The Original BJ wrote:Growing up in a Greek family, the party line on Never on Sunday was that it was basically nonsense, clearly the work of an American filmmaker on vacation in exotic Greece, with Melina Mercouri providing whatever authenticity the movie had.
So, what was your family's party line on My Big Fat Greek Wedding?
Under Original, The Virgin Spring would have been a worthy alternate, though the actual set of nominees is solid overall.
The Facts of Life is the clear worst nominee, though I will say that I found it generally more tolerable than some of the dumbest comic writing nominees of this era. (I also think it's less stupid than A Touch of Class.) Put another way, I never felt like I was watching something egregiously terrible, but I also kept thinking, THAT was the punch line? I just didn't find it especially funny, or insightful.
Growing up in a Greek family, the party line on Never on Sunday was that it was basically nonsense, clearly the work of an American filmmaker on vacation in exotic Greece, with Melina Mercouri providing whatever authenticity the movie had. My reaction when I finally saw the movie was that all of this was pretty accurate -- the movie is pretty frothy stuff, a postcard portrait of Greece rather than an honest portrait of a culture as viewed by a foreigner -- but it's nonetheless pleasant, and amiably funny. I'd never vote for it, but I can understand the nomination.
The Angry Silence is a pretty well-detailed portrait of working-class life in mid-century England, with characters that feel authentic in a lived-in, gritty environment. It's engaging throughout, with moments of genuine power. But as someone who watched the movie after just having joined a union, I had some issue with the film's point of view -- unless I missed something, it seemed pretty unclear why the union rabble rouser was causing so much trouble, and some clarification about his motives could have complicated the film's politics, which come across as a fairly questionable-to-me portrait of union villainy. I also thought that the script just didn't have enough of a turn in the final act -- the violence keeps increasing, but it doesn't lead the movie in any fresh/surprising direction. Ultimately, it's a script full of compelling stuff, but it lacks the finesse of something truly memorable.
The remaining two nominees are excellent movies, and I can completely understand those who have chosen Hiroshima Mon Amour. Even seen today, the opening sequence is startling -- full of striking images complemented by lyrical, moving prose. And though cinema has depicted plenty of romantic affairs over its history, the relationship between the two protagonists here feels completely singular, specific to this place and moment in time. A line like "We'll probably die without ever seeing each other again" seems like a crazy statement on its surface -- neither character is very old, nor lacking in global mobility -- but given the level of death and destruction both characters have seen in their lives already, it feels like a brutally honest reminder of the way the world's tragedies can hang over people decades after something like a world war has ended. This is an original, powerful, and very intelligent film.
But judging from a writing standpoint, I think The Apartment is even more impressive. It's a laugh-out-loud romantic comedy, full of wonderful dialogue, two hugely winning protagonists at its center, a fully human villain, and a plot that starts with a great premise and keeps finding clever story turns until "Shut up and deal." But this is no lightweight comedy either -- it's full of Wilder's trademark bitter cynicism, and a sense of sadness that makes plot moments like Fran's suicide attempt land with a level of human despair that's rare for a film so otherwise buoyant. That Wilder and Diamond pull all of this off in a movie that feels completely of a piece tonally is a marvel. There are many opportunities to vote for Wilder in these polls -- I already took the next chance to do so by picking him in '59 as well -- and I will certainly be picking him numerous times ahead. But I think this is one of his finest achievements, and can't pass him up this time either.
This is another year when one should write much more - and in much more depth - than I can do now. I'd say that nine of these ten nominees are at least "good" - you feel there's professionalism behind then, and in some cases even much more than just that (the exception is, of course, The Facts of Life).
Over the phone, Uri has reproached me: "How can you choose between The Apartment and Hiroshima Mon Amour?" He's not wrong - these moves belong to diferent universes, really (and what sublime universes!). Still, this is a game, isn't it? So let's play it. I can understand the love - and the votes - for The Apartment. It's the kind of script which at times sounds as if it's based on a (solid) stage play - while of course it's not. This is a good thing, I guess - except that maybe the movie lacks some spontaneity. It's not Billy Wilder's most frantic comedy, intentionally so (it's actually a bit slow in some parts), but its bitter portrayal of contemporary American types is, obviously, spot-on. Still, Hiroshima Mon Amour is such an unusual, revolutionary, and I'd say even hypnotic combination of poetry and film, that I really can't not vote for it. The first, famous scene alone - with the voices of the two lovers, whose faces we don't see - is so unique, so memorable, so original even today, that I really think Duras should win here (plus, one can vote for Billy Wilder in several other years). As for the others, Never on Sunday is more enjoyable than truly subtle, and The Angry Silence is another of those Bryan Forbes scripts (and movies) with so many interesting things in it, and several accurate social observations - but kind-of unsuccessful as a whole (and politically ambiguous). But it's a not-uninteresting effort.
Adapted is clearly between Sons and Lovers and Elmer Gantry. I generally like Sons and Lovers, but I can't deny that while its leading character's relationship with his parents is quite subtle, and well-written, there's something too simple, too "light" about his relationship with the two women in his life - and that, of course, is a very important aspect of the novel the movie is based on. I haven't read Elmer Gantry, but the movie is, even today, a fascinating and effective portrayal of a certain side of America; the script succeeds in creating a memorable, complex main character, yet features several other interesting minor and so-minor characters - some deserving of a movie all for themselves. It's a screenplay with a scope, literate and ambitious, and I have voted for it.
I know Alfred Hitchcock is generally considered the major force behind his films, but if Psycho had been a writing nominee, I'd have voted for it over any of the Adapted Screenplay candidates. From the inventive narrative (dispensing of the protagonist partway through the movie still feels like a bold move) to the terrifically written dialogue scenes (especially Norman and Marion in the hotel lobby), the film is a pretty top-drawer achievement in writing as well as direction.
The actual nominees aren't such a stellar lot. I find The Sundowners to be a pretty wan movie -- there just isn't that much of a story to hold one's attention here, and I didn't feel like the episodes were scripted with enough insight or detail to make the thin plot line compelling even at the margins. It's also LONG, but without really feeling like it builds to much of anything. When it ended, I thought -- oh, it's over now?
My only experience with Inherit the Wind is this film version, so I can't evaluate how this material played in other incarnations. I do think the playwrights' intention to create an anti-McCarthyism piece has essentially allowed the material to still play as relevant -- it's clearly about issues beyond just those pertaining to the Scopes Monkey Trial, and it's reasonably articulate about them. But I agree that the film, most likely due to Kramer's influence, plays as totally one-sided -- I think the typically impressive Fredric March comes off as so obviously a rube, and the community theater-level ensemble of religious townsfolk seems straight out of a cartoon. This is the kind of movie where you WANT to feel sympathy and understanding for the side you disagree with, and that's not what we get here at all.
I'm glad I wasn't the only one underwhelmed by Tunes of Glory. I think there's definitely some solid writing within scenes -- Guinness, in particular, gets a lot of witty, pithy dialogue. But I find the overall plot somewhat wanting. As Mister Tee said, the central conflict between Guinness and Mills feels pretty familiar. But even beyond that, the event that gets Guinness in trouble isn't particularly well-integrated into the narrative -- it felt strange to me that it wasn't about anything more thematically significant -- and I didn't entirely buy either Mills's climactic decision or its effect on Guinness at the end. Of course, I'm obviously pretty far removed from the world depicted in the film (and its ideas about the Scottish military code of honor), but I can only report my personal reaction, which is that the story here didn't feel quite as tightly worked out as I'd have liked.
Happily, I do think the remaining too options are quite worthwhile, and I have no serious objection to Elmer Gantry as the winner. Placed alongside Inherit the Wind, in fact, Brooks's film comes off as far more complex in its treatment of small-town religion, with the script having a great deal of understanding for what faith means to people and why, while at the same time taking a cynical attitude toward a huckster like Elmer Gantry and the ease with which he is able to con so many. I think Gantry, Sister Sharon, and Lulu are all characters that could have easily tipped into stereotype, but the film makes all three multi-dimensional, and its script is both engagingly plotted and full of ideas that play as relevant even today.
But I don't think it's as good a movie (or screenplay) as Sons and Lovers. This is obviously rich material -- complex psychologically, heart-wrenching emotionally, and full of lived-in detail about life in a specific time and place. The film captures these elements of Lawrence in a manner that's quite impressive for this era in terms of the maturity of the content, and quite impressive for ANY era in terms of translating such a literate work of writing into something that plays visually and emotionally as exciting filmmaking. And it has scenes -- many of the Stockwell/Mary Ure dialogues, and especially his final encounter with Wendy Hiller -- which rely so heavily on the beauty of great language, it's hard for me to vote for anything else in this category.
I can’t say I’m crazy about the adapted group, and there were several solid alternatives ignored -- The Entertainer, Psycho, Our Man in Havana, and Zazie dans le Metro (with the usual disclaimer that the foreign-language film might not have been eligible that year).
Just last week, someone at another (non-film) board said that Inherit the Wind is the sort of thing you think is great when you’re a teenager but which doesn’t age very well. This corresponds to my experience exactly: I saw the Hallmark Hall of Fame production (with Melvyn Douglas and Ed Begley) when I was 13, and thrilled to its rhetoric (presumably marking me a latent liberal even in ostensibly apolitical years). The final courtroom confrontation between Drummond and Brady was especially gripping. But the last time I watched the movie, I found the whole thing thunderingly obvious – the enlightened liberal vanquishing the devout yahoos. It’s possible it was Stanley Kramer’s heavy directorial hand that made it seem so shallow – maybe, with a lighter touch, the scenes might still play decently. But I can’t endorse anything about this production.
It’s now some time since I saw The Sundowners, but 1) I wasn’t wild about it the first time and 2) every time I try to give it another go, I can’t get past 15-20 minutes. For me, it’s in the same category as Friendly Persuasion – so striving for authentic simplicity it tips over into full-on dullness.
Tunes of Glory was a film I’d sought for years, both because of this nomination (the writers having so often highlighted small gems), and because I’d heard it was one of the great performances of John Mills’ career. But when I finally got to it, I was somewhat let down on both scores. Mills is fine, but his character – an aloof commander – seems fairly routine, and the conflict between him and the more popular, ruthless Alec Guinness didn’t move me much.
Elmer Gantry is a respectable film – about a good a version of Lewis’ novel as studio-era Hollywood could have turned out, anchored by the great Lancaster performance. Gantry in particular is a fascinating character – a con man, but not without sympathy for the rubes he’s conning (to say nothing of Sister Sharon) – and very little of the film rings completely false. The Academy could have chosen worse.
But I think they could also have chosen better, as Sons and Lovers – made somewhat more independently – comes even closer to Lawrence than Gantry did to Lewis. The still-extant Production Code forced some compromise, but it’s impressive how the script and actors get the tone just right, and the characters are pretty much on the money. In this fairly ordinary group of adaptations, Sons and Lovers is the easy stand-out.
Original (where I can’t think of many omitted possibilities) leads off with The Facts of Life, another effort from the dread Frank/Panama team, who befouled the writing category over multiple decades. The best to be said for The Facts of Life is, while it had the same plot as their later A Touch of Class -- “we want to have an affair, but, goshalmighty, these comical things keep getting in our way” -- such a plot wasn’t quite as retro in 1960 as it was in 1973.
Never on Sunday offers another in the long line of shy-guys-liberated-by-extroverted-girl (I Am a Camera, Two for the Seesaw, Butterflies are Free, on and on), but the then-exotic Greek setting and, above all, Meilina Mercouri’s earth mother persona made it one of the least painful of the genre. It’s no doubt hard for many to believe the film was considered daring in its day (condemned by the Catholic Legion of Decency), since it now plays so benign (and, in fact, did by the time I saw it in the mid-60s). The movie’s major nominations are more a result of the film’s box-office success than artistic merit, but it’s nothing disgraceful.
The Angry Silence is an absorbing enough chronicle of the excommunication (called “Coventry”) a union member gets when he refuses to participate in a wildcat strike. The film comes off pretty anti-union (I imagine if Damien were around, he’d express contempt for its politics), but it doesn’t exactly flatter its management characters, either. My main problem with the film was I’d seen the similarly-plotted but highly comic I’m All Right, Jack a bit earlier, and it was a bit like watching Fail Safe after seeing Dr. Strangelove – after you’ve seen the situation explored with wild comic flourishes, a bare-bones dramatic treatment feels rather wan. Not a bad film, but nothing special.
I’m certainly tempted to cast a vote for Hiroshima Mon Amour – my favorite Resnais film, and one of the key art films of the era. The backdrop of Hiroshima -- the city then (maybe even now) most identified with mass mortality – casts a sense of loss over the whole film, a sense that is echoed in the stories of its protagonists. The film is elegantly written, and moving in a direct way, even while being structurally daring. I’m thisclose to choosing it.
But in the end, I can’t pass up The Apartment – Billy Wilder’s last top-rank achievement (though, in our backwards progression, the first time I’ve opted to vote for him). I don’t quite put the film in Wilder’s top tier (for me, that’s Double Indemnity, Sunset Boulevard and Some Like It Hot)…but it’s still a film that I greatly love, and can never seem to pass up when I run into it on TCM. It’s deeply cynical and deeply romantic, often in the same breath, full of wonderful small moments (like when MacLaine’s brother decks Lemmon, and it seems to make him serenely happy). The dialogue is full of memorable exchanges (“Don’t make yourself out to be cheap, Fran” “100 dollars? I don’t call that cheap”) and throwaways that became part of the language (“That’s the way it crumbles…cookie-wise”). And, something for which I don’t think Wilder & Diamond get enough credit: their plotting is beautiful. The use of the broken compact, the interplay of Sheldrake vs. the other office philanderers, Edie Adams’ moments, the doctor and his mistaken impression of Lemmon – all these elements are layered together perfectly, leading to a wonderful, exhilarating finale. A splendid movie, and my ultimate choice.
Original: Hiroshima Mon Amour is a no-brainer for me but I can certainly understand the love for The Apartment.
Adapted: Sons and Lovers is my easy choice here.
Omissions: Peeping Tom, Psycho & Spartacus head the English language no shows.
"I want cement covering every blade of grass in this nation! Don't we taxpayers have a voice anymore?" Peggy Gravel (Mink Stole) in John Waters' Desperate Living (1977)
The Facts of Life is a tepid Bob Hope-Lucille Ball comedy that should be nowhere near the Oscars. The Angry Silence is a labored drama about British labor unions. Never on Sunday is an infectious comedy most of the way but the script could be tighter. I would replace those nominations with The Virgin Spring, Ikiru and Conspiracy of Hearts.
Hiroshima mon Amour is of course a masterpiece but nothing this year holds a candle to The Apartment which is Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond at the top of their considerable game.
Adapted
All five nominees are strong contenders, of which The Sundowners is probably the weakest, though not one I would replace. Tunes of Glory and Oscar winner Elmer Gantry are brilliantly written and Inherit the Wind seems better with every viewing but I have to go with the haunting Sons and Lovers here.
