Alternate Best Actor 1990: Nicolas Cage in Wild At Heart

Nicolas Cage did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying “Sailor” Ripley in Wild At Heart.

Wild At Heart follows two young lovers as they try to run away from one of their vengeful mothers. 

Early Nicolas Cage is his own beast entirely and not even the established "Nouveau Shamanic" who we have a whole different set of expectations of. Early Nicolas Cage is sheer madness that likely could’ve never existed without his family connections, in that just quite literally he would’ve been fired from Peggy Sue Getting Married, yet the world would’ve less for it. As young Cage has quite frankly an ambition of insanity that few young actors would’ve ever attempted to have tried in his approach to each and every role. And I won’t even say that each and every one was genius, in fact I personally would’ve supported the studio decision with Peggy Sue quite frankly yet even in that misguided performance one could still sense talent beneath the surface of some needlessly bizarre choices. Cage’s journey was perhaps helped by finding some ideal filmmakers to help channeling his energies, first by the off-beat Coen Brothers in Raising Arizona, and then by David Lynch in this film. Lynch being a filmmaker with his own oft used adjective where his films, in a way, are a genre of their own. Where a little bit of insanity in his young performer probably makes sense just to fit in. 

Cage certainly has that bit of insanity intensity here though he’s actually far less dogmatic in his approach than his work in his Uncle’s film. The surface though is that of Elvis which is textually the film any ways since the character of Sailor fashions himself as an Elvis, but what’s even more particular is the fact that Cage as a person is always kind of being a little Elvisy even when he’s not playing an Elvis impersonator. Cage though actually plays two different styles of that wisely in making Sailor as the man and the presentation of Sailor as he presents himself as a public figure. In those latter scenes, including the singing scenes I wouldn’t even say Cage plays Elvis but maybe even more accurately plays the Elvis of Elvis films with the distinct heightened delivery and of course breaking out into your seemingly random song. The physicality of his work is just a live wire of Elvislike movement but taken to a greater extreme that is often quite marvelous to behold here. And under the masterful guidance of David Lynch, Cage’s approach this time around wholly works and there is something quite captivating in his whole presentation as the man who lives life to be Elvis in this way, and lives life his way. He also of course wears a snakeskin jacket which of course is a symbol of one’s individuality and belief in personal freedom, which I love Cage’s perfect delivery of that as a credo he knows by his very soul. 

Now as much as the more expressive elements of Cage’s performance work within the style of Lynch, I think core to the film’s success is within the relationship between Sailor and Lula (Laura Dern). A fairly unique relationship for a film where the connection between the two is both one of extreme lust and love. Dern’s performance in far more ways than ones matches Cage’s energies where they are both these extremes together in a way where it just seems they are made for each other. Yet the pivotal balancing factor exists beyond the moments of intense lust, as much as Cage and Dern play that sense of immediate ferocious attraction and physical pleasure they get out of each other so convincingly and particularly in the way each can so luridly deliver their come on lines and seriously eye…well you enough, each other before getting on to the actual act quite frequently. There is the balance of within that real warmth and connection in the quiet moments they also share where they speak and frankly console each other in dealing with the insanity of their lives, which are naturally complicated by jail, crime, and Lula’s demented mother (Diane Ladd) wanting to either have sex with or kill Sailor. Dern and Cage bring it down wonderfully, still having within even their accents the theoretical extremes, yet tempered well to earn the moments of genuine connection they share in revealing the genuine love the two share. 

Cage offers a very atypical protagonist for going through the trashy noir narrative and in doing so does offer a spark of unpredictability through it yet also creates a strange cohesion. Cage manages to instead find the right approach in certain moments such as dealing with potentially or maybe overtly sinister people like Bobby Peru (Willem Dafoe) trying to pull him in a criminal scheme. Where Cage finds an effective balance through the particular way Sailor Elvises his way through life but with those moments of reflection still of someone who is trying to do right. Cage being an essential part for example of the crime gone wrong, designed for Peru to kill Sailor, where Cage’s reactions match the madness of Dafoe’s performance beautifully in his freakout but humane freakout against the complete grotesque derangement of what Dafoe is doing. Honestly one of my favorite moments of Cage’s performance is his reaction in finding a dying crashed motorist (Sherilyn Fenn), where Cage even within that Elvis voice offers genuine empathy as Sailor tries to help the woman out before succumbing to her wounds. It is those intimacies that help to earn the operatic and really finding a beautiful combination of both such as in the grand finale after getting out of jail due to his attempted robbery with Peru. A finale that does have Cage, rejecting Lula and his young son, “for their own good” beaten by a group of men, get reminded about love by Glinda the Good, then dramatically rush back to them and obviously finally sing “Love me Tender”. That’s a whole lot of swings that somehow are kind of wonderful where Cage is essential as he does go for the grandiose in his declaration of “Lula” at the top of his lungs, yet there is also this strict sincerity when he catches with her, and his delivery of “Love Me Tender”, well tender it is. Cage is an unwieldy energy that Lynch wields ideally. Cage is a whole lot as Sailor, but in a way that works here. Finding a balance where yes Sailor acts like Elvis, but you also completely believe in this man who acts like Elvis, and especially believe in his adoration for the woman he loves. 

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Wojciech Pszoniak in Korczak

Wojciech Pszoniak did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Henryk Goldszmit pen name Janusz Korczak in Korczak.

Korczak depicts the painful time leading up to the deportation of Jewish orphans in the Warsaw Ghetto.

Wojciech Pszoniak plays the writer, teacher and doctor who was best known as Janusz Korczak. The film isn’t about his whole life but rather coming in towards its tragic end as we follow him attempting to navigate the increasingly hostile nature of the occupiers while attempting to create some sense of normalcy for his chief priority, the orphans. Pszoniak’s performance is one that frequently is in contrast to the material at hand that is representative of Korczak’s approach towards the orphanage which is one steadfast support. Pszoniak within these scenes very distinctly presents a combination of intense devotion and endearing warmth as we see Korczak interact with the various orphans in the film. Pszoniak doesn’t put a lot on it, rather just bringing this quiet earnestness within every word he speaks towards them where there is such care about Korczak to each and everyone. Pszoniak granting the purest sense of the man who genuinely wants to help them, truly cares whether that is going about teaching, taking care of them, or attempting to be there as they face literal genocide. 

Pszoniak’s performance provides a combination of qualities though within the warmth which isn’t at all one note, though quite potent even within the idea of purity. As what Pszoniak is able to naturally embody and realize dynamically is the various roles that Korczak does need to take with them. There are the moments where he frankly is that of the storyteller, the man giving life to imagination for them and Pszoniak brings this spirited quality in every word of the man where you are granted the sense in his performance both his enthusiasm to encourage the children but also how much any joy they have seems to fill him with a similar joy. Pszoniak is as effective though when dealing with the older children where he finds a different quality of the teacher where the wisdom is never stern but just calmly more direct. Pszoniak crafting that sense of authority in these moments though an authority that is strictly benevolent in every moment and where he exudes that optimism even as he is guiding his children through some of the most traumatic situations. Pszoniak’s work provides a sense of comfort within the film even when the ever growing darkness surrounding our characters is creating a penetrating dread for the future. 

Korczak is not living within a fantasy as he tries to provide normalcy for the children and tries to comfort them best he can, rather we see that he very much is aware of the reality. Pszoniak’s work is remarkable in a moment relatively early on where he purposefully announces his Jewish heritage, quite frankly in a situation that in no way benefits or protects him. Pszoniak delivers these words in a combination of exasperation towards the callous actions of others but also a passionate conviction that there is absolutely nothing wrong with stating this fact. Pszoniak is able to present someone who firmly lives by his code of morality and even within horrible conditions will still stand up for what he believes in. Pszoniak’s performance delivers the weight of that conviction within his eyes and his manner as just a man straightforward in that directness. He shows that Korczak isn’t here to present some strategy to confuse the abusers, rather just a man who will be as good of a man as he can be even when it is clear he is living in a situation that is defined by moral decay. 

The power of Pszoniak’s performance is creating a convincing man who makes the choice essentially to sacrifice himself in order to offer just a few more moments of comfort for the orphans. We see as the situation becomes more dire and within Pszoniak’s reactions there is a real sense of dread even within Korczak where his awareness of the increasing threats and violence is readily apparent. Pszoniak presents the man coming into the situation with a potent empathy. Pszoniak makes this the overarching feeling in every instance of dealing even with the violence around him and even against him at times. Pszoniak’s manner is that of the man seeking to quietly maintain his dignity while doing his best to serve others. When we get the moment explaining that he will not try to escape so he can be with the orphans Pszoniak speaks these words not with conflict but this most assured determination who simply could not see going about his life any other way. An idea that is fundamental to the final sequence of the film where Korczak calmly leads the children as they are being taken to a train which will bring them to an extermination camp. Pszoniak throughout the sequence isn’t portraying the future but rather the moment of providing a final bit of paternalistic protection in his assured and determined manner. Although we know the truth, one can see the calming presence of Korczak as Pszoniak moves like a shepherd guiding his flock. Wojciech Pszoniak delivers a very good and moving performance where he provides an earnest portrait of a man choosing a pure path within a wretched world. 

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Tim Robbins in Jacob's Ladder

Tim Robbins did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Jacob "Professor" Singer in Jacob’s Ladder.

Jacob’s Ladder follows a former Vietnam vet as he is beset with disturbing visions while living in New York. 

Tim Robbins plays the titular Jacob where we enter the film seeming at the point in any Vietnam war film where things are about to go horribly wrong, which is when everyone has a good time. Robbins portrays largely a sense of camaraderie albeit briefly before all hell breaks loose and everyone seems brutally injured including Jacob himself, where Robbins provides immediate contrast from the warmth of the men joking with one another to viscerally seething pain of Jacob on the ground. We quickly cut to the future where Jacob is alone on a NYC subway and we begin to follow the path of the film. Robbins frequently is very much the average man in this situation and it is not a surprise that Frank Darabont wanted to cast Robbins for The Shawshank Redemption based on this film. Where Shawshank dealt with the immediate real horror of living in prison for a crime you did not commit, this film deals seemingly with something more existential, however in both Robbins’s work excels in offering an essential anchor of humanity. Robbins is the emotional guide for the film, something that is immediately tested when the tired man coming home from work is struck by seemingly a strange growth coming out of another subway passenger before seeing haunting images within the subway after he escapes the situation. Robbins importantly grounds these horrors which will be throughout the film through creating the progression of the situation as we see in his reactions, the first just considerable unease that jumps to more overt horror, but still as a man who thinks he just might be seeing something. 

Although not all seems to be going poorly for Jacob as he seems in a rather steamy relationship with a woman Jezzie (Elizabeth Peña), who seems to want to soothe Jacob. And for this moment it seems normal enough of a loving couple and I’d say it is important that Robbins brings this sense of normalcy in these moments as though Jacob is just living his life. There’s almost an immediate complication when shown a picture of his old family that died in the war. Robbins is truly great in the moment of looking at the picture and talking about them because almost instantly he brings such a strong sense of both the grief of their loss but also the comfort in their loss. His reaction isn’t just sadness, there's a palatable sense of love in every word of his delivery and his eyes. This makes the immediacy in which Jezzie decides to incinerate the picture more than a little questionable though she claims she essentially doesn’t like things that make him sad. We then follow Jacob as he tries to exist with a certain strangeness to everything, even seeing his chiropractor Louie (Danny Aiello) while friendly and warm seems almost a bit too ethereal. Although Jacob should wish for the ethereal back specialist when he begins to see one strange sight after another in the streets. In each instance Robbins’s performance captures the sheer intensity of the sights and the immediacy of their horror. 

The film then progresses in a state of insanity essentially as we suddenly shift between disparate elements. Occasionally we will have Jezzie concerned about Jacob, another she’s dancing with a literal demon, we will suddenly be in the memory of his old comforting home life with his deceased family, before being back to the horror. The sort of through line within this is Jacob’s character believing he and his other fellow survivors were part of some sort of government experiment that has left them broken. Robbins to his credit manages to weave all of this together to a core of a convincing performance where he embodies a distinct human element that could’ve been lost if we did not believe Jacob as a person going through all this above all else. Robbins brings a differentiation between moments of the more subtle horror where he finds this seething anxiety within his expression, that in a way seems the most terrifying. Robbins finds that sense in his reactions of just not feeling right like when he finds that his old mental health doctor apparently died in an explosion. Contrasting that though he is as believable in his bigger, but earned, reactions to the more overt horror by matching that more overt horror in his eyes as a man who has seen such strange terrible things. Yet he succeeds in being just the believable man suffering potentially from PTSD in the scenes with Jezzie at home where he brings a quieter vulnerability, or the moments with the old family where Robbins is quite moving in creating the real sense of warmth in those scenes. 

The film becomes a build then in overt horror and the intensity behind the trauma, the conspiracy and the horror. Where Robbins is effective in going from 10 to 11 as Jacob begins to fully lose it, sometimes with just a convincing frustration such as when he demands to know why his lawyer (George Costanza) has decided to drop the case to investigate the government, or eventually the truly petrifying fear when a hospital visit becomes seemingly a literal descent into hell. Robbins brings throughout that sequence, Rock Hudson in Seconds, a raw rush of rabid emotions that become all the more intense within the state of being held in place in his horror. Where Robbins elevates the imagery by matching the horror of it with his own expressions of a man going through this place. Robbins earns the growing tension up till a point of someone totally lost and in turn providing true relief when it seems like he saved by Louie who tells him he must spoilers accept his own death in order to escape the demons. I would say this whole aspect of the film is probably where Robbins is most essential as the imagery could carry much but there needs to be something genuine in the acceptance of death. Robbins delivers on this while also not seeming to light comparatively. In the scene where he climbs the titular ladder with his deceased son, Robbins has a deft touch in realizing the combination of sorrow and sincerity. Robbins shows the grief of all that is lost including himself as he speaks to his son, yet this is naturally softened where Robbins portrays the real connection and warmth within the relationship with his son. Robbins earns the moment of solace and turning a theoretical horror ending into something a bit more hopeful. 

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Jacky Cheung & Tony Leung in Bullet in the Head

Jacky Cheung and Tony Leung did not receive Oscar nominations for portraying Fai Jai “Frank” and Ah Bee “Ben” respectively in Bullet in the Head. 

Bullet in the Head is an over the top action movie combined with a technically a war epic as we follow a group of friends from Hong Kong who decide to make their fortune by going to Vietnam during the Vietnam war. 

The film opens with a combination between the youthful joys of playing around, music, possible romance and gang violence. We are introduced to the three friends including the great Tony Leung as the romantic of the group, Ben, who seems potentially as the leader, followed by Jacky Cheung’s Frank as slightly more seeming wildcard in the character’s particular exuberance towards life, and Little Wing aka Sau ming aka Paul played by Waise Lee who begins seemingly is happy just to hang out with his friends. The initial scenes are effective in establishing the camaraderie between the three guys who are in the state between childhood and adulthood where even the gang violence in a way feels like a part of a certain lack of maturity. The three performers though are quite good in presenting the innate warmth and initial joy of life in the connection between them. There’s an ease in all their interactions that really sells the notions of this childhood connection of friendship even as they very much are no longer men. Notably this energy is found in their performances even in the gang fights where they present the same joy about it as anything else as very much just part of what they do, as strange as that might sound.

Leung even as a slightly younger performer still very much had that star charisma, something that was remarkably shown the same year in the Days of Being Wild where just getting doing theoretically mundane things was captivating. Leung obviously has a more substantial role and makes use of it. Bringing that charisma to the role where he establishes the certain joys of participating in the pop culture at the time, but also the romantic connection with his eventual wife Jane (Fennie Yuen). He has an easy charm but also even more importantly this quietly internalized sense of devotion and nuance to those around him in that intimacy that honestly became one of Leung’s great trademarks. As big as this film begins and will become, Leung offers still that quietly powerful presence. Cheung on the other hand is very much about the wild energy he brings. A notable moment as such is when Frank is running to Ben’s wedding he runs afoul of a rival gang. Cheung in the scene brings this odd but effective optimistic manner even in a violent situation where there’s a strange sincerity just as there is a mania as he goes about not only taking the attack, going so far as to act like it is nothing to Ben when he finally does arrive at the wedding. Cheung in the moment captures this convincing embrace of whatever is thrown out at him in the moment, albeit only for this moment. 

Ben and Frank seeking revenge for that slight, leading to the death of a rival gang member, leads the trio to seek their fortune by delivering arms to Vietnam. Before he leaves though Ben has to say goodbye to his wife, where again not too much time has been spent on the relationship but frankly Leung doesn’t need it. He just brings immediately the burden of that connection that even as his wife stays back in Hong Kong, the weight of it is so brazen in Leung’s eyes as we see he will keep going regardless. When they enter into Vietnam the group is almost immediately faced with acts of terrorism than brutal reactions by the local government where they’re caught into interrogation. This swing represents the film’s curious tone that 9 times out of 10 I would say wouldn’t work, and I’m not 100% sure why it does here, but it largely does. One reason may be the gravitas offered by the cast particularly Leung who is quite amazing in these scenes in capturing just how immediately harrowing everything is, however Cheung and Lee for that matter also support in these earlier moments. We enter into a world of insanity however as the boys try to make a deal, however it gets trickier as Ben begins to empathize with a prostitute Sally (Yolinda Yam) who works for the crime lord they’re supposed to be selling to, however they do find help with a cool hitman Luke (Simon Lam) who also wants to help Sally. 

Within that scheme Leung again is terrific in creating instant investment in his silent reactions to Sally where you see that haunted quality in him thinking of his own wife, and whenever the film focuses on his reactions towards her he is very moving. Cheung though presents someone kind of within the insanity of things and maybe becoming a bit lost in himself. Where Cheung brings that intensity of the chaotic energy and increases it a bit more as we get to the captivating if totally mad action scenes as the group and Luke take down the gangster, however this leads to them making a run for it into hostile territory, and for Paul to become obsessed with his treasure chest full of gold he pilfered from the crime boss. Through these shifts we made our first dramatic shift where for me there was a fissure between Leung and Cheung. The first coming in as both admonish Paul for his greed, threatening their friendship and throwing some of his gold away. Leung brings such intense specific and wholly convincing intensity. Cheung goes very big, something he’ll keep doing as the film goes on, and his mania starts to begin feeling more like an actor just going wild than wholly this character losing it. 

Things get even crazier as the three are caught by the Vietcong and to take an extreme even more than the Deer Hunter they are forced to shoot other prisoners by the demented soldiers. The scene nonetheless seems designed to capture that level of desperation. I have to be honest I thought Cheung’s face contortions to show his emotional instability I felt just got ridiculous at this point and what I did like about his performance earlier felt just wholly overcooked even in the extremes of the film. For me this was made all the more obvious by Tony Leung’s performance which stayed absolutely convincing and emotionally penetrating in every scene. Including this one where Leung honestly delivers one of his very best scenes as an actor, which given his pedigree that is quite notable, where he is forced by the Vietcong to aim at Frank. While Cheung I think goes for a very over the top route where his facial expressions just keep getting bigger, Leung is able to deliver real pathos where he too is presenting this laughing mania of the lunacy of the scene, while his eyes are delivering the extreme nature of the heartbreak just as his delivery of the word bring such a profound urgency of his friend trying desperately to calm his friend despite the hopelessness of the moment. 

An attack saves the men only sort of as both Ben and Frank take a bullet from the gold obsessed Paul who goes full Bogart. Frank’s being in the head like the title which forces him to speed run Christopher Walken’s arc from The Deer Hunter, in again a scene where I didn’t find Cheung particularly convincing as the man lost in essentially his trauma and literal brain damage, rather I saw the overacting of a performer going for the most intense facial expressions that weren’t overly convincing. Again Leung though saved the scene, if also made the deficiencies of Cheung’s acting all the more evident, as in his quietly pained reactions do we see such sorrow of a lost friendship and is heartbreaking especially in the moment where Frank asks Ben to mercy kill him. Leung delivers on the severity of this situation and creates the real punctuation of it where you sense the tragedy of the loss with the old warmth and love for his friend. All of this leaving only the return to Hong Kong and revenge to avenge the loss of one friend by killing the former friend. Leung’s great in creating the changed man that is Ben in this final act, with the moment with his wife where there is no longer the wistful romance but just the haunted man searching for vengeance. In the vengeance itself, Leung could just make it an action scene yet he brings such vibrant emotion to every moment of it showing the ferocity of a man not just taking action for the sake of his friend but also the sense of betrayal of the very idea of friendship. Although that is just another instance of the powerful anchor Leung is throughout the film. Every scene is one where he elevates the material, and convinces you of the emotion even in this wild swings featured in the film’s wavering tone. 

(Cheung)

(Leung)

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Robin Williams in Awakenings

Robin Williams did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning NBR and being nominated for a Golden Globe, for portraying Dr. Malcolm Sayer in Awakenings. 

It speaks to the taste of at least a swathe of the academy in 1990 that within Robin Williams’s run with them from his first nomination in 1987 to his win in 1997 that they ignored him for this turn, despite the film being a top five favorite. Of course the obvious answer to this question is they nominated Robert De Niro for portraying the first man awakened by the experimental drug used on catatonic patients. Where we get the contrasting choice of performances where De Niro’s is the most overtly actorly performance in the film against Williams giving probably his most subtle turn from his initial breakout. In all of Williams’s Oscar nominated performance, before and after this film, there was a degree of Williams relying on his stand up presence overtly, something that made sense in some instances, Good Morning Vietnam where he played a comedic DJ, more than others, Dead Poet’s Society where Mr. Keating suddenly whips out Brando and Wayne impressions despite the character in no way acting like his sensibility during the rest of the film. Williams forgoes his expected Robin Williams persona fully and effectively though that doesn’t mean he entirely relieves himself of talents related to it. 

Williams constructs a specific character here that does utilize aspects of his talents one would’ve found in his stand-up performances, but entirely in service to the part. The impression abilities noted in his stand-up are featured here but wound naturally within the character of Dr. Sayer, as what Williams does here is technically taking upon the mannerisms of the real man which the character is based on Oliver Sacks, though I think one of the best decisions, in the long term, the film probably made was to rename the character. Williams though utilizes it well to convincingly establish the introverted initial research scientist. Where Williams consistently creates the certain mannerisms naturally into his performance within his very withdrawn and specific physical manner of the man always backing off it would seem, looking down, and almost hiding within himself. An aspect further emphasized in his cadence that is very different from Williams’s frequent larger than life delivery, as brings to life Dr. Malcolm Sayer in earnest. He very much does construct him using those impression skills yet funnels them all properly into the character in a way that just further brings him to life and more immediately grants us a sense of who this guy is before he even takes on what is known as the chronic ward. 

Williams’s performance is effective in creating the struggle initially of Sayer as a man who struggles to connect with humans dealing with patients who often seemingly have no connection whatsoever. In fact his greatest enthusiasm early on is in a failed experiment with worms which is played for a comedic moment however it is easy to appreciate Williams creating the humor of the moment not by falling out of character but rather just showing purely who Sayer is by presenting this earnestness specifically in such a narrow decidedly non-human focus. Williams earns it all the more though by presenting genuine unease in the initial moments of dealing with suddenly hostile patients in the ward, which are the ones who bother to respond to Sayer, but also presenting this very subdued yet potent sense of empathy as he examines the catatonic patients. Williams does a lot with just his eyes in presenting the humanity within Sayer as he focuses on each person and senses that there may be more going on than just a hollow shell as many of his colleagues seem to suggest the people are. Projecting honesty within the moments of discovery certain specific reactions from the patients with this combination of surprise, fascination but also empathetic revelation. 

Eventually Sayer discovers enough to find an experimental drug he tests on one patient to see if it might cure them of their catatonic state, which it does for a man called Leonard (De Niro) who went into the state as a boy. This is where the film mostly shifts focus to De Niro portraying Leonard regaining his ability to communicate and then eventually slowly goes back to his state, in what, for me, sadly feels more so an actor’s showcase than something where I truly felt this was a person the whole time. Williams is very good though in accepting very much the part of the reactor to the seeming miracle change then tragic change. He never tries to make it about himself here, rather allowing himself to be the facilitator and the observer, in a dynamic way however in a way that very much opens the floor to whoever he's acting with in a given scene. Williams delivers a quiet passion in the moments of advocating for change. An interesting combination between anxiety and inspiration when seeing Leonard trying to embrace life that he seemingly is too meek to do so himself, and maybe most importantly brings such a palatable sense of warmth and fierce concern when Leonard starts to falter even lashing out at Sayer directly at one point. A scene that is over the top in many ways, but Williams is not one of them, as his taken aback reaction followed by a certain delivery of not wanting Leonard blamed feel so genuine even when the scene as a whole is not. Williams acts a convincing facilitator even for the inspirational final “what I learned” speech he’s given, which quite frankly eventually became a Robin Williams specific actor cliche as much as Brad Pitt’s eating, Tom Cruise’s running or Tom Hanks’s urinating. Regardless of where it would go I will say Williams does deliver to the best of his abilities in this instance by not overplaying it rather just bringing the quiet earnest passion that is bigger than what we saw at the start of the film, yet still feels true to the modest by nature character. Even in the character arc complete moment shortly later where Sayer asks one of the nurses out, Williams finds the right way to present Sayer’s directness. He speaks with a greater certainty for Sayer, he’s still very quiet, still largely internalized, yet earns the moment of the doctor embracing humans a bit more after his experience with the patients. Although I won’t say Awakenings is a great film, Williams does deliver one of his best dramatic turns by calming his more extroverted sensibilities to deliver a nuanced and genuine performance that better than anyone in the cast delivers honesty within the very sentimental approach of the film.

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Jason Patric in After Dark, My Sweet

Jason Patric did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Kevin "Kid" Collins in After Dark, My Sweet. 

After Dark, My Sweet follows a noir style plot as an ex-boxer gets involved with a widow and a kidnapping plot. 

Jason Patric is not an actor I’ve taken too much note of in the past. He’s good in some things, fine in others, less fine in others as well. His performance here however is the type that instantly changes one’s perspective on the level of potential an individual actor has. Patric is going for broke from really the first scene as we enter in on his Kid Collins in a live wire of a performance. A performance that’s interesting because where the common evocation of an actor towards the old usually is Marlon Brando, Patric here truly feels like Montgomery Clift and I mean that as the highest compliment. There’s that kind of burden of life within his intensity that is so remarkable by how much ease Patric brings within it despite technically being a mannered performance. There is no buy into Patric though as he simply is Collins from this first scene where the Kid meets an attractive widow Fay (Rachel Ward) at a dingy bar. Patric’s physical manner of this semi-shyness combined with the specific slightly rattled delivery instantly conveys the state of a man who had recently been in a mental institute. There’s an immediate vulnerability in his delivery but also a “hat in hand” modesty of someone who is actively trying not to offend. I especially love his uneasy way of trying to ask to stay in the bar after the rough bartender tells him to get out. Patric’s meekness is so sincere and conveys the experience of someone who has been pushed out by most, brushed off by many and is filled with doubt for himself. 

The widow takes enough interest with him to allow Kid to stick around a bit longer and even get an invite from the widow to work for her. An invite that is more than a little suspicious to the point even the aimless Kid doubts it. Patric conveys so effectively the sense of the Kid’s state of being lost to the point of convincing one why he’d even consider such a shady proposition, as in his eyes there’s an innate exhaustion and even more so the need for some kind of connection in his life. A connection that Patric manages to make this center of anxiety in his performance that is captivating to watch because he makes it such a penetrating state succeeding in realizing as an unlikely but compelling lead to watch as he gets pulled in by Fay who gives him some mixed signals yet still pulls him by indicating her need for him. Patric’s performance shows within his reactions just how much any notice means towards the troubled mind of the Kid, where he so naturally presents the waves of anxiety within the Kid’s damaged state that would compel him to one minute go deeper into Fay’s sway, then pull back the next. The nature of Fay’s needs though immediately becomes even darker with the appearance of a former lawman and co-conspirator Uncle Bud (played by the rarely trustworthy Bruce Dern). The two together seemingly being quite obvious in their request for a patsy as they speak of a plan to kidnap the sickly son of a wealthy family. 

An idea that seems even obvious to Kid’s rattled mind that he attempts to leave at one point only running into an imperious yet seemingly caring Doctor (George Dickerson) who quickly diagnoses him and makes his own determinations for the kid. Patric is consistently great in the way he manages to pull you into the Kid’s state even in the scenes where the doctor is very much dictating the commands towards what the Kid should do, frequently leaving the Kid only to react in silence. Patric never wastes a moment of silence though as you see the weariness pierce within the man’s mind and the sense of a dread around the doctor’s suggestions, despite the doc seemingly trying to help the Kid. Patric conveying the unease of the man as the patient trapped within this state, which we see was likely caused by his injuries as a once somewhat successful boxer, that he convinces you entirely that the kid would run from the doc’s help back to the strange scheme of Bud and Fay. Where in this relationship Patric presents this initial attempted spark of the man attempting to literally find his mental bearings and there is something so powerful in Patric’s performance by so viscerally bringing the sense of that struggle to life. When he initially speaks a little more coherently and directly to Fay, Patrick brings to reality each fidget as the barrier, and the pain the man is going through just to even attempt to confidently speak for even a moment at first. 

Once the Kid becomes entrenched in the strange scheme Patric’s performance becomes the enigma that anchors the film. A challenging prospect in itself as keeping a mystery within your lead character so overtly yet still finding reason to invest within him. In Patric’s often mystifying stare he does just that where there ends up being a captivating lead to follow through his mind as much as the plot. Patric achieves one of the trickiest of ideas within a performance which is creating internal logic within a character who is mentally bent. Patric never seems lost or vague, even when technically the Kid’s behaviors are of a lost man and could be described as vague to those trying to understand. As we see him go along with the plot yet even within that the Kid takes a strange purposeful detour as he initially kidnaps the wrong kid, even having a strange on the same level dialogue with that kid before kidnapping the correct target. Patric’s performance is odd by dynamic in that oddness where you see the Kid going within this strange flow of existence where in the moment he knows what he’s doing is what he needs to do, as we see in this peculiar conviction in his eyes even as he purposefully bungles the plot before eventually going along with it that Patric manages to make sense of the jumbled nature of the man. 

There is a progression, as curious as it is, where Patric presents a growing control of the situation by the Kid even as he keeps Fay and Bud guessing. Such as his delivery of questioning Bud’s motivations and just where he’ll be willing to go by speaking this monologue on a devious scenario. Patric manages to be direct just as he’s wavering where you could take it as the ramblings of a man just speaking whatever comes to mind, or the very precise recitation of an idea in order to gauge exactly who Bud is. We see this progression of the Kid where Patric manages to bring this greater sense of control yet in his physical manner and his eyes especially there is still an unquestionable unpredictability. The scenes where he kind of takes charge and has sex with Fay, Patric’s performance is fascinating in the way even as he becomes more direct in the intensity as he takes hold of her quite literally while taking hold of the situation, there’s still this messiness about it, where the Kid is finding a path but he’s in no way altogether controlled. An element all the more obvious when the doctor comes to visit, seeing the kidnapped kid, leading the Kid to fatally punch the doctor. Patric’s amazing in the moment because you see the command loosen towards sudden sparking viciousness of the mentally broken man lashing out. It doesn’t feel like a regression rather just part of the overall raw nerve that the Kid never loses. 

The finale becomes a series of mostly unfortunate events and one fortunate event. Patric’s performance fashioned almost a presentation of a man playing the role of the noir lead as the Kid goes through these motions, less with an overt determination and more so with the manner of the man who sees no other choice in the moment. All goes to hell but The Kid, Fay and the child escape via an unexpected fortunate moment of a cop letting the Kid go due to recognizing him from his old boxing days. Nonetheless the respite still leaves the Kid into a corner as he is still named as the primary suspect and essentially with nowhere to go. We get the Kid though making one clear decision to find a way for Fay to escape by essentially presenting himself as the villain. A sequence where Patric is simply outstanding as the Kid gets enough of a hold of himself to portray himself as a sinister genius who fakes his mental illness in order to escape judgement and has been going along with one crime after another. Patric’s fantastic because he can even convince you of this in the moment where every word flows with an eerie conviction and suddenly the Kid seems assured as he speaks with such vile sincerity. Patric’s as wonderful in telling the truth where just in his facial reactions you see the moment of the lost man come back as he sets himself up, and you see the truth again of the man just trying to find some kind of purpose in the end albeit in a way that would only make sense entirely to him. Patric delivers a truly great performance here because within his own work he is captivating in that mystery, and as much as there is still ambiguity within it, there is a deft touch and connection that brings us into this fascinating mess of a mind all the same.  

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Al Pacino in The Godfather Part III

Al Pacino did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite being nominated for a Golden Globe, for portraying Michael Corleone in The Godfather Part III.

The Godfather Part III marks the only time Al Pacino did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Michael Corleone despite the film’s rather considerable success with the academy despite its far less than glowing reception even at the time of its release. The film almost immediately reveals one of its fundamental flaws which is the characterization of Michael. We ended with Michael in the last film as the man who successfully destroyed all his enemies, yet alienated his entire family either entirely or into a cold submission and we saw the man fully in power yet wholly alone. Cut to this film he seems to have reasonably strong connections with his family, he’s making jokes at family functions, even his ex-wife Kay (Diane Keaton)’s reactions to him aren’t nearly as strong as you’d think they should be. This is not the man we were left with, or as Annie Wilkes might say to Michael’s terrified brother “He Didn't Get Out of the Cockadoodie Car!”. This sequel gives us something it never earned, and it doesn’t earn here. Yes you can say people change, people soften as they get older, but that’s bluntly a cheat, particularly when you never give any proper backstory to in any way explain these changes. Michael simply is a whole lot nicer and less cold, why? He just is. I will say this isn’t on Pacino, it is explicitly written this way, but it feels like such a waste, as to try to give where Michael was left in Godfather Part II a final reckoning could’ve been something special, which this film sadly is not. 

So Pacino’s stuck in a strange spot as Michael because he needs to suddenly portray the Michael he was in the earliest scenes of The Godfather but now is operating as the Don. Pacino does have a certain charm in moments, has charisma on screen obviously though it is unbelievably weird that he’s acting this way. Pacino though has an onscreen power, he does exude that power, but it is not the Michael we have known. It is something else, and in that something else Pacino does deliver in a general sense even in a disappointing sense. The aforementioned scene with Kay is another example of this where you have good acting from Keaton and Pacino in terms of really conveying the complicated history, however still what is written isn’t frankly extreme enough to where the two were left once again. You see old love, old frustrations but not really the old hatred that should be there. Again I do put it more on the writing as Pacino and Keaton have a great specific chemistry that just isn’t utilized perfectly. There’s probably one of the biggest wastes in Michael’s relationship with his children, both portrayed poorly but written just as poorly. Like why not get a real proper dynamic actor for Anthony, who truly challenges his dad about Fredo, instead of just seeming slightly upset, then let’s go swiftly towards the end. It lets Michael off the hook, and more so Pacino just presents Michael as either a slightly concerned or disappointed dad, not much more than that. 

A truly baffling element is in the character of Sonny’s illegitimate son Vincent (Andy Garcia) who everyone in the family thinks is awesome despite being a complete hothead who Michael embraces after biting a man’s ear like a lunatic. Pacino has good moments involving the relationship in presenting the quiet assertive wisdom particularly the scene where he talks about Sonny, where Pacino’s delivery captures an old burdened love as he switches to an impassioned warning. But all of this doesn’t add up into the why. Maybe because Vincent does things, albeit randomly, where Michael here, unlike the first two films, is frequently passive, which again could work if it was a point of the narrative, but it’s not. Instead we get Michael more so the slowly reacting mentor where in that role do we have what is probably the most remembered scene of the film, in that it has the one frequently quoted line from the film. The line being “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” The whole scene of Michael unraveling the plot is another non-Michael like scene given his calculations were far more internalized in the previous films. Pacino’s performance of the scene is entertaining though it is also far more modern Pacino than classic Michael, as he goes for the more overt in both his specific more outward intensity and his physical movements. One can say the moments depict his buildup to his diabetic attack before we get the attack however it looks far more to me like Pacino’s more grandiose style of performing that he became known for and is far cry from his original work as Michael. I won’t say it’s bad because it is remembered for a reason, but it is yet another aspect that doesn’t feel like a continuation of the character. 

The closest we get to this is when the Corleone all go to Italy to see Anthony’s first major Opera performance. In a moment that is initially a performative function related to his dealings with the Vatican Michael is challenged by a devoted Cardinal to confess his sins. Pacino is genuinely amazing in what is an amazing scene where he begins with this just nearly disinterested delivery of a man who has put himself separate from notions of sins or damnation as he tries to quantify his reasoning to ignore. When the Cardinal calmly persists though, Pacino’s portrayal of Michael confession is excellent in the way we get a little in each delivery, as he begins admitting to his killings almost matter of factly, before it becomes a bursting dam of the truth and his sorrow as he admits his complicity in the murder of his brother. Pacino delivers the real intensity of his shame as his whole manner is a man facing down into his shame and truly suffering as he speaks words that have seemingly been kept locked away for so many years. Although one can still argue maybe Michael would never feel remorse, but this scene at least realizes some honest potential of what came before. The same goes for his later scenes with Keaton, which I think logically they’d never really come to any terms, but Pacino and Keaton do find such a natural way into the combination of a stilted bitterness of separation and old affection between them. And within the finale we do get a strong singular moment as he witnesses the death of his daughter, where Pacino’s performance expresses the sheer uncontrollable grief in his reaction where Pacino presents it as a man barely being able to comprehend the reality of it all and just delivering a most primal scream. A moment that actually does wholly feel like Michael as one bit of consistency since he did love for his kids…albeit in his own way. These moments are highlights of the film and where Pacino does shine. He still doesn’t come close to his two performances but he makes use of the few good moments he’s given to work with. Pacino is not the problem with this film, he does what he can even when frankly Coppola is sabotaging him with so many wonky script choices. Pacino doesn't suddenly make it a good film but he’s trying to make something out of it. In the end it’s not a proper finale for Michael Corleone but Al Pacino delivers a good performance within that failure.  

Alternate Best Actor 1990: Danny Glover in To Sleep With Anger

Danny Glover did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning an Independent Spirit Award, for portraying Harry in To Sleep With Anger. 

To Sleep With Anger follows the growing discord within a family in Los Angeles while being visited by an old friend from the south. 

Danny Glover plays the enigmatic visitor whose nature as someone from the south and this force of chaos immediately makes one think of the likes of Ray Milland in Alias Nick Beal or Max von Sydow in Needful Things. It is never quite as overt as those films in the implication but Glover’s performance is a natural fit in that type. As like those performances Glover comes in with a very welcoming smile as he enters into the home. Glover brings a theoretical warmth within that as he seems to want to want to be the best guest towards everyone and seemingly get to know everyone related to the house or reintegrate himself with the people. Glover has a definite charm within Harry as he brightens up every little bit of screentime as this focal point within the film, and I don’t mind placing him lead like those aforementioned performances as he serves a similar prodding role even though he isn’t obviously the main character in a traditional sense. Glover’s quite effective as well in the way we get the first instance that there’s something off about Harry as we see him looking over and touching the family pictures and messing with the clock on the mantle. Where Glover was naturally charming in his entrance, in this moment there’s a very strange manner that effectively makes Harry off, not in an overt way, but one where you do sense there’s something not on the level about him. 

Harry continues as he meets the younger generation where he presents himself as an outgoing “modern” man who doesn’t go on about sin as he shows off his knife. Glover in the sequence very much evokes Robert Mitchum in Night of the Hunter as he speaks about the nature of good and evil. Glover is quite captivating in his folksy way of telling about his “travels” and his keepsakes, though with these little changes there's the sudden sinister glint that switches for a moment and a sadism occasionally. One particular moment where he’s asked if he’s ever used his knife, Glover’s delivery is amazing as he goes from seeming wholly to deliver himself when he says it was for “bad monkeys” before then his voice switching to a lighthearted follow up joke. Glover effectively keeps this certain combination between the facade of normalcy and the real nefarious nature that pierces out in key moments. A continuation when he speaks to the husband and wife of one of the younger couples about their charity habits. Speaking first in glowing terms of support before cutting it down with his own hideous logic and expectation as though to eliminate the idea of goodness. Glover again so effectively doing this coin flip from the friendly visitor to the truly devious man who thrives on cultivating darkness in others.  

Harry is perhaps his most obvious with the older people, including a woman Hattie who knew Harry well and has since changed substantially, or when he’s discussing two men who died including one who was lynched, that it is speculated on that it was only meant to look like a lynching. In both of these scenes Glover’s performance seems to shed any notion of the disguise and rather seems as though in these moments Harry is directly feeding on what fits more directly in his morality. His voice becomes deeper, his eyes entirely filled with that sinister glow of someone truly in his element. In this moment Glover makes the most of the devil seemingly coming out as he seems to want to pull the sin out of one and almost glory in the deaths that seem potentially connected to him. Glover presents just the wolf in these moments as an effective contrast to his scenes with the younger people, where we see his quiet manipulations to push everyone towards bad behaviors and potential bad ends. Where Glover succeeds in creating a convincing quality to the manipulations of the man going along with what anyone is saying, but then just with a quick smile and work twisting it effectively around towards to take something innocuous and make it insidious. I suppose the simple nature of his entrance, Glover’s exit and Harry losing his influence is pretty subtle, and even darkly comical in the immediacy of it. Although kind of a simple choice, Glover’s presentation of this sort of meek acceptance of his need to “leave” suggests more than anything a limitation of what Harry can do if no one is listening. Glover delivers a captivating turn here in successfully playing the little layers of his mischievous fiend knowing exactly when to deliver the smile of a false love and the smile of a real hate. 

Alternate Best Actor 1990

And the Nominees Were Not:

 

Jacky Cheung in Bullet in the Head

 

Danny Glover in To Sleep With Anger 

 

Al Pacino in The Godfather Part III

 

Wojciech Pszoniak in Korczak

 

Gabriel Byrne in Miller's Crossing

 

Feel Free to Predict These Five, Those Five or Both.  

 

Tim Robbins in Jacob's Ladder

 

John Lone in Shadow of China

 

Jason Patric in After Dark, My Sweet

 

Nicolas Cage in Wild At Heart

 

Robin Williams in Awakenings 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1946: Claude Rains in Deception & Results

Claude Rains did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Alexander Hollenius in Deception.

Deception follows as a cellist Karel Novak (Paul Henreid) reunites with his lover Christine (Bette Davis) after the end of WWII, unfortunately a famous composer might complicate things.

 

That famous composer is of course played by the great Claude Rains in his third performance from 1946, following his Oscar nominated performance as a lovelorn Nazi in Notorious and as a rather jovial Satan in Angel on My Shoulder. Despite playing a Nazi and the devil, strangely enough his performance here as lauded composer Alexander Hollenius might be the most actively nefarious in his manner. Rains makes his dynamic entrance as Novak and Christine decide to marry, despite it being clear that Christine had been Hollenius’s lover at the time of the couple’s reunion. Naturally Hollenius decides to crash their wedding and the intensity of Rains’s passive aggression as he comes in to "congratulate" the pair on their nuptials reveals immediately his true intentions. The direction of the character’s ire is properly conducted by Rains with an artful combination between a seething jealousy and egotistical derision. Rains’s eyes present caution immediately towards Christine, his true hatred for this development with nearly the petulance of a boy being denied his cookie, but also with the grandiosity fitting a man who has been declared as a genius by many…including Novak himself. 

There is an unquestionably joy of performance within Rains’s performance that manages to easily differentiate himself from his “other man” performances including his Oscar nominated turn from 46. Rains makes a choice in this instance really not to emphasize any empathetic qualities within his Hollenius instead making an alternative choice in reinforcing the despicable nature of the character. That isn’t to say Rains forgoes any genuine emotion, quite the contrary, however in this instance, unlike Notorious where he weirdly makes one sorry to a degree for the villain in that film, he essentially plays Hollenius as an entitled brat. He has a blast, and it is hard not to enjoy it with him as Rains, even while keeping a certain regal veneer by the virtue of his innate presence and voice, goes all in to show that it is nothing but a hollow facade to the nature of the man. It is especially easy to enjoy Rains’s truly petulant delivery of describing musicians who play his music basically as Monkeys doing his bidding. Rains creates no fancy qualities in this explosion but rather enjoyably strikes right into the heart of who this man is by delivering his outburst with a decided lack of refinement. 

The situation exacerbates quickly when Hollenius recruits Novak to be a musician for his next piece which gives him easy access to brow beat Christine’s love. Rains though shows a slightly different side as the conductor/composer where he still emphasizes just the general sadistic glee he gets from every second, but within it there is at least some notion of general passion in his delivery where we see the musical genius prodding for more. While Christine believes it to be purposeful torture, Novak appreciates the treatment as a method to improve his skill, which naturally leads Christine to confront her old lover for his true intentions. Rains takes complete ownership of this sequence as to be expected where he delivers every line as this long planned dictation that emphasizes the sense of planning in every word while in his eyes still bringing just this childish type of joy of victory over a playground rival. When the composer explains he will essentially make Novak brilliant, before destroying him by revealing the affair Christine had with him, Rains is delightfully diabolical in his ability to present such confidence in the plan meanwhile you sense the seething resentment behind that confidence that is his true motivation. Rains successfully finds a new avenue in playing yet another scene stealing villain that while it has shades of his other works in no way feels a copy of it. Although I wouldn’t say he quite hits the high of his Oscar nominated turn, this is another delicious slice of the Rains pie so to speak, and just another example of him being the very best when it came to character acting in that period.

Updated Overall

Next: 1990 Lead

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1946: Alastair Sim in Green For Danger

Alastair Sim did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Inspector Cockrill in Green For Danger. 

Green For Danger is a hospital soap opera that becomes a murder mystery because everyone chooses to act a little too dramatically for their own good. 

This is the second time I’ve covered an Alastair Sim performance as an inspector. Although this is in no way a copy of his mysterious and imperious inspector Poole, Sim’s Cockrill is earthy in comparison which Sim makes great use of. Sim begins as a narrator before we meet him where he offers a nice alternative delivery where he adds a nice slightly comedic manner to Cockrill’s recitation even while still finding the needed gravity as he describes that the hospital staff consists of victims, a murderer and the suspects. Sim comes in after two murders have taken place in the hospital and a group of two doctors and a few nurses are the suspects. Sim’s great ease for comedy comes into play as we immediately undercut the Inspector a little bit as we emphasize his constant worry about a German bomber throughout the film. Sim really makes the most out of the comedy in his instant switch to the upward reactions of worry and a run and hide that in no way brings any vanity to the character. Leading eventually to a rather enjoyable punchline at the end of the film where Sim’s reaction of slightly frustrated disbelief is some comedic gold. 

His main purpose within the film is to solve the case and where Sim is most welcome as the alternative voice within the constant various emotional compromises of the other characters. Sim arrives with an ease of presence within the Inspector’s role to find out the truth. Sim though is very different here than as Poole, because where Poole already knew everything, Sim very much gives a different style of someone who intends to find out everything, is quite capable of doing so, but has yet to figure it out. Sim conveying an intelligence intent on finding out more despite not having all the answers. Sim brings a wonderful ease and a distinct lack of putting on any airs when dealing with the hospital staff. Sim finding a directness and I especially love the use of his eyes which are always seeming peering through the nonsense being spotted by his list of suspects who all have something to hide even beyond the mystery. Sim provides a directness with a combination between determination with wit as highlights that cut through every scene. Amplifying this only with his physical manner of confident movement within the case and particularly his brandishing of the truth, including my favorite moment in the film with his wholly casual manner of cutting down a bush to reveal an eavesdropper in a rather hilarious fashion. 

Naturally we give Sim a natural detective summation sequence, though in this instance via surgery, where Sim manages to convey a direct urgency of the detective genuinely wishing to avoid any further death with also the wonderful intelligence in his eyes as we see the spark of the man figuring it all out. He manages to even sell a completely ludicrous moment where one character basically acts nefarious for no reason that leads to someone’s death, but Sim’s reactions towards hearing the truth of the situation is pretty great as we get the man completely surprised. Sim earns the change up for the character on an acting level even if the setup is completely unbelievable. Sim offers the right steady presence here that enlivens the mystery and the overall film with ease. He naturally segues between his comedic and dramatic moments in crafting detective that manages to be both exact in his intelligence yet properly humorous in his very much human foibles. Inspector Cockrill evidently is a literary detectives with multiple entries and it's a shame that this was Sim's only go around as it certainly would've been a treat to go through a few more mysteries with him. 

Alternate Best Actor 1946: Results

5. Sydney Greenstreet in The Verdict - Greenstreet is innately an interesting performer but even that struggles under the often repetitive role he has here. 

 

Best Scene: Summary.  

4. Michel Simon in Panique - Simon gives a convincing performance as an eccentric but mostly innocent man being played as the fool.

 

Best Scene:  Finale.

3. Franco Interlenghi in Shoeshine - Interlenghi gives a moving and convincing portrayal of a boy's friendship but also his hardened state slowly being worn away by a cruel system.

 

Best Scene: Interrogation.  

2. Michael Redgrave in The Captive Heart - Redgrave gives a moving portrayal of the quiet tension but also determination of a man living under constant threat yet still trying to maintain his humanity. 

 

Best Scene: Explaining his story. 

1. Charles Boyer in Cluny Brown - Good prediction Robert. Boyer is at his most charming here in delivering on the wonderful wit of his character where he manages to be the smartest man in the room so effortlessly and delightfully.  

 

Best Scene:  Final talk with Cluny.

Updated Overall 

 

Next: A few supporting reviews for 46. 

Alternate Best Actor 1946: Franco Interlenghi in Shoeshine

Franco Interlenghi did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Pasquale Maggi in Shoeshine

Shoeshine follows two shoeshine boys who essentially inadvertently get involved in a robbery that leads them to a juvenile detention center. 

Shoeshine falls into the neorealist work of Vittorio De Sica, who at his best found such emotional power in often very simple yet potent stories set in a very real world. Shoeshine falls into such a film where we very tangible experience the world through the eyes of our two boys Pasquale and Giuseppe (Rinaldo Smordoni), as they traverse a world of poverty where they take on jobs eagerly to squeak by though with dreams of one day buying a horse. Child leads in this period were notable and really only tolerable in European films where we got actual performances from child performers. This film is a clear example of such as with Interlenghi and Smordoni there is a natural reality of their work where you simply believe both boys are boys in this life. Something that might sound simple enough but watch one American child performance from the time and you will see it was hardly the standard for cinema as a whole. Interlenghi in particular has a bit more of a striking presence about him where his face has this quiet simmering sense of determination but also the weight of his life in his eyes at all times. Where you do see De Sica’s approach very much has a pivotal choice in capturing those faces and finding power of those faces, something one would see again in short order in the Bicycle Thieves.  

We follow the boys going through their lives until they get basically set up to be fall guys for some adult criminals and end up in the detention center. The lead up to this is where we see both actors as this unit of just togetherness, and while we don’t spend too much time speaking of complications there is a natural sense of connection and warmth that grants you the idea of their friendship. Within the detention center what we get within De Sica’s overall vision is showing the community of the boys within the center, both good and bad, along with the nature of the system designed to be quite callous to the poverty stricken and in many ways seeks to quite brutally find out anything incriminating that they can out of the boys. Within that however it does lean the film towards the old bingo word of “director’s film” where I will say the performances are of this tapestry. I should note a fundamental part because to craft reality the boys must be wholly convincing which they are. The presentation of them though is showing them very stuck within the progression of this system where there is a very specific intention of setting the boys against each other in order for them to determine the information around their crime. 

Interlenghi’s often reaction based work is always good in reflecting the harshness of the system, although we only get a few very specific moments where we have the direct emphasis of his performance. To his credit he does make the most of these moments, the first being when he is being interrogated and Pasquale thinks they are torturing Giuseppe, cruelly using his love for his friend to actually betray his friend by confessing information about the crime. Interlenghi’s work is moving in the scene because you see in the reaction less fear for himself but rather the sensitive devastation of hearing what he thinks is his friend, suffering so severely. Interlenghi finds power in showing the tough kid as just a real kid in pain and particularly representing the real love for his friend. Unfortunately this causes a rift between the friends as Pasquale is labeled an informant by the other boys, creating a distinct rift between the friends. Where again Interlenghi’s work becomes mostly reactive again however he’s good in bringing a bit more emotional vulnerability in those reactions reflecting the changes from the situation and creating the sense of isolation. Leading to the end of the film where Giuseppe joins an escape attempt without his friend, leading Pasquale to openly inform this time. Interlenghi’s very good in his delivery of this betrayal with the desperate rage not of a man, but of just a heartbroken boy making an immature, yet very much a boy’s choice to get back at his friend. As a boy or as an adult, the betrayal is regardless of reality so far that Pasquale chooses to directly and tragically confront Giuseppe. Interlenghi’s great thought in creating the two contrasts even in such immediacy, capturing the ferocity of his anger at his friend to then his direct uncompromising horror of what comes immediately afterwards. Interlenghi finds the pain so honestly, and very much through the experience of a boy struggling with his emotions so earnestly and seeing the real victim within a cruel system. And while part of the large tapestry I would say Interlenghi manages to still find his impact in showing that progression of the tough kid with a friend to really a wholly broken kid without one. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1946: Michael Redgrave in The Captive Heart

Michael Redgrave did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Capt. Karel Hašek alias Geoffrey Mitchell in The Captive Heart. 

The Captive Heart follows the story of various British POW’s during WWII. 

Michael Redgrave is the most dominant but technically just one of many stories among a handful that we follow throughout the film. He is featured in the one with the most dramatic tension as we are first introduced to him as an officer who is fluent in German, though we quickly flashback to see Redgrave as a distraught man who hurriedly takes the clothes of a dead British officer who dies in front of him. Redgrave leaves a fine and quick impression as he brings just so much innate emotion within his face here. There’s the sense of a lot of years within the man, though I think this distinct combination between wear but also empathy. Even though we see him as a false soldier initially, we suspect better of him with the care within Redgrave’s performance as he tries to help the British soldiers before they are sent to the camp. Within the camp the other soldiers soon begin to suspect the fake captain due to his suspicious behavior and fluency in German leading to a confrontation. A scene where you really see the power of Redgrave’s presence, which is one honestly built on silences more than declarations. As the man actually named Karel’s reply is to admit the truth, which is that he is in fact a Czech concentration camp survivor, whose only chance was to replace the captain, and within this delivery Redgrave is wonderful as you can feel the intensity of position of isolation, however also this quiet degree of shame but also determination with needing to take the measures he did. Redgrave convinces you that Karel’s actions were justified and in turn makes it wholly believable that not only are the men willing to believe him, they eventually champion his survival. 

A situation that is all the more difficult as the camp’s gestapo agent was also at Karel’s concentration camp, though this initially enabled him to prove his story to the British. Redgrave brings such a striking emotional power within largely his silent reactions where you can see him taking in the severity of the situation while in the silence still presenting the man just being a soldier no more no less. Through the film then we follow him as he tries to maintain his identity which becomes all the trickier when the agent is wondering why he doesn’t send any letters home leading to Karel not only needing to break his hand but also write the unknowing widow Celia (Rachel Kempson, Redgrave’s actual wife) as the man he is impersonating. It speaks to Redgrave’s specific abilities as a performer as he does bring so much nuance within these moments of wording the letters and even contemplating the weight of the ruse. Something that is initially a survival necessity slowly becomes more with each letter and within each letter Redgrave’s performance in a few words but mostly just in thoughtful reflection conveys the connection. A connection all the more meaningful as Karel learns of the deaths of his own family and Redgrave presents a man in a personal purgatory reaching out to another, albeit in a most curious fashion. 

While having that more emotional story we follow one step after another of the specific deceits that eventually lead to Karel needing to find a way out in a large prisoner release through a daring mission, which again Redgrave adds a bit more gravity just in embodying the tension that Karel is going through as witnesses the difficult steps to get him out. Leading to probably the weakest aspect of the film, though it isn’t bad, where the film runs through everyone returning home and Karel having the strange duty of not only revealing to the captain’s wife that her husband’s dead but that she’s also had been corresponding with him the whole time. We do get a good scene of Karel telling the truth to her where again Redgrave is able to weaponize the empathy in such a moving fashion where you do sense completely his understanding of her plight but also brings just as much assurance that he had to do it. Finding though with just the right glint of appreciation and warmth, fittingly not to push too far given the nature of the moment but laying the seed that their connection might’ve been more than ruse. Unfortunately I will say the last bit of the film that basically is a montage of the two coming together feels less like the natural realization of the relationship and more of a “let’s wrap this up”, though this is no fault of Redgrave. Redgrave gives a strong performance that often is working in the silences and naturally finds the needed power in those silences.