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

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

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

Troy tells the story of the Trojan war.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Nick Nolte in Clean

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

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

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

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

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

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 2004: Cameron Bright in Birth

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

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

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

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