1947 is so boring. There’s nothing interesting about it. The nominees were just so weak. Sure, Gentleman’s Agreement was a solid Best Picture choice, but the field was so weak. Elia Kazan won Best Director for the film (talked about here) and Celeste Holm won Best Supporting Actress for it (talked about here), both of which were great decisions.
Best Actress this year was Loretta Young for The Farmer’s Daughter (talked about here), which is one of the worst Best Actress decisions of all time. Rosalind Russell was so horribly snubbed here it’s ridiculous. Awful, awful decision. And Best Supporting Actor was Edmund Gwenn for Miracle on 34th Street (talked about here), which — he played Santa Claus. End of story.
And then we have this category, which is career achievement Oscar, and one that actually works out, because the category wasn’t that strong, and the performance reads very well (as one that would win an Oscar) even though the actual performance is a bit overdone. So it’s actually not that bad.
BEST ACTOR – 1947
And the nominees were…
Ronald Colman, A Double Life
John Garfield, Body and Soul
Gregory Peck, Gentleman’s Agreement
William Powell, Life with Father
Michael Redgrave, Mourning Becomes Electra (more…)
The big day has come and gone, and The Artist is still going strong.
The Artist won the Producers Guild Award for Best Picture tonight, cementing its status as the frontrunner for Best Picture next month. I personally thought they were gonna give it to Hugo, and then it was gonna be a bit of a back and forth between the two, but apparently it’s The Artist all the way. And I’m not even a little upset.
The great thing about this is that it feels like pleasant payback for all the things the Academy has done to me over the past decade. When the backlash against this film happens (and rest assured, it will), I will be immune to it. The backlash won’t be against the film’s quality (since it’s hard to hate this film. It’s so damn likable), it’ll be against the fact that it’s going to win, much like with Slumdog Millionaire, a film that, while I loved it, come Oscar night, even I was like, “Jesus, can we just get it over with already?” It just got annoying that people we so for it so as to forget all the other nominees, and just blindly gave it everything. And it was like, “Even Sound Mixing? Really?” It was overkill. But that won’t happen with this film. Or Hugo. No matter what happens. And I love that.
The reason it won’t happen is because those films are about cinema, and they say that, “History matters.” They do it in different ways, which is why I honestly don’t care which one of them wins (and why I’d be let down if something like The Descendants won. Because that, to me, is simply just a very good film, whereas The Artist and Hugo are good films with a positive message about cinema). And why, over the next month, when someone says something negative about The Artist, I will not be affected. Because someone rejecting The Artist to me is kind of like Michelle Bachmann and the Tea Party rejecting books. Rejecting silent film to me is like saying, “I don’t need to read! Fuck basic education!” How do you take those people seriously? (more…)