Category: Best Actor

1941 – Orson Welles

Citizen Kane

I’ll start this review of Orson Welles’ Best Actor nominated performance in Citizen Kane by saying that he was robbed.  That Oscar should have been his.  I mean, Gary Cooper was just fine in Sergeant York, but Here, playing the character of Charles Foster Kane, Welles turned in a multi-layered performance with nuance and depth.  He had to play the man at multiple ages, ranging from old to young, with an emotional landscape that, frankly, put Sergeant York to shame.

First off, let’s go over his look.  The makeup artists who made him age believably over the course of decades really knew what they were doing.  From young adult to middle-age, and from mid-life to old age, he looked real and natural at every stage.  And Orson pulled it off wonderfully, using his mannerisms and facial expressions to sell the look.  He did a fantastic job, no matter what age he was playing.

Then there was the wonderful way the character was written.  He was a man with way too much money, and a propensity for narcissism.  He had a pathological need to be loved, but had very little concept of how to love anyone but himself.  He treated both friends and wives as possessions, as easily bought or sold as a statue.  And yet, though he built a vast empire of wealth and acquisitions, he was never fulfilled, never happy.  There was a deep complexity about the man that Welles really seemed to embody perfectly.  It was a stellar performance.

And I’ll finish up by going into the drama of the film.  Welles really did the lion’s share of the film’s emotional heft, but it wasn’t all just him.  Every character had a great story, a moment to shine, and reason for being there.  But it was all aimed at enhancing Kane’s emotional journey.  He was written to be an enigma, a mystery of multiple levels.  Everything from his happiness to his anger, his ambition to his depression, his loves to his complete lack of understanding of love, all combined to make a truly memorable performance, for which I think Welles should have won the Oscar.  It was a part that was written better, and Welles was the better actor, than Gary Cooper in Sergeant York.  And it was all made even more impressive because Welles was also the writer, the director, and the producer.

1941 – Robert Montgomery

Here Comes Mr. Jordan

OK, Let me just say, I’ve never been a huge fan of this movie, in general.  It has a few good moments, but they seem to be few and far between.  For me, the best part of the movie was Claude Rains.  That’s not to say Robert Montgomery did a bad job.  I just mean that the role, as it was written was a little one-note, and as a result, the character of Joe Pendleton was a little dull to watch on the screen.  He basically had two gears.  He had the fast-talking mook, and the soft-spoken guy in puppy-love.  Those two faces got a little old by the end of the film.

OK, so the guy is a professional boxer.  He is always in control of his situation, even when he isn’t.  He is almost obnoxious in his arrogance and self-confidence, and that remains a constant through most of the film.  Then he turns shy and gentle at the drop of a hat whenever the girl he fancies enters the room.  In my book, that means the actor didn’t have to stretch himself.  I mean, really, the film is a supernatural rom-com.  The problem is that, the way Montgomery played him, he was barely amusing, and only mildly romantic.

But I know he’s a good actor.  I’ve seen him in other films that proved it, films like 1937’s Night Must Fall or 1945’s They Were Expendable.  Here, his forced New York attitude was just annoying.  I couldn’t take him seriously.  I mean, maybe I’m missing the point.  Was that supposed to be a source of light-hearted comedy in the movie; the fact that he kept forgetting that he was dead or that he kept trying to boss Mr. Jordan and Messenger 7013 around?  I’m sorry, but it wasn’t funny.

Still, as I mentioned, he was a different person whenever Bette Logan came within sight.  Then, for those brief moments, he was a likeable person because he stopped acting like a big palooka, and became a real person.  Now, I realize I’m really oversimplifying his performance.  I mean there was actually a third persona he adopted once in a while.  And that was the confused guy who couldn’t figure out what was going on.  But even those moments were few and far-between.  This isn’t my first time watching the movie, and I still don’t get why his performance got so much attention.  At best, I’d call it average for the distinguished actor.

1941 – Walter Huston

The Devil and Daniel Webster

First off, to address the little elephant in the room, the poster says All that Money Can Buy because they actually changed the name of the movie to avoid confusion with another film that came out around the same time called The Devil and Miss Jones, but the restored the name later. 

I actually loved Walter Huston’s performance in this movie.  He played none other than the Devil, himself.  There was no pitchfork, no fire and brimstone, no horns, though he wore a hat that often gave the appearance of horns.  He was the trickster, who was out to swindle honest men out of their souls.  What was so wonderful about his performance was that he seemed to play into the mythos of old Scratch.  He was friendly and charming.  He was quick with a handshake.  But there was a maniacal madness lurking just under the surface.  There was a dark and calculating sense of single-minded purpose.  Nowhere was this more evident than in the barn dance scene.  He was playing the fiddle faster and faster, his features growing darker and more demonic as he played.

And then there was his voice, his recognizable voice that has to be a Huston Family trait.  I first heard it in his son, John Huston, in the 1977 animated film, The Hobbit, voicing Gandalf.  Walter’s voice had that same epic quality, that same gravitas, that same personality.  His voice was perfect for the sly Father of Lies.  His wide smile was almost clown-like, showing all his teeth in a slightly disturbing way.  And yet, it was strangely mischievous and disarming at the same time.

But I hesitantly venture the opinion that maybe he shouldn’t have been nominated for Best Actor.  The role of Mr. Scratch wasn’t the lead character of the film.  That character was actually James Craig, playing Jabez Stone.  He was the story’s protagonist.  It was, after all, his soul that was in danger from the supporting character of Mr. Scratch, and it was his story that the plot followed.  It’s just that, due in large part to Huston’s great performance, the devil was more interesting to watch.  Houston was a scene stealer!  He even stole that last scene of the film.  Looking for his next victim, he breaks the fourth wall and points at the audience.

1941 – Cary Grant

Penny Serenade

This nomination actually surprised me, but not because I don’t think Grant deserved his nomination.  He absolutely did.  I was surprised that this was his first Best Actor nomination, and his first of only two, at that.  He is one of the most well-remembered and beloved movie stars of his time.  He was a very good actor, who seemed perfectly at home in front of the camera.  Playing the part of Roger Adams, the romantic lead in this drama, allowed him to show just how skilled he was.

Now, I’ll admit, when I think of Cary Grant, I think more of his comedic roles in films like the Philadelphia Story, Bringing Up Baby, Arsenic and Old Lace, and His Gal Friday.  But this movie was a romantic drama.  There were moments where he needed to be teetering on the edge of tears, and other times when severe depression was called for.  Grant handled it all with depth and gravitas.  The scene the leaps to mind is the one in which he is pleading with a judge not to take away his adopted daughter because he has no steady income.  The sheer desperation he was able to put into his performance was impressive.

And that wasn’t the only scene where he really leaned into the drama.  At the end, when his wife is leaving him, he knows that he has really messed up his marriage, and that it is his own fault.  Grant was amazing as he tells his wife that he can’t think of a reason for her to stay with him.  He showed more than simple depression in that moment.  There was fear as well, and that elevated the emotion of the scene to something special.

Alright, yes.  There was an amusing scene in which both Grant and his costar Irene Dunne were able to ham it up a bit and make us all laugh a little.  The baby’s first night in their home was pretty funny.  When Roger thinks the infant is missing and starts to panic, I could tell that Grant was well within his comedic element.  But when I think of this movie, it’ll be the dramatic moments that I’ll remember.  There was a reason why audiences loved the actor for such a long time, and why he had such a prolific career.  And apparently he was more than just a comedic genius.  He was as dramatic as you could want when he needed to be.

1941 – Gary Cooper

Sergeant York

I’m going to say something that I am guessing is an unpopular opinion.  Was he a good actor?  Good enough.  Was he an actor with a wide range?  Not so much.  Cooper had a habit of choosing roles that were very homogenized.  To put is plainly, he often played himself.  But the thing was that everybody really liked who he was.  He was a poster child for good clean American wholesomeness, and the audiences of the time responded to that persona with enthusiasm. 

In this film, as one might guess, Cooper played an all American war hero.  Aside from a slightly rough beginning, after which he made a decision to own a piece of property so he could marry his sweetheart, the character of Alvin York became a hard-working, honest and forthright man.  After the land was bought out from under him, he found religion and became a mild-mannered saint with the innocence of a child, the same character he played in many of his films.

What made his character interesting to me was the idea that once he was drafted into the Army during WWI, he attempted to be a conscientious objector, refusing to kill based on his religious convictions.  However, when in battle, he killed because it had to be done.  I really liked how the character was written after that.  The nation wanted to honor him with offers of money and fame.  But he rejected it all because he had done something he wasn’t proud of.  It was an interesting take on a war hero.  Never-mind that he gladly accepted the land and the modern house that was gifted to him at the end of the movie.  That property was still bought with the blood of German men, Sergeant!  Oh well…

But the real question I have to ask here is this.  Did Gary Cooper deserve the Oscar he took home for his efforts?  I don’t know.  Of the five nominees in the Best Actor category, I have only seen this and Orson Wells in Citizen Kane.  I’d like to think that Wells probably should have been awarded the top prize, but that’s just me.  Still, I have to follow my own rules.  An acting Oscar is the marriage of a good actor and a well-written part.  And those 1940s audiences really loved all those wholesome roles that Cooper so often played.  Sergeant York was no exception.

1940 – Henry Fonda

The Grapes of Wrath

Now here was an Oscar-worthy performance.  Fonda had gravitas, screen presence, great acting chops, and a very well-written script.  The entire cast was good.  Even the extras.  But Fonda stood out as a cut above the rest, save one.  Jane Darwell, who played his mother, may have out-shined him, but that’s debatable.  They were both so good.  Fonda was perfectly cast.

For one thing, he really looked the part, and not just on the surface.  Watch his eyes.  Just like the character of Tom Joad, his face had both innocence and a barely hidden darkness.  There was kindness and an unmistakable propensity for violence.  There was the desire to be good, and a comfortableness for being bad.  Fonda was able to bring all these things to the character.  And more than that, it all appeared to be a part of not just the character, but the actor as well.

You see, Tom’s character arch starts off with him being on parole, freshly out of prison.  He’d been incarcerated for murder, and he seemed to have no compunctions about letting people know his crime.  But the story took place in the Great Depression, and I imagine there were a lot of angry young men during that difficult time in history.  But despite his sordid past, he was constantly trying to be a good son, a good worker, a good man.  It was only when he began to see the widespread injustice being visited upon the common folk of the land, tho poor, the downtrodden, that he allowed his anger to control him.  He witnessed a friend getting killed by the well-to-do men of the law, and he lashed out in rage, killing yet again.  By the end of the film, he had to go on the run to avoid being taken back to prison.  The movie was actually kind of a downer. But Fonda played the part in such a way that despite the tragic and depressing circumstances of the times, he retained that innocence.  It made the character redeemable and almost justified in his actions.  That dichotomy must have been difficult to portray, but Fonda did it with room to spare.  He was just a great actor.  Actually, I’ve never seen him play a part badly in any movie.  In fact, I might have voted for him to take home the 1940 Best Actor award instead of James Stewart.

1940 – Laurence Olivier

Rebecca

Let me start off by saying two things.  First, I’m glad Laurence Olivier was nominated for Best Actor.  I believe he deserved it.  Second, I’m glad he didn’t win.  I don’t think he deserved that.  This was the second of his ten acting nominations that he earned over the course of his long career, four of which were for Shakespeare films, and one of which was actually a Best Supporting Actor nomination in 1976 for his role in Marathon Man.  It was clear that he was a natural in front of the camera, but as I see it, there were two things wrong with his performance that prevented him from taking home the Oscar.

First, Olivier was British, which isn’t a strike against him, but he fell victim to the stoic British attitude, that strongly emotionless style of acting.  Yes, I know that if I look under the surface, I would see the intense emotion that was bubbling beneath the calm and flat exterior, but with this movie, I didn’t want to have to look that hard to see what was supposed to there.  I wanted some visible passion, some real anger, some of the explosive rage that, according to the script, should have been part of his character.  Instead, his fits of rage were too mild, and weren’t very frightening, though they may have been enough to scare the new Mrs. de Winter.

Second, the script failed the actor.  From what I have read, the source material radically changed his character.  In the book, (Spoiler Alert) Maxim actually did murder Rebecca.  How much better might the movie have been if they had kept that in the movie?  But I get it.  In 1940, the censers wouldn’t have liked it if a murder got away with his crime.

But just imagine how different the ending would have been if Maxim had killed his first wife.  Then we would have been so much more afraid for the Second Mrs. de Winter when he confessed his sins to her, knowing that he was capable of anything.  Maybe they even could have killed him off in the fire at the end, appeasing the Hayes Code, and giving Maxim his deserved punishment.  But I get it.  They wanted their happy ending where the loving couple end up together, and they got it.  But I suppose they did what they had to, to get the movie made.

1940 – Raymond Massey

Abe Lincoln in Illinois

I’m very sorry to say, I didn’t like Raymond Massey performance in this movie and I have several very specific reasons why.  Obviously it is a story about the life of Abraham Lincoln before he was elected President of the United States.  It covered his humble beginnings, his reluctant sojourns into politics, and the questionable relationship and marriage to Mary Todd.  The film got a few of the facts right, but they got Lincoln’s actually motivations quite wrong, something I felt through Massey’s performance.  I know I’m being picky.  He actually had a fair amount of ambition to be a politician.  And he actually had a nice relationship with his wife.

But what I didn’t like about Massey’s performance was that he portrayed the historical figure as a rather likeable man at the beginning, and pretty much the opposite in his later years.  And I can’t imagine that he would have been as popular or charismatic if he was actually like the character Massey played.  To start with, yes, he bore a fair resemblance to Lincoln, but the first time we see him on the screen, he shares it with his parents.  The only method filmmakers had of de-aging actors was through makeup and lighting.  But Massey honestly looked older than the actors playing his parents.  I didn’t buy for one moment that he was younger than them.  That took me out of the story right from the very beginning.

And maybe it was the writing, but Massey played Lincoln as a simpleton, a stone’s throw away from an idiot.  Then, as he became educated, his honesty was such a rare thing that everyone instantly liked him.  The pressed him into political service, even though he was very vocal about his desire to not be a politician.  But he did whatever his friend told him to do, only because he was too nice to say no…?

And then as his political stature grew, the more sullen and depressing he became.  His marriage to a woman he didn’t love made him more sour, and Massey seemed to suck the energy out of every scene.  He seemed to make the movie lifeless and dull, and I don’t think it was intentional.  I mean, even when he was giving a rousing political speech, he created an air of depression, not patriotism.  Was that the real Abraham Lincoln?  I doubt it was, but maybe I’m wrong.

1940 – James Stewart

The Philadelphia Story

This was clearly a very popular movie when it came out in 1940.  It was nominated for six Oscars, and took home two.  This was one of them. Stewart took home the prize for Best Actor, and I am not sure if I would have voted for him.  It isn’t that he did a bad job.  Quite the contrary, he did a good job.  But I just finished watching The Great Dictator with Charlie Chaplin, and I would probably have gone in that direction.  But that’s just me.

I find it significant to note that of the four main members of the cast, Cary Grant was the only one who was not nominated for an acting award.  But I almost understand that.  Grant was playing himself, as he did in many of his films.  Mind you, Stewart did, too, but maybe a little less so here.  He played the part of Macaulay Connor, a writer who could be great, if he wasn’t forced to write for Spy Magazine, a cheap rag that is on the lookout for the next big story.

The character was pretty much the same one as we’ve seen Stewart play in other movies.  He could almost have been transplanted from Mr. Smith Goes to Washington or You Can’t Take It With You, and he would have been just fine. The only difference would have been a slightly move cynical attitude born of time and experience, but that’s about it.  He still had the same moralistic, gentlemanly, boy-next-door personality that seemed to come from the actor, and not just from the characters he typically played on the screen.

In the second act of the movie, he had to play drunk, which isn’t always easy.  He wasn’t a sloppy drunk, but was more silly, neatly aligning with the rom-com, screwball comedy genre that dominates the film.  Personally, I think I might have appreciated a little more of an over-the-top performance in these scenes, but again, that’s just me.  He wasn’t drunk enough.  A few slurred words and more stumbling would have been more effective than the little hiccups and silly dialogue that we got. The rest of the time, it was just a typical James Stewart performance.  I know he was Hollywood’s golden child at the time, but I wanted more.  Nominated?  Maybe.  A winner?  I’m not so sure.

1940 – Charlie Chaplin

The Great Dictator

The Hollywood icon, Charlie Chaplin was mostly known for his work in silent films.  But here, he had something to say.  So he said it, which is more significant than you might think.  Chaplin continued to make silent films, even in the sound era, and this was his first real sound film, and he really did a great job.  He was incredible!  Yes, a lot of it was silly comedy, but he clearly knew what he was doing. 

So the movie, which was not only acted by Chaplin, but also written, directed, produced, and scored by the man, was an anti-war movie.  WWII was really starting to pick up, and Chaplin obviously had very strong feelings about what was happening in the world.  But he was also a comedian, so a lot of the kind of comedy that he employed in his earlier films, also made their way into this one.  But as it was a sound film, he got to show just how talented an actor he actually was. 

I cite three things in the film that totally impressed me.  First, his parody of Adolph Hitler, called here, Adenoid Hynkel, was hilarious and technically difficult.  The silly dialogue in his public speech was made up of nonsense German phraseology and ethnic chatter.  And he rattled it all off without ever breaking character, fumbling his words, or even pausing to collect his thoughts.  It was both funny and amazing.  He had to have spent an unbelievable number of hours rehearsing that monologue.  Second was the scene where he danced with a balloon that was a globe of the world.  It was incredibly comical, and surprisingly poignant, portraying Hitler as a man who saw the world as his own personal toy, a play thing with which to amuse himself.  Through Chaplin’s dance, he commented on the real dictator’s megalomania and his careless attitude toward the people living on the planet. 

But I believe it was his final speech that earned him his Oscar nomination.  At the film’s climax, Chaplin abandons everything to speak directly to the movie-going audiences.  He leaves behind the movie’s narrative, its comedy, and its characters, and gives an amazing three-and-a-half minute impassioned speech, condemning hate and pleading with people all over the world to embrace love and brotherhood.  It was an intense moment that is just as relevant today as it was in 1940.