Showing posts with label Academy Awards Oscars Best Picture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Academy Awards Oscars Best Picture. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

The Racket (1928)



If I could point to one scene in The Racket that sums up the whole thing, it would be the first gun fight. Two rival gangs of mobsters, shooting it out in a bustling urban square—using, as their cover, several large trucks. On the sides of those trucks: the names of politicians. There’s an election coming up, you see.

Those trucks are rolling ads for men of high ideals. But inside them are men of violence. Wherever a politician goes, you can be sure there’s a crook along for the ride.

Friday, February 25, 2011

An Oscar Post... in which I make no predictions, but opine a lot


I don’t know which film is going to be crowned Best Picture on Sunday night, though I have my suspicions. My favourites never win anyway, so I don’t sweat it. Plus, it was AMPAS, not me, that once declared Gladiator the best film of the year. It takes more than one good pick to make up for that. What you’ll read below is simply my ranking, from one to ten, from first to last, from best to worst, of this year’s nominees.

The views expressed are mine, but I’d love to hear yours.


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1. Winter’s Bone
Director: Debra Granik

The bleakest nominee is also the best. Winter’s Bone is a movie without any obvious message, despite an Ozark setting that seems composed of social ills, from poverty to illiteracy to domestic violence; mental illness, drug abuse and organized crime. At the centre of this insanity is a remarkably sane teenage girl named Ree, possessed of great interior strength. She’s searching for her missing father; not out of longing, but out of necessity. If he doesn’t stand trial, they’ll lose the house.

Ree’s less interested in learning the truth than in doing what’s needed to keep her family fed. Her practicality and courage press her forward even as her quest grows dangerous. We care for her, but we admire her even more.

In a year when the woes of a New York City ballerina, a king, and a billionaire-to-be seem dominant in peoples’ minds, I’m far more compelled by this woman, blessed with more power and purpose than the three of them combined. Maybe that’s unfair. But I know that if Ree loses her house, at least four human beings will starve, for real. And she’ll be one of them, though for her, that would never be the point.