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By Other Voices voices@moviecitynews.com

Veni Vidi Vhatever

So the announcement we’ve all been waiting for this year came and went this morning. The Oscar nominations were exhaled with something of a dry whiff more than a commanding voice.

Munich managed to make its way to an Oscar nomination for Best Picture in the midst of all the bad press and amidst all the love for EVERY SINGLE OTHER MOVIE. The only Guild citations Munichreceived were from the Directors Guild and the American Cinema Editors. Meanwhile, Walk the Line, which tied Munich’s tally with five nominations overall, was sent packing from the Best Picture quintet.

What does this do to collective reasoning? The assumption is (and should be) that a film needs…I don’t know…SUPPORT to become a Best Picture nominee. While it might not be a stretch to consider 800 Academy members deeming it their #1 film of the year, it is indeed a shock that neither the actors, nor the cinematographers, nor the art directors, nor the sound designers, nor the sound editors, nor the producers considered it as such. So who were these 800 people?

It boggles the mind.

The single greatest moment of the morning for this viewer was hearing Terrence Howard’s name mentioned in the short list of Best Actor contenders for his ground-shattering performance inHustle & Flow. He has held the stage like no other this season and has obviously wanted it. Well, he got it…and I dare say if anyone has the strength to muscle past Philip Seymour Hoffman’s potential early peak, it’s a pimp from Memphis.

The most interesting thing to note of the nominations list is that the expected leader, Brokeback Mountain, landed a mere eight nominations. The last time we had such a small tally for the leader was in 1999 for American Beauty. Crash and Good Night, and Good Luck. followed behind with six apiece, and Munich andCapote landed five.

Quite obviously, there was an overall lack of passion from the Academy this year. Perhaps they sensed the (arguably) weak year for cinema overall and that reflected in their choices for the best in each field. Who knows for sure? Regardless, this was the first year since 1996 that such intimate, largely independent productions ruled the day.

So what were the lessons of the year?

The first thing that stands out is the notion that critical assessment matters not in the realm of Academy Award nominations. I tend to offer up the simple but truthful phrase “critics do not vote for Oscars” when debating whether shoddy reviews can damage a film on that notion alone. And today, the critically panned Memoirs of a Geisha landed more nominations than two of the Best Picture nominees (six), and it tied two others. In addition, Ziyi Zhang was, without a doubt, on the cusp of a nomination for Best Actress given her Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild mentions, so that tally could easily have been seven.

Even Cinderella Man fought to three nominations, coming close to five given the precursor support for Russell Crowe’s performance and Akiva Goldsman and Cliff Hollingsworth’s screenplay. Not bad for a film that was supposed to be dead and forgotten at the start of the season.

And one thing I should mention is that, even though I am not a fan of the film, I am glad that the last minute change in screenplay categorization for Syriana did not impede its potential for landing a nomination from Stephen Gaghan’s fellow writers. Perhaps the Academy should take the initiative in the future to notify studios when they decide to change the category placement of a film, regardless of whether they have an obligation to or not. When you’ve got a screenplay getting WGA nominations in the adapted category and coming down to a dead heat for the USC Scripter win, it could be a bad situation for the studio, which is pumping money into a specific campaign with a specific focus. A little communication goes a long way.

One final note, my fingers were crossed that Batman Begins would not be shut out of the scenario and, thankfully, the film did manage to score a single nomination, for Wally Pfister’s beautiful cinematography. While the film certainly deserved more recognition, it at least can bear the moniker of “Oscar nominee.” What a great category in which to be nominated.

For now, it’s off to the Kodak Theatre. Reese Witherspoon and Rachel Weisz have taken major steps forward to become the winners in the ladies’ categories, and Philip Seymour Hoffman is on a roll in the lead actor race. The wins for Brokeback Mountain and Ang Leehave been givens for months at this point. Peaking early in such a thin year can’t be harmful with such paltry competition (objectively speaking). The real race to watch in the majors is going to be Best Supporting Actor, where the Academy will be forced to decide if they owe it to Paul Giamatti for two years of slights more than they owe it to George Clooney for one year of brilliance.

And the season rolls on…

January 31, 2006

E-mail Kris Tapley
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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon