Monday, 30 June 2025

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2017: Kōji Yakusho in The Third Murder & Results

Kōji Yakusho did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Misumi Takashi in The Third Murder. 

The Third Murder follows a defense attorney Tomoaki Shigemori (Masaharu Fukuyama) for a man who murdered his boss. Sounds like a straightforward mystery or courtroom drama but given it is Kore-eda, if only it twere so simple. 

Kōji Yakusho this time around is decidedly not playing the kindly bathroom cleaner in Perfect Days, the last film I reviewed him for, something that is abundantly obvious in the opening of this film that is perhaps the clearest picture of the intention of Yakusho’s character Misumi, but then again maybe not. What we do see is a double act of brutality as Misumi not only bludgeons the man, his boss, to death he then sets the corpse on fire. This seemingly is the undisputed act of the piece and perhaps our best method to understanding the enigma of this character…maybe. Yakusho’s performance in the scene, which we assume is real at the very least and the facts as presented. There is a hostile extreme in the act and Yakusho presents us with a violent man. Something that seems to fit when Misumi was formerly imprisoned for murder avoiding the death penalty only by the act of Shigemori’s father who was Misumi’s judge. Leaving Shigemori to essentially try to figure out why this man was deserving of such mercy, something that will not be easy for him or the viewer in uncovering the enigma that is Misumi. Yakusho’s performance here is brilliant right off the bat because of how much he frustrates you in a way by his ability to answer questions while not saying a damn thing about anything. When his defense team first meets him, inquiring about the crime and essentially trying to reduce the sentence by making it more of a side effect of a robbery, Yakusho’s performance seems almost disinterested by the questions. Yakusho has the vibe of a career criminal in a way looking for the “cheapest” way out of a situation he’s been in before. He’s captivating though because he’s not precisely that, he’s sort of that, as that sort of disinterest is only can be a criminal to treat his obviously severe crime as just something for him to throw away. He makes you sorta believe this but the problem is there’s the edge of every word where Yakusho is presenting at least a slight or severe lie in his eyes in each delivery. 

You can’t believe the man so clearly particularly when it becomes clear the robbery came after the murder therefore requiring a new defense if there is any chance at avoiding the death penalty. So the next try is to suggest he was motivated by the murdered man’s wife to kill her husband as some sort of illicit lover’s pact. Something that when Misumi’s asked about it he doesn’t deny, but doesn’t confirm either. Again Yakusho’s performance is key to all of this because he too doesn’t confirm or deny it either. Which could be an excuse just to be nothing but it is the something that Yakusho plays around with that makes him so transfixing in his vexing qualities. When asked point blank about an affair, Yakusho’s shrug is a masterclass of alluding to something but not quite alluding to enough. There’s some kind of embarrassment, and suddenly you can perceive him as a different kind of crook. There’s something he sort of cares about, but at the same time there is a callousness about him that makes it seem like it is a standard issue sleazy murderer…maybe. The only truth you can truly accept is that Yakusho captivates in his peculiar way of dodging the questions, without saying no or saying yes. But kind of saying both at the same time. Shigemori, still struggling to find some way to prevent the death penalty, seems to find some other motive where the murdered man may have been molesting his daughter and Misumi acted in judgement of that heinous act. Naturally when Shigemori asks him about it, Yakusho doesn’t make things easy for us. Rather Yakusho shifts again this time most powerfully to portray a different kind of killer, and here is curiously just as he’s given the potentially most sympathetic motivation that Yakusho actually doesn’t make it the simple way of showing the man burdened by performing this kind of vengeance. Rather Yakusho goes to a darker place, particularly as he speaks of tragedies of his family where Yakusho doesn’t give motivation still, but what he shows is suddenly this more chilling intensity in the man. Suddenly he speaks with the type of viciousness of a killer, even a serial killer which Misumi technically is, but you can take it as hate towards the world, due to injustice or just hate towards the world. Yakusho makes it a most striking declaration by keeping the ambiguity alive as the man is speaking an emotional truth but he still is not speaking the truth. Even when he demands that Shigemori answer with his own belief, where Yakusho is genuinely scary in the intensity of the moment, how can one be sure with this man?

Shigemori’s path isn’t easy as Misumi seems ostracized by his own family, however the daughter’s story gives credence to this motivation though no one speaks an exact command or choice at any point. But as the best possible approach Shigemori attempts to get Misumi to pursue this course, until in court he does the exact opposite and insists that he’s innocent saying that he was pressured to make a deal. Suddenly as he is pleading his innocence Yakusho’s performance manages to be his most obviously false and guilty, where everything else he says you can’t be sure of, Yakusho brilliantly overplays this moment of creating a man playing the part now of just the criminal making up stories for the sake of it. Yakusho brings a different kind of blithe quality now where there’s more of an act than in his early scenes where you just can’t be sure of it, here you know this is the one place that Misumi is unquestionably lying. Leading to his death sentence, Shigemori visits Misumi with that sentence placed to try to figure out the mystery one more time. Of course Yakusho/Misumi still remain extremely cagey in his exact intentions, but captivating in his enigmatic state. Yakusho delivery of Misumi stating it would’ve been better if he had not been born seems real and creates the penetrating nature of a deep pathos…but this doesn’t exactly tell you why either which is the brilliance again. Something that Shigemori attempts to challenge by stating that Misumi’s actions must’ve been to protect the young woman, even his plea change protecting her from testifying makes it so he does have a good deed out of his existence. Yakusho is outstanding in his reaction to this because in the first moment you do believe this along with Shigemori as his face brightens a bit and the man seems to accept his good deed within what appears to be a rotten life. BUT when Misumi shrugs off that this may all be the lies of an old murderer, Yakusho doesn’t make it easy once again, as even his grin in this shrugging suggests you can’t believe any exact intention of the man at any point. And that’s the greatness of this performance, because while you can choose to take an interpretation as Shigemori does, Yakusho doesn’t enforce it, nor does he prevent it. He manages to instead brilliantly tiptoe around the lines to create a cohesive whole yet remain an enigma, which we know he’s a murderer, but why, well Yakusho gives you riddles but he never gives you answers in the best possible way. 

Next: 1967 Lead

Wednesday, 18 June 2025

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2017: Nawazuddin Siddiqui in Mom

Nawazuddin Siddiqui did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Detective Dayashankar Kapoor in Mom. 

Mom follows a college professor Devki (Sridevi) who seeks revenge for her step daughter after she is brutally sexually assaulted by a group of men. 

I will say Nawazuddin Siddiqui is an actor I reviewed three times before this and in each instance has been a disparate performance and character. Siddiqui physically in each instance looks very different, no more so than in this film as he appears as a mostly bald private detective with a style all his own, who happens to hear about the plight of Devki’s stepdaughter, being missing initially, who is eventually found near death. Unfortunately for Devki, due to the stepdaughter having been drinking her testimony is put into question and the four men are exonerated by the courts despite their obvious guilt leading Devki to take the law into her own hands. In order to do this more effectively she calls upon Siddiqui detective Kapoor to help her. Siddiqui’s initial appearance is well performed in establishing the idiosyncratic nature of his character. Siddiqui is once again very much doing his own thing and successfully in the way he holds himself as a purposeful peculiarity. Something that works as presents himself as a peculiarity, where Siddiqui specific eagerness to help he paints with the right ambiguity between someone who is genuine in his keen eyed interest as he almost looks like a dog waiting for a treat with his specifically curious eyes and particularly accentuated grin, that may denote almost an ambulance chaser version of a detective, or just a man who presents his genuine interest in helping in his own unusual way. Well it becomes the latter clearly when Devki utilizes his skills as a detective to track down and find different ways to seek revenge against each of the guilty men. Siddiqui continues his ambiguous but entertaining note, where basically what he does is offer some levity within the rather dark situation. He does so in a way that works just through his off-beat delivery that fits and works for this off-beat oddball character. So every time he comes in for some exposition or moment of maneuvering the revenge plan, Siddiqui comes at it with his own unique angle that fits this eccentric character. What Siddiqui does effectively is show sort of the growth and investment of Kapoor into the revenge that is beyond monetary benefits. Something we see when he keeps mentioning his mother, something that Siddiqui plays initially seemingly within the eccentricity of Kapoor, but as he continues to mention it his eyes effectively denote a real care and outright empathy where his mother represents what Devki is doing for her stepdaughter. Siddiqui utilizes just that much more investment, he doesn’t lose the eccentricity by revealing sincerity as the ambiguity leaves to show that his investment goes beyond monetary compensation. An element that is featured even more strongly in his final scene where he comes face to face with the most dangerous of the men. Siddiqui’s wonderful in this scene by playing the shades of a sense of dread, but with a bravery of a man who has no desire to suffer fools of this hideous man. His delivery of correcting the man about a correct pronunciation is pitch perfect because he manages to make it a joke to Kapoor but also with it this real belief in Devki as he spells out the man’s own doom. Siddiqui hitting his height in this moment that exemplifies his overall effectiveness in the role, that makes the comedic elements of the character speak to more than just the comedy, though it works straightforwardly as well, by funneling within a highly specific character that he makes believable, while also using it to allude to a greater depths to the real motivation of the man. It’s a strong performance that really other than Sridevi, manages the very tricky tone of the film to deliver another wholly engaging performance, that for Siddiqui is yet another performance that didn’t for a moment make me think of the other performances of his I’ve reviewed here. 

Monday, 9 June 2025

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2017: Mark Rylance in Dunkirk

Mark Rylance did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Mr. Dawson in Dunkirk.

Dunkirk follows three stories related to the Dunkirk evacuation by the British army. 

The nature of Dunkirk is one of the most pure example of a cinematic approach where I do think it is one film where it was absolutely meant for its original format to the most pronounced extreme, having said that, still works for me even in the lesser format of a home viewing, even on a larger television screen. Relevant though is Christopher Nolan’s emphasis on the visual approach for the material where the amount of backstory per character is very limited. The character probably with the most backstory is Mark Rylance as the “lead” of the boat story, where an older English gentleman goes with his son, and ill-fated friend George (Barry Keoghan, who I was taken by being reminded of just how not creepy he is here) to rescue men from Dunkirk using his own boat. Rylance's performance very much from the outset is about stature and developing that specific comforting presence of an old fashioned unfussy English gentlemen intent on doing the right thing. Initially what Rylance does is to not really put too much on anything, showing a very internalized determination fitting for the quiet man he is as he prepares the boat, before the navy can commandeer it themselves and set sail. Even his warning to George that they are going into war Rylance’s delivery of the line is with a subdued yet potent urgency of someone who speaks in fundamental truths and with an innate earnestness about himself. Rylance sets up the character effectively as empathetic respectability with the presence of a quiet established dignity for the good natured patriarch of the time.  

The journey is naturally not the easiest though on the more hopeful outset of the trip Rylance’s moment of beaming with pride at the spitfire planes, even giving a bit of history on their engines Rylance exemplifies the specific belief in the planes. Something that one could take as just belief in his country, but it extends to something beyond that. Rylance lays the groundwork for what are the essential truths of his character. The first important moment of the trip comes in as the boat picks up the only survivor of a sunken ship, the shivering soldier (Cillian Murphy). A man clearly suffering PTSD from the attack and refuses to stay on the boat that is headed back to the danger in Dunkirk. Rylance is fantastic in the way he presents the measured approach Dawson takes to dealing with the man at a breaking point. Rylance brings first just this considerable calm where his eyes bring so much empathy for the man’s brokenness, yet there is the perfect type of conviction in his voice as he notes that they can’t run away from the way. Rylance brings such a simple certainty to the moment that is absolutely wonderful. As is his moment of realization of just how of an extreme the man is, and falsely says they’ll turn around. Rylance brings such a gentle disarming quality to his performance, where his eyes note the real danger the man is posing before doing his best to alleviate the situation. Rylance offers such calm as he lies to the man by saying that they’ll chart a course. Even when shortly afterwards the man attacks Mr. Dawson, in order to get control of the wheel, Rylance’s reaction is still not of anger or fear but rather surprise at the extreme desperation of the man in the moment. Even after that though Rylance believably stays largely as this rock of dignified determination. And what makes Rylance stand out though is the quiet internal life in every decision, with an innate empathy, and the suggestion of key moments of pride. Rylance consistently offers some greater sense of the story of Mr. Dawson even though we are eventually only given one clear piece of motivation for Mr. Dawson. Something that Rylance establishes before we are told the moment when the boat has the chance to save a downed fighter pilot. Suddenly Rylance loses all his composure, and it is especially striking because of how quietly reserved he is the rest of the time. The urgency Rylance brings is emotional and honestly very moving as the panic is real and there is more going on with Mr. Dawson then just trying to save this one pilot. Rylance’s delivery suddenly hurried and in his own way desperate in his insistence that they try to save the man. A moment that is later explained when Dawson’s son tells the saved pilot that Dawson's older son had been a pilot who had been killed. An element that doesn’t change Rylance’s performance but rather one can see that Rylance already made it clear. The quiet determination, the moments of specific pride in the RAF, and that key moment of losing his own grip, all reveal a grieving father who wants to live by his son’s example and do everything in his power to honor his memory. Rylance manages to fully embody the type of the volunteering older gentlemen but naturally goes further both in the bigger moments but also the nuance in every small detail he has. 

Sunday, 1 June 2025

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Results

5. Josh Brolin in Only the Brave - Brolin gives a consistently good portrayal of a firefighter insistent on the importance of his duty. 

Best Scene: Final fight with wife. 
4. Kamel El Basha in The Insult - Although slightly limited by the narrative El Basha finds nuance and humanity beyond the symbol the screenplay sometimes forces him into. 

Best Scene: The apology. 
3. Vladimir Brichta in Bingo: The King of the Mornings - Brichta goes all in bringing an intense and dynamic energy even if the film doesn't always give him the best path to take. 

Best Scene: Removing the makeup. 
2. Jamie Bell in Films Stars Don't Die in Liverpool - Bell has one of the least interesting parts in this lineup making him all the more impressive through the nuance he consistently finds throughout. 

Best Scene: Final goodbye. 
1. Joaquin Phoenix in You Were Never Really There - Good predictions Ytrewq, Jonathan, Marcus, A, Luke, Anonymous, Tim, Matt, John Smith, Robert, Razor, RatedRStar, Calvin,Tahmeed, Emi, Shaggy & Harris. Phoenix gives an understated yet intensely powerful portrayal of a man defined by violence in a very particular way. 

Best Scene: The water. 

Next: 2017 Supporting

Note: I will be updating other rankings later as I want to re-watch a few films first. 

Friday, 30 May 2025

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Vladimir Brichta in Bingo: The King of the Mornings

Vladimir Brichta did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Augusto Mendes in Bingo: The King of the Mornings. 

Bingo King of the Mornings follows the unlikely trajectory of an aspiring actor, doing softcore pornos, becoming the star of a hit children’s clown tv show. 

Vladmir Brichta plays Augusto the actor where the film opens with almost a kind of Safdie brothers like intensity as we follow him to try to get out of his particularly humble beginnings. Brichta approaches the role with a fundamental truth behind Augusto as a man who is destined for greatness, or at least he believes him. Something we see as we open the film where he is spending time with his young son just before a porn shoot. Where Brichta plays the moment with his son, towards his less than appealing job, as a hype up moment where Brichta presents not as delusions of grandeur rather this self-motivation method to a certain kind of madness of someone insisting that he'll be big. Brichta undercuts it with just a glance here or there before the hype up, showing that at this point he’s not there, but with the conviction of a man who just knows he’ll be there somehow. Where we quickly see one opportunity through a tv show, and one success of this performance is Brichta’s ability to modulate his performance per the performances of the character of Augusto. Obviously the softcore doesn’t require much of him, but in the brief tv show appearance, Brichta reinvents his presence to this very specific type of actor, where he comes across well but in a very specific alternative charisma than what we will eventually get as Bingo. Brichta effectively portrays the potential of the man as a performer, something that naturally carries to Brichta’s own performance. 

Brichta’s charisma he delivers here is very much attached to the drive of the man where in his eyes you see that insistence that he can do anything. Something that comes into play when he decides to audition for the new children’s program Bingo instead of the tv show. Where Brichta brings this predatory quality even as he darts towards this chance at fame even if it seems ill-fitting to his previous jobs in showbusiness. The intensity he delivers as he very nearly bites into the idea of the children’s clown denotes the need to find a path to his own fame. Where we see Augusto make his impression by not playing into the clown trope and in fact using inappropriate language for a children’s show, unheard by the English speaking studio bigwig, to get people to have a bigger reaction. Brichta’s approach, where this is almost an uncurrent of insanity in the “sell” of his Bingo, works though in the way there is just so much energy in his delivery, a specific chaotic energy of someone rolling with the madcap punches more than anything. Something that naturally extends to when he’s dealing with the sometimes unruly children of his show, where Brichta combines a big smile with also an often hectoring edge, but with just the right blend that he never quite becomes unbelievable, even if he is a bit more hostile than you’d expect a children’s clown to be. 

Within the world comes his fame, which initially is something that Augusto thrives with where Brichta plays into that drive now also into a self-satisfied ego, to the point of insisting he’ll easily have sex with the religious show producer Lúcia (Leandra Leal). Brichta continues the chaos with that same energy effectively though now with a bit more of a pompous stride. An element that becomes less clear for him when it becomes obvious that he cannot reveal his identity therefore limiting his actual exposure. Leading Brichta’s performance to blend that previous intensity that he used for his performance to become now this tipping towards vexing frustration. Something that Brichta effectively builds in his performance, along with moments out of makeup where you see him stewing in it against other moments of fantasizing of being able to reveal himself or have unexpected success with sex with Lúcia, neither of which happen. Unfortunately this leads me to the elements of the film which were less successful for me. One being his relationship with his son, who I’m sorry but came off as a prop to me. Other than the opening scene, I thought he was just kind of there. The other also being his fame obsessed mom, something that I also thought needed to go further. Although I think Brichta is good in showing the quiet consideration of the otherwise very blunt man to his mom, along with later his unconsolable desperation when she dies later. But even that transition seems rushed there that it doesn’t overall have the impact it should even if Brichta is certainly giving it his all. Additionally the whole path of frustration, along with his relationship with Lúcia have a lot of potential but just feel repetitive in the actual execution. Hitting the same beats too many times, and while Brichta I think remains good, I’ll admit Augusto becomes less and less interesting in every repeated bit. Brichta portrays this growing mania about him, but it never builds towards anything that is cathartic as either a failure or success…though the film paints it as all success in the end. Something that happens but it wasn’t something I felt in any profound way in terms of the realization of it in terms of the writing or direction. Brichta I never feel fails in his task but there is a certain limitation of the result, particularly in terms of his personal growth where the postscript suggests far more than we get. I will say however the moment of Augusto finally getting to wipe off his makeup, even if the build to it isn’t perfect, Brichta’s performance in isolation is moving in creating that sense of relief at finally getting the recognition he was waiting for in just the modest way he approaches the moment in each second of the reveal that he does end on a high note even if I don’t feel everything comes together in terms of the writing of Augusto’s/Bingo’s personal journey. 

Monday, 19 May 2025

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Joaquin Phoenix in You Were Never Really Here

Joaquin Phoenix did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning CANNES, for portraying Joe in You Were Never Really Here.

You Were Never Really Here follows a hired gun as he gets involved with retrieving the kidnapped daughter of a state senator. 

Joaquin Phoenix is obviously an actor I have covered many times, and have covered him many times for playing men who are on some sort of extreme psychological edge. As Joe in this film this is yet another entry, yet an extremely unique entry within his oeuvre, and as I’ve written before, the great actor isn’t always about playing extremely different roles but rather finding compelling variation within similar roles. Within that idea Phoenix immediately crafts something quite different here as Joe than his earlier Freddie Quell or his later greatest hits rendition in Joker. It begins with his specific physicality and I will say while this is an expected element within Phoenix’s work in terms of an inclusion, it is completely different than expected in terms of execution. While Phoenix previously depicted Quell as the literally bent man unable to even physically stand like a healthy man, as Joe Phoenix reinvents that to create something I quite honestly wasn’t aware he could do, which is be physically intimidating. While Phoenix obviously bulked up for the role, it isn’t just that, rather the way he holds himself. Where Freddie was bent, here Phoenix reworks himself into that of essentially a lumbering brute, where all of the intensity he typically has is somehow all forced into himself as a singular shroud of protection. Phoenix wholly convinces at being someone you don’t want to reckon with, and while Phoenix has obviously been dangerous in other roles, it was usually as a live wire type situation, here, you can see him as a specific force. 

That brilliant physicality, which again just is wholly convincing and grants you something immediately new from Phoenix, it goes further as is common to Phoenix is a character dealing with trauma, but in this instance the reaction to that trauma is something quite a bit different. An overriding and callback to aspect of the character of Joe is his suicidal ideation, where throughout the film we see Joe play with methods of killing or harming himself. The film opens with a bag over his head to suffocate himself and soon afterwards, when visiting his elderly mother, he plays around potentially stabbing himself with a knife. Phoenix is incredibly disturbing in the way he handles these scenes, because there is no dramatic element to them either speaking towards intensity of the moment like say Riggs in Lethal Weapon, nor is it even say the way Freddie Quell is festering in his own anguish such as in the prison lash out scene from The Master. Rather Phoenix does something entirely differently by playing it as incredibly casually, which in terms is particularly off-putting. Phoenix portrays this unnerving comfort in Joe in these actions as though they are everyday occurrences for the man, because they are everyday occurrences. What Phoenix presents them as instead as his version, his very disturbing version, of playing with a stress ball, as he brings the same kind of matter of fact quality to these early moments, as a man who just uses that as part of his way of dealing with existence. 

There’s an idiosyncrasy within Phoenix’s approach here within his own turns but just performances in general, particularly within the revenge or vigilante genre. Phoenix makes Joe his own beast and even subverts your expectations of such a character in many ways. There is for example quite a bit of calm in his performance, and calm is usually something that denotes the badass in one way or another. While Joe has traits of such a type of character, the approach Phoenix takes ensures that you would never describe Joe as such. Part of it is the way this calm is more so the way he presents Joe as existing in his world as more so part of this near malaise of his existence that is burdened by unending trauma and violence. And in a way if you had a less intimate view of Joe, you could believe him as a badass when you see him interact with his liaisons, Phoenix delivers his lines with confidence of a man who knows the job and the routine. He has no questions or hesitations about it. Even when he goes about infiltrating the house where the senator’s daughter is being kept, Phoenix interrogates the runner for the house again as a man who is most efficient. Menacing even in his way of just so matter of factly requesting the information where the violence of the man is so innate in himself that Phoenix can barely raise a pulse in his questioning and getting set up to go in for the retrieval. Phoenix does command the space, but what he does is connect this to that same blasé manner towards his own suicidal tendencies, of a many with an eerie comfort towards death. 

That comfort to death extends to the particularly practical but also particularly brutal method of killing each time, which is largely with a hammer he buys at a hardware store. Where we see him go about his trade where Phoenix plays the sequence of killing all the men in the house with not exactly ease, but the same sort of approach someone might take to hammering down a ton of floor boards. It is absolutely routine for him, there is no weight in it, it is just what the man does. An approach that could seem like too little yet I found what Phoenix does here absolutely captivating in creating the idea of a man who in a way thrives with violence because internally he is filled with so much horror that to put it out externally is merely a continuation of that existence. As Joe is haunted by so many horrors of his own abuse as a child, the abuse of his mother by his father, death as a soldier, a mass grave in law enforcement, the man has more ghosts than people, and Phoenix is able to create this state within his performance. One where the horror is within his stare and even so within his consistency when he is killing or facing more death. Phoenix portrays someone so broken by his experience that he is a curiosity in himself and living still is also part of that curiosity. The only breaks whatsoever coming specifically from anyone who seems to try to present themselves to him in any way that isn’t violence. 

The moments where Phoenix breaks the state of Joe in any way are impactful through that consistency he crafts in his idiosyncrasy. As through his journey with his mother, we do see a loving if in no way untroubled son as he helps his mom out in her decrepit state. When he rescues the abused girl the first time, Phoenix says much in the moment where she first embraces him, then tries to kiss him. Where Phoenix in his subtle reaction creating how much any tenderness is more so a knife than what an actual knife would do to him, as he shows both surprise of the care and horror of her attempt to kiss him, stemming from her own mistreatment, where Phoenix reveals the broken psyche of Joe by how deeply each impact him, of course deeply within the malaise of Joe. The next break comes when after the initial rescue the plot gets murkier as the governor has her kidnapped again, trying to cut off all loose ends including Joe who barely escapes and finds that the men even went to his home and killed his mom. And there’s a powerful contrast between two scenes of when Joe sees his mother has been killed and when he “interrogates” one of the men who killed his mom. The former is again a rare moment of released emotion where we do see how much Joe still loves his mom even through the drama, and Phoenix is incredible in letting it eek out. It is amazing particularly since Phoenix often is so emotive, that it becomes so powerful in the way he artfully breaks the state of Joe’s mind only in these rare but impactful moments. And that is further emphasized by when, after wounding the man, asks the man if he killed his mom. Joe is back to his violence and state of perpetual trauma, and Phoenix is almost relaxed in the way he asks. Something that makes sense through Phoenix is realization of this particular state where more suffering is merely the norm. A powerfully shown element when Joe goes about weighing his mother in water and choosing her initially to join her in death by drowning himself. Phoenix’s portrayal creates the turning point of the man just going about accepting what he has been as there is comfort as he goes about his own death, until he sees a vision of the girl he did not save. Leading to the final act, where Joe seems to save the girl, who is him in so many ways, right down to how the plot realizes itself. However pivotal is the final release of his own defenses by seeing himself reflected in so many ways, and Phoenix doesn't suddenly go big. He’s remarkably small, still yet so incredible in the way he releases the emotions dormant, not as a pressurized valve, but rather this quiet erosion through the final scenes. Phoenix presents not a man with an understanding of any of it, or what to do with it, yet Joe cannot escape it. His final line delivery of repeating “it’s a beautiful day”, after being told so by the “rescued” girl, Phoenix is amazing in his underplay, of reaffirming, as an acceptance, yet in no way is it of renewed optimism or anything easy. Rather a man living within his fate of existence, as painful as it is, but speaking that it is what it is. I loved this performance by Phoenix, as much as it is a man on an extreme, Phoenix uncovers wholly new ground in crafting a different kind of tragedy and different kind of experience. Utilizing a more minimalistic and quieter choice, which pierce still so powerfully in creating captivating and unique portrait of a withdrawal of emotion rather than an explosion of it. 

Monday, 12 May 2025

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Jamie Bell in Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

Jamie Bell did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite receiving a BAFTA nomination, for portraying Peter Turner in Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool.

Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool depicts the relationship between faded and dying film star Gloria Grahame (Annette Bening) and a much younger Englishman/aspiring actor. 

The whole film is obviously about the relationship with the uniqueness being this down to earth setting being “invaded” by a well known Hollywood actress, where Bell’s Peter Turner just happens to come across her in the same apartment building. An instance where the relationship basically begins as an invitation of the older woman who very openly entices the younger man, by only at first suggesting he dance with her. The nature of Peter as a character I think speaks much to Bell’s abilities as a performer given that in the wrong hands, say he was played by Richard Gere in the 70’s, this would be a part where just playing into potential “himbo” tropes would be easy enough. Thankfully as much as Peter isn’t the most complex of all characters, Bell approaches to play it as a real person. Where Bell smartly plays very much the simple attractiveness of getting to spend time with the old Hollywood starlet, even in her off-beat ways, as he first accepts her invitation. Bell is terrific by not making it too complicated but not simplistic either. In his eyes you see the intrigue and the attraction, though with a dash of a knowing quality that the situation is unusual. Bell plays into initially that sense of fun in a way that brings you more so into the relationship than if he created more so an immediate belief in that this a wholly normal situation. 

The first hurdle in the relationship comes in as Turner fairly blithely discounts Grahame's dream of joining the Royal Shakespeare company to play Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, noting due to her age she’d be more appropriate for the nurse. A tricky moment honestly for Bell to play and one where I think it would’ve been easy to lose all sympathy for the character. Bell though uses effectively to create a sense of the growth of the character through the moment. As in the scene Bell manages to deliver the words as all a joke and more so than that a lack of connection within Grahame on a genuine level. Emphasizing instead the words as coming from a young man just going with the flow of his unlikely situation and barely even considering that he’s dealing with a genuine person despite the singularity of the relationship. Bell’s reaction to Grahame lashing out as his attitude is essential in creating the initial sense of unease and the particular growth of maturity within just that reaction. Bell earns the next move where Turner decides to not only apologize but proceed with a romantic and sexual relationship with Grahame. 
 
The actual relationship is where the film comes short where the specifics don’t quite cut deeper towards any greater truths. The ideas are sorta there but one can always feel they can go further. Having said that, Bell and Bening are certainly game in their “why not” approach to their relationship that becomes a bit deeper over time. Bell creates the right sense of that curiosity that now becomes more of a genuine fascination with the older woman, and Bell is terrific in the way he expresses the simple way he is stricken by her essentially. Bell plays so well within the lines of expressing the growth of empathy as their relationship progresses, so far even to have Turner visit Grahame’s mom and catty sister. Where Bell again plays within the confines so effectively in showing, as Grahame’s sister brings up her multiple marriages including both a father and son, Bell shows not judgment but rather empathy at every turn. Bell earned the moment of Turner instead of saying something negative after this interaction instead revealing his own secret of bi-sexuality. Bell’s fantastic moment in the simple honesty of the delivery where he shows it is a man getting something off his chest but also him wanting to ease the tension away for this woman he is coming to love. 

The last phase of their relationship consists of Grahame’s failing health and her struggling mental state where she is lashing out then loving Peter, randomly, not sure what to do, denies really facing her death for much of her time, while also hiding away at Peter’s family’s home. All of this is theoretically juicy material but it feels mostly like repeated beats that never grant too much insight. Bell makes what he can of it regardless particularly in his reactions to all of it with this convincing and moving combination between frustration and that still genuine empathy. Something that he shows in these scenes as something that truly weighs down in just his physical manner as the grief begins to overtake him. Something where Bell goes further by realizing this degree of almost confusion of the young man unsure of how he can cope exactly and where he exactly sits in Grahame’s life. Bell found this strange purgatory in a consistently moving way that kept me engaged even as the film repeats itself. There’s a pseudo climax as Peter takes Grahame to perform Shakespeare together, where both are quite good in playing earnestly the moment while presenting the tenderness of the appreciation in every moment of it between them. Playing so well in the scene in the moment of the two fully just being in love it would seem for this moment, before it being broken again by Grahame needing to go home to die with her family. Leaving a heartbroken Peter, where again Bell’s slow breakdown is heartbreaking because he showed you the path of this man, and brought you to this place. Making the unlikely relationship more than a curiosity but something genuinely impactful to the man’s life.