Best Screenplay 1973

[Kellens101]

I love Paper Moon. It's such a hilarious, entertaining and poignant film and one of Peter Bogdanivich's best films. The other two are the evocative masterpiece The Last Picture Show and his zippy screwball comedy gem What's Up, Doc? All three of those are pretty perfect and great 1970s films. I would gladly give them all at least one award each. The Last Picture Show for Ben Johnson and Cloris Leachman's heartbreakingly sensational performances, What's Up, Doc for Madeline Kahn's hilarious and obnoxious Eunice, and Paper Moon for the beautifully great and funny script.

[Mister Tee]

1973 is pretty much the off-year in the otherwise extraordinary 1971-1976 stretch, so the alternates aren’t as plentiful or as impressive. On the adapted side, I relished the dialogue in The Friends of Eddie Coyle (much of it lifted verbatim from George Higgins’ book). And I thought The Homecoming, easily Pinter’s best work, was exceedingly well mounted for the screen.

I’m pretty much with BJ on The Exorcist. I thought the film had a fair amount of punch (especially in its day: many of its now over-familiar techniques were startlingly fresh – even “Your mother sucks cocks…” assaulted audiences, unaccustomed to language like that on-screen, let alone from a young girl). But it was a hopelessly crude piece of work, and thrown together so hastily (the film famously rushed to meet its release deadline) that, as BJ says, various subplots are handled with disgraceful sloppiness. Like much of the audience in 1973, I’d read the book; that’s the only reason I understood what was going on with certain characters (notably Lee J. Cobb and Kitty Winn). Even beyond those issues, the source novel was pretty much readable trash, and the filmmakers didn’t find any way to elevate the material. The film “worked” – it terrified/sickened audiences – but it was a blunt instrument, without a trace of a writer’s elegance. Oh, and, for the record, William Peter Blatty rivals On Golden Pond’s Ernest Thompson for his level of self-regard.

I found The Paper Chase a pretty minor effort, even by standards of a lackluster year. The classroom scenes had a decent amount of showmanship, but they didn’t add up to all that much; unlike BJ, I saw Kingsfield as strictly a character, not a recognizable human being. The students-under-the-grind stuff was OK, but the central romance was dull in the extreme (not helped by the casting of two near-lifeless actors). And Hart’s final cavalier act – after the audience has been carefully shown his grade – is a moment of pure movie phoniness that by itself would disqualify it from my vote.

Serpico is a really gripping story – enough of one that it survives even the crude treatment it gets from Salt/Wexler/Lumet. Though I lived in NY at the time the events were occurring, I was too young to have followed them, and I found Serpico’s character and plight extremely interesting (I even read Peter Maas’ book after the fact). There are things about the film that work very well – most especially, showing how Serpico’s natural vivacity is crippled by the pressure he puts himself under. But the probing doesn’t go very deep; Prince of the City is clearly a far more complex view of the same issue.

I’d never heard one thing about The Last Detail while it was in production; my first exposure to it was seeing an ad for a sneak preview at the Evanston I shortly before Christmas that year. (The only reason it was eligible for the Oscars was the one-week qualifying run in LA.) Perhaps if it hadn’t been such a complete sleeper, I wouldn’t have been quite so enthusiastic. But maybe not: something about the film struck me the same way it did BJ; I felt like, for once, I was getting a look at the real navy, as opposed to the movie navy (which was being portrayed at about the same time in the crappy Cinderella Liberty). The movie was about what it was to be a lifer, and the characters – Nicholson’s in particular – felt painfully genuine. Buddusky is frequently hilarious (besides the “shore patrol” line, I’m partial to “I am giving this broad such a load of shit and she’s BUYING it”), but there’s a hint of self-awareness to him: he knows somewhere deep down that he’s furious about how little his life’s amounted to. Not all the story works…and the ending is (inevitably, if it’s going to stay real) a bit flat, so I’m not going to vote for the film. But I have much fond recollection of it.

I’m again pretty much in line with BJ in picking Paper Moon, which I think is by far the best-crafted piece in the category. It’s pretty clear-eyed for a nostalgia piece: the Depression is all around, and the characters are unsentimentally trying to survive in this difficult environment. And the relationship between Mose and Addie, while it ends happily, never tips over into treacle (even Addie’s card at the finish says “From Addie”, not “Love, Addie”). The film also has time for the Trixie Delight segment, which gives Madeline Kahn the finest role of her career, and moves the story in interesting directions. I wouldn’t say Paper Moon ranks with some other 70s winners in this category – the Godfather films, Cuckoo’s Nest and All the President’s Men are altogether more major films. But in 1973, the pungent writing of Alvin Sargent carries the day.

Over on the original side, I think several of the nominees are dismal, and I’d look high and low to find replacements. The Last of Sheila was, for me, far more brimming with plot surprises than the year’s best picture winner. Blume in Love is a bit messy, but, as usual with Mazursky, attuned to the quirks of human behavior in unexpected ways. And Sleeper was Woody Allen’s most polished comedy to that date, and certainly funnier than one of the comedies the Academy did nominate.

It wasn’t bad enough that Save the Tiger and A Touch of Class permanently besmirched the lead acting categories. Somehow, the writers – the ones we count on for a saving grace of taste – decided they needed to immortalize them, as well. Save the Tiger is probably the worse of the two, simply for how seriously it takes its heaping pile of clichés. But, as most here know, I regard the two hours I spent watching A Touch of Class a completely waste, as well. Let’s just put both films aside without further comment.

How good is a movie whose selling point is its surprise ending if you figure out that ending pretty much from the get-go? That’s been my issue with The Sting all these years. I can see where people had a pleasant time with the period décor, the bastardized Joplin score, and the actors having a high old time. But it’s not as if there are any hidden depths in the script; truly, it rests fully on its plot, and, while I can’t say I deciphered all of it (the assassin element caught me completely off-guard), I was sure from the moment the central plot was set in motion just what the ending was going to be. So, for me, the film has always seemed a mediocrity, the dullest best picture choice of the decade, and an undeserving winner in this category.

I presumed Cries and Whispers would win here, given the general tilt toward subtitled efforts. I think it’s an impressive, powerful film, but I never felt it was script-dominated. For me, it’s the overall gestalt of the film – the pacing, the look, even the fade-to-reds – that gives it its strength, more than its characters, dialogue or events. (I watched it a second time a few months back and, right now, except for the broken glass and the bedside encounters with the corpse, I can barely recall what happened in it) I’m not remotely saying it was an undeserving nominee – this overall gestalt I cited made it one of the year’s best films, and it certainly deserves this spot. But I think in the pure arena of script-writing, it rates second place.

Where Cries and Whispers proclaims its significance from start to finish, American Graffiti gives off an air of being frivolous – the fact that it’s so funny, and centered on just-out-of-high-school characters, can make it appear minor. But I think the film – the script in particular -- is a major piece of work. For openers, it’s structurally astonishing: dealing with multiple storylines that diverge and intersect at various points, yet manage to come together for a perfect climax –all of this, preserving classical unities, taking place within a roughly 12-hour period. The film manages to capture almost all elements of 50s small-town teen culture – the hood, the nerd, the “fast” girl, the brain, the prom king and queen – and show how they exist side-by-side but will inevitably drift apart as their horizons expand. The film captures – as I think no other film has done as well – both the anxiety over leaving a comfortable place for parts unknown, and the simultaneous excitement about exploring new territory (the fact that two central characters switch positions on this over the course of the evening tells us how strong the pull is in each direction). The film is, first and foremost, funny, but also infused with melancholy, with many scenes sticking in the head: Milner the car enthusiast touring the auto graveyard, knowing he’ll metaphorically end there himself one day; Curt taking advice from a teacher, who’s then called away by a student it’s clear he’s screwing; Steve and Laurie forced to dance together, and remembering why they’ve been together so long; Wolfman Jack’s “you’ve got to get out and experience life” talk with Curt. And, as I’ve noted here before, the film not only beautifully distills the post-high school moment when people grow away from some things and toward others, it relates that to the tumultuous changes American society was to experience in the years that shortly followed. The world these kids lived in as adults was vastly different from the one in which they grew up – a fact underlined by the title cards that tell us one died in Vietnam, another ended up in Canada (which in 1973 meant avoiding the draft). (By the way, that title-cards-at-the-end convention had never been seen before in a fiction film.) I think American Graffiti is one of the great original scripts of the 70s, and I’m happy to give it my vote.

[The Original BJ]

Not only do I disagree with Big Magilla and Precious Doll about The Exorcist being the best Adapted Screenplay on this list, I think it's by far the worst, and I find its victory here one of the most miserable choices ever in this category. From a craft standpoint, I think this script is a real mess -- subplots were introduced and then dropped all over the place, the main thread was stitched together in about the most ragged way possible, and the air of portentousness that hung over the movie often verged on silly. It's true that there were moments that had a chilling power to them (like the final exorcism sequence), but there were also too many that tipped into the laughable for me ("Your mother sucks cocks in hell!"). I am perfectly happy to vote to take away this Oscar.

Three of the remaining nominees I rate at about the same solid level -- not exciting enough to be movie of the year candidates, but respectable writing/acting nominees.

The Last Detail had a very amiable quality to it that made it pleasurable to watch, as its protagonists get into a series of hijinx en route to their destination that were often quite amusing. But it also had a melancholy grit to it, that makes it play in a way like the more honest version of all of those sailors on the town musicals from the '40's. And there's good dialogue throughout too, with Nicholson's "I am the motherfucking shore patrol, motherfucker!" probably the zenith. I will say that I find the plot kind of aimless, though -- the story never really kicked into high gear for me, and by the time it reached its conclusion, I felt it ended with a bit of a whimper. Given that I just voted for Robert Towne in the previous poll, I don't feel bad about passing here.

Serpico is another movie that's a bit ragged in construction, and its biggest issue is probably just the fact that it feels too long for the story it's telling. But its portrait of corruption in the NYPD is full of great detail, the dialogue feels cynical and raw ("Did you ever hear of Barnum and Bailey? I'm their lion tamer."), and it had an energy to it that was exciting even when its plot wasn't the tidiest. And the depiction of Frank Serpico is reasonably well-layered -- his actions in exposing corruption are heroic, but he can still behave like an asshole to the people in his life, as you'd imagine someone dealing with this kind of professional situation would be at times. Another respectable nominee, but still not my winner.

I think the reason so many people relate to The Paper Chase is that we've all had a teacher like Professor Kingsfield, who completely terrified us yet who we deeply admired. And I think this type of teacher-student relationship -- which we don't see all that often in the movies -- was terrifically realized here, in a film that also had a lot of thoughtful ideas about what drives people to achieve certain things in life and why. I also liked that the movie really treated its college students as grown-ups -- they weren't just the juveniles of so many college-set stories -- and so it was able to really honestly depict the ways many younger adults bond with older ones when they're first starting to have grown-up friends of their own. I don't think the movie is as compelling when John Houseman isn't around -- like the similarly-themed Whiplash, the de facto lead and his romantic narrative weren't nearly as interesting to me -- but as with many of the nominees here, it's plenty honorable work.

But none of these films contend for my vote, because my heart is deeply with Paper Moon. I think this is just a wonderful movie, chronicling the relationship between a very unlikely pair of crooks, and the familial bond they form over the course of the story. It's got a really zippy plot, a ton of laughs, and a big heart (the second appearance of the paper moon photo just melts me). And I liked the way that, even though the central relationship comprises the majority of the film, the narrative finds ways to flesh out side characters in a really rich manner -- Madeline Kahn's Trixie, for instance, is basically an entire short movie unto herself. And the film's depiction of Depression-era America is splendidly detailed, full of sadness and despair in the corners, but also a triumphant spirit of optimism buoyed along by the energy of Tatum O'Neal's spunky Addie. I find this lovely piece of Americana by far the most successful movie on this ballot, and though Bogdanovich deserves a ton of credit for the visuals, performances, and tone, Alvin Sargent's sparkling script is one of the most crucial aspects of the film's success. Best Adapted Screenplay for sure.

[Precious Doll]

Original

A no brainer for me. Cries and Whispers is head and shoulders above the competition here.

Adapted

These are all good solid nominees but I went for The Exorcist, for whilst it isn't the best film nominated it is certainly the hardest to pull off successfully.

[CalWilliam]

Thank you, Big Magilla, for your clarifications concerning foreign language films release.

[Big Magilla]

The Spirit of the Beehive wasn't released in New York until 1976 when it became eligible for NYFC and NSFC consideration. It wasn't released in L.A. until 1977 when it became eligible for Oscar consideration.

Eligibility rules for foreign film awards were/are different than the rules for other Oscar consideration. A rules change was made a few years ago to restrict films that were nominated in the foreign language category in one year from competing in regular awards the following year. That rule did not exist in earlier years when a film could be submitted for foreign film consideration one year by its country of origin and be eligible for Oscar consideration the following year or in some instances several years later when it was released in L.A. Since only a select group of Academy voters got to see foreign film submissions there wasn't usually a conflict. Those were more apt to occur when a film was released in New York one year and L.A. another as was the case with Cries and Whispers and Day for Night, both of which won New York Film Critics Awards as Best Picture of 1972 and 1973 respectively, but were not eligible for Oscar consideration until the following years. In more recent years films have been more routinely released in both New York and Los Angeles at the same time. Nowadays even if they aren't, films that won't open until the following year in Kansas City, San Francisco, Chicago or any other city outside of L.A. are eligible for that year's awards based on pre-screenings and DVD screeners more or less mitigating the confusion over eligibility.

The eligible originals this year are indeed a sorry lot. Aside from Mean Streets and The Last of Sheila, though, there weren't many alternatives. Certainly those two should have been there in place of the abysmal Save the Tiger and A Touch of Class.

I agree that the strength of Cries and Whispers lies in the acting and the direction, but without the script neither the actors nor Bergman himself would have had much to work with. I think it deserves the nomination. For the win, though, I prefer either the jaunty script for The Sting or the charming concoction that was American Graffiti. I think I'll go with The Sting in this category, though not in either Best Direction or Best Picture, both of which should have been won for William Friedkin's adaptation of William Peter Baltty's The Exorcst.

I don't think I've ever read a scarier novel than The Exorcist and Blatty's script for the film was almost as good. There really was no other choice even though I liked all of the other nominees.

[CalWilliam]

Quite easy in both categories.

It's a pity that La Nuit Américaine got the writing, directing and supporting actress citations in 1974 when it had won Best Foreign Language Film the year before, when it should have been nominated and won hands down. Anyway, as Ingrid said, "I don't quite understand that". Another omission I'd like to rescue: Víctor Erice's El espíritu de la colmena (The Spirit of the Beehive), a beautiful, mesmerizing spanish film, winner at San Sebastián Festival.
Badlands as well, because what are Save the Tiger and A Touch of Class doing there?
American Graffiti's praise puzzles me. As dull as some night parties get, so in some way it's meritorious. As a coming of age story, Breaking Away is SO much better.
Cries & Whispers is in my opinion an overpraised and unpleasant Bergman film whose screenplay is not its best aspect. It's the directing, the acting and the cinematography what makes this film unforgettable.
So I happily voted for The Sting. Not masterpiece territory, I know, but probably the best crowd pleaser ever made. Nothing down the surface? I don't care this time.

In Adapted I'll be fast. The Last Detail, Serpico and The Paper Chase are good though not specially exciting nor memorable.
Regarding The Exorcist... how shall I put this? I need someone here to explain the reason why Peter Blatty remotely deserved this award. It's a famous, competently made horror movie, but an Oscar for its script? Not in my Kingdom.
The best here is, of course, Alvin Sargent again, and for the third time. Paper Moon is a delightful, intelligent film with genuine, veritable characters that succeeds in every single scene. Madeline Kahn's monologue is beyond wonderful.

[Kellens101]

What was the best screenplay of 1973?