OUT OF AFRICA (1985)

OUT OF AFRICA (DIR: SYDNEY POLLACK) (SCR: KURT LUEDTKE, BASED ON THE MEMOIR BY ISAK DINESEN)

With OUT OF AFRICA, the Academy made a safe, predictable choice for best picture of 1985; it's a great looking, classically made dramatic romance with two big stars and a period setting.  Unfortunately, it's also far too long and often uninvolving,  despite its lovely locations.  It would appear that the Academy felt that it was time to reward well admired director Sydney Pollack for his years of work (he also won an Oscar for best director) than for the film itself.  Personally, I prefer his earlier films like 1982's TOOTSIE and 1969's THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON'T THEY?, to this slow moving movie.
Long before it was a movie, it was a memoir by Karen Blixen (under the pen name Isak Dinesen), about her adventures as a plantation owner in Kenya.  There was interest in making a film of the story for years, (most intriguingly, Orson Welles wanted to make it with Greta Garbo in the lead) but it was Frank Price, the head of Universal Pictures, who finally got the funding together and hired Pollack to direct.  Pollack assigned the script to former reporter Kurt Luedtke, who had worked with the director before on 1981's ABSENCE OF MALICE.  Initially, Pollack wanted Audrey Hepburn for the lead role of Karen, but she turned it down, so it went to Meryl Streep instead.  Streep, in her usual manner, researched the role and perfected her accent by listening to actual recordings of Blixen.  Robert Redford was hired as her love interest, Denys Finch Hatten; Redford reportedly attempted an English accent, but Pollack thought audiences would find it distracting and had him stop, even going so far as to rerecord  some of his dialogue.  The film was shot almost entirely on location in Africa, and production designer Stephen Grimes spent years recreating not only the  plantation but the surrounding town as well, even using actual furniture owned by Blixen for some scenes.  Made at a budget of around thirty million dollars, and buoyed by its romance and star power,  the movie would go on to make about eighty seven million in the US.

Robert Redford shampoos Meryl Streep

Beginning in 1913, it tells the story of Karen Blixen (Streep), a Danish woman who marries the poor but titled Baron Bror (Klaus Maria Brandauer), more out of convenience than love, and moves with him to Africa to run a plantation.  Eventually, she does start to have feelings for the Baron, but he is a womanizer, and eventually she contracts syphilis from him, requiring a long period of recovery at home.  When she returns to Africa, she finds her husband still unfaithful, and she herself begins an affair with the free spirited big game hunter Denys Hatten (Redford), whom she had befriended earlier.

It's obvious that Pollack and Luedkte's script view this story as a romantic one first, while the rest just serves as an excuse to get our two big stars together in some lovely scenery, and so no time is wasted: although they may not get together romantically until later, the two lovers  first meet sometime within the first ten minutes (amusingly, Redford is first seen hauling a big, somewhat phallic ivory tusk), and the audience just knows that it is only a matter of time before they will come together.   Personally,  I don't think this was the right way to go; the emphasis on romance leaves other aspects of the story unfulfilled.  Karen has to run the plantation by herself when her no good husband leaves, but we only hear a little about her hardships.  So little that even the accidental burning down of the plantation late in the film fails to make much of an emotional mark on the audience.  The same goes for her relations with her African workers, which are not as moving as Pollack seems to think they are, and could have been fleshed out much more.  And Brandauer has such a thankless role as Karen's husband that he only shows up every once in a while to remind the audience what a loser he is.   I think a film that  shows this woman bravely working  on the plantation alone that had  some romance on the side would have made for a stronger film.  As it is, it's mostly just a pretty romance.

To be fair, the love story here is often effective; Streep and Redford make for an interesting couple: she with her chameleon like ability to disappear into a role, complete with foreign accent and dyed hair, and he giving a classic, relaxed star turn, much like the same ones he had been giving for years.  Somehow it works when it shouldn't;  Redford has such immediate charm, and Streep such intelligence that their attraction to each other seems natural, and it makes sense that the more Karen gets used to life in Africa, the more she is drawn to a man who seems built for the land.  I like the sensual shampoo he gives her on the banks of a wild river, or the shy, boyish way that he asks if he can leave his things at her place, implicating that he wants to keep seeing her.  And I can almost forgive the film's weaknesses for the beautiful scene in which he takes her flying over the mountains of Africa, surrounded by flocks of flamingoes.  If their relationship sometimes bogs down into typical emotional language (he leaves her to go on safari because it's something he has to do,  telling her "I don't want to live someone else's idea of how to live") the love story still is the heart of the film, and works better than anything else around it.

The lovely flying scene

It should also be noted  that the filmmakers and Streep want Karen to be seen as a proto feminist: along with running the plantation, she also explodes with righteous anger when she finds her husband has changed their plantation from a cattle farm to a coffee farm without telling her, and when she realizes that her husband will not cease his philandering, she guiltlessly takes a lover of her own.  And, in the film's only truly exciting moment, she calmly shoots down a charging lioness with a single rifle shot!  (I like this scene not only for the excitement, but also for Redford's look of amazement and awe afterwards, a nice example of his growing respect and attraction for her).  While I'm not sure how historically accurate this  characterization is, it works for the story and makes the character more interesting. And that leads to one nice detail: at the end of the film, she is invited to have a drink in the men's only Muthaiga Country Club.  This really happened, and Karen Blixen remains the only woman ever to be served a drink at that club to this day!

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

It's probably pretty clear that I have a mixed reaction to this film, despite its lovely visuals; personally, I think any of the other films nominated for best picture that year (THE COLOR PURPLE, WITNESS, PRIZZI'S HONOR, KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN) would have been a better choice.  I also prefer  some films that weren't nominated, such as Terry Gilliam's crazed BRAZIL, and Woody Allen's delightful fantasy, THE PURPLE ROSE OF CAIRO.  Yes, OUT OF AFRICA is only a pleasant movie at best, and it remains one of the Academy's weaker choices.

AMADEUS(1984)

AMADEUS (DIR: MILOS FORMAN) (SCR: PETER SHAFFER, BASED ON THE PLAY OF THE SAME NAME, ALSO BY SHAFFER)

AMADEUS, was the second best picture winner for director Milos Forman (the first being 1975's ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST), and it's a intelligent, literate  and wildly entertaining film, sparked by great performances and gorgeous period recreations and filled with beautiful music.  Despite some moments of crude humor, it is a classy, high brow film all the way, and although it has its detractors, and its historical accuracy is certainly questionable, it seemed an obvious prestige film for the Academy to choose.  And, speaking for myself,  I think it stands as one of their best choices.

Before it was a movie, it was a play; written by English playwright Peter Shaffer, (and based loosely on an 1830 play by Alexander Pushkin called MOZART AND SALIERI) it premiered in London in 1979  and eventually made its made to Broadway in 1980.  There, it was seen by director Forman, who immediately called producer Saul Zaentz (with whom he had also worked on CUKOO'S NEST) about making a film out of it.  Zaentz agreed, and Forman went to work on the script with Shaffer, turning an often surreal play into a far more realistic film, and being sure to add, as Forman put it, "more Mozart and more music".  While many high profile actors were interested in playing the two rival composers Mozart and Salieri, Forman wanted lesser known actors.  While auditioning for a smaller role, F Murray Abraham helped test out possible Mozarts by reading Salieri's lines to them; he did such a good job that Forman wound up giving him the part.  And, after testing such performers as Mel Gibson, and Tim Curry for the part of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Forman went with American actor Tom Hulce, who at that point would probably be best known for his sizable role in 1978's ANIMAL HOUSE.  Notable conductor Neville Marriner was hired to conduct the score, demanding that a not a note of the original music be changed.  The film was shot almost entirely in Czechoslovakia, mostly in the city of Prague, which still had much of the 18th. century architecture needed for the film.  (Ironically,  Forman was born in Czechoslovakia and had fled the Communist government years earlier).  Amazingly, the debut of Mozart's opera Don Giovanni was shot in the Tyl Theater, where Mozart himself had conducted its premiere two centuries earlier. Forman had his longtime cinematographer Miroslav Ondricek use only natural lighting for the entire film, including lighting the Tyl Theater with hundreds of candles.  The effect is marvelous, giving the film a look that is both beautiful and realistic.  Despite shooting in a country that was still under Communist rule (apparently some of the extras were secret police!), the making of the film went with any significant problems, and it came in at a budget around eighteen million dollars.  It would go on to make around fifty two million.

Tom Hulce

Its story begins in 1823 when elderly former court composer Antonio Salieri (Abraham) attempts suicide while begging forgiveness for killing Amadeus Mozart (Hulce)years earlier.  Later, in an asylum, Salieri tells a young priest(Richard Frank) the story of how as a boy he longed to be a composer and idolized the famed, even younger composer Mozart.  Years later Salieri has become the court composer to Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones) , and he is excited to meet Mozart for the first time; but upon meeting him, he finds Mozart to be a "giggling dirty minded creature".  And after he discovers that Mozart has seduced one of Salieri's female students, Salieri dedicates his life to destroying Mozart's career.  All the while, he loves Mozart's music and realizes that the young composer's talent was superior to his own.  Eventually, he secretly engages the financially bereft Mozart to write his own requiem.

The first impression I always have when viewing this film is just how great looking it is: each costume, every set and location, even the enticing food that Salieri loves is gorgeous to look at in its own way, and this is especially true of the wonderful recreations of the operas of the day (the costumes used were based on sketches for the actual shows).  And, it goes without saying, there is lovely music nonstop (and I'm not what you would call a big classical music fan).  But this isn't just a movie that is pretty to look at; at its core stands,  for me, one of the most fascinating characters in movie history.  Antonio Salieri is a man who thanks God for his musical talent, but then curses God for giving even more talent to Mozart.  "Why would God choose an obscene child to be his instrument?" he asks, knowing that there can be no reasonable answer.  The cruel irony for him is that only he and Mozart himself realize just how great a composer Mozart is; while others dismiss Mozart, it is Salieri who sees his undeniable talent and realizes that his own music will be forgotten while Mozart's will endure (a cruel truth he lives long enough to see happen).  So, he both works to destroy Mozart's career and adores every aspect of it, and he purposely drives Mozart to an early grave and then laments at all the wonderful music that he has stolen from the world, eventually driving himself to suicidal madness, sowing the seeds for his own destruction.  The movie also gets into other aspects of the nature of art and artist that endure to this day: Mozart often faces censorship, and has to defend his work more than once before priggish fools, something that the Communist fleeing  Forman could identify with I'm sure.  The question of art versus commerce is also raised, with Mozart's works, despite their brilliance, never finding a popular audience is his lifetime, (they are challenging and ahead of their time) and he is eventually forced to write THE MAGIC FLUTE, even though its comic opera story is beneath him.   And has there ever been a better cinematic display of artistic creation than the scene in which the ailing Mozart transcribes his own requiem to Salieri, with each piece of music played over the soundtrack as its written?  It's a marvelous bit of filmmaking.

The casting of Tom Hulce as Mozart seemed controversial at the time; after all, an American actor to portray the Salzburg born composer?  But Hulce is winning in the role, perhaps because his character is supposed to be brash and vulgar, and perhaps it takes an American in a  European country to play that so well!  Forman clearly tries to sell Mozart to modern audiences by making him out to be a rock star of his era (the pink wig he fancies in one scene looks almost like a punk rock hairdo, and his purple outfit at one point resembles that of rock star Prince), and certainly his drinking, his arrogance and his crassness fit that nicely, along with his untimely demise; but Hulce is also excellent as Mozart the passionate artist.  I love the scene in which he convinces the Emperor to allow him to make an opera of the story of Figaro despite the fact that the story has been banned.  Hulce is so determined, so driven to describe his ideas that his enthusiasm is infectious and inevitably wins the Emperor over.  Although I do think that Hulce overacts in some of the film's later scenes as he spirals into drunken madness (I'm really not a fan of the scene in which he drunkenly thumbs his nose at his father's picture), he still holds his part of the film well, and manages to be sympathetic while believably annoying the hell out of Salieri.

F Murray Abraham

F Murray Abraham was an unknown actor who seemed to come from nowhere, give a brilliant, Oscar winning  performance, and then sadly fade back into obscurity again.  But for this one film, he is great, wonderfully delivering dramatic monologues on his hated of Mozart and love of his music directly into the camera with joy and energy; even though his character is an old man in a wheelchair for much of the film, we still feel his drive and determination about events that happened decades earlier.  (I should also mention that the perfect old age makeup he wears was designed by the legendary makeup artist Dick Smith and that it adds to the performance enormously).  

Along with the two leads, the film is filled with excellent performances, and I especially love Jeffrey Jones as the tin eared Emperor Joseph II, who's word is law even though he's a fool; Jones plays every blank expression and ignorant utterance for maximum comedic effect, and he's a delight.  Also very good are Elizabeth Berridge as Mozart's long suffering wife Constanze and Roy Dotrice as Mozart's formidable father Leopold.  Yes, this is an excellent film that is both visually stunning and thought provoking.  And while some have criticized its historical accuracy, I personally have no problem with a story based on real people from centuries ago taking a few dramatic liberties.  Really, it's what story tellers like Forman and Shaffer have been doing for years.  

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

It's clear that I love this movie, and while 1984 also gave us Roland Joffe's excellent THE KILLING FIELDS, I still think that AMADEUS stands head and shoulders above the rest.

TERMS OF ENDEARMENT(1983)

TERMS OF ENDEARMENT (DIR: JAMES L BROOKS) (SCR: BROOKS, BASED ON THE NOVEL OF THE SAME BY LARRY MCMURTRY)

The best picture winner of 1983 was a triumph for writer, director and producer  James L Brooks (who also won Oscars for his direction and script), made even more impressive by the fact that he had never directed a film before.  It's a moving family drama, filled with warmth and humor, and even if it lapses into some maudlin territory towards the end, the terrific performances still make it a winning film.

Brooks first began his career working in television in the mid sixties, eventually going on to produce hit shows like THE MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW and TAXI.  His first foray onto the big screen was as writer and producer of 1979's well received comedy  STARTING OVER.  For his directoral  debut he decided to adapt Larry McMurtry's 1975 novel, TERMS OF ENDEARMENT.  He bought the rights from movie actress Jennifer Jones, who wanted to play the important part of Aurora Greenway, but  Brooks talked her out of it.  He spent two years on the script while looking for another Aurora; Anne Bancroft and Louise Fletcher were both considered, but finally the role went to Brooks's first choice, Shirley MacLaine.  He also added the character of retired astronaut Garret Breedlove as Aurora's love interest, with Burt Reynolds in mind, Brooks having worked with Reynolds before on STARTING OVER.  Reynolds loved the  part, but he was already committed to making STROKER ACE (talk about going from the sublime to the ridiculous!), and Jack Nicholson was picked instead.  Debra Winger, hot off the hit AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN, was chosen to play Aurora's daughter Emma, and fine actors Jeff Daniels and John Lithgow were also added to the cast.  The film was shot on several different American locations, and while there was some reported tension between MacLaine and Winger, the shooting was not difficult, and the film was finished for around eight million dollars; it would go on to make over a hundred and eight million. 

The film is about the decades long relationship between the widow Aurora Breedlove (Shirley McClaine)and her daughter Emma(Debra Winger), starting with Emma's wedding day.  Over the years, they both have trouble with the men in their lives and stick by each other.  When Emma is stricken by cancer, Aurora moves to hold her family together.

Shirley McClaine & Debra Winger

When shooting this film, Brooks demanded that it be shot entirely on the various locations that the story is set in and not on Hollywood sets;  this is important to its sense of realism, like when Emma goes to visit New York City for the first time, we can understand her feeling of awe, because we've already seen the kind of places that she has lived all her life. That sense of realism pervades the entire film, which cinematographer Andrzej Bartkowiak shoots with naturalistic lighting and no fancy editing or camera set ups. This is exactly the right style for  the film's story, which is also completely believable; the characters all feel like real people, real decent, flawed people,  living their lives in an ordinary way.

Working on the MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW (which was considered groundbreaking for having a female lead that was single, both a rarity in TV at the time) seems to have given Brooks a real affinity for creating likable female characters.  And he couldn't have done better than mama Aurora and daughter Emma, with McClaine and Winger both giving marvelous performances (both were nominated for the best actress award, with McClaine winning).  While certainly neither character is  perfect, they both are likable, funny and relatable; both actresses get big dramatic moments that they deliver wonderfully, and add nice, small eccentric touches to their performances (Winger gets stoned and dances in front of a mirror wearing her bridal veil on the night before her wedding, McClaine tips over while leaning out the window to spy on her neighbor). Most importantly, they share excellent chemistry, even when they're just talking on the phone.  Their bond seems so strong that it is both moving and appropriate that the last thing Emma does before dying is look at Aurora one last time.

After a couple of brief flashbacks, the movie opens with Aurora sternly warning Emma not to marry Flap Horton (Jeff Daniels, who is very good), a college professor.  Aurora even goes so far as to boycott the wedding ceremony (although, in true form, she constantly calls Emma the next day).  And while it would appear that the marital trouble that soon occurs would prove her right, it's to the film's credit that Flap is no villain: he truly does seem to love Emma at first, and he does the right thing when she falls ill.  And while he philanders with at least one adoring student, Emma herself has an affair with likable married local banker Sam Burns(John Lithgow), who, again to the film's credit, is portrayed as a perfectly good man who strays from his wife out of sexual frustration.
As Emma's marriage deteriorates, Aurora finds herself slowly being drawn to her next door neighbor, former Astronaut Garrett Breedlove (Jack Nicholson).  Now Brooks may not have written the role for Nicholson, but, as usual, Nicholson made it his own, giving the film an energetic shot in the arm and some very funny moments whenever he's on screen (he won a best supporting actor award for the role).  And, can any other actor go from lecherous to charming in a heartbeat the way he often does here?  At first glance, he and Aurora would seem like an odd pairing; her the proper lady, him the leering boozy womanizer, and early in the film, when she seems him drunkenly flirt with two younger women, she seems repulsed.  But she can't stop thinking about him, and although she has several adoring admirers (one of whom is humorously played by Danny DeVito), they lack the animal magnetism of Garrett.  And so, she decides to accept his invitation to a lunch date, even if she's late by few years (Nicholson's reaction to this is classic!).  The date is both a disaster and the film's comic highlight, as McClaine gets wind blown while sitting in Garrett's top down sports car, has Garrett inform her that she needs to get drunk, and then has to sit in his car as he speeds down the beach, sitting on top of the car and steering it with his feet!  And yet, despite all of this, later, on her fiftieth birthday (which may actually be her fifty second) Aurora invites Garrett over to her house, and so begins a most unlikely, but eventually understandable relationship. It's great to see a loving, sexual coupling in a movie  between two people who are not young or physically perfect, and I love how giddy Aurora gets talking about it with  Emma.  Along with his humorous over the top antics, Nicholson also gets to show moments of tenderness, especially when, in the film's most romantic moment, he unexpectedly arrives to provide moral support to Aurora as she cares for the cancer ridden Emma. ("Who would have expected you to be a nice guy?", says Aurora, seeing what she always sensed in him.).

Jack Nicholson

There is some debate to the film's final third, when Emma slowly dies of cancer, with some people dismissing it as an obvious, melodramatic development that sinks the film into TV movie disease of the week territory.  Personally, I don't think the cancer is necessary to a story that already has plenty of drama, but this movie is  too well made and well acted to be dismissed so lightly, especially when the cancer is just one part of the story.  And Brooks shows enough restraint to keep the film from sinking into heavy handedness. For example, he actually allows Winger to truly look sick, instead of flooding her with heavenly lighting and making her look beautiful like director Arthur Hiller so infamously  did to Ali Mcgraw in 1970's LOVE STORY.  He also mostly avoids over the kind of sappy, over the top musical cues that so often drown stories like this in sentiment, even during the powerful scene in which the dying Emma reaches out to her eldest son Tommy(Huckleberry Fox).  And he never allows his sense of  humor to disappear, using it to temper the darker moments, as when a doctor tells Aurora "I tell people to hope for the best and expect the worst" and she responds "And they let you get away with that?".  Most importantly, Emma's illness allows Brooks to make an important point about how friends and family can come together in a crisis and forget their differences, as the actions of both Flap and Garrett show. Unfortunately, this idea is one that proved so influential that it has become a timeworn cliche in movies about families, like 1998's STEPMOM or 2004's FINDING NEVERLAND, (and who knows how many TV movies on the LIFETIME network), so, through no fault of its own, TERMS OF ENDEARMENT has become dated over the years.  Yet I still feel that it a great movie, worth watching just to see two female stars at the top of their game (a rare commodity in modern Hollywood!).

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Just as with 1982's GANDHI, this is another tough call for me, because while I do love TERMS OF ENDEARMENT, I think that another, better film was released that year: Philip Kaufman's outstanding THE RIGHT STUFF, one of the few patriotic movies that I really admire.  But TERMS OF ENDEARMENT is still a fine choice.

GANDHI (1982)

GANDHI (DIR:RICHARD ATTENBOROUGH) (SCR: JOHN BRILEY)

In awarding GANDHI best picture, the Academy made an obvious choice:  here was an epic biopic with noble intentions about one of the world's most revered historical figures that was a labor of love for director Richard Attenborough, and that featured an impressive performance from a virtually unknown actor in the lead.   Its grand scale is reminiscent of 1962's Best Picture winner LAWRENCE OF ARABIA, and it rails against injustices like other Best Picture winners such as  1935's MUTINY ON THE BOUNTY and 1937's THE LIFE OF EMILE ZOLA.  (And also like those two films, the injustices that it rails against are ones that occurred decades before the film was made in other countries, making them safe and noncontroversial choices).  Overall,  I think Attenborough's reverence for his subject occasionally sinks the film into hagiographic territory, but I it's still think it's a  terrific achievement.

The film had been a passion project for director Attenborough since he read Louis Fisher's biography of Mohandas K Gandhi in 1962.  Over the next eighteen years the film bounced from one stage of production to another, with David Lean at one point slated to direct Alec Guiness in the lead role (an intriguing possibility!).  Finally, in 1980 the funding for the film came through, with a combination of both Western and Indian production companies putting up the money, along with Attenborough selling off his share of the long running British play, THE MOUSE TRAP to help raise funds.  For the lead role, little known British TV actor Ben Kingsley was cast, while better known actors like Candice Bergen and John Geilgud were given supporting roles to beef up the film's star power.  Shot almost entirely on location in India, and utilizing literally hundreds of thousands of extras, it's final budget came out to around twenty two million dollars; it would make around fifty seven in the US alone.

The film's story begins in 1948, when the elderly Gandhi (Kingsley) is assassinated.  It then flashes back to 1893, when the 24 year old Gandhi, living in South Africa, is thrown out of a first class compartment on a train because he is an Indian.  And so he begins a life long struggle to end English colonial rule of India through nonviolent protest and resistance.  

Ben Kingsley

This was such a  passion project for Attenborough, that his feeling for the material and the character of Gandhi show up in nearly every frame of the film, from its beautiful, sweeping shots of India to its tense action scenes, to the very way that Gandhi practically glows with righteousness.  I find it interesting that it took an Englishman like Attenborough to portray such a negative portrayal of British colonialism and prejudice, and he seems to take a definite pleasure in the way that he punctures the balloon of England's superior nature and sense of entitlement.  Although there is a likable English priest (played by Ian Charleston) who supports and admires Gandhi, the vast majority of Brits in the film are either brutal police and military officers, (like Edward Fox's chillingly vicious General Dyer, who's order to fire upon nonviolent protestors was one of the turning points in the British rule of India),  or they are pompous politicians like John Geilguld's  Lord Irwin, who underestimates our hero's resolve and influence.

John Geilguld

Ben Kingsley won a best actor Oscar for his portrayal of Gandhi, and even some thirty years later it is still seen as his signature role (in 2000, when he played a sadistic criminal in the film SEXY BEAST, many critics couldn't resist saying that Gandhi had gone bad).  And really, it is a great performance, one in which he is on camera almost throughout the film without ever losing the audience's interest.  Kingsley not only captured Gandhi's look (credit must also be given to the makeup department for pulling off an impressive resemblance)  and the cadences of his  speaking style, but, more importantly, both his charisma and his humility.  He rarely raises his voice, even when giving speeches, but he always holds himself with a quiet dignity that commands the attention of those around him.  And he also ages fifty years believably, never losing his sense of purpose, even as an old man. Bottom line, if we don't buy him as a great, influential leader, than the film doesn't work, and Kingsley more than accomplishes that.  That said, I wish John Briley's script gave him more humanizing moments, and didn't treat him with such reverence, which is the film's greatest flaw: early in the film, Briley has Gandhi quote Jesus, making a decidedly unsubtle comparison.  And from then on, Gandhi the man is always portrayed as a noble, brave, man who is a devout Hindu,  but completely open to other religions, and utterly committed to the cause of nonviolence.  The more controversial aspects of Gandhi's life (like his alleged sexual peccadilloes)are ignored in favor of pure fawning.  It is of course, difficult to portray the entire essence of such an influential figure in world history (a fact that the movie acknowledges in an opening credit), but I prefer my biographical films to show their subjects as real humans, warts and all. Perhaps Attenborough felt so strongly about getting this film made, and about the character of Gandhi that it prevented him from making a more honest portrayal.  It is interesting to contrast this film with another epic biographic film that was a passion project: Spike Lee's 1992 film MALCOLM X, which portrayed its hero in a far more real fashion, making it a film that I think surpasses Attenbrough's. 
Furthermore, I think that GANDHI goes on a bit too long,  with some of its impact lost in the second half of the film.  Also, the stars that are cast in supporting roles to beef up the film's box office appeal are a mixed bag; while Geilguld has fun in the mostly comic role of the dim witted Lord Irwin, Martin Sheen's reporter is not really necessary.  Worst of all is Candace Bergan as photographer Margaret Bouke White, who has so little screen time or impact on the story that she just seems like a distraction.  (Amazingly, Bergen got second billing after Kingsley!).  Still, if their casting was necessary to get funding for the film, then such are the realities of big budget filmmaking, and their presence is far from ruinous.  And it should be pointed that the non famous supporting cast are all uniformly excellent (I particularly like Alyque Padamsee as Mohammed Ali Jinah, the future founder of Pakistan).  So, the combined strengths of the film certainly outweigh its weaknesses and given that this film introduced Gandhi the man to a generation who had never heard of him before, it is certainly praiseworthy.


SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?


When GANDHI is compared to other good films released in 1982,  the difficulty of rating wildly different films becomes all too clear; how, exactly, does GANDHI compare with Sydney Pollack's wonderful comedy TOOTSIE?  Or Ridley Scott's influential BLADERUNNER?  Or my personal favorite, Steven Spielberg's enormously popular ET-THE EXTRA TERRESTRIAL?  It's never easy to say, but given how long it took Attenborough to get the film made, and how fine a film it is on the whole, I won't carp about the Academy's choice.

CHARIOTS OF FIRE (1981)

CHARIOTS OF FIRE (DIR:HUGH HUDSON SCR:COLIN WELLAND)

The win for CHARIOTS OF FIRE as  best picture of 1981 remains as one of the biggest Oscar upsets in history: somehow, this unassuming, low budget English film, with no big stars won out over Steven Speilberg's rousing RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, Warren Beatty's sweeping epic REDS, and Mark Rydell's sentimental hit, ON GOLDEN POND, surprising many people on Oscar night, and causing some to think that perhaps the three bigger films split the vote and pushed it over the top.  In any event, director Hugh Hudson's movie remains one of the most unlikely (and least liked) best picture winners ever.  If the film is remembered today for anything at all, it's for composer Vangelis's beautiful soundtrack, one of the most famous in movie history.  Personally, I find the film pleasant enough, hand some looking and well made, but it falls far from greatness, with many slow moments that don't justify its two hour running time.

It began when film producer David Puttman wanted to make a film about someone who follows his conscience, like 1966's best picture winner A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS. Then, while flipping through a copy of THE OFFICIAL HISTORY OF THE OLYMPICS he decided that a movie about the British athletes of the 1924 Summer Games would fit the bill.  ("Sport is such a clean simple metaphor" he would later say).   He hired writer Colin Welland (who had mostly worked in British television) to write the script; Welland researched heavily, interviewing surviving athletes and even getting copies of letters that one of the runners sent home.  (Despite Welland's research, there are, somewhat inevitably, a few historical errors in the film). Puttnam felt that it was important to have new faces in the film instead of established stars, even if that would make getting the funding more difficult.  He also made the surprising choice of Hugh Hudson as the film's director, even though Hudson had only directed short films and documentaries up to that point.  Eventually, the film was privately financed by the Allied Stars company, with distribution controlled by Hollywood film companies 20th. Century Fox and Warner Bros.  Unknown actors Ben Cross and Ian Charleson were cast in the leads, and the film was set.  When shooting was completed, Vangelis's all important score (his first) was added.  The finished film was wisely opened in London before reaching America, and good word of mouth aided it's arrival in the states, where it eventually grossed around sixty million dollars on a budget of around six.

The famous opening 

The film's story is about two British runners, the Scottish missionary Eric Liddell (Charleson) and the Jewish Englishman Harold Abrahams, who are rivals before both being picked for the 1924 Olympic games in Paris.   Although trouble comes when Liddell refuses to run on a Sunday for religious reasons,  he is allowed to switch with another runner, and both he and Abrahams go on to win gold medals.

One of the big criticisms of this film is that it feels more like a long episode of the English TV series MASTERPIECE THEATER than it does an actual film, and I think that that is a fair point; like that show, this is a film set in a highly romanticized version of England's past, in which the upper crust live on beautiful estates, attend Cambridge, engage in low key, high toned conversations with muted emotions and dress in dinner jackets  while attending Gilbert and Sulivan performances.   Unfortunately, this also means that the film, like the show, often feels pallid and bloodless when it should be emotional and up lifting.  The movie only really succeeds during the racing scenes, which are excellently photographed by David Watkin and edited by Terry Rawlings.  They contain all of the drama and excitement that the rest of the move often lacks, and, fortunately there are quite a few of them. In one striking moment, the camera shows the race track from the runner's point of view seconds before the race begins, and it seems to stretch out to infinity.   Another great moment comes when Puttnam shows Abrahams racing victory at normal speed, and then immediately flashes back to the same race in slow motion, heightening the hard fought nature of the runner's achievement.
The performances are all fine, especially considering how the actors had to train hard to believably  portray Olympic caliber athletes, but I wish there was a little less classic British stoicism in our two leads and little more sense of feeling.  This is especially true in the romance between Abrahams and singer Sybil Gordon (Alice Krige), which is distinctly lacking in passion.  My favorite performance in the film is given by Ian Holm as Abrahams trainer, Sam Mussabini, who's outspoken energy and gruff likability gives the film a needed shot in the arm whenever he's on screen, and who really should have been in the film more.

Ian Holm

I think the film really misses an opportunity in having the characters of Abrahams and Liddel share so little screen time together.  Here you have a Jewish man who's running is fueled by his anger and frustration at being Jewish in a mostly Christian country( he calls running a "weapon"), and a Christian missionary who is willing to give up Olympic glory if it means running on a Sunday.  Surely these two men would have something interesting to say to each other, especially when they go from being rivals to being on the same team.  But the film keeps them mostly apart, even when they are both traveling to the Olympics on the same ship.   I do admire the fact that the film doesn't take sides when they are competing, showing them both as honorable and dedicated men who run for good reasons.

I've already mentioned the excellent score by Vangelis, and really, it's hard to imagine the film without out it, especially in the famous opening shots of the young runners racing down the beach.  Using electronic music for the soundtrack of a film set in the 1920's was a very interesting gamble that pays off, as the music highlights the beauty and tension of the races.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

It's clear that, apart from the racing scenes, I'm not a big fan of this film, and I don't think that it should have won best picture.  Along with preferring both REDS and RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, I also liked Louis Malle's ATLANTIC CITY and Karel Reiz's THE FRENCH LIEUTENANT'S WOMAN more.

ORDINARY PEOPLE (1980)

ORDINARY PEOPLE (DIR: ROBERT REDFORD) (SCR: ALVIN SARGENT, BASED ON THE NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME BY JUDITH GUEST)

In 1980, for the second year in a row, the Academy awarded a serious family drama as the best film of the year.  But, unlike KRAMER VS. KRAMER, ORDINARY PEOPLE has not held up all that well; while it certainly isn't a poor film, in fact, it's quite good, it is almost maddeningly uneven, with effective moments followed by clunky ones, and it has even a few cringe worthy scenes that just don't ring true in a film that, as its very title implies, is supposed to be portraying a normal family.

Before it was a movie, it was a successful novel published by Judith Guest in 1976, which came to the interest of Robert Redford, who at the time had become frustrated at being just an actor and longed to direct a film.  He purchased the rights to the book and hired veteran screen writer Alvin Sargent  to adapt the novel.  The script took over two years to finish, with Sargent remaining faithful to the novel while turning its dialogue heavy style into something more cinematic.  For the central role of troubled teen Conrad, Redford conducted a nation wide search before choosing Timothy Hutton who had only a few roles on TV before this, and who posed as an outpatient at a private psychiatric hospital for a week to prepare for the part.  In the role of the sympathetic father, Redford cast Donald Sutherland, normally known for playing oddballs in films like MASH, against type.  Even more offbeat casting came when Mary Tyler Moore, still most famous for her perky role on her self titled TV show, was cast as Beth, the cold mother  of the family.  Another important role, that of the psychiatrist  Dr. Berger, was offered  to Gene Hackman, but he turned it down, so it  went to another TV star, Judd Hirsch from the show TAXI.  Made on a low budget of around six million dollars and shot mainly in Illinois, Redford basically got everything he wanted on the film with little studio interference. After being critically acclaimed, it would go on to make over fifty four million dollars at the box office.

It tells the story of the Jarrett family, father Calvin (Sutherland), mother Beth (Moore) and high school teen Conrad (Hutton).  The film is set about a year after a boating accident that Conrad was involved in that caused the death of his older brother Buck; shortly thereafter, Conrad tried to commit suicide and was hospitalized.  Out of the hospital for a few months, but still wracked with guilt, Conrad sees psychiatrist Dr. Berger (Hirsch) and becomes more and more alienated from his grieving mother.  Eventually, this leads to marital tension between Beth and Calvin.

Timothy Hutton and Mary Tyler Moore

The film opens with autumnal shots of suburban middle america that cinematographer John Bailey shoots with picture postcard beauty, but Marvin Hamlish's melancholy score on the soundtrack sets a mood of sadness that punctures that beauty, setting up the film's theme of the sorrow that lurks underneath a seemingly perfect American family.  It's a feeling that pervades the early scenes of the film as we see the (obviously well off ) family going about their business in a normal way, but with something off about it all, seen especially in the sunken eyes of young Conrad, so it's no surprise when we see him eventually decide to make an appointment with Dr. Berger.  While I think Redford lets some of these early scenes go on too long (do we really need to hear so much idle banter when Calvin and Beth go to a party?),  he does a good job of subtilely bringing out the tension of the family. But then, in a major misstep, the lack of connection between mother and son is illustrated by having the two of them share an awkward conversation that ends with him barking like a dog!  The moment is played completely straight, but I find it hard not to laugh at its absurdity and the way that Conrad's decision to bark seems to come from nowhere (yes, they were vaguely talking about  a dog, but still...).  Surely a less ridiculous way of showing their lack of communication could have been found by Redford and Sargent.

Unfortunately, this scene highlights what is the film's biggest flaw: how unlikable the Beth character is.  In interviews before making the film, Redford described his surprising casting of Moore by saying "I became interested in the dark side of Mary Tyler Moore", and while he sure found it,  I think he overdid it.  While there is a certain perverse pleasure in watching America's sweetheart play a villainess, the credibility of the film is hurt by it.   Moore does what she can with the role, but her perfect ice queen mother is often unbelievable: by the end of the film we learn that she never visited her son in the mental hospital, that she would rather go on vacation then spend time with him, that she has no intention of meeting with her son's psychiatrist, and that she even has trouble returning her son's hug!  Her coldness comes to a head in what is perhaps the film's low point: while on vacation with Calvin, she flies into a rage when her husband merely mentions her son's name.  Honestly, by the film's end, when Calvin tells her to leave, it's hard to believe he waited so long.  Furthermore, I find it strange that  the film never comes out  and says what the obvious motivation for her anger towards Conrad is: clearly, she loved Buck more than Conrad (we see evidence of this in a flashback), and she blames Conrad for Buck's death.  It seems odd that in a film that showcases people talking seriously about their feelings, this obvious point is never brought up and dealt with by the characters.  It's interesting to compare Moore's character with the one that Meryl Streep played a year before in KRAMER VS. KRAMER; while both of them are unsympathetic mothers, Streep's Joanna gives a speech at the end that explains her motivations, effectively humanizing her.  Moore's Beth has no such scene, and really, the only moment of sympathy we feel for her is when she  stands in her dead son's bedroom, forlornly gazing at old trophies and photos.  Other than that brief moment, she's pretty much a monster, too much so for my taste in what is an otherwise realistic film.

Judd Hirsh and Timothy Hutton

While I think Moore's character hurts the film, it still has many moving moments that make it worth watching; this is mainly due to the excellent performance by Hutton.  It is likely that Redford cast him in the film because he saw a younger version of himself in the boyishly handsome, immediately likable nineteen year old actor, who carries the film handily (save for the aforementioned "barking" scene).  He seems to have that same quality that James Dean had in REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE of being able to play a young man who often engages in foolish or dangerous behavior, but who is still essentially a good person with good intentions.   All of his interactions with Sutherland and Hirsch are very good (unlike Moore's character, the two men seem to radiate kindness and intelligence), especially in the film's most powerful scene when Conrad emotionally recollects the death of his brother with Hirsch in order to finally put it behind him.  He's also good in the film's lighter moments,  like when he romances Elizabeth McGovern or hangs out with his friends from school.  Yes, it's an impressive debut, one for which he won a best supporting actor award, even though he clearly is the lead.  

The smart thing that Sargent's script does is to mostly avoid unnecessary subplots, and overt melodrama; the story focuses  almost entirely on Conrad's mental state and how he, his family and his psychiatrist deal with it.  It's that rare Hollywood film in which the main character's goal is an entirely emotional one. I just wish that Moore's character could have had more sympathy; this is a story that should have no villain.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

  

It's obvious that I find this film uneven, and despite Hutton's performance, I don't think that it was the best film of that year.  Not when Martin Scorsase's RAGING BULL was released the same year.  Unlike ORDINARY PEOPLE, RAGING BULL is a film that only improves with age.

KRAMER VS. KRAMER(1979)

KRAMER VS. KRAMER (DIR: ROBERT BENTON) (SCR: BENTON, BASED ON THE NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME BY AVERY CORMAN)

KRAMER VS. KRAMER, the 1979 pick for best picture, was both a film that fell into a classic Hollywood style ( a domestic and courtroom drama) and something new and different; a serious, realistic film that looked at divorce and changing gender roles in the American family.  Moving without ever being maudlin, and wonderfully acted by both the adult stars and by child actor Justin Henry, it holds up beautifully and,  although some of the relationship discussions have now become cliches, (a wife leaving her husband tells him "It's not you, it's me", and later says she left to "find herself") it raises issues that remain relevant to this day.

It began as a novel by Avery Corman published in 1977 and purchased by producer Stanley Jaffe.  French director Francois Truffaut was originally considered as the director, with Robert Benton writing the script; eventually, Benton, who had directed only two films at that point, was picked to helm the film along with writing it.    For the lead role of Ted Kramer, Jafee knew right away that he wanted Dustin Hoffman.  Hoffman, who, along with Robert DeNiro, was quickly becoming famous for giving great performances in a wide variety of films, initially turned the role down, partly because he himself was going through a painful divorce at the time.  But Jaffe and Benton lobbied Hoffman hard for the role, and after several long, grueling script discussions between the three of them, he agreed to it.  He wound up bringing so much of his own feelings and experiences about divorce into the script that  Benton offered him a co screenwriting credit, which he refused.  Kate Jackson, star of TV's CHARLIE'S ANGELS, was cast as Joanna Kramer, with Meryl Streep cast to play Ted's one night stand Phyllis, but when Jackson's TV schedule kept her too busy to be in the film, Streep was bumped up to the role of Joanna and Jo Beth Williams played Phyllis.  And for the pivotal role of the six year old Billy Kramer, seven year old Justin Henry, who had no acting experience at all, was chosen after being discovered by his next door neighbor, who happened to be a casting director.  The filming of the movie ( done entirely in New York city) went smoothly, with a budget of around eight million dollars.  It got great reviews, and  really struck a cord with moviegoers, as divorce rates were skyrocketing around the country.

It tells the story of the Ted Kramer (Hoffman), a successful ad executive who is forced to care for his son Billy alone after his wife Joanna (Streep) abruptly leaves them.  Despite not knowing much about his son, Ted eventually bonds with him, but then Joanna returns, demanding custody of Billy.

Dustin Hoffman and Justin Henry

Throughout the film, Benton had cinematographer Nestor Almendros use naturalistic lighting, which, combined with location shooting, gives the film a realistic look, the perfect set up for scenes about people discussing their feelings and emotions.  (He also uses long takes and avoids too many close ups, letting the feelings expressed by the actors reach the audience indirectly.)  All of this adds to the sense of believability that pervades the film; really, this truly is a rare and wonderful thing, a Hollywood film that has a story that seems taken from the real world, without a hint of melodrama.  Even in the film's most harrowing scene, when Ted has to rush Billy to the emergency room, it comes from Billy falling off a jungle gym, an ordinary, everyday kind of accident.  The film is filled with nice, true to life moments than any parent can identify with, like Billy riding a bicycle for the first time, or mumbling his way through a school play.  

  The film opens with a close up of Joanna's face showing mixed feelings of warmth and sadness.  With a quick cut we pull back to see her caressing the face of her sleeping son; normally this display of maternal emotion in a film indicates a simple, tender moment, but her expression tells us otherwise.  This short, silent scene is crucial to her character, in that it shows how much she realizes how momentous the actions is about to take are, and that she is not acting lightly, but with deep thought and sadness.   Although the audience can criticize her decision to leave, we can also feel sympathy for the obvious pain that decision is bringing her.  Before this film, to portray a woman who abruptly leaves her child for fifteen months as anything other than a monster would be unheard of, and even today it's rare, but Benton wisely avoids making a villain out of Joanna, and the film is all the richer for it.  

When film actors are asked what kind of role is the most difficult to play, they usually say the same thing: it's not playing someone famous,  severely handicapped or insane that's the hardest.  No, the most tricky portrayals are ones of normal people who have normal things happen to them, because they have to keep the audience's interest without the inherent drama that unusual people come with.  By that standard, Hoffman's performance as Ted Kramer may be the best of his impressive career (he won a best actor award for it, his first). In charting the emotional change of a distant father (who has no idea what grade his child is in!) to a loving one, Hoffman never takes a false step or displays the wrong emotion; although he has some big moments of anger and bitterness, they always feel natural to the character, and he is just as good in the quieter scenes.  I love the way he deals with having to make French toast for Billy right after Joanna has left, attempting to put on a brave front of strained, almost manic joviality for his son, only to wind up breaking down in anger as he accidentally burns himself and curses his absent wife in front of his son.  (In a nice, understated moment, we later see Ted and Billy calmly make French toast together to show how much they've grown together.)

Hoffman reportedly talked over each scene carefully with his young costar before shooting, and the result is not only a believable father son relationship, but one that evolves from distant to close as the movie continues.  The fact that little Justin Henry had no acting experience before this film actually works to his advantage; he is cute, but not in the cloying,  Hollywood way that so many child actors are,  and when he is acting bratty, his anger is authentic and never played for laughs. In the famous scene in which he eats ice cream even as his father forbids him, (an idea Hoffman came up with based on a real argument he once had with his own daughter) he truly seems like a young child testing his boundaries.  Henry was nominated for best supporting actor for the role, the youngest actor to ever be nominated, and while just how much of his performance comes from him instead of the subtle manipulations of Benson and Hoffman is debatable,  he is excellent.  Without being too perfect, Billy is an  immensely likable kid that we can believe the two parents would fight over.

Meryl Streep

Although Streep's Joanna is gone for a large part of the movie, her absence is always felt, and her return is inevitable.  Like Hoffman, Streep won an Oscar for her role (as best supporting actress), mainly on the strength of her excellent court room speech in which she explains her reasons for leaving, and her desire to have Billy back in her life. Streep was not happy with the way the speech was originally written, and Benton allowed her to write it herself, a wise decision that makes it all the more moving.  The courtroom scenes in general are so intense, with both Ted and Joanna being forced to expose raw feelings, that they are almost unwatchable, and we feel sympathy for both of them as their opposing lawyers tear into them.  Although some divorce lawyers have criticized these scenes for being inaccurate (having had no personal experience in these kind of proceedings, I can't really comment on that), they get to a deeper truth: in divorces and custody battles, there often are no real winners.  This is the rare courtroom drama where both sides of the case have a point, and the judge could easily go either way.    

Other strengths in the film are Howard Duff's fine performance as Ted's tough but likable lawyer and George Coe as his boss.  Another stand out is Jane Alexander as Joanna's friend Margaret, who starts out the film not liking Ted, but who eventually befriends him (it's a rare delight to see a man and a woman become friends in a movie without any romantic entanglements).  Yes, by trusting  his actors, and striving for realism, Benson made a powerful yet understated classic that anyone going through a divorce, or just dealing with being a parent can relate to.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

This really is a tough call, that shows how difficult comparing vastly films can be: 1979 was really an outstanding year for films, with many films that have withstood the test of time being released, such as Bob Fosse's ALL THAT JAZZ, Francis Ford Coppola's APOCALYPSE NOW, Hal Ashby's BEING THERE, Woody Allen's MANHATTEN, and Martin Ritt's NORMA RAE, all of which have their strengths.  Still, for its straightforward, emotional story, and great performances, I think KRAMER VS. KRAMER was a fine choice.

THE DEER HUNTER (1978)

THE DEER HUNTER (DIR: MICHAEL CIMINO) (SCR:  DERIC WASHBURN)

After the bittersweet charms of ANNIE HALL, the academy plunged into far darker material with its pick of THE DEER HUNTER as the best picture of 1978.  Made just three years after the official end of the Viet Nam war, it would be the first best picture winner to deal directly with the war, and the first mainstream Hollywood film to do so at all (except for John Wayne's much maligned pro-war 1968 film THE GREEN BERETS).  Therefore, this is a historically important film that deal with the nation's difficult healing process after its first real military loss.  And, while the film is well acted,  and wonderfully, hauntingly shot, I find its mix of searing realism and outright fantasy uneven, and its running time far too long.  I don't think it brings the Viet Nam experience to the audience as effectively as later films like PLATOON and APOCALYPSE NOW would.
It's long journey to the screen began in 1968 when the British record company EMI started an off shoot film company and producer Michael Deely purchased a script by Louis Garfinkle and  Quinn K Redeker called THE MAN WHO CAME TO PLAY, about a wounded Viet Nam veteran who gets involved with a Russian Roulette game in Las Vegas.  The script bounced around for years with no takers, mainly because of the war element.  Eventually it came to the attention of  Michael Cimino, who at that point had directed only one film, 1974's likable  heist film THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT.  Cimino liked the script and worked on it with Deric Washburn, whom he had collaborated with on the screenplay for 1972's Sci fi film SILENT RUNNING.  They boldly decided to throw out the Las Vegas setting, split the personality of the main character into three separate men, and to play up the war elements of the script. (Cimino and Washburn would eventually have a falling out, leading to a fierce debate as to the actual authorship of the script.  Arbitration by the writer's guild awarded Washburn sole credit, but gave story credit to Cimino, Garfinkle and Redeker).
 Deely loved the new script, but felt that he needed a big star to get it made; luckily for him, he was able to interest Robert De Niro, who was then riding high after THE GODFATHER II and TAXI DRIVER.  Along with De Niro, other young up and coming actors like Meryl Streep and Christopher Walken were cast, and the movie was green lit with Universal Pictures co funding it with EMI.  The exacting Cimino took six months to shoot the film (with Thailand standing in for Viet Nam), and its initial budget of  eight and half million dollars swelled to over thirteen.  After much battling with the studio, Cimino managed to get the film released his way, with a running time of just over three hours, even though that length would cut down on the number of possible daily screenings at theaters.   Despite this, it would go on to make almost fifty million dollars.

Robert De Niro

It tells the story of three young steel workers, Michael (De Niro), Nick (Walken) and Steven (John Savage) in Pennsylvania who are drafted into the Viet Nam war in the late 60's.  While there, they are captured and forced to play Russian Roulette by the Viet Cong.  After a bloody shootout, they all escape, but the shell shocked Nick remains while Michael and the now crippled Steven return to America.  Eventually, Michael returns to Viet Nam to attempt to save Nick.

The film opens with shots of the three main characters working in a still mill, with bursts of flame and molten steel, nicely presaging the violence that is to come later.  Then there are scenes of the three men joining other friends and heading to a local bar, and Cimino really shows a flair for portraying the foul mouthed, rough camaraderie between the men, who are immediately believable friends.  Then comes Steven's wedding, a long scene with much dancing and singing, which the studio felt should have been shortened.  Personally,  while I agree that the wedding scene does go on too long, I think it introduces the characters well, and firmly establishes the setting that the young soldiers will soon be leaving, so I don't think it hurts the film.   One thing that I think is missing in these early scenes is any serious discussion by the men of the war that they are about to go fight in; by the late 60's, the war had been going on for years and was being heavily protested all around the country, but we never hear how they feel about it, other than a few drunken gung ho shouts. An odd scene in a bar in which they try to talk to a green beret who ignores them hardly counts as a serious discussion.  I get the impression that Cimino wanted to a avoid politics in the film, but surely these men would have felt something about the war, and I think that should have been shown.

The moments of combat and capture in Viet Nam are actually comparatively short to the rest of the film, but they are the most memorable, leading up to the famous (some might say infamous) Russian Roulette scene, in which Michael and Nick are forced by their guards to play against each other.  It is so well acted by De Niro and Walken, and so intensely made by Cimino that it is difficult to watch.  It caused some controversy, with many historians saying that the Viet Cong never actually forced anyone to do such a thing.  Personally, I don't have a problem with that because  of the scene's undeniable power and Russian Roulette's  metaphorical resonance for the horror and madness of the Viet Nam war, and really, war in general.  (Sadly, it would lead to several copy cat suicides after the film was shown on television). My only real problem with the scene is that there is over an hour of film left after it, none of which holds up to it.

Christopher Walken

In the latter part of the film,  Michael, thinking both of his friends are dead, returns to his hometown and hooks up with Nick's girlfriend Linda (Meryl Streep) while having trouble readjusting.  The story beings to meander a bit here, but the acting is strong enough to keep the audience's interest.  Then the film takes an odd turn: first, Michael discovers that the disabled Steven is alive and in a hospital.  Even more surprising, when he visits Steven, he finds out that someone in Saigon has been sending him money, and he's convinced that it must be Nick.  Michael travels to Saigon, which is in chaos as the war is drawing to a close.   After some realistic shots of the city in turmoil, he finds out where Nick is, and the movie takes a turn to the surreal as he takes a boat ride through a shadowy, flaming river that clearly is supposed to resemble the river Styx.  While the boat ride is beautifully shot, it is in such jarring contrast to the documentary like feel of the preceding scenes that it seems like something from another movie.  And then things get even weirder, as Michael discovers a heroin addicted Nick, who has no memory of him.  Somehow, Nick has been successfully playing Russian Roulette for some time and has made quite a bit of money at it.  Michael bribes his way into a game with Nick, which briefly jars Nick's memory. But Michael can't end the game, and Nick winds up shooting himself.   Since the idea of someone consistently winning at Russian Roulette is, of course, impossible, the only way this can work in the story is as a metaphor, and while I've previously stated that I'm alright with the use of Russian Roulette earlier in the film as metaphor for the self defeating madness of war, here I think it completely unravels, pushing the film into far too unreal territory after setting up a mostly realistic world.  It appears that the implication of this entire sequence, beginning with the boat ride and ending with Nick shooting himself, is that Michael is traveling into hell to rescue his friend, only to find him already damned, an interesting idea, but one that I think is both unnecessary and damaging to a film with more than enough story going on without this surreal trip. 

Despite my reservations about the final part of the movie, this is still too good a film to dismiss, mainly because of the performances; after playing gangsters in MEAN STREETS and THE GODFATHER II and a psychopath in TAXI DRIVER, its great to see Robert De Niro prove that he could play a decent, normal blue collar guy (in his customary way, he spent time socializing with steel workers before shooting). De Niro's macho male Michael (who obsesses about killing a deer with one shot when hunting) and Walken's more sensitive  Nick (who admits he mainly likes to go hunting just to see the trees) play well off each other in the early scenes, and they're both still good even in the more unreal scenes towards the end.  I like the way that the strong Michael desperately reassures Nick that they will survive during their capture, or the tentative way that he later romances Streep's Linda.  De Niro is on screen in almost every scene in the film, and he's never less than compelling.  On the other hand, Streep, who reportedly wrote her own dialogue, does what she can with her small role, but lacks enough screen time to make the kind of impression she would in later roles.  Like most war films, this is mostly a story about men.

Finally, I think its important to mention another controversy about the film: racism.  When this film played at the Berlin film festival, Russia and other Soviet bloc countries withdrew their films in protest of the depiction of the Viet Cong.  While I personally don't object to the scenes in which the Viet Cong torture the prisoners, since, even if they didn't specifically force prisoners to play Russian Roulette, there are definitely many accounts of them torturing captured American soldiers.  What I do object to is the complete lack of a single sympathetic Asian character, with the Viet Cong all being portrayed as sadistic monsters. So yes, the racism charge I think does have some merit, but not enough to completely ruin the film.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

While this was a bold and controversial choice for the Academy, there was another movie about the Viet Nam war that came out that year that was better:  Hal Ashby's COMING HOME, which wasn't afraid to be political about the war, and was far more realistic.  I also prefer Terrence Malick's THE DAYS OF HEAVEN to THE DEER HUNTER.  Still, it's a strong, well acted film, and therefore not a bad choice for the Academy to have made.