In Contention

Tag: Boys Don’t Cry

  • SANTA BARBARA: Four Vanguards and a Virtuoso

    Christoph Waltz at the 25th annual Santa Barbara International Film Festival“Precious” star Gabourey Sidibe couldn’t be here last weekend for the Virtuosos presentation, which recognized her, Carey Mulligan, Saoirse Ronan, Emily Blunt and Michael Stuhlbarg, so she was in town this evening as part of the Vanguard presentation.  Stanley Tucci, meanwhile, couldn’t be here this week to accept his Vanguard prize, so he was here last week and filmed a video acceptance.

    They roll with the punches here in Santa Barbara.

    The four Vanguard award winners this year, which is the first year that saw more than one recipient, were Tucci, Christoph Waltz, Peter Sarsgaard and Vera Farmiga.  The award recognizes an actor (or actors) who has forged his/her own path, taking artistic risks and making a significant and unique contribution to film.

    It fits the quartet.  These actors has found their way to this point in their careers in baby steps, Waltz’s career actually the most extensive of the four, ironically enough, regardless of his new appeal in the states.

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  • THE LONG SHOT: Don’t look back in anger

    Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback MountainFor all the movement in the awards game this week – Jeff Bridges leap-frogging into contention, the animation race swelling to five nominees, “Precious” continuing to gather momentum – my head hasn’t really been in it this week.

    That’s partly because we’re all still making blind prognoses until four unseen juggernauts – “Nine,” “Avatar,” “The Lovely Bones,” and “Invictus” – finally deign to show their faces. And partly because I’m only looking forward to one of those titles with sincere movie-fan enthusiasm, as opposed to professional curiosity. Sometimes you just get the wholly subjective feeling that it isn’t going to be ‘your’ Oscar season – and while I’m not there yet, the fear is setting in.

    So, with no current awards developments getting me particularly enthralled or incensed, I’ve spent most of my time lately in a reflective state. With ‘best of the 2000s’ lists already coming thick and fast, and my DVD trawl through the decade’s leftovers for my own list in full swing, Oscar’s own performance over the last 10 years has been on my mind.

    As I discussed in this space a few weeks ago, it’s been a slightly schizophrenic decade of Oscar winners, one that has blurred long-held definitions of “Oscar-bait.” One does have to wonder about the identity or cultural relevance of any group that can alternately celebrate such disparate achievements as “Slumdog Millionaire,” “Gladiator” and “No Country for Old Men.” Who are these people, and what do they know?

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  • Beyond the biopic

    Halfway through watching the recently uncovered trailer for Ron Howard’s “Frost/Nixon,” I felt my stomach sinking with involuntary dread, and it took me a beat or two to figure out why.

    The problem didn’t appear to be the film itself; in fact, the relatively zippy trailer promises something somewhat tighter and wittier than I’ve been expecting from the odd (to my eyes) pairing of Ron Howard and Peter Morgan.

    No, what had me grimacing in anticipation of things to come were the glimpses we are offered of Frank Langella as Tricky Dick – a showcase that, in the space of two minutes, manages to tick so many Academy boxes that Langella could probably nab a nomination for the trailer alone.

    The studied gait, the mannered vocal cadences, the escalating, booming rage in his confrontations with Michael Sheen’s David Frost (anyone want to lay bets on the “when the president does it, it is not illegal” clip being used in the Best Actor presentation on Oscar night?) … all the elements appear to be in place for the kind of superficially impressive inhabitation of celebrity that has lately dazzled the voters on a yearly basis.

    Let it be said, I’m not dismissing Langella’s performance – he may be very good indeed. (Though now that The Guardian has pointed out the vocal similarities between Langella’s Nixon and Sean Connery, that discordant parallel will remain firmly lodged in my brain.) And after a long career with two recent near-misses at an Oscar nomination (“Good Night, and Good Luck” and the wonderful “Starting Out in the Evening”), I could hardly begrudge the man some recognition.

    But at the same time, if someone were to issue a moratorium on rewarding biopic performances for the next decade or so, I would be right on board. For the last ten years running, at least one of the four winning performances each year has been a portrayal of a real-life figure. Daniel Day-Lewis just broke a three-year biopic run in Best Actor category; over in Best Actress, a mere two of the last nine victors played fictitious characters.

    I’m not so contrary as to assert that none of them were deserving, but I don’t mind admitting that I’m a little fatigued. More than that, I’m exasperated at how easily, and consistently, impressed the Academy has been by this particular trick.

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