When Gena Davis hosted the Oscars, she introduced her date as the man every woman wanted to leave with. Then she reached for something off camera, held up an Academy Award and said "Oscar, of course."
I blame my obsession with Oscar night on the fact that I fully intend to win my own. With that in mind, I've attempted to educate myself on what goes into an Oscar-winning film. That basically means watching a lot of movies, but it's socially respectable because they're classics, see?
My last subject was Grand Hotel (featuring one of my new favorites, Greta Garbo). I'm fascinated at what makes one particular film stand out among the rest. The first aspect I see worth noting in this one is the intersection of so many stories. Not until this moment did I realize the extent to which they're all fleshed out within 112 minutes.
Let's see. We have the
ballerina, the dying man, the brute, the maybe or maybe not so innocent stenographer, the thief and the porter. Strangers in a lush hotel who end up being all connected. Everyone's lives are irreversibly changed, but as Dr. Otternschlag says, "Grand Hotel... always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens. Nothing really happens. "
He's right. Nothing happens. People meet. They talk. They dance, they don't dance. The only 'happening' makes its entrance as the film is ending.
"Murder?!" cries a telephone operator.
And even then the response is "oh, they're drunk."
But no, it's murder most foul, and the film ends a few minutes later. I think it would be fascinating to pick up a screenplay that begins right there.
I'm fond of saying I can appreciate things regardless of whether I like them. In this case, I liked the weaving of stories and divergent cast of characters. Best Picture? It's always difficult to judge a film outside of the time and climate in which it was released. For this one, though, I think I understand the honor of Best Picture.
I blame my obsession with Oscar night on the fact that I fully intend to win my own. With that in mind, I've attempted to educate myself on what goes into an Oscar-winning film. That basically means watching a lot of movies, but it's socially respectable because they're classics, see?
My last subject was Grand Hotel (featuring one of my new favorites, Greta Garbo). I'm fascinated at what makes one particular film stand out among the rest. The first aspect I see worth noting in this one is the intersection of so many stories. Not until this moment did I realize the extent to which they're all fleshed out within 112 minutes.
Let's see. We have the
ballerina, the dying man, the brute, the maybe or maybe not so innocent stenographer, the thief and the porter. Strangers in a lush hotel who end up being all connected. Everyone's lives are irreversibly changed, but as Dr. Otternschlag says, "Grand Hotel... always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens. Nothing really happens. "He's right. Nothing happens. People meet. They talk. They dance, they don't dance. The only 'happening' makes its entrance as the film is ending.
"Murder?!" cries a telephone operator.
And even then the response is "oh, they're drunk."
But no, it's murder most foul, and the film ends a few minutes later. I think it would be fascinating to pick up a screenplay that begins right there.
I'm fond of saying I can appreciate things regardless of whether I like them. In this case, I liked the weaving of stories and divergent cast of characters. Best Picture? It's always difficult to judge a film outside of the time and climate in which it was released. For this one, though, I think I understand the honor of Best Picture.
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