Johnny Simmons

It’s that time of year when the internet is virtually flooded with a slew of Best of Lists. I’m no year ready to turn the lights off on 2010. There are still a number of releases I’d like to see before I compile my personal picks, but now is as good a time as any to return my running feature Forgotten Characters, focusing specifically on the characters of 2010 in film. There’s a smorgasbord of picks to choose from, and this should probably carry me until the end of January which is about when I should start working on my year end awards. 

I decided I'd restart the feature with what's arguably the most talked about film of the year, Nolan's Inception - which I liked, in spots. I know a few expected Inception to be nominated for Ensemble Cast at the Screen Actors' Guild Awards, I didn't though. Of Nolan's features, it has the strongest cast but it's also the least inspired work he's gotten from an ensemble. Still, though Marion's Mal sort of steamrolled everyone around her there's another performance that I keep recalling - alone...

Everyone is playing a distinctive "type" in Inception (my review), and as the literal scene of the crime to be done Murphy must play Fischer in the register of the oft-forgotten, somewhat bitter son so I'm even more proud of Murphy for managing to turn in what's probably the most emotional arc of the entire film. He's lucky, because aside from the Cobb/Mal fiasco he's the only character who has an actual backstory, and to Nolan's credit as simplistic as it is it's never tawdry. What I appreciate even more, though, is how Murphy plays it - it's as Fischer is in his own film and he's just crossing paths with the Inception folks. Like that early scene with the toy windmill. It's the sort of emotional nuances you don't expect to see (and that you sort of wish was more prevalent in the film).

                                                      

It sort of makes me feel a tad more sympathetic towards him that we're essentially going through an entire film feeding him a lie, and though that emotional centerpiece is nowhere near as delicately developed as Mal's madness it makes me appreciate Cillian more. I'm often feeling out-of-the-loop when it comes to him; as if I should like him more - but I'm rarely given a palpable reason to. Not that he breaks new ground with Fischer in Inception, but it's the sort of well played characterisation that's always well appreciated especially when it's possible to play the entire thing in a one-note register that most wouldn't mind. So, that final scene where he brushes shoulders with Cobb in the airport I wonder just what happens to Robert afterwards....

                    

                

(All the FORGOTTEN)

Original Score
Though my interest in current music has waned, I’m still a general fan of music. So, I’m one of those people that these categories aren’t extraneous. A list has recently been published – the 77 original scores eligible for the category. The obvious problem with predicting this category is that many precursors don’t feature them, so you’re sort of going in blind. I often wonder how voters judge the category, because the increasing propensity of high profile films getting a sort of de facto nod here is disturbing. At the moment Hans Zimmer’s work on Inception is being touted as the frontrunner. I’m neither here nor there on his work in the film, but that’s pretty much a shoo-in for a nom, as is Alexandre Desplat. Truly, Desplat should have been Oscar-ed by now, he has three films up The King’s Speech, The Ghost Writer and Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows. His work on The Ghost Writer is excellent, but I suppose the pedigree of The King’s Speech makes it a more likely contender. I’m still surprised the Globes snubbed Portman’s work in Never Let Me Go, but that film has become continually forgotten. Still, Portman’s probably the most noted female composer so I’ll assume she’ll get some love there. Then there, Rahman’s work on 127 Hours has been noted by a few precursor groups and he is a defending champion in the category, so he’s a safe bet too. I think The Social Network is a fine example of best picture support turning a film into a veritable contender in all categories but it does have a fine score, and whatever the reason for its appearance on a number of list it’s nice to see it there.

127 Hours / Inception / The King’s Speech / Never Let Me Go / The Social Network
I’m not sure if he didn’t submit, or if it was deemed ineligible – whatever the case Dario Marianelli’s score Agora is not on the list of commentating scores. I’d love for the voters to get a little less insular since there are a number of competing scores that deserve a look. Anton Sanko’s work in Rabbit Hole and perhaps Jan A. P. Kaczmarek’s Get Low could emerge as a contender. Danny Elfman’s Alice in Wonderland is a potential contender, but I still don’t have faith in that particular projection.

I’m predicting three songs for the original song race, because it’s kind of obvious that the Academy has little interest in this category. And I suppose, in a race it’d be the one that’s most extraneous but I don’t think the category’s that incidental. In case you don’t know how it works, the 41 songs are seen on a continuing loop and ranked on a scale of 1-10. Then, the songs that have an accumulative average of 8.25 are nominated. If no songs get above that score, none are nominated – if 1 song gets above that the next two are nominated and if more than 5 get nominated, the highest five are nominated (obviously). It’s kind of obvious that this category isn’t really a priority.

“If I Rise” from 127 Hours / “You Haven’t Seen the Last of Me” from Burlesque / “I See the Light” from Tangled /

                     

I like Christina’s work in “Bound to You” but I don’t see two songs from Burlesque taking off. “Coming Home” from Country Song and “We Belong Together” from Toy Story III would be two I’d add if the number went to five.

                

 My favourite post these past few days comes undoubtedly from Joe Reid who shares my overzealous love for Parks & Recreation. In case you didn’t know, Parks & Recreation sits next to Dexter as my favourite television show. Joe compiles a top ten list of the best episodes of season 2. Good stuff, people.

Mike is asking an interesting question. If you’ve seen a film, but can’t remember it – have you really seen it?

The Fighter is one of those films headed to an Oscar nomination that I’ve yet to see. I’m still not particularly excited about it, but Paolo offers up some nice thoughts.

Yesterday was Jude Law’s birthday, and Anna celebrates it by reviewing Cold Mountain. It’s so weird that Jude only has two nominations, ah well.

I think this is like the fifth True Grit review I’ve linked to, and I’m still yet to see it. Univarn’s a fan, though.

Don’t you just love Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Anahita does.

Ryan rounds up the year in TV.

Tom gives a nice review of The King’s Speech which I’m waiting impatiently to see.

Andy’s #1 film is Inception which doesnt make me particularly enthused, but he’s got Scott Pilgrim vs the World and The Social Network AND The Ghost Writer in his top ten. Aye-aye, I say.

And, Rabbit Hole one of those films that’s being remembered but not as much as I think it should. Two reviews come your way, Jose offers up a nice look mentioning some subtleties of the film and Tim discusses the general morosness of it all – although it really never struck me as sad...

I’m a big fan of Jude Law. That in itself feels like a gross understatement. Next to Ralph Fiennes he’s my favourite living actor. And it’s weird, I’m always wailing about consistency, but Jude doesn’t have an impeccable track record. Like any good actor he stars in less than in interesting projects I often wonder if Jude sincerely believes in the films he promotes – maybe he’s self deluded like Errol Flynn, remember his line in The Aviator “I have an eye for talent”, considering the times he's been great - you'd think so. Then, considering things like Sherlock Holmes, Repo Men, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus – not bloody likely.

                         

Oh, but I do love him – even if my worth as a fan is incredibly precarious when I consider the Jude Law films I haven’tI Heart Huckabees, which with its eclectic must be seen one day; or Breaking & Entering, which as a staunch Anthony Minghella fan I have no excuse for not seeing; or AI: Artificial Intelligence, which I’ve seen showing often but never bothered to watch. And yet, I’ve still got five performances of his that I especially love.

What is it about Jude playing moguls of perfection? I like to remember this movie for Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman, the former especially who's never revered as much as he ought to be, but Jude steals the show playing the perfect man, who's not so perfect. Jerome is a bit of a dick, okay a lot of a dick - but that's the thing about Jude, even when you hate him...you can't. Even though Niccol's Gattaca didn't take off as well as it should have, does anyone (besides me) remember it anymore?

And he moves from the somewhat sympathetic epitome of past perfection, to a full blown cad who's know for his (you guessed it) perfection. Dickie Greenleaf is still my favourite Jude performance...it's one of my favourite supporting performances period, he just has those line-readings down pat. And when he says everyone has one talent, you kind of think that his is playing perfect - and being a pretentious douchebag, that we still can't help wishing we were friends with.

                        

(Somewhere in between this he played another epitome of perfection in AI: Artificial Intelligence)

As it is, though, I do find something beautiful in the fact that Jude earned his two Oscar nominations (thus far) for Anthony Minghella projects. Truth be told, I might have given him the Oscar this year - it's so tough for me to choose between him and Sean Penn. He's every bit as awkward as you'd expect his hillbilly character to be. Inman is probably my favourite character of him, which is surprising since he's the most introverted. You don't expect him to be a good introvert, but the extroversion in Cold Mountain is left to Renee Zellweger and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Jude handles his role beautifully, though I admit I spent an undue amount of time waiting for him and Nicole to umm...get it on...and they were apart for sooooooo much of the movie. (I  demand a rematch.)

Is it because Dan is such a stealth meanie that this performance didn't catch on? Yeah, I'd have probably Oscar-ed him for this one too. He is my best-in-show, and I LOVE this movie. 2004 was supposed to be his year, he was downright impossible to avoid - I did love him in Sky Captain & the World of Tomorrow, that one's delightful amidst all the madness and woefully underrated.

The recent drought of any substantial Jude roles feels a bit like a broken promise, he's supposed to be getting more work by now. I'm hoping that Contagion and Hugo Cabret (with SCORSESE) take off, I'm a bit tired of waiting on this train to arrive. But, then again, it's Jude and his moments of perfection outweigh the current drought. I were to rank the five it'd be #5: Jerome, #4: Harlan, #3: Inman, #2: Dan and #1: Dickie.

                 

"Rapunzel" has long been one of the Grimm fairytales with the most scope for mature interpretations. The original tale features the potential birth of children out-of-wedlock, a terrible fate for the prince, and a villain who is not so much a one-note antagonist as much as a terribly overprotective parent which makes it a sort of ideal tale for Disney, which has long been concerned with the dynamic of parent and child (The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, The Princess & the Frog). When Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine adapted the piece for their potpourri of fairytales Into the Woods the story was given even more depth as Rapunzel grew from the world she became a sort of emotionally stunted woman kept in the tower under the pleas of the Witch – “stay with me”. In actuality, though, there is little about Tangled that is emotionally resonant, and this in itself is not incidental. From the onset of the ad-campaign for Tangled it was evident that the producers were more interested in a jaunty swashbuckling cinematic fare than in any sort of familial drama. And the problem is not that I have anything against the swashbuckling fare, but in its attempting at severely watering down a story that depends on emotional resonance Tangled fails to be anything more than merely satisfactory, and not even that at times.

True, I was already feeling dubious about the film since their title changed seemed intent on ensuring that the film would be just as “interesting” to boys as girls. It’s not just the title change, though, because Tangled is not about Rapunzel and this itself is not an issue – what destroys the film from being tonally consistent is that the divergent themes of Flynn and Rapunzel seem irreconcilable, and when screen-writer Dan Fogelman makes that half-hearted attempt to find some overreaching back-story to link the two it fails dreadfully. It’s the sort of typical adage that when you try to do too much, you end up with disastrous proportions. The best attempt the studio has made in a dual leads was Beauty & the Beast, but the reason that attempt worked was because of the relative exclusivity of their living arrangements the two stories complemented each other. Having Flynn be a robber intent on stealing the crown of the King & Queen who just happened to be Rapunzel’s true parents seems just a bit ridiculous.

It’s unfortunate that a talented voice like Donna Murphy is saddled with the character of Mother Gothel. What disappoints me most about the film is that a potentially multifaceted character is given no depth to explain her machinations. It seems a bit like regression on the part of Disney who have made a film that’s so safe it lacks charisma, and charm. Even Alan Menken’s score, composer of the very original Little Shop of Horrors, composes a score that’s beautiful and uninspired. True, the centre-piece number “I See the Light” is lovely (incidentally, the “Mother’s Knows Best” is a more interesting piece musically) but in the face of so many more superior films – even last year’s Princess & the Frog which was not exactly top-tier Disney felt much more inspired even though it was an about face from the original fairytale. In that vein, I could forgive Tangled for not being executed like I’d hoped – but I can’t forgive it for docility.

                                   

Further proof that I’m especially unreliable; I posted the last entry of Encore’s Greatest Voices in August. It’s now December and I’ve yet to give you the top 10 – until now. Excuse my general capriciousness, but here are the top 10 – finally.

There was something a little off about Susan Sarandon in Enchanted, and I still can’t put my house on it. She has a silky voice that has the potential to be unsettling, so perhaps it was the obvious villainy of her character that didn’t quite work. However, in James & the Giant Peach she uses her voice to create a character that may be evil, and then again might not be. There something especially exotic about her Miss Spider and she emerges from a varied cast of hilarious misfits as the most interesting.

                                            

If Addison DeWitt is proof of anything it’s that George Sanders can be unctuous and still appealing, and that’s essentially what Shere Khan is. There’s something chilling and yet alluring about his baritone voice, and his penchant for elongating vowels is just hilarious (but still disturbing). Shere Khan is not exactly the most rounded character, and he’s probably not the most interesting character in The Jungle Book, but Sanders voicework is still amazing.

                             

Ah, Streep. Yeah, I don’t go crazy over her every move like this guy (or this one) – or anyone really, but when she lands it – she’s phenomenal. Really, if I used to count animated performances eligible she’d have made my top 3 last year for Best Actress. There’s just something especially charming, witty and downright irresistible.

                          

In the face of Disney’s numerous villains I’m always surprised that Audley’s Maleficent is not remembered more often. Visually, she’s the most memorable to me and I have a slight hunch that every female animated villain uses her voice-work as a paradigm for their performances.

                               

Ursula is especially quotable, and especially frightening too; but she’s still also much fun. She’s still sort of pathetic in her own way, and Carroll milks it for all the delicious campiness it’s worth. A few call it their favourite, and I can’t fault them – she’s phenomenal.

                                 

Williams’ over-the-top, bipolar craziness works perfectly for the role. His name is not the in the film’s title, but the Genie’s hilarious nature is one of the most significant things about Aladdin. It takes the role of the chatty sidekick to another level and gives Williams a chance to use his voice-impersonations without being gratuitous.

                           

I always wish that Ellen would do more movies. Her off-kilter humorousness is a specific charm of hers, and like most comedians it’s found in her voice. Is Finding Nemo Pixar’s masterpiece? Maybe, though I don’t especially go crazy over it. But DeGeneres’ charm is irresistible, and she easily emerges as not only the greatest Pixar creation, character wise, but the greatest Pixar actor, voice wise.

                                

I really can’t account for how often Hercules is forgotten when one remembers Disney’s animation from the nineties and beyond. Perhaps, it’s the fact that the story has been told so often – but really, that logic seems a bit flawed – so I can’t be certain. Still, Egan’s Megan – a damsel in distress, who’s not quite a damsel but certainly is in distress, is a joy to watch/listen to. Her voice is just an octave lower than the typical Disney heroine, and with her questionable past she’s not a typical one really. It’s a shame she only gets one number, but she sells the dialogue just as wonderfully to.

I shall forever champion the brilliance that is Corpse Bride, it’s remembered for its visual brilliance, sometimes for its music but rarely for its acting which is top notch. It also happens to be my favourite HBC performance in a Burton film, which is not quite the backhanded compliment it sounds like considering some of the good things they’ve done together.

Predictable? Perhaps, but can you really blame me? Scar is the ultimate bad-guy, and perhaps it’s because I’m a stealth baddie myself (possible), but I find him too be – arguably – the most sympathetic character of the film. There’s just something poignant (even if in a clichéd way) about being the forgotten child, the eternal bridesmaid, and what not. And I’m damned if he doesn’t make even the most rote of lines resonate. (“I killed Mufasa, anyone?) So, Irons takes the crown for Encore’s Greatest Voice.

                              

So, now that I've finally revealed the list, which voices would rank at the top of your imaginary list of Greatest Voices?

Films with Multiple Mentions:

Aladdin (4): Linda Larkin (#32), Jonathan Freeman (#21), Scott Weinger (#20), Robin Williams (#5)

Beauty & the Beast (4): Angela Lansbury (#33), Robby Benson (#25), Richard White (#18), Paige O'Hara (#16)

The Lion King (3): James Earle Jones (#31), Robert Guillame (#23), Jeremy Irons (#1)

The Little Mermaid (3): Jodi Benson (#37), Samuel E. Wright (#13), Pat Carroll (#6) 

Hercules (3): Lilias White &co. (#22), James Woods (#15), Susan Egan (#3)

James & the Giant Peach (3): Richard Dreyfuss (#24), Simon Callow (#14), Susan Sarandon (#10)

Corpse Bride (2): Johnny Depp (#27), Helena Bonham Carter (#2)

The Fantastic Mr. Fox (2): Jason Schwartzman (#11), Meryl Streep (#8)

The Jungle Book (2): Phil Harris (#39), George Sanders (#9)

Sleeping Beauty (2): Barbara Luddy (#40), Eleanor Audley (#7)

Wallace & Grommit: Curse of the Were Rabbit (2): Ralph Fiennes (#46), Helena Bonham Carter (#35)

                         

Eleanor Audley: Cinderella (#42), Sleeping Beauty (#7)

Helena Bonham Carter: Wallace & Grommit: Curse of the Were Rabbit (#35), Corpse Bride (#2)

Glenn Close: Tarzan (#47), Hoodwinked (#34)

Robin Williams: Happy Feet (#44), Aladdin (#5)

Isn't Bernadette Peters amazing? I really wish that she could have made a viable career as a film actress, but that doesn't dilute her talent. The Disney remake of Rodger's & Hammerstein's Cinderella is very much light-weight, but still enjoyable and there's something genius like about having Bernadette as the evil (and very hot) Step Mother. God knows how she stays looking so young...

Screenplay awards at the Oscars are interesting. Sometimes it’s the “big” category they’re willing to reward a film that’s a bit too low-key to snag the real top prizes. Or sometimes it’s just that final hurdle for a Best Picture front runner to show that it has every intention of steamrolling all categories. Even if the value of the Oscar is big, and I admit grossly exaggerated, I don’t think that the voters are any less susceptible to the gaudy wiles of category machinations – like original screenplay. I’d bet money that there are people who place greater (and incorrect) emphasis on the adjective in the phrase. Really, the category – in theory – is looking for the best screenplay that comes from an original source, but there’s a feeling that people end up looking for the screenplay that has the most original (read: unusual) hook. Hence, Inception for all its flat characterisations – which, even lovers of the film have accepted – is probably headed for a nomination here. I don’t consider Nolan a significant threat to actually winning the award, though. I’m expecting Black Swan to join it there, even though that’s another film that’s especially buoyed by its screenplay – but, there you go.

Taking into consideration the fact that anyone voting will be more ready to accept the film being thrown at them there’s no doubt that films with an added chances of showing up in acting categories, and more importantly the best picture race, will thrive which means that The Fighter which has turned into the late bloomer of the season could very well be headed for a screenplay nod here. Four months ago I’d have effortlessly predicted Cholodenko’s The Kids Are All Right as the one to beat. True, the screenplay is especially understated in a beautiful, but it’s alternative comedic tones and continuous freshness makes it seem like an obvious contender, it still is – but at the moment it looks like best Picture hopeful (as in hopeful of winning, and not just being nominated) The King’s Speech seems like an especially likely contender. I’ve heard more than a few who’ve seen it credit the screenplay as the strong point, and witty British banter is never something the screenplay category is averse to.

The adapted screenplay is another story, like the original writing category the strongest contender is the film that seems most likely to tackle the Best Picture race – Sorkin’s The Social Network, by all indications it will be winning the category. It was only time before Sorkin managed to find the right film to work on to show off his obvious writing talents - Charlie Wilson’s War wasn’t quite it. After that it gets more difficult to me, by all indications I’d say that Rabbit Hole will be an obvious nominee here, I don’t see how any seeing this can resist the often brilliance of the screenplay. So, I’m predicting against what should be my better judgement. It seems Danny Boyle is headed for some Best Picture love so that only means that a screenplay nomination is logical to assume for his 127 Hours. I’d toss in Winter’s Bone and True Grit. I’m still not convinced that True Grit will be overly successful at the Oscars’ but the box-office success is something that voters might have in their mind...so, who knows?

We can always consider Get Low which could be a contender in the screenplay section – but I’m not sure I can see it taking any of the predicted five out, and if Shutter Island were getting more love it’d be a contender for adapted screenplay. Although I’d love to see them mentioned, I’m not silly enough to predict something like Animal Kingdom or The Ghost Writer. Shame, they’d be worthy nominees.

Not long into Black Swan Thomas Leroy, the director of a prestigious ballet company, tells us that his new performance of Swan Lake will be stripped down to the bare essentials. Creatively, the decision seems sound when you remember there’s no production as stereotypically indicative of ballet as Swan Lake; moreover, when you consider that Aronofsky’s film only has 100 minutes to give us his story. It’s an especially slight story – Nina is the prototypical driven ballerina, a girl determined to sacrifice all she can for her art, goaded to perfection by her sinister mother who is (in typical fashion) a failed ballerina (an archetype in itself). True to form, Nina’s precise over-consciousness is firmly paralleled by a lighter and more spontaneous dancer in the company whilst the director, every bit as suave and oily as you’d imagine seems to be courting every girl in the company.

 Notice my constant allusions to archetypes? It is not coincidental, in the same way that nothing Aronofsky does in the film occurs with spontaneity. There’s a dual natured issue at the heart of my reaction to Black Swan that I find especially confusing. Aronofsky’s constant literal mindedness and meticulousness of execution renders the  film evident as a drawing board for Nina’s own perfection (and self destructiveness). It’s his attempts to get inside the head of his lead that makes the camera movements, cinematography all decidedly internal as an indicative of Nina’s trouble. What troubles more, though, is that even as Aronofsky crafts an especially psychological drama there is a palpable divide between Nina and him, and ultimately the audience. Aronofsky surveys Nina’s “plight” – but it is from a distance and with less interest in Nina, the dancer, and more care for the blatant obviousness of the artist at the mercy of her art. By doing this, he  never robs us of missing the essential point to his tale – and he knows this. Nina’s struggle isn’t a new one, Barbara Hershey is so grotesquely made-up it’s not difficult to miss the harsh severity of a character that’s almost gaudily realised, but it robs the film of a soul. Nina doesn’t develop like a true character, but travels from moments of pain and suffering to more pain and suffering, and so on. Dramatically consistent, but ultimately stifling – which, perhaps, is his intent.

When it comes to falling into a deluge of overexposure Black Swan is nowhere near as ingratiatingly ubiquitous as Inception was in the summer. Like that much fared piece, I’ve avoided reviews even though I’m been unable to avoid the asides about it that certain top critics have made while perusing year-end top 10 lists. I remember keenly a critic being irked that another one could be more impressed with The King’s Speech than Black Swan. I haven’t seen the former, but I was already sceptical – because there’s that palpable feeling emanating from all things Black Swan like Eva Peron, “you must love me”. Portman, especially, has gained effusive praise but I’m slightly irritated that a significant portion of the praise rendered her way takes great pains to mention her six-month long struggle to transform into Nina, which only reminds me that garish transformations are so easily misinterpreted as strong acting.

Not that she isn’t fine in the role – the strongest compliment I can pay her (with a clear conscience) is that she does everything the script asks her to. She doesn’t bring anything especially individualistic to the role, and that’s not a problem in itself– but I’m moved to think that Portman’s own “good” performance only seems excellent because Aronfsky refuses to let her sell the role on her own. Perhaps, it’s a continuance of his continuing attention to the unsubtle. It’s not that cinema doesn’t call for ameliorations from music, and lighting to emphasise character but I get that feeling that the visual frenzy we’re thrust into intensifies what’s there so it emerges as more forceful than it really is. It’s as I noted in my write-up on Portman, she thrives in the quiet moments, which of course makes Nina’s problems with finding the “black swan” within more difficult. And once again, it’s possible to read the any fickleness in characterisation as an extension of the character and not a fault of Portman. When she shines brightest, though, it’s especially luminous – like a bathroom call from her mother which is a perfect portion of the film that’s incredibly personal and not at all pretentious perfectly encapsulating Nina’s isolation and loneliness. The sort of scene that makes that final confrontation between Hershey and Portman at the film close all to obvious – even if I’ll single out Hershey as the film’s best-in-show despite of (and not because of) the film’s visual intensity where she’s concerned.

What I fond oddest, though, is that despite its overt tendencies and dedication Black Swan seems especially devoid of passion, which makes me return to my supposition that the film is a stand-in for Nina’s issues which makes me wonder in retrospect if the obvious disinterest the film has for Nina is indicative of Nina’s own slight self-loathing for herself. There’s something inspired in framing the beautiful wide-shots of dancing against the ugly images of broken toes and bruised skin – but it’s just too easy to serve it to us an excuse for perfection because in all her deluded intensity I never get the feeling of overwhelming passion that Nina should feel about the task at hand - her dancing; ironically Hershey’s stoic mother seems to suggest more passion for the dance than Nina which gives her plight a feeling of forced dedication but lacking any true impetus. And, it’s sort of how Black Swan ultimately emerges austere and mannered, and graceful and svelte even when it’s interested in the basest of emotions and the ugliest portions of dance. But, when my adrenaline races it’s not for an honest interest in the story, but evidence of Aronofsky’s obvious skill for visual manipulation – which is admirable, but not exactly emotionally moving.

                                                

For ninety minutes Mother & Child, and what disappoints me is that the trapping of the stories prevent the brilliance of the performances from being adequately highlighted, because Annette Bening, Kerry Washington and Naomi Watts give three of the most eclectic performances I’ve seen all year.

Kerry Washington was the biggest surprise because I’ve been waiting so long for her to get a role worthy of her obvious potential and she brings such poignancy to her expectant mother it’s such a please to know that the promise of talent she’s been showing for so long has been made good on (even if no one cares to notice), and Naomi Watts pulls off a character that in theory shouldn’t work, especially for her. And, of course, Annette... Bening will always be striking for her ability to get in touch with abrasive characters and Karen’s outward prickliness is measured beautifully against her internal securities. I am smitten with her, but there are moments where it’s especially impressive watching her inhibit the character. I almost feel as if she and her co-stars do the film more justice than it deserves, because when it ends I have that palpable feeling that I’ve been played. 

It Mother & Child is emotionally manipulative, but it’s worth the manipulation if only to see performances – from the trimester of ladies all the way to Jimmy Smitts and Samuel L. Jackson. Jackson is so easily represent of the BAMF it's something satisfying to see him reign it all in and deliver a perfectly controlled performance. And it's so interesting how Cherry Jones' nun, forever on the outlines manages to carve a chracter that seems decidedly three-dimensional. Garcia might not be the wisest storyteller, but his ability to find the right way to bring out the good in his actors is something worth praising – even if it’s grudgingly.

                

In the face of constant aversion I’m still a hopeless fan of David Fincher’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I’ll desist from launching into another interminable diatribe on why it deserves praise, but I will say that one of the things I like about it – that’s quite obvious, but oh well – is gamut of characters covered. True, it’s almost a bildungsroman as all these characters unsubtly help Benjamin develop. I’m loath to picking favourites but – taking Ben, Daisy and Queenie out of the race, gun-to-my-head and I’d single out Tilda Swinton’s Elizabeth Allen who in a weird way emerges as one of the film’s most poignant characters even if she doesn’t really do anything.

           

This is a woman who visibly has a story to tell, that first meeting with Benjamin in the elevator is a lovely moment – what I love most is how Fincher frames Elizabeth as the antithesis of Daisy without ever making her a foil to that inevitable pairing. As a staunch fan of Cate, I don’t ever think of her while Elizabeth is on screen. I’ve never been able to submerge myself in the effusive love for Tilda across the blogoshphere; I haven’t seen enough of her work to. But her attention to subtleties is one of the things that defines her brilliance in The Curious Case of Benjamin, and although structuring Elizabeth’s story as one about swimming is a wee bit bland – I’d be most interested in seeing her do a variation on this character for the duration of an entire film. She has a knack for playing characters with harsher tones, and Elizabeth is no patsy – but there’s that palpable warmth emanating from her, I’d like to see Tilda get on that.

     

Previously
Natalie Portman expands her bit role from Cold Mountain

Patricia Clarkson takes centre stage, from her character Judy in Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Richard and Susan examine their marriage troubles from Babel

As long as I live I’ll always think of Colin Firth as the polar opposite of Ralph Fiennes. I’m perfectly aware that it dates back to me putting way too much credence in the duo they played over a decade ago in The English Patient– but when I weigh Fiennes’ austere cinematic countenance as against Firth’s easy joviality I can’t help it, which makes me just a little bit annoyed that Firth seems headed to that Oscar podium when such a future seems dubious for Fiennes. For, if there’s any British actor under 50 who should have been laurelled by now it’s Fiennes. Today’s his birthday, and watching over his credits I realise that he’s not done that many films – it just feels as if he has, but there’s ubiquity for you – and here are my top 5 performances of his.

“ I hate you, God. I hate you as though you existed”

                              

“I can't go home. Tessa was my home.”

                         

“The truth, Helen, is always the right answer.”

                      

                      

I’d have give him an Oscar for the top two, easily and at least nominated him for the others – but you know when I’m nepotistic towards someone how it gets. I’m still waiting for his adaptation of Shakespeare’s Coriolanus to be – the fact that he’s in a leading role and helming a film that just happens to star the absolutely luminous Vanessa Redgrave just makes me thrilled.

         

(I haven’t seen his acclaimed performances in either Spider or Land of the Blind, unfortunately.)