THE SOUND OF MUSIC 1965

THE SOUND OF MUSIC (DIR: ROBERT WISE) (SCR: ERNEST LEHMAN, BASED ON THE MUSICAL OF THE SAME NAME BY HOWARD LINDSAY AND RUSSEL CROUSE, BASED ON THE BOOK THE STORY OF THE TRAPP FAMILY SINGERS BY MARIA AUGUSTA TRAPP)

In 1966, for the second year in a row, the Academy decided to award a sweet, popular, musical as best picture; at a time when the country was still reeling from the assassination of president Kennedy and   was roiled by the civil rights movement, the escapism provided by both of these films resounded with both the Academy and the general public.  THE SOUND OF MUSIC is a film that tends to divide people, based on its bright, good natured tone that often sinks into sickly sweet territory.  And while I do agree that the film is almost too light hearted at times, it wins me over with it's fine Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstien score (those songs stick in your head, whether you want them to or not!), beautiful location shooting (a big improvement over the fake sets used in the previous year's winner, MY FAIR LADY), and, of course, it's sprightly, winning performance from Julie Andrews, in the role of Maria Von Trapp.
It's story began in 1949 when Maria Von Trapp published her autobiography, THE STORY OF THE TRAPP FAMILY SINGERS, which was turned into a popular German film (THE TRAPP FAMILY) in 1956. In 1959 Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse wrote a musical for the Broadway stage based on the book, with Mary Martin as Maria.  Originally, they planned to use songs the Trapp family actually sang for the score, but Martin asked Rogers and Hammerstein to write a song for her, and eventually they wound up doing the entire show.  The musical was enormously popular, and 20th. Century Fox quickly bought the rights  for a film version.  Robert Wise, who had directed WEST SIDE STORY so successfully in 1961, was slated to direct.  After watching advance footage of MARY POPPINS, he cast Andrews in the lead.  He also cast  Christopher Plummer as Captain Von Trapp,  thinking that Plummer could bring some darkness to the role to balance out Andrews's sunniness.  And, after auditioning literally dozens of children, five girls and two boys were chosen to play the Von Trapp children.  Most of the shooting was done on location in Salzberg Austria, and while it went over schedule and over budget (around eight million dollars), it would become the biggest hit film of the decade, grossing almost one hundred and sixty million dollars in the US alone; adjusted for inflation, it remains one of the top money making films of all time.  And the fact that a "singalong" version of the film is still being run at revival houses to this day shows what a lasting impact it has made.
Set in Salzberg, Austria in the 1930's, it tells the story of Maria, a young nun whose spirited ways cause he nunnery to  send her to take care of the children of Captain Von Trapp, a wealthy widower.  Although she has trouble at first, she wins the children over by teaching them how to sing.  Eventually she even warms the heart of the Captain, who ends his engagement with a Baroness (Eleanor Parker) and marries Maria.  As the Nazis come to power in Austria, the Captain, an outspoken opponent of them,  takes Maria and the children across the border into safety.

Julie Andrews

As he did with WEST SIDE STORY, director Stevens  showed that he had a real flair for opening up a Broadway show into a movie, and  nothing displays this better than the film's legendary opening shots, (taken in a helicopter), that pass over stunning, mountainous scenery for over two minutes, until the camera finds Maria, joyfully singing the title song in a field of flowers. I also enjoy the way he uses quick cuts to different locations when Maria takes the children out singing, or the way that he elegantly frames Maria and the Captain in their romantic moonlit stroll.  Stevens also makes sure to keep his simple story moving along briskly, so that the film never sags despite being almost three hours long, and he even pulls off some nice suspense scenes towards the end. (Although I wish he'd explained just how the Von Trapps managed to get from the theater to the nunnery without any of the Nazis seeing them!).
Interestingly, Andrews reportedly considered turning down the role of Maria because it was too similar to the one she played in MARY POPPINS, and in many ways those two films have become a millstone  around her neck, often limiting what other kinds of roles she could take, (she really tried to put that idea to rest in the 1981 film SOB).  Still, it's hard to imagine anyone else in the role, whether she's wonderfully singing  about "whiskers on kittens", or lovingly attending to the children and the Captain, Andrews's Maria simply radiates goodness.   If Andrews was reluctant to be in the film, Plummer has often said that he outright regretted it, but I think he does bring enough of an edge to the role, at least in the beginning, to keep the film's light tone from being overwhelming.  Plus the chemistry between him and Andrews is sweet, and he is believably brave when standing up to the Nazis.

Christopher Plummer

Speaking of that tone,  I do wish that the film had a little more darkness and conflict in it; it bothers me that the supposedly difficult Von Trapp children (who drove off their last governess in two hours!) take to Maria so quickly.  Or that the love triangle between Maria, the Captain and the Baroness is settled so easily, with the Baroness shrugging off her love for the Captain in a matter of seconds.  Also treated too lightly is the ill fated romance between eldest child Liesl (Charmain Carrof) and a young telegraph boy, with just a few encouraging words and a brief song from Maria curing Liesl's broken heart. (If only it were that simple!) Worst of all, I wish the film had made the Nazis more  genuinely scary instead of hardly mentioning them until the last forty five minutes of  the film; this is especially true of  Nazi leader Zeller (Ben Wright), who seems more like a buffoon than a real villain.  While I'm aware that this is supposed to be a feel good movie, I think a little more implied evil by the Nazis would have made the latter part of the film more exciting.  Interestingly, in the stage version of the story, the Baroness and the Captain break up mainly because of her acceptance of the Nazis, and I think that should have been left in the film to add some depth to both characters and the story.
Despite the problems I have with its sappiness,  which keeps this film low on my list of favorite musicals, I still find it irresistible and charming; hating on this film is like kicking a puppy.  But kick some people did and still do: legendary film critic Pauline Kael's scathing review of this movie  probably got her fired from her job at MCALL'S magazine.  To argue my defense of the film to its detractors, I would like to compare it to another movie: in 1982, legendary director John Huston was given a huge budget to adapt a successful Broadway show that also featured much singing and dancing from children.  The result was ANNIE, a notorious critical and financial flop, which just shows how difficult it is to do this kind of story right, and what a great job Stevens and company did.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?


1965 was not a particularly good year for movies, with THE SOUND OF MUSIC'S biggest competition coming from David Lean's DR ZHIVAGO, which I find even more uneven.  And while I take a certain perverse pleasure in citing Roman Polanski's REPULSION as one of my favorites of that year (a film the Academy wouldn't have touched with a ten foot pole!), I won't argue with the treacly delights of THE SOUND OF MUSIC.

MY FAIR LADY (1964)

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MY FAIR LADY (DIR: GEORGE CUKOR)  (SCR: ALAN JAY LERNER, BASED ON THE PLAY PYGMALION BY GEORGE BERNARD SHAW)

The Academy's choice for best picture of 1963 was a safe and easy one: an enormously popular adaptation of a Broadway musical, directed by a Hollywood veteran (George Cukor) and featuring one of the biggest stars in the world, Audrey Hepburn.  And, while MY FAIR LADY has a mostly terrific batch of songs by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe, and lovely costumes by Cecil Beaton (who won an Oscar), the film sags at two and half hours, and it often feels stage bound with it's painfully artificial sets. Compared to 1960's WEST SIDE STORY, which had dynamic dancing and beautiful location shooting, it seems stodgy and old fashioned.  Cukor's direction won him an Oscar, but I can't see why, it feels like all he tried to do is recreate the Broadway show on screen instead of making a real movie.  And Hepburn, for all her legendary loveliness and charm, was miscast and gives an uneven performance.
The film's story first began in 1914 as the play PYGMALION by Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw, which was very popular and revived numerous times.  It tells the story of Henry Higgins, a wealthy English gentleman and bachelor, who bets that he can turn a lowly flower girl, Eliza Dolittle, into a proper English lady in six months.  A film version was made in 1938, with Leslie Howard as Henry Higgins and Wendy Hiller as Eliza Dolittle (Howard co directed the film with Anthony Asquith).  Personally, I find the earlier version of the story superior, with Hiller making a far more believable English flower girl than Hepburn.  What's surprising when watching both films back to back is how little Lerner and Lowe added to the story other than the songs: the plots are nearly identical, and whole chunks of dialogue (including the famous last line) are taken verbatim from the earlier film.

MY FAIR LADY the musical first opened on Broadway in 1956, with Julie Andrews as Eliza and Rex Harrison as Henry, and it played successfully for six years.  Film producer Jack Warner saw the premiere and immediately made plans to adapt it, paying a record five and half million dollars for the rights.  Harrison was cast to repeat his role, as was Stanley Holloway as Eliza's father Alfred.  But Andrews, not yet a proven star, was replaced by Hepburn ("I knew Hepburn had never made a financial flop" explained Warner).  Cukor was tapped to direct after Warner's original choice, Vincent Minnelli, wanted too much money.  (I think this is a shame, as I imagine Minnelli, who directed GIGI and AN AMERICAN IN PARIS, would have made the film in a more lively manner than Cukor did).  The film was a very big production, with large 1912 London period sets being created while Cecil Beaton made over a thousand costumes for the huge cast, pushing the budget to over sixteen million dollars. But, buoyed by its success on Broadway and Hepburn's star power, it was an almost sure fire hit, earning well over seventy million dollars at the box office.

Audrey Hepburn

Thirty years after her last starring role, and twenty seven years after her death, Audrey Hepburn remains one of the most popular movie stars ever, with posters of her iconic, chic, "look" from BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S hanging in bars and cafes while her famed movies like CHARADE  and SABRINA are shown at revival houses and on TV constantly.  Much of the attention she garners seems to be more for the way her sleek body could easily be draped in some of the most stylish clothes of her era than for the quality of her movies or her acting ability.  And, while I enjoy most of her films, and  can appreciate the way she wears a dress, I think the only movie she made that could be considered truly great is Willam Wyler's ROMAN HOLIDAY, for which she won a best actress Oscar.  There, her immediate charm and likability was used perfectly.  One problem I have with many of her movies is that she was often paired up romantically with male stars who were literally decades older than she was (in CHARADE, for example, she was 32 and Cary Grant was 64) while this was nothing new for Hollywood, Hepburn's waiflike features and little girl voice made it all the more noticeable, and a bit creepy.  Returning to MY FAIR LADY, I've already mentioned that I think Hepburn was miscast in the film, with her poor flower girl's shrill Cockney accent that often sounds painful to listen to.  Also I find it disappointing that, although she trained to do her own singing, the vast majority of it is dubbed by Marni Nixon (who also dubbed Natalie Wood in WEST SIDE STORY and Deborah Kerr in THE KING AND I), especially because the  transition from Hepburn's natural speaking voice to her singing voice in the film is often jarring.  Still, once she loses the accent I find myself warming to her performance, even if I think that Julie Andrews would have been a better choice.   Andrews would have the last laugh though, as she wound up starring in MARY POPPINS instead of this film, and she won an Oscar for best actress for it, while Hepburn wasn't even nominated.

Rex Harrison

My favorite performance in the film is Stanley Holloway's as Eliza's ne'er do well father Stanley; he brings great energy and humor to the roll, and his two big songs ("With a little bit of Luck" and "Get me to the Church on Time") are the musical highlights of the film (and he does his own singing!).  And of course Rex Harrison, who won a best actor award, is also good, in a role that that he had literally portrayed thousands of times on Broadway.  With his beautiful voice and emphatic talk-singing style, not to mention his superior, English gentleman manner, it feels like the role was written for him, and he clearly delights in delivering Shaw's sharp, clever lines ("Yes, you squashed cabbage leaf, you disgrace to the noble architecture of these columns, you incarnate insult to the English language, I could pass you off as the Queen of Sheba!").  He's also good towards the end of the film, when he finally realizes he does have feelings for Eliza, thoughtfully singing "I've grown Accustomed to her face."  But this leads to a big problem I have with the end of the film: while I can totally believe that he would find himself missing her, I cannot for the life of me understand why she returns to him.  Higgins spends most of the story insulting and belittling her, pushing her harder and harder to learn her lessons, and then he doesn't give her a single word of praise after he wins his bet. He is a sexist, pompous, classist, egotist, and Eliza, who has a number of other options in her life, chooses to go to him of her own free will at the film's end, presumably to marry him. And the fact that the last line of the film is an outright order to her ("Where the devil are my slippers?"), shows that he intends to continue to be condescending to her; honestly, I don't think he deserves her. Interestingly, I am not the only one who's ever felt this way; in the original 1914 production of PYGMALION, Eliza defiantly does not return to Henry at the end.  Clearly George Bernard Shaw, an ardent socialist, did not want a happy ending for a snob like Henry, but, sadly, stage directors starting changing the ending almost immediately, giving audiences a more conventional happy ending.  This enraged Shaw, who, even as late as the 1938 movie, was trying to make sure that his version of the ending got made.  Unfortunately, he lost that battle, and I think that this famous story is all the weaker because of it.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Clearly, I am not a big fan of this only middlingly pleasant trifle of a movie; really, if the Academy felt that they had to reward a musical, why couldn't they go with the far more original Richard Lester film  A HARD DAY'S NIGHT?  Along with the great Beatle music in that film, its clever style still has an influence on MTV to this day.  Perhaps even better is Stanley Kubrick's cold war comedy classic DR STRANGELOVE, OR HOW I STOPPED WORRYING AND LEARNED TO LOVE THE BOMB, which, unlike MY FAIR LADY, holds up wonderfully, and features a great triple performance by Peter Sellars.

TOM JONES (1963)

TOM JONES (DIR: TONY RICHARDSON) (SCR: JOHN OSBOURNE, BASED ON THE NOVEL  THE HISTORY OF TOM JONES, A FOUNDLING, BY HENRY FIELDING)

TOM JONES at first seems like an unlikely candidate for best picture: its cast were mostly unknowns, as was its director and eighteenth century source novel (in America anyway), not to mention the fact that it is an outright comedy, a true rarity for a best picture winner.  But the film definitely caught the zeitgeist of the time; with America's infatuation with all things English just starting  (beginning with 1962's DR NO, the James Bond films were proving to be very popular in the US, meanwhile The Beatles were just starting to hit the charts here) plus the onset of the sexual revolution, (the birth control pill was first introduced in 1960) the stage was set for a saucy and sexy romp from England to become a commercial and critical smash.  But, while the film does produce a few big laughs, it's a little too light and silly to really be considered great, and its designation as the year's best movie appears far from correct to me.
The idea for the film came from  director Richardson (who also produced it), who, after years of making gritty English dramas, wanted to adapt Henry Fielding's comic novel for the screen.  After securing funding mainly though his own production company, Woodfall Films, he cast Albert Finney, then known mostly for British TV work, in the lead.  Filming was difficult, as Richardson demanded it be shot on location in various parts of England.  After assembling a rough cut, he was disappointed with the results, but he and editor Anthony Gibbs pulled out all the stops, using unusual cutting techniques (like numerous wipes, irises and freeze frames) and a jaunty harpsichord score by John Addison to brighten the film  (Addison would win an Oscar for it). Also some clever narration by Micheál Mac Liammóir ("We are all as god made us, and many of us much worse") was added. Still, Richardson expected a flop, but instead the film grew into an enormous hit on both sides of the Atlantic, bringing in around $50,000,000 world wide on a budget of around a million.
It tells the story of Tom (Finney), a baby abandoned at birth in the bed of Squire Allworthy(George Devine), who assumes him to be the offspring of one of his servants and his barber, both of whom he casts out.  He then raises Tom like he is own son.  Tom grows to be a good looking young man who enjoys drink and the company of women, but his true love is the pretty Sophie Weston (Susannah York), the daughter of Squire Weston (Hugh Griffith), but because he is a bastard, he is unable to wed her, and eventually his father is coerced into driving him out of the house.  After many adventures (some of a sexual nature), his true standing as Allworthy's nephew is revealed, and, after literally being saved from being hanged on false charges at the last possible second, he and Sophie are reunited.

Albert Finney and Susannah York

As Tom, Finney is full of charm, good looks and energy, and is well matched with York's lovely Sophie; importantly, he remains likable even when he is far from faithful to her.  Still, this is a pretty breezy roll, and I think Finney's best work lay ahead in films like SHOOT THE MOON and THE DRESSER.  The rest of the cast is just fine, except for Griffith as Sophie's father, who's constant screeching of his dialogue quickly grows tiresome (and whose drunken behavior in the film, by all accounts, was not just the result of acting).
The film has an odd style: on the one hand, the recreations of the 18th. century are shown realistically, as is the story and dialogue, but Richardson often adds surreal touches like speeding up the action or having characters suddenly directly address the camera.  He even opens the film like a silent movie, complete with title cards.  Also,  he tends  to fill his frame with people and animals in almost constant motion,  (running, fighting, rolling around).  The result is a 18th. century English period piece like no other; instead of the often staid and stentorian tone of such films it is playful and light.  It also avoids the self conscious prettiness that so many period pieces have, reminding the audience that this was a time of abundant mud and filth.

Joyce Redman in the famous "eating" scene

But there just isn't that compelling a story here, and at over two hours it goes on far too long, especially at the film's beginning, when a long deer hunt followed by romantic scenes between Tom and Sophie  bring the film to a crawl; the main plot doesn't really kick in until Tom is cast out by Squire Allworthy, which should have happened much sooner.   (Richardson apparently agreed with this assessment, assembling a director's cut in 1989 that is seven minutes shorter, and which does play a little better.)
The film's most famous scene comes when, after Tom saves a  woman in distress (Joyce Redman), the two of them go to an inn and share a seductive meal of lobster, oyster and fruit.  Redman and Finney mostly improvised this scene, and their ridiculous expressions as they chomp and slurp away provide the film's biggest laughs.  But this is the only scene in the film that I really find hilarious (although I also enjoy Liammóir's droll narration),  and too often I find the film's straining to be funny by speeding up the action or having the cast yell or perform pratfalls, tiresome.  Still, the film very much captured the tenor of its times by making the sexually liberated Tom the hero and portraying the so called guardians of morality as pompous killjoys.  So, as a time capsule precursor to the youth culture rebellion that was about to rock the 1960's, it's an interesting film, but as a movie, it's only a mild success.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?
Obviously, I am not that crazy about this film, and I think that AMERICA AMERICA,  THE HAUNTING, and especially THE GREAT ESCAPE are all better films that were released that year.  But, to be fair, TOM JONES is a fun movie, and its nice to see a rare win for a comedy.

LAWRENCE OF ARABIA(1962)

LAWRENCE OF ARABIA (DIR: DAVID LEAN) (SCR: ROBERT BOLT AND MICHEAL WILSON, BASED THE SEVEN PILLARS OF WISDOM BY T. E . LAWRENCE)


With the choice of LAWRENCE OF ARABIA the Academy gave director David Lean his second best picture winner,  (his first being 1957's BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI) and helped cement his reputation for epics.  But LAWRENCE OF ARABIA is an unusual epic in that, even though it has the prerequisite cast of thousands and enormous battle scenes, it also has a complex and often half mad main character who stands in stark contrast to the one dimensional heroes of such films as THE TEN COMMANDMENTS or SPARTACUS.  It is this unusual hero (and the great lead performance by Peter O'Toole as that hero) that keeps the film from feeling dated and stilted like so many other epics from that era.  Today it is still seen as the one of the best epics ever made, an opinion I certainly concur with.
After the huge success of BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI, director Lean and producer Sam Spiegel were looking for a follow up.  Lean had shown an interest in making a film about T. E.  Lawrence after reading Lawrence's autobiography THE SEVEN PILLARS OF WISDOM in the early 50's, but Spiegel didn't get the rights until 1960.  At first, Marlon Brando was considered for the title role, and then Albert Finney, before Lean convinced Spiegel to let him cast the then virtually unknown O'Toole, a decision that would certainly prove itself correct.  With a script by Micheal Wilson and (then uncredited) play write Robert Bolt,  Lean went to work on the mammoth production, spending two years on the preproduction alone, before shooting in Jordan, Spain and Morocco.  Although it wound up over budget, it became a smash hit, returning around $45,000,000 on a budget of 15.
The film tells the true story of Thomas Edward Lawrence, a young English military officer, who during World War I, is sent to Arabia to aid Arab prince Faisel (Alec Guinness) in his battle against the Turks.  For two years Lawrence leads successful raids against the Turkish military, most famously taking the city of Aqaba.  After a brief but brutal capture by the Turks embitters him, he later leads his men in the  slaughter of a retreating  Turkish army.  After this harsh experience, combined with his realization that the European powers have no desire to allow the Arabian people to run their own country, he leaves the Middle East entirely and becomes a common soldier.  Years later, he dies in a motorcycle crash (which opens the film).
Right from the start, it has to be said that this is one of the best looking films ever made; although all epics try to knock out the audience with their visual splendor, few succeed as impressively as this one. The incredible way that Lean cuts from Lawrence blowing out a lit match to the desert sands of Arabia is one of the most jarring and stunning edits in movie history.  More importantly,  Lean wrung not only beauty, but drama from the way he and cinematographer Freddie Young shot the pure white sands of the desert, which look not only beautiful but foreboding in the way that they almost swallow the often tiny looking people moving across them.  I love the way that Sherif Ali (Omar Sharif) first appears through a mirage in the distance, or the way that the taking of Aqaba is filmed from high above in one long panning shot of the Arab army charging the city, that ends with the camera resting on a now worthless Turkish cannon pointed the wrong way.  (Not since GONE WITH THE WIND has a single shot summarized a battle so effectively!)

The Seige of Aqaba

Although he has had a long and varied career, O'Toole will always be know for his star making performance as Lawrence, and with good reason.  The movie is almost four hours long, and he's practically in every frame, easily carrying the film; along with his smoldering good looks and piercing blue eyes, he was able to  exude an instant charisma that marked him as both a movie star and as a credible military leader in the film.  He is likable in the early scenes, where we see him clumsy and uncomfortable in the British military, and when he resolves to live as much like an Arab as possible once he's in Arabia. (I also really enjoy the almost childish way that he parades about by himself after his men give him a new white robe and dagger). And he is clearly shaken and upset when he admits that he has come to enjoy killing.  But then he begins to lose the audience's sympathy as he begins to see himself as something more than human ("They can only kill me with a golden bullet!"), and he begins to compare himself to Moses and Jesus.  Finally, after his short but brutal imprisonment, he appears to have completely snapped, and he becomes truly frightening, especially when he charges forward to slaughter the retreating Turks with a huge smile on his face, (a chilling image if there ever was one!).  O'Toole perfectly shows his character changes over the course of the film without ever overplaying it.  (When he speaks of his messianic abilities he does it in a quiet and determined voice).  And even as he falls into madness, he is still compelling.
O'Toole is well matched by the rest of the cast: Shariff is excellent as the proud Sherif, who shifts from skeptic to believer to voice of reason over the course of the film.  And if Anthony Quin's Auda Abu Tayi is perhaps too loud and broad, his lovable bandit character is clearly supposed to be over the top, and he brings energy and humor to the film, so  I don't mind at all. Alec Guinness and Claude Raines also have  small but pivotal roles, and they both acquit themselves well.

Peter O'Toole and Omar Shariff

At almost four hours, the film has no real slow spots, and is never far away from a terrific image or well acted scene; the closest thing I can find as a flaw in the film is in the role of Arthur Kennedy as American reporter Jackson Bentley.  Although he is important to the plot in that his reporting makes Lawrence famous, there is little that he brings to the film; almost everything he says to Lawrence is obvious to the audience already, and it feels that his presence in the film is nothing more than a sop to American audiences.  Still, this is a minor point.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

While other fine films like TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD and LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT came out the same year as LAWRENCE, clearly this impressive epic stands head and shoulders over the rest.   I must admit that for the third straight year I can't really argue with the Academy's choice.  That streak will end with my next entry...

WEST SIDE STORY (1961)

WEST SIDE STORY (DIR: ROBERT WISE AND JEROME ROBBINS) (SCR:  ERNEST LEHMAN, BASED ON THE MUSICAL OF THE SAME NAME BY ARTHUR LAURENTS, BASED ON ROMEO AND JULIET BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE)

The best picture win for WEST SIDE STORY would mark the fifth time that the academy awarded a musical, the first since 1958's GIGI.  But this was a musical unlike any of the other winners; a bittersweet story of doomed love mixed with a critical look at modern racism and the difficulties of urban life.  Although the film falters in some of its casting (Natalie Wood as a Puerto Rican?), it has dynamic dance scenes, terrific songs, and a moving love story; of all the musicals to win the best picture award over the years, I think its the best.
It genesis began in 1949 when writer Arthur Laurents and choreographer Jerome Robbins envisioned a musical update of Romeo and Juliet set in modern times.  Originally it was going to be about an Italian Catholic boy and a Jewish girl falling for each other, but a boom of Puerto Rican immigrants arriving in New York in 1954 caused them to change the characters to a Polish Catholic boy and a Puerto Rican girl.  With Laurents writing the book and Robbins directing, Leonard Bernstein wrote the music, and  future Broadway legend Stephen Sondheim did the lyrics.  The show opened in 1957, and, capitalizing on the popularity of "troubled youth" stories like 1955's REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE,  was an enormous hit, even if its dark subject matter and borderline profane lyrics ("when the spit hits the fan") were the cause of some controversy.  United Artists producer Walter Mirisch was a fan of the show and purchased the rights for the studio.  Robbins was originally hired to direct the musical and dance scenes, while veteran director Robert Wise was to handle the non musical parts of the film.  Trouble began quickly, as Robbins's exacting perfectionism caused the film to go over budget, and he was eventually fired after directing only four numbers. (He would still be credited with co direction of the film, for which he would eventually win a best director award with Wise).   Wise himself would also push the film over budget as he wanted to shoot as much of the film as possible on location in New York.  Despite all the difficulty, the film turned out to be a big hit, costing around $7,000,000 and bringing in around 50; it's soundtrack would also prove to be very popular.
Set in New York City, it tells the story of two rival teen gangs, the Caucasian Jets led by Riff (Russ Tamblyn) and the Puerto Rican Sharks led by Bernardo (George Chakaris), who are fighting over turf.  Meanwhile, former Jet Tony (Richard Beymer) and Bernardo's sister Maria (Wood) meet and fall in love at a dance.  When the two gangs plan a rumble, Tony goes to try and stop it, but when Bernardo kills Riff, Tony kills him.  Tony hides out with Maria, and the two of them plan to run away together, but Tony is shot and killed by one of the Sharks.

The Sharks and the Jets face off

One of the scenes Robbins directed is the terrific opening that shows the escalating tensions between the two gangs almost entirely through action without dialogue.  The use of New York locations, along with quick cutting and unusual camera angles, clearly shows that Robbins was determined to give audiences something more than a direct filming of the Broadway show.  I love the way that the macho strides of the boys almost naturally lead to dance moves, and the way that dance choreography and fight choreography seem to blend together (an idea used again during the rumble).
While I think that every musical scene in the film is a success, my personal favorite is the "America"sequence, performed on a rooftop by the Sharks and their girlfriends; along with being a great showcase for  the  lively dancing of Rita Moreno's character Anita (she won a best supporting actress award for the role),  the song plays as a clever debate between the boys and girls as to the wisdom of immigration, an unlikely subject for a Broadway song that Sondheim's clever lyrics illustrate beautifully.  Another Sondheim highlight are the hilarious lyrics to "Office Krupke", wonderfully performed by Tamblyn and the rest of the Jets. 
I've already mentioned that I consider Wood miscast as Maria, but I must admit that every time I time I see the film, her performance wins me over; she and Beymer certainly make an attractive couple, and it's hard not be charmed by the scene where the two of them act out a pretend wedding in a dress shop.  I also admire the way she played the tragic final scene, with her anger and sadness becoming almost palpable.  So, even if her Caucasian background makes her unbelievable, and her singing was dubbed by Marni Nixon (to be fair, all of the singers in the film were dubbed at some point by other people, except for Chakaris), it's hard to imagine the film without her.  As for the rest of the cast, I think they are all perfect, with Tamblyn's James Dean like tough guy Riff being a real standout (his acrobatic dancing is certainly impressive).

Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer

I'm always surprised by how dark this story is for a musical; really, the only really blameless characters in the film are Maria and Doc (Ned Glass), the drug store owner. (We like Tony, but he does kill Bernardo in anger). The cycle of violence between the gangs seems inevitable, while the police officers, usually the most moral characters in a story like this, are ineffectual, and downright racist.  And while it is clearly shown that the criminal behavior by the Jets is due in part to the poor environment of their families, nothing can excuse the way that they torment Anita towards the end of the film, hurling racial epithets at her and stopping just short of rape (apparently this was a very difficult scene for Moreno to shoot, and understandably so!).  Really, the film's only bright spot comes after Tony's death, when both the Jets and the Sharks sadly carry his body away, implying that they might finally stop their fighting.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

I think it's obvious that I love this movie, and while THE HUSTLER and JUDGEMENT AT NUREMBERG, are also great, I can't argue with the Academy on this one.

THE APARTMENT (1960)

THE APARTMENT (DIR:BILLY WILDER) (SCR:WILDER AND IAL DIAMOND)

In a distinct change of pace from the large scale bombast of the previous year's choice of BEN HUR, the Academy's pick for best picture of 1960 is a charming, low key, romantic comedy drama. It was the second best picture winner for writer-director Billy Wilder (the first was 1948's THE LOST WEEKEND), and while its subject matter is far less shocking today then it was back then, it still holds up as a bittersweet movie with wonderful performances from its entire cast.
Wilder first came up with the movie's idea while watching David Lean's 1944 film, BRIEF ENCOUNTER. At one point in that movie an unseen character allows two people to have an adulterous affair in his apartment, and Wilder was struck with the notion of telling a story from that character's point of view, "the guy who climbs into the warm bed left by two lovers."  (The theme of infidelity ran through many of Wilder's films, like THE SEVEN YEAR ITCH and AVANTI!).
After filing away that idea because the production code of the time would never allow it, Wilder pulled it out of mothballs in 1959, correctly believing that the code had finally eased enough for him to make it. Buoyed by the enormous success of SOME LIKE IT HOT, Wilder spent $400,000 on building modern, realistic office sets for the film, and eventually spent $3,000,000 on the film's budget; it would go on to make almost 15.
It tells the story of C.C. "Bud" Baxter (Jack Lemmon), a young bachelor who works at an insurance company in New York City.  To advance his career, he allows his superiors use of his apartment to engage in extra marital affairs.  Meanwhile, he pines for Fran (Shirley Maclaine), one of the elevator operators in his building.  When the company's main boss, Jeff Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), tells Bud that he knows about the apartment, Bud is worried, until Jeff himself asks to borrow the key! Eventually, Bud discovers that the woman Jeff is meeting with is Fran. Even worse, when a depressed Fran, sick of Jeff's lies about leaving his wife, tries to overdose on sleeping pills, Bud has to be the one to nurse her back to health.
Jack Lemmon first worked with Wilder in SOME LIKE IT HOT, and he gave a great comedic performance there; he would go on to work with the director seven times in all. Wilder says that he and co writer IAL Diamond wrote this film with Lemmon in mind for the lead, and it's easy to see why: this is a perfect role for Lemmon's put upon everyman persona, and he deftly juggles the comedy and the drama of the story.  His performance is full of charming physical touches, like the way he strains spaghetti with a tennis racket, dons a ridiculous "junior executive" hat, or gently tucks Fran into bed after stopping her suicide attempt. His character is always likable, and, even if what he is doing is aiding infidelity, his desire to move up the corporate ladder is understandable.  And he becomes truly heroic at the film's end, when he finally gives up his lucrative job because he is so sickened by the thought of helping Jeff lead Fran on again.

Jack Lemmon in his Junior Executive Hat

Maclaine is just as good as Lemmon; her Fran is such a sweet, sad person that we can see why Bud is so taken with her, and her chemistry with both Lemmon and MacMurray is excellent and believable.  She has many moving moments; I particularly like her wonderful speech about the pain of loving a married man.  She really shows us how much she wants to believe Jeff's lies, and how much it hurts her to discover the truth (the expression on her face when he hands her money in lieu of an actual Christmas present is heart breaking).
And as for MacMurray, he coolly and effectively plays one of the great movie scumbags!  Here is a powerful and wealthy man who sees his womanizing almost as a right of his privilege.  He can plead to Fran that he really cares for her one moment, and then dismiss her to Bud in the next ("you see a girl a couple of times a week, just for laughs, and right away they think you're gonna divorce your wife."). It's to MacMurray's credit that he does seem to find some humanity in this skunk of a man, (he does seem to have some feelings for Fran)but not enough humanity that we can't cheer at the end when Fran finally walks out on him for good.

Fred MacMurray and Jack Lemmon

According to Maclaine, the script for the film was not finished until well into the film's shooting, but what could have been a recipe for disaster worked wonderfully as it allowed Wilder and Diamond to build on the characters based on the performances of the actors, and the result is that Mclaine and Lemmon are one of the best romantic couples ever: always  good natured and kind to each other, even as they both feel taken advantage of (the moment where Lemmon admits that he too tried to commit suicide over a woman is crucial to their connection).  They are so right for each other that the film's conventional happy ending does not feel false or contrived in any way, with Maclaine's run across town becoming one of Hollywood's great romantic moments.
Wilder also put that expensive office set to good use, especially in the film's opening when Bud appears to be working in a sea of identical desks, illustrating his desire for a promotion more than words ever could.  Really, there  aren't any major flaws in this film(even the score by Charles Williams is perfect for the story); it is an expert blend of humor, sadness and romance without a bad performance or slow moment.
Overall, this is a classic, one of the best romances ever filmed, and it had an influence both direct (it was turned into a Broadway musical, PROMISES PROMISES, in 1968) and indirect (TV's terrific MAD MEN borrows a page or two). 

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

 This is a tough call, because while I obviously love this movie, another very different film was released that year that probably has had even more of an influence: Alfred Hitchcock's PYSCHO.  The difficulty of comparing these two films has me tied up in knots!  So I won't argue with the Academy's choice.

BEN HUR (1959)

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BEN HUR (DIR:WILLIAM WYLER) (SCR:KARL TUNBERG, BASED ON THE NOVEL BEN HUR: A TALE OF THE CHRIST BY LEW WALLACE)

With his victory for BEN HUR in 1959, director William Wyler had his third and final win for best picture (MRS. MINIVER in 1942 and THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES  in 1946 were the first two), and it was unlikely one for him: although he had a directoral career that stretched back to the 1920's, he had never before directed an epic.  And in terms of sheer scale, BEN HUR was certainly an epic; it was also an enormous gamble for the MGM studio, which, in the 1950's, had come upon hard times.  After seeing what success Cecil B Demille had had in 1956 with the TEN COMMANDMENTS, they decided to remake BEN HUR, which had been a big hit for them as a silent film back in 1925.  Sam Zimbalist, who had produced Quo Vadis, another epic, for the studio in 1951, was called in to produce.  It was he who chose Wyler (who had to be convinced) as director.   Charlton Heston, who of course played Moses in THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, was picked to play the lead title character.  As the film went into production, the budget for the film ballooned as some of the largest sets ever built were made in Italy and thousands of extras were hired.  But the gamble would pay off as the film would return  over seventy million dollars in domestic box office on an investment of around sixteen million.  But bigger is not always better; while the film does have some great visuals and exciting action scenes, at three and half hours it goes on far too long, and it is often heavy handed and indifferently acted.  All things considered, I prefer the original, which also has great action scenes, and which manages to tell the same story with a running time over an hour shorter than the remake.

BEN HUR, began its life as a novel (full name: BEN HUR: A TALE OF THE CHRIST) published by Lew Wallace, a Union general, in 1880; it was an enormous hit.  Wyler's film, which follows the book closely, opens in 26 AD in Jerusalem, and sees wealthy prince and merchant Judah Ben Hur (Heston) meeting with childhood friend, Messala (Stephen Boyd), who is now a major Roman military leader.  The two find that they have different feelings about the Roman occupation, which eventually leads to Ben Hur being sent to a slave galley on trumped up charges while his mother, Miriam(Martha Scott) and sister Tirza (Cathy O'Donnell) are sent to prison.  Inevitably, after years of hardship, Ben Hur escapes to make his revenge against Messala.  Meanwhile, the presence of Jesus causes a stir in both the Roman and Jewish communities.
Wyler may have worried about directing his first epic, but he certainly handled the movies spectacle scenes with skill; the sets and costumes look great,  the action scenes are exciting, and the camera sweeps across the seas of extras beautifully.  Ironically,  the kind of scenes that he was normally renowned for were the ones that caused him to falter, that is, the serious, quiet dramatic moments between a few characters.  Heston, who's  tall, manly physique made him a credible action hero, seems a bit lost when he isn't engaged in physical activity, and his constant stentorian line readings quickly grow tiresome. Furthermore, the chemistry between him and his inevitable love interest, Esther (Hya Harareet), is practically non existent.  (To be fair, Harareet's downright soporific performance does him no favors).  I find it surprising that Heston won a best actor Oscar for the role, but then BEN HUR won a record 11 Oscars (a feat only equaled by TITANIC and THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING), so he may have just been lucky enough to be carried along by the film's sweeping victory.  Sadly, the poor performances don't end with Heston and Harareet; Wyler seems so determined to copy the success of Demille's THE TEN COMMANDMENTS that he makes the same mistake that Demille did of often having his actors proclaim their dialogue instead of merely speaking it.  Really, the only memorable performance in the film is given by Hugh Griffith(who also won an award for best supporting actor) as the gambling, horse loving Shiek Ilderim; Griffith plays the only character in the film who ever appears to be having any fun, and he brings some much needed wit and energy to the story, even if his Arabic makeup is far from convincing.

Hugh Griffith (note that his makeup ends at the top of his forehead!)

To be fair, talk of performances and story are almost pointless when discussing BEN HUR because there is really only one thing that people think of when they remember the film: the chariot race.  And with good reason, it is a truly exciting sequence, one that took five weeks to shoot and that runs for around twenty minutes in the film without ever boring the audience,  playing like a mini movie within the movie, one without dialogue but plenty of action and drama.  The thunder of the horses, the crashing of the chariots, and the way that Massala whips Ben Hur the same way he beats his horses all come together wonderfully. (Heston did much of his own riding for the scene, and here his larger than life persona for once really fits with the action onscreen). Amazingly, Wyler left most of the direction of the race to his second unit director, Andrew Marton, who, working closely with veteran stunt man Yakima Canutt, created a thrilling chase that still excites decades later. The action is this scene is so good that it lead to rumors that stuntmen were actually killed during its making, which proved to be untrue.  The only problem with the race is that after it's over there's still a good forty minutes of movie to go!  And, since the end of the race also ends with the death of Massala, the most dramatic part of the story has been resolved, leaving a far less compelling story (Ben Hur discovers that his mother and sister have leprosy) in its wake.

Charleton Heston in the famous chariot race

I have always been a bit puzzled over the presence of Jesus in the film; since he never talks, often only is shown from behind, and almost never appears until the film's end, he comes across more as a deus ex machina (he saves Ben Hur's life at one point, and then cures his mother and sister's leprosy to give the film a happy ending) than an actual character.  And, quite frankly, I think Ben Hur's belief that Jesus was the messiah would have been more dramatic if he actually heard Jesus speak.  Clearly, the movie is just following Wallace's book, which also avoided Jesus for long portions, but I still feel that a pro Christian movie with Jesus in it could have used him as more than a silent character in the background.

Finally, there is one thing that should be mentioned about BEN HUR: although Karl Tunberg gets sole credit for the film's script, it was widely known that it was rewritten by Gore Vidal and Christopher Fry.  In the 1995 documentary about coded gay characters in old Hollywood movies, THE CELLULOID CLOSET, Vidal recalls that to make the first meeting of Ben Hur and Massala early in the film more dramatic, he wrote it as if the two men had been lovers as teenagers.  He also claims that he told Wyler this, who told Stephen Boyd, but not Heston, about this idea.  The conservative Heston later denied this account, but is undeniable that Wyler shoots the two men's first meeting much like the reunion of two lovers (they rush to each other excitedly down a long hall). I like to believe Vidal and think that this subtext was intentional, simply because it makes the film more interesting, and Massala's betrayal of Ben Hur more dramatic, but your opinion may vary.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

My mixed feelings about this film are clear, so it should come as no surprise that I prefer Billy Wilder's SOME LIKE IT HOT and Alfred Hitchcock's NORTH BY NORTHWEST over this uneven film.  But, judging by the chariot scene and it's overall excellent visuals, I can't say that BEN HUR was a poor choice.

GIGI (1958)

GIGI (DIR: VINCENT MINNELLI) (SCR:  ALAN JAY LERNER, BASED ON THE NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME BY COLLETTE)

The Academy's choice for best picture of 1958 is one of its most lighthearted and charming choices ever; it's a sweet trifle, a light little pretty bon bon of a movie.  It was director Vincent Minnelli's second win for best picture, the first being 1951's AN AMERICAN IN PARIS, and, like that film, it's a romantic musical set in Paris (but, unlike AN AMERICAN IN PARIS, GIGI was shot almost entirely on location there, which adds to the film greatly), and both films have a script by Alan Jay Lerner (who also wrote the music for GIGI with his writing partner Frederick Lowe). But while the earlier film showed the city's cafe society and bohemian artists of the postwar period, GIGI displays the romantic side of Paris at the turn of the century, with people concerned only with love, gossip, fancy parties and fine dining.  (This is the kind of movie where the only people ever shown working are servants!).  Unfortunately, I think both films have skimpy, weak stories that are too predictable; although they may have won the best picture awards, I personally think that some of Minnelli's other musicals (like 1944's MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS and 1951's THE BANDWAGON) hold up better with age than these two films do.  Still, GIGI is a lovely film to look at and listen to, with eye popping color and CinemaScope cinematography by Joseph Ruttenberg, excellent production and costume design by Cecil Beaton, and a mostly great score by Lerner and Lowe.

GIGI began as a novella published by French author Collette in 1944; it was first turned into a pleasant but not memorable movie  by French director Jacqueline Audry in 1949.  Then in 1951 it was adapted into a Broadway play, with Audrey Hepburn in the title role.  MGM producer Arthur Freed first proposed a movie musical version of the story to writer Lerner in 1954, who had to make some changes to the original story to pass muster with the Hayes code (In the original story, Gigi learns how to be a courtesan, in this version she learns how to be "a proper lady").  Hepburn was originally going to be cast in the title role, but she was too busy and Leslie Caron was used instead.  The film was quickly completed on a budget of around 3 million dollars; it would go on to make around 13 million.

Set in Paris in 1900 and narrated by Honoré Lachaille(Maurice Chevalier), an aging romantic, GIGI tells the story of young French schoolgirl Gigi, who lives in a small apartment with her grandmother Madame Alvarez (Hermione Gingold), and receives lessons in how to be a proper lady from her once adventurous aunt Alicia (Isabel Jeans).  Wealthy playboy Gaston Lachaille(Louis Jordan), Honoré Lacahaille's nephew, is on friendly terms with Gigi and her grandmother, and he treats Gigi like a daughter or a little sister.  But, after his latest romance goes sour, he finds himself drawn to her as she begins to enter womanhood.  Eventually, he offers to make her his mistress, which she accepts with some reluctance because she's not sure if she wants to lead that kind of life.  When Gaston also realizes that he cares too much for her to treat her that way, he proposes to her, and she agrees.

The movie's opens with  Honoré Lachaille talking directly to the camera, describing love as his profession, and then singing "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" as school girls run by.  This scene has been mocked numerous times over the years, and it's easy to see why as the then 70 years old Maurice Chevalier leers at the girls.  Thankfully, the film rights itself by moving away from him, and when it does return to him later, his pursuit of much younger women throughout the rest of the film is implied instead of shown.   Actually, Chevalier is very good in the film, in a role that could have been written for him; (for years he had typified the stereotype of the jolly singing Frenchman that is irresistible to women in films like 1931's THE SMILING LIEUTENANT), and he still had a fine singing voice.  In fact, I think he think he gets the film's best musical moment as he and Gingold reminisce on a long past dinner date and duet on the what is probably the film's most famous song, "I Remember it Well."  It's a lovely song that is both witty (she has to keep correcting his poor memory) and wistful.

Hermonie Gingold and Maurice Chevalier

Leslie Caron was 27 when she took the title role, but her even younger appearance and girlish manner make her a believable schoolgirl on the cusp of womanhood (she's usually seen in her school uniform, which helps) and she appeared to enjoy the role, playing up the flighty nature of her character as she cheats at cards, sings to a cat, sneaks sips of champagne and plays tennis in a crazy waving manner.  She is both silly and lovable.

Hermoine Gingold, Louis Jordan and Leslie Caron

On the other hand,  Louis Jordan's Gaston is not particularly likable, in fact  he often seems downright stuffy, cold and priggish. In his first scene he sings about how boring he finds all the charms of Paris, a not particularly endearing character trait! And I find him particularly mean when he shrugs off the news that his former lover, Liane d'Exelmans (Eva Gabor), just attempted suicide. With his good looks and wealth, it is assumed that he has much to offer Gigi, but I wish he were a little warmer.  It's interesting to note that writers Lerner and Lowe had just finished writing MY FAIR LADY for Broadway before working on this film, since there are many similarities between Gaston and LADY's leading male character Henry Higgins, (they even sing similar songs) and, I must say,  I find it hard to warm up to either of them!

Another problem with GIGI is that its simple story feels too protracted, with its inevitable happy ending arriving almost too late.  Even worse, the best songs are all performed in the first two thirds of the film, with Gigi's solo number "Say a Prayer for Me Tonight" not making much of an impression.  Ending the movie with a brief reprise of "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" seems like a real missed opportunity; surely Lerner and Lowe could have come up with a better closing number!

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Clearly, I have mixed feelings for GIGI, although it certainly has its charms.  But there were better films that year, such as Alfred Hitchcock's VERTIGO, Orson Welles's TOUCH OF EVIL  and THE DEFIANT ONES by Stanley Kramer.  Still, as frothy fun goes, GIGI satisfies.

THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI (1957)

THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI (DIR: DAVID LEAN) (SCR: CARL FORMAN AND MICHEAL WILSON, BASED ON THE NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME BY PIERRE BOULLE)

After the frivolous fun of AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS, the Academy took a sharp turn when it named David Lean's world war two action drama, THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI, as the best film of the year.  And with its epic sweep, big stars, long running time and excellent Cinemascope camerawork in exotic locations, it was an obvious choice, and set an epic pattern for director Lean that he would follow for his next two films: 1962's LAWRENCE OF ARABIA and 1965's DOCTOR ZHIVAGO.
The film began as a novel published by Pierre Boulle in 1952 that was based on his own experiences in the war.  It was an enormous international best seller that caught the attention of screenwriter Carl Foreman, who eventually got producer Sam Spiegel to make a deal with Columbia Pictures.  After running through a succession of possible American directors (including Howard Hawks and John Ford), the English David Lean was chosen. When Foreman and Lean clashed over the script, Micheal Wilson was brought in to finish it.   The shoot was long and arduous, but the film was a sizable hit, bringing in over 15 million dollars on a budget of around 3.
Director Lean began his film career as an editor at the Gaumont British Film Corporation in the 1930's.  In 1942 he co directed (with Noel Coward) his first feature, IN WHICH WE SERVE, a war time propaganda film.  He continued to direct highly regarded films in England, adapting Charles Dickens novels (GREAT EXPECTATIONS, 1946, OLIVER TWIST,1948) and Noel Coward plays (BLITHE SPIRIT, 1945 and BRIEF ENCOUNTER, 1945)  His first Hollywood film was 1955's charming SUMMERTIME, with Katherine Hepburn.  THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI would be his first to win best picture (LAWRENCE OF ARABIA would also win), and his first in Cinemascope.  Cinemascope was an anamorphic wide screen process first developed in 1953 that was used as a way to entice viewers away from their TV screens by providing something that could only be seen properly in a theater.  Many directors disliked the technique, because it required them to fill up much more of the frame when shooting, and it all but prevented the use of extreme closeups of actors, but Lean took to it immediately; in KWAI he displays not only beautiful scenery(it was shot mostly in the jungles of Sri Lanka), but unforgettable images like a haunting sky diving scene, or a moment when the sky fills with thousands of jungle bats.
Set in 1943, the film tells the story of two men, American soldier Shears (William Holden) and British Colonel Nicholson (Alec Guiness), who are both being held in a Japanese Jungle prison camp in Japanese occupied Thailand.  The camp leader, Colonel Saito (Sessue Hayakawa, who manages to transcend his stereotypical role and bring some dignity to it), is trying to build a supply bridge to Burma using prison labor. When Nicholson refuses to let his officers do manual labor, pointing out to Saito that it's against the Geneva Convention, Saito at first punishes him by locking him in brutal solitary confinement, but later relents and agrees to Nicholson's conditions.  Once released, Nicholson throws himself into the job of building the bridge.  Meanwhile, Shears miraculously escapes and makes his way back to British territory, only to find himself coerced into returning with three other soldiers on a mission to blow up the bridge.   Inevitably the two men find themselves at odds.

William Holden

The role of the American Shears was originally written with Humphrey Bogart in mind, but he was under contract to another studio.  William Holden had to be talked into it, and he finally agreed after netting a hefty wage and 10 percent of the profits.  Interestingly, in 1953 he won an Oscar for best actor playing a similar role in Billy Wilder's STALAG 17, so this wasn't a great stretch for him.  Still, I enjoy his brand of laid back cynicism (how cynical? In the opening scene he bribes a guard with a watch he just stole from the man he buried!), and he makes a believable (if reluctant) action hero.  Even if his scenes away from the prison camp are less compelling than the ones that are, he still has enough movie star magnetism to keep things interesting.

Alec Guinness

Alec Guinness was also reluctant to take the role of Colonel Nicholson, partly because nine years earlier he and Lean had fought while making OLIVER TWIST.  Still, he accepted and wound up winning a best actor Oscar for the role.  I consider him excellent as a complex character who's loyalty to his country comes up against what he sees as his duty.  When we first see Nicholson, he is marching his men through the jungle as they whistle a jaunty tune (the "Colonel Bogey March") in complete defiance of their situations and surroundings; we immediately see the respect the men have for him and his unfailing adherence to military order.  Although he looks a little foolish when he demands that Colonel Saito stick to the Geneva Convention, we can't help but admire him for standing up for his principles, even when that means suffering in solitary confinement (when he is first put in solitary, his men all sing "For he's a Jolly Good Fellow", a moving moment).  It is when he is released that things get complicated; he clearly sees the building of the bridge as something that transcends the war, since it will last after the war is over.  (It also allows him to satisfy his sense of British superiority by doing a better job than the Japanese were).  Clearly, Lean and his writers see a lot to admire in him, as he effectively leads his men to build an impressive bridge in a short time, even as the morality of his actions seem unclear.  The speech he gives to his men after the bridge's completion is honestly heartfelt, but, behind his veneer of classic English pride, Guinness subtly shows a  touch of madness to it as well.  It is at the film's climax, which finds he and Saito battling against Shears and his men to keep them from blowing up the bridge, that the realization of what he has done finally strikes Nicholson.  After he has caused the death of Shears, he gets a devastated look and asks, "What have I done."  Almost immediately afterwards he is shot, and his final living act is to land on the plunger that blows up the bridge.  The meaning of his last line is open for debate: while it is understandable for him to feel guilt about the death of Shears, does that also include guilt for having built the bridge?  Is his dying act of destroying the bridge intentional or inadvertent?  Lean and his screenwriters leave this open to debate, and arguments could be made for either side (which I'm sure were made in the lobby afterwards).  Although the ending is perhaps too abrupt, I still find it fascinating in its ambiguity, as it intentionally leaves open the question as to whether Nicholson is a hero or a traitor. 
Equally interesting is the contrast between the American Shears and the English Nicholson; Shears fakes injuries at the camp to avoid work, while Nicholson bravely stands up to Saito even when it means being locked in solitary.  Shears is only pretending to be an officer, while Nicholson clearly worked hard to get where he is.  Most importantly, Shears winds up doing the right thing (blowing up an enemy supply train) for the wrong reason (he is forced into it by the British military), while Nicholson does the wrong thing (aiding the enemy) for the right reason (he feels duty bound to do so).  All of this means that this is a war  film that lacks a typical noble hero, which I feel is a strong point after so many simplistic war films with one dimensional characters were made before this one (and would be made after it, too!). 
I should also mention that along with being a thoughtful film, this is also a truly exciting one, especially in the tension of the final scenes.  The moment where Shears and his men realize that the wire that connects the bombs to the bridge is visible to Nicholson is suspense worthy of Hitchcock!  And, while it does have some padding at over two and half hours, Lean usually keeps things moving nicely.


SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

This is a really tough call for me, because 1957 saw the release of another excellent war film, Stanley Kubrick's PATHS OF GLORY, and while I think THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI is a fine film, I think Kubrick's is even better.  I'm also a big fan of THE SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS and 12 ANGRY MEN.  Still Lean's film is far from a poor choice.