Alternate Best Actor 1977: John Gielgud in Providence

John Gielgud did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning NYFCC, for portraying Clive Langham in Providence. 

John Gielgud's role here is one of the strangest leading performances you might encounter in terms of the construction of it. As for the first hour and 20 minutes, of a 110 minute long film, you rarely see Gielgud, but you almost constantly hear him. Although not your standard narration of a man describing his life, rather it is something more difficult to pinpoint, although more common for Alain Renais with a certain degree of a stream of consciousness, though this isn't exactly that, though partially that, as it also appears the ideas of a writer constructing ideas, while either sleeping or not sleeping through a long night. Although this may seem a tethered Gielgud in description, it is perhaps Gielgud's most untethered as a screen performer. While Gielgud otherwise has memorable cinematic roles, the vast majority of them are within a certain regal requirement in terms of the overall range within which he is allowed to play, the role of Clive Langham allows a far greater expression than was usually granted within Gielgud's characters. All of that despite our introduction of him being only his voice as he speaks to this story he appears to be relating about his son as a cold lawyer, his daughter-in-law as an unsatisfied wife, his bastard son as the strange potential love of his daughter-in-law and his wife as his son's much older mistress.

Gielgud's voice is one of those that cuts through any moment, even when not seen, by just the regal grandness of it. The way he speaks here though is a bit different from that, occasionally as he Clive seems to overtly directly the action there is that power to it, but Gielgud underlines it with maybe just a bit of distress to make things go his "way" in his vision/dream/subconscious, I'll just say story going forward for the sake of brevity. Gielgud's performance isn't not at all narration in the typical sense, closer to commentary, if not even argument with maybe Renais himself as he goes about watching this tale unfold, even if he seems to hold the power in such a story. Gielgud's exact delivery advises meaning within the words spoken in reaction to or in trying to create the story. Occasionally this is simple, even comical by Gielgud as he consistently acts in disgust to the repeated appearance of an older gentlemen, which Gielgud immediately grants you the exasperation for a man he views as a bit of joke, though is far too familiar with and just wants out of his mind as swiftly as possible. There's more complexity with those that are his family, particularly his son, where Gielgud brings a callous viciousness about every little change in his plan, such as giving him an older mistress, and his constant criticism Gielgud denotes a certain vile plotting against the nature of him each time.

Gielgud owns the quality within Clive's voice conducting it with this bawdy insistence for his perspective of his "children" where Gielgud plays with it in this combination of a more earnest joyful playfulness and something more sinister in a combined measure. Gielgud's commentary creates this fascinating combination between a certain entertainment in his conducting combined with something a bit more off-putting in the bitterness within the cattiness. His manner with potential illicit love affairs, Gielgud brings this insistent need for the idea to be true in every word he speaks, with a fixation not built so much on lust rather a necessity for his mental well being. Gielgud only through his voice crafts a tapestry of the man's world through every word, while doing so in such a way where his voice alone is captivating. The story is occasionally interrupted with a horrible vision of an old man being dissected, hence the nature of the story not exactly being just that, which Clive seems to treat as a challenge to whoever is constructing his visions, where Gielgud's reaction every time is pitch perfect in the combination between disgust and discontent that such easy imagery of perhaps his own corpse isn't enough to disturb him, while also still suggesting that it isn't as though Clive is undisturbed. 

The man is more literally disturbed by his physical pains as he awakens in this night, and we do suddenly see Gielgud more than a few times writhing in his discomforts. The descriptions of his pain are brilliant deliveries by Gielgud each and every time, as he fashions the pain within his words, even though we also see his expression this time to match it. There is a vividness within the description, and even as Clive attempts to maintain his cleverness, Gielgud's performance creates a very real and visceral anguish. There's an essential moment however during the long night that seems to speak so much more about the truth of Clive than the story that is being related as we pause for a moment for us to see Clive talking about a seemingly innocuous story about his son, at an earlier younger time, stating that they had a dinner where the son spoke of maturing through learning moral language as a logical proposition. A seemingly odd yet incredible moment as Gielgud makes it such a powerful scene because it is the expression of Clive finally reveals so much emotional vulnerability suddenly and you see perhaps the raw nerves in the man that he hides through his dismissive tale. You see that in the moment of the real father who has dismissed his son and hates himself for it behind the veneer of callousness. Revealing the real beating heart and shame of the man. Something that becomes clear in perhaps the most telling vision where we see Clive approach his wife having committed suicide, where we see a relatively brief but essential moment of Clive finding here. Gielgud's presence is so very different in the moment in this sort of resigned sadness, as a man not devastated in the same way as this almost expectation of the results of his failures. 

The film unexpectedly shifts for the final twenty minutes into "reality" and away from the story. Where his son, bastard son and daughter-in-law all come to visit him for his 78th birthday, something earlier bemoaned in that brilliant way only Gielgud can in his pithy way. But now in the real world of Clive, all three seem so much happier, more content and altogether complete people. They aren't living in drama, they just are generally comfortable, with the only discomfort coming from Clive. Gielgud's outstanding throughout the sequence and doesn't waste his now consistent appearance, as it is in his performance that he must unlock the truth of the man. As much of what happens is just generalities of a birthday party, such as gifts from his children, which Clive accepts graciously enough between pleasantries. The truth is in the break, not by the guests, but by Clive, where Gielgud reveals the intensity of the insecurity through the subtle moments of reactions and questions. While Gielgud presents Clive being on his best behavior he allows you to read between the lines such as his overcompensating when saying his bastard son is restrained with this phony force, of such a blunt man, of someone convincing himself that his sin was less than it was. When inquiring about just how healthy his son's marriage actually seems to be, Clive asks again, with Gielgud being charming his way, but with this seething desire for some sort of flaw in the marriage to somehow satiate his need to downplay his own failures as a father and as a husband. Gielgud's performance is a fascinating example of one where it thrives even within a film that most certainly is a "director's film". Gielgud's greatness is within every moment, heard or seen he does have in creating the emotional key towards the purposefully enigmatic narrative. He helps you find the way to connect to this strange tale, by uncovering the broken heart of the man, through every expected snipe, but also a more honest moment of genuine regret. While Gielgud certainly excelled as the regal force in so many films, Providence offers the opportunity for Gielgud to uncover more within his cinematic presence, not wasting a second or even a word in creating an entertaining, captivating, dynamic but also emotional portrait of a man compensating for the failure of his life. 

Alternate Best Supporting Actor 1988: Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice

Michael Keaton did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Betelgeuse in Beetlejuice. 

Despite being called Beetlejuice, the film is in fact about a recently deceased couple the Maitlands (Alec Baldwin, Geena Davis) dealing with new living humans the Deetzs in their homes. 

Eventually the couple seeks help with the actual titular character, a "human buster" who specializes in getting rid of human infestations for ghosts. A character we only briefly see in the first act from behind seeing a new opportunity in the Maitlands as some sort of opportunity for himself. He appears more clearly as he performs a tv cowboy ad for the Maitlands selling his services like a bad used car salesman with phony energy right down to his western accent. He appears partially one more time to lure than eat fly as we get more of the craggy voice Keaton uses before he goes about devouring the protesting fly. He eventually appears past the halfway point when the Maitland's finally decide to potentially use him to scare out the new humans. 

And we have Keaton's full entrance, which has become such an iconic character for him that it is easy enough to forget he was mostly slightly off-beat lead before this performance, which is a complete transformation for him, not just for the rather extensive makeup. Keaton's performance is one all about energy as he just goes at the part of Betelgeuse full force for his technically brief screen time as the titular character, and goes all in. All in as a disgusting lout, where Keaton's whole manner is about as idiosyncratic as they come. From that voice again as a dead man, guttural to whatever comes out, though personally I think his funniest moments are when he shifts that up, and his physicality of the performance. There isn't a part of Keaton's body that he kind of just let's be, in the manner of which he stands with his gut forward, the way he saunters around as though to always be some kind of surprise, to particularly the way he cocks his neck around, with a kind of snake like demeanor even when he's not turning literally into a snake. His delivery to go along with this is rapid fire, in going from idiotic, to weirdly insightful, to accommodating, to crass, to complete perversion all in a matter of a few seconds as Keaton just plays around with the part fitting for a supernatural man whose had nothing but time to indulge himself, and seemingly make use of any mischief he can that amuses himself. Keaton's performance is just the ball of energy to what the film orbits, despite again not really being in the film all that much, but it doesn't matter because he is indeed captivating every second he's on, to the point he just infects everything with the Betelgeuse name because he is indeed so memorable. And part of this is of course just being funny by "taking the piss", for the lack of a better phrase, out of everyone and everything he sees. A favorite of mine being his rundown of his qualifications where Keaton goes to his most normal Keatonness if more refined, as he starts as a proper Juilliard actor, before quickly falling apart to every bit of viciousness of state in the black plague and just loving laughing at The Exorcist.

But even in that bit of comedy, which completely works as such, what Keaton also manages to do is create both an unpredictability in his performance and an unpredictability in the character. Although I wouldn't call it a full tone shift exactly, what Keaton is able to do is dance a bit in the darkness along with comedy to provide some sense of danger to the character even as he's more than a bit of a goofball. This is best represented when he is tasted by the Deetz's daughter Lydia (Winona Ryder) to save the Maitland's who are being exorcised, on the condition that she marries him in order for him to escape his current existence. All starting with the iconic line from the film "It's showtime", with such a perfect fiendish glee, along with his little dust off gesture before holding his arms as the ideal "I'm ready". And this is the showcase for Keaton who just is on throughout the sequence, from his fully creepy opening circus bit where he disposes of two of the guests, to the following purely hilarious voice change when noting "He won't do two shows a night", until being a different kind of creepy as he welcomes the Deetz's as his family before proceeding with the wedding. Something where again Keaton just is in this particular flow that is just so wonderfully specific in the amount of momentum he brings in every physical move, every vocal reaction to just everything, with particular highlights being his pondering his marriage before his casual yep, to his hilarious squeal when someone successfully says his name, to his callous yet sincere dismissing of his wife, whose ring...and finger he has. Keaton's great because he is the villain, he is the comic relief, he's even the hero all in the same scene. And as much as his screentime is limited, he does steal the show in with the character, which evidently he largely ad-libbed much of, and apparently even gave input into the specifics of his look. None of which is surprising given Keaton just is this role, in a way few actors are a role, where they instantly became a cinematic icon...which is no small feat.  

Alternate Best Actor 1977: Bruno Ganz in The American Friend

Bruno Ganz did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Jonathan Zimmermann in The American Friend. 

Bruno Ganz plays the "average man" who by chance runs into cinematic famous psychopath Tom Ripley (Dennis Hopper), who we meet as your average picture framer and art restorer, who unfortunately has some blood borne illness that appears to be terminal. In one of the original Breaking Bad performances, Ganz's average man is someone we meet in his way, which is already a bit more because Ganz is just a naturally interesting actor. There's just something about him that is never boring which is useful for playing a potentially "boring" part initially, because his Jonathan just seems kind of interesting even if he is definitely just average at the same time. Ganz approaches his early scenes well without any fuss, there is a quiet subtle sense of his condition in the certain underlying darkness as the man goes about his life, even if he often smiles and seems to be warm to his kid, his wife, there is the underlying sense of the man sensing his eventual death. His first action in the film is to instruct on the action of valuable artwork, and to specifically snub Hopper's Ripley, who is pawning off the work of a dead painter who is in fact alive in order to earn a greater profit. Jonathan refuses to shake Ripley's hand, which Ganz plays as very matter of fact of the man who scoffs as a man he has viewed as profit minded within this world where he clearly respects the art. Unfortunately for Jonathan this compels Ripley to finger him as a man ideal to perform assassinations, since he is dying, which he begins by spreading rumors that his illness may be worse than it is. 

Re-watching the film again shows the brilliant choice of Ganz to move from subtly to overtly shake the notion that Jonathan is a good man turned astray due to circumstances. Ganz performs this quietly in the scenes leading up to the first kill where he is asking both his personal physician, and a specialist, set up by the men who want him to perform the hit, about his condition. The scenes of the doctor have Jonathan prodding the doctor about the truth which you could take as a man needing to know the truth, or wanting to find a way out of the proposition, the specific kind of urgency Ganz portrays isn't as anxiety related to potential guilt, it's a need to support the notion of taking on the hit. Ganz presents a want for honesty, which he supports further even in the moments of being asked, where Ganz portrays surprise and disbelief however with a hint of interest that goes way beyond any kind of desperation. And while you may believe this is the innocent man turned astray, Ganz doesn't make it so simple in the story of Jonathan. Ganz is absolutely stellar in the first hit, because he doesn't portray it at all like a professional rather a man trying to be one. He labors moments of his movement, his choices are always telegraphed in the right way, because Jonathan is telegraphing themselves to himself. Ganz brings the right sense of the tension of the moment, again not so much the man facing the life or death decision but rather the fear of being caught and really even the tension of a kind of excitement as he goes about killing this man. With the key moment being after he makes his escape, Ganz's shows after the release of adrenaline a genuine exuberance of a man living as he kills. 

After the initial killings one can take it as though the man is having second thoughts as we see him wallowing in frustration, though again I don't think Ganz plays it as simply as just a basic guilt for his actions. Rather Ganz depicts more so this frustration as he attempts to sink back into his normal life, a frustration though that less reflects a sadness for losing any kind of calm, but rather being stuck away from this experience that seemingly made him live again after being stuck within that certain confined state created by the idea of his impending death. When asked for another killing, Ganz's performance again delivers the sort of semi-no's as with only enough believability of a man convincing himself that he's not a killer, but far too weak to actually not continue on as he's tasked with a more difficult killing involving several gangsters on a train. But before that, it is essential to talk about Ganz and Hopper as we see Ripley's relationship with Jonathan develop, past that opening hostility. The subsequent meetings find Ripley quietly charmed by Jonathan's devotion to his craft, even his ability to spot that something was off with the painter's new work, and beyond that initial dismissiveness, Ganz beautifully plays a quiet relent on his earlier behavior even if he explains himself. And Ganz brings such a natural sense of the quiet joy in Jonathan as Ripley speaks so highly of him, Ganz portraying not as standard ego, but rather the needed boost for a damaged ego of a man looking for someone, anyone recognizing him as more than just some dying schlub. 

Their relationship goes beyond admiration of craft as in the middle of the attempted killing on the train, Ripley joins Jonathan in his quest...and what we have is just a truly outstanding scene. The scene is just outstanding as it is thrilling, but also darkly comic at the same time. The essential ingredient to all of it however is the chemistry between Ganz and Hopper, because after the initial surprise Jonathan and Ripley become true partners. The two are wonderful in every interaction, despite being the unnatural habit of maneuvering murders in a very populated train, are so naturalistic in the way they create the tension but also share such a sense of joy in every maneuver. Both actors show that not only are the men loving it, they're specifically loving doing it together. Every moment is so much more because Ganz and Hopper accentuate every glance, every line, with such a deep sense of this very peculiar yet all too tangible camaraderie. With the finale of the scene being absolutely perfect as Ganz again brilliantly shows the true nature of this endeavor, not of desperation for money for his family as he dies, but rather a man who believes he is dying finding this outlet for living. As we see Ganz stick his head out the train car, and there is such sublime joy and exuberance of a man embracing life...even if it involves killing. Ganz and Hopper's chemistry is so fascinating because as truly bizarre as this friendship becomes, it is genuine in their way with Ganz showing the way he looks at Ripley giving him life, and Ripley in turn, oddly enough, seeing a genuine friend. 

Ganz's performance throughout the final sequence of the film conveys the strange state of the man as he goes down this dark path willingly, even when his wife finds out, Ganz's performance brilliantly underlies the truth of the situation, as Ganz doesn't present the shame of a once innocent man who has to admit to his wrongdoing, rather he reacts more so like a drug addict whose fixation has been discovered. Ganz's performance reveals the man as recognizing this as a choice to do what he has done not just for the sake of it. The whole final sequence is amazing work by Ganz as he manages to do two things, one is run with his chemistry with Hopper, where the two seem complete partners now as they play off each other, but also show the man in his dying state of mind, to the point he's quite directly losing his mind in this kind of mania. In each successive scene Ganz's reactions become that much more extreme, and even distant, the moment he starts singing the Beatles even though Ganz makes entirely natural, by funneling into granting a sense in the unnatural state of Jonathan's mind as he's dying but kind of just living out his dying breath to what he sees as the most. The role of the man Ripley manipulates to crime I think could easily be completely overshadowed, and would be in the inferior re-adaptation of Ripley's game. While Hopper's amazing and often dominates, Ganz is never lost or forgotten in their scenes together by making this choice to not turn Jonathan into some random innocent, but a man who releases his darker self on his own accord in order to embrace what he has left of his life. 

Alternate Best Actor 1977: William Devane in Rolling Thunder

William Devane did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Major Charles Rane in Rolling Thunder. 

Rolling Thunder, though only co-written by him, is another entry into the Paul Schrader "Man on a razor's edge" subgenre, this time about a returning POW from Vietnam who finds a less than warm welcome home. 

William Devane, a character actor with a very precise and particular voice, plays the returning war vet Major Charles Rane who comes home after years of imprisonment and torture over from Vietnam to a hero's welcome. Devane enters the film with a calm demeanor, a proper soldier with a stiff manner as he accepts his plaudits, without a hint of either the trauma or pride one could connect to his situation. Not a mistake or an error by Devane rather a most effective choice of presenting a man going through the motions of the return, that suffers below the surface of the pageantry as he almost immediately finds out that his wife has been cheating him, his son has been raised by this other man, and she intends to stay with this other man. All of this leaves Rane with barely a reaction, again not an error but rather a fantastic choice where Devane alludes to the entire existence of a man who has dealt with his horrible imprisonment by nearly breaking from reality. Devane's performance has an exceptionally subtle manner that alludes to just the hint of all that Rane is keeping in even as he so calmly seems to accept this horrible plight. The only minor respite is with his son where Devane plays this hint of warmth, a genuine warmth, but the only warmth that he can get out of loving his son. Even then though Devane presents this effort Rane to connect still, a connection he wants to make but still struggles to make. 

Unfortunately because Rane lives in the Schraderverse, not everyone wants to let Rane just live with his accomplishment and his gifted silver dollars as his home is raided by a group of sleazy thugs. An event that leaves both his wife and his son dead, and Rane with his hand being put in a garbage disposal. Devane's performance is again effective in the way he plays the character's trauma below the surface of the character in this pent up intensity, as he maintains his composure even as this horror is going on around him and to him. Devane presenting the man who managed to live through his torture as a prisoner, though in no way a well man, just held together by the barest vicious conviction. The horror does seem to give Rane final purpose in his life as he goes about looking for the men who committed the heinous act, with the help of a local woman Linda (Linda Haynes) who is obsessed with him. Devane suddenly plays the soldier in a way as he enters these scenes as a man of action and combat. Devane brings this precision in his violence of a man with intention and purpose suddenly. Like the warmth he released for his son that he had to find, Devane presents this alternatively, though quite effectively as a man's set gear as he goes about using his trauma for this violence that he commits with this exact intensity of a man who has a reason to live oddly enough. 

Where this seems like the film's chance to really get going, it doesn't. Partially in the romance with Linda, which is too idealized for essentially stemming from an obsessed fan, though I think both actors are fine and Devane is more than fine as he doesn't compromise the character in these scenes, they just aren't quite there on a writing level. The film also gets frequently derailed by a subplot of his deceased wife's lover also trying to help out Rane, where the character is just boring and the scenes truly feel like filler to get the film to feature length. What keeps the film afloat is Devane with his excessively official manner of speaking that works in line with crafting this character of the soldier who can't escape any element of that in the war or in civilian life. Eventually the film even gets to the point when he recruits his old squad-mate Tommy Lee Jones to, in the character's words "Kill a lot of people". Something they eventually do, and leading to the film's climax is a bizarre piece that one would perhaps attempt to ask the director what he was going for, and I would guess maybe he wouldn't even entirely know. You certainly don't feel bad about Rane and his buddy murdering these guys, since these guys are made to be the absolute lowest of the low, but at the same time, perhaps just the strength of Devane's performance, is that it doesn't feel heroic revenge either. As Jones and Devane both bring this glee to the scene and accentuate the moments of torturous shooting particularly as such with each man showing they're having the time of their life. Although this too is then subverted with the immediacy of the ending, where we get a corny 70's song to close out their rampage that is completely tonally dissonant and I can't be sure that was intentional. Regardless, what Devane does in the finale entirely works, much like his entire film in creating a captivating portrait of a man broken as a soldier and only able to find any life being a soldier even after his theoretical war has ended. 

Alternate Best Actor 1977: Bruno S. in Stroszek

Bruno S. did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Bruno Stroszek in Stroszek. 

Stroszek follows an idiosyncratic German musician who moves to America. 

Stroszek is the second of two films directed by Werner Herzog to feature Bruno S., after playing the peculiar man who had a natural musical ability who had gone through many years of a strange imprisonment in The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, this film too follows a man we see released from prison, who is a musician, although now during the modern era. In both instances of Herzog's use of Bruno S., there is a clear specificity of the choice as an alternative to Klaus Kinski, as there's a certain innocence to Bruno S. as opposed to the spawn of Satan's innate presence of Kinski. But I think in both instances this goes beyond that choice, as the fact that he plays a character nearly with his own name I would say is no coincidence. If one were to read about Bruno S.'s life, which is rather heartbreaking, where he was abused as a child, apparently tortured by Nazis, and spent time also imprisoned in mental institutions, the casting of Bruno S. in both instances has a certain autobiographical quality. Although I wouldn't say he is being cast as "himself" in both instances, as there is a progression within his character in Hauser that certainly is performed, the certain particular way Bruno S. interacts with the world, supported also by an interview I watched of him, is very much his personal thing. I won't make any diagnosis of S., but I think it is safe to say he takes in and reacts to stimuli differently from the average person. What Herzog seems to be doing, especially in this film, is merely presenting this unique man to us through the theoretical character of Stroszek. And I should note, I don't think this is a case of someone "not acting", as obviously what Stroszek is going through is not what Bruno S. is going through, these are fictional scenarios, but nonetheless what we do get is the reaction of this man that is very much his own if filtered through performance. 

And we see this man going about his life of leaving prison, to find himself in a world accosted by local thugs, while being friendly towards a local prostitute. S. doesn't react to any of this as a man with hardship, even when they are torturing him, but rather just a man kind of taking it in, in his own particular way, that is very much his way. This is one of those instances where it is hard to say what Bruno S. has, but he has *it* in that there is just something innately captivating about Bruno S., even if to say exactly why, isn't the easiest. He moves to America even and even then, Bruno S. looks at every sight his own way, every interaction his own way, later when things start not going his way for his small group, including the prostitute, there is frustration in the words he speaks, however even that is Bruno S.'s own way about himself. He never exactly states anything to anyone, it is this internalized sort of spoken way. Even as things go wrong, such as that prostitute running off with a trucker, his other companion getting arrested, his house getting taken away, being lost in America, Bruno S. presents Stroszek as just going through these landscapes, these moments as his man does, as he does, which is as he is, in this way that only he can be. I mean there truly should be nothing to a man riding an amusement park ride by himself while seeming to be lost, but just the particular expression that Bruno S. is making as he goes around and around is oddly fascinating, in just being so much himself that it is hard not to look at what he is doing. The sequences that are contrasting the rest of his work are when he plays music, and if one thing I wholeheartedly wish was there had been more scenes of Stroszek playing music and singing. One segment in particular where he takes the street to perform, simply seeming to do so, Bruno S. is absolutely captivating and suddenly he communicates in such a universal way it is kind of beautiful. This is not your traditional performance, or film, yet just like the film, Bruno S. delivers performance here that does captivate, even if the *how* may remain a bit enigmatic. 

Alternate Best Actor 1977: Fernando Rey in Elisa, Vida Mía

Fernando Rey did not receive an Oscar nomination, despite winning Cannes, for portraying Luis in Elisa, Vida Mía.

Elisa, Vida Mía explores a woman Elisa (Geraldine Chaplin), examining her life while staying with her father on a secluded farmhouse.

Fernando Rey also received some critical mentions for his work in Buñuel's That Obscure Object of Desire, in a dubbed performance as a rich older man lusting after an enigmatic if not impish younger woman. Where, though dubbed, Rey's physical work certainly was effective there in terms of portraying the growing frustrations in the man, mixed in with the immediate sexual fascinations that keep him going back. Rey, in his own voice, also is featured here in a film that is in part about the relationship between an older man and younger woman, though this time father and daughter, though in both instances his co-stars get the showier roles. Rey's role here is very subdued here, and only sometimes the focus as we find him just being the genial father figure who his extended family has come to visit. He brings a quiet warmth about him in just his modest interactions but doesn't put much on it other than just a man happy to see his family. So much that he's more than eager to invite his daughter to stay with him so they can connect more. And if that seems the setup for a two hander where the two reconnect after so many years, you'd be incorrect because the focal point is much more Chaplin as Elisa than it is Rey as Luis. 

Rey comes in and out of the film, much as the film itself comes and in and out of its perspectives that at times seems straightforward enough about Elisa just thinking about her life, however there are common swerves both into flashbacks and into fantasies involving the people she knows. Rey is interspersed into various moments, such as telling Elisa about a man he thinks might be a murderer visiting a grave, that he does little about, or telling her about his writing that he doesn't like to be pretensions about. Which Rey's own performance is pretty gentle, and his delivery is just of this sharing calm of a man just wanting to share a bit with his daughter without much more than that. At times she shares with him, her thoughts, her struggles, and with any Rey brings an earnest empathy in any given scene. One that creates the right sense of the father, but also the father who has not always been there recently so he's catching up as a well as being there now. We get a few other bits, such as Luis bringing Elisa to his school, which we get the same general consistent demeanor as he "shows off" his daughter with a natural affability. Rey is wholly consistent, however I wouldn't say he's not exactly overshadowed by Chaplin, because he is. And mostly he's a welcome enough presence but not much more than that. We occasional get an alternative moment, such as when his health begins to fail, which Rey carries the right sort of physical hesitations and exhaustion however it's not a focal point. We even get a completely random incest scene, well Chaplin also plays her own mother, so maybe it's not supposed to be that, either way. Rey delivers a fine performance here, you certainly sense the history between the two, the limited growth, the understanding, the care, but also the separation. It is largely of reactions, however Rey effectively brings this internal within his own work, even if this is very much Chaplin's film. 

Alternate Best Actor 1977

And the Nominees Were Not:

William Devane in Rolling Thunder

 

Rutger Hauer in Soldier Of Orange

 

Fernando Rey in Elisa, Vida Mía

 

Bruno S. in Stroszek 

 

Boris Plotnikov in The Ascent