Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2017: Nawazuddin Siddiqui in Mom

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

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

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

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2017: Mark Rylance in Dunkirk

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

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

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

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

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Results

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

Best Scene: Final fight with wife. 

4. Kamel El Basha in The Insult - Although slightly limited by the narrative El Basha finds nuance and humanity beyond the symbol the screenplay sometimes forces him into. 

Best Scene: The apology. 

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

Best Scene: Removing the makeup. 

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

Best Scene: Final goodbye. 

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

Best Scene: The water. 

Updated Overall

Next: 2017 Supporting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first hurdle in the relationship comes in as Turner fairly blithely discounts Grahame's dream of joining the Royal Shakespeare company to play Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, noting due to her age she’d be more appropriate for the nurse. A tricky moment honestly for Bell to play and one where I think it would’ve been easy to lose all sympathy for the character. Bell though uses effectively to create a sense of the growth of the character through the moment. As in the scene Bell manages to deliver the words as all a joke and more so than that a lack of connection within Grahame on a genuine level. Emphasizing instead the words as coming from a young man just going with the flow of his unlikely situation and barely even considering that he’s dealing with a genuine person despite the singularity of the relationship. Bell’s reaction to Grahame lashing out as his attitude is essential in creating the initial sense of unease and the particular growth of maturity within just that reaction. Bell earns the next move where Turner decides to not only apologize but proceed with a romantic and sexual relationship with Grahame. 

 

The actual relationship is where the film comes short where the specifics don’t quite cut deeper towards any greater truths. The ideas are sorta there but one can always feel they can go further. Having said that, Bell and Bening are certainly game in their “why not” approach to their relationship that becomes a bit deeper over time. Bell creates the right sense of that curiosity that now becomes more of a genuine fascination with the older woman, and Bell is terrific in the way he expresses the simple way he is stricken by her essentially. Bell plays so well within the lines of expressing the growth of empathy as their relationship progresses, so far even to have Turner visit Grahame’s mom and catty sister. Where Bell again plays within the confines so effectively in showing, as Grahame’s sister brings up her multiple marriages including both a father and son, Bell shows not judgment but rather empathy at every turn. Bell earned the moment of Turner instead of saying something negative after this interaction instead revealing his own secret of bi-sexuality. Bell’s fantastic moment in the simple honesty of the delivery where he shows it is a man getting something off his chest but also him wanting to ease the tension away for this woman he is coming to love. 

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

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Kamel El Basha in The Insult

Kamel El Basha, despite winning the Volpi Cup, did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Yasser Abdallah Salameh in The Insult.

The Insult follows two men, a Palestinian refugee, and a native Christian in Lebanon as they get in a conflict that begins with an insult. 

Kamel El Basha plays the Palestinian half Yasser to Adel Karam as Tony the other half. With the film opening essentially as a feud between Tony at his home and Yasser as one of the men doing construction on his building. Something that essentially begins with angry glances and some angry words between the men with a great deal of hostility. El Basha’s work in these early scenes is honestly where his character is the most interesting because he feels the least symbolic in these scenes. El Basha brings a blunt reality of the man initially just as a guy doing a job with the exasperation around that being the defining factor of the character. Something that we get within his delivery calling Tony a “fucking prick” as just a result of a man just annoyed at having to re-do the job and deal with a person getting in the way of it. An element then that is something that can be gotten over when initially he comes to apologize and El Basha plays well the note of just holding his anger in however as someone willing to accept this way out. That however changes when it becomes clear that Tony’s views are more intense in his anti-Palestianian sentiment. Where El Basha’s largely reactionary performance in these scenes becomes more intense is basically in the repressment of the anger, to the point it is boiling in his face, even if he doesn’t let any of it out until Tony openly states his wish that the Palestinian should’ve been wiped out. Leading to Yasser to punch Tony, a moment which is well realized by El Basha as a tipping point of his frustration, momentary but impactful. 

The film then shifts to become a legal battle that ends up essentially unearthing this conflict between two men to connect it to generational conflict between ethnic and religious groups. In turn El Basha has far less interesting material to work with. As he is mostly tasked with being the put upon man hounded by Tony through two different trials in order to perform some kind of revenge against Yasser but really the Palestinian people. El Basha to his credit doesn’t fall upon easy choices to become the wailing victim or too much of a righteous indignation. In his reactions he brings an earned frustration quietly stewing within himself that he slowly eases up throughout his scenes. He isn’t all that focused upon though within this and it is mostly left to El Basha to bring these changes alive. He does a decent job, particularly the quiet humility of his work when Tony ends up unexpectedly giving Yasser some help when Yasser’s car won’t start. But both men’s personal struggle ends up taking the backseat to the symbols they become within the larger struggle. What this eventually culminates in is both men basically leaving behind their personal conflict mostly as the societal one builds up with them becoming pawns in a way. Leading to a climactic personal moment eventually, which is the most compelling thing El Basha gets to work with in the latter half of the film as he meets with Tony on his own. Where he begins bombarding him with negative Christian sentiments, and El Basha is good in playing it with a certain knowing distance while selling the words. Playing the moment as basically Yasser presenting himself as Tony from the beginning of the film, not as a falsehood but a presentation of his own anger filtered through hateful means. Leading to Tony to punch Yasser, which El Basha reveals the reality of the moment, so effectively through his way of accepting the punch with a wholly earnest apology followed afterwards. El Basha presents suddenly the rage honestly having been gone and one man to another just trying to genuinely make amends through what they’ve been through. It’s a strong moment, one that makes me though slightly annoyed by how much Yasser as a character takes a backseat up until this point, given El Basha is so game to find the nuance within the character. Regardless it stands as a good performance but the writing behind is illustrative of the film’s overall shortcomings. However even with that in mind, El Basha delivers an impressive performance by accentuating the nuance whenever can. It would've been easy to fall into the easy notes, something I feel his co-star unfortunately does do, but El Basha consistently elevates and maintains complexity rather than simplicity. 

Alternate Best Actor 2017: Josh Brolin in Only the Brave

Josh Brolin did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Eric Marsh in Only the Brave. 

Only the Brave tells the true story of a unit of Hot Shot firefighters, who use fire to fight the fires. 

In a role primed to be poorly played by Mark Wahlberg, we instead are granted Josh Brolin as the leader of the firefighters. Brolin is most welcome as an opponent and has a fitting presence for this kind of part, as his rougher look is a natural fit for the hard hat wearing firefighting pro. Brolin in turn chooses not to try to overemphasize anything in order to be believable in the part. He doesn’t heavily adjust his presence rather bringing just a naturalistic quality in being this sort of “man of the people” type of character right from the outset. Brolin delivers a quiet leader of the crew charisma in his scenes with the men, he doesn’t make big speeches but has often the right kind of stoic certainty in his manner that would be convincing that you’d follow this guy into a burning building. He’s not the greatest leader known to man in Brolin’s performance, rather just a guy who knows what he’s doing and acts as a straight shooter in most arenas. We see him bring the fatherly warmth in moments with his men, particularly troubled newcomer Brendan (Miles Teller) who he takes under his wing despite hesitations by some of the other men. Brolin brings it directly and earnestly, never going into overemphasis theatrics instead fittingly playing very straight to the bone as the guy who wants to get his job done, knows how to do it and cares for his men in a very blunt and direct fashion. 

Brolin isn’t only the leader among the men as part of the film’s story is Brolin’s Marsh getting certification for his crew to be considered elite firefighters. Something that we see early on when Eric makes some suggestions to other firefighters, who not only ignore him but dismiss Eric as lesser than. Brolin’s performance is good in the scene bringing more modest quality in the delivery of the suggestions of someone who isn’t trying to act up but genuinely trying to help, and internalizes well the frustrations that he keeps inside yet are still evident when being dismissed. Something he brings to their eventual certification test where the observer tries to pull rank on him and push him around with the approach to fighting the fire. Brolin brings just the right controlled exasperated rage when he reminds the observer of his place, and shows within the frustrations the years of having to deal with that sort of nonsense. The controlled rage being of a mad intent on setting his flag clearly and within his mind proper justification. Brolin plays the leader of the men, but a leader who has been challenged, angered by those challenges yet willing to persevere through their rather intense challenges. 

Beyond his role as a firefighter the major conflict for Eric is the relationship with his wife Amanda (Jennifer Connelly). Where Brolin and Connelly I’d say have okay though not truly remarkable chemistry in their interactions which are a mix of flirtation and frustration. The latter stemming from her concerns for his safety and his workaholic attitude towards the firefighting job. Something Brolin again handles well in presenting just this torn loyalties where he portrays the severe conviction to his job as basically a truth, but still is earnest in his frustrations towards his wife’s concerns. An idea that ends up explored in a somewhat too little too late fashion as the film introduces very late that Eric and Amanda met as mutual alcoholics who recovered together, and leads Eric even to treat Brandon’s request for a safer gig as a potential avenue for faltering once again to addiction. Brolin is good in these moments in portraying the unease when being called out about essentially a new addiction in firefighting as the truth, where his reactions take in this quiet sense of anxiety as he tries to brush it off via his conviction of the nobility of the profession. Brolin finds the appropriate complication of the sentiment to the degree he can because this is an aspect the film could’ve explored more or at least with more depth, rather than something they bring up right towards the end of the film limiting that possible exploration. And after that the film is essentially over with only the central tragedy left, where Brolin’s performance in that surprisingly short sequence is good, particularly the growing sense of dread in his face, however it doesn’t quite leave the impact one would imagine possibly given the tragic nature of the story, although that is hardly Brolin’s fault. Brolin gives a good performance that suggests a greater potential within the material than is wholly realized. 

Alternate Best Actor 2017

 And the Nominees Were Not:

Josh Brolin in Only the Brave

Vladimir Brichta in Bingo: The King of the Mornings

Joaquin Phoenix in You Were Never Really Here

Kamel El Basha in The Insult

Jamie Bell in Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1986: Results

10. David Bowie in Labyrinth - Bowie delivers a perfectly serviceable performance which coasts heavily on his presence, a little too heavily as he's strangely just sort of there much of the time. Playing very much with a lack seriousness without being funny, a lack of menace without being fun and even is musical performances don't really have that much flair to them despite his costuming. 

Best Scene: Dance magic dance.  

9. Rutger Hauer in The Hitcher - Hauer is effective at being menacing in his charismatic way even if it asks far too little of him. 

Best Scene: Opening. 

8. Clancy Brown in Highlander - Brown basically gives two performances, one as a brute, one more so as a crazed villain. He's good at both even if there is a lack of cohesion. 

Best Scene: Church

7. Chow Yun-Fat in A Better Tomorrow - Chow is charismatic and brings the only real emotional impact within the overall scheme of his film. It's only a shame he's not the lead. 

Best Scene: Shoot out. 

6. Michael Caine in Mona Lisa - Caine gives a properly menacing and sleazy performance. 

Best Scene: Final confrontation. 

5. Tom Noonan in Manhunter - Noonan gives a quietly creepy performance that gets under your skin by his calm. 

Best Scene: Do you see?

4. Ray Liotta in Something Wild - Liotta takes over is film with ease giving a charismatic but properly threatening performance of a man going out of control in pursuit of his wife. 

Best Scene: Home invasion. 

3. Dean Stockwell in Blue Velvet - Stockwell gives a brilliantly idiosyncratic work that is so wonderfully one of a kind in its Lynchian goodness. 

Best Scene: His scene. 

2. John Goodman in True Stories - Goodman delivers the most compelling vignettes consistently in is first funny though later moving portrayal of a man searching for love. 

Best Scene: "People like us" first try. 

1. Alan Ruck in Ferris Bueller's Day Off - Good predictions Luke, A, Tahmeed, 8000's Ytrewq, Lucas, Harris & Bryan. Though within overall a light comedy Ruck gives a genuinely emotionally nuanced and in the end quite powerful portrayal of an depressed teenager finding is strength. 

Best Scene: Killing the car. 

Updated Overall

Next: 2017 Lead

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1986: Alan Ruck in Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Alan Ruck did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. 

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off follows a young man named Cameron as he suffers split personality disorder envisioning his “best friend” Ferris (Matthew Broderick)’s outlandish day off. 

I begin with the oft made joke about Ferris Bueller as a Fight Club scenario, but honestly it works a little too well by just how much Ferris is able to do, get away with and sort of represents a potential idealized version of the “Cool guy” someone like Cameron might imagine for his own day off compared to his actual day off, and if you examine the film from a certain point of view it does all make sense. Ruck is very much the balance of the film, ostensibly as the “uncool” lanky best friend to Ferris but in reality it is Cameron who is anything in the film that doesn’t represent more so that day off fantasy from, for the lack of a better word, more juvenile fantasy. Cameron is the contrast, the reality and the depth of the piece and Ruck’s own performance is key to all of it. Something evident from the opening scenes where you see Ferris, in the fantasy, easily fool his parents by pretending he’s sick to his extremely gullible parents as though we’d be all so lucky to have parents buy everything at such face value. Contrasting that is the more realistic situation when Ferris calls Cameron, who we too see lying in bed though in a genuine stupor. Something that Ferris insists is all in his head, and Ferris is correct, however it isn’t all that simple given it is clear from Ruck’s performance that it is of a psychological pain which Cameron is suffering from. What Ruck does so well particularly given that he was nearly 30 at the time, is embody a specific teenage ennui within his performance from this outset, as what he successfully plays is very much the boy in the man and vice versa a certain constant. Something found in his first scene of explaining to Ferris that he’s at death door with his own self-diagnosis with genuine exasperation of a man fed up with life, however followed by a song about his own doom, which honestly would not work if not Ruck’s performance of it being so pitch perfect that it creates also the sense of the child aspect of Cameron’s approach to the situation. 

The next time we see Cameron it is in a more overtly comedic situation when Ferris is calling the school principal (Jeffrey Jones) in order to get his girlfriend Sloane (Mia Sara) out of school for the day as well, where Cameron is called upon for the ruse by pretending to be Sloan’s father over the phone. Something that is realized through a Gene Saks impression and again you have great work from Ruck in specifically the way he is able to maneuver a more insightful tone in his performance. As in part he certainly does make the joke of the overly haughty sounding father being outraged by the principal, but when he breaks for a moment in the plan, Ruck genuinely is great in being suddenly so honest in revealing much more a teenager’s anxieties over potentially getting caught in this lie. The switch by Ruck feels so authentic from the two sides as he finds his confidence again and gives a very much juvenile grin to Ferris as he proceeds with the impression once more. Where there is a great bit of chemistry shared between the two as you see in that moment 10 year old Cameron and Ferris playing a prank together. Again what Ruck excels with is creating this certain personal limbo that defines who Cameron is during the day off. Before going to get Sloane however Ferris proceeds to want to use Cameron’s father's prized Ferrari for their day’s hijinks. Something that Cameron outright rejects, where Ruck instantly gives you a sense of where Cameron’s state of mind comes from. As he speaks with an understated, but very potent fear, that is part of the idea of taking the car, but Ruck internalizes in his eyes to something deeper alluding to very real terror at the idea of dealing with his father. Ruck in a moment of setting up later events grants us insight into where Cameron is coming from and this isolating quality of his existence. 

Cameron’s reaction then to the day of various activities in and around Chicago with Ferris and Sloane is the dramatic meat of the film, which is mostly designed as lighter fun, but within Cameron and Ruck’s performance is where you get more. Much more honestly as he punctuates moments throughout the sequences to grant them a far greater depth than you would perhaps even expect, and a big reason why is just how much Ruck brings to the role. Take the moment they’re overlooking the stock exchange and he says he sees his father. Ruck brings so much in just his look and in that statement that is filled with dread and a fundamental disgust that speaks to his existence. Something we are given more bluntly when he attacks Ferris’s idea about suggesting an impromptu marriage to Sloane, which Cameron objects to based on the principle of the misery of his parents. Ruck attacks this existence more directly, and effectively so in placing just his exasperation and anger that again creates the years of dealing with that misery. Or you have the moment with Sloane talking about their potential futures, where Ruck is incredible, and in a weird way the chemistry he has with Sara always seems to cut deeper than her moments with Broderick. But anyway, it’s a beautifully realized moment where both admit they’re not interested in anything for their future, and Ruck is incredible because his face manages to convey both this joy of in a way holding onto an aimlessness of youth yet there is still a striking somberness in that exuberance who knows such aimlessness can’t last. However there is no greater moment in this sense than when they go to the art museum and it is a purely silent moment of examining the La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat. Ruck is outstanding because the moment is made by his performance where you see this young man going through all the existential pain of his existence yet with this strange calm as he focuses on just this painting and makes a moment purely out of the silence where he reveals more of Cameron in that silence.

Of course Ruck is also good in playing into just the fun of the moments in being the more straitlaced sidekick reacting with concern to Ferris’s recklessness, particularly over his dad’s Ferrari, and Ruck balances that with the moments of getting caught up into the fun himself. Making it all very natural and balances nicely against Broderick’s far broader fourth wall breaking performance. However eventually due to miles gained on the Ferrari due to some less than trustworthy parking garage attendants we return to a broader stroke for Ruck himself, and a particularly broad stroke given first he has to let out a destroyed wail then pretend to be in a state of comatose. Two scripted beats that honestly could’ve fallen flat yet Ruck impressively makes work, by honestly going big but not too big. Even his face in comatose, as silly as the idea could be, the fact that he chose the slightly pained expression as the frozen one makes it work and still feel like the same Cameron we saw staring pensively at the painting earlier. Leading however to a particularly stellar moment where Cameron falls into a pool to be rescued by Ferris, leading Cameron to reveal his coma as a joke and to tell Ferris that he’s his hero. A magnificent moment due to Ruck’s delivery where there is the joke aspect of it that works, where Ruck’s delivery basically is “fangirling” for the lack of a better description but even in the joking moment, Ruck still makes it all part of this certain personal exasperation with life that makes it still feel absolutely real to the character. Leading to the scene of the film where Ferris’s dumb plan to reduce the mileage on Cameron’s dad’s Ferrari naturally doesn’t work. Ruck is absolutely outstanding as he finally verbalizes every bit of his life that we had been alluding to the whole time. Ruck’s slow breakdown in revealing his heartbreak towards his dad openly but also his rage that is both at his dad and himself with his repeated vicious delivery of “I have to take a stand”. Ruck honestly begins to sound so much older, so effectively so, in stating he will take a stand and build from the heartbreak to his rage of conviction now no longer between himself and his father, now just his father. As he kicks the car, denting it, Ruck brings years of pent up hate towards his father’s cruelty into the moment and there is such catharsis as he notes that he “dented the shit of it”. Ruck doesn’t simplify the moment, showing fear underlining certain words, coming across his face, but in a way only empowers his defiance all the more. That is until he accidentally sends the car out of the window, and Ruck’s surprised “oh shit” reaction is hilarious. But after a moment of silence, Ruck brings back the conviction, but a different conviction than before, less rage induced and with a calmer realization and even strength in every word, even as Ferris insists he take the fall for it instead. Ruck not only that he suddenly even dominates Ferris in a way he never has before in his insistence and saying one can say no to Ferris. Ruck portraying in Cameron this calm even happiness now in taking this stand. Ruck is the heart of the film through this realization of this arc through every step up of the way. A genuinely emotional portrayal of the aimless depressed youth finding joy and his strength, which is all the more impressive by just how easy he makes it all look. Where he goes from so young, to mature in moments, finding the intricacies of this life that is complicated and brings us from the sad teen with no hope, to the young man with a chance in life in through such an honest and powerful journey.

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1986: Ray Liotta in Something Wild

Ray Liotta did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Ray Sinclair in Something Wild. 

Something Wild follows a milquetoast banker Charlie (Jeff Daniels) who gets caught up in the world of a wild criminal woman Audrey (Melanie Griffith).

The first half of the film is a largely comedic film about Daniels and Griffith on their escapades together, as she pushes him out of his specific shell and into her nearly insane at times chaotic mania that involves petty larceny, uprooting Charlie’s seemingly stable existence and naturally along with some wild sex. All of this eventually leads to the pair going to Audrey’s high school reunion with Charlie as her husband, unfortunately this leads to the pair running into Audrey’s actual husband Ray which immediately makes the film change genres from a comedy towards a thriller. This was Ray Liotta’s partial breakout role and with obvious reason, as the moment Liotta comes on screen he begins to dominate the film. Although this is a case one ponders how it was to watch the film in 1986 given that Liotta came up known for his gangster tough guy roles rather than being newcomer in this film and how one would have responded, given we have a predisposition of an expectation with him even in a role that was before he became the Liotta we’d expect. As when Ray Sinclair first appears with a different woman and eager to get to know Audrey’s “new husband” Charlie, Liotta begins with a theoretical charm offensive as he is encouraging in everything he says to Charlie and naturally throws in a few Liotta laughs for good measure. Liotta as we know him of course makes you feel a little unease in this excessive friendliness being Liotta, however I think what Liotta does well is not play the character of Ray as overtly that he might’ve been in lesser hands. What Liotta does consistently here is elevate a potential type of the jealous ex-boyfriend, though we’ll eventually learn he is in fact Audrey’s ex-husband, and turn him into something a bit more real. As it would be easy enough to have played more so into just planning the intimidation of Charlie immediately, and while that is still playing in Liotta’s eyes that denotes a deeper calculation to his questions to Charlie, there’s a strange genuine interest in Liotta’s note as well. Liotta by doing so presents Ray as wanting to get to know this man his wife has replaced him with, not just in hate but in some attempt to determine the situation to himself. 

An element that he reveals further when finally alone for a moment Liotta switches on a dime when with Audrey. A moment that is great acting by Liotta because in the switch it isn’t an immediate obsession, rather you see vulnerability in Liotta performance as he asks for her to give him another chance. Liotta doesn’t play the moment as a villain rather a man genuinely trying to present himself in some reformed, albeit falsely, light to his wife. Pivotal in that desperation is the sense of the history of failings in Ray who is trying to be some better man in his delivery with that need presenting obsession with her but also specific personal insecurity of a longer relationship. A relationship that propels him not only to casually dump his current girlfriend, literally at a convenience store, but take off in some cockeyed scheme to, in his mind, win Audrey back. Liotta’s performance captures a particular kind of energy that presents an unwieldy quality for Ray. As much as Ray does have a plan to try to rid himself of Charlie, by even framing him, while also robbing a convenience store, the way Liotta maneuvers in these scenes is with much confidence but without much of a sense of an intellectual plan. Rather Liotta brings really even this joy of going with the flow, with highlights of intensity, where Liotta shows that the behaviors aren’t really anything new for Ray to begin with, yet there is the nagging sense of real jealousy and still that desperation that compels him in this particular endeavor of his. Liotta’s performance creates a new angle to a potentially old character through this approach and lets us into more so with his obsession which Liotta keeps fundamentally less melodramatic. As a moment where he is left behind by Charlie and Audrey, and a woman interested in Ray appears, his reaction to her is great work by Liotta, because if you’d watch this scene in isolation you wouldn’t suspect anything horrible will come of it because Liotta plays it with such genuine excitement as Ray sees a new opportunity to pursue the couple. In the moment what Liotta is playing though is the real excitement to see his wife again, now of course this is not a good thing given what Ray plans to do when he gets there, but what Liotta keeps alive is the fundamental truth that in Ray’s own broken way he does honestly love Audrey…or at least believes that he does. Something that leads to the climactic scene where director Jonathan Demme seemed to be cutting his teeth on going fully horror thriller, which he’d do so successfully with Silence of the Lambs, as Ray invades Charlie’s home and attacks them both. A scene that is pure horror and part of the reason why is that Liotta is playing a particular note of insanity where the fear from it is based on the uncertainty of the situation in Ray’s own mind. Throughout the scene Liotta is changing notes, which is not as a criticism rather praise because what Liotta does so well is showing the uncertainty of someone who doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing, however what that will be will not be a good thing. So we get moments of pure visceral intensity and weirdly casual moments, both which serve the same purpose as representing someone who has lost in a way that could lead to as much horror as a serial killer with intent. A sequence that builds to the finale where Charlie manages to stab Ray, a moment that is absolute brilliance for Liotta, because his reaction is still not as an overt villain but rather a man who let his worst nature get the best of him. As Liotta’s reaction is that of surprise, not even I can’t believe this weakling got the best of me sort of thing, but rather the surprise of a man who didn’t exactly know what he was doing to begin with, however getting killed by Charlie never crossed his mind. It’s a compelling and captivating near debut that immediately makes an impression, takes hold of the film and doesn't let go until he exits. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1986: John C. McGinley in Platoon, Levi Stubbs in Little Shop of Horrors & Vincent Price in The Great Mouse Detective

John C. McGinley did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Sergeant O’Neill in Platoon. 

John C. McGinley plays Sergeant O’Neill in Platoon, and honestly is one of the best hidden aspects of the film where his story is constantly playing out throughout the film even if it isn’t really the focus of the film at any point. McGinley plays one of the more seasoned soldiers in the titular platoon who is in the faction with the scarred and truly seasoned Barnes (Tom Berenger). McGinley sets up his character of O’Neill in these early scenes with not an easy confidence, but a confidence of someone who has set up for himself as much of a situation as he can by holding close to Barnes. McGinley in the early scenes sets the stage effectively by projecting not exactly a phony confidence but rather the confidence of a certain routine. His reactions to Barnes, and his own moments of technical leadership within the troop are that of the consistency of the expectation of his routine at this point. McGinley is the proper sycophant though he is just going along in a particularly convincing manner in his performance. He doesn’t overplay the note rather emphasizes more so how it’s all part of just his life in war but more so as a job, at least at first. The fundamental scene within the scheme of the film is when the platoon invades a local village propelled by anger after finding fellow troops killed by the Vietcong. A sequence where McGinley’s performance honestly stands out more than anything else in it, just what he is doing on the sidelines though in that side creates a fascinating portrait of a man just standing idly by. There’s a key scene where O’Neill observes another soldier going crazy and killing a random innocent villager. McGinley’s reactions in this scene are outstanding because though O’Neill will take no action, every bit of the horror of the moment, he too does find horrible. McGinley expresses absolute dismay and fear, perhaps in part of the result of the war crime he could be culpable of, but also the genuine humanity of witnesses of such an atrocity. His terrified delivery of basically saying just to go and forget that any of it happened is brilliant work because McGinley doesn’t just play into the bad man type, though O’Neill is that, rather shows the man who knows this is all wrong but will stay back and just try to avoid any of it best that he is able to do so. Every scene throughout the rest of the film McGinley makes a quiet impact in creating the internal life of O’Neill within the Platoon as the man who just wants to survive, though not in a way that one would describe as a survivalist rather that of avoidance of responsibility of himself in a way. McGinley has another amazing moment where he is telling another soldier he’s going home, and again McGinley’s great in that it could be a simple jerk moment of jealousy. McGinley brings so much vulnerability within the lines as you sense the real fear in the man, but just a hint of the strange encouragement to man to enjoy the thing he knows he’s not getting. The same great moment is when he tries to back out of the upcoming battle with Barnes as he notes having a bad feeling. Again would’ve been an easy note to over play with too much surface, but the seething anxiety he brings makes it such a genuinely human moment. It doesn't excuse O'Neill's action but shows them coming from a real place, not a stock character. Which again we get another great silent moment from McGinley during that battle when he hides himself among corpses, where he lets you in on his thinking in the moment of the man finding his way out within his fear though by playing into the fear in his way. Leading up to the perfect final moment of the character, where he is rewarded for surviving with a promotion. McGinley’s final reaction being pitch perfect to match that choice where you instantly see the weight of the assignment upon his eyes and you see the man instantly filled with regret as his eyes show a man seeing his future of responsibility and more war that he is not ready for. It’s a wonderful performance between the lines of the film, where McGinley runs with the potential of the role to not hide the negative qualities but rather to imbue them with such honesty that he makes him not a type but a person. 

Levi Stubbs did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors.

Levi Stubbs plays of course the centerpiece character of Little Shop of Horrors, the voice of the giant man eating plant that grows bigger the more blood/human flesh given to him by the hapless Seymour (Rick Moranis). Re-watching the film I’ll admit I forgot just how long it actually took for Audrey II to actually speak to Seymour openly and become the more overt villain offering the Faustian deal of fame, fortune and the original Audrey (Ellen Greene) as “prizes” he can offer him. The plant itself is one of the grand achievements of the film as the puppetry is just incredible work in just how well realized it gives life to the character of a giant man eating plant, but Stubbs’s work is also a key ingredient. Of course as a singer, Stubbs of course delivers on the tune given to Audrey II throughout the film, but in every song the vocal performance is beyond just attuned singing and speaks to his overall impact within the character. Stubbs’s voice is an ideal combination because he both manages to make the joke so to speak, while also being completely convincing in elevating from a joke. As it is worth noting the terrible voice of Audrey II in the original Corman film was entirely a joke, as even the halfhearted nature of the work was part of that joke. There is a joke here too in that this alien plant from outer space that eats people doesn’t sound like some monster but rather has a very, ironically, earthy and rather casual way of speaking. Although seemingly not born long ago, seems Audrey II ages old and this immediately works where Stubbs’s rather blunt and comical qualities he makes sing, in indeed making the joke of the situation by playing into the silliness of such a situation where an alien plan it coarse and wise cracking to Seymour. The execution of which is something Stubbs nails just in each approach because Stubbs brings this quality that is almost to say “yeah I’m an alien plant who wants to eat people, deal with”. While this is amusing, and successful, this isn’t why I am currently writing about this performance, because where Stubbs excels beyond that is the darker qualities of his work as the faustian trickster. Stubbs’s specific playfulness is brilliantly implemented throughout his work because there is a balance he achieves which he does so with complete ease yet is quite the trick. Because what Stubbs does is create within his work the glints of the intended darkness, as when he is prodding Seymour to something more sinister, there’s a knowing even intensity within the slyness he conveys in every word. His whole performance of “Supper Time” is fantastic because there’s the genuine deviousness in every word he speaks that creates far more the sense of a real mastermind that isn’t just some crazy plant who wants humans like a fool. In fact Stubbs even when he plays the sillier note there’s always a hectoring quality to his work, as though he’s purposefully mocking Seymour in these moments and as entertaining as his performance is, it is entirely wrapped in the fiendish sense of the real purpose of the plant. It’s a great performance because what it does is master the specific comedic, but not entirely just comic, tone of the piece by implementing the darkness, but also there’s no disconnect. You just believe Stubbs’s voice is this plant, there’s no getting used to it, and even more so there’s not a moment that you don’t connect the plant puppet with Stubbs’s own voice. They are one and the same, and his work is a fusion within the amazing technical work, by making Audrey II as entertaining and most importantly as tangible as any other character in the film. 

Vincent Price did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Professor Ratigan in The Great Mouse Detective. 

Following up Stubbs’s great vocal work in a live action film is Vincent Price, a well known live action actor being made of great use in this animated film. A film that comes just before the celebrity casting became an expected element of animated films, and if I’m being perfectly honest at the time I in some ways preferred it because of the laziness of so many celebrity castings that came afterwards. Price in this film, as essentially the rat/mouse equivalent of Professor Moriarty, is an example of the ideal form of the celebrity casting, where the casting was done with the actor in mind, where the voice seemed honestly the only choice for the character and Price’s own performance lives up to the ideal but also goes beyond. As part of this performance is what Price became famous for which is playing into the idea of a campy flamboyant villainy, something he excelled in in live action and comes across just as well here given just how much character there is innately in Price’s voice. Price, though bringing the same particular kind of colorful energy to every word here that amplifies that animation, just as much as the animation amplifies his voice work in making Ratigan a villain who loves being a villain. Price’s voice is perfect for that as it is as animated as the…animation. Every line Price sinks into with the best bit of theatrical scenery chewing however is ideal for the role of Ratigan, a villain who loves being called a villain going so far as to sing a song about with his henchmen as his chorus. Something where Price is so much fun in singing every bit of it with so much pride, though with the right accentuation of the fiendishness whenever talking about his opponent Basil of Baker Street where you see such sudden hatred on the edges as though it is the intrusive thoughts that Ratigan can quite fully control alluding to his true nature. Price is great fun even murdering one of his henchmen, for daring to call him a rat, however with classic Price's way of while he brings anger in his voice at first he suddenly becomes rather gentle sounding as he leads the poor mouse to be eaten by Ratigan’s pet cat. So much of his work is just enjoying him being the foppish villain delight where he works wholly in both qualities with that Price ease as a villain, but honestly one of the best iterations as such. I have particular affection I will say for his delivery of the song “Goodbye so Soon” combined with his noting that Basil was late in his police work, to get caught by Ratigan’s trap with such smug self-assurance in every accentuated word. Followed by the song itself where Price’s voice through a record is such beautiful hectoring for every second we hear it as making Ratigan as villain who just loves to rub it in. But as great as Price is being Price, I will give him even more credit to his work that amplifies the hidden element, that he alluded to through certain breaks in his more foppish demeanor, when Ratigan in the finale goes fully rabbit essentially as he just tries to straight up murder Basil with his claws. Price backs up the animation with his own more grizzled voice as he brings an animalistic growl beneath his lines and beautifully backs up Ratigan as he fully embraces his…well, rattiness. I even love his delivery of “I won” after he thinks he’s beaten Basil because it is combination of qualities, as it is still Ratigan enjoying his victory, but less smugly, and more so these relief combined with a bit more of a straightforward honesty of someone who know has been through the ringer for his victory. Price presents the ideal on HOW to cast a celebrity in a role because no one would’ve been better for Ratigan than Price, he makes the role, not just by being great casting but backing it up with a terrific vocal performance.