Movie Box Review

It's a measure of how desperately this year's Oscar needed some kind of surprise that the closest thing to a thrill all evening was Meryl Streep's win as Best Actress.  Streep has been winning Academy Awards since 1979, and she'd been touted for her performance as Margaret Thatcher since months before THE IRON LADY even opened.  By virtually every measure, she'd been a close 2d to Viola Davis as favorite all along.  One could even make the argument that choosing Streep over Davis was actually the more conservative move in the category.  (And a bittersweet one, because although Streep--despite her protestations--will almost certainly have more chances at the prize before she's done, it might not be so easy for Davis to climb that hill again.)  And yet, when Streep's name was announced, it was the night's only jolt of electricity:  Something Finally Happened!

Streep's victory also underscored, for anyone who doubted, that Harvey Weinstein is the master of his era's (maybe any era's) Oscar gamesmanship.  Streep had been a strong contender for THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA and for JULIE AND JULIA, and both times she'd been denied.  Iron Lady was the least successful, least-seen and least-liked of Streep's recent vehicles, but Weinstein's absolutely unapologetic willingness to play the card of "winning 29 years ago is like not winning at all," stressed in every Streep-for-Best-Actress ad, did the trick.  

Weinstein was also behind another surprise, the victory of UNDEFEATED for Best Feature Documentary over the favored PINA and PARADISE LOST 3.  (He can't claim the night's below-the-line shocker when THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO took Best Editing.)  And of course, he was the architect of the night's most inevitable set of victories, as THE ARTIST marched to the podium every time it really counted.

Apart from the Weinstein brigade, the Oscars were mostly widely scattered, as THE DESCENDANTS, THE HELP and MIDNIGHT IN PARIS each won a single award, Christopher Plummer took his unofficial lifetime achievement prize, and HUGO went home with all the awards no one cares about.

Ironically, 2012 will probably be the wrong year to be Harvey Weinstein's touted entry for Best Picture:  after THE KING'S SPEECH and The Artist in consecutive years, the Academy may go out of its way to show its independence from his hegemony.  But if there's any certainty in the Oscar universe, it's that he'll be back.

Here's your complete set of Oscar winners:

This year's Academy Awards have so far engendered the kind of enthusiasm and excitement usually associated with a suburban DMV office on a Tuesday afternoon.  People seem to be sullenly resigned to the inevitability of THE ARTIST's victory, even though it would be unlikely to get anything like a majority of the Academy's estimated 5000 votes--but with the Best Picture vote split 9 ways, it doesn't need to come anywhere near that (the winning movie could theoretically take the award with only around 556 votes).  In any case, no unified opposition has formed in favor of any particular competing film, and the same apathy exists in almost every other major category.  At this rate, we might as well be talking about presidential politics.  

Are the Oscars really doomed to be this dull?  (ABC certainly hopes not, or this could be the lowest-rated ceremony in history.)  Is there no possibility for any unexpected moments of shock or even mild surprise?  Let's take a look.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY:  As Mitch Metcalf noted in his survey of Oscar wagering odds, this is one category where The Artist is at a disadvantage (odds of 2:1), probably because as a silent movie, its intertitles don't provide much in the way of sparkling dialogue.  There are many who would like to see Woody Allen get some recognition for his late-career renaissance with MIDNIGHT IN PARIS, and that's currently the 2:5 favorite.  The other nominees MARGIN CALL, A SEPARATION and BRIDESMAIDS are all likely of the "be happy you're nominated" variety, although lovers of longshots might want to consider a wager on Bridesmaids at 23:1--it's by far the biggest hit of the group, and somewhat trendy after its critics' awards.  CHOICE:  Margin Call.  PREDICTION:  Midnight In Paris.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY:  No one particularly cares about this category this year, but it's one of the very few to be fairly wide open.  THE DESCENDANTS is the favorite at 2:5 because of its perceived stature in the Best Picture race, and because with its polished dialogue it feels "written," but strictly as a work of adaptation, MONEYBALL, at 4:1, probably deserves to win, and its script is by the all-star team of Aaron Sorkin and Steven Zaillian.  There's also increasing sentiment pointing to HUGO at 5:1, another tough adaptation from a children's picture book.  TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY, which deserves its place, and THE IDES OF MARCH, which doesn't (it's actually weaker than its source material), are probably just along for the ride.  CHOICE AND PREDICTION:  Moneyball.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:  Here's where things get easy, and thus somewhat tedious.  Octavia Spencer is an overwhelming 1:20 favorite for THE HELP, and no other nominee seems to have a prayer of catching her.  Those who believe the Academy will utterly genuflect to The Artist may want to take a chance on 2d choice Berenice Bejo at 9:1, but 2011 It Girl Jessica Chastain will be back again to win in some future year, and Melissa McCarthy and Janet McTeer, with 2 of the year's most distinctive performances, will have to be content with their nomination certificates.  CHOICE:  Jessica Chastain.  PREDICTION:  Octavia Spencer.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:  Did the Academy bother to nominate anyone besides Christopher Plummer?  Oh, they did?  At 1:25, Plummer is the biggest favorite in any major category, and since unlike racehorses, actors can't be disqualified from a race for bumping another nominee or falling down and breaking their leg, he's pretty much unbeatable.  In another year, he and  Max Von Sydow (at 19:1) might have split the lovable old codger vote, but Plummer's accumulated industry goodwill just outweighs Von Sydow.'s  That leaves Kenneth Branagh (9:1) out of luck. Nick Nolte, while no longer young, isn't yet at the old codger stage of his career, and Jonah Hill is just in the promising newcomer stage of his.  CHOICE:  Max Von Sydow.  PREDICTION:  Christopher Plummer.

BEST ACTRESS:  There was a time when this looked like a real race between Meryl Streep and Viola Davis, but Davis has plunged ahead like Secretariat at the Belmont.  The current odds of 5:6 for Davis and 1:1 for Streep are misleadingly close, although one can never count out Harvey Weinstein and his none-too-subtle campaign bellowing the 29 years since Streep last won.  Michelle Williams might as well have gone lame down the stretch, Glenn Close picked the wrong year to seek a lifetime achievement award, and Rooney Mara is this category's Promising Newcomer.  CHOICE:  Michelle Williams.  PREDICTION:  Viola Davis.

BEST ACTOR:  The closest we're going to come to an exciting result this year.  George Clooney (1:2) is, well, George Clooney, as well-loved as anyone in Hollywood and with a solid stack of critics' awards to back him up this year.  Jean Dujardin (6:4) is the star of the probable Best Picture winner, and quite a charmer himself, plus he has the added degree of difficulty of performing silently (if there's one thing the Academy loves, it's degree of difficulty).  The fact that Dujardin shockingly won the SAG award means that either he has this sewn up, or that it was a reality check for Clooney's supporters, who realized they'd better get their votes in or risk blowing it.  Could Brad Pitt sneak in there at 18:1 for a universally-respected performance in a lower-profile film?  Probably not, but if this were a horserace, you'd want to include him on your exacta tickets.  Gary Oldman is a less likely sleeper at 22:1, especially because Tinker Tailor never really took off at the boxoffice.  Demian Bechir, while no newcomer, gets the Hey, We Just Noticed You slot.  CHOICE:  Brad Pitt.  PREDICTION:  George Clooney.

BEST DIRECTOR:  The smart money at 1:6 says that as Best Picture goes, so does Best Director, and that's probably right, clearing the way for Michel Hazanavicius to make his triumphant way to the podium.  If Martin Scorsese hadn't won just 6 years ago, this year would certainly be his, but he did, making his 4:1 odds probably overly optimistic.  Alexander Payne isn't the kind of showy director likely to win if his movie doesn't, so 13:1 sounds about right for him.  Terrence Malick, on the other hand, is both adored and disdained by passionate viewers on each side, and THE TREE OF LIFE wasn't enough of a hit to break him out of his art-house cell.  Those with some spare cash might want to consider Woody Allen, a huge longshot at 35:1 who's coming off the biggest hit of his career.  CHOICE:  Martin Scorsese.  PREDICTION:  Michel Hazanavicius.

BEST PICTURE:  Well, here we are.  Harvey Weinstein has, as is his wont, run an absolutely brilliant campaign for The Artist, successfully obscuring the fact that audiences in general haven't been taken by it, and playing up every conceivable voter-friendly angle.  (My favorites:  the ad emphasizing that Artist was the only Best Picture nominee to be shot in Los Angeles, and the screening hosted by producer Thomas Langmann strictly so Langmann could couple the film with The Two Of Us, the 1967 Best Foreign Film winner directed by Langmann's father Claude Berri, so that The Artist could magically be linked in voter minds with the older film's storyline of a Jewish boy rescued from the Nazis by an elderly gentile--Jews, children, the Holocaust and a lovable old codger, all in one neat package!)  The movie's 1:6 odds are well-earned.  Could anything beat it?  The 2d choice is The Descendants at 6:1, a movie that has gathered no head of steam whatsoever, and after that is the huge money-loser Hugo at 14:1 (remember, Scorsese had his victory lap 6 years ago).  Those looking for something, anything, to take the prize should probably concentrate on The Help at 18:1, the only genuine boxoffice hit of the nominees and winner of the SAG ensemble award (but the fact that the picture couldn't even get nominated for Best Director or Adapted Screenplay shows how tenuous its support probably is).  War Horse, a disappointment in every way, is somewhat puzzlingly next at 26:1.  Then the unlikely Midnight In Paris, Moneyball and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close follow at 55-59:1, and at the rear is the aesthete's dream, The Tree of Life at 73:1.  CHOICE:  Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.  PREDICTION (reluctantly):  The Artist.

Sigh.  Yawn.  We'll look in on the Oscar race again as we get closer to the big night... if we can find the energy.

There's not much to add about the weekend grosses that hasn't been said (see Mitch Metcalf's round-up report here), so let's take a look at who, apart from the studios themselves, did and didn't have a fun weekend:

Women of THE HELP:  Emma Stone isn't likely to get Oscar consideration for her performance, being the "White Actress in an African-American Story" (for a particularly egregious example of this criticism, see Patrick Goldstein's column today--as a rule of thumb, if you have to cite Armond White as back-up for your argument, you may want to rethink the debate).  But she's still the biggest name in a smash hit, and her supporting role in the sleeper CRAZY STUPID LOVE doesn't hurt either--assuming that the Spider-Man reboot doesn't go splat next summer, she'll have as much claim as anyone to the currently vacant title of America's Sweetheart.  Meanwhile, Viola Davis has a big decision to make:  campaign for the Oscar as Best Actress (which she might not win, but just being nominated could bring her to a new level in the industry) or Supporting (where she would have a serious chance at victory)?  Her decision will directly impact co-star Octavia Spencer, who has a much better chance of making the cut in Supporting with Davis in the leading category.  (There's also the chance Sissy Spacek could pull a Supporting nomination for her tasty little role as Bryce Dallas Howard's mother, but probably not--see "White Actress in an African-American Story," above.)  Not in the same gender pool but still a Winner is director Tate Taylor, who went from being utterly unknown to the man behind a giant success, without having to direct music videos or make a stop at Sundance.

Expanders:  Several limited releases widened their runs this weekend with generally good results.  SARAH'S KEY made $3900 at each of 201 theatres; THE GUARD did $5200 at 83; THE WHISTLEBLOWER, $3200 at 44; and SENNA, $12K at 14.  (THE FUTURE did less well, with $2K at 32.) 

Andy Serkis:  He probably won't get that Oscar nomination for his motion-capture performance as Caesar the chimp.  But when Fox starts its campaign on his behalf, no one will be laughing.

Avi Lerner:  You may never have heard of him, but he's produced 243 movies for his Nu Image and Millenium studios, most of them proud--and often profitable--pieces of low-budget schlock.  (Righteous Kill?  The Nicolas Cage remake of The Wicker Man?  Those were his.)  He had a breakout hit last year with The Expendables, and this year CONAN THE BARBARIAN was supposed to provide him with his first real franchise, at an expensive-for-him cost of $70-90M.  Now the movie will have to hope for huge overperformance overseas just to break even (although no doubt Lerner's own investment is covered by pre-release guarantees, from distributors who may not be his biggest fans today).

Bob Weinstein:  His Dimension genre brand was supposed to fund brother Harvey's swings for the Oscar fences.  But this week's disastrous reboot of SPY KIDS follows the disastrous reboot of Scream earlier this year; coming soon is another "found footage" horror movie with Apollo 18, and then a second chapter in the Piranha series, which didn't do all that well ($25M) the first time.

Anne Hathaway:  Remember that currently-vacant position of America's Sweetheart?  It wasn't so long ago that the job seemed Hathaway's for the taking, but the past year or so hasn't gone so well.  It's not that Hathaway is giving bad performances, or even choosing terrible movies (Love and Other Drugs was a tonal mess, but still entertaining, and One Day is a respectable failure)--she just seems to be pushing too hard, nowhere more so than during her painful-to-watch Oscar gig.  The Dark Knight Rises isn't likely to do much more for her than previous installments did for Katie Holmes or Maggie Gyllenhaal (odds are that Tom Hardy will be the movie's Heath Ledger and she'll be Aaron Eckhart), but that's OK as long as her Catwoman doesn't actually hurt the picture.

Colin Farrell:  After paying some dues with his fine performances in little films like In Bruges, Crazy Heart and Ondine, Fright Night was supposed to be Farrell's first step back to commercial viability--but even with good reviews, it turned out no one cared.  Up next is the much more expensive remake of Total Recall, whose producers can't be feeling too comfortable now that this week's Conan reboot fell flat on its face.

Openers:  Nothing much was happening in the arthouses this weekend.  John Sayles' AMIGO could only muster $4K per theatre in 10 despite guest appearances from Sayles and the actors, and MOZART'S SISTER wasn't much better with $4700 in each of 7.  The one seeming exception is misleading:  Kevin Smith's RED STATE pulled in $26K in a single LA theatre as part of its Oscar-qualifying week (it seems the picture, despite its massive Sundance hoopla, is going to VOD next month and may never have a conventional theatrical release), but that number was boosted by a Q&A with the motormouth maestro at every show.

THE HELP is--and I mean this in a good way--a big-screen Hallmark Hall of Fame.   It's a long, absorbing, emotionally satisfying piece of mainstream Hollywood moviemaking that skims the surface of its difficult subject--the life of black maids and nannies in the pre-Civil Rights era South--in a way that used to win Best Picture Oscars back in the post-World War II era.  (Think Gentleman's Agreement or The Best Years of Our Lives.)  These days, we expect serious subjects to be addressed in less comfortable ways on screen, and The Help has already gotten plenty of backlash and meta-criticism for its style and format.  Taken for what it is, though, the picture delivers.

Based, of course, on the bestselling novel by Kathryn Stockett (which I haven't read), the film version of The Help is written for the screen and directed by Tate Taylor, whose only previous feature credit was a low-budget comedy called Pretty Ugly People that barely appeared in theaters.  (It didn't hurt that Taylor is an old friend of Stockett's who lobbied for him to get the job.)  One key element of the controversy around the book and film is that its central character is a young white woman.  Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone), a recent college graduate in 1963 Mississippi, doesn't fit in with her debutante surroundings.  (In a different universe, Skeeter would be Peggy on Mad Men.)  Skeeter works as a local reporter, but she chafes at the pretensions of the girls she grew up with (headed by Hilly Holbrook, played by Bryce Dallas Howard), and when she sees the way that group treats their maids, she has the idea of compiling a book of interviews with those women.

The soul of The Help lies in these women, and particularly two of them:  Aibileen (Viola Davis), who lovingly raises the young children of white families that treat her as chattel, and Minny (Octavia Spencer), who works for the odious Hilly.  Matters in the town come to a head with Hilly decides that the maids should not be allowed to use the family toilet, and that all houses in town should have special outhouses built for their help.  Although Skeeter may be the protagonist of The Help, and we're forced to watch a fair amount of her not-very-interesting relationships with a suitor (Chris Lowell) and her ailing mother (Allison Janney), the film does understand that the humiliation and courage of the maids is its true center.  

Whenever a Hollywood movie approaches a painful subject, there's always the dicey task of balancing the hard-to-watch facts with enough entertainment value to make audiences willing to endure the experience.  The Help is unafraid of frosting its heartache with comedy, sometimes broadly so, and there are those who object to that.  None of the humor, though, takes away from the awful situations depicted.  What Taylor does very well is present a portrait of the profoundly mixed emotions the races had for one another in that place and time, where many of the children raised so fondly by these maids grow up to become their oppressors. 

The acting is as good as anyone could ask.  Davis, who's been terrific for years in movies like Doubt and Antwone Fisher, is superb and strong, and Davis navigates the tricky line between the movie's comedy and drama impeccably.  Stone is as radiant as any young actress in movies today, while Howard, who can easily be dull in nice-girl roles, seems revivified by the chance to play a monster.  Also worth noting is Jessica Chastain, as a white-trash nouveau riche wife whose story intersects with Minny's, and Sissy Spacek, who does a marvelous job as Howard's mother, a woman who stays crafty even as dementia is setting in.

It can't be said that Taylor impresses as a film artist with a rare eye, but for what's essentially his debut, he does a fine job:  he's marvelous with the actresses (none of the men make much of an impression) and does a solid, professional job behind the camera, helped by such pros as cinematographer Stephen Goldblatt and composer Thomas Newman. 

The Help is more than a little retro as a movie; it certainly doesn't offer the kind of insight and commentary about its era that we get in Mad Men.  The film has no great revelations to offer, either in story or in style.  But there's a place for accomplished narrative at the movies, especially when accompanied by the kind of acting we have here, and The Help gratifyingly meets that goal.