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India won, India won on Pakistan, India Won the Match against Pakistan by 29 runs, India won by 29 runs, India won in semi final, india won icc world

India won the Semifinal World cup match 2011 against Pakistan by 29 runs.
Harbhajan Singh tightened the Indian stranglehold on Pakistan by having Shahid Afridi caught by Virender Sehwag in the covers off a full toss in their World Cup semifinal clash at the PCA stadium in Mohali on Wednesday

Olympic Visions Realized: Bud Greenspan 1926-2010

Olympic Visions Realized: Bud Greenspan 1926-2010

Usually when a critically acclaimed film director dies, the blogosphere is filled with tributes to that individual. But there's been precious little written about the recent passing of Bud Greenspan who passed away on December 25, so I'd like to remedy that, especially as I believe he was a supremely gifted storyteller who left us with several outstanding sports documentaries, the most famous of which were about the Olympics.

There were a few famous Olympic documentaries (most notably Leni Riefenstahl's Olympia in 1936) before Greenspan initially tackled the subject in 1964 with Jesse Owens Returns to Berlin. This moving work was honored as one of the most human stories in sports ever told on film and instantly linked him with the Olympics. Several films about the games followed over the years - he became the official Olympic documentarian - the most famous of which were  The Olympiad (1976), a 22-hour series on the history of the Olympics and 16 Days of Glory about the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. That title became synonymous with Greenspan who would go on to craft several more films with the 16 Days of Glory name, including looks at the 1988 Winter and Summer Games (held in Calgary and Seoul), the 1992 Summer games of Barcelona and the 1994 Winter games in Lillehammer. He continued making Olympic films until the Torino Winter games of 2006.

I've seen excerpts from several of his films and am catching up on more this week as Universal Sports of NBC is broadcasting a number of his works from January 1-9, cleverly titled 9 Nights of Glory. The first thing you notice in these films is the photography, as Greenspan amassed an army of cameramen to cover each event. Given the massive amount of film he could work with in the editing room, there were a myriad of camera angles to go with and as you can imagine, the finished product offered us some pretty remarkable views of the competitions. There were the telephoto shots at the end of the 100-meter dash or 110-meter hurdles that compressed the race into a frenzied mass of bodies (admittedly done before), but there were also lovely shots one didn't often see, such as an isolated shot of relay runners waving their hands in an effort to urge on their teammates or a tight focus on a balance beam just before a gymnast made a move.

But while the visuals were bringing you in, it was Greenspan's feel for the hidden stories of the athletes that made his films so compelling. In the Los Angeles 16 Days film, the director captured the most famous participants and their gold medal pursuits (such as the performances of Edwin Moses, Carl Lewis, Mary Lou Retton and Sebastian Coe), but his most deeply felt sections of the film dealt with lesser-known athletes who persisted, yet often failed in their attempt at Olympic glory.

The initial story in the Los Angeles film (after an introductory montage of the opening ceremonies) was classic Greenspan. It dealt with Dave Moorcroft, a British long-distance runner who had set the world record in the 5000 meters just two years earlier. He was expected to be the favorite for the race in 1984, but over the previous two years, he was beset with injuries that affected his performance. The most serious of these was a pelvic disorder that made it severely painful for him to even run.

This condition would come and go and as things turned out, he suffered through it the day of the gold medal race. Greenspan isolates the race of Moorcroft as we watch him drop back farther and farther as the race proceeds; all the while we hear sound clips of the runner and his wife commenting on the fact that they knew he could only make his way around the track instead of competing for gold. Moorcroft was determined to finish the race without being lapped by the leaders near the race's end and this race within a race as filmed by Greenspan is as mesmerizing as the one run by the medal winners.

It's this Olympic spirit of competition and never giving up that Greenspan captured so well in his films. In the Los Angeles film, he also gives us the enthralling story of Japanese judo wrestler Yashuhiro Yamashita, who was expected to win a gold medal quite easily, given his four year undefeated streak coming into the games. But in his second match, the wrestler injured his right leg and he admitted that he might actually lose. Greenspan trains his cameras on Yamashita leaving the ring as he hobbles along for everyone to see; sure enough, his opponents in the next two matches attack his injured leg and it's through sheer persistence - and the dream of a gold medal - that allows him to continue wrestling. It's a touching story and one with a wonderful message.

There was also a brief segment on a rowing competition that is among the most creative sequences I've ever seen in a sports film. Greenspan decided to film this without the benefit of any narration or even identifying shots of what particular race this was; the only sound in this segment is a hauntingly beautiful theme of Lee Holdridge, who composed the stirring score for this work. Who wins the race - indeed even who is competing in the race - is not as important as the race itself, is what Greenspan is saying in this sequence. Indeed, we focus on the little things that makes up this race, from the rowers carrying their boat to the water to the tight images of the athletes moving their oars in perfect harmony. Among the final shots are the reactions of the winners as well as the losers; it is the latter athletes that react in a stronger fashion as having spent every ounce of energy in their efforts to medal, they hang their heads or scowl in disgust over their failure - in this way, they are seen in a lonely, very human light. This is a thing of beauty and after seeing this brief segment, you may never think of the sport of rowing in the same way.

To me what made Greenspan such a wonderful filmmaker was that he realized that sport is as dramatic and as unpredictable an experience as anything in this world. Put these sporting competitions on a stage as big as the Olympics and that drama is increased tenfold. The narratives are there and it was to Greenspan's credit that he found so many little stories - as captivating as the more famous ones as shown by the television coverage at the time - to concentrate on in his work. Few of us, no matter the endeavor, can emerge as the best, so perhaps it was proper that Greenspan focused his cameras on the individuals that fought an uphill battle that while often unsuccessful (at least in terms of winning a medal), displayed the human spirit at its finest.

We should be thankful that Bud Greenspan shared his visions with us over the course of almost 50 years. I, for one, can't wait to watch more of his Olympic documentaries over the next several days.

The Best "Best Pictures"

The Best "Best Pictures"

Awards season in Hollywood has gotten underway; the Golden Globes ceremony following the announcements of several critics' associations on the best pictures and performances of the year. Soon it will be time for the Academy Award nominations to be revealed (January 25) followed by the Oscar awards themselves on February 27.

This means that the blogosphere will soon be alive with all sorts of posts about the Academy Awards with subjects ranging from the new nominations and who will win to famous omissions from previous years. No doubt the tone of many of these will be highly critical of the Academy for their selections.

To be sure, I've been puzzled at some of the results over the years - who hasn't? - but for today, I'd like to focus on the positives. Sometimes the Academy gets it right, so over the next few weeks, I'd like to point out some of the best awards in my mind. I'll cover categories from acting to music to editing; for this post, I'd like to name my choices at the best 5 selections of Best Picture over the course of the Academy's history (the first Oscars were awarded for 1927/1928 film seasons.) To only select five is a bit of a daunting task, so I'll list them in chronological order.

Casablanca (1943)
Is there a more beloved movie ever to emerge from Hollywood? Everyone knows the story of Rick (Humphrey Bogart at his most suave) and Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman at her most beautiful) and how their lives and loves become intertwined again in Casablanca during the Second World War.

This is classic Hollywood filmmaking at is best, from Arthur Edeson's vibrant black and white photography to the superb art direction and set decoration of  Carl Jules Weyl and Georges James Hopkins - who could forget the look of Rick's Café Americain?

Of course, the screenplay by Howard Koch and the Epstein brothers, Julius and Philip, is a certified classic, combining intrigue, romance and illicit deals; the characters they created were among the most living, breathing, complex you've ever seen on the screen. And that's not just the two main stars, but also lesser roles such as Capt. Renault (Claude Rains) an of course Sam, the piano player (Dooley Wilson) - who could ever forget those two characters? Michael Curtiz contributed the most elegant direction of his career, but in reality, this is a film that lives in our memory thanks to the contribution of dozens of extremely talented craftsmen - clearly this was supreme evidence of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts.


The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)
This drama about soldiers returning to the uncertainties of home life shortly after the end of World War ll certainly touched a nerve at the time of its release, but the fact is that this marvelous film has not lost any of its emotional appeal some 65 years later. William Wyler's subtle direction and an excellent ensemble (especially Frederic March, Dana Andrews, Teresa Wright and of course, Harold Russell) were among the highlights of this film along with Gregg Toland's famously celebrated deep focus photography. The  scene where Andrews climbs back into the cockpit of a plane in a junkyard is only one of several heartbreaking moments in this film. As beautiful a tribute to the American soldier as has ever been made in Hollywood.

Teresa Wright and Dana Andrews in The Best Years of our Lives 

On the Waterfront (1954)
A great film from director Elia Kazan and screenwriter Budd Schulberg about life in the longshoreman's union in the mid-1950s, from the dull, everyday routine of the work to the criminal activities of the union that decides who will work each day. This is one of the finest on location shoots ever and Kazan has commented often about the brutally cold days during the film's shooting. The sparse, moody black and white cinematography of Boris Kaufman (he won the Oscar for his work on this film), adds greatly to the realism of the drama's setting. The acting - especially from Marlon Brando - but also from Eva Marie Saint, Karl Malden and Rod Steiger, is miraculous.

Of course, everyone remembers the climax with Brando getting up from a bloody battle with the union honchos as well as the scene in the taxicab ("I coulda been a contender"), but for me, several of the quieter scenes in the picture are even more memorable, such as the one in which Brando tells Saint that he was indirectly responsible for her brother's death. This is filmed near the water's edge and we can only hear a few introductory words, as the whistle of a tugboat drowns out most of Brando's dialogue. It's a superb scene from an outstanding film. 

The Godfather/ The Godfather ll (1972/1974)

Each of these films won the Best Picture Oscar, so I am combining them. Francis Ford Coppola gave us an epic, the likes of which we had truly never seen on the screen, be its graphic (but necessary) violence or its internal look at crime family politics. The stunning images in these works - the horse's head in the bed and the brutal murders at a tollbooth - are only two of the most memorable in screen history.

This was another brilliant combination of multiple talents, especially those of Production Manager Dean Tavoularis and sound designer Walter Murch. Marlon Brando left us with one of the screen's most imitated roles as Vito Corleone and what a wonderful ensemble of Al Pacino, James Caan and Robert Duvall, as well as Robert DeNiro as the young Don in the second part of this film (actually predating the first film, in terms of chronological order). Almost 40 years on, the two films are riveting entertainment and epic filmmaking at its best, as the small details of everyday lives are never overshadowed by the vastness of the subject matter. 

Unforgiven (1992)

Clint Eastwood had been winning over the critical mass for almost a decade with his meticulously crafted Westerns, but it was with this film that Hollywood finally admitted that he was a truly gifted filmmaker. This study of how a former killer has to return to his former ways is a moralistic Western that never preaches, but instead challenges us to examine the demons in our own lives - how would we react in a similar situation?

This was a tribute to classic Westerns of the past and at the same time, a remarkably fresh examination of the genre's myth. Beautiful photography by Jack Green and first-rate editing by Joel Cox (an Oscar winner) added to the film's excellence, but at the heart, it was the combination of a brilliant script by David Peoples and Eastwood's masterful storytelling (he won his first Best Director award for this film) that set this film apart.  

Coppola on Writing

Coppola on Writing

Francis Ford Coppola (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

I recently transcribed an inteview I conducted with Francis Ford Coppola about ten years ago at a lunch in Chicago. The main purpose of the lunch was to introduce some of the newest releases of his wines from his estate in Napa Valley; I did talk with him about his wine business, but of course, wanted to know more about his work as a director and writer.

Most interviews from a decade ago tend to be dated, but much of what Coppola has to say here about writing for film is timeless. Thus I thought I would share sections of this interview in this post. I hope you enjoy the discussion - just remember to keep in mind this interview is from 2001.

Tom Hyland: So you’re slowing down with filmmaking lately?

Francis Ford Coppola: No, I’m making a very major transition. I’ll tell you a quick story and you’ll probably understand what I mean. When I was a kid, I was sort of the Boy Wonder of the theater department at Hofstra when I was an undergraduate.

I ran it beyond the faculty in a way. I had all the keys. I directed all the shows. Did you see Rushmore, the movie with Bill Murray? I was like that kid, but as a result the faculty always had a hard time with me. Basically I discovered that the shows were financed by student activity funds, and therefore the clubs could control whether or not the faculty got to direct them. I wanted to direct, so that’s what I did.

I found that I was in this fabulous position, but I was flunking my Shakespeare class. I was directing one Shakespeare, but the test was on the one I hadn’t read! I remember writing a paper on some Shaw play that I really hadn’t read… remember those days when you wrote a paper on something and you just sort of wrote it all around and you’d embellish it?

It came down to it that I realized if I didn’t do something drastic, I wasn’t going to graduate. So I switched and became an English major to get out of the grasp of the drama faculty, because I was such a counter force to them.

In an ironic way, I went into the wine business the same way I went into English, because the studios can’t touch me. We’re a big company, we could finance a movie. So what I’ve done is I’ve stepped out of there… they control everything, the five companies.

I’ve sort of eluded the control of the studios because they have nothing to do with the food and wine industry. They control everything else. If they want, you can get the distribution, you can get a good vision; they can make all kinds of trouble for you. In an ironic sense, I’ve sidestepped them. Although I didn’t do it deliberately, I began to see the parallel of college. And beyond that, when I say I’m trying to make a transition, is that always throughout my career, I really wanted to write original material for film. That’s why I like The Conversation better than my other films, because they’re adaptations of books.

I’m sort of getting myself back in the ability to sit down and write. Really I have been writing a major film, as though it were a novel with the same time and care that one would write a novel. In the movie business, very rarely someone comes out… it’s not like a new film like Ibsen wrote a new play or even, if I may say, Shakespeare was going to write a play or someone was going to write a book, it’s always an adaptation of something else.

That’s because the whole system works in a way that discourages that. Number one, you don’t get the time. To write a novel, sometimes people spend ten, twelve… well, how long did it take to write War and Peace?

After this tour, after June, I’m just going to be a writer. I’m not going to talk to anybody. If you want me to do what you want me to do through the year, I’ll do it in one week. I’ve done this only once before in 1994, but I wanted to clear the board so I could… you know, I know guys who are novelists, it’s amazing. You call up them up and the wife says, ‘Oh John is working. Even we can’t talk to them.’ But when I’m working, ‘oh yea, there he is, go over there and do that.’ Wait a second, doesn’t anyone respect what I’m doing?

Every writer I know will develop a daily pattern and they’ll know that when they go to the garage or wherever they go, they’re not going to be talked to or they’re not going to answer your calls.

TH: What about writing for the screen? You’re talking about writing a novel.

FFC: Well that’s an interesting thing because I have thought over many years that I would like to write a novel or write a play. But I really came to the conclusion that the cinema is an exciting format and one in which people have only touched 10% of what it can do. Certainly the way the system is now where companies control it, you don’t even get the chance to ever venture out of that because you can’t get a movie financed today.

TH: How did you get the idea for The Conversation?

FFC: It was a conversation I had actually that had to do with how the technology was changing their dilemma. I was talking with a friend of mine that there was this long microphone and you would have a sight and you could hear what someone was saying. And I thought, wouldn’t it be interesting if you had a story about this couple having this conversation and every once in a while you wouldn’t hear because someone walked in front of them and the conversation was totally ordinary. But then you realized that someone went to great lengths to record it and you started think, ‘My god, I wonder what is really going on.’

So it was a little film, a personal film and I  only got to make it because I said I’d make a second Godfather.

TH: With Tucker, I loved the scene where Preston Tucker is making a slide presentation to auto executives and talking about safety in car crashes. He has photos of people going through the windshields and at the same time, he is serving these exectutives rare roast beef for their lunch.

FFC:  That’s a true story, that really happened.

Do any of you work for the Chicago Tribune?

TH: I write for the Tribune.

FFC: The reason I mention it is because Col. McCormack (former publisher of the Tribune) got into a Tucker with his cowboy hat and it sqiushed the hat on his head and from that moment, the Tucker was dead!

The Artistry of Roger Deakins

The Artistry of Roger Deakins

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

Roger Deakins, Director of Photography

In my recent post on the Coen brothers' True Grit, I asked the question "Is there a more accomplished cinematographer working today?"I then went on to note the low light photography Deakins employed for this story and his desaturation of color in the outdoor scenes that perfectly suits the film's mood.

I also predicted Deakins would receive an Academy Award nomination for his work on True Grit; while hardly a bold estimate on my part, this has happened, making this his ninth Oscar nomination. He also received a nomination for his work on this film from the American Society of Cinematographers; he is one of five up for the society's Outstanding Achievement Award for the past year's films. He has won this award twice in the past for The Shawshank Redemption (1994) and The Man Who Wasn't There(2001). In February, he will be honored by the ASC with their lifetime achievement award.

Think about the films on which Deakins has been employed as Director of Photography and you can't help but recall the amazing visuals. A short list includes several remarkable movies from the Coens, including No Country for Old Men (2007) and 2000's O Brother, Where Art Thou? (he has been the regular cinematographer for the Coens since 1991's Barton Fink) as well as work for other directors including The Shawshank Redemption(1994 for Frank Darabont); Kundun (1997 for Martin Scorsese); A Beautiful Mind (2001 for Ron Howard) and Revolutionary Road(2008 for Sam Mendes).

No Country For Old Men

I've always been interested in cinematography and how these craftsmen work; I am a still photographer and have always been fascinated by visuals. I thought about attending film school at a prestigious university when I was young, but nothing ever came of it. So my expertise on cinematography is somewhat limited, as I have to rely on how the visual look of a film affects the way I react to it. As you would imagine, that reaction is quite strong; only music can match those emotions for me in movies.

Take a look at the image at the beginning of this post, for example. Could this image of Jesse James (Brad Pitt) be more iconic? We know of the near mythical accounts of James' life and instantly, we are given that identity in this one shot. Look at how James in his dark outfit stands tall against the muted browns and greens with an ominous, cloud-filled sky overhead (desaturation is a common visual in Deakins' works - it is on display throughout True Grit). It is as though this man is one against nature, a man who literally rises above nature, giving him a timeless quality, one that defined this man's actions against society. Clearly this image takes what we know about Jesse James and then surpasses those sensations.

Lest you think I am giving Deakins more credit than he deserves when I discuss this particular (or other images in his portfolio) as compared to the film's director, consider this excerpt from an article in the  January, 2011 issue of American Cinematographer magazine:

He (Deakins) has repeatedly stated that composition is the most critical part of the cinematographer’s job. “It’s much more important than lighting,” he toldAC. “The balance of the frame — the way an actor is relating to the space in the frame — is the most important factor in helping the audience feel what the character is thinking.”


This article is an excellent overview of Deakins' experiences as well as how he goes about his craft. I recommend it wholeheartedly; it can be found at this link.

Low light photography is a feature of much of Deakins' work; this is of course, in keeping with the themes explored by the Coens in films such as Barton Fink or True Grit or by Andrew Dominik inThe Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007). The above photo, from this last film, is part of a brilliantly lit and photographed train robbery sequence that is among the finest moments of Deakins' resumé. You don't have to know exactly how he did it (he used a number of techniques to make the train and surrounding landscape appear brighter than they were during the actual shoot), but it is a mesmerizing visual moment that heightens the drama. While Deakins may have a few tricks up his sleeve (like any accomplished cinematographer), he uses them to aide the look and feel of the film and not to draw attention to his own talent.

Not every film Deakins has worked on has featured low light photography. Look at the above image from Revolutionary Road and note how he has used natural light in this shot (even going so far as to show two unlit overhead kitchen fixtures). Here the bright, sunny hues of this scene serve as an ironic counterpoint to the ever increasing marital problems of the main couple. It's a completely natural look and it's what director Sam Mendes wanted and what Deakins delivered.

For several years now, Deakins has authored his own blog, answering questions (often very technically oriented) about what sort of lens or light he used to achieve an image. Sometimes the answers are less technical, leaning toward his philosophy of lighting and framing a scene. Here is one of my favorite quotes from Deakins, in reply to a budding cinematographer asking him for advice:

"Study light and color - every painting, photograph, and film scene that makes you feel "I want to do that" - figure out how you might replicate it - not just light, but overall tone, saturation, color, and even composition. Look for the meaning or metaphor, look for the "story" in every scene - learn to think like an artist AND a technician."


The Roger Deakins forum can be found at this link. It's a fascinating site, especially for anyone interested in cinematography and Deakins is happy to share some of his secrets (he reveals, for instance, that the memorable scene of Rooster Cogburn giving Mattie a horseback ride under a star-lit sky in True Grit was so difficult to film that it had to be filmed both outdoors as well as on an indoor stage, using a green screen for certain closeups.)

Roger Deakins

Deakins' work has truly been among the very best in films over the past 25 years; I've written about a few of my favorites in this post, but there are many more I simply don't have room to mention, such as the marvelous tonal range of The Shawshank Redemption (various hues of blue, gray and brown) and the stunning black and white photography of The Man Who Wasn't There, which in reality was shot on color film and then printed on black and white stock.

Congratulations, Roger on your Lifetime Achievement Award from the American Society of Cinematographers - well deserved! Now wouldn't it be something if the Academy Awards finally recognized him with an Oscar for his sublime work this past year on True Grit?

A Pre "Speech" Success

A Pre "Speech" Success

This time of year when movie awards are a big part of the discussion on film, there's always the tradition of looking back on the work of certain individuals that are up for Oscars and/or other acclaim. It's certainly true with Tom Hooper, director of The King's Speech. Hooper just took top honors at the Directors Guild of America awards and suddenly everyone knows his name - you understand, he's the latest overnight sensation.

I took a look at his resumé and discovered he directed a little film called The Damned United last year; this a BBC production, so it was produced on a moderate budget. I decided to watch the film, given its highly favorable reviews and see what themes Hooper carried over into The King's Speech.

The Damned United is set in the world of English soccer - make that football, lads - and it's about the story of Brian Clough, one of the most successful and controversial team managers over the past 40 years. The film documents the triumphs and failures of Clough on and off the pitch and it's a nicely crafted look at the obsession of one man who will only do things his way.

The story revolves around Clough as manager of a second division team from Derby and how he takes them from the bottom of the standings to the top; as they win the division, they are promoted to the first division where they will battle the finest teams in the country. The club everyone wants to beat at this time (the mid 1970s) is Leeds and we watch Clough prepare his team for their matches with that foe.

The story is told not chronologically, but jumps from one stage in Clough's career to the next. The film opens in 1974 when Don Revie, the manager of Leeds leaves to take that position with the national team, which failed that year to qualify for the World Cup. As Leeds had won the FA cup, he was the first choice to take over the national squad. With his departure, Leeds needed a new manager and Clough, fresh off a 1973 championship with Derby, seemed to be the natural successor.

But Clough who is a proud, stubborn man, gets things off on the wrong foot by insulting Revie at an opening press conference. He claims that Leeds was a dirty team, that Revie had fostered that type of play from his squad and that their championships were, in effect, tainted. Clough tells his players to forget Revie and to listen only to him from that moment on.

But Leeds gets off to a slow start under Clough in 1974 and soon the players and management are at odds with Clough. How things are resolved is one of the main plot lines in the film.

Another is the wonderful relationship Clough has with his assistant at Derby, Peter Taylor. As self-consumed as Clough is, Taylor is self-effacing and easy going. Their contrasts in personality make for a great partnership and it is also at the foundation of their behavior when they are split up after the are fired from Derby (I won't go into the details of the rest of the narrative, but suffice it to say there are a few surprises.)

It's the personal struggle of Clough that lifts this film above the ordinary sports film. Hooper includes film clips of a few of the matches and they're neat to watch, but it's his in-the-face look at Clough's obsessive drive that hammers home the message here. This is not just win at all costs; rather it's win and do it my way. Clough could never stand Revie, so when he takes over Leeds, he has to change everything about their ways.

As Clough, Michael Sheen is marvelous, delivering a charismatic, quite natural performance. There's never a false moment and there's no emoting, even when he's rallying the troops. He keeps his head high, even at the darkest moments and he's never at a loss for words when insulting others (which happens often in this film). Clough is a remarkable man, one who never doubts he is in the right and Sheen plays him with the proper amount of bravado as well as a touch of subtlety.

Thus The Damned United served as a nice warmup for Tom Hooper and his work on The King's Speech . Both films deal with an historical British figure: Clough in United and King George VI inSpeech and both are obsessed with overcoming a major hurdle in his life. Both also deal with the unusual friendships each man enjoyed: Clough with his assistant Taylor and the King with his speech therapist, Lionel Logue. Both man have their angry moments with their best friend, but each values their work and in the end, realizes how their success depends on that other ally in life.

Take a look at The Damned United when you get a chance. British football may be the subject, but the personal emotions are universal.

Not Your Ordinary Oscar Picks

Not Your Ordinary Oscar Picks

Oscar statuette in bronze. This is an early form of the statue before it is dipped in gold.

(Photo ©Tom Hyland)

The Academy Awards are this Sunday, so time for a few of my fearless picks. Actually over the past few years, it's become a little easier, especially for the major awards (Acting, Director, Best Picture) thanks to the slew of award ceremonies held before the Oscars. In fact, it's become a little boring in recent years, as we have witnessed the same person who won the Golden Globe and then the Screen Actor's Guild award claim the Oscar, so there's been almost no drama over recent times (the same has been holding true for the writing awards as well). There's nothing wrong with this, except to say that it's not as fun to watch the ceremonies when you know who's going to win.


Is there anyone out there who thinks anyone BUT Colin Firth will win Best Actor for his performance in The King's Speech? He deserves it of course, as he did a brilliant job putting life and breath into a famous historical character. It's just that the moment he wins will be a bit anticlimactic, as he's already won several awards for this performance. The only drama will be listening to his acceptance speech, so let's hope that Firth has an eloquent moment that's worthy of the film and this honor.


I am rooting for Geoffrey Rush for his supporting performance in the same film as I think he was absolutely brilliant in his portrayal of Lionel Logue, the king's speech therapist. I've never been that impressed by Rush's previous work; while good, I never thought he showed that much range. But in this film, he is a revelation and brings a nice touch of humanity and dry humor to this character and is a perfect foil as a simple man working with a royal subject; as with all great performances, I can't imagine anyone else in this role. I'm rooting for him, but all indications point to Christian Bale walking away with this award for his work in The Fighter.


So on with the Oscar picks and in keeping with my tradition, I'm only going to discuss a few categories, starting with:


BEST SONG
So let me get this straight, the music branch of the Academy chooses only four nominations for this award and not five? And THESE are the four they came up with? Let me discuss these one by one:


"I See the Light" from Tangled
This is a forgettable, slightly sappy tune co-written by Alan Menken. While I don't go around humming his work every day (in fact, I can't recall the last time I hummed any of his work), the man did co-write some very good movie tunes, such as "A Whole New World" from Aladdin and "Colors of the Wind" from Pocohantas. This new song though is not in the same league as those award winners.


"We Belong Together" from Toy Story 3
After the wonderful songs Randy Newman wrote for the first twoToy Story movies, it's clear that his batteries weren't fully charged when he wrote this song. It's pleasant enough, like even the most minor songs from Newman, but this just isn't his best work. Only in a year like this could this song be nominated.


"If I Rise" from 127 Hours
This is just an awful song with a dreadful three-note bass line that drives me up the wall. I'd be shocked if this actually won.


"Coming Home" from Country Strong
This is a pretty good country song - not as good as the best songs that are up for awards at the Country Music Association event - but one that is a standout in this group.

By the way, given that only four songs were nominated this year, I have a choice for the fifth nominee. That would be "Home" fromWall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps, written by David Byrne and Brian Eno. It's got a haunting melody and I love the lyrics, which question the security of home for all of us:


Home - such a funny feeling
Home - no one ever speaking


This is, without question, the best song I heard in a movie in 2010 and in opening the picture, it sets the table for the message that the film delivers. If it were up to me, this would have won the Oscar for Best Song this year.


But it wasn't nominated, so I'm going with "Coming Home", as it's easily the best of the nominated songs. But will enough voters have heard this song?

An Embarrassing Movie Show

An Embarrassing Movie Show

I'm sure that most people reading the headline above would assume I'm going to write about the recent Oscar telecast, but that's not the case. Yes, the Academy Awards show was pretty sorry this year, but let's face it, how often have you watched a good Oscar telecast? So there's no need beating a dead horse.

No, the show I'm referring to in this post is Ebert Presents at the Movies. When I read that Pulitzer-prize winning film critic Roger Ebert was going to produce a new movie review show, I was excited to see what he would do. Given his condition (he lost part of his jaw due to thyroid cancer), it was clear that he would be naming new hosts for the show, while his input would largely be that of a producer, along with his wife Chaz.

Well, the show has been on for a little over a month now and sad to say, it's a disaster. I had seen a few clips of the new hosts - Christy Lemire and Ignatiy Vishnevetsky - reviewing a few films and my first thoughts were same old, same old. Of course, you can't base your opinion on a few clips, but I thought this show might be a little more edgy or interesting.

Well, I decided to watch the show last Friday and let's just say that I survived it. That's the best I can say, because I have a lot of negative things to say and it saddens me to write that. Roger Ebert has been a superb film critic for more than 40 years - how many film critics are household names? - and he certainly has shown a lot of courage and determination in his physical battles over the past few years. Yet, truth is that this show is really bad.

I don't necessarily have a problem with the hosts per se; Lemire has been film critic for the Associated Press since 1999, is quite knowledgable and seems relaxed before the camera. Same for Vishnevetsky of the online film website Mubi who brings some nice energy to his delivery. As with any young film critic (he is 24), one wonders what he brings to the table with older, more classic films (especially as he was born in Russia), but he is certainly well spoken on recent film trends.

The problem is that these two hosts are just a little bit boring; worse, they have no chemistry together. We've seen critics discussing films before and it's almost always the same. Here the two sit on a set made to look like a movie theater, complete with red crushed velvet seats, and we even get the tired over-the-shoulder shot of the two of them watching a clip of the movie they will be reviewing. This is so artificial as to be laughable. 

Then there is the realization that neither host is very enthralling. They do their job, but without a lot of passion. Remember the discussions and arguments that Ebert and his original co-host Gene Siskel had when discussing a movie? When those two disagreed, that was entertaining and it made for great television. But even when they both agreed on a film, their chat was interesting, as both of them had assembled a nicely organized and well-thought out analysis of the film. This was intelligent television that was based on doing a job as well as possible rather than doing as much as possible.

By that last sentence, I'm referring to the fact that with this new show, there's too much going on. After three reviews by the hosts, we were presented a new review by Ebert himself. As we viewed film clips, Ebert's wife Chaz read his review in a voice-over narration. As she finished, we were given a brief (two to three second) shot of Ebert in his office behind his laptop looking at the camera with his thumb pointed up, a sign that he recommended the film. To me, this quick glimpse of Ebert was unfortunate, as he was shot from about 15-20 feet away in a darkly lit setting; seeing him in this moment made his appearance a bit ghoulish, I'm sorry to say. 

This is really sad, as the producers (Ebert himself along with Chaz) probably believed that no one would watch the program if viewers were subject to Ebert's physical condition. While I can understand that (television is almost always about glamour to some degree), showing Ebert in this light is rather strange. I'm sure they didn't intend it this way, but the momentary image of Ebert pushed to the back of the frame is reminiscent of a freak show.

After that, there were two brief clips about current issues in the movies. One was from Jeff Greenfield, who I've admired over the years for his insight into politics among other topics. This piece was a what-if? look at how the Oscars would differ if the studios ran negative campaigns for Best Picture; in Greenfield's essay, the producers of The King's Speech and The Social Network would be jabbing each other's work for flaws. Interesting idea, to be sure, but it didn't have much depth beyond the surface level. Jeff's done much better work.

The second piece, about the creator of the Oscar-nominated Exit Through the Gift Shop was remarkably dull and pointless; I looked on the show's website to learn of the host of this piece, as I couldn't recall his name, which tells you how much of an impression this segment had on me (I still can't remember who was the creator of this piece, even after looking at the site.)

So for a solution - how about this? Delete these segments and review more movies or go into more depth on the movies you do review. I'm all for something different in a movie review show, but these segments add nothing. Deal from strength and create some depth, some structure and please, make this watchable. The talent is there, but it's been wrapped up in a delicate little package that wants to please a younger, more hip audience as well as an older, more conservative viewership. When you try to please everyone, you please no one.

I don't remember who first said it, but the worst sin of all is to be boring. Given that definition, this show has committed a lot of sins. If it doesn't get rehauled real soon, it will die a quiet death.