If I Picked the Winners: Best Picture 2003

     When I look at the slate of Best Picture nominees from 2003, it appears to have been a true high-water mark, or a crescendo if you rather, for the industries' "epic" films. While we still suffer from the aftershocks of Hollywood's obsession with "the epicness of epicdom" (two made up words, I know, but that's just how self-consciously epic these films are, ordinary words from the English language do not adequately describe them), in 2003, the tone still felt new and fresh, which not only allowed for successful box office receipts, but high critical praise as well (thus the Oscar nominations). In the years following, while the box office receipts may have remained consistent, Tim Burton's dreadful version of "Alice in Wonderland" is a prime example of this ongoing monetary success (thank you world for continuing to encourage this sort of garbage), the grades from critics and enthusiasts have slowly fallen away as the genre has become increasingly stale. In 2003 though, we had mostly good films from the genre in our rearview mirror ("Gladiator",  the first two "Lord of the Rings" films, and to a lesser extent, "The Patriot"), so the potential for the genre was promising and people were ready to bite on anything that had the slightest whiff of saga. This is why you see two films ("The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" and "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World") among the nominees with a colon in their title (a surefire sign of how epic a film is), and while "Mystic River" and "Lost and Translation" exist well outside the boundaries of the "epic" genre, I am tempted to throw in "Seabiscuit" into the "epic" mix as well.

     There may be no swords, bow and arrows, or large battle scenes in "Seabiscuit", but tonally it carries a lot of similarities to these films. The heavy use of cliches and conventionalities without the slightest sense of acknowledgment or self-deprecation, blatant ploys to smother the audience in sentimentalities, and exaggerated finales where everything comes down to "this one moment", plague all three of these films. This should really come as no surprise, seeing as how the "sports" genre and the "epic" genre are really parallels of one another (is a "game" not just a low stakes version of a "battle"?), and the tone of the modern day sports film has seen the same shift to overwrought drama that the epic has experienced in the last few years, which is why I include "Seabiscuit" in the group of epic films.

     Were there any superior alternatives to these epic films though? For any one year (including 2003), there is always a growing list of films from that year that I still wish to see, so while I haven't become the expert of "films in 2003" that I would like to be, I still feel I am able to answer this question with a definitive, "Yes"! As you may have ascertained from the opening paragraph, I am a tough critic of Tim Burton's recent films, but in a decade of average to sub-par work, the one shining exception to his recently abysmal output is 2003's "Big Fish", a delightful return to form about a son and his dying father's "tall tales", and a film superior to almost all of the Academy's nominations. Another film that I would have preferred to see as a Best Picture nominee over most of the actual nominees, is my favorite auteur's film, Quentin Tarantino, "Kill Bill Vol. 1". Other possible substitutes that I would have preferred over some of the nominees include the Harvey Pekar biopic, "American Splendor", the Jack Black rock comedy, "School of Rock", the small little dramedy about the life of a dwarf (pun absolutely intended), "The Station Agent", and the true story of the journalistically fraudulent life of Stephen Glass, "Shattered Glass". As always though, we must come back to reality, so let's get down to ranking the nominees.

5. "Lost in Translation"

     I feel a bit guilty putting this movie last, because I have the sneaking suspicion that if I watched it again, it would fare better than some of its fellow nominees. Having seen the film only once though, I have to judge it on my memory and how I felt at the time, thus the last place ranking. Now if your memory is a little fuzzy, or if you happened not to follow the daily press of the film the industry at the time, than you probably don't remember the critical darling that was "Lost in Translation". A small independent film (which is a little hard to swallow seeing that it stars Bill Murray and is directed by Francis Ford Coppola's daughter, Sophia) that made its name during the late summer by making the rounds on the festival circuit, the buzz for the film quickly grew across all of moviedom like wild fire through Southern California, and before you knew it, the critics had already filled in their one allotted Best Picture slot that they're allotted every year ("Sideways", a few years later, is the quintessential example of a "critic's pick" nomination). Unfortunately, I was not able see the film in theaters, which meant before I was able to make an unbiased opinion for myself, the film came with great expectations. By the time I rented it and finally got to see the the film with my own two eyes, it was fighting a losing battle. Unless Sophia was able to match some of her father's best work, which it most certainly didn't, the film was bound to disappoint.

     Set in Japan, the film explores the unlikely relationship between an older cantankerous sell-out actor (Bill Murray) and a young newly wed (Scarlett Johansson) who is already starting to feel buyer's remorse. The title is a play on words, for not only does it take place in a non-English speaking country, but the film's two protagonist are "lost" souls, without any true direction or ability to relate to their surroundings. Their bond becomes the only thing even close to resembling "living", as their time apart purposefully moves at a snails pace. The laborious effort of the film to illustrate the feelings of boredom and alienation become maddeningly obvious, just as it moments of happiness try too hard to encapsulate every ounce of the meaning of "care-free". Ironically, something may have been "lost in translation" from the big screen to the small screen, because I remember when the film was released as a dvd, film critic Roger Ebert, on his show "At the Movies", discussed the drastically different opinions on the film between people who had seen it in the theaters, and those who had only seen it on their television screens (those who saw it in the theaters like it, while those who saw it on television screens did not). Frankly, this would not surprise me, for somewhat counter-intuitively, seeing nothing happen on a large screen is always more alluring than watching the same thing on a small screen. If I had to hazard a guess as to why this is the case, I would think it has something to do with the simulated sense of solitude that occurs in a theater, that, even if you are literally home alone, can never fully be replicated sitting on a couch in a room in a building where you do many other things beside watching films. While at some point I would like to give this film another chance, as of now it is a boring attempt to make meaning out of boredom.

4. "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World"

     If you had never seen a trailer of the film, if you didn't know any of the actors involved (particularly Russell Crowe), and if you had no idea what the story of the film was about, you would still have everything you ever needed to know about the film simply from its title, "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World". Based on the novels by Patrick O'Brian, this Peter Weir film follows one British captain's determined chase of a French vessel around South America during the Napoleonic Wars. In reality, it's an excuse for Russell Crowe to once again yell at a bunch of men and reconfirm his ultimate alpha-male status, no matter how gay his costume in the film appears. At one point, Russell Crowe was the best actor in the business for me, and while I still think he is a talented actor, this was the first role where I began to feel uneasy about the trajectory of his career. While he was truly mesmerizing in "Gladiator", his role in "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World" was one, of what would turn out to be many, Maximus-redux performances. Obviously, for Peter Weir the film was more than the beginning downward spiral of Russell Crowe's career, but his intentions are all that more inspirational either. My guess is in his mind, Weir went about to make a "Captain Blood 2" of sorts, or in other words a modern day update to the Errol Flynn swashbucklers of the 1930's. To some, I'm sure that sounds like a great idea, and if you are one of those people, you probably will enjoy this film or did enjoy this film if you saw it. Personally, I am not a fan of the chauvinistic Errol Flynn and his films such as "Captain Blood", so the attempt to remake this type of film holds no allure for me.

     Even fans of the genre will notice the film does have some blemishes. One pet peeve of mine is films with meaningless inclusions of real historical figures, and while they give him a different a name, Paul Bettany's character in the film is very obviously suppose to be Charles Darwin. While Bettany actually does a good job portraying the character, there is just no need for his character in the first place, other than to say, "Look, it's a Charles Darwin character, that makes us historical." It feels like an annoying nudge in the ribs from some nerd who compulsively has to point out, "Huh, huh, it's the early 1800's just in case you didn't know". Yeah, I sort of guessed that fact when I noticed everyone is sailing around in boats instead of riding cars and flying planes. Then of course the film carries with it all the problems that these sort of epic's run into, but I think I detailed that well enough in the opening of the article, so I leave it be. At the time, I really wanted to like this film, but even at that early stage of the game, the tropes of the genre were beginning to wear thin. I could not then, and will not now, endorse this film.

3. "Seabiscuit"

     "Seabiscuit" is the most cliched and stereo-typical film of the bunch. It tells the "unbelievably true" story of a Depression-era down-on-his-luck businessman (Jeff Bridges), who, with the help of a down-on-his-luck horse trainer (Chris Cooper) and a down-on-his-luck jockey (Toby Maguire), train a horse who no one ever believed in to become the star of a nation, restoring hope to millions who had all be lost any shred of it during the dark days of the 1930's. If that isn't schmaltzy, I don't what is. Why then does the film not rank last among the nominees? Once again, for who knows how many times in cinema history, a film's actors are able to bail out a shaky premise and hackneyed direction to (partially) squeeze out a decent work of cinema. Bridges is really the heart of the movie, and he approaches his character (as usual) with a sense of compassion and sincerity that is infectious. As much as we know we are being manipulated to feel (to the extreme) the emotions of sorrow, pity, and then hope, and no matter how grating the film becomes stylistically, Bridges seems to elevate himself above this, pretending not to notice the dehumanizing nature of the prefabricated patterns surrounding him, finding something genuine. Chris Cooper as the the wise, old trainer, and Toby Maguire as the misunderstood young hot head, who has a passion for the sport, also due their part to correct the film's course. Ultimately, the valiant effort of the film's actors is not enough to save it from it's vices. The story of the underdog that everybody counted out has been told and retold so many times before, and the film follows this well-tread road so unabashedly, that any hope of finding an ounce of innovation is dashed almost immediately . The quality performances help the bitter medicine go down easier, and due create truly entertaining moments, but all this really means is that it is a slight notch ahead of the likes of "Lost in Translation" and "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World".

2. "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King"

     On one of his recent, likely cocaine-fueled rants, Charlie Sheen said something to the point that we should either, "Love violently or hate violently". In the case of "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King", I think I feel both simultaneously. To say the least, I have mixed emotions about the film (as I do with the trilogy). The third and final film adaptation of the series of books by J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" is without a doubt the best of the series. Since the whole series (films and books) is basically a glorified trek, finally getting to the destination gives the film an emotional gravitas and narrative freedom that the others lacked. The sense that we're being continually teased or dragged along finally ends. We finally stop feeling like we're running on a treadmill, and actually feel like we're getting somewhere.  With a running time of 201 minutes (3 hours and 21 minutes), like the previous two films in the series, the movie is unnecessarily long, and specifically, its action sequences are too long. While these video game style cut-scenes are entertaining for a time, and they're handled with craft and confidence, at around twenty minutes of digesting nothing but high-fantasy battle images, your brain begins to feel similar to how your stomach would after wolfing down twenty Twinkies, sick and craving something substantive. At times, there really is no other way to describe the sequences other than self-indulgent. To D&D (Dungeons and Dragons for those of you with nerd allergies) and World of Warcraft players, I'm pretty sure the term self-indulgent has no meaning for you, but for the rest of us, at some point enough is enough.

     My biggest problem with the film though is the trend it started in the action genre that everything had to be gaudy, opulent, larger-than-life, otherwise known as "EPIC". No longer could we have modest, but well executed, action films that didn't shoot for the moon and was satisfied with what it was. Everything turned (and continues to be) a game of one-up-manship, like some insane perpetual motion machine. This is likely due to the film's lack of humor. Everything that happens in the film is treated with the utmost seriousness, like a story from the Bible being recounted, which is hard to take in a film with hobbits, elves, and dwarfs. One of the brilliant things about the Star Wars trilogy (the original, not the prequels sadly) is the light tone that permeates the film. In particular, the nonchalant stylings of Harrison Ford's Han Solo serve to break up the mood and instill some humanity in what would otherwise be an alien world. After all this criticism, you may get the wrong picture that I don't like the final Lord of the Ring's films, and this is not the case. It's a great film, and I truly enjoyed watching it, but the Pandora's Box it opened has cursed it for years now, and I sometimes wonder if it was really worth the trouble it caused.

1. "Mystic River"

     If you've read my Top 100 articles, than you may know (but probably not since it would take a detailed look at the list to figure this out) that "Mystic River" is the only film from 2003 to make the list. It is no surprise than that it would top this list of five nominees. Clint Eastwood is a wildly inconsistent director, which is especially odd given his consistent (we're talking Old Faithful here) style. The reason that his films can vary so much even if his outlook doesn't, is that some stories naturally fit his plodding, measured sense of pace, while others (a story about a rugby team for instance, to randomly pull something out of the air) don't so much. Dennis Lehane's novel about three childhood friends who lives go off in different directions, only to cross again tragically later in their lives, is a perfect fit. The result is a wonderful slow-burn suspense drama that is one of the best in the genre. The mystery as to who murdered Jimmy Markum's (Sean Penn) daughter keeps us on edge enough that it allows the characters act dramatically and go threw terrible events without calling too much attention to itself. In turn, this prevents the film from becoming overbearing on the characters' world, allowing us to genuinely sympathize with them in a way that would not be possible had the puppeteer allowed us to see the strings. Eastwood's use of dark colors and lenses, in partnership with the film's bleak story and slow pacing, give the film a very appropriate gothic feeling as well. With the (at the time) unique blue-collar Boston setting, we really feel as if we have been transported to some self-contained nightmarish world, a true achievement for any director. Finally, the film has a excellent ensemble cast that has to rank as one of the best of the decade. From Sean Penn and Tom Robbin's Oscar-winning performances, to what should have been an Oscar-winning performance by Marcia Gay Harden, to the cop duo of Kevin Bacon and Laurence Fishburne, to Laura Linney's frightening performance as Sean Penn's devoted wife, there is a weak spot in the group. Given that the Academy felt a need to give an award for the cumulative work that was the "Lord of the Rings" Trilogy, I am not surprised it was the winning film, but I would bet if you really grilled members of the Academy about which single film they liked better, eventually they would admit "Mystic River" was the superior film.

     That's all for now, so if you have any observations or opinions about 2003, feel free to share them down below.