Best Picture and Director 1939

[FilmFan720]

These are always interesting scenarios.

I always like to think about who fills in the missing nominations. Without Leigh, who is the fifth Best Actress nominee? I think there is a good chance it is Merle Oberon for Wuthering Heights, and I think there is a good chance she wins -- Magilla points out what is going against all the other nominees. And you would have to imagine that Wuthering Heights might benefit from a lack of Gone with the Wind and win art direction, giving it two more wins that it has.

Who takes Clark Gable's slot? Henry Fonda? Charles Laughton? That doesn't seem to shake up the race too much...

There are suddenly two Supporting Actress slots open. I have no idea who might fill those slots -- contemporary votes might go Margaret Hamilton, but were voters at the time ready to honor her? A lot of the most obvious candidates might not affect the race too much -- The Women, Dame May Whitty in The Lady Vanishes -- but if Flora Robson gets a second Wuthering Heights nomination in the category, or Claire Trevor breaks in for Stagecoach, that could certainly help their arguments.

Do the Oscars give John Ford another Oscar for Best Director, especially knowing that Grapes of Wrath was right around the corner? Or do the Oscars start their William Wyler love parade a few years early and give him an Oscar? Does Frank Capra get another director award? Does Victor Fleming replace his own nomination with a Wizard of Oz nomination, or does that fifth slot go to Leo McCarey, Edmund Goulding, or even Ernst Lubitsch? Sam Wood doesn't seem like a natural choice, but he is a strong contender to win here.

Mr. Smith probably wins screenplay without Gone With the Wind, although Goodbye Mr. Chips or Wuthering Heights certainly fit into the sort of film that was winning the award in the decade. Stagecoach might win Best Editing, but whatever takes Gone With the Wind's place (Wuthering Heights? Wizard of Oz?) could also win.

Through all of this, I feel like Wuthering Heights might feel like the most likely winner, winning Best Picture, Director, Actress, Screenplay, Art Direction, and Cinematography.

But I could also see Goodbye Mr. Chips getting Screenplay on top of it's actor nomination, and also taking Director and Picture. Robert Donat beating Clark Gable, after all, is the most notable nomination that Gone with the Wind lost.

[Big Magilla]

This is a good one.

Wuthering Heights was a compromise winner for the New York Film Critics who were deadlocked between Gone with the Wind and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. If GWTW had been ineligible there as well, Mr. Smith would still have been opposed by those who didn't like its politics so the winner might in New York might have been either one.

It's hard to say whether The Wizard of Oz would have been a player. In retrospect it would easily win with anyone who had first seen it from the mid-1940s on. Then, however, MGM considered it a failure and would probably have pushed its employees to vote for Goodbye, Mr. Chips which was a particular favorite of Louis B. Mayer who was then grooming Greer Garson for major stardom.

Ford was the most respected director in Hollywood at the time. His highly anticipated film of Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath was already in the can and ready for release in March, 1940 shortly after the Oscars were handed out in late February. He would have likely won for Stagecoach over three time winner Capra, but if Capra had only won one or two, it might well have been a closer race. Fleming, although the credited director of The Wizard of Oz, was widely known to be one of six major directors who worked on it and would have had the highly anticipated GWTW in abeyance.

I would vote for Wizard and Capra, while still voting for Donat for Best Actor, along with Mitchell and the criminally under-appreciated Hamilton in support.

Best Actress would be a tougher one. I never liked Dark Victory, preferring Bette Davis that year in The Old Maid. Had she been nominated for that instead, I may have voted for her but sans Leigh it's not much of a contest. Garson is lovely, but but hardly in Chips and a vote for Garbo in Ninotchka would clearly be a makeup award, so probably Irene Dunne in Love Affair although she really should have won for The Awful Truth two years earlier.

[Sabin]

Random thought/let's play this game again...

What would've won Best Picture if Gone with the Wind wasn't released in 1939?

Instantly, my mind races to Mr. Smith Goes to Washington which bolstered a surprisingly hefty eleven nominations to Gone with the Wind's thirteen. By comparison, Wuthering Heights was a distant 8. But Frank Capra had already won thrice for Best Director and twice for Best Picture within five years. He had already been sufficiently honored. And if Stewart couldn't best Robert Donat, that makes me wonder if Mr. Smith could go all the way.

Wuthering Heights won the New York Film Critic's Circle Award. It has accompanying nominations for Best Director, two acting noms, and writing. I haven't seen it yet. Who knows?

The Wizard of Oz does but that's largely revisionist history. And judging by its lack of nominations for directing, Margaret Hamilton, writing, cinematography, and more, it wasn't as beloved then as now.

John Ford hadn't yet bee over-rewarded. He had one win for The Informer so a John Ford movie taking Best Picture was nigh. It had won Best Director from New York. Seven nominations is quite a few. Haven't seen the movie recently, I find it terribly creaky. Maybe Ford could've won in a Fleming-less field if voters pass on giving Capra a fourth but Stagecoach just doesn't seem like a Best Picture winner to me.

It's been ages since I've seen Goodbye Mr. Chips. I don't know... Ron Howard beat Robert Altman, Peter Jackson, David Lynch, and Ridley Scott so it's possible that Wood could beat Capra, Ford, and Wyler. And the film somehow won Best Actor.

I'd welcome any thoughts on what would take Best Picture in a Gone with the Wind-less field. Are we looking at: Mr. Smith for Picture, Ford for Director, Bette Davis for Actress...

[Mister Tee]

My very late weigh-in:

1939 is indeed reflexively spoken of as the greatest year for American movies, and, certainly, many of the films on this list remain extremely famous to this day. But, for me, it’s only the peak year for that sort of impersonal, 19th-century-ish movie I see the studio system promoting during the era. There are multiple years in the 40s (1941, 1944, 1947) that for me have much higher, more inventive highs than 1939, and, in terms of films that reach me where I live, years like 1962, 1969, and much of the 70s, produced many more films for which I’d advocate over this ’39 batch.

Put another way: it was in 1939 (forget the Oscar game of eligibility year) that Renoir made Rules of the Game. Is there a film on this list that comes close to its bracing immediacy, its insight into contemporary human behavior? (The American film from 1939 I’d say comes closest – Only Angels Have Wings – was relegated to minor technical mentions) There are certainly enjoyable, even lovable films among the ten the Academy nominated. But, for me, the ongoing enshrinement of 1939, and especially this Oscar ten, as Hollywood’s peak is a wish for a return to a blander, less expressive film era.

That said, my thoughts on those ten:

Start with Dark Victory. My wife loves it; most women I know love it. It’s obviously got some high points: Davis knows how to get the snarling most out of “Prognosis Negative”. But it’s basically a soap opera about a frivolous society girl coming to grips with dying. Which is to say, a movie that today would be sneered at as best actress Oscar bait and no more.

Goodbye Mr. Chips has Robert Donat, which is a plus for any film. But the story is pretty thin and twee – watch the shy guy be drawn out of his shell!; look at how cute and doddery he gets when he’s older! More MGM Tradition of Quality – like Donat’s The Citadel, it feels 19th century despite being based on a contemporary work.

How do I say this?...I’ve never found Ninotchka one of Lubitsch’s high points. It’s OK-funny, not hilarious funny, and some of it is actually a bit lame (that group of Russian comrades – who basically reappeared two decades later in One, Two, Three -- I could mostly do without). Further, I guess I’ve never been in the group that swoons at the mention of Garbo’s name. Many people I respect think she hangs the moon; I think she’s got a fascinating persona/quality, but I don’t think that translates to mysteriously deep acting ability. All of which is to say, the mere fact that She Laughs is not enough to make this an event for me.

Love Affair is, like Lady for a Day, a 30s movie eventually remade by the same director, where I had the disadvantage of being so over-familiar with that remake prior to seeing the original that it’s almost impossible for me to render an objective opinion. Boyer/Dunne is certainly a decent enough pairing, but it doesn’t measure up to Grant/Kerr, and the film seems a little thinly populated compared to the ’57 version.

I was going to ask if Gone with the Wind has retained the beyond-legendary status it had when I was growing up; voting totals here suggest it has. During my youth, the original audience for the film was still very much center stage; it seemed if you asked anyone’s mother, their favorite ice cream was vanilla, favorite song Stardust, and favorite movie Gone with the Wind. Such high reputation is a pretty heavy burden for a film to bear – especially since, in the years I first started inhaling films (roughly 1965 on), GWTW was out of circulation. I didn’t finally see it till June of 1969. By happenstance, it was just a few weeks after I’d seen Midnight Cowboy, a movie that had completely blown me away. The juxtaposition didn’t do a whole lot for GWTW; it seemed musty and Victorian by comparison. There were things to like about it: the spectacle of the wartime sections (including of course The Burning); the solid supporting work by DeHavilland and McDaniel; the who-else-could-have-played-him? turn by Gable; and, above all, the truly special performance from Vivien Leigh – the one aspect of the film that for me achieves greatness, without which the film might have been a lesser species entirely. But the story for me wasn’t all that engaging, and, unlike BJ, I think the post-war (or post-intermission) sections drag on and on (until rescued by that nifty finale). It may be that I just saw the film at the wrong time in my taste development (I’ve seen the film a number of times subsequently, but, as we all know, you only get one chance to make a first impression). Or it may be that this is the sort of film that lots of people enjoy way more than me; I know a great many of you were near-to-wild about Titanic – a film I think of as comparable, both as achievement and as iconic to its time – and Titanic wouldn’t make my top ten or twenty of 1997.

All of which is to say, Gone with the Wind isn’t getting my vote in either category.

Stagecoach merges two of my “I like it less than most” categories: westerns and John Ford movies. (Though I do like My Darling Clementine a fair bit) To me the movie’s “OK”. The many people who view is as some magical transformation of ordinary material into cinematic art are clearly seeing something I’m just not perceiving.

I have to disagree with BJ to some degree about Of Mice and Men. It’s not that I think it’s a great film – in fact, I think Milestone only does a mid-level job mounting it. But I think as source material it’s easily one of the best pieces of work on this list. It’s yet another case where I was exposed to the work in other forms before seeing the film (including a Broadway version in the 70s, with James Earl Jones as Lennie). But I’ve always found the story immensely moving; Lennie’s utterly inadvertent mistake with Curly’s Wife, and George’s heartbreaking need to deal with it lead to an incredibly wrenching climax. Pauline Kael suggested that the Joe/Ratso relationship in Midnight Cowboy has a George/Lennie vibe to it – so maybe this film has just always moved me in much the way Cowboy did. In any case, though it’s not getting my vote, I place it higher on the list than many do.

Wuthering Heights is of course literally 19th century literature, so I hardly need to explain why I see it as falling into the remote category. For all that, I think it’s one of the better films on this list. Wyler extended his range admirably (most of his films till then, however solid, had been adaptations of theatre pieces; here he had a broader canvas), Gregg Toland provided a wonderfully ghostly look, and, while Merle Oberon is only adequate as Cathy, Olivier provides major acting chops with his brooding Heathcliff. Solid work within its genre.

But my choice for best picture comes down to the two other classics. Judging The Wizard of Oz may be more difficult than any other film evaluation I could ever attempt. It was part of my life from as far back as I can remember; in those pre-DVD/VCR days, its annual televising was an event like Christmas -- unmissable. Year by year, without even trying, I’m certain I half-committed it to memory. Trying to give it an objective eye now is like looking at a family member, or a friend dating back to grade school, pondering if you’d like them if you met them cold today.

Nonetheless…I look at the elements of the film and sure hope I would. The compelling child-everyone’s-too-busy-for set-up; the magical transport to Oz; the vivid Munchkins; the lovably vaudevillian Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion; the spooky flying monkeys; the terrifying Oz (and his unmasking as fraud); the creepy witch; all orchestrated to a bunch of terrific songs, and an emotionally satisfying ending – if we kids bought into this at too young an age, I think we displayed pretty good taste in doing so.

And then there’s Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. I first saw this my senior year in college, when I was very politically cynical (this was about a month after Nixon’s depressing landslide); I went in expecting a cloyingly upbeat piece of Americana. What I saw was, rather, a film that matched my own cynicism. Jimmy Stewart’s Jeff Smith was an idealist, but the world into which he stepped was anything but, and, for most of the running time, he faced overwhelming opposition from the crass materialists – a fight that seemed hopelessly rigged against him. (When I saw the scene of the goons stealing the Boy Rangers’ newspapers, I thought, that was an image that could have been concocted by the anti-war left against Nixon). Of course, it all came out well in the end – Capra always provided happy endings for his protagonists. But not without putting them through the stations of the cross, first. Mr. Smith ends by celebrating Jeff Smith’s view of American, but throughout he’s shown us the many barriers that exist trying to prevent his triumph. This is a patriotic movie that treats its audiences as grown-ups.

I pretty much come to a tie between Oz and Mr. Smith. So, I split the difference: choosing the childhood favorite Wizard for best film, and, under director where Oz is not competing, marking my ballot for Capra.

[rudeboy]

Of all movies which have won the best picture Oscar, Gone With the Wind is perhaps the one which its impossible to imagine not having won. Think about it, GWTW not being a best picture movie is simply unthinkable. Which is not to say its my favourite of the year. Lots of brilliant stuff in it, one of the great performances in movies at its core... but I go with Stagecoach, which in somewhere approximating a third of the length of Gone With the Wind crams in more rich characterisations, more sparkling action and more thrilling drama than any western OR action movie I've seen from before or since. Stagecoach and John Ford are my picks from a rich field.

For the record my favourite film of 1939 is Only Angels Have Wings, which I so wish was on this list.

[Okri]

This year has probably been a bit oversold as the best EVER, simply because I think the field actually does thin out a bit once you get past the all-time favorites. But any year with so many special movies (nominated and otherwise) would have to be considered a definite high point of the studio era, and many of those films deservedly made it onto the Academy's roster.

The Lady Vanishes, Midnight, Only Angels Have Wings, Young Mr. Lincoln..... all would've made my alternative line-up. Just sayin'

[The Original BJ]

This year has probably been a bit oversold as the best EVER, simply because I think the field actually does thin out a bit once you get past the all-time favorites. But any year with so many special movies (nominated and otherwise) would have to be considered a definite high point of the studio era, and many of those films deservedly made it onto the Academy's roster.

I normally pitch alternates in their year of Oscar-eligible release, but The Rules of the Game had such a wonky release history it seems more fair to cite it as another of this great year's triumphs. The film, and Renoir's masterful direction, would be stellar candidates in any year of release.

I'd also cite the supremely entertaining The Lady Vanishes, one of the high points of Hitchcock's British period, as being immensely deserving.

My least favorite nominee is probably Of Mice and Men. It's a solid enough adaptation of Steinbeck's book, but it never really becomes special as a movie. When you compare it to what John Ford (and Nunnally Johnson, and Gregg Toland) accomplished with The Grapes of Wrath a year on, the Of Mice and Men adaptation seems even more minor.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips definitely has elements I really like -- Robert Donat, especially, but also Greer Garson. And there are a number of genuinely moving moments in the film. But the inspirational teacher film has never been my favorite genre, and by the time I got around to seeing this movie, it felt a lot closer to the generic version of that narrative than I'd anticipated. I don't dislike the movie, but it didn't feel like much of a discovery for me.

Love Affair is a warm and poignant movie about two people who find a connection with one another, when life seemingly had other plans for both. Charles Boyer and especially Irene Dunne are radiant and wise as the central couple, and McCarey finds just the right note of humor and pathos to make the film appropriately bittersweet. And that last scene is almost impossible to resist. But, like Hitchcock with The Man Who Knew Too Much, McCarey would improve upon this story his second time at bat.

For much of her career, Bette Davis excelled at characters with an evil side, so it's refreshing that between the ruthlessness of Jezebel and the uber-villainy of The Letter and The Little Foxes, she had a chance to portray the terminally ill Judith Traherne in Dark Victory. Davis is very powerful in this sympathetic role, but I think the reason the movie works is because she doesn't soften the more vitriolic side of her persona either. (Her "I'll take a large order of...PROGNOSIS NEGATIVE!" is classic Bette Davis.) And so, the movie manages to be touching without wallowing in sentiment, because Davis allows her character's anger and bitterness to shine through. But, as with last year's Davis effort, the lead actress is more notable than the film that surrounds her.

When you sum it up, Ninotchka really is a strange premise for a movie. But somehow Lubitsch, his screenwriters, and the two stars find the humor and heart in the story, and craft something memorable in the process. There's so much unexpected joy in Greta Garbo's deadpan -- I think the "Must you flirt?" / "I don't have to, but I find it natural." / "Suppress it" exchange is magnificently delivered -- and the process by which Douglas allows Garbo's character to open up ("I'm so happy, I'm so happy! Nobody can be so happy without being punished!") makes for really buoyant romantic comedy. I can't think of too many movies with such cynical political undertones that are also this joyously charming, but Ninotchka finds just the right blend of sour and sweet.

But the remaining five films are the ones that leave me with a cornucopia of great choices in the Best Picture category.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is one of Frank Capra's finest hours. The film manages to be both a hugely patriotic celebration of the American spirit, as well as a gentle critique of naive faith in the American political system. It's also a wonderful romance, a terrific showcase for a slew of great character actors, and, perhaps above all, the vehicle for a grand star turn by Jimmy Stewart. Every time I see the movie, that energetic filibuster finale just grabs me, but the quieter moments always have a lingering impact as well. I particularly love the brief beat in which Smith visits the Lincoln Memorial, looking up at the deified American hero, wondering if the optimism he's had toward his country's politics is deserved. The film is a classic piece of Americana.

I've seen Stagecoach numerous times since high school, and every time has felt like a completely fresh experience. Visually, the film is incredibly impressive, from the glorious photography that captures Monument Valley's stark beauty, to the crisp, clean cutting of its action sequences. It's not difficult to see why Welles watched the film over and over again to learn the language of cinema. And the story makes for a great yarn as well -- the characters are archetypes, but they aren't cliches, and by tossing them all together in close company, the movie gets so much mileage out of the manner in which these disparate people interact. Certainly one of the peaks of John Ford's career, in the genre he excelled at best.

I think this version of Wuthering Heights makes for a beautifully tragic weepie. It's actually one of the rare classic literature adaptations from this era that doesn't just feel like a filmed book to me, probably because the plot was truncated rather than crammed into movie-length. But there's also an elegance to Wyler's direction, to the way the film has been mounted and photographed, that lets it move and breathe like an actual movie. The cast, from Olivier's brooding Heathcliff, to Fitzgerald's sensitive and shallow Isabella, to Oberon's doomed Cathy, brings the narrative to life with full-bodied energy. And I can't hear a few seconds of that score without getting a little teary-eyed, as I recall the film's heartbreaking final scene.

But for me, it ultimately comes down to the remaining two movies, possibly the two most famous films in the history of the cinema. Walk into any film memorabilia store across America, and you'll find the walls and shelves full of items for purchase themed to The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind. Of course, the utter ubiquity of these films in popular culture makes it difficult to analyze either of them very objectively, but to try...

Like most American children, I was raised on The Wizard of Oz, and saw it about a gazillion times in my youth, whether on film or on stage. While in college, I sat down to revisit the movie with my critical film student goggles on, and found that I loved it just as much as I had as a child. The film is an absolutely eye-popping production, from the intricately designed clothes of Munchkinland, to the massive sets of the Emerald City, to the sparkling gold of the Yellow Brick Road. And that score is sublime! From the moment the opening credits roll, and the first strains of "Over the Rainbow" fill the soundtrack, to Judy Garland's rendition of the most famous movie song ever, to celebrating the Wicked Witch's death, to the Scarecrow/Tin Man/Lion "If a Only Had a..." numbers, to Dorothy and her friends easing on down the road singing "We're Off to See the Wizard," the film is just one classic piece of movie music after another. And, watching the movie as an adult, I couldn't believe how a moment like Dorothy opening the farmhouse door and emerging into Technicolor could still take my breath away. What can I say? I think it's still a magical movie, one of the great screen musicals, and one of the most marvelous fantasies to emerge from Hollywood ever.

Naturally, I got to Gone With the Wind a bit later, probably about age fourteen or fifteen, when I started getting into film history, though I didn't experience the full effect of the film until I saw it on the big screen at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood. I should say that I understand why some cineastes don't respond to the film as well as its popular reputation would indicate -- the movie was assembled by committee rather than an auteur, the source material verges closer to romance novel than its Pulitzer Prize might suggest, and there are several moments that don't reflect the most racially sensitive attitudes. But...I think the film is one of the crowning jewels of the Hollywood studio era. The movie's sweep is undeniable, full of one magnificent set piece after the other -- the Twelve Oaks barbecue, Scarlett and Rhett dancing for the first time, the astounding train track sequence, Melanie's pregnancy, the burning of Atlanta, the return to Tara, Scarlett shooting the Union soldier, Ashley's return, Rhett dragging Scarlett up the stairs to do god knows what to her, the horseback deaths, and on, and on, and on. But the movie isn't just BIG. There's a tremendous visual beauty to the images, which have been clearly crafted by a director (or directors) with a keen eye for composition. And the whole thing is paced like a dream -- I can't believe a nearly four-hour movie moves along as well as this one does, buoyed along by the greatest piece of film music ever composed.

I haven't even mentioned the cast -- Gable's roguishly charming Rhett, de Havilland's deeply good Melanie, McDaniel's tough Mammy, Mitchell's twinkly-eyed patriarch. And at the center of it all is that towering performance by Vivien Leigh as the spoiled, bratty, but endlessly fascinating Scarlett O'Hara. I've always been amazed that a story as popular as Gone With the Wind contains, at its heart, such a deeply unlikable protagonist, but I think it's one of the novel and film's greatest assets. It also, in my opinion, serves as evidence against the argument that this story is simply a love letter to the antebellum South. To me, Scarlett is the personification of the Southern culture destroyed by the Civil War, and while the movie sympathizes with the complete upheaval of this character's world, it also seems very aware of the destructive nature of Scarlett's personality and the way of life she embodied. So, I think there's a political complexity to this narrative that's not so easily dismissed. Anyway, if I don't wrap up soon, this post will be longer than the movie, but needless to say, Gone With the Wind gets my vote among very strong competition in Best Picture.

Best Director is similarly close. I immediately toss out Sam Wood, simply because I don't think his sensibilities elevate his film to something truly special. Wyler is next to go -- even though I love his movie, I don't think his take on the material is singular enough to merit a prize in such a competitive field. I thought for a while about selecting Capra or Ford -- both are directors with unique voices at the top of their games with films that truly epitomize their talents. And I thought about a lot of reasons to NOT choose Victor Fleming: Gone With the Wind was made by many cooks, and the real auteur behind it is Selznick. But I cast my vote for Fleming anyway, for directing MOST of what I think is the best directed film of the bunch, for his very major contribution to The Wizard of Oz (in the same year!), and because I think that, despite revisionism, there were some impressive directors during the studio era who weren't auteurs. So I see honoring Fleming as a way to recognize those individuals who managed to create lasting works of art in an environment that mostly viewed directors as cogs in an assembly-line machine.

[Reza]

What is Midnight?

It's a delightful romantic comedy starring Don Ameche & Claudette Colbert.

Greg, I suggest you run out and watch this film.

[Precious Doll]

What is Midnight?

It's a delightful romantic comedy starring Don Ameche & Claudette Colbert.

[Greg]

What is Midnight?

[Reza]

My picks for 1939:

Best Picture
1 Gone With the Wind
2. Midnight
3. Stagecoach
4. Wuthering Heights
5. Goodbye, Mr Chips

The 6th Spot: Gunga Din

Best Director
1. Victor Fleming, Gone With the Wind
2. Mitchell Liesen, Midnight
3. John Ford, Stagecoach
4. William Wyler, Wuthering Heights
5. Sam Wood, Goodbye, Mr Chips

The 6th Spot: George Stevens, Gunga Din

[Big Magilla]

The general consensus is that 1939 was the greatest year in the history of the movies which would suggest that the Best Picture race was a wide open field. Not at all. It was Gone With the Wind's to lose. It didn't.

Over the years The Wizard of Oz has picked up steam and in subsequent polls has often come out ahead of the other MGM blockbuster so well have to see how it does in this one.

Most consipcuous by their absence among the nominees: The Women; Only Angels Have Wings and The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Among the actual nominees, the least deserving IMO is Dark Victory, an overbaked tearjerker whose best assets were Bette Davis and Geralding Fitzgerald, but whose cringe-worthy deficits included the atrocious acting of Ronadl Reagan and Humphrey Bogart with an Irish brogue that woud have gotten him laughed off most stages were it a live performance.

Love Affair benefits from Leo McCarey's stylish direction and the solid performances of Irene Dunne, Charles Boyer and Maria Ouspenskaya but pales in comparison to McCarey's 1957 remake, An Affair to Remember with Deborah Kerr, Cary Grant and Cathleen Nesbitt in those roles.

The first screen version of Of Mice and Men on the other hand remains the definitive version thanks mainly to Lon Chaney, Jr.'s towering portrayal of dim-witted Lennie.

Ninotchka, too, remains the definitive version of the material later musicalized as Silk Stockings thanks to Wilder's script, Lubitsch's direction and Garbo's deft performance.

John Ford's Stagecoach was celebrated in its day as the first adult western after a decade of formulaic shoot 'em ups in the genre and has remained an exhilarating discovery for audiences ever since.

I must have been around nine when I read James Hilton's Goodbye Mr. Chips several years before I saw the first film version which was every bit as good as the novel with one exception - the character of Mrs. Chipping (Chips) as played by Greer Garson made her more alive than she was on the written page. Robert Donat's pitch perfect performance reamins my favorite Oscar winning performance by an actor in a leading role bar none.

Wuthering Heights was the compromise winner of the New York Film Critics over Gone With the Wind and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the favorites of dueling factions. That ghostly ending notwithstanding, it is a beautifully transcribed account of the first volume of Emily Bronte's classic novel.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is one of Frank Capra's two greatest films, the other being It's a Wonderul Life. Both benefit from James Stewart at the top of his game even if it is a bit disconcerting nowadys to see the filibuster used for good.

I was fortunate to have seen both The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind in theatres before I saw them on TV or home video. Not in their original releases, of course, but in subsequent re-issues, The Wizard of Oz at 8 or 9 and Gone With the Wind at 16 or 17. Both were unforgettable experiences, Wizard obviously the more amazing, but the more ambitious Wind gets my vote.

Both Gone With the Wind, for which he was nominated and won and The Wizard of Oz were officially directed by Victor Fleming, but as we all know other directors had a hand in both. Consequently he does not get my vote which goes to Capra for Mr. Smith in a close race with Ford for Stagecoach, but all this year's Best Director nominees were deserving.