Alternate Best Actor 1946: Franco Interlenghi in Shoeshine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alternate Best Actor 1946: Charles Boyer in Cluny Brown

Charles Boyer did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Adam Belinski in Cluny Brown.

Cluny Brown is a wonderful romantic satire of a European professor and the niece of a plumber who together don’t quite fit into the rigid expectations of English society. 

We return to Charles Boyer quite swiftly after his long absence to another un-nominated turn of his. Boyer in this instance plays the atypical lead as a European professor and writer escaping from the Nazi’s for his expressly anti-Nazi views. Although that may sound very dramatic, we actually begin with Adam Belinski just arriving to some random party in England early and in fact being mistaken for a plumber. Boyer is really taking upon two challenges of this role that I would necessarily have pegged him as being ideal for before watching this film yet he absolutely is. The first challenge really is the dialogue itself which is fairly rapid fire for Belinski specifically as he talks circles around everyone, and while Boyer frequently has a more deliberate delivery in most films, in this film he thrives with the far greater tempo. Boyer has an ease with his dialogue and it really just so naturally flows throughout where Boyer through this exudes the intelligence of his Belinski with such considerable ease. There’s the next challenge though is that all this superior intelligence could easily come off as pompous, but Boyer is damn charming here. Boyer’s magnificent in the way he’s able to articulate the nature of Belinski who is smarter than everyone, knows this fact, yet I think he manages to find the tricky high wire of owning but still making Belinski so likable. I think Boyer knows how to emphasize the fun of it all and only brings a more admonishing quality in his quick asides when Belinski is being more corrective against societal foolishness. We even have the opening meeting where he basically gets the host to let him sleep somewhere through this word juggling that Boyer makes so easy to in a way talking down to the man’s manner yet doing so in a way in which he seems the most gracious of teachers. 

The party though leads to two different meetings, one is meeting a young man of wealthy family Andrew (Peter Lawford) who is currently struggling to confirm his romantic relationship Betty Cream (Helen Walker) who is purposefully playing a love triangle between him and another man. Andrew knows of Belinski and offers him a place to stay at his parent’s mansion. I love Boyer’s reactions to the young man’s earnest but also political posturing, where he so naturally manages to bring a graciousness while wholly sarcastically appreciating the young man’s act of writing letters to a newspaper as his great act. Regardless Belinski takes up the offer, and I think what Boyer manages to do though is create in even his sarcasm this genuine glint of appreciation of any passion for his cause even if perhaps the safest. The even more important meeting though comes from the titular Cluny Brown (Jennifer Jones) who acts on her uncle’s behalf, though not with his knowledge, to fix the man’s plumbing issues. Cluny, who loves to plumb, is a ball of fire of enthusiasm though too she ignores the expectations of society though more so in being exactly who she is than coming at Belinski’s intellectual superiority. Either way Boyer’s great in being as impressed with the young woman’s candor, as frankly we the audience are. Boyer’s wonderful in presenting this utter fascination towards Cluny as someone far above and beyond the norm, while offering even this minor self-depication as a non-romantic pact to support each other in their ill-fitting ways. 

Belinski becomes a guest at the house of Andrew’s family which by chance, at the same time Cluny is hired as their new maid, in an attempt by her uncle to set her on the "right path". Although she is almost immediately fired for speaking freely at meals by earnestly suggesting the best food, only saved by Belinski’s intercession pointing out that the host indeed took the piece she suggested. Boyer’s great in just his work of his eyes of admiration but also kind of taking in each scene with the sense of criticism being prepared before he says them, though delivered again in that fantastic way of confronting without confrontation that Boyer makes feel so natural each time. Belinski’s indirect methods get the best of him when he learns Cluny is seeing a local chemist as a romantic partner just as he realizes his own interest in her as such. Something I think Boyer again thrives in his way of cultivating the sense of true admiration that goes beyond just enjoying her rejection of norms but loving everything she does. Boyer’s fantastic in showing this as even something that knocks Belinski back in the moments where he gives his hand away particularly in the almost childlike enthusiasm he brings as Belinski questions Betty if the talkative Cluny ever mentions him. Meanwhile Belinski is still plying his methods beyond that such as directly trying to resolve the Betty, Arthur issue by simply asking her what’s the deal. Where I do love Boyer is just playing the directness of it so well but with his natural humorous touches. Even the moment of commenting on the need to press on in his Anti-Nazi effort, Boyer I think beautifully hits that passionate note with a quiet conviction that reveals the real heart of Belinski. Speaking of my favorite moment of his performance actually isn’t the wit, as much as I’ve enjoyed that, it is a moment of certain earnestness. That is when he’s leaving, thinking Cluny will be married off, she rushes to meet him before he leaves. Where we do get the key chemistry between Jones, where it is less of lusty eyes but rather the combination of Cluny getting to be herself while Boyer projecting nothing but the purest appreciation where both honestly glow as one. I love the pivotal moment where Boyer shows Belinski taking his usual appreciation of Cluny’s one of a kind qualities, until she notes that she was coldly dismissed by the chemist, his mother and other guests for daring to do some needed plumbing. There’s a surprising power in the humor completely lifting from Boyer’s face and there being nothing but deep concern for this horrible treatment of Cluny. Boyer unlocks the key of the moment so naturally in seeing as much as he adores the idiosyncrasy of her, he also hates the rejection of her. A relatively swift wrap up to the film, however honestly it wholly worked for me greatly because I feel both Boyer and Jones deliver the moment so honestly you can’t help but feel they should be together. 

Alternate Best Actor 1946: Michel Simon in Panique

Michel Simon did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Monsieur Hire in Panique.

Panique follows an eccentric outsider as he gets slowly set up to take the fall of a murder by the murderer and his accomplice girlfriend. 

Simon honestly doesn’t play a role too far removed from his work with Jean Renoir in La Chienne. Where both films are essentially setups for one man to be treated cruelly by a couple with the woman acting as a black widow to ensnare the unsuspecting man. A key word in both instances however is unsuspecting, not innocent. We first really see Hire from a bit of a distance as a potentially suspicious man as the film opens with the murder of a woman and the whole town wondering who might be the culprit. We see Hire lurking about and Simon in a way creates the potential doubt where the man is knowingly looking on in these moments and it seems like he knows something. Well he does know something as a new woman comes into town, Alice (Viviane Romance), who has already helped the actual murderer, Alfred (Paul Bernard), cover up a different murder before even coming to see him as a false stranger so they can be together while avoiding police suspicion. Simon plays directly a creep figure as he leers at Alice from his window then even approaches her the following day, in no way trying to soften those elements. Although one can argue a noble effort that Hire wants to warn her about Alfred, because he knows for sure that Alfred is the killer, since Hire knows it becomes a strange game he is also playing given he could easily turn over his evidence to the police at any time that he claims to have. Simon though is effective and convincing in presenting the strangeness in a very tangible way where you never doubt that Hire would proceed in this way as the man just has his own way about life and interacting with others. 

The film then progresses as Alice is instructed to ingratiate herself with Hire to eventually plant evidence of the murder, meanwhile Alfred spreads rumors around about the already disliked Hire to try to get the town to turn on him. In their interactions Simon manages an artful combination between some genuine pathos as he describes with this accepted manner his own life as an outsider in all places, while holding this cheery disposition when speaking of his own wife who died. In those moments Simon is quietly moving, although at the same time he does bring a certain overbearing quality in moments that again emphasize that eccentricity in ways that are less endearing. While we know Alice is manipulative, and the real reason why she’s there, Simon very much presents a certain obliviousness even with some bits of creepiness as the man is just fascinated by this woman who is bothering to give him the time of day. I haven’t said it in awhile but this film is a bit of a director’s film where the overall vision is most pronounced and to a certain point the characters are more so puzzle pieces in that tapestry more than fully coming to life beyond it. At a certain point Hire is given less time, particularly in the lead up to the climax, although he returns for the climax where Simon certainly is moving and makes his whole scene of becoming a pariah hard to watch. Simon emphasizing just the confusion of the moment that turns to fear and just the final sorrow in his eyes is heartbreaking. There is however a certain limitation by the nature of the script however and by comparison the similar role in La Chienne had more he could sink his teeth into, no pun intended. It’s a good performance as Simon creates the tragedy both in terms of showing why people might not trust Hire, why Hire might conceal his knowledge of the murder, but also how he still is a victim regardless. 

Alternate Best Actor 1946: Sydney Greenstreet & Peter Lorre in The Verdict

Sydney Greenstreet did not receive an Oscar nomination nor did Peter Lorre for portraying Superintendent George Grodman and Victor Emmric respectively in The Verdict. 

The Verdict follows the murder investigation in gaslit London. 

The film opens as we follow Greenstreet, this time on the side of the law, following the execution of a man he had led the investigation of only to learn the man was innocent due to the arrival of a key witness in the most inopportune time. Greenstreet has a most remarkable presence as a performer which certainly can be seen here. This role though I would say is far more interesting on paper than execution. Greenstreet opens with just a repeated simplistic scene of needing to present the Inspector contemplating his failure with a quietly needling guilt, not helped by his pompous replacement Buckley (George Coulouris) lording over his failure. He does that though I wouldn’t say I was deeply moved by what Greenstreet is doing but he delivers on it in a general sense. We soon find another murder that seems even more difficult to solve, which while Buckley is now leading the investigation, Greenstreet's Grodman seems always in orbit of the situation. Where the film enters its atypical section where it is constantly switching perspectives of the characters and plants so many seemingly red herrings in there just to throw everyone off the trail it would seem. One of these characters is George’s friend Victory played by Lorre, an artist also fascinated by crime. 

Where we get a legendary duo who were in many films together since their great mutual villainy in The Maltese Falcon. Unlike that film though neither man is getting to enjoy a great character as Victor is vaguely drawn, no pun intended, what is there is mostly just that Lorre is innately a little interesting. This isn’t one of Lorre’s most interesting roles though we get a bit of him being a cad and some differing moments of fascination and fear around the investigation. Again I appreciate Lorre’s presence but as Lorre performances go it isn’t all that distinctive. I think this might be in part by the design of the film to keep you guessing as Lorre must only be “kind of” things that way he might be the killer as he acts kind of creepy, however kind of innocent too, kind of fearful, and it’s all a little too little for him to really play with. Speaking of that, Greenstreet stays mainly imperious as the inspector is always there with a comment, not always very interesting and the man seems a little blank. This too is to set up the mystery to lead to the spoilers, revelation that he is in fact the killer. Although a noble killer as he’s killed the killer of the original murder, though less noble in having done it in a way that framed an innocent man and to make Buckley look foolish. So in order to make it surprising Greenstreet was just kind of there, so the revelation should be time to sink his teeth in right? Wrong. Greenstreet is surprisingly muted in the delivery of every bit of revelation. He’s not bad but it does all feel a bit too matter of fact for announcing such a grand plan to everyone. Even his final aside to Lorre is fine but also just kind of exists more than really enlivens their characters into anything more. There’s nothing special about this team-up between the pair. It’s nice to have their presences but the roles don’t allow either to really run with anything and are victims of the film needing to preserve the mystery, though in doing so I don’t think makes the film terribly compelling. If I'm being perfectly honest I was more compelled by Coulouris and Joan Lorring, because it felt like they were actually able to define their characters. Which it is quite rare for Greenstreet and Lorre not to standout in one of their films but in this instance they really don't, though they're not bad, but look to their earlier collaborations for their far more memorable work. 

Alternate Best Actor 1946

 And the Nominees Were Not:

 

Michel Simon in Panique

 

Michael Redgrave in The Captive Heart

 

Charles Boyer in Cluny Brown

 

Franco Interlenghi in Shoeshine

 

Sydney Greenstreet in The Verdict  

1930 Update

Updated

 

Next: 1946 Lead 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1953: Hans Conried in The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T, Roland Lesaffre in Thérèse Raquin & Isao Yamagata in Gate of Hell & Updated Results

Hans Conried did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Dr. Terwilliker aka the titular character of The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T.

The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T follows a young boy imagining his imperious piano teacher as a dictator of a fantasy world. 

Hans Conried who had a long voice actor career, with probably his most notable role in that vein coming the same year as Captain Hook/Mr. Darling in Peter Pan, was given the rare opportunity for a large live action role here as the Dr. Terwilliker aka Dr. T, the piano teacher of the young boy Tommy, because of course his name is Tommy. Conried makes the most out of it and very much is the one actor in the film who is absolutely certain on how to sell the style of Dr. Seuss in the live action form. Although we do get his subtler version of his performance in the reality scene before Tommy’s dream version as we see the actual teacher Dr. Terwilliker. Conried makes good use of the scene bringing a slightly dramatic manner to his teacher who is deeply concerned that Tommy will not be up to snuff when all his students perform together. Conried though finds just enough a reality in his reactions behind his spoken overtures that shows that this Dr. T is just a slightly dramatic guy, but still just a guy. I think it’s unfortunate that we never really get him to do a final scene with this version of the character but it is what it is. So then we shift to the crazy fantasy world of Tommy’s dream version where Dr. T is a dictatorial master of this strange world, where he hypnotizes Tommy’s mother, and wants Tommy forced to be part of his large orchestra of children forced to play piano. Conried’s performance is the one that understands the tone of the material and more importantly how to sell it. He brings the proper bit of wacky bravado as this version of Dr. T in his over the top costumes and wholly over the top villainous demeanor. Conried is having a blast and it is hard not to have it with him as he sneers at everyone, makes every declaration as though they are the most important words in the world and continually torments Tommy. It’s a fun performance where Conried is both aware of how to play into the over the top qualities of the film while also bringing this certain conviction about everything he does that also sells the world. It is a nicely balancing act that Conried makes look easy. Leading to a nice contrasting climax one where he gets his own song, singing basically about his various overly flamboyant duds where Conried beautifully plays into the vast ego of Dr. T just exuding the ideal sinister job of an evil man who loves being evil. Followed by his defeat scene where Tommy gets the best of him, and Conried again does what he can in making his over the top frustrations as cathartic as he can. Conried creating the sense of that ego loss just as he loses it. Conried consistently is the highlight here, one of the few things not overshadowed by the sets rather he amplifies them, and like the sets, exhibits the potential the film had that sadly most of it is left unrealized. 

Roland Lesaffre did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Riton in Thérèse Raquin. 

Thérèse Raquin follows the titular woman (Simone Signoret) as she embarks on an affair leading to consequences. 

Roland Lesaffre enters very late in the film, in fact initially seems innocuous enough as just a sailor who is sleeping in the train car that Thérèse pretending to be sleeping in, after her lover Laurent (Raf Vallone) killed her husband Camille (Jacques Duby). Lesaffre’s initial scene is very quiet and not particularly showy however he does bring a certain charisma even as his Riton mostly goes along with Thérèse’s claim initially. Lesaffre’s eye performance though is great because you see this internal calculation of the man as though he’s filing something away even as he gives a pretty innocuous answer that seems to put Thérèse in the clear. Of course his Riton is the wrinkle in the plot and the film in the best way possible. Lesaffre instantly brings such a remarkable presence as we unexpectedly visit him again and he does so much with just a few glances as he looks over the information about the death of the man he gave an alibi to. His performance has a fantastic quiet charm about it, mainly by presenting a man who is very much taking ownership of his own questionable ethics, however is doing it in a way that does have a strange allure. Lesaffre enters into the film in a particularly fascinating way because he becomes the star of his own film and has that charisma to back it up. Where we very much become absorbed into his own conflicting noir plot as he decides to blackmail Laurent and Thérèse. Lesaffre comes into this sequence with such a wonderful mischievous quality as he asks for his share. Lesaffre’s fascinating because he really doesn’t accentuate it as an over the top villain and more so a businessman who merely wants his share given he went along with providing protection of their crime. 

Lesaffre’s wonderful as even as he takes some literal physical abuse from Laurent, while still reacting to the pain, his smile afterwards is someone taking in stride as though he understands he’ll get a few punches yet still brings this pleasant conviction of a man who knows he’ll get what he wants from the couple. He’s fascinating because he honestly is just fun to watch here and weirdly pushes the lovers out of the lead spot, and becomes the lead just through sheer presence, even if in the overall scheme of the film he definitely is a supporting role. Lesaffre brings so much life to every bit she has though that it just makes what could be a character just to do a plot point, like say the similar character in The Postman Always Rings Twice, and has this full life of his own. Lesaffre, even within a scene plot wise to set up the final twist of fate, brings so much charm and character as he speaks to a maid to set up a back up plan. Lesaffre brings a wonderful flirtatious energy of someone who is basically seeing a major financial uptick in his future and taking ownership of that joy in every second of the process. Lesaffre importantly letting us in on his scheme essentially and again just having fun with it. I love then the final transaction where we see the duplicitous man go by his word as he accepts the money and he brings in his delivery a strange honesty in his dishonesty of someone who willingly accepts the funds without any intention of breaking his promise, despite having no reason not to keep blackmailing them. Lesaffre makes it more interesting though by presenting a man with his own moral code he goes by leading perfectly to his final memorable scene where a comical misfortune strikes. I love what Lesaffre’s final reaction is because there’s basically a “oops sorry” and in his expression you see that he feels genuinely sorry that the unexpected situation will leave him unable to fulfill the promise he was paid for. Lesaffre delivers a terrific performance that doesn’t just take over the second half of the film, his chaotic presence in the second half elevates the entirety of the film by offering such an unexpected and wholly fresh style that enlivens the last act beautifully. 

Isao Yamagata did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Wataru Watanabe in Gate of Hell.

In Gate of Hell we follow mostly as the violent warrior Endo (Kazuo Hasegawa) becomes obsessed with Lady Kesa (Machiko Kyō), requesting her essentially as a prize from their overlord for his efforts in battle. Of course Lady Kesa is married to Isa Yamagata’s Watanabe. A character and performance I thought I’d highlight because of how antithetical it is to so many samurai performances. Yamagata honestly plays the part as mostly just chill. To the point that even as Endo becomes more aggressive, Yamagata’s performance projects more a bemusement at the insanity of the other guy rather than any sense of jealousy. There’s a degree of concern for his wife but Yamagata always expresses it as concern for her well being and never concern for his “claim” of her in any way shape or form. What Yamagata emphasizes instead is just how healthy of a relationship he and Kesa have. Yamagata is very sincere with her and just has a sense of a loving grace. Even as the outside conflict arises Yamagata’s performance always emphasizes the warmth and love for his wife beyond anything else. No matter what show of it Endo makes, Yamagata presents that Wataru is honestly the ideal husband for Kesa and to break it would be a horrible sin. Yamagata even when reacting to the horrible Endo, presents more of a "this guy needs some mental help" more so than "I hate this guy". This is to the point in the finale when tragedy strikes, I love again that Yamagata’s performance again does not show any hate, to frankly someone who deserves all the hate since the tragedy should’ve been easily avoided, but rather his subdued yet potent reaction is that of just a heartbroken man who has lost his wife. There’s no hate, but again just that sense of love for his wife. It is a subtle and poignant performance by Yamagata because he doesn’t show us your great samurai, jealous husband, or any of that. What he does to define the performance is just a guy who loves his wife, and no matter what the complication might be, that never changes.

Updated Overall 

 

Next: 1930 Update 

Alternate Best Actor 1953: Results

5. Kazou Hasegawa in Gate of Hell - Hasegawa is able to hit the extreme notes called upon him as a character with limited substance but is very much overshadowed by his co-stars who express a bit more nuance in their roles. 

 

Best Scene:  Ending

 

4. Jack Hawkins in The Cruel Sea - Hawkins gives a reliably good performance however his fully lead performance here suggests the possible limitations of his ability as a leading man as a opposed to a character actor. 

 

Best Scene: After the choosing to ignore the men in the sea. 

3. Charles Boyer in The Earrings of Madame de…. - Boyer gives an effective performance in very much playing into his imperious presence in an effective way as essentially presenting his character as above typical human interaction.

 

Best Scene: Requesting the duel. 

2. James Stewart in The Naked Spur - Stewart gives an effectively raw portrayal of a damaged man and successfully downplays his typical charm and heroic presence. 

 

Best Scene: Making the final choice. 

1. Chishū Ryū in Tokyo Story - Good prediction Calvin. Ryū gives a low key but powerful portrayal of the different quiet shades of a father and finding the joy but also painful truths of this man. 

 

Best Scene: Tragedy strikes 

Updated Overall 

 

Next: 1953 Supporting Reviews (Not a lineup) 

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