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.