Matt's Big Oscar Challenge Days 256 and 257: Redford and Newman end the decade with a bang

Film partnerships are something that cinema has thrived on throughout the years from Laurel and Hardy to Abbott and Costello. During the early years of the 1970s, two films cropped up in the Oscar nominations that had Robert Redford and Paul Newman topping the bill. An established star, Newman was one of the top Box Office stars of the 1960s thanks to his roles in The Hustler and Cool Hand Luke. Meanwhile Redford was an up-and-coming name who would later usurp Newman as the top draw at the Box Office. As well as sharing this incredibly talented duo; both films are directed by George Roy Hill and often feel like pastiches of the genres they inhabit.

This assertion is certainly true of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, a film that is in many ways a send-up of the Western genre. Unlike other Westerns, Butch and Sundance doesn't take itself too seriously and instead often pokes fun at how silly some of the plot devices in these sorts of movies often are. Incredibly loosely adapted from the story of its titular outlaws, the film focuses on Butch and Sundance as they escape from America and try to start a new life in Bolivia. Butch and Sundance is a film of two halves, the first a fairly standard Western in which our central figures carry out a number of train robberies. After being tracked down by a group of determined lawmen, Butch and Sundance decide to abscond into Bolivia in order to lead new lives. They are joined by Etta Place, Sundance's teacher girlfriend, who realises that the boys aren't going to be able to rob banks in Bolivia until they learn Spanish. The sequences in which the pair attempt to learn Spanish are some of the film's funniest and they lead to some more memorable moments as Butch and Sundance become Bolivia's Most Wanted. I found the romantic subplot of Butch and Sundance incredibly endearing as it's clear that Butch has eyes for Etta. The sequence in which they ride around on a bicycle, to the strains of 'Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head', is a sweet moment in another wise action-packed adventure. Obviously, Butch and Sundance is famous for its closing sequence, a freeze frame shot in which we are to assume what happens to the duo. Though it's clear what the outcome will be, what's less clear is why I grew to love these men who essentially rob to make their living.

Part of the reason for empathising with these bank robbers is due to William Goldman's fantastic script which presents the bank robbers in a vulnerable way. Usually in a western we root for the lawman, but here Butch and Sundance are a couple of endearing figures who are just trying to make a living the only way they know how. Both characters aren't as macho as they'd have you believe, with Butch never having fired a shot in his life and Sundance not knowing how to swim. In addition, it's great to see a strong female character in Etta and it's easy to spot why both men are completely in love with her. I personally felt that the first half of the film dragged, but once the trio reached Bolivia things really started to get going and ultimately I believe Goldman deserved his Best Screenplay Award. Conrad L Hall was similarly deserving of his Best Cinematography Oscar primarily due to the different techniques he employs throughout the film. As well as the aforementioned freeze frame shot, Hall makes the film stand-out by having its first five minutes shot in a sepia tone before returning to a traditional colour print. The scenes in which the trio journey to Bolivia by boat are also well-presented via a series of still-frame shots which almost feel like a set of holiday photos. Another memorable aspect of Butch and Sundance is the song 'Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head' which became a hit as a result of the film and was another Oscar winner alongside the movie's score. I did feel that Katharine Ross was incredibly compelling as this sweet schoolteacher who decided she wanted to live a little and used her gifts to becoming an accessory to a series of bank robberies. But ultimately, Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid belonged to Newman and Redford who played their roles to pure perfection. There was undeniable chemistry between the pair that made it easy to believe why these two trusted each other so much. Similarly it was easy to see why Hill turned to the duo again for a subsequent film that concerned another criminal duo, this time a pair of 1930s conmen.

But, whereas Butch and Sundance saw Redford and Newman share the screen, The Sting presented Redford's Johnny Hooker as the leading man. The opening twenty or so minutes of The Sting introduced us to Hooker, a fairly adept conman who pulls of an operation, not realising that he's stealing from notorious crime boss Doyle Lonegan. After blowing the money he stole and realising his lifes at risk, Hooker flees to Chicago and meets up with world-weary conman Henry Gondorff, played by Newman. Though the two are initially reluctant partners they eventually invent a scheme to steal millions of pounds from Doyle, partly as revenge for the murder of their mutual acquaintance Luther Coleman. Both introduce themselves to Doyle aboard a train, using aliases, and manage to convince him that they are bookie and disgruntled employee respectively. After Gondorff, posing as the bookie, manages to out-con Doyle, Hooker convinces him that they can take the bookie to the cleaners by rigging a horse race. From there all of the characters try to outdo one another, with the plot taking another turn with the introduction of Lieutenant Snyder, a corrupt officer who has a vendetta with Hooker. There are a couple of twists along the way that not even I saw coming whilst Hooker finds a brief romance with a down-to-Earth waitress. Just like with Butch and Sundance, the final scene ends with a shoot-out but unlike the duo's earlier film this one is played as just another con.

I did find it odd that Hill recruited Redford and Newman only to have them share a minimum amount of scenes together. Though they're working on the same con together, Redford spends most of his time with Robert Shaw's Doyle and Newman is often seen in another room. When they do share scenes together, their chemistry is still brilliant but to me these segments are few and far between. However, they do highlight how art imitates life with Newman's Gondorff being the world weary master to Redford's Hooker who still has a lot to learn After The Sting, Redford's star would surpass Newman's and sadly the pair didn't work together on the big screen again. As far as the film as a whole goes I thought it was visually brilliant, especially thanks to William H Reynold's Oscar-winning editing as he used plenty of unique methods to cut between scenes. In fact everything from the period detail, to the costumes and the Al Jolson score set it apart from other films being made at the time. Similarly, David S Ward's brilliantly crafted story keeps the audience guessing as we find we've been conned as much as the majority of the characters in The Sting. But, despite an entertaining story and a unique visual style, I didn't personally think The Sting had much going on below the surface. Though Butch and Sundance was presented in a similarly flippant style, the romantic plot involving Etta gave it a bit of depth and made the characters feel sympathetic. Despite enjoying their exploits, I didn't think Gondorff and Hooker were particularly well-rounded individuals and I didn't really connect with them as characters. Therefore I do wonder why The Sting went on to win the Best Picture prize at the 1974 ceremony, something I will address in my next post.

As for Redford and Newman, their careers would take different twists and turns during the rest of the decade. Additionally they would both go on to achieve success at the Oscars during the 1980s, something I'll explore in my first post looking at the Oscar ceremonies from that decade. But for now its goodbye to the 1970s, a decade that arguably had the most amount of quality nominees of all time.

Matt's Big Oscar Challenge Day 229-230: The Rise of the Summer Blockbuster

Throughout my reviews of 1970s films I've noted how many of the stars and directors would go on to change the cinematic landscape. One such film-maker was Steven Spielberg who, in 1975, essentially created the summer blockbuster. At the time Spielberg had only directed one cinematic feature, The Sugarland Express, and so nobody expected his film about a shark to be particularly historical. But, by putting the film out over the summer, traditionally the time in which studios dumped their less-appealing films, Spielberg capitalised on a new market. His film went on to become the most successful film of all time, for at least two years, and essentially created what we know today as the summer blockbuster.

That film was of course Jaws, adapted from the book by Peter Benchley, and focusing on a shark which threatens the residents of the close-nit Amity Island. Amity's Chief of Police Martin Brody is the first to identify a shark attack after a young girl is killed. But the island's mayor is keen not to close the beach as summer season is on its way. The mayor also clashes with Brody, who was once a cop in the big city, as he doesn't think he understands island life. Following another death by shark, Brody calls in marine biologist Matt Hooper who is able to identify the type of shark the islanders should be looking for. With summer trade at its busiest, the shark strikes again and it's only then that the mayor instructs Brody to hunt down the animal. Brody hires old sea dog Quint and he and Hooper join him on the hunt for the shark. Obviously the search is hard and the mismatched trio don't always live harmoniously together. Indeed Quint's old-fashioned mentality and Hooper's gadgetry aren't best suited to one another while Brody's hatred of the water doesn't exactly make him the ideal candidate to look for a shark.

One of the joys of watching Jaws is the simplicity of the story and the way in which the shark is introduced through the trickery of the screen. Indeed, it is John Williams' score that created the iconic shark and every time those notes are played you know the threat is imminent. Spielberg's high-concept plot meant that audiences didn't have to think too much about what was going on and instead enjoyed the first real summer blockbuster. However, Jaws isn't a blockbuster in the way we know today and isn't chocked full of special effects and wafer-thin characters. The story was the most important thing for Spielberg, who hired many people to edit Benchley's original script, and he wanted the first two thirds of the story to build up to the three men in a boat adventure. I found this build-up to be incredibly masterfully produced with the islanders willing to ignore the threat of the shark until it was right there in front of them. As Brody, Roy Scheider provided the world-weariness of a man who just wanted to do the right thing and was thwarted at every corner. The then unknown Richard Dreyfuss was a ball-of-energy as the enigmatic Hooper and was the perfect antidote to Robert Shaw's cantankerous Quint. Jaws is primarily a film about three men at different stages in their life who just happen to be chasing a man-eating shark. Jaws definitely still looks as good today as it did when it was released and it proves that most blockbusters just need a good story and an effective way to signify the main villain.

John Williams was back two years later signifying the main villain in another summer blockbuster, which overtook Jaws as the most successful film of all time. That film was Star Wars, a movie that has become incredibly famous to the extent where I feel I don't really need to review it. This is because that everybody has their own memory of when they first watched Star Wars and for me it was watching the trilogy back-to-back just before The Phantom Menace was released in 1999. Though I've caught it on the TV in the following years, this was my chance to watch it through a film graduate's eyes and change some of my memories of the film. It's actually quite hard to write about Star Wars without hurting someone's feelings but the first thing I should say is that it's not that spectacular. I feel when people reminisce about Star Wars they're thinking about the whole trilogy but judging the first film by itself is a lot different. Obviously the film is made great by the special effects, which at the time were ground-breaking, and there's no denying that watching someone pull out a lightsaber for the first time is a truly magical experience. Similarly characters like Chewbacca or Darth Vader just didn't exist in normal mainstream cinema back then and I feel that audiences would've been intrigued by their presence. Obviously John Williams reserves some credit for the aforementioned score which instantly brings back memories of both the film's opening and Darth Vader's legendary strut down the death star.

Director George Lucas was really able to create an incredible universe of characters, planets and spaceships with the mythology of the Star Wars universe seeming vast and mysterious. At the same time the characters of Luke, Leia and Han feel fairly simplistic while the central plot is incredibly basic. However, Lucas was lucky with his choice of actors all of whom share great chemistry. Harrison Ford was an inspired choice to play the swaggering Han Solo and he was totally believable as a gambling drunk. Wide-eyed Mark Hammil perfectly encapsulated the innocent Luke while Carrie Fisher combined sexiness with strength to play Leia who could easily hold her own amongst the boys. Bringing gravitas to proceedings was Alec Guinness as Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi though his casting was mainly to appease the studio heads who didn't like the fact he was casting unknowns. Acting and visuals aside; my 2013 viewing experience of Star Wars was pleasant enough but it didn't blow me away. I can understand how audiences at the time would've been dazzled by everything they saw on screen but today I feel that Star Wars, if judged as a film on its own, is nothing more than an entertaining two hour romp. A while back I had an argument with a friend who was trying to explain to me why Star Wars should have won Best Picture over the film that eventually triumphed. His argument was based on the film's legacy but, at the time, there was no legacy to speak off and the Academy purely had to go on the quality of the overall film. It seemed the Oscars did acknowledge the film's main strengths and gave it six awards mainly in the sound, visual effects and art direction categories. However, I would argue that the film itself isn't exactly a masterpiece even if it influenced hundreds of sci-fi films that would come after it.

Next up we get into the ring with a contender that became a Best Picture Winner.

Matt's Big Oscar Challenge Day 209: More English History Lessons

As I've been trawling through the 1960s nominees I've been amazed at how many British films I've come across. Those of you who read my Peter O'Toole piece know that the actor starred in two films in which he played Henry II, those being Becket and The Lion in Winter. I'd like to think that those two films make up some sort of trilogy with my final 1960s film - A Man for All Seasons. The film, which won Best Picture at the 1967 ceremony, also concerns English monarchy and is full of idyllic outdoor locations. Like Becket, the film is about the relationship between a King and one of his nobleman, in this case Henry VIII and his Chancellor Sir Thomas More. The film is all based around the story of Henry attempting to get a divorce from Catherine of Aragon so he can marry his mistress Anne Boleyn. The incredibly pious More doesn't think that Henry should get the divorce and moreover refuses to implant him as head of the Church of England. It's clear that Henry really loves Thomas, however he can't understand his friend's decision not to let him do whatever he wants. In the end, Thomas realises that resistance is futile so he resigns as Chancellor and the marriage later goes through. However, Henry is keen to punish More for both refusing the marriage and not attending the wedding. Henry requests that the new Chancellor, Thomas Cromwell, try to find evidence that proves More is a traitor. However, More remains steadfast in his silence and is arrested for his supposed betrayal of the King. Anybody who knows their English history knows how the story ends, however I'm not going to spoil it for those who didn't listen during class.

From the opening few scenes of A Man for All Seasons, it's pretty easy to see that the film was based on a play. A lot of the scenes involve characters simply talking to each other in rooms while I times I felt I was simply watching a filmed version of the play. Having said that, the film attempts to make the most of its exterior locations most notably the journey More makes between his house and court using the river. The Oscar-winning costumes are all also stunning and really add to the realism of the film as you really believe you're in Tudor England. However, the film's best quality is definitely its ensemble cast, all of whom completely embody their respective characters. Paul Scofield won the Best Actor Oscar for his role as More and I found him completely engrossing throughout. Scofield is able to convey More's moral standing with ease but also makes him somewhat of a flawed hero. As his wife, the Oscar-nominated Wendy Hiller puts in another great turn as she pleads with her husband to forgo his morals and save himself. In addition, the film boasts several scene-stealing performances most notably Robert Shaw as the boisterous King Henry and Orson Welles as the shady Cardinal Wolsely. In one of his first on-screen roles, John Hurt makes a big impression as the slimy Rich who plays both sides of the court to get his own way. My main issue with A Man for All Seasons was that it remained fairly static throughout and I never really found myself immersed in the story in the way I probably ought to be. This is probably because I studied this period of history quite extensively and therefore found it quite hard to enjoy A Man for All Seasons as pure entertainment film.

Overall, A Man for All Seasons is an incredibly well-acted film that boasts gorgeous costumes and art direction. At the same time a lot of the scenes are quite static and I never felt I could truly relax while watching the film. But did the film deserve to win Best Picture? Join me next time as I look back at the 1960s ceremonies and reveal my decisions on whether the ten winners all deserved their awards.