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

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

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

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

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

Alternate Best Actor 1974: Alan Bates in Butley

Alan Bates did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying the titular character of Butley. 

Butley is a very stagy film as directed by the famed playwright Harold Pinter about one man rambling on. 

What makes that synopsis work on any level is the rambling man in question, that is a tired English professor who pretty much is near some kind of rock bottom as he approaches his day, cutting his face with a razor and then proceeding to choose to mark up everyone he meets in a psychological sense. Bates might be one of the least talked about British actors who rose within the period of the 60s, but that says nothing regarding his talent as a performer, which was considerable. This whole film is essentially Bates unchained as he goes about portraying the perpetually witty and bitter Butley, ready to cut all down who come into his presence. Bates opens the film in this state of the man pretty much sunken and quite wretched as it seems he can barely even shave right, which seems to denote his very existence. The very existence that he deals with by turning his ire toward those around him. 

His first victim we find is his homosexual lover and colleague at their university, the latter who is unfortunate enough to also share his office. Bates's performance articulates a man who exists purely into trying to bite into another while also seething in this sense of self-loathing. Bates balances both to be the perfect sort of pinprick, well dropping the pin might be more accurate, in creating the specific sort of "elegant' viciousness. Bates's taking his already rather refined accent and kind of upping the superiority of it just a bit more. Bates speaks the words of Butley with the conviction and purpose of a true poet if the purpose of such a poet was all bile deep into his throat. Bates's line of attack towards his theoretical kindred man at one point is kind of a strange sort of dance of insults that reveal in combination a tapestry of hurt and hate in equal measure. Bates puts the man down with each cutting word but at the same time when speaking of the man leaving him, there is as intense of Butley's genuine anxiety over it. 

I think essential within this performance is that you very much sense the joy of performance within Bates's work, this is particularly important to grant any kind of levity within a character who really is all about inflicting misery and also feeling misery. Bates must be said does have fun in the role and exudes that in the right way that never subverts the nature of the character, however, makes it easier to spend time within his company. Bates basically sings the lines as he goes about the past and present of his relationship. Bates swaps around his methods so naturally and effectively in articulating the sort of mad genius of his Butley. It is kind of deranged but it is also kind of particular in a way that couldn't be more biting. Bates changes his voice a la Olivier in Sleuth in a way that is entertaining in itself but also shows the way Butley is always kind working in some kind of strange improvisation in his particular form of mental games. 

Bates is a bit different depending on whom he is speaking to, for example when speaking with who is purely a colleague in his institution Edna (Jessica Tandy). Bates still is bringing that playful quality but now it seems a bit more playful. He seems to articulate his ideas with a bit less hate. Bates brings a bit more of reserved quality that also suddenly reveals a bit more weakness and that anxiety about his work. He creates the sense of the man truly holding less well together in these moments when it isn't as easy to throw around his hate. Although when she leaves his presence, Bates is just as hateful towards her as anyone else, except Bates plays the moment even blunter and creates a loss of the facade of being indifferent. We rather see the man who attempts to hold any power through his bitterness and his technical wit. Bates though showing the game that Butley is playing in the successive scenes begins to wear on the man, and the sadness within begins to reveal itself just that bit more. Bates though wielding this qualities quite effortlessly depending on the party, and while it seems Butley hates everyone to a degree, the way it articulates itself is different within his performance. 

What Bates does here is more than the heavy lifting of the film, he is holding any qualities of the film on his back, and frankly, the film is asking too much of him as the film relies so wholly on Bates's performance to make the drama compelling. Bates manages to be everything he needs to be, which is a whole lot, while also being so essentially compelling just on his own, which he needs. This is every running-on a bit of monologue Bates not only has his go at it, but he also makes go of it and never misses a technical beat within his work. He manages to maintain the flow of the character's banter while still showing the ever-existing bit of self-loathing. The latter breaks and bends depending on who is talking about, the familiar or the acquaintance. Bates balances each moment through his deliveries of a killer tongue, yet his expression always can denote that much more pain that is deep within the man and very much decides who the man is. Although there are other characters this might as well be a one-man show of Bates purposefully acting around everyone, and doing quite the job of it. Although the film itself isn't successful, which is too dependent on Bates to the point of such stagnation around him, however, Bates delivers a great performance regardless. It is an articulate, elegant, broken and abrasive depiction of a man who hates everything but perhaps himself most of all. An effortlessly dynamic performance on its own, even as the film might've done him a bit more justice if it bothered to do anything other than essentially say "eh let's just watch Bates act". Which again, Bates is game for, delivers on, but it is a shame the film couldn't have done at least a little something to support its worth around him. 

Best Actor Backlog Volume 4

And the Overlooked Performances Are:

James Cagney in The Public Enemy

Toshiro Mifune in The Bad Sleep Well

Anthony Hopkins in A Doll's House

Alan Bates in Butley

Ray Milland in Alias Nick Beal

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2016: Woody Harrelson in The Edge of Seventeen & Hugo Weaving in Hacksaw Ridge & Results

Woody Harrelson did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Mr. Bruner in The Edge of Seventeen. 

The Edge of Seventeen follows high school outcast Nadine (Hailee Steinfeld) as her life seemingly gets worse when her best friend starts dating her brother. 

This entry into the genre is particularly good for its considerable sense of humor much of which exists within the character of Woody Harrelson's history teacher Mr. Bruner, a character that is often the caring and supportive sort. The opening of the film is a flashforward featuring Nadine as she announces her intention to commit suicide to Mr. Bruner. What follows is one of the funniest scenes of 2016  via Harrelson's perfect delivery with his false sincerity as he announces that her words are "a lot to take in", followed by a perfect deadpan as he announces the fact that he had been drafting his own suicide letter at the same time, before reading it off that notes his exasperation with Nadine and his preference for the peace of a cold death rather than her taking his lunchtime away. Harrelson emphasizes every single word with a kind of honest lack of sincerity, as he makes the annoyance towards losing his time real while being as phony in the best way possible as he delivers each word as an extra degree of truth towards Nadine, before switching to the perfect excrement eating grin when he declares his hope that his indifference would get him fired. Although the film then proceeds to flashback what we get from Harrelson is random appearances of great comedy throughout the film whenever Nadine runs into him. Harrelson's embodying this note-perfect long-term teacher who has seen it all in one way or another. Harrelson's hilarious then doling out his particularly blunt wisdom when noting that Nadine does herself no favors. 

Harrelson though of course delivers these extra bluntly, such as when retorting that maybe she should have a life rather than focusing on one mistake he made during a lecture or noting that she might just be not particularly likable for her lack of friends. Harrelson delivers all of this with impeccable timing that makes his theoretical cruelty pure comic gold, although he does do a bit more to enable the character to serve his purpose beyond the comedy. Harrelson's performance always has this right knowing quality in his eyes as someone who has seen this before even with his approach that does suggest his callousness, while funny, isn't all there is. We develop more so into this as he reads out an impulsive sexually explicit text that Nadine sent, which Harrelson delivers with comic perfection as Mr. Bruner slowly uncovers its nature as he goes along starting with an initial "this isn't so bad" before starting to see it for what it is. As blunt as Mr. Bruner is, when he notes that Nadine is his favorite student and gives her part of her cookie, Harrelson is able to carry with it a more genuine sense of care even within the sarcasm that defines the man. Harrelson's great because he doesn't switch from the note, he rather carries the note authentically from who this guy is and the way he deals with students, likely students like Nadine before. It isn't a sudden shift rather just even though he's still callous, he does care but in his own way. Harrelson ends up being this source of comfort as he is able to create rather brilliantly the sense of sincerity within the sarcastic cynicism, without breaking either which is impressive. How? Well, Harrelson's comic moments again have the right sort of distance in that they definitely are jokes to him as blunt as they are, however when we do see the concern, which Harrelson plays entirely in his eyes, that is wholly genuine though not at all forced. It is a terrific comic performance from Harrelson as he runs with the humor that defines the character, but when he needs to give just the right amount of heart, he does so with a natural ease. 

Hugo Weaving did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Tom Doss in Hacksaw Ridge. 

Hugo Weaving exists in probably the least successful portion of the film featuring the pre-war times where the tonal clash is aggressively evident. The scenes that work best are those that follow squarely on Hugo Weaving as Tom Doss the father of our hero Desmond (Andrew Garfield). Weaving's performance is defined by Tom Doss being a man who mentally died in World War I despite surviving in the body. Weaving's performance is as a broken man specifically as everything about him seems as though he is weighted down within his existence. His face drowns down into a state of just barely holding it together so as not to fall apart constantly, his own physical being sunken and filled with a painful depression. Weaving's performance suggests almost a barely functioning corpse forced to still walk the earth while feeling the constant pain of his death all the same. Every moment we see him there is suffering laden within him whether it be just beneath the surface or constantly oozing out of him. Weaving's best moments come when his sons decide to enter World War II, first his older son Doss's brother, where Weaving is outstanding throughout the dinner scene when Doss's brother arrives in army uniform. Weaving's initial impression with quiet disbelief and an immediate sense of pain. And what is always remarkable is when a performance that is already in a deep pit can somehow go further into that pit. Weaving does this as regales a tale of a local boy who had a clean-cut uniform, and Weaving pressures into each word irony of a man with a broken yet true perspective on the situation. When he finishes the tale by noting the bloody death of the man and hoping his son's death will be cleaner, Weaving's lips quiver as the man barely able to speak the words, and his eyes only become more filled with anguish. Weaving showing as much as the father is brutal, all of this comes from a very real pain at seeing his son potentially die, and when he tells his son to get out of his sight, the anger of it is wrapped by an overpowering sadness. His conversation with Desmond when he enlists is a bit different and I like how in it, Weaving conveys a different relationship with the son he knows is different. Weaving still exudes the petrifying fear and sadness as he looks at his son, however now his trying to explain the situation is with earnest desperation trying to convince him that as a man of faith, in the way Desmond is, it can't work out. What Weaving shows with each scene as much as this is a deeply flawed man, all of what he is comes from his ptsd, and is heartbreaking in depicting his horrible state. The one scene where he seems out of this, and I think Weaving uses particularly well, is when Tom goes about helping Desmond avoid court martial by getting a letter from a General, and former comrade in arms. Weaving's performance in the scene of saving his son from legal punishment shows a potential other side to Tom. Although his eyes are still of the broken man, when Weaving speaks there is a real passion within it as he speaks of Desmond's rights and what he must've fought the previous war for. In the moment Weaving shows strength in Tom, and suggests in it the man he might've been, if he hadn't been scarred so deeply by his past.  

Updated Overall

Next: Backlog and recommendations. 

Alternate Best Actor 2016: Results

10. Jean-Pierre Léaud in The Death of Louis XIV - A decent enough performance in a film that just slowly prods along to a somber end. 

Best Scene: Near the end. 

9. Joe Seo in Spa Night - A decent if limited portrayal of sexual repression.

Best Scene: "gay chicken"

8. Paul Dano in Swiss Army Man - Dano offers some honest reality to a completely absurd concept and shares a striking chemistry with his odd co-star. 

Best Scene: "Bus Ride"

7. Nawazuddin Siddiqui in Raman Raghav - Siddiqui gives a impactful and disturbing portrayal of a man with a calm psychopathy. 

Best Scene: Earl Speech

6. Don Cheadle in Miles Ahead - Cheadle gives an effective portrayal of the two extreme sides of Miles Davis, though the film's sloppiness diminishes his efforts just a bit. 

Best Scene: Talking about his music. 

5. Jarkko Lahti in The Happiest Day in the Life of Olli Mäki - Lahti gives an endearing and moving portrayal of the man who is having the most important day of his life though not for the expected reasons. 

Best Scene: Boardwalk conversation. 

4. Adrian Titieni in Graduation - Titieni gives a compelling portrayal of a man who is blinded by a singular conviction. 

Best Scene: Asking for a favor. 

3. Hiroshi Abe in After the Storm - Abe gives a moving portrayal of a man who never quite comes to terms with his own immaturity. 

Best Scene: Getting bad news from his wife. 

2. Shahab Hosseini in The Salesman - Hosseini gives a wholly captivating and powerful portrayal of a man seeking revenge though as a man completely alien to the concept. 

Best Scene: Just one more thing. 

1. Tadanobu Asano in Harmonium - Good predictions Shaggy, Calvin, Brazinterma, Tahmeed and Oliver.  Asano dominates his film with his unpredictable performance that leaves a most haunting impression. 

Best Scene: Revealing his intentions. 

Updated Overall

Next: Review of Woody Harrelson and updated supporting. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2016: Tadanobu Asano in Harmonium

Tadanobu Asano did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Yasaka in Harmonium. 

Harmonium depicts the changes in a family after the father's old friend comes to live with the family. 

Tadanobu Asano plays the role that one should always be suspicious of, the stranger who ingratiates himself in a family. Asano's performance suggests such concerns as he first appears with this very exact posture that suggests someone who has been through some rigorous experience for some time. Asano's manner crafts an innate tension about him even as he delivers his line with this humble calm of someone apparently just looking for some kind of charity, at least in the perspective of the wife Akie and daughter of the young family, less so the father who seems to know more than he's letting on in his way he just seems to accept Yasaka's presence. What the film does, and Asano does is initially subvert one's expectations of such a character as he begins to speak more with the family. When Yasaka asks the mother about her Christian faith, for example, something the father nor Yasaka share the former seems rather dismissive, Asano instead speaks with a kind of tenderness and interest. The speaking manner at the very least opens up a bit as he even smiles and there appears to be a bit of warmth in a man, even loving, and suggests perhaps this stranger isn't such a bad sort after all. We see Yasaka ingratiate himself further by helping the daughter with her playing of the titular instrument and just continuing to talk to the mother with an openness that her husband lacks. Asano's work creates an image of a man finding some loving expression even as he continues to reveal more about himself which perhaps should raise a few concerns. Yasaka reveals himself to have been recently released from prison, something that Asano's posture had alluded to by presenting a man within an institutionalized system of control, for murder specifically. This isn't as disconcerting as it should be because of Asano's presentation of it. He discusses it with this calm yet eagerness to quietly share his trauma it would seem. Although he speaks his reasons for the murder as almost this logical act of personal code Asano still projects it mixed with regret, allowing Akie to seemingly accept his crime as he speaks it with some sense that it was a crime, even if at the same time he expresses it as though not a crime at all. Quite the neat trick from both the character of Yasaka and Asano.

The character shifts to something else again, though again not as immediately disconcerting as it should be because of Asano's performance. He begins to romance Akie however even this initially Asano presents as though he is potentially the "romantic" other man who listens to her needs and presents his own plight with a willing sensitivity to share his past trauma and crimes. Asano frames all that should make Yasaka immediately suspicious as something that makes him oddly appealing and it is all in the exact manner of presenting with a willing attempt at sympathy and empathy. Asano shifts again to perhaps what we might've suspected from the initial idea of the mysterious stranger as he reveals his intention to the husband. There Asano is absolutely brilliant in suddenly this vile intensity he brings to every word as he speaks plainly to the husband, revealing all his hate for him and this vicious sense of jealousy in his eyes as he notes all the man has during the time in which Yasaka had been in jail for, a crime which is revealed to have been shared by both men. Suddenly now his moments of romancing the Akie take upon a different tone, Asano presenting them with a kind of attack, even if not overtly at first, but his eyes now filled with lust as he seems to not be trying to win the Akie over rather he wants to take her. Asano gradually becomes more chilling in each successive scene as Yasaka no longer hides his seemingly more nefarious purpose, leading to a moment of trying to rape the Akie where Asano presents a man with a destructive intensity in every motion and his eyes now filled with hate, not love. After successfully pushing him away we see another disturbing end as we see Yasaka standing over the injured daughter, and now Asano's very presence seems so chilling as this strange state of bitter vengeance before he disappears again. Yasaka leaving an impression on the family they will never forget and Asano leaving an impression on the viewer. Even after he no longer appears the slight hint of his possible return leaves a lingering paranoia. Asano gives an amazing haunting performance that crafts such a potent character who breaks your initial expectation only to then later fulfill it in such painful unexpected way.