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)