Alternate Best Actor 2012: Paul Dano in Ruby Sparks

Paul Dano did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Calvin Weir-Fields in Ruby Sparks. 

Ruby Sparks falls into another film where my tendency not to pre-read synopsis strikes again, as just a glance at the poster, I thought it was your typical two quirky people meet Indie film, but instead it's about a writer inventing said dream quirky woman. 

Paul Dano plays the writer, and it is rare that Dano isn't playing a character with some degree of neurosis. So he seems fitting enough in this role as he just brings that type of energy. A bit different here though is that Dano's character isn't suffering some truly extreme psychological insanity, he's rather a writer suffering writer's block is a bit too isolated. Dano though is effective in playing this lighter note, in again bringing that expected energy of someone always just slightly on edge with his emotions, and never quite seemingly comfortable within himself. Dano's work is a nice modulation of his expected presence here in playing the slight riff to this kind of character. He has an ease at unease, and manages to make it less heavy than usual in a way that does make Calvin likable, enough, when it would've been easy to be too much with his eccentricity, or just too little to the point of blandness. Dano hits the right balance in giving us the starting point of his romantic lead, which is a bit more straightforward than many Dano roles, but also properly distinguishes himself as a somewhat atypical romantic lead, if still very much within that kind of genre. 

Eventually the turn to establish the film's intention comes in when he becomes inspired to write about a woman meeting his dog, who has all her own little bit of written business. Where we first meet his creation of Ruby (Zoe Kazan), who comes on strong in about every regard as the pseudo dream woman. And here you see the chemistry between Dano and Kazan, which is considerable between the two, and being real life partners actually is not a guarantee of onscreen chemistry however in this case the two have it in spades. And what I think works the most in terms of that is actually what it changes in Dano in their interactions, which when truly romantic with one another, Dano's neurosis becomes more limited. There's a greater ease to Dano's performance and it comes together to create the sense of connection between the two by the way we see his Calvin suddenly become more comfortable in general. Of course things get complicated when the real supernatural turn comes, as not only does he create the character in his mind Ruby comes to life in reality, where everyone can see her. This is where the film switches more than a bit to absurdity though played with a certain sensibility of someone trying to deal with the unbelievable with some kind of reality. 

We get this phase of the film where Dano gets to briefly play the note of the comedic surprise of the situation, particularly when he is interacting with his brother (Chris Messina, who is playing the "best friend" romcom trope to quite the extreme himself). And we get a bit of well tuned mania in his performance that works in just conveying the mix of surprise, disbelief but also a kind of wonder as he discovers his invented woman in reality. Then the film hits, for me, its snag as it doesn't quite know fully where to go with the idea, as we enter the relationship going into the doldrums as he goes to visit his eccentric mom and eccentric boyfriend, and she becomes less dependent on him. All of this is all okay, but not quite as remarkable as it seemingly could be. Dano himself has to go through the motions a bit, particularly in the parents scene of being just slightly annoyed. Then as Ruby becomes more independent, his frustrations are also portrayed convincingly, particularly the darker streak as we see him become jealous and truly unable to deal with her behaviors. And the film quickly though runs him to the extreme of continuing to write and change her, to giving her up all in one long sequence. One long sequence which in terms of Dano's emotions he does effectively portray the shifting frustration, to fear, to mania, to a kind of sad contentment, but I would be wrong to say that it doesn't feel a touch rushed. And the move to Calvin becoming enlightened, isn't something that I think the film entirely earns, though Dano gives his best efforts to be sure. And this is a good performance from Paul Dano, however one that I don't think quite carries the impact of his best work. But as a mostly lighter fair, it is largely effective work albeit a bit held back by the certain limitations of the film. 

Alternate Best Actor 1991: Utpal Dutt in Agantuk

Utpal Dutt did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying the titular character in Agantuk. 

Agantuk follows a husband and wife, as they receive the wife's long lost uncle, who they aren't sure if he's genuinely her uncle or a stranger there to steal her inheritance. 

As a final send off for Satyajit Ray, this is a very modest, but potent film where essentially we are doing variation on the idea of what exactly bridges the gap between family and strangers. This is personified by Utpal Dutt's titular character, who is the uncle/stranger, who comes into their lives, and creates seeming upheaval as they can't quite be sure if he's the truth or not. Dutt's performance then is essential to creating this mystery of sorts to the film, as the man who could be or could not be who he says he is. Dutt's performance is remarkable in the way he carries himself with this quiet dignity that also is that of an enigma. Dutt importantly plays the part with this sense of knowing in his eyes, about the suspicions of the family, even if he doesn't exactly let on either to completely ease their suspicions. What the man does do though is immediately begin to reveal his great ability for storytelling. Dutt is wonderful in the delivery of his first story with this delivery but also a way of almost looking into the memory as something he is experiencing in the moment. It is difficult to not get caught up with the story yourself as Dutt articulates the memory so authentically as this undisputed truth, that is also filled with a particular style and character that helps to define the man. 

Where the man seems to be less of a mystery is in his interactions with his nephew. Where Dutt brings such an enormous amount of warmth in his performance. There's such a generosity of spirit that seems to exude off of the man as he speaks to his nephew. Dutt is just lovely in these moments in creating the bond, which again he implements through his stories and even just a teaching lesson when he speaks to his nephew and friends about celestial bodies. Dutt suddenly makes the stranger the most wonderful teacher, where he delivers with this exact sense of knowledge, but more importantly the moments he accentuates creates this intrigue. Dutt very much gives a performance as the stranger giving the performance, where he makes the learning not only fun, but creates the sense of connection between uncle and nephew through this experience. And we see this consistently where Dutt brings such a sense of life in each of these interactions. Where Dutt's performance isn't that he shows the nephew brightly shining from the manner of his supposed uncle, but also via Dutt's performance where he brings this particularly important sense of the appreciation the stranger gets from every moment he can entertain and connect to his supposed nephew. 

Still unconvinced, particularly by the husband, we see a series of pseudo interrogators brought in by him to try to decipher the stranger's intention. And these scenes are wonderful "interrogations", where the first one, the man just seems charmed by this man who has these stories from all around the world. And it is easy to find this completely convincing because it is hard not to be charmed by Dutt yourself as he details his view of Calcutta as civilized, or just explaining how the homeless present themselves in New York, it is hard not to get drawn into his calm way of sharing his experiences. But even when barely remembering Pele, which would cause one to think perhaps he's lying about being in South America, Dutt even then is entirely winning in his joking way of noting his complete ignorance of football past a certain geographic area. Dutt disarms with such ease that it becomes impossible to seemingly disbelieve him as just a wonderful man with much history, at least as he runs circles around the first interrogator. The last interrogator is far more intense and far more intended on trying to uncover this man as some liar than reveal a definite truth. And here is where Dutt once again excels here though now with more conflict as the man doesn't just listen to him, but rather constantly challenges him with far more incisiveness than just telling him that someone should know about Pele. A conversation that isn't as much about just who he is, but also the very nature of his philosophy where he has appreciation for traditional cultures as much as he is a man of modern cultures as well. 

Dutt is magnificent in the monologue explaining this appreciation is amazing work, as there is such articulate passion he brings, that so clearly and concisely reasons the man's worldview that while still in conflict, feels just beautifully spoken in every word. When speaking for example on the difference between using a gun to brutally murder many against cannibalism, Dutt's wrapping of the terms of barbarism is almost music in the ease in which he speaks this difficult contrast, and again shows such honest emotion in revealing the very real passions within the man. And what all this reveals is this isn't really a film about a mystery of whether or not the man is this uncle, rather it is merely the story of the discovery of all this man of the world has to offer, and just presenting his unique perspective of the world, while also connecting with who are his family still after all this time. Dutt, who sadly passed away not much later than Ray himself, is essential to the success of this film. Because it is more or less, a series of conversations, nearly monologues in rooms, and the film is a success. One being the words are written brilliantly by Ray as he is able to explore so much with this conceit, but as important is Dutt's flawless delivery of every one of these. Every single one that creates not only a sense of who this "stranger" is, but even more so he makes every story, every philosophical thought, every warm connection with the family, absolutely captivating, pointed, or poignant within his performance. Dutt delivers a truly great performance which does more than make the most of the concept, it gives its essential life, in creating a most fascinating portrait of a most idiosyncratic man. 

Best Actor Backlog Volume 5

And the Overlooked Performances Are:

Eric Bogosian in Talk Radio

 

Utpal Dutt in Agantuk 

 

Laurence Fishburne in Deep Cover 

 

Paul Dano in Ruby Sparks

 

Leland Orser in Faults

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1932: Leslie Howard in Smilin' Through & Results

Leslie Howard did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Sir John Carteret in Smilin' Through.

Smilin' Through is your romantic melodrama about lovers Kathleen and Kenneth (Norma Shearer, Fredric March) divided by WWI and the wounds of family history.

Leslie Howard was a little curious of an actor of the period, as typically one was a leading man or not, but he was going from leading to a supporting role from film to film. Here Howard plays the rare substantial supporting role in this film for the period. The substantial supporting role, in that the film actually opens with his character, older, where he is standing watch over the grave of his wife Moonyean (also Shearer). Howard's performance, despite not really adjusting his voice, is surprisingly convincing in his physical manner in the past in presenting just the age of the man. Howard's movements are slower and just his natural manner has this weight about him in age. What is wonderful though is how much hope that Howard brings as he also expresses  the dismay of the character. In his eyes there is this innate sadness about the man, even as when he's called upon to do anything, there's an unquestioned life to him. Howard establishes, without it needing to be said yet, the tragedy of the man, as he always suffers from his loss, but the man's innate being is not to wallow in the pain. Howard creates the sense of a man very much anchored to the past, even if it doesn't fully weigh him into nothingness. And we see what the man still has in him as he's presented with his child niece Kathleen, who is coming to live with him, and well Howard is just so charming. But he's charming in such an easy way as he invites the child to live with him, as there's kind of a somber quality there still, but his expressions are the man living with that however letting his natural warmth be the best of him instead as he goes about making Kathleen feel as welcome as can be.

We jump in time of course as Kathleen grows up to be Shearer, but we continue to see from Howard just such a loving performance from him. He exudes that sense of affection out of every element of his performance, and you are granted the immediate sense of this uncle who seemingly wants only what is best for his niece. Unfortunately things get complicated quickly when an American Kenneth appears in the old house of his father, and makes his way about charming and romancing Kathleen. And there we have the two sides of the man where Howard brings that quiet sense of assurance and love towards Kathleen as a given, until she reveals that the man is Kenneth Wayne, the son of the man who killed Carteret's wife on the day of their wedding. We first flashback where we get Howard to briefly get to be the romantic lead, and he is naturally charming in portraying the unabashed sense of love with his wife. And again Howard shows this loving man is the innate nature, and is moving in the reaction of immediate anguish when Moonyean is murdered in front him. And we understand Carteret's feelings towards the whole Wayne family including this new Wayne, where Carteret is instantly horrified at the prospect of Kathleen having anything to do with him. I think this is where the challenge of the performance truly is, though I was impressed by Howard's quietly warm and charming work before this point. Because it is easy to play into the melodrama in a way that accentuates the less believable aspects of the plot point rather than make it convincing despite being a fairly over the top concept. This is where Howard shines because of the way he presents the bitterness and stubbornness of Cartlett. The dominant emotion Howard presents in his performance is the sorrow within the man, as his expression is always looking inward, usually not facing who is talking to, and almost shows the man always looking to the grave of his wife in a way in this situation. When speaking about Howard is blunt in his delivery in his bitterness, but there is always the sense that it is coming from the pain of the loss of his old love more than even hate for the man who wronged him so deeply. Because of this, Howard is far more dynamic as the "angry old man", by showing very convincingly where he's coming from, granting understanding to it, being less of an obstacle to the central romance, but rather being a character in his own right. Howard by creating this basis for the behavior then wholly earns the change of heart of Carteret when he sees that Kenneth is willing to sacrifice his happiness for Kathleen's, and ends up encouraging the romance. Howard's work again is wonderful in showing less the warmth coming back, but rather just the bitterness fading away so gently to show the warmth was always still there all the time. Creating a moving depiction of the man changing his mind, because the sudden shift feels so natural because of how motivated Howard made every moment of it. And that might've been my favorite moment, if he didn't have his final scene where he's visited by the spirit of his wife, who had also visited him in the opening of the film, where Carteret mentions his mistakes. I love Howard's quiet self-deprecation of the man's uneasiness, but also sense of hope in giving it all up. But more so, as much as it wasn't the focus of the film, he once again has wonderful easy chemistry with Shearer in the moment, and ties such a heartfelt bow at the end of this story.

Updated Overall

Next: Backlog Volume 5 and feel free to give your recommendations. 

Alternate Best Actor 1932: Michel Simon in Boudu Saved from Drowning

Michel Simon did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying the titular character of Boudu Saved From Drowning. 

Boudu follows the interactions between a hobo and the family whose patriarch saved the man from drowning. 

Now with that brief synopsis you may be thinking this is some heartwarming story about the rich and poor coming together, and learning from each other. Well you'd be dead wrong, as it is a film by Jean Renoir after all who wasn't typically about the easiest answers. Rather this is a social satire personified most in the character of Boudu, who you may think is one thing in the opening scenes of the film, however again you'd be dead wrong. As the idiosyncratic Michel Simon, who at the very least always stood out as a screen presence no matter where or when he showed up by the sheer one of a kind nature of his face, first appears as a hobo we see lounging around a park. And while there seems the innate sympathy to be created as his dog runs away after he tells the dog to leave him alone while he's eating, even how he reacts isn't quite what you'd expect. It is though the one moment where his character seems even in mild distress as he asks a policeman if he's seen his dog, only to be aggressively scared away lest he be arrested. What speaks more to the character is Simon sitting on a park bench, seemingly somewhat dejected, until a young girl, prompted by his mother, gives him money for a meal. Simon's reaction to this is of a cold confusion and even annoyance and not at all a loving man you might expect. And we see his Boudu almost immediately give away the food to a random mean with a callous sort of anger before going off to jump in the river, seemingly to commit suicide. His attempt is prevented by the wealthy man Edouard Lestingois (Charles Granval) who saves him from drowning and takes him into his home with his wife Emma (Marcelle Hainia) and his maid Chloe (Severine Lerczinska), whom Edouard also is having an affair with. 

The man being taken into the home is where the film begins and Simon's performance becomes the center of the film as this man exists outside of his world now living in the confined space of the rich. And while one might again presume this instead will be about how cruel and careless the rich are, that really isn't the case either as Boudu along with Simon's portrayal, is that of a man of chaos. Simon's physical performance is brilliant because everything he does paints a man essentially out of sorts with everything around him. Although what is so remarkable is how Simon embodies this into every aspect of his work, not just one. His face expresses a constant kind of discomfort, or a nasty sort of dismay. His chest seems always too tight within his now fancier clothes, his way of walking about the house even has an awkwardness as he almost kicks every step, likely a child bored but it doesn't really end there. Simon's constantly doing something physically, and it is captivating because every choice further illustrates the nature of Boudu in this situation. There's weird moments quite frankly of him even sitting between a door frame, which is amazing work by Simon because it feels so natural within his performance, though not natural within the setting. Every glance towards his rich host, every random spit, there is something so uniquely eye-catching about what Simon does, that makes him not just out of place, but actively trying to almost destroy the sense of place. And there really is the key to this performance, and the story as a whole. As this is not the case of the rich mistreating the poor, though there is certainly a disconnect, rather it is this story of a chaotic force being introduced into the tightly ordered constructed society of the house. 

Simon does not make you want to like Boudu, in fact you might find him as deplorable as the rich family does at certain points, though equally so, Simon does make there just something so captivating about the man even in his strangeness. Boudu spits randomly in the house, and scoffs at any redirection. He acts lustful towards both the wife and maid, which only exacerbates after he shaves his large beard. Simon's performance is piercing in its aggressiveness, of the man who constantly pesters and prods rather than enjoys. The man is incapable of existing in this more structured state, and Simon portrays a vicious disregard for all that he sees. There is something very specific within the performance though that makes him not exactly hateful with any sense for cause or passion, he's not some true anarchist or hippie breakdown the confines of society. Boudu is Boudu, who is a man who strives to exist within his world, his way with disregard for anyone or anything that gets in his way. Simon's performance brings to life this sense of the unwieldy, animalistic and callous. He never makes you care about Boudu, but he does make him so idiosyncratic in his state as a man that it becomes difficult to not watch him. In a way what his Boudu is, is like Laurel and Hardy, or Chaplin, as the men who are so unlikely themselves that it causes intense friction if not explosion against the society they are within. The difference though is Boudu's not comical, at least not in an overt charming way, and his behaviors always reeks of intention in his actions and is not accidental in his nonconformity. There isn't some secret that makes him who he is, there is some great change, even as he visually changes throughout, he is who he is and always is that, as this agent of individualistic chaos against everything that isn't his exact existence. A strange idea, that is realized effortlessly by Simon, who doesn't charm you or entertain you really, but rather he just fascinates you. 

Alternate Best Actor 1932: Charles Laughton in Island of Lost Souls

Charles Laughton did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Dr. Moreau in Island of Lost Souls. 

The Island of Lost Soul tells the tale of a man happening onto the island of a mad doctor who lives in and around a strange hybrid of animals and men. 

As seemed to be the requirement of many of the horror films of the period, it wouldn't be true to the period if the main lead wasn't better named Blandy McBland with a similarly bland love interest, where the film must be saved by a better actor in the juicier part of someone at least responsible for the horror in some way. Charles Laughton obviously was and became known as one of the very best actors of his generation, so naturally he's more than up to the task. Laughton first appears as the man is dumped on a remote stop by an amoral Captain, and Laughton's initial reaction is just quiet frustration of a man who wants nothing to do with outsiders. Unfortunately the man is left and he becomes the doctor's problem. Laughton is working on a whole different level here as well, in portraying such ease in his performance and even more importantly a charisma even in playing obviously a villainous role. Laughton though is charming in his approach, as when he sees he's stuck with the man, Laughton presents himself with a generous enough spirit of the welcoming host, if more than a bit cautious in terms of sharing the whole of the story of his island. An island populated with near feral animal-men who live outside the gates of the Doctor's home, whom the doctor warns his guest against, though with glances by Laughton that immediately share a knowledge of the situation that goes far beyond simple concern. Laughton presents a man who is very much complicit in these creatures, and is just wonderful to watch as he acts out this part. 

Laughton knows how to make exposition in itself natural within his performance, but even more importantly knows how to make it entertaining. Laughton has a wonderful style because he presents his doctor as someone who perhaps was respectable at one time, and in terms of his whole manner treats himself as though everything he is doing is respectable. He speaks with a quiet authority and absolute intelligence as he makes suggestions to his guest, and even convinces his more moral assistant that the man could stay for something that the doctor is working on. The doctor envisioned some experiment to use the new guest as, by introducing him to the Panther Woman, also a beast-human hybrid, however for a greater emphasis on the human side, and essentially wants to test her out via pairing her with the man. Laughton is brilliant in the way he delivers this plan with a complete lack of shame, and even more than that some grand pride in every delivery. A man whose eyes denote this idea with a keen sense of what he thinks should be done. When the attempted experiment begins, Laughton takes it a step further though by showing beneath the veneer of the egotist mixed in with the English charm is obviously just a creepy man living out his fantasies. Laughton brings more than just a glint in his eyes as he watches the two proceed with more than a hint of lust, and Laughton performs the note beautifully in revealing the grand designs of the man that have nothing to do with simple scientific curiosities, let alone noble ones. 

Meanwhile while he enacts his attempts to entice the visitor with the panther woman, Moreau frequently reveals his most obvious nature through his interactions and dismissals of his other "experiments" aka the native populations. A key line that essentially echoes Dr. Frankenstein's line in the 1931 films about feeling what it is like to be God, is more or less spoken by Moreau in this film. Where it was that of mania with Colin Clive's performance, Laughton is that of calm assurance, the insanity is in the glint of his eyes, however Laughton presents it as a man well controlled in his insanity. And we see that as he dictates over his "people" with his calm assurance, yet with an unmistakable internalized intensity for genuine violence. In each instance where the islanders begin to act too animalistic Moreau with a whip, and occasionally some support from Bela Lugosi as one of the creatures, however Laughton presents each as the lion tamer, and the brutal dictator as he insists they follow his rules lest they suffer more pain at his hands. Laughton brings the diabolical sneer of a proper villain who is lording over these creatures as part of an extension of his ego, and portrays the madness of his character even though the man is capable of presenting it all as for the sake of scientific curiosity. But what all this adds up to more importantly than anything, is an entertaining villainous performance, where Laughton simply shines every moment he is on screen. Whenever Moreau is onscreen, the film is working, because Laughton is so engaging. But more than that, while this adaptation purposefully leans closer to the horror aspects of the story than the philosophical, whatever depth can be mined within the screenplay is found by Laughton, as while being enjoyable to watch, he does find an actual character here with greater notions to his evil, even if the film is only slightly interested in that. 

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.

Alternate Best Actor 1958: Results

5. Youssef Chahine in Cairo Station - A reasonably fine performance that is a bit repetitive but shows a bit more depth later on. 

Best Scene: Nearly caught. 

4. Max von Sydow in The Magician - A purposefully limited performance however he does grant a strong presence as to be expected while also successfully subverting that as well. 

Best Scene: The performance. 

3. Gustaw Holoubek in The Noose - A striking portrayal of just a man being stuck in an emotional hole that he fails to crawl out of again and again. 

Best Scene: Making the decision. 

2. Gary Cooper in Man of the West - Cooper's best performance, that delivers a gravitas, but also a real genuine intensity in portraying a man not of the west, but essentially fed up with the west. 

Best Scene: Ghost town.  

1. Chhabi Biswas in Jalsaghar - Biswas gives a powerful and complex portrayal of a man who gradually gives more and more into his delusions. 

Best Scene: Admiring the portraits. 

Updated Overall

Next:  Reviews of Anthony Quayle & Gunnar Björnstrand

Alternate Best Actor 1958: Gustaw Holoubek in The Noose

Gustaw Holoubek did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Kuba Kowalski in The Noose. 

The Noose tells the day in the life of an alcoholic. 

Gustaw Holoubek portrays the man who is in a dingy room, and his performance begins as a man quietly despondent as his girlfriend comforts him, telling him she'll be back in at the end of the day. Holoubek's performance wears the history of the man on his face. A man who would be seemingly in a prison of his own as this room is filled only with his own living hell in his way. A kind of Lost Weekend we have here, though shortened in time, and the character of Kowalski is a bit different than Milland's Don Birnam in that film. And I would say the character on the whole is more passive than in that film, even if their life is very similar in going around different areas, often seedy, with their only "solace" being their drink. And Holoubek's performance is much about what isn't said, and often doesn't speak in moments, or at least isn't the first to speak. When he most often speaks is in narration of his thoughts which is that of a near moaning, droning speech of a man who is mired in his existence. 

Where Holoubek's performance excels is creating this state of the man as particularly tangible and even though we don't immediately know everything about him, there is so much that appears to be said by him just in the innate state within his expression. He's suffering even when he isn't as open in his pain. His resting expression is that of exasperation and of a man who has been trudging through his life for some time. We are granted clues, such as his conversation with another woman when he goes out, who seems to speak to him with some sense of affection for him. However that is what breaks his composure more than anything, and that breaks a sharp inflamed anger of a man without comfort. The idea of it seems the opposite and Holoubek's performance displays this kind of paranoia towards the idea of happiness. A suspicion that is immediate in his voice and his eyes of a man who cannot accept seemingly anything that doesn't support the more nihilistic worldview. 

Where we see the man seems to seek more quickly is finding pain, whether that be in the violence of confronting local police. Holoubek doesn't portray a man with any particular stand rather this wretched emotional devastation of man whose violence is strangely without passion, rather it is a depressed anguished state. We see him converse with another alcoholic, where Holoubek's moments of the conversation as much as its giving into his vice, we see this strange ease of the behavior as he takes the drinks in as though they are his medicine. However even this again leads to violence as the conversation turns sour and again Holoubek's performance crafts this unpleasantness of a man who gives into pain and almost seems to strangely seek it. When even being attacked himself, stolen from, there is no objection, just a strange acceptance. 

And what this all leads to is the lonely path back to his room, despite some small promise of something for him, Holoubek presents instead the seething depression as the man speaks to his existence as one unpleasant state after another. Every delivery of his having this accentuation on the negative and his eyes begin to fill more with overt anxiety than before. We have instead this process of essentially a man choosing suicide rather than existence in his state any longer. And what Holoubek's performance does is present the unfortunate and terrible mindset of a man to make this decision. In the moment of the act, choosing to create his noose and ready it, even when there seems to be some hope on the way, Holoubek's eyes fill with mania but also the intention before his tragic action. Holoubek delivers a striking portrayal of an alcoholic here, creating even if seemingly as an often passive character, this state of the depression and the exhaustion of a man. This state that penetrates and acts almost as the reflection of the existence around him, a portrait of decay both inwardly and outwardly all at once. 

Alternate Best Actor 1958: Toshiro Mifune in The Rickshaw Man

Toshiro Mifune did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Matsugoro the titular character in The Rickshaw Man. 

I guess with Mifune my work is never done, which is fine by me since, as you might've gathered at this point, I'm a big fan. Mifune's performance here is a bit of an oddity, though not that his performance is odd in any way, but it feels wholly different from any other Mifune performance, while being entirely a performance by Mifune. To explain. Mifune is a performer who always physically just exudes some kind of command of some sort, even when unwieldy as in the case of Seven Samurai as the most haphazard warrior there's still such a power to him. Mifune here almost physically seems different from any of his other performances, because what Mifune portrays is kind of normalcy, which is kind of fascinating in itself. Take one of the earliest scenes for Mifune's titular Rickshaw Man faces down a man in a pseudo combat, only resulting in him getting cracked on the head. Mifune's performance doesn't suggest the other man is in any danger either in his badass manner as seen in Yojimbo or his unpredictable threat as seen in Seven Samurai. Rather Mifune doesn't present any kind of threat which weirdly is an accomplishment, and kind of magical. Magical because it speaks to the physicality of such a performer who knows how to turn it on and off. As Mifune here seems so much smaller, for the lack of a better word, and in turn crafts the rickshaw man, who is a rickshaw man. 

And from that point of entry, while Mifune subverts his usually larger than life presence, he is larger than life but in a different way. His life here is rather purely within the personality, rather than through any danger the character may have for others. It is impressive as Mifune manages to be both comedic and earnest in creating this alternative style of his presence that does feel so unique within his filmography. Mifune's expressions are with this innate joy of life, this isn't a guy who is constantly struggling, even though he's a poor rickshaw man. Rather his expression is of someone who is ready to face whatever's coming at him, however as a man who maybe doesn't always have the skills to face off he always has the willingness to do so. As much as Mifune is gotten the better off in the opening scene, there is this sort of resilience that Mifune suggests as the innate state of the man. There is a potent energy within Mifune's performance that just exudes a different kind of toughness that is usually for his characters, yet extremely endearing here. Because it isn't presented as the sort of conviction of the normal kind of man, rather this eccentric nature of someone who just always goes about things his way. There's a wryness that Mifune brings by presenting Matsugoro as someone who finds his way around and in things, his way and almost always with a big smile on his face. 

There's another moment early on where Matsugoro is our Mifune type hero but in a very/ different way for Mifune, where he takes on a snooty opera house by cooking smelly food inside it. Mifune's performance emphasizes this dogged manner but more so the joyful sort of exuberance of the man just going about things his way, in his eccentricity however still as a man who overall is low key, which is juxtaposition that maybe shouldn't work however it does. The overall narrative comes in when the Matsugoro comes across a young boy he helps out and leads to him  being introduced to the boy's wealthier mother (Hideko Takamine) and his ailing, soon to be dead, father, a respected military captain, who previously took a liking to Matsugoro for his blunt and eccentric ways. Mifune is marvelous because what he does immediately is purge even the slightest hint that Matsugoro's intentions are anything but the purest. There is no sense that he's trying to manipulate to improve his plight nor is he trying to con them in his way. Rather Mifune exudes warmth, so much warmth, so much warmth in a way that even Mifune's more loving characters usually doesn't have. And it is impressive because there is such a great deal of comforting manner he brings in his delivery, but you also see the why of his physical presence, that makes Matsugoro "smaller" however in turn seemingly so much more comforting as a stranger just coming in to help. 

And Mifune is just wonderful as we see Matsugoro become closer to the family, bringing this powerful sense of the man just wanting to do what's best for the boy, and acting like the purest of mentors and guardians. Take a scene of just as the boy becomes a singer, Mifune's reaction to the singing is everything. There is such pride, such love, such care to every moment in it. He shows a man who just loves getting to experience being part of the boy's life in the most honest way possible. Every interaction Mifune emphasizes is the spirit of goodness that is Matsugoro's true intentions at every point, and it is hard not to find Mifune endearing in every interaction. He has great chemistry with the boy, where he's not a surrogate father exactly, but rather kind of just this perfect sort of loving uncle. Mifune just charms in every instance and it is something special to see Mifune in these moments where there is no overt dramatic weight as we usually see Mifune in so often. Rather he's just a man loving this simple life and loving this simple relationship. Not that his performance is ever simple, you can take the moment where he reacts just to grief of the man's widow, and in just a quick instance you can see so much empathy in Mifune's eyes, that again reinforces Matsugoro as this masterful portrayal of a truly caring man. 

Where the film probably differs from the expectation, and something that improved for me when I re-watched, therefore already knew the trajectory, is it deals with what is the long haul of the relationship between the rickshaw man and the young boy, when class is an ever present part of society. And we see Mifune age here, and he does so beautifully in his performance, nothing over the top, just a slower manner to the man, and a bit more of this sense of quiet nostalgia. We also see the boy grow up and become a man of society, therefore also all too aware of the expectations of that society which do not consider the relationship between him and the "lowly" Rickshaw man as appropriate. We see Matsugoro still be friendly, and the ever present heart in Mifune's performance as he calls out to the boy, now a man, lovingly as "Sonny", a name now rejected and has his mom tell Matsugoro to stop calling him that. Mifune is heartbreaking in this scene because he has so successfully established the sincerity of Matsugoro that the idea of forcing him to call the boy by his full proper name, you see how much it shatters him. His reaction is devastating in the earnest straightforward quality of the man not only losing that relationship but being treated as though he never had one in the first place. The remainder of the film then is the sad end of the rickshaw man, after he has lost his "usefulness" to the rich family. And Mifune is heart wrenching in showing the slow dissolution of the man, because it is with the old spirit of the man in there still. But what Mifune expresses in his reaction is the contrition of society. When he comes back to the mother, perhaps planning on attempting some kind of romantic overture, Mifune portrays instead a man just filled with anxiety and unable to break the restrictions placed on him by society. Leaving him only as a lonely man being worn away, and his final walk to nothingness, Mifune portrays such a potent tragedy of the man truly being lost and now just an old man fading away to nothingness. This is another great performance by Mifune, which is able to be such a heartwarming portrayal of a loving man, but also the tragic tale of what happens when that love is taken for granted.