Best Actor Back Log Volume 2 Results

5. Paul Newman in The Sting - Newman gives perhaps his most strictly entertaining performance. Having a proper blast in the role, while certainly carrying the proper warmth as the mentor type. 

Best Scene: Poker Game.

4. James Woods in Killer: A Journal of Murder - Although his film is severely misguided about his character, Woods fully understands him in his disturbing portrayal of depravity.

Best Scene: After the murder.

3. James Mason in Odd Man Out - Mason has limited screentime, however doesn't waste a moment in a heartbreaking portrait of a man coming to terms mentally while he decays physically. 

Best Scene: Psalm.

2. Bob Hoskins in Felicia's Journey - Hoskins delivers an absolutely fascinating depiction of a most unusual kind of psychosis.

 

Best Scene: Final scene with Felicia.  

1. Carl Anderson in Jesus Christ Superstar - Anderson delivers one incredible musical performance after another, but also delivers as striking of a silent turn.

Best Scene: "Last Supper"

Next: An extended waiting game (maybe a review or two if I find the motivation).

Alternate Best Actor 1996: James Woods in Killer: A Journal of Murder

James Woods did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Carl Panzram in Killer: A Journal of Murder. 

"Killer", which tells the story of an unlikely friendship between a prison guard and a real life serial killer, is bad in a lot ways. It is centrally flawed as it wants to examine the inhumanity of the prison system, however doing so through the examination of a man whose real life record simply suggests pure evil probably isn't the best way to go. That is only part of it. This as the film has such a crummy look about it. Almost every scene is shot flatly. The narration sounds more like it should be attached to a fairy tale. The musical stings are often overtly comical. The editing is clunky, and the majority of the performances sound like they come from the first rehearsal that didn't go particularly well and led to a few guys getting fired. There's a lack of general film making competence that is real quite notable for a film with, at the time, relatively name actors. 

Anyways James Woods is also in the movie as the serial killer Panzram. Woods is the only guy who didn't seem to attend those bad rehearsals, in fact it seems like he wasn't quite aware of dumpster fire he was in. This as Woods treats the part and the film as though it is a worthy endeavor. Now it helps that Woods in his prime was one of the most naturally compelling actors around. This as within that time he delivers a particular form of a charged onscreen charisma. He isn't traditionally charming, certainly not here, but he is magnetic, and that is the case here. Woods's performance brings something to explain why the prison guard, Henry (Robert Sean Leonard), would take a fascination in him, though strictly in a fanboy kind of way which makes one question his supposed humanitarian leanings. Woods though brings something captivating in the early scenes in portraying the brutal discontent in the man as he attempts to avoid conforming to the system. Woods presents a basic ferocity that isn't really so much of a man, but rather carries this certain caged animal sensibility in these moments. It's not just hatred, rather there is something Woods delivers that is deep within the man that creates this constant source of a tension. Woods, I suppose contrary to the film however probably more truthful to the man he's playing, makes Panzram something of nature not of nurture. 

There is actually a brilliant scene....for Woods, where Henry comes in to check the bars in Panzram's cell turning his back on the killer. Now this is after Henry gave Panzram a gift, after seeing Panzram beaten to a pulp by another guard. Woods is rather amazing in his portrayal of the scene as in his eyes there's a killer's viciousness that comes out. Woods portrays the scene though not as a guy who is thinking about killing the man for reason rather he presents it as instinct. There is almost a lust in his eyes that Woods depicts along with him also at the same time showing the man gritting his teeth, trying to hold back that instinct for a moment. His breaths as he manages to not kill the man, has this pressure that Woods brings as though the man just forced himself not to give into a insatiable urge. Woods again creating a reality towards the sense of Panzram, something perhaps the film itself should've taken more notice of. This as Woods very carefully never shows that Panzram is any normal criminal, he's far from it. There isn't the sense of a desperate man within the man, rather he is a kind of beast. This right to the point when we hear about Panzram's story, narrated with a reality more befitting to the nature of the story by Woods than we hear in the main narration by Harold Gould as an older Henry. 

Woods's narration again almost seems strangely devoted, at least comparison to the film, this as even when Panzram recalls an older prison and a reformer warden's tenure, there is a palatable sense of nostalgia in Woods's voice. We then see Panzram story where he is given certain allowances, including going into a nearby town. Although Woods portrays a certain enjoyment of the freedom, he maintains the intensity within the man. This within his eyes still the intention towards whatever animal lust should take him. This taking him quickly enough when almost immediately Panzram rapes a librarian in the town. Woods delivering the horrifying brutality of the moment. Although within the film, you do ponder what exactly is the point of including this, as it basically says "see reforms don't work for certain prisoners", despite the film seeming to advocate for reforms based around Panzram. Anyways, enough we continue with Panzram's life story, where he tells about every one of his killings. In Woods's voice though is a lack of a repentance towards a single word. Woods's delivery keeps everything as just the reality of Panzram simply telling of what he did, almost with a slight pride at times. Of course Henry doesn't see this tale as a rabid beast, who was a violent creature long before his time in prison, but rather a indictment of the system. 

Although there is surely many stories, even of actual convicts, that would be a great example of the brutality and potential reductive nature of the US prison system, the story of Karl Panzram is not it, especially not as the film presents it. Again though Woods's performance really doesn't seek to be anything but an actual reality for the man that if you even read further about him beyond what the film tells you, only exacerbates one's sense of the man. Woods likely did his own research, as his own performance is something rather terrifying, though the film tries to diminish everything he can by throwing in violin riffs as though he is Michael Myers or something. Woods still in these moments, whether it is a moment just calmly smoking in his cell planning the murder of a guard, or the murder itself, Woods doesn't hold back. The moment of calm having this strange determined satisfaction on his face. The moment of attack Woods almost portrays as this sexual act in every step of it. This portraying a strict enjoyment in every moment of the attack, and once the man is bleeding profusely from his head, Woods's face glows with an orgasmic exhilaration. Woods's performance isn't as some misunderstood man driven to violence by a hard life, no Woods makes Penzram the blackhearted psychopath he was. 

I think one of Woods's best scenes is after the killing and he is boasting about it to Henry. Woods displays a jubilation from the event. This as his face conveys a sheer enjoyment not only of what he did but is also exhilarated with the idea of being hanged for it. Woods's makes the deranged state of the man wholly tangible in the moment. This as in every words he seeds a irrational perspective of a man, who so believes in dog eat dog, that he is happy to be the one on the menu at some point. Woods even grants a reality to a contrived scene, which I suppose just shows how full of it Henry is, where the two seemingly just talk as men. Woods never loses the idea of the man, and is honest to the character even in this moment. Although he feigns a decency Woods still has that raw intensity within him at all times. There the killer's edge is never lost. This particularly, in the most correct moment in the entirety of the film, is when Penzram accuses Henry of really just being in it for the visceral excitement of being near a killer. Woods speaks with a lurid persuasion, and in the moment suggests the most overt truth in the piece. There isn't a point where Woods excuses the man within his performance, as much as the film wants us so badly to feel sympathy for the character. Woods is consistent, even in the moment of Panzram hearing his death sentence, the relief on his face, isn't of a victim waiting to die, but rather a twisted mind taking in some strange success. Watching the film again, which is a complete failure of intention and technique, I still found this to be a searing and captivating performance by James Woods. As much as the film doesn't understand the man its dealing with, Woods does and delivers a befitting portrait of depravity.

Alternate Best Actor 1947: James Mason in Odd Man Out

James Mason did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Johnny McQueen in Odd Man Out. 

Odd Man Out is Carol Reed's other masterpiece, that receives a bit less recognition in general, about an IRA operative on the run after a failed robbery.

Now that description in short doesn't speak the brilliance of the film. The brilliance being that it isn't *just* about the IRA soldier on the run, but rather the way this event seems to influence the entire city around him. Due to this complex perspective however James Mason here probably is one of the least leading leads around. By that alliteration I mean that James Mason doesn't have a great deal of screentime despite his Johnny McQueen most certainly being the core of the film. Now that is perhaps why I placed him originally too low in my original ranking for 47 (although it might've also been me taking less care to those past #1, since no one was every going to take Attenborough's place when he was in 47), but that is entirely unfair to Mason's performance. This as every minute Mason is onscreen, he makes it count. Now in the opening of the film we initially meet McQueen as he's hiding out in a home, preparing for the robbery with his men. McQueen having spent months within the home after having escape prison for previous IRA action. This seems a small scene, but it is essential for Mason's performance, and again he doesn't waste it. This as he creates the essentials of the man in a few ways. One as we see him initially prepping Mason delivers a calm and cool charisma to Johnny. Although Mason was better known for his cold villains at the time, Mason shows a definite range here in creating an innate likability within this moment. This as Johnny speaks to the man with a reserve, but also a sense of understanding as a once proper leader of the men. 

After prepping his men, he's left with his right hand man, and one of the women who had been hiding him, Kathleen (Kathleen Ryan), who clearly bares greater affection for Johnny. His talk with the right hand man, who asks for him to go on the job instead due to Johnny's time inside, Mason's reaction is effective in revealing less charisma and more exasperation in the moment. He speaks with a reserved false indifference to the statement, ensuring him he's fine just as Mason's face reflects the wear the man has received. Still Johnny chooses to go but before has a scene with Kathleen, who actually never state themselves as lovers or the like, but as they are together we are granted this sense. This speaks to the performances of both Ryan and Mason, this as there is just a strong sense of the attraction and warmth within the moment. They speak even not in a directly personal way, rather she just cautions Johnny on the plan, but within the interaction every still is said within their performances. There is a striking sense of the love between them. We won't see them again together until the end of the film, so this scene actually is more important than it might seem. Within it though you are granted in total a real sense of the connection between the two and it is through the natural strength of both Mason and Ryan's performances. Their eyes match and grant a sense of so much of a relationship constrained within circumstance, but still thriving within the two's hearts. 

The actual robbery we see as Johnny approaches and in that Mason's physical work, which is a primary virtue of this performance is even evident before his inevitable injury. This as they walk into the location, Mason carries himself with an uncertainty in his step and awkwardness in his manner as even go by bystanders seems a slightly odd thing to him. The robbery falling apart as Johnny tries to make his escape and becomes disoriented slowing him down enough for a clerk to attack him. This fight that leaves the other man dead, and Johnny shot, Mason portrays as just a broken moment of messy desperation near accident. This to the point when he is then making his escape in their getaway, Mason's distress is potent as he keeps asking if the man he shot is dead or not. This granting a sense of real concern and shame in Johnny, and really the beginning of the end for the man. This as Johnny falls from the car window in the escape, and runs off finding solace in some abandoned structure. While the city searches for him including cops, Johnny's men, Kathleen and some random opportunists, Johnny lays in the building just slowly suffering from his wound. Mason's performance of Johnny's physical decay is remarkable, as we see each step, here in the stinging pain as he lies alone. There is a wonderful moment as Johnny is barely conscious and imagines a local girl as a guard from his prison days. Mason's performance is amazing in his wistful delivery of the past day as some foggy dream. Mason's eyes expressing a man seemingly escaping, by returning to prison of all things, though crafting a state of brief contentment before finding reality again. 

Mason's performance then for a good chunk of the film is nearly silent, having brief moments of just trying to wave people from him or asking for help, however that doesn't at all dull the impact of his performance. This as Mason's face is so powerful in this film. Take a moment as Johnny is still stuck in the place as he watches two lovers hiding in his place seemingly for tryst though the woman relents. Mason's expression captures certainly the tension in Johnny as he expresses concern of being found out, but there is so much more. There is a sadness as he looks upon the couple that seems to suggest the man pitying his circumstances as his life and love is filled with so much more complication and anguish. As we see Johnny wandering around the city, finding random help here and there. Mason's performance captures such a potent growing desperation in every regard. This as his physical manner becomes all the more distressed and labored, and his eyes evoke a man going through more than just physical pain. This as he finds a brief solace in a bar, that doesn't want to come afoul of either the cops or the IRA, Johnny sees his life in beer stains. Mason's performance again finds such a potent sense of anxiety as he realizes the sense of the man seeing how everything has spiraled out for him, this before earning his visceral scream that is built out of more than the nearly festering wound within him. Mason showing a man burdened wholly through his life to this life, and creating this man who seemingly has never stopped being a prisoner despite having escaped from one kind of prison. 

 

Eventually a group of strange men, including a deranged artist and a quirky bird keeper, take him away to repair him slightly through the use of a doctor of sorts, however all the men aren't entirely motivated to help Johnny. Mason meanwhile shows Johnny barely conscious within the affair and nearly dying it seems as his performance becomes shows the life of the man growing ever fainter. This until he's spoken to about his old priest, who wants to see Johnny now to help him, and Johnny has a vision of the old pastor. Mason is downright amazing in this moment, and is one of the best of his illustrious career. This as we see in his eyes, despite staring at a hallucination, Johnny finding some clarity and sense rather than just pain. Mason's expression shows a man reaching some understanding suddenly of the moral betrayals in his life that have left him to this point. This culminating in Mason's awe inspiring delivery of Psalm 23 as recognition of the lessons of the priest he ignored. Mason's work here is outstanding as burdens each word with such potent emotion and meaning. Mason says it with such intensity of feeling and creates a moment of true revelation. Mason makes it this moment of true catharsis as the guilt and anxiety that seemed to weigh so heavily in the psalm, as almost this incredible act of repentance. Johnny is brought along supposedly to see the priest, as he is walked along by the bird keeper. Mason's physical work now is that of a basically a dead man walking. His expression like  a ghost somehow just barely maintaining a moral coil and his movements now of a man just forcing himself to move while his body is actively dying. This as he doesn't meet the priest, and instead finds Kathleen, who is adamant that Johnny not be taken in. We have an extraordinary moment, where we find that chemistry again, now so poignant as Mason shows with all the pain just the hint of true warmth and solace as Kathleen speaks of an escape that isn't far. This is a truly great performance by James Mason. He doesn't have a great deal screentime, however there isn't a moment where you forget his presence. He is a constant, in that he never wastes a moment, whether silent or speaking. This in granting us the sense of Johnny's journey both physically, mentally and emotionally. This in creating such a heartbreaking and tragic portrait of man slowly escaping his life.

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 Supporting Actor 1973: Paul Newman in The Sting

Paul Newman did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Henry Gondorff in The Sting. 

I ought to open with a few complete asides and just re-state my enjoyment of this film. It's just a wonderfully entertaining and fun film. I always love when the same people who decry a best picture win like this, also decry the academy not recognizing comedy. The Sting is not a great serious drama, it's great entertainment. Anyways, one of the major reasons for this quality is in the star-pairing of Robert Redford as young up and comer con man Johnny Hooker, and Paul Newman as the old pro Henry Gondorff. Redford was the only actor recognized for the film, perhaps as the "hotter" commodity at the time, which given the academy's love for the film the lack of Robert Shaw as the chief villain Doyle Lonnegan and Paul Newman does feel a bit of an oversight strangely enough. Now it has to be said, despite Newman's star theoretically fading when compared to Redford at this point (though it wasn't really), Newman might as well be in his prime here. In fact while they make for a give and take duo in their previous collaboration Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Newman takes ownership of this film despite definitely not being lead, and...actually on this watch I had to admit something that I couldn't quite believe...Newman is supporting in the film. Now hear me out, Gondorff's role is specifically as the supporting mentor to Hooker, and though he has a few scenes to himself, so do Robert Shaw and Harold Gould as other con pro Kid Twist. Like those two, his scenes are almost exclusively in service to the creation or motivation of the con, that is technically all for Hooker's story. To kind of seal it I did a rough screentime count, where I was generous if anything, and from that I was surprised to learn Newman only has a few minutes more than 15 minutes of screentime, making him in a grand total of about 15% of the film, hard to call him a lead, particularly when Redford is an unquestionable lead standing right there with his over an hour of screentime. If the role wasn't played by Newman, I might've come to this conclusion a lot quicker.

 

That of course speaks to the strength of this performance and the star power of Newman in this role. This as we open with Newman's entrance into the film being a classic sort of anti-star entrance as we meet the "great Henry Gondorff" as he's sleeping off a hangover between a wall and his bed. This followed by being awoken through a cold shower, and we start with not the best introduction for this supposed ultimate con artist. Newman is of course great at being sloppy just as he is at being smooth. This as he instantly endears a bit to Henry in just showing his lack of pretense in his interactions with Hooker. Newman brings a nice bit of warmth just as he attempts to guides Hooker and even cautions him about revenge. Newman does it with really such a naturalistic way that makes Gondorff instantly endearing as this mentor to Hooker. Now as we follow Gondorff as he goes about recruiting his crew to set up Lonnegan, we get full movie star Newman in all his glory. This is just Newman at his most in that regard. Newman could be a great actor, but here he is a great movie star. This just in every one of his interactions, and nose flicks, there's a sheer sense of a joy of performance there. This as it is hard not to have the fun right along Newman every step of the way. Of course Newman does balance this in showing a sense of intelligence as he discusses the plan, pausing on moments to show regarding Lonnegan's potential wrath, but also just bringing so much energy to the build of the plan. He has such a wonderful zest within figuring out each bit of it. Newman making for a great leader for the plan that it is hard not to get wrapped up into the plan, and wish you could be part of his con in some way. 

Now the planning of the con leads to what is the best scene of the film, remember this is a film I adore, largely because it solely focuses on the two best performances in the film, that being Shaw and Newman going to toe to toe in a poker game. Before that though we do get a quick moment that kind of sums up Newman's performance a bit here, and what makes him just so likable. This as he shows off his card tricks to Hooker. This as he shows them off he is so impeccably smooth in his manner, but then when he fumbles a bit, Newman sort of "oops" reaction is perfection. This as Newman brings the right bits of subversion within the confidence to make him all the more likable actually. Now onto the poker game that is amazing in every regard and I love every minute of it. This as Newman is terrific in portraying Gondorff play the poker lout "Shaw". His whole manner being a mess, and being as abrasive and obnoxious as possible. He is hilarious in just how sloppy he is and particularly in stark contrast to Shaw who just is getting more and more angry in his reactions throughout. They make great foils for one another throughout the scene. I especially love one moment where Shaw finally verbally lashes out, and Newman's "aw crap" face (which apparently might've been genuine thinking Shaw was about to actually punch him) is the perfect moment of Gondorff losing his bearings just a bit. Newman's great though in showing in that sloppiness the casual confidence about the performance Gondorff is doing, making it seem all too easy. I especially love his rather comical way of glancing at his final hand, while also eyeing Lonnegan's henchman with a certain suspicion. Newman is hilarious throughout the scene, and against Shaw's reactions, you have a truly classic scene. 

That scene is Newman's highlight however Newman doesn't waste a moment from that point in portraying Gondorff trying to make it all work. This as there's actually a nice balance. This in moments of portraying his concern for Hooker's safety. Newman's actually fairly moving in portraying this low key concern wholly earnestly as he remains uncertain of the kid's life throughout the affair. This while also portraying a nice duality in the moments of the actual sting. This in capturing the degree of stress as Newman portrays a lack of confidence in the moment of running around trying to make it work and creating a good sense of the pressure of it. This against his moments of still playing Shaw as this cocky and mean employer of a corrupt race betting room. Newman though creates a good character in these moments with stiff and dismissive anger he brings in playing the part of the boss you'd believe Hooker's character supposedly hates. Of course this all being just part of the game and in the moments of success where you get that carry over chemistry of Redford and Newman from Butch and Sundance. This as when the two share joy it just seems all the brighter. The final sequence in particularly being all the more joyous just in their mutual jubilation being just so infectious. Even in his supporting screentime, Newman seems the lead just by his presence throughout once he appears. He makes for the proper con man of all con mans. I'll say though watching the film again, I must've had a little bit of a case of Oscar sickness in my evaluation of Robert Redford's work, that is being overly dismissive of it largely due to my love of the Oscar snubbed Newman and Shaw. I will correct that of course. Nonetheless though still, Newman and Shaw do steal the film, Shaw through his vicious and volatile presence and Newman through his charming one. This may not be the technically best acted performance by Paul Newman, but it is perhaps his most entertaining and the clearest example of his star power. 

Alternate Best Actor 1999: Bob Hoskins in Felicia's Journey

Bob Hoskins did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Joe Hilditch in Felicia's Journey. 

As with almost any of Atom Egoyan's films I'd categorize as good (though a bit drawn out and suffers from being a bit top heavy when it comes to interesting characters), Felicia's Journey is a strange, though intriguing, bird of film about a older man who tries to "help" a young desperate pregnant woman, Felicia. 

Always hate coming onto a performance late as I finalize a year, as I really should've just taken the time for Bob Hoskins here, as this performance is unlike anything else that I'd seen from Hoskins. Now I've always been a fan of Hoskins's as an actor, with his potent bottled up presence, that almost seemed to hide a great emotional range. This found in his great performances in Mona Lisa and The Long Good Friday, as different kinds of volatile men, and of course his low key hilarious yet still emotional work in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?. This though is something quite different from Hoskins's as his very presence has no traits of a working class, or once working class, bruiser. This man is something else. This is found right off in Hoskins's instantly curious and fascinating work. This in his more affected accent. This with a sort of odd politeness innate within his voice. For a lack of a better shortcut, Hoskins kind of plays this part as though he was Ian Holm playing this part, and that is high praise. This as Hoskins erases your mind of those other turns, in his gentler voice he brings here, but also his manner that matches the same. We see him as this commercial chef and as so there is a fanciful manner to this man that Hoskins creates, that grants us some sense of who he is, and keeps us quite intrigued in what he might be. 

We follow many scenes of Joe just living through the day, and there is something even in this within Hoskins's performance. There is a levity to it, though not in the sort of comedic sense. Rather Hoskins is way of movement here is almost a way of floating through a given scene. He doesn't quite interact as is the normal way, marking Joe with this strange kind of very odd kind of grace. Hoskins is rather mesmerizing just to watch be here, as you can't instantly decipher the man, and part of the fascination is watching Hoskins give us hints. This as we see him preparing a meal, while watching a TV chef (who we will later learn is his long dead mother), Hoskins's performance has a kind of violence in the preparation. When eating the meal, and watching the woman still, Hoskins's performance is one of sheer brilliance. This sort of boyish curiosity he brings in examining the meal, and a comfort as he bites as though he is a baby being fed by his mother. There is something unquestionably off-putting about it, but what I love is how enigmatic it is just the same. Hoskins doesn't immediately tells us exactly who Joe is exactly. He creates a mystery about the man, and really is the facet of the film that reels you into it. This as there's just something about Hoskins's performance that makes you want to learn more about this man, even if you may be concerned with that might exactly go. 

Now we see Joe as he begins to offer some advice to Felicia, and there is just something about that accent that Hoskins uses here. It is a masterstroke, as it is this incredible combination of comfort and discomfort at the same time. This as he speaks so gently that at quick glance, particularly if someone was need of help of any kind, it is with that of just a good intention if off man, but spending more time with it, there's just something not quite right about it. Felicia eventually more directly takes Joe's help as he begins to give her rides. Hoskins's performance is everything as he asks her questions with that small voice of his, seemingly comforting. When she mentions she's pregnant though, there is a smile, and change of tone of his expression that is most unnerving. Hoskins portraying Joe's "charity" to perhaps not be some simple kindness of a lonely man. There is a strange game though we see when Felicia reveals any vulnerability as Joe puts forth the utmost empathy it would seem. Again it is with perhaps a quirk, or something worse, that he offers his words of wisdom, but Hoskins himself doesn't portray this as facade exactly even. There is something more demented going on than just that. This as see a progression of other young desperate women that Joe's "helped" in the past. 

Hoskins's work here is outstanding, and part of why he is so fascinating to watch, is he presents a man who is in a strange world of his own at all times. This developed from his equally strange relationship with mother we see in flashback. Hoskins even in a moment of Joe just watching a clip of Salome, there is a man starting on some alternate wavelength of experience. When we see him speak to Felicia of his fake wife, Hoskins speaks with overtures of the good nature of parenthood, but even in this, he's kind of outside of the conversation even as he's speaking directly to her. Hoskins portraying a man who is always thinking within some other realm even when within this process that one would assume would be more symbiotic. It is in this that Hoskins alludes to what Joe really is doing with all this. This as he develops the sense of the man's mind where his interaction is always with a strange kind of detachment and self-obsession. When speaking of his fake wife, even killing her technically by saying she has died in hospital, his words turned as though he is almost speaking to himself still. This as he tells himself this story just as he is telling her. This performance is quite terrifying as Hoskins reveals Joe's nature as more sinister in each successive scene. This as we slowly come to realize that Joe is in fact a serial killer of these young women, and Hoskins paints a most unnerving portrait of the way this man goes about his ways.

 

 This as he brings Felicia along, with a cherub's smile and a country priest's voice. This though in moments bringing forth the nature of the hate that is simmering within him, that Hoskins evokes in wholly chilling moments as Joe becomes more determined with his current "charity".  When Joe goes about finally planning to kill her, Hoskins is so matter of fact in the movements, which is particularly off-putting as we see a man who likely has gone through this kind murder again and again. When he describes putting the girls to "sleep" as he's in the process of killing Felicia, suddenly that gentle voice of becomes something truly disturbing. The only point in which the man's world seems to completely break, as he attempts to wrap up his crime, two Christian missionaries come calling. Hoskins's incredible as he shows the final break in the man as he watches their presentation to him. Hoskins's voice loses any of its grace, his manner is not longer lost in its state. There is desperation, a fear, a man suddenly blunted by a random reality that penetrates his typical deranged state. Hoskins brilliantly internalizing the breakdown within the man almost in sheer disbelief when confronted with something then than his own delusions. Hoskins's performance presenting the greater degradation of the man's mind as he seems tp hold less and less into the delusion and in turn his psychosis is shown more overtly in every respect. His eyes filled with tears, his body wavering, and his voice quacking as his crimes are discovered. A man with no delusions left to cling to, therefore also no life to cling to. This is a fantastic work by Bob Hoskins that shows an even greater range than I already knew he had. A daring, and dynamic portrait of a most unusual and unhinged man. 

Best Actor Backlog Volume 2

And the overlooked performances are:

James Mason in Odd Man Out

 

Paul Newman in The Sting

 

James Woods in Killer: A Journal Of Murder

 

Carl Anderson in Jesus Christ Superstar

 

Bob Hoskins in Felicia's Journey

Best Actor 1929: George Bancroft in Thunderbolt

George Bancroft received his only Oscar nomination for portraying "Thunderbolt" Jim Lang in Thunderbolt. 

Thunderbolt is actually a mostly not bad film about a brute gangster, however it spends far too much time away from the titular character and with the extremely one note "good people".

George Bancroft, who actually became one of the more reliable character actors in the late 30's, here plays the leading role of a wanted gangster nicknamed Thunderbolt. It must be said at the outset that Bancroft's performance here, in the dawn of the talkies, thankfully isn't of the bad acting of the early sound period. This in he doesn't have the overt stiffness in manner and overly stilted quality in speaking, he rather seems to remember the important thing, which is maybe to occasionally relax with his performance. This as so many performances of the period are so constricted and trying to be part of the film, that stand out as this near artificial mannequin of a man. Bancroft though carries himself with a calm, fitting as well to creating the confidence of his gangster. Bancroft in his opening scene actually being part of the environment in his casual manner as he sits, befitting a man of power, and eyes befitting a certain yearning as he wanders around his club, particularly though on his current girlfriend. Now even as the film positions him as the villain, in which we are made that quite clearly from his girlfriend's long speech about how she wants out of the life, Bancroft doesn't go arch. Bancroft certainly carries himself with that confidence and assurance when speaking to her, but he does underlay within it a bit of earnest tenderness as well. Bancroft delivers an appreciated balance in his work even as his girlfriend's speech paints him as insidious. 

He also delivers the only real engagement within the film, though it isn't actually poorly directed by Josef F. Sternberg, which when he's off screen are filled with really dull scenes of Thunderbolt's girlfriend with her bland alternative to ole' Thunderbolt. The funny thing here being just Bancroft standing around and looking for his girlfriend is more engaging than seeing people actually speak. This as Bancroft has an actual presence and even within just looking there is a suggestion of who this guy is. Oddly enough though the film isn't a precursor to little Caesar, as we find it has a more comic intentions strangely, which we first meet as Thunderbolt is trying to distract a dog by getting on all fours himself. To Bancroft's credit he goes all into himself, and actually doesn't come off badly in trying to get the bit to work. This as brings a degree of charisma and even likability in the expression of the gangster bothering to spend time with the dog to get rid of it rather than resort to any sort of viciousness. This quickly leading to Thunderbolt's arrest, and again even going to jail, Bancroft's swagger is remarkable. This as he just carries himself as a kind of king, even within the jail. This creating the consistent sense of self-assurance who hasn't at all phased by the situation he's found himself in. This even when he asks for a light from a guard, Bancroft brings this great ease as he relaxes back in his chair and lack of shame in his delivery without hesitation, showing a man of great power even when behind bars. 

At first it seems like the film might be turning itself around as Thunderbolt is almost taking over the prison from the inside by earning favors from the warden by beating another criminal into submission. Again Bancroft carries this moment through sheer swagger and suggests a man just doing it for the fun of it. Nonetheless it earns the man that dog back, and Bancroft has a nice sweet moment of interaction there suggesting the softer side of the gangster. Sadly the boring couple rears its head as the boring other man shows up having been framed by Thunderbolt, and is also set to be executed. As much as they wail on and on in that classic, rather uninteresting, early talkies sort of way, credit must be maintained for Bancroft as he depicts in just quiet moments of reflection the sense of calculation in reacting to the man, speaking towards guilt  by confessing to get the man released but in fact trying to set up killing the man on the way to his own execution. Still as he awaits execution Bancroft naturally segues this within his silent work a sense of reflection rather than just execution. His final moment being a highlight as he stares down the man he exonerated. First with a tight glare with a murderous intent, that segues naturally towards a bemused understanding as he hears the story of how the romance between the boring couple predated his own. What we really see is Bancroft as an actor with an understanding for film. Although his vocal delivery I think would get a bit more attuned a few years later, though its not ever bad here just honestly speaks his line with more of a slower pace than needed, and again he still delivers the emotion more often than not, it is just a minor mark of the film period. That minor criticism though is made up by his real sense for the closeup, just as he stands just as any man would, rather than needing some stance easily noticed from the back of theater. His performance has the right confidence for the role, but also for the medium.

Best Actor 1928: Richard Barthelmess in The Patent Leather Kid

Richard Barthelmess received one of his two Oscar nominations for portraying the titular character of The Patent Leather Kid.

The Patent Leather Kid is a slow and overlong, though not really terrible film, that follows a boxer turned soldier.

 

Often times silent performers often had a pretty distinct look, I would say that isn't really true for Richard Barthelmess. He honestly just looks like "some guy", which does make it as easy to stand out within silence as some performers. Although I think to be fair to Barthelmess he doesn't have a lot of the qualities that are immediately more problematic in attempted dramatic silent actors. This as he doesn't immediately start doing the bug eyes and wild expressions, in fact it must be said he acts quite well in his opening scene, where we see the kid entering a boxing ring, described as having a great ego. Well Barthelmess exudes that with this sly grin on his face towards the crowd and just the manner of a man on top the world. A flaw I suppose with the film actually is this is not a silent film that makes use of the "handicapped" version of the medium particularly well. This as it often times kept me wishing we could actually hear the characters, which isn't always the case with silent films. I suppose one has to give credit to Barthelmess's performance however that I wished that. This as in his romantic scene, one can see the manner of the seduction in the instance, a seduction still with a certain narcissistic glint. This even as there is some ego felt, but in a way perhaps even more needed to be conveyed however that sits on the film rather than what Barthelmess is doing. Of course as much as Barthelmess establishes the character, he perhaps struggles a bit in making us care about him in any particular way, although I wouldn't say this is his fault.

I'll admit the film isn't helping him there when early on the film he punches out his love interest to shut her up, in what I believe is intended as a comic scene. I suppose Barthelmess handles that moment as best as he can but it doesn't endear us to the kid, even in a self-destructive protagonist kind of way. I suppose thankfully he gets knocked out himself, and again the break of that ego is actually a well performed moment. This in conveying the moment of disbelief and distress effectively to be sure. Afterwards even in his presentation of the man just with a bitterness within his expression. The film then shifts to being about World War I somewhat randomly, where the kid initially avoids fighting, but I guess enough people guilt him into it, to eventually do it. So as a soldier it must be said that Barthelmess continues to acquit himself well enough. We are given consistent understanding of his emotion, whether it be frustration of his position or eventually the natural wartime concerns. He kind of takes a backseat to the depiction of the war more often than not, but when it does cut to him he does deliver well enough. This even in a moment of dealing with a dying comrade, Barthelmess artfully goes from empathy, to sadness, to anger within the moment. It is without a doubt some fine performing. Although the film struggled to hold my attention whenever I saw what Barthelmess was actually doing, he was delivering on the story of the kid. This in his transformation from selfish boxer to selfless hero. I wouldn't say this is well articulated in the film, but Barthelmess creates the appropriate arc with just his own performance, at least to the best of his abilities given the limitations of the film. Although I felt particularly clinical when watching this film, I can't fault Barthelmess. This is a good performance that conveys the emotions of the piece without resorting to the standard overacting of the period, even if I never cared about the piece. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1970: Results

5. Klaus Kinski in Count Dracula - Kinski's in an uninspired adaptation, but gives an inspired portrayal of a vampire victim of a different sort.

Best Scene: Going to the window.

4. Christopher Plummer in Waterloo - Plummer gives the right degree of levity and grace to leave a strong impression as Napoleon's opponent, even if his co-star doesn't meet him halfway.

Best Scene: After the battle.

3. Bernard Cribbins in The Railway Children - Cribbins gives a wonderfully charming and funny portrayal that finds just the right tone for the material.

Best Scene: Surprise party.

2. David Warner in The Ballad of Cable Hogue - Warner, easily the best truly supporting turn of this lineup, that wonderfully plays with his usual dignified presence with great comedy as a shameless preacher.

Best Scene: "Consoling" the "widow"

1. Warren Oates in Barquero - Oates gives a great performance here delivering a surprising command in his presence, before slowly peeling that away to show the mad desperate man beneath it all.

Best Scene: Shooting the river.

Updated Overall

 

Next: Unfinished business....(though recommendation period also starts, so please feel free to recommend a film from a year that I've already done, a film from 2020  or a documentary/animated film from any year).

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1970: Klaus Kinski in Count Dracula

Klaus Kinski did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Renfield in Count Dracula. 

Count Dracula is a forgettable, if not pretty bad (unless they meant for the zooming dramatically at taxidermy scene to be hilarious), version of the oft told story. 

This version is aggressively perfunctory as there is little to no inspiration in the adaptation or direction. I suppose you get to hear Christopher Lee as Dracula speak, but even that isn't something one should get too hopeful about. It largely is just bland and a "going through the motions" style adaptation where the filmmakers seemed to make the film because "why not" I guess. The only person who seems to be doing anything remotely inspired is Herr Kinski as Renfield. This version that follows closer to the novel as we find the character institutionalized as a collateral damage type of victim of Dracula. Kinski's performance though seems out of another movie, a better one as we see him as basically a mute in his locked room. Kinski's performance is remarkable in the physicality of it. This sort of mentally deranged state as he shy's away from human contact and seems fixated elsewhere in every movement. This as though his mind is indeed elsewhere. Well the film juxtaposes elements to draw it as though he's fixated on Dracula, frankly Kinski's performance could just be a man broken by trauma and guilt. This as there is such a palatable undercurrent of pain within his eyes as he writhes around in his cell, and looks out towards "something". Kinski's performance delivering of course his trademark intensity, that is well used in making Renfield not just some standard drone, but a man stripped of all sense of his own mind. Sadly the film doesn't really have much sense for his work, as his screentime is quite limited. Kinski's performance, which honestly he'd find a familiar road with when he himself took on the Count in Nosferatu, seeks to bring a very human reality to the fantastical horror story. This idea of Renfield as intended as this victim of Dracula, but given a greater substance in creating a tangible idea of how a real man would come to be from such abuse. 

Alternate Best Actor 1970: Warren Oates in Barquero

Warren Oates did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Jacob "Jake" Remy in Barquero. 

Barquero is a decent, if largely unremarkable western, about a showdown between a group of bandits trying to transport their booty who need to cross a river and a township sorta led by a classically individualistic barge owner of that river, Travis (Lee Van Cleef).

Warren Oates was a character actor, who really put the character in character actor. Just someone who was distinctive just by his mere existence. Of course he also was quite capable of putting the actor in character actor as well. This is a striking display of that particularly when considered against his work in Sam Peckinpah westerns, or his masterful leading turn in Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia. Those performances often playing a memorable lout, or in that leading turn, a especially memorable turn of a man riding a desperate edge in every imaginable way. Here Oates gets the chance to play someone a bit more put together than his characters often are, at least initially, this as a bandit leader, and doesn't lose a step from those other turns of him. In fact it is remarkable how his very essence seems to change a little as there's such a innate confidence in his presence here, if perhaps even a certain "cool" to him. This suggesting right off the bat that if Oates's costar here, Lee Van Cleef, had not been available, Oates would have been a more than worthy alternative for the titular bad in The Good the Bad and The Ugly. This while his Jake here is a considerably different character from Angel Eyes the bad in that film, Oates carries a similar presence that Van Cleef had in that film. This sort of dominance of personality that is rather remarkable. This as he launches his men into a massacre to steal rifles, or even spends time with a woman, Oates carries an innate and palatable confidence within it. His blaring within an innate intensity, and as innate of a strength of his personality. 

Oates dominates here magnificently and quite powerfully within the scene of his initial victory with his men. What I love is though that Oates wields within this early on just the right degree of unpredictability within his performance, that suggests well where his Jake might be going later on. This when he finds one of his men sleeping with a woman rather than part of the fight, Jake's near instant killing of the men is with a brutal and cold efficiency. Oates portrays though moment with just this quick glint of a madness but also a fascinating almost reflective quality in his delivery as though the man is pondering his violent state, if for a moment. Afterwards we see the man as a true leader as he goes along his parade of success, though there is the slight complication in that Jake is essentially the leader of the muscle though with the technical leader of the expedition, the soldier Marquette (Kerwin Mathews). This relationship being an essential aspect of the character, which Oates will develop throughout his work. In his prime though Oates exudes the power of a true leader as he goes along with the men. This as Oates doesn't just portray the confidence but there is also a sense of camaraderie and joy as he looks along the men. There is the sense of shared weight of the victory and the sense that he sees the men, and they see him, more than just their current boss, but as their leader. It really though connects to what Oates's work here is, which is one that feels above the call of duty here. This as well this isn't a bad film by any measure, it's not a great one, but Oates seems intent on treating the material with the intention that it will be. 

 

This as Oates honestly doesn't waste a moment of his work here. This as he's compelling even when just in scenes. For example the beginning of the showdown, where Travis will not lend the gang his barge, every one of Oates's stares are worth a 10 lines of dialogue at least. There's so much that he brings more than just a grimace, though he certainly conveys the frustration there. There's a hint of almost admiration in the reaction and a curious interest in the nature of the man who will take this stand. Oates simply never just "looks" in a scene rather he always not only conveys what is needed for the tension of the scenes, but also what is going on with Jake in these moments. The film then becomes this showdown of will as much as force even, as Jake is called upon to find a way to win. When discussing the intention with Marquette, Oates presents a man burdened with position and ambition. His delivery of insisting on taking the river not just anger over the present situation, but also a palatable sense of pride in a hope of advancing in some way. Again I think what needs to be noted throughout is the detail that Oates brings and tries to really grant an idea of this man attempting to lead within the moment. There's moment where Jake bluntly disciplines another of his men, and again Oates just powerfully controls the moment. Now Oates is often playing dangerous characters, but more so in a "what he might do" wild way, here he shows a man who "will do" something. This in the innate determination he carries within the character's eyes, even as things begin to fail. This as Jake begins taking drugs as progress is not made, and we are given the one great flashback into the character, where we see him being almost killed by the Imperial Mexican army, which Marquette was a member of. Honestly the scene just makes me wish the whole film was about Jake, as Oates brings such a sense of the vicious beat down, but also the dogged conviction of Jake in the silent moment of just barely saving his life by killing Marquette's former leader. Oates's whole performance though conveys the idea of a man built up by this experience of finding his ways to claw to the top. This as the next step, the barge, seemingly cannot be overcome and Oates depicts the natural state of the man's mind's degradation from it. 

 

Oates's wild ferocity as Jake is unable to break Travis's resolve is striking, but the best moment is the calm in Oates's portrayal as he embraces then shoots the river after a mad ramble. I almost wonder if the scene in the script only because it so much more brilliant than the rest of the film. Of course Oates is essential in this either way, this as attacking the river, that is the bane of him, creates this quiet and broken satisfaction in his expression and delivery of "I shot the river" with a slight grin, is perfection of a man being destroyed from the inside out through his predicament. This leaving the climax, which is mostly fine, but what stands out about it is Oates basically riffing on the whole thing in his performance. This as he portrays Jake on a whole different wavelength than everyone else throughout, with this strange detachment to the experience. Oddly the strongest emotion throughout the film is actually Oates's genuinely heartbreaking reaction to the death of one of his men, whose pleading with him, as Marquette's plan has failed. Oates showing the genuine leader in the moment as he's affected by the man's words, while also displaying the growing mental break still as his violent reaction towards the loss, is presented in this amazing combination of directness and detachment in Oates. This as he speaks as man's mind is wavering though still with the eyes of a man of intention, even if he's lost it. This as even when he kills one of Travis's allies, Oates does so with this curious expression of the man almost gone from the normal frame of mind as he looks with analysis of the event more so than even hate towards the man. It is an incredible portrayal of a breakdown, and so much greater than the ambitions of his film otherwise. Although Barquero is not a great western, Oates treats it as such, and delivers a great western villain. This as not just treating Jake as a throwaway menacing black hat, but genuinely giving a sense of the man underneath the hat.

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1970: Bernard Cribbins in The Railway Children

Bernard Cribbins did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite being nominated for a BAFTA, for portraying Albert Perks in The Railway Children. 

The Railway Children is a charming small film about a group of children, who are forced to move to a country home, go on a series adventures around a railway station. 

Bernard Cribbins plays the friendly railroad station master that the now relatively poor children spend time around during the day. Cribbins in his opening scene just bring an endearing energy to make a stamp with the character. This with his enthusiasm, though tempered believably by Cribbins, in describing various parts of the station to the children. Cribbins brings a natural sort of friendliness by not going overboard in the moments, but just bringing the right degree of agreeableness. This is neither wholly showing the man focused upon the children's questions, though definitely taking time for each of them. The children's interest eventually brings the man to call on their home to offer his expertise on an engine they have and in general to grow his friendship with them. Cribbins brings the right comic awkwardness to these moments early on. This is nicely done as it kind of avoid making his scenes overly sweet, while also bringing just a wry kind of energy to them as well. It is a wonderful combination he brings that balances the interaction well. This showing that it is indeed atypical, but still finding just a natural warmth in it. Cribbins's moments throughout the film are much appreciated. This as each make just the right impression, whether this be chatting engines, or a moment of his slight, if still wholly endearing, annoyance when the kids overestimate his age. Cribbins is terrific in that he manages to make the relationship atypical still, but also wholly believable and sweet all the same. This really being tested however when the kids decide to surprise him with gifts on his birthday. As much as Cribbins's brief scenes are little gems, this scene is the best of the film, and the highlight of Cribbins's performance. This as he does so much within it. This in his quick reactions towards his wife and kids where he portrays such a combination of a consternation but also almost fatherly proper-ness, in the moment of dealing with the surprise while also trying to deal with his family. Cribbins instantly granting a sense of who Perks is as a father and husband, while also showing his vulnerabilities as he becomes somewhat perturbed by the children's surprise. This as Perks thinks it will be seen as a handout. Cribbins is delightful in the frustrations that he hits within a comic sense in showing the pride of the man in such a way. This as he balances his work again as he is moving in the sense of real vulnerability in his eyes that shows the pride of the man but also the sense of being moved by the action within it. This still though also still being calmly amusing in showing the man's manner of getting caught up on circumstance rather than just enjoying the gift. Cribbins finding such a sense of life in the moment and wholly making the scene both affecting and funny. This is just a delightful performance that brings such a life to his film and character. Every moment of his being charming in such a low key but undeniable way. Cribbins finding the right sense of heart to it all, and bringing to life the film's merits most admirably. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1970: David Warner in The Ballad of Cable Hogue

David Warner did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Joshua in The Ballad of Cable Hogue. 

The particularly consistent David Warner has seemed game for most anything in his career from more serious dramas towards genre affairs, like his multiple Star Trek appearances, and even comedies. This film being squarely in that final column with Warner perhaps the most comic element of the film, which he is most game for. This as Joshua, a preacher, that we meet as he runs across the titular Cable Hogue (Jason Robards)'s watering hole. Warner who more often played more dignified sorts, even as villains, gets to play around with that presence wonderfully here. This as his magnificent voice and manner certainly conducts the proper facade of a preacher, however his sloppy way of running off to the drinking hole, and his unabashed way of attempting to speak of his own basically con man ideas, Warner undercuts this wonderfully. Warner though finds rather the balance in his moments with Robards in his eagerness and interest in the water has the shades of a palatable greed, however in a way Warner makes this strange endearing by being so falsely coy about it. Warner is so much fun here as he just throws himself into the part, making Joshua strangely likable in this initial scene even as he makes one ask more than a few questions about his claims of being spiritually enlightened, or just really his general moral state as a man. It is as a strange but oh so wonderful sidekick to Robards that Warner makes Joshua, having just the right bit of tempered ridiculousness that finds the proper tone for the film. He's never too much but always just enough. 

Warner initially just showing a similarly minded man who can find the great monetary success in the well placed watery hole, and his reactions, of success by proximity are great bit of unashamed greed. Warner though gets to go further as he goes about "plying" his trade by consoling a "widow" with this religious sense. Warner is hilarious in this scene in portraying with such divine zealotry his speaking of every word to her, that is far more seduction than consoling of a widow. Warner's portrayal bringing just the right disregard for decency by bringing such a striking emphasis in each word through that regal voice of his while also still showing just the utmost earthly lust within his expression. All the better though is the comedy that ensues when the woman's very alive husband returns, with her more than willing to hope that Joshua can "help" her husband. Warner's reaction to that is pure gold of disgust just in his classical farce fear of being caught with his hand more than just in the cookie jar to say the least. His physical work again being just magnificent as he becomes more weasel than man of God, in attempting to run from the room bumping into a locked door. Warner again though being great in switching from a hilarious expression of abject fear, towards that of clear refinement, and a zen like ease as he attempts to "console" both husband and wife now as his way out of the house. Keeping this overt dignity as he leads the prayer, well except Warner's perfectly executed eye movement as Joshua carefully readjusts the wife's garment, he had helped adjust. 

Warner is quite simply a delight, making the most out of every second of his screentime as a proper scoundrel, you can't help but enjoy which is quite a trick on its own. This as even as he hides out with Cable, having successfully fully "consoled" the wife this time, Warner is a grand fool once again. This again in his oh so artful combination of a phony lordliness with his true nature as basically a lusty idiot. This in pleading his case with a pathetic desperation though Warner still comically funneling this through the demeanor of attempt's at grace at every turn. Warner excelling within realizing this duality of the character that is a singularity within his entertaining work. This in wholly revealing what is really a fiendish charlatan as just as he is, but doing it in such a particularly enjoyable and always oddly likable way. Warner again executing every single moment of comedy so well, and I would say no one better in the film seems to understand how to make the film's idiosyncratic tone work. Warner does so as he is always walking a fine line on possibly being too broad, but never falling off into it. This approach rather he uses it to enliven every moment that he does appear. The highlight of this however being however his final scene where he comes in last second to find a dying Cable, wounded fatally by an out of control automobile. Warner's amazing in this scene as Cable calls on Joshua to give his eulogy while Cable still lives. Warner's reactions are key though in sensing in each one, every little admiring glint, just showing a natural honest friendship between he and Cable over their mutual misadventures, that doesn't need to be stated however instead is so naturally exuded by Warner's performance. Warner though then goes into with a marvelous showman's manner of speaking towards Cable with great affection but also a nearly over the top grandeur. Warner selling the man almost as one would speak of a legend of old rather than a living man in front of us. This before the film cuts to Cable's actual funeral, and Warner is outstanding as he changes his delivery from that of the showman, that still undercut Joshua's virtuousness, and instead now finally speaks as an actual preacher for the Lord. This as Warner delivers with a somber and understated conviction of a man genuinely remembering his friend, and offering his case up to the heavens. This is a great performance by David Warner, that makes proper comical use of a more wild off-beat energy for, while also still offering that specific power of his presence, however here brilliantly subverted to give just give a truly memorable portrait of a rouge preacher.