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.