Alternate Best Actor 1968: Tatsuya Nakadai in Kill!

Tatsuya Nakadai did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Genta in Kill!

Kill! is essentially Kihachi Okamoto’s version of Sanjuro, though in this version two strangers get involved in a clan conflict over the corrupt and non-corrupt forces. 

We sadly finally lost the great Tatsuya Nakadai which is one of the great discoveries for me from this endeavor. Such a multi-fact talent, and here’s another one of his great talents as essentially Nakadai gets to take on the opposite of his parts against Toshiro Mifune in Yojimbo and Sanjuro, where he played the chief villain each time, here he plays the hero who happens upon the situation. What’s wonderful is Nakadai’s take on the hero is completely his own and not for a second do you see him trying to replicate Mifune’s specific energy. Rather Nakadai brilliantly comes at things his own way, even the presentation of Genta where Nakadai very much plays into the idea of why everyone he’s around would falsely believe his Genta to be just a drifter of no note. As Nakadai has this casual energy that is just amazing here as every look from him is wonderful in creating truly the sense of a man just going along with life seemingly at this point. Offering a particularly enjoyable contrast to Hanji (Etsushi Takahashi), a peasant who wants to become a samurai who is almost hyperactive in his endeavor, Nakadai brings this passive energy, that is so remarkable because he is wholly charismatic in this totally unexpected casual demeanor. 

Nakadai is able to accentuate this ease of his presence where he brings the audience specifically into his sense of the situation where even as we see far more dramatic people going around as they find a small group in a clan is trying to weed out the larger scale corruption but the odds are against them, Nakadai brings an innate intelligence where every glance from him speaks so much into Genta calculating so much even as everyone either dismisses him or considers him of dangerous only in the sense of being a potential spy. Nakadai’s way of delivering every line of Genta basically allows others to think whatever they want as a “why not” confidence of someone who knows he’s got more than a hand up on everyone however entirely in his own way. Nakadai’s performance is a combination between being the hero and being hilarious however by playing the hero in such a path of least resistance sort of fashion. Where Nakadai brings the brilliance of the man though as someone who doesn’t want to force, making it so he does everything his own, rather amusing fashion. Something shown in the earliest fight scene where he’s tied up and maneuvers around within the action, where just every glance and even his physical way of walking about manages to be very funny, while also emphasizing the intelligence of the character. Particularly his pitch perfect exasperation when he sees the good members of the clan make a bad decision. 

Nakadai’s Genta acts in his own way like the samurai of Sanjuro, but again his way of directives is quite different, because the expectations of others is that he is this vagrant. So what we get instead is Nakadai’s deliveries which are all wonderful where he convinces people to do the right thing not through demand, but this very specific charisma of someone who seems to know exactly what everyone needs to do, though not for any particular reason. Nakadai lets us in on the fun which is particularly special where we get the moments where he considers certain options such as knowing there is a woman the good men might come to blows over and finds out that she’s heading to the men. Nakadai’s great in the way he speaks first with certainty but then when he hears the bad news, his immediate switch to a growing concern as he unravels more of the situation makes it so we are also benefiting from this knowledge that comes so easy to him. So easy to him that even when he’s surviving attacks from a semi-apologetic Hanji, Nakadai movements are so great as he manages to make it all look easy while also weirdly stumbling, as he is able to convincingly be this “accidental” expert in every quality. I especially love how even when his semi-friend is trying to kill him, Nakadai doesn’t react at being upset, rather it is with this knowing manner of someone using it to teach a lesson, not as a punishment but as a way to genuinely help Hanji out with his much sloppier path. 

We eventually do have moments where Genta is pushed into a corner and is forced to show his hand a bit. In those moments, Nakadai essentially becomes the man just simply cutting cake when using his sword and shows how naturally that Genta is simply beyond everyone in his skill even pressed to show off. His manner showing that his heartbeat maybe raises from below average to just average in these moments, as again Nakadai’s energy level here is so great in just how atypical yet convincing it is as such an atypical hero. We do get a key moment where we find out Genta’s primary motivation, where Genta was tired of the samurai life and particularly his own failure to weed out corruption in his own clan. Nakadai’s great in the scene because of how little he puts on it. Instead every word is simply the truth from his mouth, where there is a quiet underlying emotion of the sense of loss and even more so the strict imperative to do the right thing from now albeit in his own particular way. A way that gets more complicated when he gets caught and beaten for his efforts at a certain point, though saved by Hanji. I love it though when the barely received Genta comes up with the plan with Hanji and the good members of the clan, which includes Genta casually stating he will take down the lead villain of the clan, who also just happens to be the best swordsman of the entire clan. Nakadai’s performance again shows strength in ease, as even as he’s not trying to sell it, there is a strange even more powerful confidence in the ease of his conviction, as the essentially physically beaten down man says he’ll be the strongest man with the ease of man saying what he’ll have for lunch. Leading to a most unorthodox final battle where Genta utilizes the smallness of a room to disable his opponents use of a sword and commandeers a candle stick. Nakadai even in performing this action scene is great because again he manages this weird yet ideal combination between sloppiness and precision. Where obviously Genta knows exactly what he’s doing yet does it in a way where only he knows this, and Nakadai makes this all so effortlessly convincing while being comedic while never being a joke. Honestly Nakadai’s work here is so particular in its success because he is a total badass while being quite silly and what a natural combination he makes it. It is however merely another grand entertaining testament to the vast talents of the man who could be the most insidious of villains, or just an absolute delight of a hero as he is here. 

Best Actor Backlog Volume 7

And the Overlooked Performances Are:

John Heard in Chilly Scenes of Winter

Matthew Macfadyen in Pride & Prejudice

Tatsuya Nakadai in Kill!

Chhabi Biswas in Devi

John Gielgud in Prospero's Books

Alternate Best Actor 2004: Results

 9. Gael García Bernal in The Motorcycle Diaries - Creates a striking portrait of a man finding his path, convincing as a man but also granting the traits that would create the myth essentially. 

Best Scene: "Political Speech"

8. Irrfan Khan in Maqbool - Gives a captivating take on the oft played character even if the adaptation makes it all in a bit of a rush. 

Best Scene: Making his final decision. 

7. Christian Bale in The Machinist - Bale gives a compelling depiction of the character's mental anguish within his often noted physical transformation. 

Best Scene: Paranoid outburst

6. Shah Rukh Khan in Swades - Khan gives a properly charismatic and moving portrayal of a man finding his path in life. 

Best Scene: Entertaining during a power outage. 

5. Mads Mikkelsen in Pusher II - Mikkelsen gives a moving portrayal of man going from a thug looking for acceptance towards attempting to find a better life through self-improvement. 

Best Scene: Learning about his son.

4. Yuya Yagira in Nobody Knows - Yagira gives a wholly honest portrayal of both the enforced responsibility of an adult and the frustrated boy within. 

Best Scene: Confronting his mom

3. Bill Murray in The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou - Murray on the surface gives a very funny Bill Murray deadpan performance, but at the same time a powerful portrayal of a man coming to terms with his mortality. 

Best Scene: "I wonder if he remembers me".

2. Tony Leung in 2046 - Leung delivers a great follow-up performance because he successfully expands the role but also powerfully never loses the strength of his original work, by presenting a man still ever haunted however has to continue to live on.

Best Scene: Rejecting Bai Ling.

1. Paddy Considine in Dead Man's Shoes - Good predictions Luke, Jonathan, Tony, Perfectionist, Lucas, A, Harris, Brazinterma, Omar, Tahmeed & RatedRStar. Despite being the theoretical "hero" Considine delivers an absolutely terrifying but also deeply emotional portrayal of a man with a single unrelenting focus. 

Best Scene: His "Party".

Updated Overall

Next: Backlog

Alternate Best Actor 2004: Yuya Yagira in Nobody Knows

Yuya Yagira did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning CANNES, for portraying Akira Fukushima in Nobody Knows. 

Nobody Knows follows a family of children abandoned by their mother (You). 

Yuya Yagira plays the oldest of the children, although oldest though still very much a child, who is charged with initial responsibilities of taking care of the other children and running essential chores like grocery shopping. Yagira’s performance is one of those child performances, where the notion of it being on any alternative level instantly leaves your mind. There are no traits of anything related to weaker children turns, he’s wholly within every scene instantly, though this shouldn’t be too surprising given the film is directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda who has a particular knack for getting strong work out of his child performers. Yagira’s performance is remarkable by the way we see the face of the boy but often there is the spirit of the man. As much as his features obviously are of youth, his eyes are from a much older person, as we almost instantly are granted the history between Akira and his mother. Unlike the other children who are still in a state of accepting essentially the reality presented to them by their mother, Akira very much knows the facts of the reality, and that is something we see in Yagira’s face. There are no illusions about it, even when she speaks initially with a phony “sell” about their situation, we see in every reaction from Yagira the absolute reality of the situation without a hint of delusion. The years of coming to terms is in this little boy, whose mother in no way is allowing him a child’s levity in his life. 

Yagira’s performance often is working within silences of his existence, where he skillfully emphasizes the way this is just the only way of life for Akira at this time. There is a certain passivity that still remains dynamic in his performances as he goes about his “chores” which are far more the actions of an adult maintaining his family. When we see him at the convenience store he carries a weight in his actions of routine, a routine of the many years of going through these motions of his life that isn’t at all the life of what a boy should be. Even when he is temporarily taken by the shop wrongly believing he shoplifted toys from the store, though in fact other boys in the store planted the toys in his bag, Yagira’s delivering is stating his case simply that he didn’t steal anything, however he doesn’t becomes distressed nor does he becomes desperate. Rather there is a knowing quality of this just being another problem in his life problems, and only puts up a basic defense before being saved by another worker at the store who actually saw what happened. Yagira wonderfully is able to genuinely embody someone taking it all inside which is so incredible because he still has the face of this young boy however with the real burden of so much more. One particularly incredible moment comes when his mother is making yet another excuse for why she will be away, and Yagira’s truly exasperated delivery of essentially calling her a bad person and mother, has such a powerful impact. Yagira’s words cut through with those years of her making excuses and the pent up dismay releases itself in that moment. 

Unfortunately Akira’s verbal attack just leads to more nonsense from his mom who seems to fully disappear leaving Akira to now fully try to take care of his other siblings. A task which is beyond a boy with limited resources and Yagira’s performance becomes a fascinating chimera between youth and age. There are moments of genuine warmth where we see him trying to cheer up his siblings, such as emphasizing the reality of Santa Claus. Yagira’s fantastic in his ability to balance this combination between playing the dad and also being the child himself in these moments. He is able to naturally segue between an attempt at maturity, the boy just having fun, but also a bit of a struggle within it to try to rectify the two sides of the situation. The strength of Yagira’s performance is how natural it all is despite how specific every moment of his life is. We follow him as the difficulty of the situation eats away at him. That quiet exasperation being the exasperation of someone truly older, and what ends up becoming an escape is Akira trying to make friends, and in turn act like just a normal boy his age. Yagira, even in these largely silent moments, or at most the dialogue is largely just kids interacting with one another, realizes this strange dichotomy. Where the boy is just being a boy, yet even in these interactions of just trying to play, there’s more so of a nagging quality in his eyes in his physical manner of someone who knows just playing is in some way a failure on his part to meet his responsibilities. There’s no simplicity in Yagira’s performance as he emphasizes the forced unnatural state of being so naturally. 

A contrasting idea to the moments of being the boy is when we see him looking for any kind of help, particularly from the men he thinks may be fathers. Yagira is so matter of fact in every moment, he isn’t playing it as a son seeking a father so much, as just someone desperately but quietly and sincerely looking for some source of help for his family. There’s a degree of shyness but even more so this direct maturity where as much as you sense he’s keeping it inside, the pain of the situation is something you see just sitting with him. The situation continues to essentially exacerbate consistently and where we see Akira’s own resolve fading as he does, which should never have been an outside notion for him, he starts to play around more as a kid himself. Whether it is with his questionable friends, who shoplift and dismiss his smell, or finding time in a baseball field, Yagira artfully shows the boy coming out more, but still a strange imperfection even then. There is no freedom of the situation at any point fully, even as he is playing on the baseball field earnestly, in a way a boy should, but Akira can’t due to the selfish nature of his parents. He’s never quite pure and the burden is there even when he’s desperately trying to escape it. Something that becomes all too evident when the family is faced with a tragedy bound to happen given the situation. Yagira’s performance throughout this sequence is very moving, albeit not in an overly emotional way in the way you might expect. The pain though is very real, though painful in the way you see that even how he interacts with the grief still has a distance of someone who can only do so much and still even in this is taking on responsibilities that should never have been his own. The tragedy of it is all the more difficult because we see that in his moments here his reaction isn’t of true change, as their situation is as desperate despite the harrowing circumstances. Yagira still presents the dutiful nature of Akira struggling his way through being an “adult” he should’ve never had to be. It is a captivating and powerful performance, one that exists on just the truth, a theoretically idiosyncratic truth, however not for a second does it feel like acting, or unnatural, it feels like a deeply painful reality thanks to Yuya Yagira outstanding performance. 

Alternate Best Actor 2004: Paddy Considine in Dead Man's Shoes

Paddy Considine did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Richard in Dead Man’s Shoes.

Dead Man’s Shoes follows a man returning to his hometown to seek revenge for the mistreatment of his younger intellectually challenged brother Anthony (Toby Kebbell). 

The underrated Paddy Considine, though that seems likely it might finally be changing somewhat, has a most unusual role here both as a leading man and as the specifics of the role unravel/realize itself. As if you were to hear the basic description of the film you’d think Richard is a hero who is set to go about seeking a righteous revenge against those who wronged his brother, however you’d be dead wrong to take that view. The film takes an atypical approach as in a way it is as frequently from the perspectives of the idiotic villains who are sorta a gang, but more accurately a group of half wits who hang around in a small town. They in a way are granted frequently the more traditional human perspective, despite being obviously flawed morons, as the story unfolds. Considine on the other hand enters the film a bit like a pale rider as we see him walking with purpose towards the town. Considine’s physicality being key to the entirety of his work, as a fundamental brilliant choice. Considine’s march here is fascinating as the way he walks so enclosed within himself, yet so distinctly there is an innate intensity about it, even as Considine performs it with an ease where you don’t even second guess it. Considine presenting in just this walk a man with a mission, a man in a certain headspace and the history of the man who had just obviously come out of the army having seen more than a few things in his life. 

The first action of his Richard is to enter the local pub, seemingly with his brother in tow, where he comes across Herbie, one of the least impressive of the impressive crew who comes into the bar. Considine’s stare down towards the man is the start of honestly one of the most terrifying performances I’ve seen which subverts many expectations because one he’s our theoretical hero and two what he technically is doing seemingly is right, yet how it proceeds ends up feeling wrong. Even in this as Herbie tries to play the tough guy by asking “What are you looking at”, Considine’s brilliant delivery of more than a rabid dog, rather a dog whose already sinking his teeth into a man’s jugular, of “you yah cunt” doesn’t just put the man at unease it puts us at unease as well. Considine sunken within his army uniform, and the wild eyed look that doesn’t lose a bit of his intensity as the man slinks away like a dog, fashions a kind of outsider of a figure, one that you’d pass by randomly in the less ideal part of a neighborhood, someone you know is dangerous and don’t want to have much to do with. This man though is a “hero” though, even as Considine plays with this notion again and again, in ways that knocks us off any easy sense of comfort just as it does with the men he is coming to terrorize. 

After the exchange there’s a hint of a demented glee in Considine’s eyes, but not something that gives you any more comfort, even if there is the sense of a game of Richard. Something that we get quickly finds more layers to when Richard goes to the same man with an apology, where Considine performs it as a seemingly less harmful mentally not quite there man. Considine putting on the front for a moment though even within that there is this chaotic quality just beneath the surface of the act that denotes even this as part of the game to play with the men. Where we see Considine observing the men the danger of him becomes all the more evident, where there is an intention in his eyes, and even more this disturbing calm of a man conducting a specific military operation. The group of idiots eventually figure out who Richard is and their de facto leader Sonny (Gary Stretch) decides to take some kind of action against him. The first major confrontation scene being Sonny going up to Richard and trying to intimidate him. Considine is outstanding in this scene in the specific energy he creates where he takes disrespect to new levels as he barely looks at him. As Sonny tries to be the tough guy and I just adore Considine’s way of “taking in” the threats with the least serious essentially “oh you’re a big guy” disregard for every threat. There’s more though as Considine is basically burning from the inside out with his real intention barely something he can hold in. When he notes he's not threatening, Considine just speaks truth in a way violent promises are rarely made through a performance. 

Considine’s clap back scene should be legendary as clap backs go, from just his way of indicating that Sonny is in his hand where Considine implements his intensity with such a ferocious specificity. Before then finally turning to Sonny and letting him know exactly what he will do. Considine brings the searing rage into every word of his insults to Sonny and you see more than anger, there is a fundamental hatred, however a hatred of the man as though he sees him as just filth he will be cleaning up soon enough. Something that quickly realizes itself as the idiots attempt to later confront him with some actual weapons, where Considine’s performance is just dismissive towards them even when they’re aiming a gun his way. Considine weaponizes the disrespect still towards the men, but within the action the glimpses of Richard’s insanity. As walks towards them welcoming any attack from them with a complete calm. Considine’s eyes are of a man in so many ways around the bend, and with that psychotic intensity, even if it is technically towards men who are seemingly deserving of this treatment. Where we take the next step in Richard’s plan and he goes for his revenge directly, and we find out what Richard is truly capable of. 

But before that throughout the film we have various moments where Richard is spending time with Anthony away from the situation. Moments where they seem to reflect back on their lives and even just casually being with one another. Considine makes the absolute most of these scenes because while Considine is calm in a scary way in other scenes, here we see a man with some genuine calm in terms of his soul. Considine brings such a natural warmth in these moments where he speaks to Kebbell in a specific loving, wistful but also haunted way. Within the conversations Considine’s performance still has a weight of it, though here the weight of memory. His delivery has actual loving sense in it and you get the glimpse of a man appreciating life if just for a bit. Considine finds such a natural balance and poignancy in these moments however because he sets up the twist within them, while also hiding it. Which is that Anthony is dead before the film begins and Richard is talking to no one. What Considine shows in these scenes then still is the same demented state, but really the purer motivation of that state. As Considine is quietly heartbreaking in showing the quiet sincerity of what Richard did get out of the relationship with his brother, and more specifically why stripping that from him would be so fundamentally cruel. I love that Considine in no way makes it this perfect relationship, the differences between the two are still fundamental, but regardless it was pivotal for Richard’s connection to humanity. 

Speaking of a lack of humanity, we follow Richard as he’s drugged the main members of the crew who were supposedly preparing to go kill Richard but are instead left in a daze. The sudden appearance of Considine among them is honestly terrifying when you see the intention in his eyes as Richard is nearly done playing with food and is ready to chomp down. There is visceral brutality within Considine’s work where he is unsettling just watch as he maneuvers around the scene more so as a personification of death stalking his next target. Within that we have a different side as he dispatches each man. Starting with Sonny where Considine shows the most blunt brutality of it all and there is the manner of the man as though he is just disposing of garbage he casually bags the man’s head before shooting him dead. When another of the men is dazed trying to leave in fear, Considine is unnerving in the rabid way he does grant the man leave, leave to die and the complete lack of hesitation within Considine’s work makes Richard horrifying despite technically killing bad men. This leaves only Herbie, and Considine somehow is even more off-putting as he smiles and puts on a little charm to pry information on the remaining member of the gang. Considine’s delivery is horrifying as the sense of the danger is ever present as even his “kind” way of speaking each word you see in his eyes that he is just letting the man on. Even showing the man another of his victims so matter-of-factly Considine emphasizes every bit of psychological torture to perfection. We see a man utterly in control in a way that as much as these were horrible men, Considine makes the vengeance as disturbing as their crimes. Particularly when Herbie is done telling him the info and Richard gives him a bit of hope saying he’d let him live. The switch in Considine from the fake smile to unbridled rage as he dispatches the man is such a chilling realization of Richard’s specific insanity. 

With all the men dead Richard seeks the final man, Mark, who unlike the other men has not only moved on to start a family, but we see that Mark is a regretful onlooker who is filled with shame for what he was part of and failed to stop. And if somehow we were comfortable with our violent “hero” the rest of the film, the greatest challenge comes as we see Richard trying to prompt the man towards his own death. We even have a moment where he mocks Anthony seemingly to get Mark to mock him with him to enact the final step of his plan, however Mark stands firm in his regrets. Considine is truly amazing as we see Richard now unravel as he speaks of the situation openly to the man even admitting to becoming the monster to enact his vengeance. A careful contrast to a late brief flashback where we see Richard attending Anthony’s funeral, and Considine makes the most of the silent moment as you see such simple sadness in a lonely man. Contrasting what that sadness led to as we see Richard now wholly deranged, where Considine is all too believable in the wildly intense swings between his rage, sadness, shame and even self-hatred as he prompts Mark to kill him instead. Considine makes this moment heartbreaking and horrifying because every emotion is as natural as the next, but all in this complete mess where the man’s anguish has never been more tangible. Considine reveals the best and worst of Richard in this terrible dance of the man’s face as he’s racked with guilt, yet wholly broken by it all. Considine portrait of revenge is truly unlike any other. Where we have the qualities of the cool or badass hero. He is a badass, he has that violent calm many attribute to your usual revenge seeking hero. His intensity is equal to so many characters many often would find cool. What Considine does though is tip it that much further to create such a disturbing yet wholly human sense of the festering emotions and real psychotic rage needed for a man to take such a dark and unforgiving path. A performance of such visceral power which never sugarcoats any notion, instead forces you into a place of fear just to witness him.