Alternate Best Actor & Best Supporting Actor 1932: Robert Lynen & Harry Baur in Poil de Carotte

Robert Lynen did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Francois Lepic aka Carrottop in Poil de Carotte. 

Poil de Carotte follows a pastoral family through the perspective of the ignored youngest child.

In the time when most child performances were forgettable or terrible, where really the standard for many adult performances in cinema often was that of stiff of overacting, you have a turn here by Robert Lynen, who from his first scene, where he must explain an essay that spoke of the poor nature of his family, we see a performance far flung from that standard. Lynen does the often seemingly impossible for the time, which is merely natural onscreen. Lynen certainly is that as he evokes the boy who's a bit out of sorts, but still seems likable enough as the concerned teacher inquires about his writing. Lynen's performance goes beyond just being natural, as he's natural with a greater depth, as he presents the anxiety of the young boy who just seems a bit lost. When talking about his family he manages to balance within the simple emotions of a boy, however with the complexity in the nature of the emotion. As he delivers his lines with the immediacy of the boy just trying to get the teacher to understand with the blunt anguish of a boy who just doesn't get his love. Where the complexity lies, it isn't a simple sadness, rather he delivers within this sense of confusion within his performance. A confusion that denotes a boy who can't understand why his father ignores him, and his mother constantly forces him to do work without showing any motherly affection towards him. But all the same, when the teacher encourages to give his parents a chance, there is a painful glint of hope on his expression as he decides to give it a chance. 

Unfortunately Carrottop's claims of his family aren't at all false, as when he goes about embracing his father (Harry Baur) with the utmost earnestness, presented by Lynen as a simple yet pure of desire for affection, the father is merely surprised and pushes him off, being more focused on his hunting trips, his political career and any excuse to get away from his wife. His wife, Carrottop's mother, is said to be horrible, and she is in every way as she instantly picks at the poor boy demanding only work from him without anything in return. The initial moments of this are heartbreaking because of Lynen's performance only conveys again that simple desire for any affection, not any. And what is more painful is seeing that hope the teacher put within him, completely crumble in his reactions that show the boy just going back to his old ways all in such short order. Lynen's performance is so effective because what he does is convey bluntly the situation within the boy, and how unassuming in so many ways he is in his attempt to find some sort of comfort at any point. As what Lynen's performance does is always emphasize the difficulty of the youth, but as a youth specifically. There's many wonderful moments between Carrottop and the family's new maid, who gives the boy much more time than was ever granted to him by anyone in the family. Lynen's terrific in presenting the frustrations because it is with the urge and needs of a child, and has a certain petulance in his manner, however in that there is always a blunt truth in his performance. 

Where the film in general excels altogether is through the child's perspective which even includes visual representation of such, such as ghosts haunting the boy when he has to do a chore at night, but more importantly to Lynen's performance we often see the boy haunted by the worst of his thoughts, which often suggest suicide. Lynen's performance as both of the boy's two patterns of thoughts in these scenes is quite moving because at the same time, literally, he represents both the hope of what the child needs and what the pain of what the child feels. There is a bluntness about it that is particularly heartbreaking because when his "other voice" suggests suicide each time, it is with a kind of clarity, where his own thoughts react in a panic at first. And we see how this connects to even the boy being scared of thoughts of ghosts when going about chores at night. Lynen shows the difficulty of dealing with the complex, which often results in the simple reaction, however that simple reaction always feels completely honest and even more hurtful. When he rebels against his mother's constant demanding of work from him, it is as the child having a tantrum, but there is always in his eyes that desire for some recognition of him as more than just a worker. The sequence near the end of the film where he commits to suicide is heart wrenching because Lynen's performance shows in his face just how lost the boy is, and always searching for affection, so the solution becomes his only one. 

Harry Baur did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Monsieur Lepic in Poil de Carotte.

Harry Baur plays the father of Lynen's character and for much of the film is a man of few words towards the boy. Rather Baur, who has a great presence as a performer, just exudes a man who is kind of fed up with his existence with his family, and just is set on other things, such as hunting and his politics. Baur's performance is careful in that while the character is cruel, he isn't purposefully so in his manner towards Carrottop who he treats just as he does with everything in his family, as something he gives a quick passive attention to, before he moves off towards his chosen activity. We see the cause of this through some key moments of interaction with his wife, where you see just his quiet bitterness in every glance, and where everyone else he just exists with you see the history of hate between the two. Baur's performance is made by really pulling off the difficult task of earning the ending, which is when a family friend informs the father, right after he's won his election, that his son is about to kill himself. Baur's performance earns this sudden snap towards paternal concern as he rushes out to find his son, and Baur is extremely moving in managing this single reaction to show the sense of shame in his ignoring, and the immediate real love for the boy that just reveals itself in the moment. That's only part of the earning though as the other half is when he finds the boy in just the nick of time, and both he and Lynen are great together. Because you see in a moment's notice, now that the father is taking time just to earnestly talk to his son, the sense of warmth between the two is overwhelming yet feels completely genuine despite how we got here. The moment in particular of the father finally referring to the boy by his actual name, is filled with so much real affection for a true dad. And contrasting that is Lynen's performance, where he shows just this sincerest discovery of love, and how that is all the boy needed. He too earns this immediate switch, because throughout it, that's all the boy suggested he needed,  and when he finds it the interaction couldn't be more cathartic. Lynen gives a truly moving depiction of the forgotten child, finally finding love, and Baur offering the able assist, as the dad finally snaps out of his haze to see what has been missing this entire time. 

1958 Alternate Supporting Results

 Updated Overall

Next: 1932 Lead and Supporting (doubt it will be a lineup.)

Alternate Best Actor & Best Supporting Actor 1958: John Mills, Harry Andrews & Anthony Quayle in Ice Cold in Alex

John Mills did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Captain Anson, nor did Harry Andrews for portraying M.S.M. Pugh, or Anthony Quayle, despite receiving a BAFTA nomination, for portraying Captain van der Poel in Ice Cold in Alex. 

Ice Cold in Alex is an excellent survival film about a small group during WWII trying to get their ambulance back to British lines. 

The success of this film is built in part by its small but wonderful ensemble of our ambulance crew. We begin with our commanding officer in John Mills's Captain Anson, where Mills, who often played the proper British soldier, is very much not the proper British soldier in many ways in this film. Mills wears the war on his face, and as much as the man is still successfully acting as the commanding officer as preps for this next journey into the war, the man's filled with an unquestioned sense of stress with an underlying mental decay within the man. Balancing that out initially is Harry Andrews as his right hand man, Pugh. The last time I covered Andrews was as the personification of the rigid military system in The Hill, and while he's playing a military man, he's far flung from that later performance here. Andrews though is really far flung from any performance I've seen from him, as more often than not he's a hard if not cold man of some ilk. Here Andrews is honestly just wonderful in not just being the right hand man but the best friend of Mill's Anson. As in the prep scenes, Andrews's performance is absolutely pitch perfect in his reactions to the obvious ill state of Anson, and in every moment Andrews acts so much with his eyes in showing the sense of empathy. The man clearly sees the somewhat dire state of his friend, even while still putting on the proper show as his military subordinate by following orders, even with that very specific glance when Anson once again falls upon more alcohol for his chosen "medicine". 

The crew end up picking up two nurses, the ill-fated Denise and the far more proactive Diana (Sylvia Syms). And along the way they quickly see the constant dangers of their trip as they are driving around land mines, in addition to avoiding bombardment and of course just the fact that they're going through a desert. And each man we see takes separate roles in this situation. Mills is perhaps at his most effective as an actor here in presenting a man who is essentially a functional nervous wreck, as he still speaks as a commander, still does the job, but everything on the edge of his performance, whether it be his hectic physical manner or particularly the anxiety within his eyes, denotes a man who is about to collapse at any moment, despite still driving his way through one danger after another. Meanwhile Andrews is the comfort in the film and provides so much warmth here. His initial conversations with Diana are beautifully performed by Andrews as he quietly, but so gently full of heart describes Anson's increasing use of alcohol from the war particularly having been captured. Andrews so naturally expresses Pugh's care in every word, while still showing the man to be the professional soldier, but the professional soldier who absolutely cares for his CO. And more than that the way he informs Diana he speaks every line with this urging for understanding and an attempt to help. There's a modesty even in it, he is brandishing his charity, he just absolutely exudes it as the nature of Pugh. 

The film is given its genius wrinkle with the introduction of a Afrikkaner soldier they find in the desert, Captain van der Poel played by Anthony Quayle. Quayle is an actor I have liked, though this is the type of performance to completely adjust your perspective of his talents, because where other performances of his are often of the British of the stiff upper lip in one way or another, this is an extreme departure from that. The most obvious aspect being his South African accent he is using, but that's not the half of it, or even a quarter of it, though effective within itself. Quayle's whole demeanor here is of a different nature entirely as he's much more just thrusting himself across the screen and making his presence known here. Quayle instantly makes a statement with this boisterousness and even a bit of bawdy manners of the man, who seems almost too happy to be in the middle of this desert and ready to join this group. This group that almost immediately this Captain begins to hector more than a bit. Quayle brings this knowing smile but also speaks up most dominantly in his delivery that is more than a touch dismissive of his compatriots. And Quayle's approach here is so different from so many of his performances, as he transforms entirely as van der Poel, as not only is he not the stiff upper lip, rather he's the guy almost making fun of that whole notion with the way he goes about prodding Captain Anson, and smirks as though the man knows far more than he should at any given point. 

And this is where the film truly takes off to greatness because now we have a tight knit group of characters to bounce off of. And we have an interesting dynamic that develops between the group of Diana trying to figure out each man in her way, then the other three each taking on a different role. Mills successfully does the very difficult thing which is part of the defining quality of his performance is his character's inconsistencies. Being inconsistent is an easy way simply to seem inconsistent in one's performance, however Mills avoids such a pitfall by showing essentially it is a mix between the past of Anson and the present. His performance for example when showing the South African Captain the way around a mind field, there is a conviction in his manner even if there is also a hectic urgency about him. This is in contrast with Quayle's performance where he seems to have pure confidence in his manner towards Mills and basically shows the Captain who seemingly has it all together, even laughing off the British Captain's alcoholism regardless. Mills though earns the moment where the South African Captain makes his first brush with death where he thinks he's stepped on a mine, and there's suddenly the switch so naturally by both performers. As Quayle presents bluntly the intensity of fear on the man's face, meanwhile Mills becomes perhaps the confident man of old as he goes down and reveals the would be mine is nothing but a bean can. However that is all in contrast to when the group comes across a German patrol, where Mills's reaction is powerful in showing really all the PTSD within the man as he in all fear drives to drive away from the German and truly becomes a man petrified in his fear. With Mills being wholly convincing in revealing just what the man has been putting away with drink for this time. Of course this is contrasting suddenly when they stop Quayle showing his Captain taking charge with such ease and manner as he claims to speak German, even passively claiming that the Germans wouldn't have shot at them, which fatally wounded Denise, if Anson hadn't tried to run.

After two close calls with the Germans, where Quayle's character somehow talks them out of capture each time, the film becomes fully a survival tale as the remaining disparate four need to try to make their way through the desert. And again, these performers are great in crafting this dynamic between them. Mills portrays so effectively the arc of the man just barely hanging on at times, and we see the pouring of guilt when he believes he might've cost a life in his panicking as he confides in Diane. His vulnerability is so potent and powerful, while also showing what it is that the man needs to overcome to get his crew back home safely. Andrews is the safety factor of it all, and again I love just how different he is here. He's just this warm bath of sunshine in such a convincing way. You sense in every interaction the care of the man for others. His eyes denote the great emotional intelligence of the man, as empathy just exudes from every moment. I love that even in a scene where he goes to spy on Quayle's character to see what secret the man may be hiding from the others, Andrews even portrays this with more curiosity than complete suspicion. Andrews even delivering the words that accuse the man of being false, Andrews is able to capture it as concern, rather distaste still and always shows his Pugh to really be the best sort of man at every turn in such a convincing way. And then there's Quayle, who gives a performance that is in itself just fascinating to watch in everything he does. Quayle portrays sort of this ideal combination between the man with this disarming pseudo friendly manner that also cuts into the other's confidence at the same time. He seems calm, yet at other moments Quayle denotes a certain fear and suspicion in others as the Captain always insists on going off with his kit, and shovel on his own. 

Where the film is unquestionably a true ensemble within how each actor portrays the survival elements of the story. You feel the heat, you feel the drought, you feel the burden as each actor portrays the weight of the situation on them. And that the exasperation of every set back, but also the glee of every success is powerfully felt within each actor. However no actor more powerfully realizes these survival scenes than Quayle. In particular one scene where they are making repairs on the truck and the South African Captain is under the truck, eventually holding up the truck partially as they try to fix it. The whole sequence is frankly amazing, and really kind of a modern scene in terms of the use of editing and slow motion at times, but also the visceral greatness of Quayle's performance. You feel the tension, you feel his pain, you feel every moment of the danger in his performance. But if that wasn't enough, there's two scenes of the ilk that are specific physical scenes of performance. The second SPOILERS stems from the other trio figuring that he is likely a spy for the Germans, one being his ease of getting them away from the Germans, but also his tendency to go alone with his pack he doesn't let the others see, that is eventually revealed to be a radio where he has been checking in. The trio rather than expose him, instead lead him into a mud trap to force him to lose his radio, though then go about rescuing him from the pit. Quayle again is great in revealing the simple horror of being stuck in the mud pit as he's slowly sinking into it, and struggles to survive as the others do attempt to help him. Again Quayle makes the situation feel entirely real, and is essential to the sequence. As much as the character of the duplicitous Captain should be villainous, thanks to the excellent script and Quayle's performance he's so much more than that, as he becomes one of the people just trying to survive this ordeal. 

Eventually we find the group trying to find one seemingly insurmountable hill to overcome it. And each fills their roles, and each performer does the same. Quayle again is great because where the character's intentions seem often so mysterious where he is straightforward is when we see his conviction in going about helping the others. Andrews again is ever the reliable one as Pugh and even as others get tense, I love the modest affirming qualities of Andrews work. Even when he loses a bit of heart, Andrews projects the sadness more so for concern of the other's well being and so naturally makes Pugh this sincere force for good. Mills on the other hand is all over the place, but in the right way. As he shows kind of a breaking point, that is also the man at perhaps his best, as he shows the man pushing everyone to help getting up being the motivator, but doing it in a way that is near mania in the push. What Mills thought emphasizes though is the lack of fear now, even if definitely having moments of frustration, we see the passionate conviction of the man, the power even as he pushes all the men to keep going. And as a group, you honestly get caught up in every moment of defeat but also success, because of the strength of these performances and how they work off one another. The actors build towards and earn the ending of the film, which is building towards, well an, "ice cold" lager in Alex. And I think this is where most films I would object to the idea of the man who is taken to drink getting the reward of a drink by the end of the film. And I think maybe I would even as written if it were not for Mills's performance. Because Mills takes the moment of reaching the bar, and even before the drink, it is no longer with desperate need, but rather this calm specific satisfaction of a man, quenching his thirst rather than drowning his sorrows. He earns this transition. Speaking of transitions, we have one left bit of business as the three decide to expose Quayle's Captain as a Nazi, but not as a Nazi spy, to avoid a death sentence. And again, earned just in the chemistry you sense between the actors that you understand as a proper unit has been through hell, and in each interaction you sense the warmth between all of them. To the point that Quayle's manner is just as one of them loving the moment of victory together, before they all quietly let him know they're going to expose him, though in the safest way possible for him. Quayle's reaction to this dynamite as he instantly captures the immediate surprise and realization of the man, the calculation, before accepting their choice. Quayle now switched to a German accent, and a changed man, though one would like to think it was more the journey than just revealing his real accent. And Quayle's final moment of thanking the crew and accepting them as more than the enemy is beautifully done because he delivers it so modestly, accentuating the man having now lost his pompous disregard and learned from his experience. Every performance here is terrific in this film, all four, Andrews again being a constant as the always caring right hand man, Quayle being absolutely dynamic and showing off a range I wasn't fully aware of, and Mills giving his very best performance by vividly realizing both the weakness and strength of his character in every moment. 

(Andrews)

(Quayle)

(Mills)

Alternate Best Actor 1958: Danny Kaye in Me and the Colonel

Danny Kaye did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning the Golden Globe, for portraying Samuel L. Jacobowsky in Me and the Colonel. 

Me and the Colonel, is not a flawless, but overall an effective comedic thriller about a Jewish Polish refugee escaping the Nazis along with an antisemitic Polish officer (Curd Jürgens). 

What makes the film IS Danny Kaye, an actor I don't think I've given enough credit to it seems, and perhaps should seek out more of his work, because as much as I got a kick out of him in The Court Jester, this performance here suggests a greater talent than was already on display there. This is against type, though not entirely against genre for Kaye. In that so much of this has the elements of a dramatic performance and it is a dramatic performance in many ways. Kaye doesn't play the Kaye persona of the hapless, though likable, hero, but rather very specifically this Jewish man trying to escape the Nazis with his life intact during World War II. Kaye purposefully reduces his physical manner into a much quiet quality of a man who modestly makes his way through life. it isn't a put on though it is just something you wholly believe. Kaye's accent work is subtle, but terrific in just helping to establish this man, while also successfully taking you away from the expected Kaye. You believe Kaye as this Jewish man who had quietly been living in Europe before he had to flee. He is just Samuel L. Jacobowsky, and with such a specific presence that is like Kaye's, that is an impressive achievement all on its own. 

Kaye's performance is kind of a challenge though in already readjusting himself to be a different man than you know him for, there's more than just the surface of the man. Kaye's eyes are not the eyes of the hapless hero, but rather the man who has been through much. Early in the film he discusses having gone from one place to another to escape persecution, and only found in each situation that he had to run to escape the Nazis. There is a genuine quiet sadness in Kaye's eyes that speaks to the struggle he's been through, even as he delivers this speech with a certain comedic undercurrent of someone who can't quite believe the situation he's found himself in. And that is the true brilliance of this performance. Kaye clearly before this film was someone who knew how to be funny in such a big way, with his patter songs, and just his outgoing energy that is larger than life. This is a subversion of that even though it is so specifically connected to that idea, but Kaye reworks it to be down to earth, yet still so endearing and often so funny. Because what Kaye does instead of portraying a man who exists in a comical world, in an overtly comical way, he shows instead a man who deals with the real world, and is in the real world, but treats it as a comedy. 

Kaye's portrayal of Samuel is with a wry wit, and switches in form, as someone who sees the world as it is, and can't help but laugh a little at his predicament. Kaye is pitch perfect in the way he works the tone because his performance is very amusing, but it is specifically with this quiet observational manner of someone who sees the absurdities of the world and merely points them out. He's not absurd, rather in some ways he's the one thing who is not, but he sees the world for the absurdity it is. And Kaye masters this approach in just being able to cut through every scene by making every line of Samuel's this sharp knife of wisdom that often are comedic, but also always feel absolutely honest to this man's nature. His observations throughout make him so endearing because you see the wisdom in the words right along with the humor of the specific observation each time. Kaye is just so natural in making this lower key comedy just work with such ease. And it is this ideal he achieves because he's comic without comical, and he's also kind of dramatic without being dramatic. He's both and neither, and just is wonderful I think is probably the best way to put it. 

Now the film works because of Kaye, if it wasn't for Kaye, and there was just a slightly less deft performance in the role, the film would fall flat because Jürgens is so inconsistent in his performance, that swings between okay dramatic moments and completely over the top moments, that it would've been easy to lose the stakes, or seem almost too perfunctory in its execution. Kaye though comes in with this unique hero brought to life by his talents. We follow him as Kaye gets to do so much, while still being reserved. In that Samuel is extremely intelligent, and while he won't be violent to win, he can use his mind to find things he needs to keep going. And Kaye brings to life this keen eye in every moment and the sense of the man who thinks through his situation and finds the work around. One such way is through his charm, where Kaye is so naturally sweet in the role, that you believe him in conning out a resource, or winning over the love interest of both men, a French local Suzanne (Nicole Maurey). In both instances, Kaye doesn't ever force a moment, he rather glides, and you believe the ease of the glide in Kaye's hands. He convinces you of the change in the relationship with the Colonel, more so than his co-star, because Kaye's sincerity, even when often showing how dumb the Colonel is in his comments, is impossible to resist. Yet even more than that, when the film builds its tensions towards the end, and it seems like both men might be caught by the Nazis, Kaye alters his performance just enough and just again so naturally, to convey the rise in tension as the sense of possible real loss comes within his eyes. This is fantastic work from Danny Kaye, that suggests maybe we just skimmed the surface of his talents, or at least maybe I have. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1958: Gunnar Björnstrand in The Magician

Gunnar Björnstrand did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Dr. Vergerus in The Magician. 

Frequent Bergman collaborator Gunnar Björnstrand plays the pivotal role, essentially the plot driving role, of Dr. Vergerus who is the minister of health whose intention is to investigate a theater troupe who claim to have supernatural abilities. Björnstrand's performance cuts through the film in his first scene where he is part of the inquest into the troupe. Björnstrand is commanding through the confidence of his demeanor, Björnstrand wielding a certain power of his intention as a man who is quite clear in his disbelief of the group. Björnstrand brings this certain self-satisfied humorous bent in his delivery. Björnstrand bemuses himself a bit with every line showing just how little the doctor perceives the group to himself. He's exuding disrespect, however Björnstrand is careful to emphasize the intelligence of the character. His manner and delivery is that of insight and of attack. Björnstrand even looks over the titular magician Dr. Vogler (Max von Sydow) physically as a doctor would with specific intention, but then in an instance showing his casual dismissal when he found no medical reason for the magician's claims of muteness. Björnstrand is captivating in this scene crafting real drama over every question and forcing the troupe to open themselves up to his questioning. Björnstrand creates with ease the ideal "antagonist" of sorts, setting up the man who seemingly cannot be tricked by this group and sees them as unquestionably below him in their claims. 

Dr. Vergerus's methods go beyond merely uncovering the lies of the troupe but seemingly breaking apart their very foundation, as we see in a later scene where he goes about asking questions late at night to Vogler's wife Manda (Ingrid Thulin), who is typically dressed as a man, however in the night removes this facade. Björnstrand is terrific in the scene of asking her more questions by portraying the whole scene with the obvious intention in his eyes and baited breath that the Dr. is obviously more than a little intrigued by the woman physically at the very least. Björnstrand becomes a hectoring villain in the moment as making this clear but his delivery towards her is still with constant attacks towards her existence and particularly to the husband's existence. Björnstrand though takes this moment further releasing a bit more direct passion beyond his confident disregard where the doctor reveals his lack of belief in anything other than reality, which where we see a bit more of seething venom in his voice. And Björnstrand reveals that this is more than just to prove them false, it is personal, and he makes it personal as his overtures towards Vogler's wife are directed with more than just flirtation. Leading eventually to Vogler physically manhandling Vergerus, and Björnstrand's portrayal is pitch perfect in his reaction showing the put down fear hidden by his pompous glee at seeing how his methods have gotten the mute magician to resort to physical violence.

The conflict reaches its climax as the troupe gives their performance, seemingly ending with the death of Vogler, to which Vergerus will perform the autopsy alone in a dark room. And suddenly the film turns towards Vergerus's perspective as essentially the "mark" fully for Vogler, as he faces a series of seemingly the supernatural as he attempts to go about his duty. Björnstrand is excellent in this scene by showing the doctor losing his confidence suddenly and now just being a man who must face potential supernatural all alone. There is a real power just in the complete change in the man who is now alone and without any sense of command to the situation. Björnstrand being incredibly effective by playing the doctor now as very much human who can be scared of the immediately unexplainable as eerie things begin to happen around him. Björnstrand portrays each moment of the doctor as he begins to silently exhibit doubt as one bit of haunting after another occurs around him. Björnstrand powerfully, presenting this attempt at the man trying to hold it together yet with each new element of the haunting, reacts naturally as a man being gripped in fear as each event becomes more intense. Björnstrand along with Bergman, and a bit Sydow, building the tension magnificently, and Björnstrand wholly earning this transformation of the completely confident non-believer being terrified by seemingly a resurrected corpse in front of him. When the truth is revealed as it being an elaborate ruse, Björnstrand closes his performance effectively by crafting a balance between the aggressively confident man before, now with a bit of bitterness for the trick, but he brings just enough modesty to his work to show that as much as Vergerus wouldn't like to admit he did learn something from it all. For my measure, this is film is at its best whenever Björnstrand is onscreen, as it then when the film focuses on its most compelling element, of this battle of the mind between the charlatan and skeptic.