At the Movies, With Robert Hawkes

Academy Awards 2006 One hates to pay much attention, really, and certainly not enough actually to watch the ceremonies, an activity which my friend`s son quite rightly characterizes as "like reading People magazine." After all, the Academy`s credibility as an arbiter of good taste and judgement has been deeply suspect for a long time, since even before they chose Forrest Gump over Pulp Fiction or Titanic over L.A. Confidential, as "Best Picture." As usual, this year I had not seen all the films involved in the nominations, although 3 out of 5 of the "Best Picture" nominees was a surprisingly high rate for me. On the other hand, I had seen none of the films in which I could have seen the work for which women were nominated as Best Actress. I missed Brokeback Mountain and Munich on purpose, having had disappointed reports of both of these films from two reliable sources. Besides, who wants to put more money in Steven Spielberg`s pocket? Of the other three, however, I do have an opinion: Capote: Beautifully acted, no doubt, by its principal actor, whose Oscar one cannot begrudge him, but like so many film biographies (may I eschew the ghastly neologism "biopic", which I always want to mispronounce with the stress on the "o", as though it referred to an eye disease?) a necessary prisoner of its events. People`s lives do not have the narrative structure that good storytelling requires; that structure has to be imposed, and sometimes filmmakers fall short in this department. And if the theme or thesis of this piece is that Capote used these two losers mercilessly for his own ends, and that the whole caper grew to be more about him than about them, then this idea seems insufficient to the job of motivating the whole. It just doesn`t add up to a satisfying story. So we end up with a tiresome little tale about a tiresome, whiny, self-centered and self-pitying little man. A good film, worth one look, but not a "keeper." Crash: Also not a keeper. I am not interested in a second look. A well-made piece, with the very noble intention of asking us to consider very seriously whether we can ever really rid ourselves of our tendency to judge the otherness of others, but like many another ambitious piece with a large idea backed up by an interesting quirk of narrative structure (Magnolia, Forrest Gump, The Truman Show), it simply fails, ultimately, to deliver on what it seems to promise at the outset. The mechanism of coincidence which it is at such pains to develop as its main narrative engine during most of the film falls apart at the end, as though it hadn`t really been the right way to exercise the themes of the content after all. Hats off, though, to Matt Dillon, absolutely brilliant as the racist cop. Good Night, and Good Luck: Now that`s a keeper! A movie made for grown-ups, and a model of restraint in concept and in execution. "So tasteful," opined my son, and I couldn`t agree more. No flash, no goofy self-congratulatory cinematic gestures, no pandering to prurience - just first-rate storytelling served by first-rate acting, directing, photography, editing, and a lively sense of historical period. David Strathairn, whose work I have loved since I first noticed him as the blind guy in Sneakers, is perfect as Murrow, and Frank Langella comes through again with another great performance of his late career. Why Ray Wise was not even nominated as Best Supporting Actor for his performance as Don Hollenbeck (the anchorman hounded to suicide), I just cannot imagine. His work is one of the most delicious, subtle, and persuasive bits of acting we`ve seen since Ian McKellan in Gods and Monsters. Having missed the broadcast, I have no comment on the clothing worn to the event. -- Robert Hawkes, Upper School English Teacher