Category: Nominees – 1960s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zorba the Greek – 1964

Zorba was an interesting character.  He seemed to epitomize the general feel of the entire film, which was that sometimes life is up and sometimes it is down.  Either way, it should be lived to the fullest.  It is a great philosophy, but part of its challenge is being happy, even in the face of tragedy.

As I watched the film, the first thing that struck me was that it reminded me very much of the 1963 Best Picture nominee, America, America.  It seemed to have a number of clear similarities in the cinematography, directing, and even the script.  They both offered the viewer a look into the culture of the Greek people, both touching on the animosity between the Greeks and the Turks.

Anthony Quinn played the title role of Alexis Zorba.  He is a jack of all trades with a long and hard history.  But he has one peculiarity that is a significant part of the plot.  There have been a few times in his life, during periods of great depression or great joy, when he dances.  He dances until he drops from exhaustion as a way to purge emotions that are too intense to bear.

But Zorba is not the protagonist.  The film is really about a young Englishman he meets who happens to own a mine in Crete.  His name is Basil, and he is played by Alan Bates.  He meets Zorba as he is going to his mine to make an attempt at turning it into a working enterprise.  Zorba, who has had mining experience, offers to become his foreman.

Basil is a man who has a lot of trouble showing his emotions, setting him up as a good contrast to Zorba, who wears his emotions on his sleeve.  Their relationship is an odd one.  They start out as strangers, and become employer and employee, and finally friends.  Along the way, they each experience love in their own ways, and in the end, Basil asks Zorba to teach him to dance, or to metaphorically embrace life.

The story is really Basil’s and follows the deep and profound life-lessons he learns from Zorba.  And as far as I can tell, the lessons seem to have a specific kind of philosophy.  Take life as it comes and appreciate your fortunes, both good and bad.  Go where the wind blows you and know that wherever you land is exactly where you are meant to be.  And don’t put too much stock in what you read in books.  Books can tell you about the world, but you will never know the world until you experience it for yourself.

Now, I have to mention an aspect of the plot that I found uncomfortable.  Living in the village is a beautiful widow, played by Irene Papas.  A young boy is in love with her, but she constantly rejects his advances.  One evening, the local boy tries to get her attention and fails.  That same night, Basil is finally seen going to her bed.  But here is where it got weird.  The young boy is told of the widow’s acceptance of a lover and so he drowns himself. The next day, the boy’s father, along with the entire town, stones her in the streets.  Basil is too afraid to save her so he sends for Zorba.  Zorba comes to rescue her, but the dead boy’s father slits the widow’s throat.  Everybody seems to be OK with the murder.  Never-mind the fact that the widow never pretended to accept the boy’s affections, and she was not responsible for his suicide.  I didn’t understand why everyone wanted her dead.

Another strange part of the story had to do with the character of Madam Hortense, played by Lila Kedrova.  She is an older foreign woman who owns the local hotel.  She has money and falls for Zorba.  He is eventually tricked into marrying her, but soon after the wedding she falls ill and dies.  The instant she is dead, the evil villagers fall upon her house like vultures and steal her every possession, leaving Zorba with nothing more than a parrot.

But all is well.  Basil learns to dance away his pain, both at losing his lover and possibly being the cause of her death.  Zorba teaches him to dance away the loss of all his money and business ventures.  He dances until he is happy and is able to leave Greece.  It was a strange ending, but appropriate enough, I guess.  After all, when you have lost everything, what else can you do but embrace life and try to be happy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mary Poppins – 1964

This is a film that I have seen many times.  I know the songs, and I know the scenes.  I know the actors, the costumes, the special effects, and the plot.  I know which parts I like and which parts I don’t.  The challenge with this review will be deciding what to leave out.  Incidentally, the only thing I wish the movie would have left out was the song I Love To Laugh.  I always have to roll my eyes during that scene.  It is like uncomfortable, forced merriment, a standard Disney trait.

The film’s big star was Julie Andrews, playing the magical nanny, Mary Poppins.  Opposite her is Dick Van Dyke, playing a common dustman named Bert.  The story is centered on the Banks family.  George and Winifred Banks, played by David Tomlinson and Glynis Johns, are the parents of Jane and Michael Banks, played by child actors Karen Dotrice and Matthew Garber.  George is a jerk and a dismally unfeeling father.  Winifred is a bubble-headed and subservient mother and wife.  The children are undisciplined and stubborn with a penchant for running away from home.

The family is in a perpetual state of dysfunction.  That is… until Mary Poppins arrives.  Through the use of love, kindness, and a healthy dose of magic, she teaches the children to behave, and more importantly, she teaches the parents to pay attention to and love their kids.  She is helped by Bert, a street-wise cockney who is full of sage advice.

And that’s the bare bones of the plot.  The story is about the healing of the Banks family, but the fun is in the adventures the children have while learning their lessons about love, social awareness, and responsibility.  The drama comes when George learns his lessons.  Winifred doesn’t seem to learn much, as her character remains the same from beginning to end.

It is a sweet movie that is very obviously geared toward children.  But every time I watch it, I can’t help but wonder about the relationship between Mary and Bert.  They certainly have some kind of history.  They seem to imply that the story they are playing out is one that has been lived through before.  Bert is perfectly comfortable with Mary and her magical ways.  The two speak to each other as old friends.  But I want to know their history.

So I did a little research.  Mary Poppins is based on a series of 8 children’s books written by P. L. Travers.  In the books, Mary is much stricter and most of the time she is decidedly cross.  But everyone loves her anyway because of her magic.  And while I’m on the subject, I’d also like to know more about the nature of her magic.  When viewed with a critical eye, she seems to be some sort of witch, almost like she belongs in the Harry Potter universe.  She shows evidence of being telekinetic, telepathic, and empathic.  She can converse with animals.  And she carries magical objects like a carpet bag that holds more than it should be able to, or an umbrella handle that seems to be a sentient creature.

Her relationship with Bert seems to be one of deep platonic fondness.  The character of Uncle Albert, played by Ed Wynn, who floats up to the ceiling whenever he laughs too much, is supposed to be Mary’s uncle.  Clearly magic runs in their family.  Bert, however, is just a friend of the family, and is specifically shown to have no magical powers.

Anyway, aside from all that, most of the film is just frothy and fun.  The memorable songs were written by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman.  Great songs like A Spoonful of Sugar, Jolly Holiday, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Step in Time, and Let’s go Fly a Kite are joyous and easy to sing along with.  But the film was also smart by exploring a very serious and dramatic side.  Other great songs like Stay Awake, Feed the Birds, and Chim Chim Cher-ee, have an almost melancholy quality that can be quite touching, the last one being about finding beauty in unexpected people and places.

The costumes, especially Mary’s, were beautiful and fanciful.  I Particular liked the dresses she wore in the Jolly Holiday sequence and the rooftop sequence.  The sets were wonderful and playful.  Some of the sets were even animated.  The entire Jolly Holiday section took place in a cartoon world, complete with singing barnyard animals and dancing penguins.  The special effects were beautifully done, and pretty innovative for their time.

And lastly, I have to give a special shout-out to the film’s star, Julie Andrews.  Not only did she look beautiful, but she had a golden voice that was absolutely flawless.  She proved that she could dance as well as sing, and made it all look and sound effortless.  Just like the character of Mary Poppins, Andrews was practically perfect in every way.  Great performance, Julie!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb – 1964

First and foremost, this film was a political satire black comedy, directed by Stanley Kubrick.  But beneath that veneer, it bordered on simple farce.  It targets the subject of the Cold War, which was a current and relevant issue in the 1960s.  However, I feel that, though there were plenty of valid things about the government and the military that were being made fun of, many of the jokes have lost their significance in the modern era.  In 1964 it all would have been quite topical, but today, much of that quality has been lost.

The film starred Peter Sellers in 3 different and very distinct roles.  He played a British RAF exchange officer, Captain Mandrake.  He also played the President of the United States, Merkin Muffley.  And finally, he played the film’s title role, Dr. Strangelove, a wheelchair-bound nuclear war expert and former Nazi.  Then, there were three other significant characters in the film.  Sterling Hayden played Brigadier General Jack Ripper.  George C. Scott played General Buck Turgidson.  And last, but not least, Slim Pickens played Major T. J. Kong.

In order to get to the point of the movie’s full title, I’ll give as brief a synopsis of the movie as I can.  The U.S. has a great many bombers positioned around the Russian border, waiting for bombing codes from their superiors.  General Ripper is the only man who has the codes to order the bombers to attack their targets with a devastating barrage of H-bombs.  He is also the only man with the proper codes to recall them.  Ripper goes crazy and orders an unprovoked, all-out attack on the “Ruskies”.  Kong is one of the pilots who receives the code for the attack.

In the war-room at the Pentagon, President Muffley calls in his entire staff of Military advisors, including Turgidson and Strangelove, to deal with the situation.  Turgidson is excited by the prospect of war, as are all evil military men, though Mufley does everything he can to avert mutually assured destruction.  The Russian Ambassador, Alexei de Sadeski, Played by Peter Bull, informs him that if the U.S. drops any bombs on Russia, an automatic and unstoppable device will set off a doomsday machine which will irradiate the surface of the earth, destroying all life for the next hundred years.

After Ripper commits suicide, Captain Mandrake figures out the recall code and recalls all the bombers.  But it is all for nothing.  Kong’s communication equipment has been damaged, and he does not receive the recall code.  He proceeds to bomb his target, ensuring a world-wide nuclear holocaust.

Knowing that the world is now doomed, Dr. Strangelove deduces that humanity’s only hope is to get as many people as possible to take up residence in deep mine-shafts, away from the radiation, for the next hundred years.  In order to ensure sufficient breeding stock to repopulate the earth, there would have to be ten women for every man, each of whom would spend the remainder of his days making love to as many women as possible.  Thus: How I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb.

Yes, it is a silly farce, and to be sure, there were some very funny moments.  Seller’s portrayal of the ex-Nazi, Strangelove, was particularly hilarious, especially when his crippled right arm would randomly spring up into a Nazi “sieg heil!” salute.  He would also slip and call the U.S. President “Mein Führer.”  But for my tastes, many of the jokes just weren’t all that funny.  The humor was there, but it was so dry that I found myself not laughing.

One of the biggest things being satirized was the extreme paranoia of military leaders who were dealing with the Cold War and the threat of nuclear annihilation.  Another was the stupidity and ineffectualness of the leaders of the Russian and U.S. governments.  But this was 1964, and many people believed in the reality of those things.  And the very 60s concept of free love did not escape my notice.

But just because I didn’t find the political humor very funny, doesn’t mean the rest of the world didn’t.  In 2000, readers of Total Film magazine voted it the 24th greatest comedic film of all time.  It is also listed as number 26 on Empire’s 500 Greatest Movies of All Time.  It has been described as “arguably the best political satire of the century.”  Sure, it was a smarter film than Airplane!, but I’ll never stop laughing with that one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Becket – 1964

I remember seeing a stage production of Becket when I was in high school, and I recall enjoying it very much.  I have, until today, not remembered very clearly what it was really about and why I liked it so much.  That being said, I had high expectations for this movie.  I’m very happy to report that I have not been disappointed.  Becket is a wonderful story of King Henry II and his friend, Becket.

I’ll reiterate: The story is about King Henry II.  Though the film’s title names the King’s friend, the main protagonist is the King.  Peter O’Toole plays King Henry, a man who both starts and ends the drama of the plot.  Henry is portrayed as a child, both mentally and emotionally.  He is the monarch of all England, but wants to spend all his time drinking and whoring.  His character arch and his motives are what ultimately drive the plot forward.

Thomas Becket, played by Richard Burton, starts out as his drinking buddy and wing man.  The only problem with the arrangement is that Becket is a Saxon.  He is only the King’s man-servant because Henry is a Norman whose ancestors conquered the Saxons.  Yes, Becket is Henry’s friend, but only because Henry orders him to be so.  Becket plays his part because he thinks it is the best way for him to survive, but he secretly loathes the King.

Nowhere is this more evident than when Henry insensitively steals Becket’s lovely girlfriend Gwendolen, played by Sian Phillips, driving her to commit suicide.  Becket is only able to endure the King’s childish behavior by burying his conscience and ridding himself of all emotion.  But the King, oblivious to Becket’s true feelings, goes out of his way to bestow power and position on his friend, even going so far as to make Becket the Archbishop of Canterbury.  In fact, his professed love for Becket borders precariously on a homosexual love, and I wonder if that was intentional.

It has been a great and well-scripted story already, but here is where it gets interesting.  When one of the King’s men murders a Catholic priest, Becket takes his role seriously and demands the man’s arrest.  But an attack on a King’s man is an attack on the King, and King Henry has no intention of bowing to the Church.  Once his greatest friend, Becket has now become the King’s greatest enemy.  All this leads to a dramatic and bloody climax.

The scenes of drama were intense and the acting was superb.  O’Toole and Burton both played their parts splendidly.  I was quite impressed, thinking that the film was perfectly cast.  The sets and props were spot-on, making the whole thing very believable.  I was also impressed with the costumes, which, this being a period piece, could have so easily gone the bright and garish rout taken by other period films like The Adventures of Robin Hood and Ivanhoe.  The colors were muted and natural.

And I would be remiss if I did not mention the music.  The film’s score was excellent.  Written by Laurence Rosenthall, the score was incredibly well-suited to the subject matter. It had a very modern sound that was based in a renaissance feel.  It made full use of a large orchestra to intensify the drama, often using very dark, disturbing, and even ominous sounds.  It was a great score that was beautifully written.

But before I finish this review, I have to make special mention of a few other actors who all played their parts wonderfully and added to the great realism of the film.  Sir John Gielgud played King Louis VII of France who sheltered Becket in his exile.  David Weston played Brother John, a monk who became Becket’s devout servant and friend within his position as Archbishop.  Pamela Brown played Henry’s hated and hateful wife, Queen Eleanor.

And finally, I have to mention the film’s lack of historical accuracy, only to say that in this case, I’m alright with what they did.  The author of the original play on which the film is based, Jean Anouilh, knew of what was inaccurate, but said that he was writing a drama, not a history.  The biggest falsehood was that Thomas Becket was actually a Norman.  But to leave that in would destroy most of the film’s character motivations and much of its drama.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lilies of the Field – 1963

Well, it’s time to scale things back for a bit.  The nominees for 1963 were all larger epics, all except for Lilies of the Field.  America, America, Cleopatra, How the West Was Won, and even the winner, Tom Jones, had stories that spanned years and grand themes that gave them a larger feel.  But Lilies of the Field was a small film that took place over the course of only a few months.  The cast was not very big and the small and intimate nature of the movie was more relaxed and simple.  Even the length of the film was only an hour and 34 minutes.

Sidney Poitier played Homer Smith, a handyman who was just passing through.  He stops at a nunnery in the middle of the Arizona desert.  There, he meets 5 German nuns who are led by Mother Maria, played by Lilia Skala.  Mother Maria believes that Homer was sent by God in answer to her prayers.  She hires Homer to repair a roof.  Then, she somehow gets him to stay overnight and drive the sisters into the local town on Sunday morning.  Then, she somehow convinces him to build them a chapel.

Homer stays and works.  He goes out of his way to help the sisters.  He is generous and kind.  He helps them to learn the English language.  He brings them gifts of food and supplies.  All he asks is that Mother Maria provide the materials he needs to build the chapel.  Finally, with the help of the Mexican townsfolk, he builds a beautiful chapel, something of which he can be proud.

That’s the simplified version.  But the interest lies in the complex interactions between the two strong personalities of Homer and Mother Maria.  The way I saw it, I was on Homer’s side.  He was honest, hard-working, and generous.  But I am finding it difficult to put into words, just how against Mother Maria I really am.  On the one hand, she was a terrible person.  She was dishonest, manipulative, a bully of sorts, and ungrateful.  On the other hand, she had a strength of character and a powerful faith which led her to accomplish seemingly impossible goals.

Why do I say that?  Well, she clearly took advantage of Homer without even thanking him for his efforts.  She seemed to believe that he had been sent by God to be her personal slave.  Seriously.  He agrees to do the work, expecting pay.  But whenever he brings up the subject of payment, she talks over him, gives him another task to perform, and bullies him into silence.  She treats him without respect and never even thanks him for his work, saying that God was the one who sent him, so God should receive the thanks.

She manipulates Homer into building the chapel.  But he is a generous guy.  He sees that the sisters are in need and he allows himself to be strong-armed into the monumental task.  So they make an arrangement.  He agrees to build the chapel and she agrees to provide the bricks and building materials.  But when she fails to hold up her end of the bargain, she takes it out on him, asking him why he is not building, as if she doesn’t understand that he can’t build the chapel without bricks.

Homer brings the sisters gifts food and supplies out of the goodness of his heart, and still, Mother Maria only thanks God.  Even in the end, when the chapel is finished, the bricks and extra labor having been provided by the local townsfolk, she cannot bring herself to thank Homer.  God built the chapel, not Homer.  Well, screw you lady!  God may have used Homer as his instrument, but Homer did the work!  A simple thank you was all he wanted!

I’ll be honest, the ending upset me and I don’t think it was supposed to.  The final scene is one in which Homer tricks Mother Maria into saying the words, “thank you.”  But the words were not directed at him and as soon as she caught herself saying them, she stifled them.  There was no sincerity in her words.  And this is supposed to be the touching moment of understanding between them?  I didn’t get that sense at all.

I have also learned that the book ends beyond the film, showing how after Homer leaves, Mother Maria spreads rumors and creates a myth that Homer was really an angel sent by God, that he was not really human at all, and that he was a devout Christian who did his work joyfully.  Wrong!  You bullied a good man and completely took advantage of his generosity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How the West Was Won – 1962

This was a well-made movie with a huge cast of huge names.  Somehow, they got some of the biggest stars in Hollywood to take small roles and bit parts.  People like John Wayne, James Stewart, Gregory Peck, Henry Fonda, Karl Malden, Robert Preston, Carroll Baker, Carolyn Jones, Agnes Moorhead, Harry Morgan, Debby Reynolds, George Peppard, Eli Wallach, Richard Widmark, Andy Divine, Russ Tamblyn, and Spencer Tracy made for an epic film that was pretty impressive in its scope and scale.

The film was made up of 5 vignettes, each one a story in itself, telling of a different aspect of how early American settlers tamed and colonized the western frontier.  Each story had a connecting thread that began with the Prescott family and continued with their descendants.  First was The Rivers of 1839, followed by The Plains of 1851.  Next came the Civil War between 1861 and 1865.  After that was the Railroads in 1868.  And finally came the Outlaws in 1889.  Each story was good enough to have been expanded into an entire film, but they were told short and sweet.  They were interesting and easily followed.  Actors and actresses came and went, but the common thread of the single family that ran through them all gave the film a tight cohesiveness.

In part one, the family started out with the parents, Zebulon Prescott and his wife Rebecca, played by Malden and Moorehead.  Their two daughters, Eve and Lilith, are played by Baker and Reynolds.  At the end of part one, Eve marries Linus Rawlings, played by Stewart.   In part two, Lilith marries Cleve Van Valen, played by Peck.  In part three, Linus and later, his son Zeb, played by Peppard, joins the Union Army.  In part four, Zeb tries to make peace with Indians as the Railroads are being built.  And in part five, we learn that Cleve and Lilith have become wealthy as railroad tycoons, but have fallen on hard times.  Cleve is dead and Lilith moves to her ranch in Arizona along with her nephew Zeb, who has become a US Marshall.  He is married to Julie, played by Jones, and after fighting to take down a gang of dangerous outlaws, they all ride off into the sunset.

And that’s the basic story line.  The rest of the big name actors all took smaller roles.  For example, John Wayne played General Sherman in the Civil War story.  Robert Preston played a Roger Morgan, a wagonmaster crossing the plains with Lillith.  Henry Fonda played Jethro Stewart, a buffalo hunter who helped Zeb make peace with the Indians.  Eli Wallach played Charlie Gant, the head of the gang of outlaws who fought with Zeb.

Three of the vignettes were directed by Henry Hathaway, one by John Ford, and one by George Marshall.  But unless you are well versed in their various directing styles, you’d never notice any of the differences.  The stories were distinct, and yet they all fit together like a kind of jigsaw puzzle, eventually presenting us with a larger image.

One of the things that really caught my attention was the incredible cinematography.  Some of the wide open shots of the beautiful and scenic American geography were stunning.  The movie was one of only two dramatic feature films ever to be filmed in a new and innovative process called Cinerama.  Unfortunately the process could only be effective if shown on a special curved screen.  When shown on a flat screen, the actors didn’t seem to be looking at each other.  There were also wide shots in which the image on the screen was drastically curved, giving it a fish-eye effect.

The acting was top-notch.  I especially liked Reynolds and Baker.  Reynolds’ character, Lilith, was the only character to be alive in all 5 vignettes, though she only appeared in 3.  The movie had the advantage of star power and it used it to the fullest.  Even Spencer Tracy, who did not appear on-screen, was the narrator who helped with the transitions between the different segments, and he did a wonderful job.

The feel of the epic reflected the manifest destiny of the American settlers, which said that we were meant to be the masters of the land simply because we were, and yet it was honest at the same time.  There were good people and bad, and some people who were a bit of both.  The movie well-made and just fun to watch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cleopatra – 1963

This movie was alright, but I’ll be honest.  I expected more from the cast.  I was a bit underwhelmed by the performances of Elizabeth Taylor as Queen Cleopatra, Rex Harrison as Julius Cesar, and Richard Burton as Mark Antony.  They didn’t do a horrible job, but I’ve seen each of them in other films in which they did better jobs.  This was an epic and Hollywood made it into a huge deal.  It had big sets, big costumes, big music, big stars, hundreds and hundreds of extras, and, consequently, a budget that nearly bankrupted 20^th Century Fox.  I think the film was too ambitious, trying to be bigger than it needed to be.  The film was over 4 hours long, but in my research, I have learned that the original cut was over 6 hours!

Unfortunately, the production was plagued with so many problems that there was no way it could have been any better than it was.  The original budget was $2 million, but the film ended up costing $37 million.  Why?  Because everything was originally set to be filmed in London.  Gigantic sets were built, exotic plants were imported, and scenes were filmed.  But then Elizabeth Taylor became ill, so ill that surgery was required to save her life.  However, the weather in London was so detrimental to her recovery that the filming was moved to Rome.

This caused great delays in the schedule.  Due to prior commitments, the actors playing Julius Cesar and Mark Antony had to leave the production, so they had to be recast, and all their footage had to be filmed a second time with Harrison and Burton.  In addition to that, the sets all had to be built again in the new location, and the problems just continued to get worse.

Director Joseph L. Mankiewicz originally screened his 6 hour version, but the studio wanted the film cut down to just over 3 so that more screenings could be shown per day in theatres.  Mankiewicz asked if the film could be split into 2 parts and released as 2 separate movies, but his request was denied.  Apparently, Elizabeth Taylor had started a very public affair with Richard Burton.  Cleopatra and Antony’s love story was told in the 2^nd half of the film and Fox wanted to capitalize on the affair.  They felt that waiting an entire year before showing their on-screen romance was too risky.

As for the film, itself, I loved all of Cleopatra’s costume changes.  She was wearing something different in every single scene.  In fact, Taylor held a Guinness Book of World Records title for the most costume changes in a single film: 65 to be exact.  That record was eventually surpassed by Madonna in 1996’s Evita, in which she wore 85 different costumes.

I loved the opulence and glamour of the production as a whole.  I am a fan of epics and this was one on the same scale as other such great films as Quo Vadis, Ben-Hur, and The Ten Commandments.  I enjoy the larger than life sets and the props.  But as always, when watching a historical drama, I have to ask how historically accurate the film was.  I’m happy to say that Cleopatra was pretty spot-on.  Only a few minor details were altered, ones that I have absolutely no problem with.

But I think the film’s failings were two-fold.  First, it was the length.  Four hours is a long time to sit through a movie.  I would have loved to see the original 6 hour version split into two films.  Second was the acting.  Taylor, playing the lead, was obviously not at the top of her game.  Harrison did a good enough job, though I couldn’t help noticing that the Roman Cesar had a decidedly British accent and mannerisms.  He was nothing more than a costume change away from Henry Higgins.  Roddy McDowel’s British accent was no better as he played Octavian, the new Cesar.

Sure, Burton had the same accent, but I thought his performance was a cut above the others.  He seemed a little more natural in his role than his costars.  Mark Antony was portrayed as a great military leader who was effective emasculated by his relationship with Queen Cleopatra.  He loved her so much that he was willing to give up everything to serve her: his country and the adoration of his men.  And when he saw how his love turned him into her slave, destroying his self-respect, not to mention his career, he turned to drink.  Burton played that story line especially well.  Realistic self-pity is not easy to play effectively.  Well done, Burton!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

America, America – 1963

This wasn’t a bad movie.  It wasn’t really my kind of film to watch, but it certainly was entertaining.  It was directed by Elia Kazan, and was loosely based on the life of his uncle.  It followed the character of Stavros Topouzoglou, a young Greek boy living in poverty near the base of Mount Argaeus in Turkish Anatolia.  In the late 1890s, the Greeks and the Armenians of the region were brutally oppressed by the Turks that occupied the land.

Stavros was played by a handsome young actor named Stathis Giallelis.  It was his first film role ever, and he had to study English for nearly 18 months in preparation for the part.  But he did a phenomenal job.  His acting ability was astonishing and his emotional presence was powerful.  Kazan really cast the perfect person in the film’s lead.

Stavros has big dreams of getting out of his home, out from under the oppressive thumb of the Turks, and away from the influences of his family.  He wants to make something of his life on his own terms.  More than anything else, he wants to go to America, the land where you get to make a fresh start and be the master of your own destiny.

In one of the most heartbreaking sequences of the film, his family gathers together everything of value they have and give it to him.  They send him off to the big city of Constantinople to work for his uncle.  Once there, he is charged with earning enough money to slowly bring his family, one by one, to the city.  It is their plan to save the family from their extreme poverty.  But along the way, before he even reaches Constantinople, he becomes the victim of the despicable thief, Abdul, played by Lou Antonio.  Abdul cheats him out of all of his money and possessions.  And what’s worse, he is forced to murder Abdul to save his own life.  He arrives in Constantinople penniless.  It makes you want to weep for him.

He goes to his uncle who had been counting on his family’s money to save his failing business.  But rather than a life that would be lived for someone else, he chooses to leave and take his chances on his own.  The rest of the film follows the young man as he becomes homeless, does backbreaking work for almost no pay, his brush with death, his return to his uncle, his engagement to a young girl with a wealthy father, and his refusal to become trapped in a life that would deny him his dreams of going to America.

Finally, he buys his ticket to cross the ocean.  He has an affair with Sophia Kebabian, a married, wealthy, American woman, played by Kathrine Balfour, and nearly gets himself put on the first boat back to Turkey.  It is only through the supreme sacrifice of his tubercular friend Hohannes, played by Gregory Rozakis, that Stavros is able to get through US immigration.  Hohannes committed suicide and Stavros took his papers and his name.  Once there, he gets a job as a shoeshine boy, and though it takes years, he earns enough money to bring his family to America.  One of the relatives he is able to bring is his nephew, Elia Kazan.

The scope of the tale is epic and really delves into themes of independence and freedom: freedom from oppression, and freedom from the demands of the family.  The character of Stavros is in almost every single scene of the nearly 3 hour film.  He goes through several significant changes and Giallelis handles them all with intense focus and passion.  He really was the highlight of the film.

That’s not to say that the rest of the cast didn’t measure up.  Stavros’ parents, Isaac and Vasso, played by Harry Davis and Elena Karam, also did a wonderful job.  Paul Mann did a great job as Aleko Sinnikoglou, the wealthy father of the homely Thomna, played by Linda Marsh.  Marsh was especially good.  The scenes in which she begs him to love her are powerful and almost difficult to watch because you know he cannot.

The movie was good and well-made, and if I had any real disappointment, it was that it was filmed in black-and-white.  This was, after all, 1963.  Color had been around for over 25 years!  Jump on the bandwagon Elia!  Embrace the color!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Kill a Mockingbird – 1962

This was an excellent movie.  It was touching, inspirational, culturally significant, incredibly well-acted, beautifully written, and wonderfully directed.  It was up against some pretty stiff competition in the Best Picture category.  Films like The Longest Day, The Music Man, Mutiny on the Bounty, and the winner, Lawrence of Arabia seemed to be raising the bar.

To Kill a Mockingbird had something that none of those other films had.  It had a wholesome tenderness that is a rarity in film.  Gregory Peck played the leading character of Atticus Finch, a lawyer in a poor Southern town in 1933.  He was a widowed man with two young children to care for.  And it was that loving relationship that he shared with his children that stood out to me as one of the most phenomenally portrayed aspects of the film.  Peck played the kind of father that we all wish we had.  He was kind and gentle, but firm in his beliefs and willing to fight to uphold them.

His children, Jem and Scout, were played by Phillip Alford and Mary Badham, respectively.  These two characters were incredibly well-written.  Not only was sufficient time devoted to the development of their individual personalities, but the depiction of the relationship between two siblings was deftly handled.  The subtle hierarchy between the older Jem and the younger Scout was beautifully depicted.  Without a doubt, these two kids turned in some fantastic performances.  Badham, who was 6 years old at the time, was the youngest person to ever be nominated for Best Supporting Actress.

The central plot of the film revolved around a court case in which a black man, Tom Robinson, played by Brock Peters, was accused of beating and raping a white girl, Mayella Violet Ewell, played by Collin Wilcox.  Atticus takes the case.  During the mock trial, he proves that not only is Tom Robinson innocent, but heavily implies that it was the girl’s own father who had beat her and raped her.

Finch’s closing argument is an impassioned speech against racism, so eloquently delivered, that, though it is long, I have paraphrased bits and pieces of it here.  He says, “To begin with, this case should never have been brought to trial.  The state has not produced one iota of medical evidence that the crime Tom Robinson has been charged with ever took place.  It has relied instead upon the testimony of two witnesses, whose evidence has been called into serious question.  The witnesses for the State have presented themselves to you in the cynical confidence that you gentlemen would go along with them on the assumption… the evil assumption that all Negroes lie, all Negroes are basically immoral beings, all Negro men are not to be trusted around our women.  An assumption which is, in itself, a lie.  Now I am confident that you gentlemen will review, without passion, the evidence that you have heard, come to a decision, and restore this man to his family.  In the name of GOD, do your duty.  In the name of God, believe… Tom Robinson.”  Unfortunately, prejudice wins out and Robinson is found guilty.

Peck was truly incredible and he earned the Academy Award for Best Actor, a well-deserved honor.  I have also read that Peck, in real life, was very much like the soft-spoken and gentle character he portrayed in the film.  Even though he had a very prolific career, the character of Atticus Finch is widely considered to be his most significant role.

And finally, the last and most enigmatic part of the film is the character of Arthur “Boo” Radley, played by Robert Duvall in his big-screen debut.  He is never actually seen until the final few moments of the film, though he is an object of fear for the children of the town.  He lived in the scary house up the street, the house their parents warned them away from.  He was so violent he had to be chained up in the basement.  But in reality, he turned out to be a kind, gentle, shy recluse.

He watched over the children of the town, always staying out of sight.  But in the end, when Jem and Scout are attacked by a drunk Bob Ewell, played by James Anderson, it is Boo who saves them by killing their assailant.  He carries the unconscious Jem home and finally reveals himself.  The sheriff knew that justice for the Robinson case had finally been carried out, and that convicting Boo for defending the innocent children would be a “sin.”  Duvall did a great job with his small role.  It was a powerfully profound ending to a wonderfully written and well-acted film.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mutiny on the Bounty – 1962

This is the 2^nd time a version of Mutiny on the Bounty has been nominated for Best Picture.  The first time was in 1935, and it starred Clark Gable and Charles Laughton.  That one took home the Oscar for Best Picture.  This one starred Marlon Brando playing the head mutineer, Fletcher Christian, and Trevor Howard as the evil Captain Bligh.

So the first thing I was looking for when I was watching this movie was the differences between the two films.  What was it that made the producers decide that a new version needed to be filmed?  Was anything significantly changed?  Besides the fact that this version was filmed in color, I think the biggest thing was the ending.  In the 1935 version, the film ended with Christian and his men arriving at Pitcairn Island where they make plans to develop a utopian society.  This film actually goes into the tragic aftermath where the mutineers devolve into criminals and turn on each other, though in reality, their criminal behavior was actually worse that the film depicted.

Another difference is that this film version placed a lot more emphasis on the romance between Lieutenant Christian and his Tahitian woman Princess Maimitti, played by Tarita TeriiPaia.  Another thing which I felt the movie devoted significant time to was the free-love attitudes of the Tahitian culture, though when I consider the year in which it was made, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.

But in watching this particular version, I still have the same problem that I had with the 1935 film.  So, because both films were based on the same source material, the original novel by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall, I have to assume that the fault lies there.  The character of Captain Bligh was so mean, cruel, and downright stupid, that he was practically unbelievable.  And my research supports my opinion.  The real William Bligh was not as evil as the film depicts.

The real Bligh was no crueler than any other Naval Captain, though he had a habit of insulting people out of turn.  According to my research, he was vain and was quick to call others incompetent.  The real Bounty’s log shows that Bligh resorted to punishments relatively sparingly.  He scolded when other Captains would have whipped, and whipped when other Captains would have hanged.  And I also found it interesting to note that he and Fletcher Christian had been friends for many years.

The reason why the real crew mutinied is not entirely clear.  It is thought by many that the inexperienced crew simply wasn’t used to the rigors of life at sea and the carefree time they spent in Tahiti made them reluctant to return to their difficult duties on the Bounty.  But, of course, the film depicts the mutineers as the heroes.  They are so mistreated and wrongfully abused by the evil Captain, they seemed to have no choice but to rebel.

And the sadistic depths to which the character of Bligh sank were tantamount to outright murder.  Through his stupidity and inability to take responsibility for the failures of the Bounty’s mission, the crew was being picked off, one by one.  He made bad decisions which cost them time and lives, and he blamed it all on the inadequacies of the crew.  The character actually made a point of saying that cruelty with a purpose is not cruelty at all.  It is efficiency.  That is one messed up way of thinking.

Now, I feel that something else I found in my research must be mentioned.  The more I hear and read about Marlon Brando, the actor, the less likable I find him to be.  He had monstrous ego which was so bad that would tell the directors how to do their jobs.  As paraphrased from Wikipedia, the film’s first director was Carol Reed, however, behind the scenes, Brando effectively took over directing duties himself, causing the film to become far behind schedule and way over budget.  This resulted in Reed pulling out of the project.  He was replaced with Lewis Milestone.

And finally, a quick mention of two things I liked and one I didn’t.  I liked Richard Harris as one of Christian’s fellow Mutineers.  I also liked a funny moment in which Bligh has to order Christian to make love to Princess Maimitti so as not to offend the Chief.  But I didn’t like how the Chief, in general, was portrayed as a laughing moron.  It seemed very racist to my modern sensibilities.