Alternate Best Actor 1953: Chishū Ryū in Tokyo Story

Chishū Ryū did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Shūkichi Hirayama in Tokyo Story. 

Tokyo Story is a masterful film about an elderly couple visiting their adult children in Tokyo. 

Longtime Yasujirō Ozu collaborator Chishū Ryū plays the male half of the couple, along with Chieko Higashiyama as Shūkichi’s wife Tomi, who actually wasn’t particularly old when the film was shot. Ryū plays the old man though it works honestly because he doesn’t try to put on any overt “old man” mannerisms like a crusty voice or over the top movement. Rather Ryū is convincing just with the calm deliberate manner of the man. That's a very subtle but believable way to make us believe that his father is the age the film says he’s in. Although anyone familiar with Ryū shouldn’t be too surprised that he takes such a modest approach as that is very much his creed as a performer and always the ideal fit for the equally modest style of Ozu. Much like Ozu, Ryū thrives often in the margins and in this instance Ryū’s performance particularly exists in the moments between moments. As much of Ryū’s screen-time as the father is just going about as a visiting dad. We see him with his wife where he and Higashiyama share a naturalistic and believable chemistry. There’s nothing complicated about it; they just simply are connected as they are. When visiting the adult children, including his daughter Shige (Haruko Sugimura), a hairdresser, and son Kōichi, a doctor, (Sō Yamamura), Ryū’s performance is one of largely quiet modesty. Ryū exudes the sense of the father not wanting to be too much of a bother most of the time keeping largely a smile on his face and a very pleasant demeanor even when both children end up struggling to spend all that much truly devoted time to their parents. The only person in Tokyo who truly goes out of her way is their daughter-in-law, the widow of their deceased son, Noriko (Setsuko Hara), who gladly spends time with them. Where Ryū even within his frequently smiling manner does exude that much of a greater genuine appreciation in this interaction that shows the difference between the smile just to be pleasant and the man reacting to a real appreciation for him. 

The majority of Ryū’s performance is that smile and a pleasant nod, that isn’t a criticism however as the power of his performance is when that smile or nod is broken in anyway and the keen way in which Ryū is able to make such an impact out of so little changes within that, which ends up being rather profound in the nuance. There’s a moment early on where his wife mentions his drinking in older times and just the little annoyed noise that Ryū makes speaks to so much suddenly, as we get some insight into a man whose younger years were a bit more defined by alcohol than maybe he’d like to admit to. When speaking to his wife about his children even within the certain disappointment towards how his daughter is meaner than she used to be and his son is a much smaller scale doctor than he expected, Ryū’s changes to more contemplative and you are gained instantly the insights into how the man truly feels beneath the pleasant smile. When discussing the kids in general not having time for him and his wife, Ryū’s performance keeps the calm yet the sadness is so profoundly there between the smiles. It is truly remarkable because Ryū makes it all feel so natural when you catch just those glimpses of the man’s pain that he mostly keeps down. One of the most profound moments of this is when he goes out drinking with some other older men and Ryū’s moment of talking about his deceased son is tremendous. It isn’t a long moment yet just his degree of losing his composure, the sadness suddenly coming up, before pushing it down to just be there to be joyful with his friends is outstanding work from Ryū. Which the scene probably leads to his most overt scene though less serious, where Ryū is regardless effective in depicting the drunken near blacked out saunter of the dad who takes his friend to his daughter’s home and steadfastly ignores her questions. 

The journey ends as it does with the parents returning home, however spoilers tragedy strikes when the mother takes ill then dies soon afterwards. This being quite frankly executed in one of the least melodramatic deaths in any film while also being one of the most heartbreaking because of just how natural it all feels. Key to the power of this is Ryū’s performance, he is amazing because we just see the steps in the man losing his composure, it is almost entirely physical work, particularly just as his wife dies, yet in the way you suddenly see the anxiety and sadness take over it is so painful to witness within the man who had almost entirely such a calm sunny disposition. Maybe most powerful is that even physically we see that he is absolutely distraught as man, his delivery of words just admiring the dawn, Ryū delivers with almost that same calm yet even within that calm we see how fundamental of a loss this truly was for the man. A man who in no way takes his loss as his own and we see Ryū’s portrayal of him being there for his children. Even more so there being for his daughter-in-law, the person who stays the longest with him and seems to most understand his loss. Their final conversation is so poignant where Ryū brings such earnest empathy as he encourages her to move on from his son, meanwhile still showing the pain of essentially looking forward to a life of loneliness himself. Ryū manages to bring the power in the subtle sense of the man’s acceptance, that isn’t acceptance without pain but rather is acceptance of that pain. His final scene being particularly understated of the man just looking out, now alone, in a new day Ryū has that consistency of the man’s presence yet he is no way the same man. You feel that loss in his quietude, and it is as tremendous as the most intense tragedy. 

Alternate Best Actor/Best Supporting Actor 1953: James Stewart & Robert Ryan in The Naked Spur

James Stewart did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Howard Kemp in The Naked Spur. 

The Naked Spur is a terrific western about three disparate men trying to take in one outlaw with a large bounty on his head. 

Despite my love of Stewart as an actor I have somehow never talked about one of his most important collaborations in his career which was with director Anthony Mann in a series of westerns starting with Winchester ‘73 in 1950. These are not your standard westerns and this is a distinct set of performances within Stewart’s career. Long have I held It’s A Wonderful Life as this essential branching off point between essentially pre-war and post-war Stewart where there was a combination through the easy going “aw shucks” charm of the previous period while also alluding to the darkness that would come later with Mann and also two of his collaborations with Alfred Hitchcock, particularly Vertigo. Although interestingly I would say with the Hitchcock films Stewart is still utilizing some aspects, to tremendous impact, of his old presence very modestly, the Mann westerns are notable in that they feel almost like an outright purge of that spirit. As Stewart in this film won’t be saying “aw” or “shucks”, not once, and despite ostensibly playing our hero of the film, to describe his Howard Kemp simply as a hero would not be strictly accurate. 

That idea is quite evident from the opening scene of the film as even Stewart’s resting face here just feels burdened by life already and there’s no sense that he intends to charm anyone. Rather his eyes are evoking a man just on a mission to the point he comes across everyone with suspicion and Stewart, who really always had the most potent of intensity whenever he needed it, delivers that as an innate factor. As we first follow him as he comes across an old prospector Jesse Tate (Millard Mitchell), with suspicion first, Stewart delivers every word with an exact interrogation and every movement is to control the potential attack of the other man. Only when it is clear the man isn’t a threat to him that we get an offer from Howard to Jesse to help him catch the man he’s looking for. Although even in the offer Stewart is cold in just shaking the coins in front of Jesse with no desire to offer the man friendship, it’s simply a business transaction no more no less. Leading to less of a friendship or partnership as they ride together, Jesse wanting no danger and Stewart presenting only the most annoyed frustrations at the other man’s seemingly cowardly demeanor. 

Stewart reaches his man at the top of a rocky incline who seems to have an ideal position to ward off any attackers, requiring that Howard try some separate way up, however before we can get to that the two men run into a third man, a recently dishonorably discharged cavalry officer and sexual miscreant Roy Anderson (Ralph Meeker), where Stewart can do so much with just a glance and his expression the moment he sees the man’s papers Stewart’s quietly disgusted eyes immediately states just how Howard feels about this guy, despite Roy wanting to immediately help. A physical moment but I think a notable one comes when Howard tries to climb the rocky mound first but stumbles and falls. There’s nothing cool in Stewart’s performance, no humor even in recognizing his stumble, rather there’s fear, embarrassment even, and an unpleasant reaction that would likely reflect most falling in a dangerous situation in front of a random stranger who may or may not be on the level. Leaving instead Roy to climb up it successfully and corner the man who had been dropping rocks from above, leading to the introduction of the man who makes this standout among the Stewart/Mann westerns, Robert Ryan. 

Robert Ryan did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Ben Vandergroat in The Naked Spur. 

Robert Ryan made his career out of playing various fiends, including many that I have covered here including his Oscar nominated prejudiced killer in Crossfire and the sadistic master d’arms in Billy Budd. From the moment we see him onscreen however the nature of this villainous turn from Ryan immediately reveals itself, which Ryan is having a blast with this role. When Roy corners Ben, Ryan turns around not with a grimace but the biggest smile on his face as he greets the man. Ryan is disarming, charming, quite frankly as his delivery is pretty casual as though, unlike Stewart, that everyone is his friend and almost seems to commend the man for getting on the drop for him, though this is the first trick as Ben’s companion Lina (Janet Leigh) sneaks up behind Roy giving Ben a brief chance to make a go of it. Almost being successful until Howard and Jesse make it to the top. Ryan begins to set sail with this performance where he bites into every scene so wonderfully as his whole demeanor as the captured man is defined by that confidence of his nearly ever present smile of a man who has more than a few tricks up his sleeve. His next one being the way he addresses his former acquaintance Howard. 

We get the first face off between Ryan and Stewart which in itself is fascinating as the actor known for playing the heel is so wonderfully warm in his manner, even if subterfuge, compared to the often quite charming Stewart only filled with a quiet rage that only gets stronger in Ryan’s perfectly needling yet so falsely genteel way of addressing Howard as “Howie” like they’re former best buds. Instantly challenging the setup as Ryan with glee lets everyone know he has a large bounty on his head and that Howard not only isn't a lawman he’s also in it for the money. Which gets to the crux of this film, and common to Mann westerns which while they are certainly evil, most everyone is a shade of grey, some stronger than others. In this instance not even the often heroic Stewart is a pure hero here. As we see Stewart face down not only Ben but also the two other men who worked with him to arrest him, and Stewart’s eyes are as intense towards them as Ben. There’s a viciousness to him that is wholly distinct within Stewart’s presence within these westerns, particularly this one as Stewart shows that calculation of potentially killing everyone to keep the money for himself, before coming down from that extreme. A process that Stewart for a moment suggests is easy and brings that genuine darkness into the moment for technically our hero. 

Howard is forced to take Ben in with the other two men splitting things three ways, though easier than it sounds as this film shares much with The Treasure of The Sierra Madre as the lure of the financial reward is more than a bit. And that’s where Ryan just runs off with so many moments of this film in presenting the intense deviousness that is Ben in his methods to survive. A performance where frankly he is manipulating everyone constantly. Ryan brilliantly layers his performance though as we have that surface smile where he is trying to disarm everyone. Yet he also essentially constructs a different type for everyone in the party for him to try to get what he wants out of the situation. With Stewart Ryan projects that pestering familiarity that not only denotes a history but also speaks in every delivery the man purposefully tries to push the man’s personal buttons whenever he can. For Jesse Ryan is softer with every expression being with a bit of phony interest in the older man and even a sense of deferment. Ryan’s delivery of his compliments to the old man on his prospecting skills while alluding to potential gold mines somewhere, all as Ryan makes it all look like Ben is genuinely impressed by the guy, though we ought to know better. With Roy, Ben presses his obvious instant obsession with Lina, and Ryan against shifting his expression a little to almost noble in his earnest request that the “good man” watch out for Lina around Howard. Meanwhile Ryan’s so great in his silent reactions where he conveys so effortlessly Ben’s moments of calculation and moments of direction intention just before he makes his various moves throughout the trek to turn him in. 

Stewart I think rightfully lets Ryan just run with the show in his way, presenting effectively and I think quite impressively as the man deferring in the right way. What Stewart does is reflect the sense of that pressure as Howard not only needs to concern himself with Ben and Lina but also the two other men who are supposed to be his allies. In turn having the moments of hard bitten decision where you just sense the powerful exasperation that defines a man almost tired of the moral lows of others. A state that is only broken when Howard gets shot and in a point of feverish dream where he hallucinates Lina as an old lover of his. Stewart’s remarkable in he has so much weight lifted within his work as we see the old Howard where we also in a way get the classic Stewart, although broken in fever, as the man pledges his promises to a memory. A memory that Ben takes no time in revealing the truth of, where we get an early taste for the truest form of Ben as he so caustically and with a real sadism in every word notes however Howard’s intended not only left him, essentially robbed him of his home. Which in turn becomes a point of exploitation as we see the key relationship of Ben with Lina. Ryan’s fascinating in what he does in his scenes with Leigh, which in no way are the true Ben. Rather Ryan presents an ideal believable Ben, as he desperately pleads with her to help the first time, as a man you can believe, maybe even a good man. The next time though you see more of this devil in disguise as it becomes clear he’s playing her just like the rest as he so earnestly reminds her to use herself as a woman to distract the men, particularly Howard whom she’s made a connection with. 

We get the main scene between Stewart and Leigh, where it is fascinating what Stewart is able to pull off in this moment as basically we see him present Howard potentially believing in humanity again as she shows him empathy. Stewart’s remarkable in the way he goes from a quiet suspicion to easing into some of his considerable charm as they keep speaking, a charm that is quite powerful here because it contrasts so strongly from the coldness before. Stewart doesn’t suddenly become “aw shucks” though as Stewart even in bringing some of his charm still shows an intensity where he is grasping at this hope in a moment almost with the same degree we see him in the moments of violent action, and while I would describe the romance as rushed, Stewart does it best to sell it as drowning man gasping for air. Unfortunately as Ben makes an attempted escape leaving Howard to think it is one more trick and return back to his cynical ways. Where the climax comes as Ben manages to fully trick Jesse into helping him escape with the promise of gold to prospect. When Ben gets the gun from Jesse, Ryan’s instant switch to the real Ben is amazing as he still portrays such joy, but now it is sadistic. I have particularly affection for his reaction for being described as literally devil, as Ryan doesn’t just have Ben accept the title, he owns it with aplomb. Ryan emphasizes the truly psychotic nature as he shoots Jesse down still with the same smile of a man who has no moral qualms whatsoever about killing and showing the true colors so brazenly and brilliantly in his performance. Ryan makes the most out of every second of his performance as Ben, as he makes him a master manipulator throughout, a villain that is just a true magnificent bastard and is simply just so much fun to watch. Which in a way I think is essential, despite being the main villain, as he actually lightens the mood to the right degree by having so much fun. Stewart, while in a way the more thankless position, I think smartly plays into that difference by offering a man basically suffering in this world of amorality. Leading to his final scene where basically he has a choice between Ben’s bounty and potentially a happy life with Lina. There’s just something particularly heartbreaking about Stewart when he of all performers breaks down, because it does feel so raw and fundamental and painful perhaps given he can be such a joyful presence. What Stewart delivers in this moment is the messiness of a man essentially nearly completely losing it, not because he's lost faith, but rather that suddenly there’s this chance to regain it. Stewart delivers the fundamental severity of such a realization and finding a hopeful moment to the end film on, though also a truly painful one. Stewart and Ryan make a great pair here where Stewart offers the tragedy of a man struggling with losing himself to a cruel world, against Ryan as thriving and loving the same cruelty. 

 (Stewart)

(Ryan) 

Alternate Best Actor 1953: Charles Boyer in The Earrings of Madame de...

Charles Boyer did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying General André de... in The Earrings of Madame de….

The Earrings of Madame de… follows the possession of the titular earrings of a well to do wife of a General and how their ownership changes the dynamics of her and her husband’s life. 

It’s been quite some time since I’ve covered a Charles Boyer performance, and the only time I’ve covered a Charles Boyer performance where he was speaking in his native French. An actor I’ve always thought had presence but his standout role for me has always been Gaslight because his cold imperious demeanor seemed to fit the manipulative horrible husband of that character. Boyer once again plays a manipulative husband although the situation is quite a bit different here as we follow his relationship with the fairly shallow Madame de… first name Louise (Danielle Darrieux). The opening act follows Louise as she sells her earrings to support her lifestyle while putting on an elaborate act of “losing” them at the theater to convince her husband of such. Honestly throughout this sequence I found Boyer to be the most charming I’ve seen him in anything, not because he presents any sort of great loving husband or anything of that ilk, rather it is the way he presents the General as a man so very much in comfort both with himself and his wife’s approach to life as obviously imperfect as it is. Boyer’s quite a bit of fun as he goes along with the act with the sense that the General has some doubts to begin with and is just having fun playing along with it. One moment particularly worthy of note is a tradeoff with a servant of a man who accuses the General of having stared at his wife. Boyer’s playful delivery of deflecting while also completely admitting to the notion via a compliment of the beauty of the man’s wife before talking with pride of his own is just a wonderful bit of work, and genuinely charming in that very specific ownership of the situation. 

An approach by Boyer that only continues as he learns from their jeweler of his wife’s deceit. Boyer’s reaction though isn’t of any negativity whatsoever, in fact his reaction presents a certain enjoyment of the whole situation. I will admit particular affection for his reaction to his wife bemoaning the loss after he fully knows and Boyer’s exuding this particular joy of someone just loving the game more than anything. An aspect that only continues when the General chooses to give the earrings off to his own departing mistress as a gift. Boyer in that scene brings a playful energy as a man making the gift a bit of a trick of his own. The film then switches its focus more so on the romance between Louise and Baron Fabrizio Donati (Vittorio De Sica). Where the General is just occasionally checked into. Boyer supposedly had arguments with writer/director Max Ophüls over the motivation of the General, and understandably so as the character becomes a bit more enigmatic. Boyer apparently responded by choosing to play his scenes as omnipotent and taking that info manages to make some sense of the General’s switch from being amused by his wife’s actions to becoming a imperious judge against them. Boyer I think does maintain the thread though presenting the General essentially as this force for the social order and less so on a specific personal level. The scene of him pleading for her to maintain the arrangement is less of a desperate or even jealous husband, and more of an authoritarian ruler making quite clear the specific laws of his nation. An idea only extended upon later in the film where he challenges Donati to a duel. Again a scene where Boyer actually doesn’t play it all emotional, and I found his approach even slightly comical as the General speaks around the true infraction in a way. Boyer delivers the scene so rapidly and as a matter-of-fact, as again more so this is a requirement of the society that he make the duel challenge more than this is an emotional man trying to keep his wife. Boyer I think finds an internal logic within the film and his own performance. As much as I think Max Ophüls is the true star of the film, Boyer I think manages to stay present beyond the vision even when working in the vision by finding some genuine entertainment within presenting the General in consistently more satirical terms. 

Alternate Best Actor 1953: Jack Hawkins in The Cruel Sea

Jack Hawkins did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite receiving a BAFTA nomination, for portraying LT. Commander George Ericson in The Cruel Sea. 

The Cruel Sea takes a realistic approach of a single crew going through World War II. 

If that role sounds primed for Jack Hawkins, the man required to be in every epic during a certain period, you would be correct. This very much is mostly in his more expected wheelhouse just in the lead role, although just barely as the film very much focuses on several members of the crew to get a wider scope of how this life impacts the men. Hawkins provides his presence to the role of a British officer with the innate strength you’d want, and fitting to the most seasoned man called to deck. Hawkins often must fulfill those needs with delivery of his orders with that regal voice of his and with a quiet confidence about a man who knows what he’s doing. That is the set-up however that isn’t all there is to the film or his portrayal of Ericson, though Hawkins certainly does well in filling that Naval uniform so to speak. The film though is trying to be realistic so this isn’t at all about the glory of the navy, and I would say Hawkins is good because even when he’s in his most official capacity he’s not emphasizing any “rah rah” quality, just a man being professional. 

The film gets much darker when the men come across British men in the water but also know there is a German U-boat below the surface. Hawkins is good in this scene where his eyes do capture essentially the cruel but needed calculation of the man as he understands the gravity of his choice yet then proceeds to calmly order that the boat proceed to attack. When he’s called a murderer, even though Ericson had no choice lest their ship also be destroyed, Hawkins’s reaction takes that as truth even as he continues but still maintaining a veneer of indifference to maintain himself as the proper commander. We have a followup scene where Ericson confides his first officer his true heartbeat over the scene, and I’d say Hawkins is good in the scene, but I can’t help but admit I think he’s better in a short, yet very similar scene, in the end of The Bridge on the River Kwai where he also must justify his sacrificial action. There I truly felt the emotion, here I think Hawkins presents it well, certainly delivers on the needs of the moment, but his performance didn’t impact me to the degree of his later work. 

We follow the ship as it has its own destruction where Hawkins again has a good scene where he is recovered with the few remaining crew delivering genuine fear in his expression and conveying the severity of the situation. We follow that even with a personal note of the unfaithfulness of his wife where Hawkins delivers an effective bit of quiet exasperation, where he does care but has been through too much to care all that deeply. Hawkins shows instead the focus of the man now on his job where we have his pivotal scene of becoming obsessed that there is a German U-Boat even though all signs suggest otherwise. Hawkins is good in this scene in managing to portray this dancing on the line in his intensity between determination and paranoia. Hawkins plays around on the note effectively in the build up before he is proven to be right and once again saves the day in less than typically heroic circumstances. Hawkins gives a good performance here, but I will say, along with some of his other leading turns I’ve seen. There is something missing. Don’t get me wrong, he’s good in those other turns, he’s good here, but the weird thing is he weirdly feels like he has a greater presence…when in supporting roles. And it might just be that strange intangible of what makes a star a star, as Hawkins is good, has a strong presence, yet as a leading man, he’s just not quite as gripping as when he comes in and out of a film. 

Alternate Best Actor 1953

And the Nominees Were Not:

Chishū Ryū in Tokyo Story

Charles Boyer in The Earrings of Madame de...

Jack Hawkins in The Cruel Sea

James Stewart in The Naked Spur

Kazuo Hasegawa in Gate of Hell

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Results

10. Daniel Wu in New Police Story - Wu makes for a pretty whiny and obnoxious villain. Not in a way that works either. 

Best Scene: Last "duel".

9. Cameron Bright in Birth - Bright delivers on the specific hollow note asked of him but never makes an impact beyond that. 

Best Scene: Being challenged.

8. Tim Meadows in Mean Girls - Meadows finds the right tone for the material hitting his comedic marks while still being believable. 

Best Scene: Riot control.

7. William Hurt in The Village - Hurt manages to deliver what dramatic heft he can from the tricky material even if it only allows him to go so far with it. 

Best Scene: Explaining his decision. 

6. Bud Cort in The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou - Cort gets the most out of his unusual role being both funny but also finding his own little arc as the surprisingly supportive "bond company stooge". 

Best Scene: Human being. 

5. Billy Bob Thornton in The Alamo - Thornton is the most interesting part of his film finding honesty in his deconstruction of man who knows he doesn't live up to his "living legend" status. 

Best Scene: Talking to Bowie. 

4. Nick Nolte in Clean - Nolte gives a very quiet and moving portrayal of man managing his own grief while also trying to honestly negotiate between family members dealing with the same loss. 

 

Best Scene: Important talk with his grandson.

3. Alfred Molina in Spider-Man 2 - Molina manages to thrive within the idea of the comic book villain while still providing essential grounding to provide balance. 

Best Scene: Finale. 

2. Peter O'Toole in Troy - O'Toole provides honest gravitas to tricky material and even more importantly emotional truth. 

Best Scene: Priam speaks to Achilles. 

1. Al Pacino in The Merchant of Venice - Good predictions Omar, Tony, Bryan, Shaggy, Tybalt, Tahmeed, Ytrewq, Luke, Robert, Harris, Maciej, Tim, RatedRStar, My top three of the year all are dealing with tricky material. O'Toole finding life in material that so many become stiff and awkward from. Hoffman finding genuine comedy even when so much of the attempted comedy around him is falling flat. Then Pacino who is in a slightly different situation in that he's dealing with Shakespeare however trying to accentuate a certain context many would argue was not intended in the original material. Pacino though excelling in this alternative approach and finding humanity within his "villain". Although I still settle on Hoffman. Because honestly being good in the bad comedy is a particularly rare occurrence and it's notable while I still found his film largely unfunny, I still laughed thanks to Hoffman. And really put say Dan Fogler, or even Jack Black into that role, I don't think they would've escaped the mediocrity let alone make the mediocrity into something that actually worked.  

Best Scene: "Do we not Bleed" 

Updated Overall

Next: 1953 Lead

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Peter O'Toole in Troy

Peter O’Toole did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying King Priam in Troy. 

Troy tells the story of the Trojan war.

It is always fascinating with any sword and sandal film how easy it is to be a Quo Vadis instead of a Ben-Hur, a Samson and Delilah instead of a The Ten Commandments…a Troy instead of a Gladiator. Where the tone and aesthetic skewed just slightly one way or another makes it feel just silly dress up rather than any kind of captivating rendition of the type. As already noted Troy struggles within it falling into that dress up quality more frequently than not with the performances particularly frequently falling into that stilted attempt to sound almost too regal or legendary or whatever, it doesn’t work. The most notable exception to this situation is the legendary Peter O’Toole in the role of the Trojan King, the father of Paris (Orlando Bloom) and Hector (Eric Bana). Paris who creates the problem by taking Helen (Diane Kruger) from her actual husband, leading to the Greek army of Agamemnon (Brian Cox attempting more so the Ustinov/Laughton method for these things though I wouldn’t say he’s entirely successful as such) to invade Troy. Hector on the other hand is the great warrior and the responsible brother dealing with the weight of war. Priam stands then as the often stoic regal figure which O’Toole is more than happy to provide. O’Toole importantly just gives the utmost devotion to creating a genuine gravitas to the proceedings and doing his best to make you believe this world. O’Toole does achieve this as he finds the right combination between the regal but with enough of honestly a relaxed quality to not become that stiff quality a few of his co-stars struggle with. 

O’Toole is able to establish Priam as the old King with some wisdom but maybe too much of a connection to the old ways. O’Toole in a way presents a degree of a front as the wise King while we get more within certain moments where O’Toole thrives in bringing humanity within the legendary qualities so to speak. As we have O’Toole successfully delivering the words of Priam’s belief in the god Apollo where he can match the sort of elevated tone in every word of his delivery. O’Toole importantly makes it look easy which is in a way part of it, he doesn’t need to seem as though he’s dressing up as this man, he is this man. O’Toole takes it further however when we have the additional moments of the director’s cut where you see the love Priam has for his son Hector combined with his reason for that earlier devotion. When Priam tells of his prayer to Apollo that he believed saved the very young Hector’s life, O’Toole offers a quieter delivery where there is this strict sincerity of a father finding strength within that belief and most importantly the sense of the love for his son within the story. Contrasting that perhaps a bit, even though the film doesn’t do much with it, is O’Toole reactions during Paris’s one sided losing fight against Helen’s actual husband Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson), where we mostly see him trying to maintain that kingly grace yet when Paris shows obvious cowardice in the fight, O’Toole temporary disgust is just a great moment from the actor where you see most intense genuine emotion that Priam must keep down. An intriguing bit that sadly doesn’t get too much development beyond that moment. 

An even greater moment comes as a series of circumstances leads the greatest Greek warrior Achilles (Brad Pitt) to seek revenge for his cousin killed by Hector, as we see Achilles call out Hector for a one on one duel. Before Hector goes, knowing the likelihood of his fate, we get two moments from O’Toole where he manages to express the sides of the character in each. As first we have him wish for luck from Apollo essentially where O’Toole delivers it with the firm conviction of the caring king and devoted worshipper. Followed by a great bit of physical work where we see this quick, emotional and really instinctual extra moment where the man is shown behind the king. O’Toole in his hurried delivery bringing instead of the regal quality, the warmth and desperate love of a father one more time to a son he knows he’ll likely never speak to again. A notion that is only all the more powerful when Hector is not only killed by Achilles, but Achilles makes a mockery of his corpse by dragging Hector around on his chariot. This leads to not only O’Toole best scene but easily the best scene in the entirety of the film as Priam sneaks into the Greek encampment to ask Achilles for his son’s corpse to allow for a proper burial. 

O’Toole’s amazing in this scene bringing such a potent combination of qualities. As we sense the overriding grief beneath every word and his eyes carry the heartbreak of a man who would never fully recover from this loss. Yet Priam’s first action is to kiss Achilles’s hands, the hands that killed his son and supplicate himself. O’Toole finds such power in his quiet and nuanced delivery of each word of true wisdom and warmth as he appeals to Achilles’s humanity with such a pure sense of belief in the greater nature of man. When speaking of Achilles’s own father’s death it isn’t pester but rather connect with the sense of regret of an older man who has seen so much pain and death in the world. O’Toole manages to create even warmth to this killer of his son in the moment, finding still while projecting such striking grief and creating a true poignancy of the moment of the father believing in humanity in what should be in his moment of greatest doubt. O’Toole is able to combine such overwhelming vulnerability as so much of his physical work is of a man near a complete emotional breakdown in the way his lip quivers, however countered with the strength in his voice of a man who believes he will succeed in this task. It feels a wholly natural combination of a man empowered by his grief, which naturally is no easy idea to convey, yet that always feels convincing thanks to the greatness of O’Toole. I mean O’Toole is so great in the scene that Pitt, in maybe the least of his performances, even becomes decent in the scene almost seemingly in reaction to what O’Toole is delivering. It is extraordinary work in the scene from O’Toole particularly within a film that is filled with so much of it is overwrought and stiff. O’Toole wholly elevates that scene to think you’re watching a much better film than you are through his great talents as a performer. A talent that I would say in the theatrical cut in particular is underexploited outside of the scene, though the more than crumbs he gets from those deleted moments thankfully do allow O’Toole to elevate himself beyond a one scene wonder and reactor who knows how to sell the material. O’Toole elevates every moment he does have to create a captivating portrayal of the King as a king but also a man, with one extraordinary scene that is worthy of mention along with the very best of his illustrious career. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Alfred Molina in Spider-Man 2

Alfred Molina did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Doctor Otto Octavius aka Doc Ock in Spider-Man 2.

Spider-Man 2 follows the continued adventures of Spider-Man aka Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) this time against Doc Ock.

Molina plays the villain this time around working within similar contexts to Willem Dafoe’s Green Goblin/Norman Osborne from the first film though to do different ends. Similar in the sense that both films, very much fitting the style of Sam Raimi, involve a transformation towards evil. With Otto we meet him also attempting a risky experiment that will create an amazing breakthrough at Oscorp, although a difference being he’s technically an employee as a researcher being funded by now head of the company, Harry Osborne (James Franco). Molina’s first scene actually does a lot as we initially meet him as the somewhat reluctant host for Peter who is writing a paper on Otto’s work. Molina I think key, and really what is the backbone to where the character goes, is the initial coldness and kind of disregard for taking the time as he speaks of his work as far beyond any other requirement, only relenting when Harry reminds him of his financial support. There’s something there that Molina eventually expands on, though we first get an important reprieve where we see Otto lighten up when he finds out that Peter is the “Smart but lazy” student his friend has told him about and has lunch with his wife Rosie (Donna Murphy). Molina and Murphy for that matter I think importantly give no sense of where the film is going to go, instead convincingly playing with genuine chemistry a long loving married couple who still have fun chatting up about their old days and their differences as science and poetry focused people. They really are lovely together and exude such a strong sense of the relationship in just one scene to show it very much as the humanity of Otto. An element he even shares with Peter as he encourages him to take a forward approach romantically with such a sincere little grin of someone who is so in love he’d only want someone else to share that as well. It’s great work because Molina and Murphy work would be convincing in a feel good or even drama about the different yet connected couple, and don’t play the relationship as thin given it will be wiped away by the plot. 

Speaking of, we get Otto demonstrating his self-sustaining fusion reaction, which naturally requires the use of four giant mechanical arms grafted to his body, and we get the introduction from Otto. Molina opens as the slightly corny scientist with a bad joke and his general presentation, before starting the experiment with the arms where Molina fashions a direct intensity in his eyes and we see essentially the strength of his ego in the moment. A pivotal moment actually to play the seed of the character before we take the next step, less so as a Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde as we saw with Norman Osborne and more so the man letting his worst element be taken to an extreme. An extreme that comes as the experiment goes terribly wrong, needing to be shut down by Spider-Man, Rosie dies, and Otto loses his protection from the influence of the arms leading to the arms to massacre the hospital staff that attempt to remove them. Where we make the shift very much more so to the Raimi style villain where there is a degree of arch to it, as we honestly begin Molina’s work as Doc Ock with a dramatic “Nooooo” at seeing what has happened and an announcement of anger that infuses both the losses he’s endured and the monster he seemingly has become. This might sound like a criticism but trust me it is not. Rather what Molina does is find ownership in the more operatic qualities that really aren’t all that out of sorts for a man finding himself both grafted to metal arms but also influenced by them that reinforce his worst impulses. Where we see the moment of the arms "building him” up and Molina’s terrific in playing into this frenzy as he goes with every suggestion to continue with the experiment but to only make it bigger without any thought to the consequences. 

Molina finding a pathway into then creating the villain as essentially showing that intensity but now as the man who has come to believe anything he does is perfectly fine as long as it is in service to his vision. In turn we do get quite a lot of fun of Molina then playing basically as the ego without any bounds and someone who comes to even enjoy his villainy as he goes about robbing banks, threats and kidnapping to meet his demands. Molina finds a juicy material in more ways than one honestly, as even some of his head movements are so specifically of this comic book effect that it is utilized in the ideal way where he presents the comic book heel in such a dynamic fashion. While also making him quite entertaining in playing up those egotistical moments of the villain playing around essentially such as when he purposefully sets up a train for destruction to exhaust Spider-Man with such aplomb, or coming to threaten Harry with the biggest smiles of someone just totally living in being the monster beyond himself by giving into those impulses. Molina getting to have fun with the fiend and thriving within the style of the film, yet never becoming too much that you lose the core of the character at any point. Molina successfully connects the “arch” elements with that sense of expanding ego leading to the finale where Doc Ock tries the experiment again only leading to greater destruction. When Doc Ock sees Peter, not Spider-Man, trying to talk sense into him, Molina’s moment of clarity is fantastic where we see the push and pull essentially between going with arms and his ego, to that humanity of his scene with his wife and Molina finds genuine pathos in the man realizing he’s gone off the deep end. Leading to a genuinely moving moment where he insists on stopping the experiment insisting he won’t be remembered as a monster, where Molina’s reaction embodies a loss of the ego, genuine sorrow in where it has taken him, but also a different new type of determination as he goes about righting his wrong. Molina delivering a strong performance that succeeds in managing to take ownership of the more overt comic book tone to make an entertaining villain, however without going so far that we lose the thread that provide the necessary grounding to make his strange journey believable within the tone of the film. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Nick Nolte in Clean

Nick Nolte did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Albrecht Hauser in Clean. 

Clean follows a drug addicted woman, Emily (Maggie Cheung), dealing with the aftermath of her longtime companion and the father, a musician, of a child who dies from a drug overdose. 

Nick Nolte plays the father of the deceased man who we see early on taking the news where Nolte’s reactions suggest a dad who really probably had a good relationship with his son at one time but has been lost and separated from his life for a good long time. His reaction to losing him is moving in the rather subdued reaction where Nolte conveys the complicated feelings of heartbreak but with a certain distance of that sense of separation with his son for some time. An idea continued when we first see Albrecht interact with Emily, where he suggests that she give some time away from her own son given the very difficult circumstances of the situation. Nolte’s very good in managing to find a tone within his delivery where we feel no sense of Albrecht playing a note of self-righteousness or meanness. Rather in Nolte’s sensitive delivery you see a certain awkwardness with her, a struggle to speak the words who knows the situation is tough, yet in his eyes and in his manner he is emphasizing a man who very much cares about his grandson’s well being and the ask for Emily to take a step back as she deals with her own personal struggle is from a place of genuine concern. Nolte doesn’t make it simple though and shows that Albrecht himself is just trying to do what he thinks is best in an extremely difficult situation. 

We check in with Nolte a few times as Albrecht continues to deal with the struggles of the dad. We see him in the strange situation as he has to try to make decisions regarding his son’s music. Nolte’s portrayal brings such a sincerity in his slightly confused reactions to talking to the producer and reacting to the suggested artwork for the albums. Nolte captures the sense of a man being in a totally alien world, that grief still nagging in his eyes, and just in every “Sure I guess” delivery being a man who wants to do right by his son yet within that is realizing just how out of his son’s world he was. Something we see extend when Albrecht is speaking to his ill wife about the choices, who speaks her own doubts about. In every word of trying to justify the decisions, Nolte alludes to this messy inability to really know exactly what his son was like but with still a strong sense that he loved his son despite that struggle. A struggle that only continues as the matter comes of whether or not his grandson should interact with the troubled mother or not. Nolte continues to excel in creating such effortless complication in his reactions including even his own grandson expressing his dislike for Emily. Where we get Nolte’s defense for her, which isn’t as simple as a heroic push back, rather again this quiet but powerful earnest understanding and empathy of someone who truly wants to allow Emily a second chance and to get to know her own son. 

Nolte never simplifies an element within this however as when he brings his grandson to spend time with Emily there are some restrictions from the man. Where we saw his empathy for Emily, we see his empathy for his wife and his grandson just as much in this moment as now he’s the one challenging her just as he challenged his wife and grandson’s own views of her. Nolte is able to express this coming from the same place of duty and genuine care. In every word it isn’t a threat, but rather very much a most honest and respectful demand for the sake of everyone that she not overstep these boundaries. Nolte is wonderful in the way he is able to combine simple straightforward love and empathy, with the complexity of trying to maneuver through such a difficult situation that will be good for Emily, his grandson and his wife. Nolte’s performance expresses consistently the weight of such a task, and is very moving because in his eyes you see the man who just wants to try to make the best he can out of a very challenging situation. There were so many ways this performance could’ve mis stepped a little bit into the more melodramatic. Nolte though glides through this work where every moment it is with the strong sense of a history we never saw. The history of a love for his family but even so the extension of that history, where we see the man even extending to a woman he barely knows but knew that his son cared for. Nolte instead of being secondary, he honestly makes Albrecht’s story a parallel moving depiction of grief and the challenges of moving forward with that loss. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Cameron Bright in Birth

Cameron Bright did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Young Sean in Birth.

Birth follows a widow Anna (Nicole Kidman) who is approached by a young boy who claims to be her reincarnated husband. 

Cameron Bright plays the young boy who shows up to Anna’s apartment, just as she’s about to be remarried, telling her not to marry her fiancée and that he is her dead husband reborn. Bright, who had a brief period as the child actor for slightly dramatic parts, plays the central role in the sense that all action of the film is in reaction to the actions of this boy. The character is that of an enigma whose actions are elusive to all including his own parents, yet he challenges everyone seemingly with his knowledge that is far greater than some random boy pulling a prank. Bright’s performance is one that I would describe as hollow, though hollow with a purpose. The purpose in director Jonathan Glazer’s vision makes him not easily discernible in terms of the truth. Instead what Bright portrays is this cold determination of sorts. All the information he conveys, all of the claims about him being the dead man, it is with calm troubling conviction where it seems like he simply knows this rather than needing to think about it. Even when stating he’s no longer his mother’s “Stupid son” but rather this man, it is with just this directness where the emotion is almost that of a slight annoyance that someone would doubt his claim. Bright’s face rarely changes expression however the expression itself does serve the purpose as this ever watching pestering face in that detachment. 

He’s not teasing, he’s not smiling, he’s just there and in that consistency you get the sense of why others would find the boy’s behavior more than a little infuriating after a while. Even when getting in a bath with Anna, Bright’s performance still accentuates this matter of fact distance in the action rather than any intention beyond almost duty. Eventually however Young Sean is challenged by a lover of the real Sean as the real love of his life breaking ruse. Even in the breaking of said ruse however, Bright’s performance as he admits not being Sean, not as someone admitting fault or a game, but almost in this logical dictation that he cannot be Sean because he loves Anna and the real Sean did not. Eventually leading him to finally leave Anna alone and seemingly return to his own life. An aspect that is only briefly touched upon as we see him taking a school picture, and suddenly there no longer is that detachment to boy in Bright’s performance and perhaps even normalcy. Bright’s performance I would say delivers on the need of the design of the character to an extremely specific end. There’s no “why” exactly to the young Sean about his performance, nor do we see the steps in the transformation to or back from it. Rather he is as he is and stays the enigma even when the “truth” is shaken. I would say it is a good performance, and I think importantly Bright doesn’t play up any creep factor in a traditional sense that might’ve been the easy route. Having said that, it think the performance services the need of the film but in the end exists within a certain limitation of that need without really an impact beyond it. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: William Hurt in The Village

William Hurt did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Edward Walker in The Village. 

The Village follows an isolated village surrounded by a forest where strange creatures seem to lurk. 

William Hurt plays the elder of the village, a performer who may have had the best armor to deal with the sometimes ropey dialogue of M. Night Shyamalan, because Hurt himself sometimes has a very peculiar way of delivering lines. And for me, unless he’s lost in space, this works regardless even if most actors you might call it stilted, for Hurt it works and for Hurt I was convinced every word he says in this film which is an achievement in itself, particularly when also very talented actors like Joaquin Phoenix and Sigourney Weaver I found fumbled a bit when trying to get every word across. Hurt handles it with ease. Hurt is effective in doing his best to essentially earn the twist in playing the man who is part of the village, bringing the general needed gravitas as the elder so to speak. What Hurt does so well is play very much with the twist in mind throughout the film and more than anyone earns in his performance. As there is the sense of the weight of the lie in everything that he does, even as he tries to keep this general calm of the man projecting concern and strength for his community. 

Within the moments where the young village stalwart Lucius (Joaquin Phoenix) decides that he should try to leave the village for better medicines, Hurt’s reactions within this area with a combination of concern and admiration. The former even not for the man’s life but rather something else that is nagging at him. When even Lucius attempts to make the trip unauthorized, Edward doesn’t react with anger rather appreciation for the bravery of the young man. Hurt’s reaction in the moment portrays honest affection for the spirit of the young man and really even a sense of hope for the future. The main crux of the story comes as Lucius is severely injured by the mentally unwell Noah (Adrien Brody), leaving Edward’s blind daughter Ivy (Bryce Dallas Howard) to want to save him. Coming to the revelations of the piece, though again I’ll credit Hurt for very much wanting to do the work to try to provide a bit of depth within the context of the twist. Including when Edward tells Ivy of his own father, a financial wizard who was murdered for his wealth. Hurt brings within the delivery of this speech frankly a sense of modernity, a hint of nostalgia for his dad, but also a very strong sense of motivation for the man’s rejection for the rest of the world. Leading to the twist which felt unavoidable at the time of the film’s release, as Edward shows her that the strange creatures lurking in the woods are in fact costumes the elders wear to keep their children to stay within the village. Hurt even within this revelation even excels in his almost half embarrassed/half calming declaration that it is “farce” as he supports his daughter breaking the rules and leaving the forest.

 Leading to what really is Hurt’s standout scene where the rest of the elders come to learn of the choice and some of them severely question the break of their oaths. Hurt is terrific in the scene because what he calls upon is this old passion in his performance as he speaks not only of the crimes of Noah, but the hope of his daughter and Lucius. Bringing within it not just a sense of love and concern for the future, but also the sense of conviction of someone who is reckoning essentially against the strictures of his old choice and instead supporting the fundamental spirit of why he made that original choice. It’s a strong scene for Hurt, one that naturally reveals this history professor who made the decision to go with others to hide essentially in the forest away from society to make some idealized version of society to avoid those ills, now dealing with the ills regardless. Hurt makes the pain of dealing with these realizations feel absolutely real and creates something tangible in the emotional strain he brings in every word noting the man's true passion to hold onto the idea of innocence behind the village meanwhile allowing the fundamental rules of the village to be broken.  It’s there and it is only a shame that this is basically the end of the notion and not something the film deals with beyond a certain point. Which is unfortunate as the film might’ve had something if it continued in the direction alluded to by this scene, but basically the film is wrapping up so that’s that. Regardless, Hurt delivers on alluding to that potential, in creating a performance that not only naturally supports the twist also weaves within it some genuine emotion. I will say it is unfortunate the film isn't better because what Hurt does is create a greater promise within the premise, which sadly the premise as is only allows Hurt to go so far. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Tim Meadows in Mean Girls

Tim Meadows did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Mr. Ron Duvall in Mean Girls. 

Mean Girls follows girls being mean.

Tim Meadows plays the principal of the school where the various teenage cliques clash. SNL alum Tim Meadows very much set out not to be any sort of strict principal of maybe past High School films and instead a largely comedic presence. Although I will say Meadows’s performance is fairly artful in the tone he manages here, which I wouldn’t say is strictly realistic but is convincing as the principal even often used in a comedic sense. Meadows in the more comedic moments playing well the essentially put on smile where his eyes seem just slightly dying inside during the basic school functions and notably at the end of the film where he attempts in vain to cut short the dramatic speech of our protagonist, where every one of his deliveries of “you really don’t need to make a speech” is pretty great in his effortless combination of cordiality with the strong undercurrent of someone saying “shut up and get off the stage”. Meadows’s performance has a bit more to it than that however in playing that convincing part of the high school principal a bit more genuinely. 

As we see his certain exasperation at the nonsense of his student population which is funny, but there is enough of a dignified manner to still be convincing beyond that. Particularly a moment where Rachel McAdams’s villainous queen bee Regina George shares her one burn book, though altered to make it look like it’s not hers, with his Mr. Duvall. Meadows plays the comedy in his eyes of deciphering what she’s up to, but with enough of a genuine pause when asking about the books noting that the high school coach was making out with students. Something that comes later where not too much is made out of the moment, but Meadows is good in bringing a low key gravitas when firmly instructing the coach to stay away from the underage girls. On a similar though slightly lighter note his annoyed delivery about leaving southside only to deal with the girl riot from the burn book, is amusing but does have a bit of weight to it, followed by his commanding requirement that all the girls go to the assembly. Followed by his fairly hilarious yet still pointed way of setting up the “peace talks” essentially, where he brings a certain grace, but with also comedy in his casual threat switch from “well keep you all night” to “well keep you to four” however with the same conviction. A conviction that perhaps is a bit lost when trying to talk to the girls immediately runs into discussion of the menstrual cycle, and Meadows’s overwhelmed reaction to passing the buck again is pretty good. The only note I’m pretty ambivalent to in this performance is the relationship between Mr. Duvall and math teacher Ms. Norbury (Tina Fey). Where we get Mr. Duvall slightly awkwardly asks her if she needs to talk about things, then we see them silently slow dancing together. I don’t think it’s bad, I don’t think Meadows performs poorly either, it’s just kind of there for me. Otherwise though this is a good well attuned performance, that delivers on the right tone, as he’s funny but also still believable. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Billy Bob Thornton in The Alamo

Billy Bob Thornton did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Davy Crockett in The Alamo.

The Alamo seems like there is a good film trying to get out, which is supported by the production history where it sounds like earlier versions wanted a more complex and complete version of the history, that is sadly kept prisoner by the extremely standard mostly “print the legend” approach. 

The most substantial element of that version lies within Davy Crockett and Billy Bob Thornton’s portrayal of the character. As what Thornton and the film do, it very specifically seeks to break down the notions of the legend Davy as the “king of the wild frontier” and deal with him on more human terms. We are introduced to Davy as the politician and living legend where he’s literally at a function where someone is performing his “life story” for him. Thornton’s quite effective in managing to balance a combination of the politician taking the points with a certain smiling graciousness, yet within that smile denotes someone not entirely comfortable with the nature of the situation. After Davy loses his political seat he ends up going to Texas and joining forces at the Alamo, and honestly is a pivotal scene for Thornton’s whole performance as Davy twofold. One in his saying he got kicked out of the congress so might as well go to Texas, Thornton delivers that line very much like he’s running his PR campaign. It isn’t with the pride of a man trying to fight for freedom but entirely a man looking for some avenue to continue his career. Adding on top of that the moment where he is told that the full Mexican army is heading towards the Alamo, Thornton’s reaction and delivering of having thought there wasn’t much fighting, is with a glint of genuine fear and more than a bit of disbelief as we see guy potentially looking to score some political points now in the middle of a genuine war. 

Within the scheme of the film Thornton is consistently the most interesting aspect throughout the film as he creates a real complexity in the story of Davy within the scheme of the Alamo. Thornton does play the part as the “hero” rather what he manages to do is create a lot of different fascinating shades to the idea of the folk legend. Where Thornton is quite remarkable in finding moments of trying to live up to the name while also at others admitting to being far less than what is expected of him. You have the moments where people do speak of the legend of Davy, and I love the moment actually where Davy takes a pot shot at a Mexican soldier, where Thornton’s whole manner suddenly is very much playing the part of the legend briefly as a sort of morale boost to everyone around him, even playing off the near miss of the shot as having got caught in the wind with this certain not entirely false, but not entirely true confidence of someone doing his job of playing the part, while not entirely living up to the part. Contrasting that is when he speaks to Jim Bowie (Jason Patric), another man of legend whose stories apparently are true, unlike most of Davy’s. Thornton brings such a naturalistic realization of the slight embarrassment at needing to admit that he’s far from his legend particularly noting his lack of a Coonskin hat with a bit quiet humor, where he manages to hit the right note of sincerity of someone kind of caught in the middle of an idea he is partially responsible for but also is not. Thornton manages to find a nuance in it, not being someone who denies it, not being someone who lies about it either, finding the struggle to deal with the notion but not wanting to entirely destroy it either. 

Within the buildup towards the battle Thornton does the most out of any performer to add some genuine gravity to every moment and creates a journey which can follow with Davy in dealing with the challenges of the situation. Once more not choosing a single approach so easily, such as when after an initial skirmish Davy suggests burning down some buildings to prevent the Mexicans from using them as cover. Thornton's initial delivery is very much as the nonchalant hero as he notes he wanted to stretch his legs anyways. When actually in the action though Thornton does keep a sense of real urgency if not fear as he has to take on Mexican soldiers and even kills one. A moment where Thornton is great is the moment of shooting the man and his eyes realize the very real weight of killing a man in the moment. Following it with his particularly powerful delivery of asking what the man’s name was before the man dies, Thornton captures such a potent sense of real humanity within the moment that does not make it all a simple “killing the enemy” moment. Similarly we have a key moment when asked about his past exploits, and Thornton’s reactions are a combination of a certain humility though combined with a certain fear and even an understanding of his limits as a soldier. Thornton finding a poignancy in underplaying his exploits and more so emphasizing that his previous duties weren’t exactly of a great warrior. All except his speaking on a time where he was part of a raiding party where they killed natives in fire and the grease from the dead men cooked potatoes that their squad prepared to eat. Thornton’s quite effective because as he begins the story it is of the wise man sharing accomplishments however as it continues in each step there is a haunting shame that forms in his eyes and that even in his most unusual story it isn’t one of any kind of triumph. 

Thornton during the battle and build up scenes, really just brings a much needed weight in every moment, from even just trying to ease tensions by playing the violin, to later every single reactionary moment through the battle where you can feel every moment of loss most through him. Leading eventually to his final scene where I think you do see the most weakness of the film get in the way, as the more human idea of Crockett is pushed aside for his hero moment as he unleashes his disgust against General Santa Anna rather than ask for mercy. There was probably a way to reach this point, where we see Davy purposefully play up the notion of being the “legend” that could’ve been better realized, however I wouldn’t say on a writing side entirely builds up to it perfectly. Having said that, I think Thornton does more than an admirable job of not overplaying the moment, finding the needed venom in his delivery, the disdain in his eyes, and his “what the hell” moment of accepting his demise to make it work as well as he can. And while in a way I think it is his least interesting scene, as he more so becomes part of the rest of the film so to speak, he in no way gives a bad performance in the scene. Thornton’s work and the character of Crockett however is a testament to the potential of the film, because he does offer a complex and more subtle depiction of the historical figure. Given how good Thornton is here working with the imperfect material, I would say if the film had maybe stuck closer to these ideas, we might’ve had a truly great historical epic and I think Thornton could’ve gone even further in the role. Having said that, even existing in a flawed film, Thornton does his best to elevate what he has and is by the far the most worthwhile element of the film. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Daniel Wu in New Police Story

Daniel Wu did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Joe Kwan in New Police Story. 

New Police Story follows a superstar police officer Chan (Jackie Chan) as he faces off against a team of young criminals. 

Daniel Wu plays Joe Kwan, the head of those criminals who solely exist to pester Officer Chan, and appear early on as a masked crew who entrap Chan’s fellow officers, putting them in a death trap then forcing Chan to play various games of skill unless they kill the officers. Wu is the figurehead of this group and essentially plays the part as very much the smug snake. There isn’t too much complication early on as he just smiles with a casual disgust for Chan and in every delivery basically pronouncing his own greatness compared to Chan, as he kills those officers with only a bit of joy and certainly without any hesitation. He certainly is one of the villains that exist in an action movie. 

This sends Chan down a spiral, only becomes reinvigorated when a young police officer Frank (Nicholas Tse), who also reinvigorates the movie by being the best part of the film, through his easy going charisma, natural humor he finds throughout but also very much delivering on the stakes even when his co-stars aren’t quite as convincing. Tse’s simple fun to watch in bringing that endearing energy through every scene he is, including the action scenes where he's sort of more surprised though trying to go with the flow demeanor just adds to each and every one. Although this is common for Tse, and by that I mean I seem to be often reviewing a different performance from a Hong Kong film where Nicholas Tse is the best part. Back to the requested performance, Wu on the other hand I don’t find particularly or endearing or menacing, as we learn his character is the privileged, screw up son of the chief of police. An element that doesn’t exactly make him more menacing or sympathetic for the most part. Rather as Wu played the note of smugness as the villain, as the son he presents a very generalized fed up rebellion and not much more. We proceed then to follow the heroes, who become a bit more interesting thanks to the efforts of Tse. He brings a bit of wily conviction as we learn he’s a fake policeman who pretended to be one to avenge his family against the gang. An element Tse does what he can with and again makes for the one character I actually care about fully in the film. 

This eventually leads to some fights between the sides, where we mostly get Wu doing his best, I’m smelling something face, followed by that overly satisfied smile as he gets away. Pretty much rinse and repeat until the final confrontation, where he and Chan play one more game of put together the gun and shoot it. That’s where Wu is at his best because the loss of that smug face as he sees Chan will win, is a more than decent moment. Followed by Joe choosing to get killed by the cops then turn himself in to his own father. Wu is good to bad in this moment, as his initial reaction of anguish at this realization of his humiliation and there is some sense of the years of that relationship with his father. Then he falls into just some emotional mugging and becomes considerably less good by the end of it. Leaving this to be a not particularly impactful villainous turn in any way. Tse on the other hand makes for a strong surprising sidekick who quite frankly steals the film from Chan, to the point you wish he had more to work with, more to do as what only holds him back is the film is only kind of interested in his character.