Showing posts with label 1962 Alternate Best Actor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1962 Alternate Best Actor. Show all posts

Sunday, 10 January 2016

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Results

10. Oskar Werner in Jules and Jim - Werner's role is limited yet his unassuming charm manages to keep himself from being overshadowed despite the film's apparent desire otherwise.

Best Scene: Jules talks about Catherine's True Nature.
9. Montgomery Clift in Freud - Clift manages to create a compelling portrait of Freud not through mannerisms, but rather finding the emotional core within the man's motivations.

Best Scene: Freud finding the truth behind Cecily's mental trauma.
8. Laurence Harvey in The Manchurian Candidate - Harvey portrays well the cold calculated man turned into a cold killer, but also manages to be extremely moving in portraying the vulnerabilities of the man.

Best Scene: The Assassination
7. Patrick McGoohan in in All Night Long - McGoohan gives a fascinating portrayal of an Iago like drummer, whose greatest joy comes from the torment of others.

Best Scene: Johnnie "accidentally" spills secrets to Rex. 
6. Toshiro Mifune in Sanjuro - Mifune gives a great reprise of his role in Yojimbo, by slanting towards comedy and succeeding quite thoroughly in this regard.

Best Scene: The samurai observes the rescued women. 
5. Tom Courtenay in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner - I'll say right now that I had a great difficulty ranking these five, and found it even more impossible when having to include Peck, Wayne and Lemmon. These are all exceptional performances starting with Courtenay's intense yet heart wrenching depiction of young man lashing out due to his hatred of authority but also from his own fear.

Best Scene: The Beach.
4. James Stewart in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance - Stewart gives one of his best performances as both a young man passionately fighting for what is right, as well as an older man forcing to live with the lie that made his life.

Best Scene: The Senator finishes the story.
3. Robert Mitchum in Cape Fear - Mitchum creates one of the all time great cinematic villains, not through the depiction of a mastermind, but rather a violent creep who's completely content with his actions.

Best Scene: Cady's mentions his wife.
2. Tatsuya Nakadai in Harakiri - Nakadai gives an outstanding performance as he realizes not only an otherworldly spirit of righteous vengeance, but also the man who became it.  

Best Scene: Hanshiro Tsugumo finishes his story. 
1. James Mason in Lolita - Good Predictions JackiBoyz, RatedRStar. Mason gives an outstanding performance as he manages to balance everything in the film. He's the perfect straight man for Sellers's comedy, he manages to make Humbert far more sympathetic than should be possible, while giving an absolutely mesmerizing depiction of man being destroyed mentally and physically by his unhealthy obsession.    

Best Scene: Humbert confronts Quilty.
Overall Rank:
  1. Peter O'Toole in Lawrence of Arabia
  2. James Mason in Lolita
  3. Tatsuya Nakadai in Harakiri
  4. Jack Lemmon in The Days of Wine and Roses
  5. Robert Mitchum in Cape Fear
  6. Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird
  7. James Stewart in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
  8. Tom Courtenay in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner
  9. John Wayne in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
  10. Terence Stamp in Billy Budd
  11. Toshiro Mifune in Sanjuro
  12. Patrick McGoohan in All Night Long
  13. Laurence Harvey in The Manchurian Candidate
  14. Frank Sinatra in The Manchurian Candidate 
  15. Trevor Howard in Mutiny on the Bounty
  16. Richard Attenborough in Trial and Error 
  17. Phillip Alford in To Kill a Mockingbird
  18. Montgomery Clift in Freud
  19. Sean Connery in Dr. No 
  20. Paul Newman in Sweet Bird of Youth 
  21. Peter Ustinov in Billy Budd
  22. Gregory Peck in Cape Fear
  23. Oskar Werner in Jules and Jim  
  24. Peter Sellers in Trial and Error
  25. Robert Preston in The Music Man
  26. Paul Harris in All Night Long
  27. Burt Lancaster in Birdman of Alcatraz
  28. Henri Serre in Jules and Jim
  29. Marlon Brando in Mutiny on the Bounty
Next: The Waiting Game. 

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Oskar Werner in Jules and Jim

Oskar Werner did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Jules in Jules and Jim.

Jules and Jim tells the story of the long lasting love triangle involving two friends and a very impetuous woman Catherine (Jeanne Moreau).

Jules and Jim is directed with a certain dreamy quality by Francois Truffaut. The music is always has this certain ease, as does the cinematography, and even the narration has this certain calm to it. There is a lightness kept to the story that stays even when one break in the story is a war. The earliest scenes of the film are shown all as some romantic vacation of sorts as Jules, and his friend Jim (Henri Serre) seems to live a life of such ease. This section in particular more of depicts images of the friendship between Jules and Jim, as well as Jules romance with Catherine, rather than detailed interactions between the two. Werner's performance is very much limited, though he is effective in depicting a certain spontaneous joy as we see him randomly live his life with Jim, and Catherine. Werner's work, like the film itself at this point, is purposefully breezy. as Werner quite plainly portrays a man enjoying life. This eventually ends on Jules marrying Catherine, and with that the film makes its first shift with both Jules and Jim entering into World War I.

World War I is only shown to be a brief distraction in terms of the story. The tone changes slightly, it still retains the same style, but Jules, Jim and Catherine all seem to slow down a bit. Jules's letter to Catherine is the moment of change for Werner's performance as he becomes far more restrained and frankly less enthusiastic in his performance. Werner is indeed quite effective in realizes the wear of the war, and the changed caused by just through his performance as there is clearly less joy in Jules, as he writes the letter to his wife. This continues as the story does as even after the war it becomes clear that Catherine's nature will cause her to ignore him, and in this case in favor of his friend Jim, even though the two have already had children. Julies, even though Catherine is leaving him, does not react as a jilted lover, and instead Werner depicts Jules as very much resigned in this fate. Werner, making use of that earlier scene during the war, actually makes this a fairly natural transition, and allows Jules's nonchalance towards Catherine's pursuit of Him, believable. 

Werner carries the right sort of melancholy quality to Jules in any scene in which he discusses Catherine with Jim, as Werner echoes a certain despair, but as much depicts a sad understanding of exactly the woman she is. This leaves Jules in a strange spot, as well as Werner in a rather difficult place within the film as well. Jules actually becomes quite static for basically the second half of the film, as Jules must merely observe Jim and Catherine's behavior, while only really staying around because he's the father of Catherine's children. To Werner's credit though he actually isn't overshadowed, despite the story forcing him into such a position. Werner manages to get by through extremely low key charm, and just as well keeping a consistent honesty in his portrayal of Jules as he just keeps to himself while Jim and Catherine live out their problematic affair. Though Jules is often ignored as that affair becomes more intense, the final moments of the film end up from Jules's perspective. Even in this it is somewhat limited, though Werner's silent final moments are fairly moving as he reflects Jules's loss, as Jules once again remains the odd one out. Werner gives a good performance as his withdrawn yet engaging screen presence keeps Jules from being forgotten even when the film seems to have forgotten about him.

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Robert Mitchum in Cape Fear

Robert Mitchum did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Max Cady in Cape Fear.

Cape Fear is a very effective thriller about an ex-convict terrorizing a man Sam Bowden (Gregory Peck) and his family, due to Sam having been essential to the man's arrest and conviction.

The man being none other than Max Cady played by Robert Mitchum. Now the last time I covered a performance by Mitchum was for his stellar performance as the Reverend Harry Powell in The Night of the Hunter. In that film Powell was a man with a delusion that he had a higher importance as a servant of God, and Mitchum played him with a fitting stylistic flair. Well here Mitchum plays a man who has no such delusions of a higher importance. Cady is low down scum, and Mitchum plays it as though Cady is well aware of that fact. Mitchum's performance is brilliant though in the way he maneuvers the whole character. In the earliest scenes we get Cady as he stalks Sam and his family though in a way as though he just accidentally has shown up each time. Mitchum has an ease about himself in his work that actually far more off putting. Mitchum's manner is very specific and we see from Sam's view a man carefully watching his family, while anyone else just in a cursory glance wouldn't notice anything wrong at all. Yet at that closer examination, even before we learn anything about Cady, it is clear that there is something very wrong with the man. Again though Mitchum's so good in that he makes something so quietly wrong about him, in just that certain slight smile of his, and those eyes which are relaxed yet constant in their gaze.

Accents are always a tricky thing, as they can sometimes almost cripple a performance, like another guy who took his hand at playing Max Cady sometime down the road. Mitchum's accent here is masterful though in the subtle southern drawl in his voice that adds so much to his character. There's something so terrific about Mitchum's work is that from the start of the film, the whole plan really is in Cady's mind the entire time. In turn Mitchum plays Cady as quite the relaxed fellow, and there is something quite unpleasant about just how relaxed Mitchum is in the role. The reason being that Mitchum does not present as though Cady does not care, but rather his plan of revenge is all that's on his plate in terms of life plans so there's no need to rush things. When at one point Sam tries to buy him off, Cady flatly puts it that would mean Sam's getting off too easy, and this idea is perfectly realized through Mitchum's performance. When Cady just watches Sam, with Sam knowing, or Sam directly tells him to leave him alone, there is such a sick pleasure that Mitchum reflects in his face as he is loving every minute he makes Sam for every minute he believes he suffered in prison. Mitchum shows Cady's will to wait, because for him waiting is half of the fun.

Mitchum's whole performance here is completely spellbinding in a strange way because of just how smooth and elegant he is in playing a man who could be possibly best described as gutter trash. Again Mitchum though only uses this to add to the tension of the film by such a terrible man, though is able to come across as respectable enough though in a most peculiar way. Mitchum does not make it as a facade which is truly remarkable about his work. Instead Mitchum is able to make Cady so comfortable about himself that to be as despicable as he is does not phase him in the least. One of the most chilling scenes in the film actually is when Sam attempts to bribe Cady away. Cady goes about telling Sam something he supposedly lost from his prison time, that being his wife and child. Cady though is not telling this to Sam to garner sympathy or offer even a real reason for his vengeance, but instead simply setting up a story he feels best explains his intent. The story being that he later brutally raped his wife, who remarried, and blackmailed her into inaction. What's so unnerving about the story is how Mitchum manages to be so convincing in portraying the ease in which Cady tells the story. Anger does not even haunt the description, Mitchum instead presents a man content with exactly who he is.

Cady's a diabolical villain in a unique obnoxious sort of way, in that Cady's method of avoiding getting caught before in acting his revenge is to use every law in the book to keep the police's hands tied, and even potentially Sam in legal trouble. Mitchum again is marvelous as he again plays Cady as very self aware, and carries himself in such a smug fashion as he utilizes his abuse of the law to the point that he flaunts it right in Sam's face. One particularly effective scene of this is when Sam spots Cady lurking around his family, and he he physically assaults him, with Mitchum again only exuding such a devious pleasure as he plays the victim to the group of onlookers. A realization from watching his performance eventually comes in that how believable Mitchum makes Cady, and he is genuinely terrifying as it is not difficult to imagine being hounded by such a man. It's genius on Mitchum part in that he realizes this so effortlessly and makes him a ticking time bomb without the certain direct intensity you might expect. The thing is even with all the earlier scenes of Cady being such amoral fiend, and even though it is indeed not a facade, that's not all there is to Cady. In fact as Cady himself might say all that before that was just kids stuff, Mitchum still has something up his sleeve "that you ain't ever gonna forget".

That being when Cady finally makes his moves against Sam, which is not against Sam himself, but rather against Sam's wife and daughter. The animal within the confident man reveals itself and Mitchum is absolutely startling in revealing the primal viciousness in Cady as he goes about his task which includes murdering a man sent to guard the Bowdens. Mitchum reveals a most disturbing determination in Cady as he finds such a vile passion in Cady, even when he attacking Sam's wife while suggesting she sacrifice herself for her daughters sake. Again Mitchum is so chilling though by still keeping a calm in Cady as he makes such horrible suggestions, or even when he terrifies Sam's daughter just by staring at her in such a sick, yet gentle fashion. Mitchum plays the whole sequence as a man basically living out his dream. When Sam comes to stop him, and is ready to kill Cady. Mitchum final blunt deliver of "Go ahead I just don't give a damn" at the prospect of death is only fitting to his Cady. As Mitchum shows that the revenge was all there was to his life, and being denied that, well he might as well as die. This is outstanding work from Robert Mitchum as well as one those cases where the actor manages to make his performance engaging just in itself. Mitchum's performance is never without purpose. He brings the titular fear to the film through his portrayal that proves a villain can be frightening while barely even raising his voice. 

Sunday, 3 January 2016

Alternate Best Actor 1962: James Stewart and John Wayne in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

James Stewart did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Ransom Stoddard in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is perhaps John Ford's best western about two men's whose lives are intertwined by one vicious outlaw.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is perhaps Ford's most introspective western as it is no way about merely the good people defeating the bad elements in the west. After all we know right from the title that the outlaw Liberty Valance (Lee Marvin) is going to die. Although the basis for much of the story alludes to this confrontation is seems far more interested in the examination of the historical interpretation of the event. The film actually begins only reinforces the inevitable all the more as we appear to meet the titular man as he arrives in the town where the event took place, now a much older, and very successful United States Senator. Oddly enough these scenes have Stewart actually nearer to his actual age, than the scenes set in the past. In these scenes though Stewart reflects a man who has been created from a life of rich reward. He truly is the politician he was meant to become now as Stewart carries himself with certain grandeur about himself, and that anytime in which he speaks to people, who are not old friends, he does it with strong voice which has clearly made more than a few important speeches in its time. He appears to the great man the local press wishes him to be, though when mentioning why Ransom has returned to the town, the politician begins to fade away.

We then jump back to the past when Ransom first arrived in the west where the first thing that happens to him is he is robbed and beaten by Liberty Valance and his gang. It is quite incredible actually that Stewart somehow manages to not show his age with his performance, despite obviously looking older Stewart in no way seems like a man of over fifty playing the part. Stewart in the first scene successfully calls back to the early phase of his career bringing that similair sort of energy to his performance as he attempts to deal with Liberty. Stewart brings that sort of youthful passion, found in say his performance in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, as he espouses his outrage out of Liberty's behavior which leaves him from an inch of his life. Ransom is saved by a local Tom Doniphon played by John Wayne. I guess I'm legally required at this point that Wayne was also not nominated for his performance in this film. Anyway with The Quiet Man and The Searchers I covered performances by Wayne where he was a bit out of his comfort zone, or at least his type. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance on the outset seem in Wayne's comfort zone, after all parodies and imitations of Wayne always use the line "pilgrim", even though this is the only film where he really said it.

Now Wayne's performance here is very intriguing example of Wayne's onscreen persona, because actually of the limited view we are given to Doniphon in the film. Now this raises a point of order whether or not Wayne is actually co-lead with Stewart, or in fact supporting. I'll admit this is a case where if one were to decide on either choice I would not disagree with them. After all there is only really one major scene where he is alone without Stewart, though many of the scenes where he is with Stewart he is given equal importance. I'll just say it's up for an actual debate, but for the moment I'll have in him in lead. The position in the film Wayne takes though enables for Wayne to actually give one of his most assured performances in the traditional Wayne style. If one were to ask the appeal of Wayne onscreen it would be best to point to this performance. Wayne is terrific as he is just in his element here and in turn makes Doniphon a man who is absolutely in his. Wayne's command of the screen here is truly effortless as he makes Doniphon the great man that everyone already believes him to be as the film begins. Wayne carries himself so precisely here in that you completely believe the status given to him, and like Stewart some how overrides the fact that he's too old for the part.   

Stewart is not to be forgotten though with his performance as Ransom as Stewart so effectively depicts Ransom's attempt to get a grasp on the nature of life in the west. Stewart brings a bit of that aw shucks enthusiasm here in the scenes where Ransom attempts to offer what he believes that he can offer that being his knowledge of the law and education. Stewart depicts this with a likable earnestness though also alludes to Ransom's naivety in terms of the situation he happens to be in. The ideas of the east are clearly well kept in Ransom, and Stewart brings an appropriate straight forward quality to the man as he points out a law that should put Liberty Valance behind bars, the problem is no one cares the local Marshall included. This makes Ransom the constant victim of abuse from Liberty in particular, but also others due to his manner that does not fit to the exact limits of masculinity expected in the west. Stewart is very good in providing a gradual emotional breakdown of sorts in Ransom as he stands for himself his own way though is repeatedly beaten down and disrespected nonetheless. This partially even comes from Doniphon himself as the two are connected mainly by two things.

The first being Liberty Valance as Ransom is consistently ridiculed by him, and brings Doniphon into the mix as well. There is a great scene between Stewart, Wayne, as well as Lee Marvin when Liberty trips Ransom on his way to deliver a steak dinner to Doniphon leading to a face off. Wayne is exceptional in bringing such palatable  intensity as Doniphon stares down Valance and makes it believable that even Liberty could back off from the stare. Although the two are in such a showdown of powerful personalities that leaves Ransom. Stewart is not lost in the scene, but manages his own place brilliantly in depicting Ransom's outrage at both men for seeming so eager for violence. Stewart's intensity is the equal of both his co-stars, but he makes it on a different wave length of them as though it is impossible for him to connect to this sort of duel. Due to this Doniphon attempts to educate Ransom on this, somewhat harshly at times. Stewart and Wayne are pitch perfect together as they find such a clear divide between the two as they are very different men, yet within that they are convincing in developing the unsaid understanding between the two that is pivotal for the film.

Now their other connection concerns a mutual love interest Hallie (Vera Miles). Hallie is treated simply as a certainty by Doniphon, but Ransom calls this into question. I don't know if anyone other than Stewart could make Ransom's "stealing" of Hallie from Doniphon work as well as it does. Stewart's charm is so natural that he makes his interactions with Miles, to not have an even slightly problematic intent. Stewart makes it that Ransom manages to win her over, but does not even for a moment intend to do so, he just happens to. Of course these two connections ultimately come to a head when Liberty attempts to stop statehood, supported by Ransom to the point he is made a delegate to an important conference, through any violent means necessary. This leads to Ransom confronting Liberty in a duel. Stewart is amazing in the scene as he portrays a definite fear as he takes the fateful steps towards Liberty, but also a tremendous determination as he faces down the man. It appears he kills Liberty, and is hailed a hero by most. Stewart is fantastic as he portrays an overwhelming guilt in Ransom, showing a man who believes he's betrayed himself by using violence to stop problems. He is shaken out of this daze though by Doniphon. Wayne is equally strong as he shows a man perhaps even more haunted by something as he reveals he in fact saved Ransom by shooting Liberty from a distance. The result which lead Doniphon to destroy his own home, which he prepared for his life with Hallie. Wayne is heartbreaking in this scene, as he loses the qualities of that persona revealing a far more sensitive man honestly torn apart by the sacrifice he made. The sacrifice being that Doniphon murdered Liberty to save Ransom because knew Hallie loved him, and in turn lost her himself. The film then comes back to Ransom many years later successful due to the lie, while Doniphon is dead, alone, and having fallen into obscurity. Stewart is outstanding in proving such a poignant yet somber moment, as he presents Ransom without a hint of the politician. Stewart instead portrays a man almost defeated knowing that his life was not only made by a lie, but also that it was at the cost of the happiness of another. Both give two of their best performances Stewart in his portrait of a normal man made into a legend, Wayne in his portrait of a legend made into a man.

Wednesday, 30 December 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Toshiro Mifune in Sanjuro

Toshiro Mifune did not receive an Oscar nomination for playing the samurai in Sanjuro.

Sanjuro is a fantastic sequel to Yojimbo this time about the samurai trying to help a group of men
defeat the corrupt men trying to ruin their clan from within.

Now I've said again and again that it is astonishing the way Toshiro Mifune can find such a variety even in similair roles. Well here comes a challenge because Mifune is playing the exact same role he had in Yojimbo. Reprising a role, especially a heroic seemingly straight forward role often can be difficult. It not only seems difficult to regain that same exact enthusiasm, but also there usually is a problem when the character's arc was always finished by the end of the original film. Well Mifune already gave a great performance as the samurai in Yojimbo, and this time he actually has a slightly less dramatic role to play in terms of the way the story plays out. Now just that base line of the performance in terms of being the badass cool character that the samurai was in the original once again is can be found in the sequel. That old dog twitch once again is found here, and that whole easy going yet quietly intense manner. None of it feels repetitious in the least, and it is clear that Mifune lost none of his devotion to the role in the year between the reprise. Of course one might argue that all that had work was done in the first film, which is true to a point, but Mifune does deserve credit for not losing that certain magic in the transition.

The film though is different as Yojimbo, though that film had its moments of fun to be sure, it was a considerably darker story in general than Sanjuro. Though Sanjuro has some bloodshed itself  its tone in general is shifted to the lighter side of things, and I honestly I'd quite easily say that it's really a comedy. There is a reason Mifune/Kurosawa are the greatest actor/director pair of all time, and that is because it always seemed as though they were in sync with one another. That's once again the case as Mifune gives almost a purely comedic turn in his reprise here. It's intriguing as Mifune basically plays it as the samurai is taking the whole thing a bit less seriously than last time. This does not seem out of place as Sanjuro, despite having some lives on the line, is very lighthearted, for example when captured the samurai in Yojimbo was beaten to an inch of his life, here they just tie him up. This all works of course because the film actually is rather hilarious. Mifune is one of those who contributes the most to this. He was funny in Yojimbo as well when the samurai flaunted his superior intelligence over his foes, and he does this once again. Mifune though perhaps plays it up all the more, though with a slight adjustment as it is positioned to teach his allies this time rather than provoke his enemies.

Mifune is a whole lot of fun here as he basically has the samurai even more on top of his game than even in Yojimbo as he attempts to help the group of men he's helping win the day. Mifune portrays an enjoyable detachment of sorts as he helps the men, more of because it is simply his nature to do the right thing rather than having any particular affection for the men. In fact some of the funniest moments in the film are from Mifune's exasperated reactions at the men as he has to deal with the bumbling men who consistently makes the wrong decision leaving samurai to correct things. Though Mifune is so perfectly sardonic on the surface, once again though Mifune quietly conveys the honest goodness in the samurai in the moments where no one else is looking. Of course Mifune here does not even necessarily leave these moments as too serious for example in one scene where the samurai is left to look after two somewhat daffy women who were rescued from the corrupt men, Mifune delivers the genuine concern in the samurai as he watches over them, but Mifune again makes the scene very amusing actually by depicting a slight confusion in his silent reaction as he watches their somewhat bizarre behavior.

Now there is slight expansion on the character is that in this one, fitting its lighter tone, is that the samurai is getting a bit tired of killing and would rather not kill if possible. Again Mifune is very good in depicting this conflict in the samurai well portraying just a powerful yet subtle outrage in the samurai whenever he is forced to kill due to the foolishness of others. The one other mainly dramatic element in this one is in his relationship with the most competent villain of the film, Hanbei, played by Tatsuya Nakadai of course. What's interesting about this one is that even though they are at ends, more or less being the only competent member of each of their groups therefore at odds with one another, the relationship between the two is quite the opposite. Mifune does not depict a hatred in the samurai for this man instead he is quite effective in revealing a certain respect towards him, not for the actions of the man, but rather Mifune shows that the samurai senses a man who is of a similair spirit. For most of their interactions there is not any hate and Mifune is very good with Nakadai in establishing almost a friendship of sorts as the two do get along. Of course Hanbei being a self proclaimed rotten man will prevent this from ever occurring leading to a final confrontation. Mifune is terrific as he portrays an anger in the duel. What's remarkable is that is is not an anger towards Hanbei, but rather anger towards the circumstances that force him to potentially kill a man who is in many ways like the samurai. Mifune finds a new place to take the character, even managing to shift the tone of him slightly without losing what made the role special to begin with. I won't say he bests his work in Yojimbo, but it's a strong reprise that comes close to matching that great performance.

Tuesday, 22 December 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Laurence Harvey in The Manchurian Candidate

Laurence Harvey did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Staff Sergeant Raymond Shaw in The Manchurian Candidate.

The Manchurian Candidate is an effective thriller about a two men being brainwashed by communists with being forced to commit nefarious deeds in order to control the U.S. government from within.

Laurence Harvey plays the central pawn to this plot Raymond Shaw, though Frank Sinatra's Captain Marco is also given ample time who begins to uncover the scheme due to a recurrent nightmare. Harvey's part here is a rather thankless role actually, but it is an interesting one to examine to see what exactly Harvey does within these certain limitations. The first challenge of the part is in the character of Raymond Shaw, who is suppose to be unlikable, which is very important to the plot since one of the things that tips Marco off that something is wrong is that the brainwashed army unit have all been forced to recite how great of a guy Shaw. Well Harvey certainly fulfills this need of the part as he plays much of the role in a very distant and almost viciously cold manner. He makes Raymond like a sharpened stone as he seems unwavering in his manner yet there is something most unpleasant in this determination. This is the right approach though not only to fulfill that plot point, but also Havery utilizes it to show where Raymond has come from. In his scenes with his horrible mother (Angela Lansbury) and his step father we see how Raymond would have become this way.

Harvey's very good in making such a considerable anti-chemistry of sorts in his scenes with his "parents". Harvey plays it as though Raymond is always on the attack with them as he is quite aware of how despicable they both are, and really he does not even know the half of it. Harvey makes Raymond at his most raw here as his searing anger is a constant in his interactions with them, and even when it is just his mother talking Harvey is very effective in the way that he shows that Raymond is pained by her very presence. Harvey makes this as almost a transference in his interactions with everyone else as at the very best he's a bit distant, and at the worst he still seems a bit hostile as though his upbringing has left him at a constant unease with everyone. The only relationship we see that is opposed to this is Raymond's romantic one with the daughter of one of his stepfather's staunchest opponents. This scenes are done in an almost an excessively simple way, which works as a contrast to the details of the main story, but Harvey uses them well. Harvey brings a sincere happiness in Raymond in these scenes, that almost has a certain timid quality to it as though Shaw not only is new to it, but almost does not quite know what to say when dealing with this new experience.

Now of course Raymond purpose in the film is being used as an agent for the communists to commit their plot, which is actually spearheaded by his own mother. These scenes may seem standard enough in portraying just the detached zombie who carries out orders. Harvey does handle them well by never making it seem corny but rather chilling in depicting the single minded yet blank manner of Raymond as he carries out the orders no matter how brutal they may be. Even when Raymond kills it is nothing but a straight forward act as though he is opening a door. This might seem like a minor detail but Harvey uses it brilliantly in his last scene of the film, which also the best scene of the film. As it seems Raymond is still programmed to carry out the assassination which will put his stepfather in power. Suddenly as Raymond is pulling the trigger though Harvey suddenly reveals something that had been lacking in all the other kills, an emotional fury in his eyes, as it becomes clear Raymond is of his own will as kills those who had always been using him instead. Harvey makes the final seconds of his performance surprisingly heartbreaking as he reveals Raymond finally in full control of himself though only to be in the horror that his mother has put him. There is a satisfaction that Harvey reveals at their deaths as well as relief, though also a terrible grief as Raymond is well aware of what his life has been. The moment is swift yet the power of it is palatable due to Harvey so successfully finding the cruelty behind the use of a man as simply a tool.

Sunday, 20 December 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: James Mason in Lolita

James Mason did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite being nominated for a Bafta and a Golden Globe, for portraying Professor Humbert Humbert in Lolita.

Lolita is an off beat telling of the story of a middle aged intellectual becoming infatuated with the fourteen year old girl in the home he boards in.

James Mason took on the role that he had turned down originally, apparently due to scheduling conflicts, but before his schedule allowed him to take the role it was turned down by Laurence Olivier and David Niven, Olivier based on the advice of his agents, and Niven over concerns for his TV show. This is not at all surprising considering that the role of Humbert Humbert is that of a pedophile, and that is not the only challenge within the role, though certainly a major one. Now starting at the beginning, in chronological terms that is, Mason's casting could not be more perfect as Mason, think of simply the image of an "intellectual" and Mason just seems to fit. This is surprisingly important for the performance though as Mason being such a naturally dignified presence gives Humbert almost a forced dignity. Mason tricks you almost into accepting Humbert more than you might have otherwise since Mason so effectively exudes the sort of respectability and intelligence one would expect from Humbert, a noted lecturer on French literature you know, even though what Humbert does in the film in no way supports this idea, since Humbert really is anything but respectable as we find out throughout the story.

It is hard to imagine anyone else in the role actually because Mason's whole approach, and presence enable the character in a way one would not expect one would not mind following through the film's run time. It is interesting to examine Mason's work as he does not in anyway attempt to make Humbert likable to make for his indiscretions, in fact many things work in quite the opposite fashion. For example in the early scene where he's looking at the house to stay being shown by the somewhat lusty Charlotte Haze (Shelley Winters), there is a definite air of superiority in Humbert's interactions yet Mason again is just so good at presenting this sort of type that you feel he earns it. Of course this in a way seems subverted quite quickly when Humbert makes his decision to stay in Charlotte's home because he glances at Charlotte's 14 year old daughter Lolita(Sue Lyon). Mason reveals an understated yet clearly rather considerable lust as Humbert eyes her. The stare of a creepy old man to be sure in terms of content yet Mason oddly enough manages to so carefully not go overboard, while in no way hiding the intention of his character from the audience. It's so brilliantly handled by Mason as he allows us to follow Humbert in a way, you wouldn't imagine one could.

Well as Mason in a way tricks us into allowing Humbert to be our lead, Stanley Kubrick actually continues to throws various challenges against him as the film progresses. The film's tone actually has strong vein of humor in it mostly through the character of Clare Quilty (Peter Sellers), and this presents two severe yet possible pitfalls for Mason's performance. The first being that the film very easily considering the subject matter and the style of humor combined could just become rather grotesque, the other being that Humbert as well as Mason could have been completely overshadowed by Sellers, and the madness he makes with his performance as another man interested in Lolita. Well again Mason is the rock center of the film that really makes everything come together as it does, because he always keeps such a distinct sense of honesty in his performance as Humbert. The thing is though that Mason actually even does have technically comical moments, in the darkest of ways usually mostly coming from his interactions with Winters's character. Though Mason succeeds in being rather enjoyable in showing just how technically cruel is towards is to her, as he does so successfully create the sense of false interest in the scenes with Charlotte, yet always undercuts them by never leaving Humbert's true desires in question for the audience.

Now even on point with Sellers, Mason is essential to Sellers's is performance, as it is Mason's performance that allows his take on Quilty to exist, since if the actor playing Humbert tried to actively go for laughs along with Sellers, the film very easily could have gone off the rails losing complete sight of the main point of the story. Mason loses none of the potential humor brought on by Sellers by being a terrific straight man to him. Mason's timing against Sellers is impeccable as he keeps Humbert just out of sync with him in the right fashion, since even though they share the same goal for themselves they are of adifferent mind. Mason quite adept though in funneling his moments with Sellers by keeping Humbert so perfectly out of touch, and unaware of the game that this other man is playing. Mason encourages the laughs found in the material, but never allows it to overwhelm the story, keeping Humbert's dilemma more than just a very dark joke. Mason is extremely effective in the role because he does not ever hold back in terms of actually delving into revealing that lust in Humbert, as he portrays Humbert as a man stricken by an obsession. Mason is excellent in that he does keep up the shield of Humbert, through his own presentation of the "good" professor, while never failing to subtly delve into the mind of the man, who falls into his own personal abyss.

Mason actually makes the gradual revelation of just how dark Humbert's inclination particularly effective because of the way he began as that assured and proper sort. Mason is outstanding in the way he slowly shows the loss of this facade of sorts in a way as circumstances allow him to pursue Lolita in a way he had not be allowed to before. Mason is able to realize the sheer primal nature of the urges as this rather base side of Humbert makes itself more known, as his interactions with Lolita become all the more obvious, and eventually this leads to them becoming involved beyond some questionable glances towards one another. Mason portrays this as only becoming more detrimental for Humbert as it forces out all of the worst aspects of his personality as man. Mason makes this very disconcerting because he loses that usual ease of control of one self Mason presents, instead now revealing a desperation in Humbert as he attempts to control every part of Lolita's life. Mason is so good as he presents just how ruinous the relationship is for Humbert as that confidence begins to wain, and this terrible sense of unease seems ever present in every movement he makes. Mason is incredible as he depicts the crumbling mental and physical state of Humbert. This descent is marvelously performed and is all the more remarkable because of how Mason strips away that apparent respectability originally found in Humbert. Mason shows how Humbert basically loses himself as Mason so vividly creates the terrible pain in Humbert from the stress of his paranoia, as well as how terrible of a wretch he has become as he finds that Lolita has been tricking him the whole time. In the final scenes of the film Mason is absolutely amazing as he takes Humbert to his lowest point. The first being as he brings Humbert to his most vulnerable as Humbert makes one final attempt to get Lolita back. Mason makes Humbert an emotional wreck as he basically begs her to come back to him leaving him with almost nothing left. This leads him to only thing he has left which is to seek vengeance against his rival Quilty, which is actually the first scene of the film. Mason chilling in the scene because he makes this essentially the death of Humbert as he's murdering the other man as there is such a single minded cruelty, and hate is all there is in his eyes in the end as that's all there is left to him. This is one of Mason's best performances as his portrayal of Humbert enables the film to work not only in terms of creating a captivating portrait of Humbert's story of personal decay, but also in flawlessly finding the exact right footing in terms of the character as well as the film's style that prevents the film from collapsing due to its more scandalous elements.

Saturday, 12 December 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Tatsuya Nakadai in Harakiri

Tatsuya Nakadai did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Hanshiro Tsugumo in Harakiri.

Harakiri is an excellent film about a samurai who comes to a feudal lords's home to request the right of suicide, harakiri, according to the code of Bushido, but all is not as it seems.

Tatsuya Nakadai plays a samurai, which is neither the first nor the last time, you'll see me writing this. Nakadai like his frequent onscreen opponent Toshiro Mifune, often played roles that potentially seem similair, Nakadai here plays a samurai which he would later do in Samurai Rebellion, The Sword of Doom, and in 62 as well with Sanjuro, just to name a few. Nakadai though does not deliver the same performance for any one of those films that I mentioned, nor does he do so here. We first see Nakadai in the film in what one what assume is in a terrible state, as his character Hanshiro Tsugumo requests the feudal Lord to allow him to commit the official act of suicide in his courtyard. Nakadai does not play Hanshiro as overtly depressed, in that he's not just this sad man making a request. There's something else going and Nakadai brilliantly reflects this with his performance. It does seem like a man with death on the mind, though not exactly as one might expect. As he says that he will be dying soon in his eyes one knows this to be, true as Nakadai reveals such a powerful conviction in them. Again though what it alludes to is made purposefully a mystery by the film as well as Nakadai's performance.

Nakadai is a fascinating enigma in these early scenes as Hanshiro first introduces his request to the lord. Nakadai commands each scene with a striking voice of someone who seems to be absolutely certain of his fate. It goes even more than that though as there is something in his voice that is almost otherworldly in his whole manner. The way he stares through the men, and the way he moves is though he is from some high plane of existence than the Lord. Nakadai is amazing in that he creates this peculiar state of his character in these scenes, as he speaks and acts with this certain detachment towards the world and the Lord, yet there is some emotional quality about. Nakadai is haunting as he seems to make Hanshiro almost some sort of spirit who has arrived at the gate. Hanshiro is told by the Lord another story of a samurai who made a similair request, which lead the lord's men to have the man forcefully commit suicide in an extremely painful way by making him use a bamboo knife while refusing to grant mercy. As Hanshiro is told this story though Nakadai portrays no loss in Hanshiro's reserve in the least, the conviction stands without question, and Hanshiro stays as something more than a man as he insists on the right of Harakiri.

Eventually when he takes to the courtyard to perform the rite Hanshiro requests assistance from the the men who were instrumental in the brutal treatment of that other samurai. All of the men claim to be sick, and Lord wishes for Hanshiro to proceed, but Hanshiro reveals that he was well aware of the other samurai's story even before the lord told him. We are then given a flashback to see Hanshiro some time ago as a samurai with a daughter to support, but no wars to fight so no Lord to support him, trying to make ends meat best he can. Nakadai presents a very different man in these scenes playing Hanshiro much more of an average enough guy. His voice actually far more relaxed as is his whole manner. Although his financial troubles are there Nakadai presents the man effectively as a man happy with the life he has, and just a likable man trying to make it through life with his daughter. This eventually turns to with his daughter, and her eventual husband and father to Hanshiro's grandson who just happens to be that samurai who had been forced to commit Harakiri before Hanshiro.

The hardships only continue to build up as there is no work for the unemployed samurai, and Hanshiro's grandson falls ill. Nakadai is excellent, as unlike the scenes set in the present, he takes a more straight forward approach which is fitting to Hanshiro who is just trying to live out his life in peace. Nakadai does well just only present Hanshiro as a genuine caring man and is incredibly moving in depicting Hanshiro's reactions to his growing misfortunes. Nakadai is especially affecting because that contentment and optimism of before just slowly seems to seep out of the man as things only become worse. Nakadai is heartbreaking as he shows that just everything that goes wrong so deeply wounds Hanshiro, and importantly though Nakadai presents this not as Hanshiro feeling sorry for himself, but rather a deep empathy for the three members of his family. Even with this hardship this man still does not seem to be that man telling the story, even when the body of his son-in-law is brought to his home. Nakadai portrays a man not filled with anything but a deep overwhelming sadness as well as this certain resignation as he sees the corpse mutilated. The flashbacks of that portion ends though as Hanshiro informs the Lord that soon afterwards his daughter and grandson died shortly after.

The mystery behind Hanshiro becomes shattered, but nothing is lost in terms of Nakadai's performance instead only new depths are found in what Nakadai has only shown. Nakadai does not actually alter his performance in the least at this point, nor should he as Hanshiro has been very much set on his path since he first entered the Lord's domain. What Nakadai has already shown though suddenly can be seen in a new light. Those intense eyes of his, have the wear of a sea of tears, and that voice of his changed through the cries of anguish. Though we now know he is indeed a man he might as well not be, as Nakadai portrays Hanshiro as a spirit of vengeance. This is of course not in the literal sense, but he seems as omnipresent as a ghost who can wander freely. Nakadai realizes the force within Hanshiro as being worldly, but seemingly as terrible as a power beyond the realm of man, by being a man so transfixed on one objective. Nakadai does not even depict this as though Hanshiro is merely obsessed, he's gone beyond that point, as Nakadai creates the sense in Hanshiro that this objective is all he has left, his sadness having turned into a internalized yet volcanic rage at both the men as well as the system that wronged his family. Nakadai is outstanding in his final scene as the will is within his eyes, and his voice. The sheer might of it is made true by Nakadai's performance that derives it from such fierce emotion. It such remarkable work as Nakadai because even as he so poignantly reveals the man behind the cryptic, he never loses that aura around him. Nakadai makes it so Hanshiro is more than a man, yet is still a man, it is a tremendous performance.

Monday, 7 December 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Tom Courtenay in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner

Tom Courtenay did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Colin Smith in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.

The Loneliness of Long Distance Runner is an intriguing enough kitchen sink drama about a young man being sent to a reformatory due to a robbery he committed.

I've already covered the always underrated Courtenay for his later foray in another film considered a kitchen sink drama, Billy Liar, though the leads of these films are often referred as the angry young man, that was less so the case for Billy Liar who would have been better referred to as the aimless young man, though technically speaking Colin Smith is also aimless. It's interesting to compare the two performances though as Courtenay crafts two distinct characters that differ in style as well. In the broad strokes, though it was not that simple in the least, as Billy Liar Courtenay gave most often a comic performance in his depiction of the young man who preferred fantasies over reality, though this did indeed hide a very troubled state of mind beneath it all. Here with The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner Courtenay is given much more directly that angry young man type. One of the best scene in the opening scenes of the film as he's taken to the reformatory and is given the initial speech by the superintendent (Michael Redgrave). The sheer hatred Courtenay conveys as Colin stares down the warden sets up perfectly where Colin's state of mind is at the beginning of the film though technically it is more of the middle of the story.

As we proceed in these early scenes Courtenay is extremely effective in revealing the manner of Colin which is the epitome of a rebel without a cause, but unlike say James Dean there is nothing "cool" about Courtenay's portrayal. Courtenay instead does not hold back on the harshness of the nature of this anger showing it as something that is very much off-putting as there does not seem to be an exact purpose for it at first. Courtenay rather than having his character defines his defiance, it is simply the act of defiance that defines Colin. Courtenay does not show anything promising in Colin with his work though instead revealing a very definite problem with the man, as the intensity he brings to his anger suggests not a man waiting or wanting to do something right, rather a man who soon could do something quite wrong very soon. Courtenay is terrific because he establishes this being Colin at his absolute worst point that so well reflects what we later learn about Colin, but with all those other elements, in combination with imprisonment, Courtenay reveals the combination of all these pains into a truly troubled young man. Very naturally though Courtenay does not allow Colin to be defined by this note, as times passes, as well as when we see what came before, Courtenay presents us the greater whole of Colin.

This sort of begins with Colin's time with the prison psychiatrist who tries to discover his problems. Courtenay is great because he still has that sharpness, that fervor against the man representing authority currently, though now tempered a bit as he's simply has time to cool down in addition to the psychiatrist being a empathetic man. Courtenay brilliantly begins to peal away more at Colin for us though when the psychiatrist asks about his father and Colin reveals that he died. Courtenay is exceptional in this moment as he so subtly reveals a palatable grief over his father's death while still holding up that front that Colin keeps. This eventually leads us to the flashback sequences of the film where Colin is an aimless young man living with his family including his dying father that seems to concern his concern his mother very little. Courtenay once again is absolutely fantastic in how well he gets across what is going on beneath Colin. On the surface again there is always that hint of anger, that gets stronger at certain understandable moments, and often a sense of ambivalence towards life as though he's in some way above it. Courtenay though is so good though as there is such a striking undercurrent of sadness in Colin, who is heartbroken over his father made all the worse because of his mother's indifference.

Courtenay continues to excel in the way he furthers the character in the scenes away from his family or any potential authority figures where he puts on that tough guy act of sorts. Outside of those scenes, particularly when he and his friend attempt at romancing two young women, Courtenay brings out this more genuine youth in Colin. This is indeed in moments of just simple juvenile excitement in doing some occasional acts of thefts as well as simply trying to impresses the women, but Courtenay also is quite powerful as he brings out that vulnerability, that he certainly alluded to before, into the open when he is alone with just one of the women. Courtenay is marvelous as he shows the shy confused man that Colin is deep down inside, and actually presents a certain sweetness by removing any of those barriers that Colin usually keeps firmly in place. In these brief moments Courtenay is able to create the sense of what compels Colin otherwise though by granting this sensitivity in him, but also a certain considerable fear both in terms of avoiding what his father became as well as simply to face what he must face. Courtenay makes sense of Colin's confused state so well that the fact that his robberies only become riskier ends up feeling like an inevitability, since Courtenay shows that Colin really has no idea what he is doing or what he should do.

Now the film also depicts Colin continuing life in the detention center where Courtenay slowly eases away that hatred that was so strong at first, as Colin finds that he has a knack for long distance running, which makes superintendent happy for purely selfish reasons involving a competition between the center and a school. Colin begins to fall very much into line, which Courtenay also gives sense to not only through the fact that Colin's clearly had time to calm down, but also in the moments of the running. In these moments Courtenay expresses a considerable enthusiasm and joy as Courtenay shows Colin finally doing something seemingly on his own terms that also seems to have some purpose. This eventually leads to the climatic race which Colin easily could win, but just before the finish line stops to the fury of all. The rebellious streak reappears in Colin, and this could easily have been a meaningless moment if it were not for Courtenay's portrayal of it. It is not an anger that compels Colin this time. Courtenay instead shows Colin know far more aware of his own self, and instead presents a moment of a personal pride of sorts as Colin stops in defiance not in hatred, but rather to be his own man. Tom Courtenay gives a great performance here and one of the very best Kitchen Sink performances here because he never leaves Colin Smith as just an "angry young man", he finds what there is beneath that surface,  painting a most compelling portrait of a man lost trying to find some path which he can call his own.

Monday, 30 November 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Patrick McGoohan in All Night Long

Patrick McGoohan did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Johnnie Cousin in All Night Long.

All Night Long is an interesting film which is a modernized version of Othello through the world of Jazz and set on a single night in London.

Patrick McGoohan plays Johnnie Cousin but for the purposes of the story he serves the role of Iago. Johnnie is an ambitious drummer and just like Iago he plans the downfall of his "friend" and fellow musician Aurelius Rex (Paul Harris), and Rex's wife as well as retiring Jazz singer Delia (Marti Stevens). The film gives a bit more of a motivation for Iago than Shakespeare settled on as it is obvious Cousin's plan is to make it so he gets Delia as a singer for the band he wants to start since she has decided to retire after getting married to Rex, and I'll admit I always preferred when Iago's malevolence is left a mystery with the performance being the main clue. That's not to say that Johnnie Cousin is too much a simplified version of Iago, certainly not through McGoohan's performance. McGoohan, just as he would later do in the other performance of his that I covered that being as Longshanks in Braveheart, rejects once again that very proper and dignified voice he has. Instead this time McGoohan takes upon a voice that might be best described as a bit jazzy in style, though this actually is an effective choice once again by McGoohan as his normal voice make make Johnnie's intentions a bit too obvious. The voice McGoohan gives him makes him seem more at home in the Jazz world depicted in All Night Long, even if his intentions as a man make him more fitting of the cutthroat world that Othello is usually set in.

His choice of accent also helps set up Johnnie Cousin, as old honest Johnnie for most of the people in the room that night, though it seems everyone should be trusted anyway as everyone seems pretty supportive of each other at the start, except for old Johnnie who has plans of his own. McGoohan is quite good in putting on the most obvious of Johnnie's faces, the one he shows to everyone except for his wife and for a brief moment Delia. McGoohan plays it kind of a sly snake though just slick enough that his act does not become too obvious to seem false. McGoohan brings upon this certain eagerness about Johnnie as though everything he says is only in the service of the person he's telling it to. This is pivotal in making sense of Johnnie's specific abilities in the film since his method technically would not work with a lesser performer. The method being that Johnnie basically tells the person a problem in their life in an semi indirect way, while at the same time encouraging them to do something rash in an equally indirect way. McGoohan keeps this indirectness so well through his performance as he makes it as though Johnnie always seems detached from the negativity as though he has only stumbled upon gossip that he's so genuinely concerned about, then there is this encouraging quality in his voice as though his suggestions to do wrong seem like the right thing to do.

Now this version though does give a specific reason for his manipulations unlike Iago where there are only allusions. Again this easily could have taken away something form Johnnie as a character if it were not once again for McGoohan's terrific performance. McGoohan actually cleverly does not allow for the limitation of Johnnie just wanting to get Delia as a singer, as McGoohan does not portray this as what is exactly driving him. Instead McGoohan is excellent by making Johnnie perhaps even more despicable by showing a different motivator beneath the surface, fitting for a man who is just a man of faces. McGoohan gives a more sadistic edge to Johnnie, though in quite the compelling understated way. There's just this slightest hint of pleasure in the man as he sees his poisonous words work their way into each of his victims heads, and McGoohan suggests that witnessing their suffering is what truly compels Johnnie throughout the night. One of my favorite scenes of McGoohan's performance is his drum solo, which McGoohan makes more than just a man playing an instrument. McGoohan is brilliant as he attaches the solo to basically be what he is doing in the night, playing each person as he plays the instrument. McGoohan shows Johnnie truly relishing in the moment as he takes such horrible delight in being a puppet master that only results in pain for everyone other than himself.

Although many elements from Othello are simplified and softened in the adaptation, though I did not mind softening of some elements as I found myself feeling particularly sorry for Johnnie(Iago)'s victims in this version, McGoohan does his best to avoid this with his rendition of the Iago of Jazz music. McGoohan does not make Johnnie just an ambitious man who going to trick someone into allowing his band to come to fruition. McGoohan instead creates a fascinating villain with Johnnie through just how hollow of a man he is, as though there really isn't much past the mask he puts on. After Johnnie's deceit is discovered there remains one final scene for Johnnie after everyone has rejected except for his meek wife (Betsy Blair). The scene involves Johnnie's wife still indicating her love for him, while he rejects this which very easily could have been played as though Johnnie is just bitter after having lost his own potential chance at stardom. McGoohan though takes a far more interesting approach as though in the moment Johnnie's not being just his worst self, but his only true self. McGoohan makes Johnnie a void as he states essentially a disbelief in love, as there is such a disconcering lack of humanity in his words. Yes there is a palatable hate that McGoohan conveys but he does not present it as though it comes from just having lost his chance, but rather because he won't be able to inflict any more damage to those people around him. McGoohan gives a performance which enhances the film through his portrait of Johnnie Cousin, not as a jealous wannabe grasping for fame, but rather as a husk of man whose only joy comes from the torment of others. 

Tuesday, 24 November 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962: Montgomery Clift in Freud

Montgomery Clift did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Sigmund Freud in Freud.

Freud tells the story of Sigmund Freud attempting to define his theories on the human mind, in which John Huston takes a somewhat strange approach to depict, as the proceedings have this edge of other worldly horror quality to them, although that might partially be because parts of the film's score would later be used in Alien.

Montgomery Clift gives his penultimate performance in a film here, and where his apparent damaged state often coincided with the nature of his characters after his accident, this is not exactly the case for Sigmund Freud, who is stable for the most part. Nevertheless Clift does seem right for the role, not that he wholly hides himself so to speak, but his work finds a way for these attributes to actually seem fitting to Freud's character in the film. Now Freud for the most part is a confident and healthy enough man who wishes to explore his own theories about illnesses that stem from the mind rather than the body, despite the scientific community giving little credence to these views, so the film is mainly about Freud's attempt to try to find the truth of the human mind through various test cases though the main focuses on a troubled young woman Cecily (Susannah York). Now Clift does not exactly try to reflect an exact copy of the real Freud, but his work instead tries to uncover the mind of such a man which seems rather fitting. Clift is able to position though Freud as a sort of soulful man in the way he interacts with his patients, even early on, and whenever he attempts to describe his beliefs.

Clift portrays very well this certain understated yet palatable passion in Freud to attempt to tap into whatever it is that exactly makes the mind work, as well what exactly the mind can reveal to discover past pains. Clift internalizes this incredibly well and in turn helps dial the film back a bit as Huston's direction sometimes does become a bit bombastic. Clift's performance often is reactionary and Clift never fails to make use of these reactions. Clift finds in Freud the right fascination as he brings this excitement in Freud at any given moment, particularly when it seems they might uncover something wholly new to the world in regards to the human psyche. This constant inquisitive nature of the man is very well realized by Clift's portrayal, but importantly Clift avoids making Freud become some sort of man who simply is interested in the suffering of others. Clift instead brings a powerful vein of empathy in his work as in his reactions there is not that distance of a scientist observing nature. Clift instead creates the sense of a man genuinely caring for these people's inner torments, and Clift helps amplify the intense emotions of any scene by showing Freud's own emotional exhaustion at delving into such dark places that are only found within the subconscious.

Although the film is called Freud, it rarely narrows in the man himself. There are a few scenes between him and his wife though they are only brief. To Clift's credit he is good in these scenes because he presents Freud in a less intense fashion, showing that the man is not always captured by his work. Oddly enough the more personal story almost seems to go to Freud's colleague played by Larry Parks. Freud's own psychological problem is found in the film through his troubled reaction to the death of his father. This element of the film is not deeply developed though, and even the conclusion is left on a quick silent note near the end of the film. Clift though is excellent in the brief scenes that cover this as he brings about such a haunting quality in his depiction that effectively represents Freud's own inner turmoil quite well. Even that quick final moment is actually a great moment for Clift because he does not simplify it as an easy fix, showing a bit of solace in Freud along with still a searing grief in reflecting on the relationship with his father once more. The majority of the film squarely keeps to Freud psychoanalyzing others, especially Cecily which the film uses as its dramatic climax as he seems to uncover exactly what troubles her so deeply. Clift makes this often passive act though so compelling to watch by making Freud's method never lose that personal connection in the moment, and in a way develops his technique by becoming specifically active in certain moments. This is a very strong performance by Clift as he artfully elevates the material while carefully avoiding its pitfalls. His portrait of Freud is an engaging one not through mannerisms or a form of imitation, but rather by finding the core that was the key to the emotional motivation of the man. 

Saturday, 21 November 2015

Alternate Best Actor 1962

And the Nominees Were Not:

James Mason in Lolita

Toshiro Mifune in Sanjuro


Montgomery Clift in Freud

Robert Mitchum in Cape Fear

Tom Courtenay in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner

Rank Those Five or These Five:

James Stewart in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

Tatsuya Nakadai in Harakiri

Laurence Harvey in The Manchurian Candidate

Oskar Werner in Jules and Jim

Patrick McGoohan in All Night Long 

Or both.