if not love. This as the moments of expressing the past time with Jesus where the emphasis did not appear to be on his divinity, Anderson presents within his performance an anxiety and anguish around the anger of the state. Judas suggesting a man very much believed in the message but with this sense of discontent as though it has been obscured by other things. This sense of admiration making the rendition very much a warning, and not a threat. I love for example how he sings "we are occupied" which is brilliantly almost oxymoronic as he whispers while still singing it with might. In that moment Anderson creating the sense of the fear of the follower, who sees them on the wrong path and with a clear sense of the passion that once defined a loyalty to Jesus. This whole scene though, being I think testament to the strength of Anderson's performance, because it is never about just the singing. His movements express in every sort of weighted step, a man burdened by his perceived knowledge, and his expressions match every word with equal resonance. 

The two numbers where we are among Jesus and his followers "What's the Buzz", "Everything's Alright", both feature Anderson basically as the counterpart to each prevailing sentiment. The first time we see Judas decrying Mary Magdalen, a prostitute, being in Jesus's company. I think the way Anderson plays this scene is brilliant, because as much as it still is Judas being a jerk, his approach is less of an attack on Mary, and more so fierce counsel to Jesus. Every word he expresses it is within this sort of familiarity we see in his face, and again that distress as he warns "they need only a small excuse to put us all away". Again Anderson emphasizes so effectively Judas more so as a friend counseling someone he sees going down a wrong path, than a pompous villain, or even overly zealous fool. This is point expressed all the more potently in the second song, where Mary is attempting to comfort Jesus with fine ointment. Anderson's musical decrying of it, as he enters in again with such ferocity, is perhaps my favorite singular line as sung in the film. A reason for this though is in the moment, where Judas notes such extravagance could've been given to the poor, there is such passion and pain in Anderson's voice and eyes. He shows a man who genuinely is heartbroken that he can't do more to help others, and his lashing out is again from a place of technically deep virtue, not a vice. I love the silent followup moment where Jesus asks Judas to appreciate what he has, as in the moment of genuine understanding in both their faces, are we granted a sense of the friends they were at one time.

I think what is representative of the strength of the work of Anderson is in so many of the scenes where he actually doesn't sing a note and is merely among scenes. This as he stands apart and is distinct on his own. This in wonderful moments where his reactions take in the more zealous nature of the other followers or some of Jesus's actions, there is a sense of dread and concern he conveys so powerfully within his work. He doesn't sing a word, but you know exactly what is going on with him. This to the point that there is a build within his performance towards finally returning to a song with "Damned for all time". The song where Judas essentially agrees to betraying Jesus. Anderson is magnificent in the scene as his physical manner of a man barely able to stand, basically in a writing condition of emotional distress creating the sense of a man both unable to deal with betraying Jesus but also unable to feel he can stand behind him either. The moment of the betrayal is fantastic, as the high priests tempt not with the money, but rather the charity money can buy. Anderson's moment of taking it, and giving up Jesus are outstanding as he portrays this internalized kind of detachment, as though Judas himself is wholly living with himself as he makes this decision. Now during the "Last Supper" sequence one can say we get the best of both aspects of Anderson's performance. This as when Jesus starts making accusations of betrayal, Anderson's face of knowing while hiding is great, before finally snapping into direct confrontation with him. Anderson's portrayal of the anger is striking because while it is most directly that here, it still is encased with a sense of frustration, and even shame in the last moment as he runs off. His expression rather heartbreaking as a man seemingly damned by fate. Again Anderson's work doesn't stop as the film shifts closer towards Jesus's trials. The brief glimpses we are granted Anderson doesn't waste as his face carries the weight of a true palatable guilt and grief for the man he loves. This until he finally returns his silver before committing suicide. This sequence Anderson is outstanding in through how quiet and even sentimental he begins it. This as his moments of remembrance along with a sense of despair. This before running to hang himself, where Anderson's vocals echo with such tremendous impact, of a man screaming at seemingly being made to be the betrayer rather truly choosing to be one. Now he does actually have one more scene, in the pseudo four wall break, where Judas donned in white return so to sing the titular song as an MC basically. Although a less emotional scene for him, still amazing because he's still singing. Frankly I'm surprised that Anderson didn't really seemingly get any major opportunities in film after this, because this is a stellar debut. Anderson gives  a mesmerizing musical performance, but he also gives a deeply emotional portrayal of Judas both in sound and silence.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Al Pacino in Scarecrow

Al Pacino did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Francis Lionel "Lion" Delbuchi in Scarecrow.

Scarecrow remains an under-seen film, if at the very least, on the virtue of the collaboration of two of the 70's premiere leading men, though of slightly different nature in the technically underrated former character actor of Hackman who managed to breakout bringing himself here on equal footing with the actor's actor Pacino still gliding along on his swift breakout. This film is a basic road picture two-hander as we follow two drifters who run into each other randomly on the road. One the self-proclaimed "meanest son of bitch alive" ex-convict Max, the other in Pacino's Lion. Pacino here plays a role that overarching is a bit against what he became best known for early in his career, as more tortured souls, and also differs greatly from the brash figures of his later career. This an atypical turn here as Pacino focuses something, that was almost alien in his breakout of The Godfather, which is charm. Of course to say this is Pacino attempting to coast on charm would be a gross misjudgment and really inaccurate statement. This is rather Pacino working within his early form of crafting a unique character, really from birth up so to speak, who happens to be a particular sort. This in his Lion who we meet as a sailor attempting to make his way in the world/see his son he never saw while out to sea, where he comes across the equally particular Max who invites him to go into a car wash business together, while they also go about making their personal stops along the way.

Pacino crafts a man who has essentially defined himself through avoiding conflicts and making friends. This as we see him in the opening scenes of the film where the two men walk along a road together, whom Max eyes with suspicion. This is until Lion mocks a comical phone call, which Pacino delivers with such a wonderful energy. Honestly you'd think this was Pacino's basic style with characters as he brings such a comfort in the routine, and shows this ease of the man within himself in this time. In this act though we easily see sort what would allow the hard Max to allow Lion into his good graces as we see the two go off together. Their initial conversation marked by Max being so blunt with glaring eyes at the potential eavesdropper, against a slouching Pacino who is just turned with slight bemusement to hearing what Max has to say. This comfort with one's self that Pacino just exudes so wonderfully, that is particularly remarkable considering his great ability in presenting the man so ill at ease at himself throughout the 70's. Pacino though captures this innate spirit in really transforming his typical presence entirely here. This in that he's an outgoing sort of man, which I love the way he maneuvers in making himself so particularly likable here. This as he even has this way of not "performing" as Lion as this constant to be a clown so to speak, but something that plays right into this initial conversation. This is as he interacts with Max, it is of listening to the man with such a genuine interest, that establishes Lion as a genuine friend, and not just a "performer". 

Although the "performance" side of Lion shouldn't be overlooked and it is a highlight in showing a more expressive Pacino, and expressive in a very different way for what he would become known for later in his career. Where the boisterous nature of his work became a later trademark, here Pacino is outgoing through not to control the scene excactly, but rather make it a bit brighter. Pacino delivers this dynamic energy of the performance of Lion with a key endearing quality, as his eyes perpetuate with an affection for the act. This not the idea of the man navel gazing, but rather sincerely overjoyed at bringing a laugh out of someone else. This as he explains his philosophy as a scarecrow as something makes crows laughing rather than trying to scare. Pacino speaks the words with an honesty though as this is Lion's philosophy of life. This as he says the idea of make others laugh as something to be held with pride, as his delivery is marked by a strictly genuine nature of the personality. Pacino has a softened edge here that is pitch perfect for giving such a real sense of who Lion is. You simply believe him in the role, and in addition are charmed by him. Pacino performs with that grace of someone just loving every minute of it, though this is fashioned within the idea of Lion as the performer who just loves to bring joy to others, even in sort of a haphazard, scarecrow like fashion.

In turn we get the sense of the dynamic between the two as Hackman is the hard man with a plan, easily angered by everyone and everything, while Pacino is almost this cure for the other man, and plays of Hackman beautifully. This realized particularly well by Pacino in two scenes, one where Max seems an inch away from a bar room brawl and another where Max tries to get him to help steal in a department store. In each Pacino sells the moment in terms of the sheer enthusiasm of the act as portraying Lion's full bodied throw into the act, whether that being fake manhandled by a mannequin or his spirited run around the department store as a bit too much of a distraction. Pacino is low key hilarious himself in just bringing such an energy. The energy though is specific as we see the way he diffuses each moment with that positive spirit, as Pacino brings that infinite joy of performance. This both seemingly in his own performance but most definitely in the idea of Lion who gets through life by making others laugh. This also though realizes such a captivating and compelling dynamic with Hackman. This despite the two obviously differing in personalities and style on and off screen. The two though work together because of this, as Hackman as the hard edge, against Pacino bringing this graceful way of softening every situation while accentuating any sort of silver lining he can.

This isn't to say Lion is perfect, and part of what does work about the film, is how we see this dynamic between the two attempting a completion of some sort. This in a pivotal relatively early scene where Max berates Lion for his lack of planning, particularly in regards to seeing his ex and his son, where his only plan is to make her "laugh". Pacino in the moment is wonderful in delivering the line so meekly yet earnestly. In that he captures this intention as a pure hope of Lion, however within that we are granted the sense in his eyes that he sees some truth in Max's words. We see then a real authenticity thought he interactions of the two on this basis. This as Pacino brings the calming force of Lion, but also a quiet sense of frustration, against the easily flustered Max. In turn we also see Max pushing him to do more, while also the louder sense of frustration at Lion's seemingly simple "go with the flow" attitude towards life. This eventually coming to a problem as the two of them find themselves on a prison work farm, from a combination of Lion's impulsiveness against Max's short fuse. This leading to the silent treatment of Max towards Lion, and Lion to attempt his charm elsewhere towards another prisoner who intends to exploit him sexually. The moment of this scene is a brilliantly performed by Pacino as we see again Lion attempt to diffuse the situation towards humor, in a quick improv bit of a goofy voice, which Pacino makes such an honest defense. This though then the fear that results when it doesn't work in Pacino's expression, that makes the moment all the more effective as we see Lion essentially without his shield.

Although Max avenges Lion's mistreatment, we see Lion's frustrations bubble to the surface with Max as he still is so easily incensed out of prison. Pacino's great by downplaying the scene with Hackman, in just evoking the quiet disappointment in his eyes, that slowly grows towards approval as he finally sees Max loosen up a bit by doing a bit of comedy himself. It's a great scene, that could feel extremely contrived, however it works because the two actors feel so honest in the moment, and in the slowly developed joy between the two of them as they share a connection. This in both show naturally how the two have rubbed off in each other. Unfortunately this is in a way short-lived as the film ends on Lion attempting to re-connect with his ex to see his son by calling. It is an amazing first in the phone call in the modest way Pacino approaches the scene, as we hear the shyness of his voice, this in showing Lion not in a place he can make a joke again, and struggles in the moment. All the same though he is able to convey in just this a sense of history in the relationship in his attempt at a low key warmth, but also that distance in the modest of past mistakes. The call ending in lie from his ex telling him that his child died. Pacino is amazing in the following sequence as we see that same energy now to this extreme, this dissonant extreme, of a man who has no idea what to do. This portraying him attempting his defense mechanism of joy by attempting to entertain then later "baptize" local children as this breakdown that is so powerfully performed. This as we see that enthusiasm now as a festering cry for some sort of help as his eyes are glowing with an insanity, and pressure of a man trying to hold his terrible sadness back. This in showing the breakdown so effectively as turning his old joyful routines as almost a horror show. This as Pacino gives one of the best scenes of his career showing the imploding of Lion basically into himself, as he can no longer even comfort himself through humor let alone anyone else. It's a striking end to what one of Pacino's lesser known turns, but also one of his best. An against type turn from him that he wholly delivers on, and creates an effortlessly captivating chemistry with another legend of the 70's.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Sean Connery in The Offence

Sean Connery did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Detective Sergeant Johnson in The Offence.

The Offence is a non-too pleasant though not ineffective film following a policeman losing a grip on his sanity.

Sean Connery is an actor who is more so known as a star than an actor, however the latter element is something that while could be forgotten in some of his more disposable commercial fair, is something that should not be when looking at his overall abilities as a talent. One director that seemed to see the potential of Connery was Sidney Lumet who cast him twice in two roles that were, while not entirely against type, pushed Connery past a comfort zone of the "man's man" presence of James Bond, to something far more notable, while working within the idea of a man partially defined by his masculinity, however not so simply. In The Hill, Connery showed an imprisoned soldier who individuality and cynicism led him towards a power struggle in a military prison. We once again return to a potentially more typical Connery role as a police detective who who get his men, even violently, however this is not treated in the way of your standard action film. We find Connery here as Detective Sergeant Johnson, a man who perhaps at one time lived for more romantic ideas of heroics, however as we enter the film we see something quite different, and in turn we see something quite different within the work of Sean Connery. Connery being an actor who thrives on his confident cool, here completely disposes of that here, to portray from the outset just this sense of anxiety within his eyes as we see the man just approaching the scene of a likely brutal crime in the opening of the film.

Connery does speak to his fellow officers with a ferocity of a former hard-boiled cop, although the anger within this seems even more severe than that in Connery's delivery. An anger alluding to something that has been festering within him for sometime. It is fascinating to see Connery here as his performance manages to create the surface of the tough police officer, but subtly within his eyes evokes a desperation within the man. This is something that brings itself to the surface as Johnson finds the latest victim of a pedophile. Connery's performance within the search is that of fear but also something a bit more uneasy as he finds the victim. Connery's performance in this scene is amazing, and such a different side to himself as a performer. This portraying this demented moment in his work that portrays a mental breakdown within his attempts to comfort the girl, making it any thing but comforting to the viewer. Connery manages to depict this strange fascination within the moment as he eases the girl into some sense of security. It isn't heartwarming, in Connery's performance that while does project an attempt at a sincere solace, also manages within his eyes this near insanity of the man as though he is living out in some detached state of fantasy. This brilliantly alluding to some deep seeded wound within Johnson's psyche that goes beyond this single instance of a such a horrible sight.

Outside of this more intimate scenario Connery returns Johnson seemingly to his fashioned state of the dogged detective, however even this is not Connery on auto-pilot, but rather depicting a man going on auto-pilot. Connery playing within the idea of a sledge hammer for the law, something that Connery is obviously able to support with his fierce presence as a performer, however once again here it is something far less pleasant than his usual heroes, and Connery in his own way even makes these moments carry this unpleasant intensity that make them their own strange act of desperation. His state is eventually tested as they seem to find the likely culprit Kenneth Baxter (Ian Bannen). Although we initially see glimpses of his interrogation of the man, this as Connery brings the violent imposing rage of the interrogator, however only glimpses as he attacks the man before being sent away for his actions. We our to return to that moment, but before that we see Johnson attempting to live out his night. We see him return home where Connery is simply incredible in delivering years of discontentment, along with the wounds of the night as he yells at his wife. Again Connery's performance is unrelenting, and effectively so, in showing a man who bordering on a complete mental breakdown, only living through violence of a certain kind.

Connery is outstanding in the moment as he proudly speaks initially of attacking the man, which Connery delivers as though it is this official recitation, and a long labored monologue to defending his actions. This as he continues the words it is with again a mania that creates a sense of complete derangement that Connery conveys before returning to a sense of clarity for a moment. This before when asked of the victim herself that the pains of the man return again to Connery's performance. His work is truly remarkable as he delivers an unexpected vulnerability as he speaks towards this pain regarding seeing so many horrible victims. Connery though goes further in showing the cracked state of mind as he keeps speaking as Connery's expression delivers this state that goes beyond pain, but rather this fundamental chaos of his mind that cannot fully comprehend how what he's gone through has changed him. Connery's performance not only expresses the strange situation of the mind of Johnson within the scenario, a man twisted within his work, and shows a completely different side of himself as a performer. This is not by going entirely against his type, but rather rather garnering a different type of depth to a potentially more typical Connery role. This part pushes Connery, and he goes along with it to show his greater potential as an actor.

This as Connery creates a different portrait of the brutal detective, here as we see Johnson slowly unravel himself in front of us. This as in the final scenes of the film where he himself is interrogated by a superior Trevor Howard, where Connery certainty in his initial candor slowly breaks down to just a sorrow of his state of a man. This as we see the interrogator interrogated, and Connery depicts a brilliant mess of sorts as he delivers this attempt at this stake of that confidence, however always falls towards this harrowing vulnerability. Connery making this grotesque, yet still natural state of the man attempting to be one thing, yet in a way torn down into another, by that attempt. We see this even more so in the final scene of the film where we flashback to his one on one interrogation of Baxter. This as Connery begins as the "good cop" however this act as he speaks to the man, it is with a false bravado of a man speaking towards his own pains even as his words are a man supposedly easing the man into the interrogation. Baxter's lack of relaxation quickly resorts to Johnson manhandling Baxter, however even this physical act is a stroke of brilliance on the part of Connery's performance. This as he handles certainly with violent intensity, as you'd expect, however it is less striking, and almost sexual as this act of control and dominance, rather than of just harm. Baxter though strikes back, not through violence himself, but rather words as he speaks towards Johnson's broken mind through his growing state of becoming like the men he has been tracking for so long. In this moment Connery brings back the forceful detective, however even this is still of this wretched act, of a searing emotion. This as his eyes of a blind demented state before himself breaking down which Connery depicts with a sincerity of the man giving into those demons that have been underneath the surface throughout. This before returning to violence where Connery's state is not one of cool emotion, but a emotional mess of a man filled with both a strange sadism and masochism wrapped within the act. Connery delivers a great performance here as he manages to create the real complexity of this man being broken by the vices he himself attempts to destroy. Connery makes this a convincing descent and in doing so, also provides a striking reminder of his talent that goes beyond that of his star persona.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Results

5. Robert Mitchum in The Friends of Eddie Coyle - Well this is unpleasant. I hate putting any of these performances "last" because they're all great, but I have to choose one. Anyway Mitchum gives a great performance giving this quietly devastating portrait of a man who essentially wasted his life.

Best Scene: "what a future he’s got, huh"

4. Robert Shaw in The Hireling-  Shaw gives a heartbreaking performance here showing a different shade of his talent in his powerful realization of a lonely man seeking love.

Best Scene: Declaration of Love.

3. Donald Sutherland in Don't Look Now - Sutherland's performance is both an unforgettable depiction of man struggling with his grief and also so effectively helps to realize the spine chilling horror of the film.

Best Scene: Seeing the Inspector.

2. Elliott Gould in The Long Goodbye - Gould gives a brilliantly funny and always compelling performance in his rather contradictory yet most effective take on Phillip Marlowe.

Best Scene: "I even lost my cat"

1. Edward Woodward in The Wicker Man - Edward Woodward gives a masterful performance that works as normalcy against the unknown, as a portrait of zealous if foolish conviction, and harrowing depiction of facing unspeakable horrors. This year frankly deserves multiple winners by the sheer quality of so many of the leading turns.

Best Scene: Seeing the titular man. 

Updated Overall

Next: 1973 Supporting

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Robert Shaw in The Hireling

Robert Shaw did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Steven Ledbetter in The Hireling.

The Hireling, though at times curiously directed, is an effective film about the relationship between a recently widowed Lady and her chauffeur.

Although I've been an enthusiastic supporter of all of Robert Shaw's many memorable supporting turns until this performance I have never reviewed any of his leading turns. This is the first and a rather different side of Shaw given we are usually left a bit more of distance given he's not the lead. This is also Shaw in a very different role, far from his say his villainous turn in The Sting also in 73, or even the other leading turns I've seen him in which have been "men on a mission" films. We are introduced to Shaw's Ledbetter as the hireling, used to drive the Lady Franklin (Sarah Miles) who has recently been released from a mental clinic for her crippling depression after the death of her husband. Shaw actually rather quiet in the early scenes of the film as Ledbetter fulfills his duties with a proper "yes, my lady" at the end of every confirmation. I will say it took just a bit of getting used to this Shaw as this driver, though no fault of his own, as Shaw just has that certain look about him as though he's planning on killing someone even though he's not, though I should note this quality in Shaw actually ends up being an asset to his characterization in the end.

Before all that though we get this other side to Shaw as Ledbetter drives around the Lady Franklin. Shaw isn't surprising,  it's Robert Shaw we're talking about here to begin with, but it rather remarkable to see Shaw in this more unassuming role. Shaw's approach though is atypical even in a part like this, that being the working class "friend" helping a wealthy person become a better person in some way. The reason being Shaw actually keeps the idea of class in mind in his work. In that Shaw, rather than making Ledbetter some free spirit from the get go, still shows the certain stilted quality in the interactions particularly through the unnatural delivery of "My Lady" at the end of every response. What makes this so effective in developing the relationship is the way Shaw is able to convey essentially the concern in Ledbetter, in just his slight glance Shaw is able to reveal a bit of empathy towards her suggesting the way Ledbetter comes to understand that the Lady needs support.

Shaw is excellent as he carefully works in this warmth in Ledbetter's words towards the lady, and begins to try to get to help her recover from her losses in some way. He even offers his own support by comparing the Lady to his wife and naming his children. There is such a strong affection as he speaks these words though it is towards the Lady not towards his wife and children. This is just the subtle touch though in Shaw's work though as there is such a genuine charm that Shaw brings in Ledbetter's general encouraging spirit towards the Lady. As the Lady slowly becomes more outgoing and seems to be recovering from her depression, Shaw mirrors this interestingly by offering Ledbetter as becoming all the more outgoing towards the Lady. He still keeps some of the structure of class requirement but Shaw reveals all the more of generosity in Ledbetter. This sort of culminates as he takes the Lady to a boxing matches, by students he teach, and Shaw reveals such endearing joy from Ledbetter as he not only sees her happy as well but is able to spend time with her.

Unfortunately Ledbetter is not all that he seems, though this is not to reveal some truly duplicitous sort. We are shown Ledbetter's real life where he works at his dirty garage and is alone besides the occasion liaison with local waitress, having made up his wife and family. Shaw here reveals not the real man or the false man, but rather what Ledbetter is without the Lady by his side. An underlying theme within the film is the trauma of World War I though that is not often brought up. Shaw's brilliant though because he shows that those experiences are merely a part of Ledbetter's existence. Shaw uses that through his usual intensity but this time adjusting it to reveal this internalized pain that is almost a constant. Shaw is careful in that he shows that Ledbetter is not constantly in anguish, rather though there is this discomfort of mind and soul that alludes to the horrors that the man had to experience. Shaw shows that this leaves him unable to find solace with the exception of when he is with the Lady Franklin, and that is where Shaw so effectively reveals a true happiness.

Ledbetter though finds his services less and less required, to the growing health of the Lady, and her finding a companion in an unfaithful upper class sort. Ledbetter in turn attempts to find any way back to the Lady, which includes faking a car breakdown and random service calls. This is no romantic comedy though where this behavior will turn out well for all. Shaw is horrible to watch in these scenes, and no that is not a criticism. Shaw makes it more than a little painful to watch at times as he exudes this burden in these moments. This tension of a man basically waiting to hear the woman he loves to say the words. That sense of waiting is there and Shaw places these moments of hesitation as though Ledbetter is leaving gaps hoping she will say the words within them. There's one particularly powerful scene where Ledbetter says nothing but names his false ill-fortunes. This scene is a little curious in some of the director, Alan Bridges, choices but Shaw is on point. Shaw speaks the words that are meaningless to Ledbetter, yet in his face there is such a terrible longing as he wants to say more yet cannot bring himself to do so. The most moving moment though of that scene actually is when the Lady asks Ledbetter's first name, and Shaw expresses such agonizing realization as Ledbetter the distance between them since she does not even know his full name.

Unfortunately again the film is not done ripping one's heart out as Ledbetter finally does decide to express his love to the Lady Franklin. The scene is incredible for Shaw as he portrays such a desperation and is absolutely heartbreaking by being such miserable mess. Shaw though makes the emotion absolutely raw and honest in his declaration of love though making it all the more painful as she rejects him. Shaw in that scene showed a man basically at his end, though still with love in his heart, but this changes in his final scene where he crashes a date between the Lady and her rich unfaithful suitor. Shaw's a different kind of mess here, and it's fascinating scene as he depicts another breakdown though this time defined by hate rather than affection. Shaw is outstanding though as he presents a man lower than rock bottom flailing around drunk on alcohol, but also through his intense sorrows at seeing that his chance for happiness was a lie. This is an amazing performance by Robert Shaw giving such tragic yet tender depiction of this lonely man, that is another angle of his immense talent.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Edward Woodward in The Wicker Man

Edward Woodward did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Sergeant Howie in The Wicker Man.

The Wicker Man is an effective horror film, other than a couple of strange musical choices, about a police officer traveling to a remote Scottish island to investigate the disappearance of a girl.

Edward Woodward plays the police officer and is our entry point into the strange island which is the setting of the film. There is a brief introduction on the mainland where we witness Woodward dutifully perform his duties as a Catholic in church before going off to perform his duties as a police officer after receiving a letter noting the disappearance of a girl. Woodward's performance is pivotal in establishing the tone of the film given that he is on such another wavelength than the rest of the actors as the islanders. The ensemble of the islanders, except Christopher Lee as Lord Summerisle, as these odd "simple" folk where they are have this unsettling sinister joviality. Woodward is a complete separation from every else by presenting the complete outsider that is Howie, although this is not quite the more usual leading horror performance more on that later. Woodward though offers the right representation of a normality as he first arrives to the island and begins his investigation.

Woodward offers a strict reality with his performance and with that he assures that Howie has that separation of from the islanders. Woodward does something very important which is that he does not inflict his performance with any unnecessary style or needless mannerisms which in turn only amplifies the rest of the ensemble. Woodward at the core of his performance establishes the reflection of traditional society against the strange society of the islanders. When he first arrives Woodward is excellent by portraying the genuine reaction that would come from being accosted by such odd passive aggression right for the moment he merely asks for help to reach the shore from his plane. Woodward helps to convey the unpleasantness of this place by so earnestly portraying the sheer disbelief in Howie that would most likely would be the reaction of any person to the islanders seeming lack of concern for the life of the missing girl.

That is not all there is to Woodward's performance, as again this is not just the normal protagonist of a horror film as the sane man trying to figure things out. It's a bit different. Although Woodward does a proper representation of normalcy Howie brings more to the island than that. Howie is a strict law officer and a strict Christian in addition to that which Woodward utilized to be a powerful element in his performance. As noted intense actors go Edward Woodward truly needs to be named far more often than he is, as he's one of the very best at it. Woodward utilizes this intensity brilliantly here as he fashions it within his performance so naturally. Woodward utilizes it so well in revealing exactly Howie's state on the island. On one end the strict way Woodward presents himself, very to the point and with a directness is fitting to a law officer. Woodward extends this further though in portraying also the this as a part of his own beliefs. The Christian values in Howie, Woodward upholds through a depiction of a  tense undeniable conviction.

Woodward presents Howie well as a truly righteous man at the very least in his own eyes, and often plays the part as the man attempting to bring some sort of justice in what seems to be a Godless island. In that sense Woodward cut through every scene like a razor in the way he so incisively proceeds with Howie's investigation. Woodward never makes it merely the investigation though, even though that aspect Woodward emphasis most strongly that also offers Howie's most sympathetic attitude. There is not a single scene where Woodward is not captivating to watch because of how he handles every scene. It's amazing in the way that Woodward realizes this very idea of kind of a proper societal oversight in the film. Woodward in a way makes Howie both seem absolutely in command yet wholly out of his element all the same. In every moment of the investigation, as he questions the whereabouts of the girl, Woodward's performance makes Howie the irreproachable detective who will discover whatever mystery that island holds.

Woodward plays with that conviction towards solving the case also in his conviction towards his own faith. Woodward is terrific in portraying this disdain Howie has towards the villagers would seem to relish in all behaviors that Howie finds morally reprehensible. Woodward takes this further than merely a possible puritanical attitude towards their more lax views on open sexuality, as he shows this disdain churning to disgust as he comes to know that the islanders are pagans. The severity of the reaction Woodward conveys shows this not to be merely Howie hating a religion that is not his own, rather he contributes this sense of disbelief that in his modern times such a community could even exist that reject his own beliefs. Woodward does have that intensity of the zealot but this does not make Howie as distant as the villagers to the viewer. This again because Woodward does layer this to further convey the notion that there is something seriously wrong with the villagers, particularly in the classroom scene where Howie admonishes their psychotic lack of empathy in the school children due to seemingly having no concern whatsoever for their own classmate. Woodward makes Howie's cause a righteous one, even if Howie can be rather self-righteous.

The island though slowly reveals itself to be even more sinister than just the general rudeness of its denizens as they seem to be building towards their annual festival which may entail human sacrifice. Woodward excels in portraying the frustrations in dealing with the antagonist locals own disdain for his beliefs particularly Lord Summerisle. What's so good about Woodward's work though is the way reveals that every time Howie's resolve is hit, Woodward expresses this building back towards his confidence that he in the right. He does this rather quickly, but Woodward importantly shows that it still must be done. The most severe test before the climax comes when the landlord's daughter of the inn he's staying at attempts to seduce him. Woodward again does reveal the difficulty in his resolve as Howie almost succumbs to the advances, though he's able to stop himself. I love though how Woodward again presents the resolve having returned summed best by his oh so proper delivery of Howie's explanation of his rejection to the woman. Now before tackling the climax of the performance, which is a quite thing all in itself. This performance up until that point is an outstanding piece work. He makes Howie understood as a man, but he also helps to create that terrible sense of isolation that is so pervasive in the film through this. He is so unlike the other performances, yet again though Howie is a particular sort of man Woodward still makes him an honest one. This makes the horror of the film all the more unsettling particularly as he arrives to the finale where he discovers that someone is going to be sacrificed unfortunately, it's him.

Woodward is simply amazing for every second of the final scene. In the early part of the scene as Woodward shows the effort in Howie as he is trying to come to grips with what is happening, and almost in a certain disbelief in if the villagers really are serious. This changes severely when he sees the wicker man in full view. Woodward's reaction  realizes the terror by the sheer terror he expresses in the moment. It horrifying as he makes the fear real. Woodward never loses the fear for the rest of the scene and is harrowing as he grants the situation a genuine gravity. Woodward does not become one note, which would almost be warranted, nevertheless Woodward makes the most of what remains. Woodward depicts the painful attempt to basically gain his resolve once again as he pleads with the islanders trying to explain that the sacrifice will be meaningless. When this does not work though I love the vicious anger, alluding to perhaps a justice in the end, he directs right at Lord Summerisle by stating that the Lord will be next to fill the burning man. No reprieve is granted and Woodward again is unforgettable. Woodward makes the terror so vivid in his disturbing yet heartbreaking final anguish. As he reveals this proper mess of fear, hatred but also just an attempt at solace as he holds onto his own faith one last time.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Robert Mitchum in The Friends of Eddie Coyle

Robert Mitchum did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying the titular Eddie "Fingers" Coyle in The Friends of Eddie Coyle.

The Friends of Eddie Coyle is a terrific film, finding the tone Killing Them Softly failed to find in adapting this film's source material's followup, about an intersecting group of criminals centering around an old small time crook

Robert Mitchum plays the lead role of Eddie Coyle, though this is technically a smaller leading role, he's lead but the film spends ample time with the other people within the crime world Eddie is associated with. Mitchum though is the center point for a reason in his depiction of Eddie Coyle, which is a performance that must be stated that it is brilliant from the get go then dissect why. Again Robert Mitchum is not constantly front and center in the film, and what he does is so much within his performance it is something truly remarkable. Now in Mitchum first scene we have him meet one of his first associates and it's incredibly what Mitchum does here. Mitchum very much embraces his age in the role, and never tries to hide it. In fact he quite embraces, amplifying it even by wearing these hard years within himself. He doesn't create a falsehood in this regard, as he does not attempt to try to show this old timer whose really tougher than all these young ins, which I'm sure Mitchum could have pulled off. Mitchum though instead far more effectively reveals who Eddie is, which is an old manstill in the criminal life.

Mitchum just is this old Boston crook, with a great Boston accent by the way, and takes it so much further from there. In that initial scene, although his face says the truth, now Mitchum shows Eddie's attempt to be more than he is but it is only an attempt. As he describes where his little moniker comes from there is this strained attempt at being some man he may have been in the past, or might not have been in reality. There's a real sadness hidden within Mitchum's work as he attempts to express this confidence of real tough within a man who has lived a hard life yet that is still meaningless within the world he lives in. Mitchum never focuses upon a single emotion and that is part of the incredible nuance in his performance though. As even in this exchange with one of his associates, even as he's trying to act tough in a way, Mitchum though even conveys just the right bit of history with still the right kind of comfort speaking to someone who he's known for awhile, he realizes this aspect so well throughout the film with every one of Eddie's "friends".

Mitchum creating the actual sense of any camaraderie to the other criminals he associates with is pivotal since it makes the story all the crueler for Eddie. The reason for that being that Eddie is an informant, aiding ATF agent Dave Foley (Richard Jordan) in taking down his various friends in an attempt to try to avoid his prison sentence of at least two years. Mitchum is amazing in the role though in every one of his scenes with Jordan because of how much he reveals about in Eddie in these scenes. As when it seems like Foley might be able to help him Mitchum projects a pride in Eddie, putting up again a certain front to try to be more than he is. Mitchum though again creates a duality in this as there is a weakness in this pride, the effort behind that can be felt which is purposeful in Mitchum's work. As Mitchum shows Eddie basically trying to convince himself he's doing the right thing by giving these bits of information out, Mitchum manages to create empathy within Eddie despite his actions seeming largely selfish in nature.

We are given a glimpse of Eddie at home with his wife and kids. Mitchum actually very good in these scenes by just being so straight forward in presenting Eddie as just a nice father and husband no more, no less. Mitchum though importantly does show exactly that Eddie does have something he cares about. Furthermore Mitchum, when Foley demands more information or fails to really provide any real benefit for the information that Eddie provides him. Mitchum again is excellent in never simplifying the emotional reaction which further helps to explain the man. Mitchum grants the expected frustrations towards Foley as he gets nothing in return but he also does reveal a real pain in Eddie as he speaks about giving up his friends who trust him. There's an outstanding moment late in the film where Eddie approaches Foley with an additional bit of information that will lead to the arrest of more of his friends. In the approach Mitchum presents the struggle and sense of self-loathing in his hesitant delivery. This makes it all the more torturous when Foley coldly reveals that the information is useless since the men have already been arrested. 

The Friends of Eddie Coyle, in great detail, shows the methods of the criminals as they undergo long lengths to commit their crimes in almost a French Connection style and also reveals that there is no honor among anyone in the organization. In turn Eddie's story is not one about redemption, or overcoming the odds to get out. It's about the last days of crook who never really made it anywhere, and no one truly cares about all that much. This sad truth is within the entirety of Mitchum's performance though again with only the weak attempts to create some sort of rationalization that he's more than he is, and will have an actual future. At the end of the film though Eddie run out of options, since he doesn't really have anyone else to turn in, and Mitchum reveals the palatable despair in Eddie as he no longer can create any delusions. What I love again though is the film never stops exactly to tells us about Eddie's state it so effortlessly within Mitchum's work. There is one particularly powerful moment near the end of the film where Eddie ponders about the promise in the future of a young Hockey player. Eddie does not speak about himself yet Mitchum is heartbreaking by in his face expressing that self-reflection of a man who knows he's essentially wasted his life.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Donald Sutherland in Don't Look Now

Donald Sutherland did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite being nominated for a BAFTA, for portraying John Baxter in Don't Look Now.

Don't Look Now is an effective horror film about a husband and wife dealing with strange events after the drowning of their young daughter.

Well once again returning to Donald Sutherland in a leading role and once again curiously dealing with a role in which his character is dealing with the death of his child due to drowning. Sutherland, despite his character dealing with a very similar tragedy as his work in Ordinary People, did not simply give a repetition of this performance in that later film. A pivotal reason for this is where we come into the tragedy. In Ordinary People much time has past and the focus is upon dealing with this surviving son. That's not the intention of Don't Look Now as the film opens with drowning where Sutherland's John Baxter senses something is wrong, but fails to rescue his daughter in time. Now that scene alone is a harrowing moment in Sutherland's performance as he reflects the intensity and rawness of grief first realized. The film though then switches to the couple in Vienna a short time later where John is working to help restore an old Church.

Sutherland's approach in the succeeding scenes is particularly effective in the way he presents the grief of John. Sutherland often times on the most exterior surface of his performance will deliver his lines as though there is nothing wrong, and when doing his work in particular Sutherland offers a man attempting to go forward with his life. What makes this remarkable though is the way Sutherland in no way hides the grief in that he is able to portray a man trying to get along with life best he can. Of course Sutherland does show that is not really the truth in his own performance. That intensity even found in the first scene, though no longer overt is still apparent as Sutherland instead internalizes as part of what John is. Although Sutherland does not always direct the sorrow, the sorrow is always apparent. Sutherland shows that John does not wear it particularly well. John does not say what is wrong, even tries to act like there isn't anything wrong at times, but Sutherland keeps that loss alive within his performance even when it is not focused upon.

Sutherland shows that John is acting as though he is attempting move on in some way which is against his wife Laura (Julie Christie) who becomes easily fascinated when a blind woman who claims to be able to see their a daughter. Sutherland excels in these moments as he finds the right complexity within John's state and further shows that it is less a state of attempting to move on but rather a state of denial. The way Sutherland works this is very natural in it difficulty, in that he even makes John's occasional humorous moments a little difficult to take as there is still this innate sadness in even these moments. When he is forced to more directly relive this tragedy due to the "psychic's" communications with his wife. Sutherland is excellent in his realization of the man's pain through the mix of emotion he shows. There's the moment where he tries to move his wife past it and in that moment Sutherland brings that attempt to sort of close himself off from the problem. When she keeps engaging with the blind woman though Sutherland grants a passive aggression in his performance suggesting an anger in John at being reminded of his loss so directly.

In this we also see John's relationship with his wife. Sutherland and Christie are interesting together as they bring this right sort of detached chemistry. In that the two do suggest there was a clear loving relationship between the two as there are a few moments of warmth of two old lovers, as well as that sex scene, which seems even more famous than the film itself, and there's a reason for that. In those moments though they bring the right connection at times, but so often that is not their relationship. At the other times, particularly when Laura listens to the medium, they do well to provide that contrast in view and reaction to their mutual loss. They in turn manage to effectively realize that towards their interactions which are not always loving. The regrets and problems stemming from their loss particularly on Sutherland's end when his delivery or reaction can often be short if not wholly cold towards Christie. Sutherland again excels so much in terms of truly defining the way the grief defines John's state in the film. Sutherland's brilliant because he gives that man who is trying so hard to keep it together yet this only results in a certain self-inflicted torture. 

Of course Don't Look Know is a horror film, and Sutherland's work is also essential to the film's success in this regard, as he becomes the sole lead for the last third of the film after Christie's Laura apparently goes home to England.  John though believes he sees her still in Venice attending a funeral, and he goes off to try to find her. Now the pivotal part of Sutherland's performance is that he does not allow these scenes not to only be a showcase for Nicholas Roeg's atmospheric direction. Sutherland is never lost within these scenes and is particularly moving in portraying the intensity of fear in John as he searches for her. The unease and anxiety is palatable through Sutherland as he helps create this sense of dread through his honesty of his performance. Sutherland also plays the role as a man truly going through these strange events which makes these scenes all the more off-putting. Sutherland internalizes the instability of being in the strange place and that haunted quality as John struggles to find an answer to his question. Sutherland never forgets the crux of his character which is the loss of his daughter, which becomes all the more prevalent as John keeps seeing a strange figure in the same rain coat that his daughter died in. Sutherland portrays the unexpressed sorrow revealing itself as he looks upon the figure, and is heart wrenching by gradually revealing the extent of his suffering as John attempts to learn the nature of figure. Donald Sutherland's work here is key to the success of the film which slowly gets under your skin. Sutherland is never in a "genre" film so to speak. He gives an intimate and powerfully honest performance that makes the horror within the film all the more chilling.

Alternate Best Actor 1973: Elliott Gould in The Long Goodbye

Elliott Gould did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Philip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye.

The Long Goodbye is a terrific neo noir by Robert Altman that modernizes private detective Philip Marlowe.

Elliot Gould after his breakout in the late 60's found himself in a career slump due to his behavior on the set of the film that eventually became What's Up Doc, and I would imagine his performance in Ingmar Bergman's The Touch did not help matters. Robert Altman though cast him here as Philip Marlowe which seems like a rather curious casting choice on paper. The role of Philip Malowe is usually reserved for tough guy actors like Humphrey Bogart, James Garner, James Caan, and even later on in the seventies Robert Mitchum. This is not a traditional representation of the role though, and not simply because it was given a contemporary setting. The film opens not with Marlowe taking care of a case but rather dealing with his cat who has gotten hungry in the middle of the night. This Marlowe lives in a lonely apartment but with a group of frequently nude hippie women live across the way from him. Don't take that as a glamorous setting because it's really not.

Marlowe, after attempting and failing to find the right cat food, still doesn't get a case just request to drive his friend Terry, who claims to have fought with his wife, to Tijuana. Gould casting suddenly starts to make sense as this is not the Marlowe of Bogart, and I'd say may have influenced Doc Sportello of Inherent Vice. Gould does not seem like a fit for a tough guy, and his performance isn't as a tough guy. The thing is he isn't separate entirely from the character either, he is Philip Marlowe but entirely Elliott Gould's Philip Marlowe. To explain, Gould's performance is not without the traits of Marlowe, and what is set up around the character. As required of a P.I. in the forties he smokes in basically every scene, and he always wears a suit. Again those features of Marlowe though not exactly Gould's performance per se. Gould's performance feels as though he is a Marlowe though is perhaps more of as an actual private detective rather than the hero of a detective novel.

That is not to say that this what one would charge as a "realistic" performance, not that it is fantastical though. Gould gives us perhaps the Marlowe of being in the life as he is and would be in as a private detective. Gould's delivery often is curious yet intriguing to the character in as he drifts out of conversations with those who really are not interested in him all that much. It's something brilliant though in this and the way Gould plays it. In that maybe the tough guy Marlowe might say similair things and seem "cool", the way Gould suggests perhaps a certain loneliness in this act as thought he man's life is made of these cursory interactions. Of course Marlowe has his time when he does get a bit more attention, where he fits in the role as the protagonist of a film noir. That begins as the cops come by the question Marlowe about the disappearance of his friend who asked for the ride, and the brutal death of that man's wife.

As Marlowe is arrested, on a trumped up charge, we are given a Marlowe perhaps more in his element as he deals with the police. Gould is rather hilarious in this scene as he kind of talks around the cops and makes fun of them for their severe attitude. Again though there something genius in how Gould approaches this in again he is the film noir hero, but he's also not at all. This is also apparent in his scenes where he deals with a strange vicious criminal Augustine (Mark Rydell) and his gang who wants money that was being kept by Terry which Augustine thinks was given to Marlowe. Gould seems to fulfill kind of the typical way of acting above those interrogating him and trying to menace him. As typical he's pretty calm and collected, kind of above it all while showing a certain disdain towards them. Gould even fulfills the requirement in that he's indeed rather enjoyable to watch in these scenes, but all of it is not truly in the normal way. Instead of being the master of the room, Gould plays it somewhat adrift as someone really would come across as who is not taking such a situation seriously. It is so different yet it still absolutely works.

That also is again not how Gould plays every scene as the detective, he carefully only plays scenes that way when technically the situation is a waste of time for Marlowe. We are also given scenes where we actually see him in action such as when he is hired to find a writer, Roger Wade (Sterling Hayden), by the man's wife Eileen Wade. Marlowe quickly finds the husband at a shady detox center, and even sneaks in to help the man escape. These scenes are actually a brilliant bit of directing by Altman, though Gould is important within them. Altman though directs them in this purposefully kind of low key way while Gould portrays more of that assertiveness of behavior that would be more fitting to more of closeups with some more pronounced edits. Marlowe saves the man and it soon becomes as though there is no mystery to anyone besides Marlowe. Here's kind of a part of the key of Gould's whole performance that makes it take a step further than it might have been as this approach could've been parody but it's not. It's something truly fascinating.

Gould again is adrift in those meaningless, to him, interrogation scenes but he's not that way towards the mystery that involves people that Marlowe does care about. Gould does bring this palatable undercurrent of an emotional connection there. When he quizzes Wade's wife on knowing more than she acts as though she does, there is a severity in his voice, and Gould makes Marlowe as someone who cares. There is something even more to this as again he's being the film noir hero, but this takes on yet another purpose that is surprisingly poignant. In that Gould again shows that Marlowe does care and the way he does, while no one else seems to, is made rather moving even. The performance in a way I found to be covert in its emotional impact. Now it was already an entertaining engaging work, but it's more. There's an incredible scene that closes the film where Marlowe finally "solves his problem". It is very cathartic moment as Gould attaches the emotion within that goes beyond just getting the villain so to speak. Gould reflects a further attachment of the personal betrayal involved but also the satisfaction of essentially being truly "Philip Marlowe". What Gould does here is this remarkable contradiction of a characterization. In that Gould has the features of that noir detective, Philip Marlowe. He's in the seventies though, and he's not exactly as everyone else should be yet he feels entirely natural to himself because of Gould's work. Gould never falls into caricature, but makes sense of this contradiction of character. This is such daring work that absolutely succeeds in terms of creating something completely new out of something old. I loved this performance.

Alternate Best Actor 1973

And the Nominees Were Not:

Donald Sutherland in Don't Look Now

Robert Shaw in The Hireling

Robert Mitchum in The Friends of Eddie Coyle

Elliott Gould in The Long Goodbye

Edward Woodward in The Wicker Man

Best Bond: Roger Moore in Live and Let Die

Roger Moore became the third man to portray James Bond in Live and Let Die.

Live and Let Die is not a particularly good Bond film. Although Yaphet Kotto is a little bit of fun, and there are some cool moments, like the murderous funeral procession, on a whole the film is rather lackluster. Its attempts in genre bending in almost blacksploitation, and broad comedy involving a hillbilly sheriff just seem odd. The worst part though in Bond terms is that the film just sort of peters out at the end.

Where On Her Majesty's Secret Service took precautions in revealing the change of actor as Bond even having George Lazenby break the fourth wall at the end of his first scene, Roger Moore just shows up as Bond there is not any pomp or circumstance involving this. He just is Bond and so the film goes off with that. Where George Lazenby never really gripped Bond in any sort of way as a character, Roger Moore on the other hand does go about taking on a specific approach as James Bond. His take on Bond is to avoid really any of that darker side that suggests the killer side of the spy game instead focuses on being Bond as just the suave spy.

Moore goes for being as light weight a Bond as possible which just goes for pretty much staying a the tone of the charming Bond who likes to say his quips. Well this approach lies a big problem which is Moore particular attempt at being charismatic. Although Moore does have screen presence, way more than Lazenby, he never has the type of charm that Connery brought to the role so naturally. Where Connery avoided being alienating in his portrayal Moore at times seems to trying for it through his smug approach to Bond. When he shows Bond enjoying himself over his defeat of a baddie or saying a quip he seems laughing entirely to himself without really letting the audience in as Connery did so well.

Moore stays so firm in his portrayal of taking everything in such a light fashion that comes off quite odd whenever he is required to do anything else really. For example when Bond is told he is going to be killed he barely reacts at all, and not in a way like he is too cool to be phased by it either, therefore really making seem like there is no threat in the situation. His Bond never seems like he could die because his performance is so excessively self assured that of course he will get out of every situation alive. This really does not work at all for Bond. Of course Bond is going to live, its James Bond after all, but a key to films like this is to at least create an illusion that he could die something Connery did do, but Moore doesn't even try.

Another moment I found almost hilarious due to Moore's way of portraying it is when he interrogates a false agent by saying basically "Well I'll just have to kill you" he is so nonchalant about the thing it comes of as unintentionally funny. There is no emphasis in his performance he just goes about every scene in that same manner, and the problem is he does not even do the lighter moments that well. He again must make the quips and in this regard he is no match for Connery. He is better at it than Lazenby to a certain degree as at least it seems like he knows why he is saying it, but he is a far cry from Connery which is serious problem as this aspect of Bond is where Moore seems the most at home.

The one aspect where I did feel George Lazenby was decent as Bond was the physical nature of the role. This is actually the worst part of Moore's portrayal of Bond. For a lack of a better way to describe it Moore just never seems particularly into the action. He just kind of fights, and is there but he never seems to really become part of it as Bond really should. He always seems stiff even in the fights, and he just never seems to be fighting for his life in any way. This really makes it so many of the action scenes do not come to life because the man in the center seems frankly disinterested at times. Honestly his inability in these scenes really leave me to question why he continued to go on as Bond since he is not even a good action hero.

Moore continued to be Bond for a record six more films portraying Bond the most times out of any actor (Connery does tie though if you count the non EON Never Say Never Again). I suppose maybe it was easy to make films around him since he plays basically every scene the same way whether it is romantic, espionage, or action related. Maybe the fact that he just stays the same is what allowed the filmmakers to say you know what Bond needs to do, go into space, fight an invincible man with giant metal teeth, and warn everyone about a nuclear bomb with clown make up on. His Bond certainly was consistent, but the problem was he only tried for that light comedic touch in his performances. The problem for is he doesn't even do this particularly well. Yes Moore did take a stand with the character, unlike his predecessor Lazenby, but it was the wrong stand to take.