1942 – Henry Travers

1942 – Henry Travers

Mrs. Miniver

Henry Travers was a good actor.  I believe he is most famously known as Clarence from It’s A Wonderful Life, but he did a fantastic job here, too.  He had a very gentle manner about him that permeated his character.  He played Mr. Ballard, the local stationmaster, and one of the bell-ringers at the church.  His whole sub-plot in the film was a nice one.  He played the part of the common peace-loving man.  He was also a gardener who had grown a rose so beautiful that it rivaled the roses of the snotty aristocrat, Lady Beldon, which he names after the kind Mrs. Miniver.

Travers didn’t have a lot of screen time, but he made the most of what he had.  Right from his first appearance on the screen, he shows us a man who is meek and kind-hearted.  His manner is mild and polite.  He is the kind of man anyone would love to know.  And I have to think that this wasn’t just the way the character of Mr. Ballard was written.  Much of that came from the actor, and must certainly have been the way the man really was.  It seemed so natural for him.

His big scene was the one in which Lady Beldon is convinced that his rose deserves the top prize at a flower show, even though she has never lost since the flower show began.  When she announces his name as the winner of the silver cup, his surprise and disbelief rendered him speechless, and he could only stand when his friends propped him up.  As he slowly approached the dais, he was nearly in tears, and his abject humility as he accepts the cup was very touching.  Travers really did a great job in that scene.  I really believed his disbelief.

I’ve seen the film several times now, but this time I caught something I hadn’t remembered from previous viewings.  The final scene where the priest is naming off some of those who have died in the bombings, Ballard’s name is mentioned.  Apparently, his character died only two hours after winning the top prize in the flower show.  It made the ending of the film just that much more powerful and poignant.  Really paying attention to his performance in Mrs. Miniver makes me wonder what other kind of character Travers ever played in his career.  He was a good actor, and this was the perfect kind of role to earn him an Oscar nomination.

1942 – Walter Huston

1942 – Walter Huston

Yankee Doodle Dandy

I’ve been seeing this actor’s name pop up a lot more than I thought I would, and he always does a fine job. After seeing him in other films like The Devil and Daniel Webster and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, I am coming to know him as an actor who is able to inhabit the characters he plays.  He transforms into each role, creating unique and distinct characters that are always appropriate and usually memorable.  This script didn’t exactly give him anything dynamic to work with, but he does show another side of his performance skills.  He sings and dances, something I’ve never seen him do, though his dancing wasn’t as energetic or intense as his costar, James Cagney.

Here he played Jerry Cohan, the patriarch of a Vaudeville acting family.  His wife and two children were all there willingly and gladly.  They all loved performing on the stage and they loved performing as a family act.  In this, he played the part of a good father, supporting his children in their endeavors, and taking joy in their successes, while still maintaining a healthy ego, claiming that he was a better actor than his son, George Cohen.  He played Jerry as a kind man who loved his family.

There was one memorable scene where he needed to physically punish his son for messing up a golden opportunity for the family’s act.  It was a conscientious decision, which made me like the character even more.  And when his wife chimed in, saying, “Not on the hand, he has to play the violin!” and then, “Not on the mouth, he has to sing!”  He listened, saying, “”Here’s one place without any talent!” and proceeded to spank his bottom.  That was a fun scene.

And even though the script didn’t give him a lot of opportunity to be dramatic, I have to mention his death-bed scene.  He is old and dying, and his mind has taken him back to his younger days when they were all pounding the Vaudeville circuit.  He was delirious and Huston really sold the scene beautifully.  It was a sad and dramatic scene, probably the most dramatic scene in the movie, and Huston made me feel for Jerry in his final moment.  Huston did a fantastic job and he was clearly an actor that the Academy loved, as this was his third Oscar nomination, though it wouldn’t be his last.  His winning nomination would come six years later in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.

1941 – Donald Crisp (WINNER)

1941 – Donald Crisp

How Green Was My Valley

This movie has gotten some pretty heavy flack for not being a worthy Best Picture winner.  But because of outstanding performances from the cast, I believe that not only were all the accolades deserved, I think, even today, that it was a valid winner.  In writing all my reviews for Oscar winning and nominated films, I’ve had to watch this supposedly unworthy film several times, and each time I enjoy it more.  And every time I see Donald Crisp playing Gwilym Morgan, I am reminded of just how powerful his performance was.

He was the stoic and religious patriarch of the family.  He was father to six boys and one girl.  He was stern, and yet loving, proud and passionate, and yet tender-hearted.  Not only was his performance deep and insightful, but it was written well.  This is what makes an Oscar-worthy performance and I completely agree with his win.  It was very well-deserved. 

He clearly understood the character, his motivations, and his passions.  The role allowed him to explore emotional depths that are just as powerful today as they were in the 1940s.  He was a coal miner who took pride in his work and in his family.  And when the changing times became hard on the mine, and the politics of the region pulled his family apart, he did his best to maintain his integrity and his ethics.  And yet, as would have been proper for the times, he did his best to keep his emotions contained, to be the strong rock that held his family together.

Crisp’s performance had plenty of drama and pathos.  Every time I watch the film, I am drawn in and captivated by the way he carries himself, the strong yet gentle way of him, and his love for his wife and children.  I love how the Bible was Gwilym’s anchor, and how, when dealing with conflict with his sons, he never yelled or scolded.  There seemed to be love in his every word.  It just made his death scene that much more emotional, more tragic.  When I look at the list of Best Supporting Actors for 1941, Donald Crisp stands out to me as the clear winner and I imagine that this one was a no-brainer to the Academy voters.  It certainly was to me.  It is because of this movie that I always love seeing him on the screen.

1941 – Sydney Greenstreet

1941 – Sydney Greenstreet

The Maltese Falcon

Am I being too critical, to judgmental?  Here we are with another actor nominated for an Oscar, and once again, I am questioning his nomination.  I mean, he was good, but not great, and I want something great.  There just wasn’t much to his character.  He only showed up about half-way through the film, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but his on-screen time to impress me was limited. 

He only had two or three facial expressions that he kept recycling.  Playing the character of Kasper Gutman, Greenstreet went from serious to mildly amused, to frustrated, and that was about it.  He was not given a wide range of emotions to explore, nor were any of his scenes particularly intense.  He seemed personable enough for the bad guy, but his men, Joel Cairo and Wilmer Cook were more menacing than him.  But maybe that was just how the character was written.  Maybe I can’t lay that all on Greenstreet’s shoulders.

Still, he had an affable enough on-screen persona with a personable smile and a disarming attitude.  I suppose that made him interesting to watch.  But even at the climax of the plot, I think I wanted more from him.  He has been pursuing the fabled Maltese Falcon for seventeen years.  He finally has the statuette in his hands.  But within seconds, he learns that it is a fake.  Then, without missing a beat he laughs it off and says that the quest continues.  One would think that a man with such an obsession would be more angry at learning that the time and money he spent trying to find the Falcon were all for nothing.  But no.  He chuckles, shrugs it off, and leaves to return to Constantinople.  Written that way?  Yes.  But I still think I wanted a more powerful reaction than I got.

Two final thoughts about Greenstreet’s performance.  First, he wasn’t bad in the roll, but I don’t think the roll was worth the nomination.  Second, the original ending of the novel might have enhanced his character.  In both the movie and the book, Gutman leaves with Cook and Cairo.  That’s the end of it, except to imply that the police are going to arrest the trio.  But in the original novel, Cook kills Gutman, presumably because he was willing to make Cook the fall-guy for all the murders, even the ones he didn’t commit.  That could have been a cool scene, and at least Greenstreet could have had a cool death scene.

1941 – Charles Coburn

1941 – Charles Coburn

The Devil and Miss Jones

First of all, this nomination was for the wrong category.  If anything, Charles Coburn should have been nominated in the Best Actor category.  After all, he was the lead character in the story, and was in no way a supporting character.  The movie started with him, followed his character arc, and ended with him.  But all you have to do is look at the poster to see that this movie was a vehicle for Jean Arthur, even though she was by far the supporting character.  In fact, if you read the two sentence synopsis of the film on Wikipedia, Jean Arthur’s character isn’t even mentioned.  “The plot follows a department store tycoon who goes undercover in one of his Manhattan shops to ferret out union organizers…”

He started off a mean old rich man that nobody liked, and about fifteen minutes into the movie, turned into a nice enough guy that a few people liked.  But by the end, he was a happy, generous man who everybody liked.  And Coburn played it all pretty well.  Unfortunately, the script really made the transitions between these three phases too abrupt and out of the blue.  One minute he wants to fire everyone in his department store, the next, he is ready to fight for their rights.

But I’ll say again that Coburn played all three aspects of Mr. Merrick very well.  He was able to be the stern wealthy man who is angered when he learns of union workers that are protesting his treatment of them as employees.  Coburn played Merrick as grumpy, mostly coming from the eyes.  But after he takes a job as a salesman in his own store, he gets to know the union people, and actually falls for one of them.  Then his eyes got softer and more sympathetic.    And finally, once it is time for his ruse to end, he took on a wide-eyed expression that made him look like a slightly confused, kindly old grandpa.

Coburn did a good enough job, and I suppose I don’t mind his nomination.  But I just have to think that if he’d been put in the correct category, he wouldn’t have been nominated for anything, not when I consider the competition in the Best Actor category.  Gary Cooper, Carey Grant, Walter Huston, Robert Montgomery, and Orson Wells.  All that is to say that he was good, but not great, and there was no shame in losing the Best Supporting Actor Oscar to Donald Crisp in How Green Was My Valley.  That one would have been a hard one to beat.

1941 – James Gleason

1941 – James Gleason

Here Comes Mr. Jordan

Much like Robert Montgomery’s Best Actor nomination, I don’t really get why James Gleason’s performance was so highly regarded, though at the same time, I think Gleason deserved his nomination more than his costar.  The movie is a light-hearted comedy, a genre that is often overlooked when it comes time for awards.  .  Gleason played a supporting character who seemed to be, at times, a bit of comic relief.  And to be fair, I think he was actually the funniest part of the movie, which, unfortunately, isn’t really saying much.

He played Max “Pop” Corkle, Joe Pendleton’s boxing manager.  After Joe Dies in a plane crash and comes back as a rich investment banker and tries to tell Max who he really is, Gleason’s “You’re who?  Sure you are, buddy.  And who’s the invisible angel you’re talking with?  Let’s get you back to the loony bin,” act was perfect.  But it doesn’t take long for him to be convinced of Joe’s real identity, and he finds himself trying to negotiate with the invisible angel.

It was a silly movie, and fortunately, it was clear that the actors weren’t taking any of it too seriously.  But Gleason stood out, making his performance just enough over-the-top, as was necessary in a comedy, to be amusing.  None of the comedy was really outrageous or in your face, but it was all pretty inoffensive and innocent. 

But then in the last few scenes in the movie, his character actually took a turn for the dramatic.  When Joe’s new body is murdered, he is given word that Joe has been given yet another body.  He goes to meet the new Joe, and is ready to resume his relationship with his friend, only to discover that while Joe may be the man in Murdock’s body, he has no memory of his past lives, no memory of his good friend Max Corkle.  I think this is where Gleason earned his Oscar nomination.

The mix of disappointment and grief at losing his friend a second time seemed to really hit him hard.  There was also a sense of loss as he is once again disconnected from the supernatural, and his world becomes mundane again.  There was some genuine emotion on his face that was unmistakable.  Gleason did a fine job in that brief final scene.  But unfortunately, because of how his part was written, and not through anything the actor did or didn’t do, I think it was too little, too late.  Gleason did a good job with what he was given.  He just wasn’t given much.

1941 – Walter Brennan

1941 – Walter Brennan

Sergeant York

Here we are once again with Walter Brennan.  This is his fourth Best Supporting Actor nomination in the last six years.  This guy was on a roll and it was clear that the Academy loved him.  But I have to say, this wasn’t my favorite character for him.  There just wasn’t much to him.  He played a sweet, kindly old man, and that was about it.  There was no real drama, not much depth.  It’s almost like the Academy voters nominated him just because it was him. 

So he played the part of Pastor Rosier Pile.  One might say that he was the emotional catalyst of the film.  It was his teachings that led the errant York to become a fervent Christian, and eventually the hero of World War One.  He was simple country Pastor, who was kind, wise, and passionate.  Unfortunately, he was written as a one-dimensional, flawless, saint of a character.   And to my mind, that means that the actor had very little room to show off any of the great acting skills that he was known for.  Brennan was capable of far more than the role demanded. 

That isn’t to say he did a poor job.  I just don’t think the role itself was worthy of an acting nomination.  I much preferred his work in The Westerner or Kentucky.  In those films, he had dimension and depth.  So then I have to ask myself, what scenes in Sergeant York allowed Brennan to do some of his acting skills?  There are three that immediately come to mind. 

First, when York’s mother comes to the General Store for supplies.  Pastor Pile gently consoles her for having a rowdy son, and agrees to have a talk with him.  But that scene was more about Mother York, not the Pastor.  The second is when he talks to Alvin, telling him that religion might come a-calling like a bolt of lightnin’, when ye ain’t even expectin’ it.  He was good there.  And the third is when Alvin actually comes to the church.  He and the congregation are singing Give Me That Old Time Religion.  Suddenly he turns into a fervent Pentecostal Evangelist, getting Alvin on his knees before God. 

But that was about it, unless you consider the short sequence in which he tries to get Alvin out of the draft as a conscientious objector.  But that was more about Alvin than him.  I guess my point is that Brennan was worthy of the nomination.  The role of Pastor Pile wasn’t.

1940 – James Stephenson

1940 – James Stephenson

The Letter

James Stephenson did an adequate job.  He played the part as it was written with sincerity, though he didn’t appear to have much to work with.  This wasn’t the actor’s fault.  Nor was it entirely the fault of the script.  The director had a little to do with how I saw the actor in this film.  I have three thoughts when it comes to why I don’t really agree with his nomination. 

First is that Stephenson seems to suffer from what I sometimes call British emotional subtlety syndrome.  British emotions are usually down-played so much that you’d think they didn’t have any strong emotions in them at all.  So he is a lawyer who is defending a murderess.  Her story is that she killed in self-defense.  But he learns that story is all a lie.  It is when he learns the truth that he begins to go on his dramatic character arc.  Rather than allowing her to be convicted, he buys the damning evidence and keeps it out of the trial. 

At best, this puts his career in jeopardy.  At worst, it gives him a guilty conscience.  The few times when his emotions come close enough to the surface to be seen is probably what earned Stephenson his Oscar.  But really, even those moments were subtle to a fault.  For example, during the trial, he lies through his teeth, proclaiming his client’s innocence. He pauses once or twice in his closing arguments, and you can see him sweating.  But that was about it.  The problem is that, though the dramatic emotion was there, I really had to look for it. 

The second thing had to do with the way his character was filmed by the director.  I think he spent more time with his back to the camera then he did his face to it.  He was in scenes where he wasn’t the focus of what was happening, or even what was being said.  It was a disservice to the actor, and it didn’t help his performance.

But the third thing that I think took away from his performance was the script.  He was just written as an emotionless man, so I guess in that respect, he played the part well.  It just made him a little uninteresting to watch on the screen.  In the end, his performance was good, but maybe not worthy of an Oscar nomination.

1940 – Jack Oakie

1940 – Jack Oakie

The Great Dictator

Jack Oakie had a really difficult task to accomplish in this movie, and I think he handled it perfectly.  He had to go up against Charlie Chaplin.  It must have been pretty daunting to try to keep pace with such a legend.  But he pulled it off, and created a memorable character.  And honestly, I think he was just as funny as Chaplin.  The character of Benzino Napaloni was a parody of Benito Mussolini, with a touch of Napoleon Bonaparte thrown into the mix.

He actually doesn’t have a lot of screen-time, but when he was on the screen, he was a bit of a scene stealer, and that’s saying something, again, when he shared the screen with Chaplin.  There was a confidence about him that demanded attention.  And it was necessary for the character.  He needed to be just as much of a megalomaniac as his partner in crime, Adenoid Hynkel.  He was just as self-obsessed, just as maniacal, and most importantly, just as silly.  In fact, I’d even say that the two men had a really great on-screen chemistry.  They really knew how to play off of each other to create some really funny scenes.  I particularly liked the running gag each time they tried to shake hands.  One would extend his hand while the other would raise it in the Nazi salute.  Each realizing their mistake, they would both switch at the same time, back and forth, back and forth.  Yeah, it was a little corny, by today’s standards, but I can’t deny that it was still funny. 

And just as Chaplin had that fast-paced silly German accent and nonsense dialogue, so too did Oakie have to deliver all his lines just as rapidly, but with an Italian accent.  You see, I don’t think he, or Chaplin, for that matter, were making fun of Italians or Germans.  They were making fun of Mussolini and Hitler.  And they weren’t just making fun of them.  They were making political statements, calling real dictators buffoons. 

So here’s the thing.  While I know that Jack Oakie did a fantastic job, I have to ask if his performance was so outstanding as to warrant an Academy Award nomination.  And the short answer is… I don’t know.  Did the actor deserve the recognition?  I think so.  Did the role itself deserve it?  Maybe not.  An Academy Award nomination should be a good blend of a well-written character and a skilled actor.  And Benzino Napaloni was written to be silly, which is difficult to translate into intense or powerful.  And the more I think about it, Chaplin was able to pull it off.  The script just didn’t give Oakie enough time or range to do the same thing.

1940 – William Gargan

1940 – William Gargan

They Knew What They Wanted

This movie surprised me in several ways.  First, the story was much more dramatic than I was expecting.  Second, Charles Laughton turned in a really wonderful performance, and third, William Gargan played a complete jerk so perfectly.  I’ll say right off the bat that he deserved his Oscar nomination.  The role was not an easy one to play, and I thought he did a fine job.

He played the part of Joe.  There were times when I thought he was the main character of the story, but at the end, I came to understand that he was put into the correct category.  Joe was a self-proclaimed drifter who cared only for himself.  He was a lady’s man who did what he wanted when he wanted and never thought about the consequences.  But when he gets his best friend Tony’s bride-to-be pregnant, he has a moment of responsibility where he asks the girl to marry him instead.  She blames him for bringing out the worst in her, as she has actually fallen in love with her fiancée.  She slaps Joe hard and refuses him, and he seems more relieved than anything else.  Still the shock on his face was well-played.

Then when Tony learns the truth, he beats the crap out of him, and he is so ashamed, he just stands there and takes it.  Then he runs away into the night, and that’s the last time we see him.  Joe’s emotions were complex and fluid, and Gargan did a pretty good job moving through them quickly and without much transition.  And the drama got pretty deep.  Yes, Laughton and Lombard were seasoned actors and clearly knew what they were doing, but Gargan, though less well-known than his costars, also had a long list of acting credits behind him, and ahead of him, for that matter.

I don’t know exactly what I was expecting in this movie, but I was quite pleasantly surprised, and Gargan was a big part of that.  I guess he was really the bad guy of the movie, though not really.  He was a victim of lust, a vice that many people have.  And Gargan had just the right look for the part.  He was handsome, but not too handsome, smarmy, but oddly charming at the same time.  He had a devil-may-care attitude, but underneath, he hid a kind heart.  He was neither fully bad nor fully good.  He was just irresponsible.  And Gargan brought all this out through his attention to those emotional complexities that the role required.  Well done!