Armchair Commentary

Gear Jammers and Night Riders: 10 Great Car Chase Movies Before "Drive"

With its blend of high-octane car action and an indie-friendly cast that includes Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Albert Brooks, Bryan Cranston and Ron Perlman, the thriller Drive, which opens September 16, appears to pay homage to the great auto-oriented action and suspense films of the 1970s, where top actors like Steve McQueen, Gene Hackman and Peter Fonda vented their frustration over the decade's turmoil from behind the wheel of some heavy-duty horsepower. No Michael Bay histrionics or Fast and Furious drift here - just four wheels, an open road and plenty of attitude.

Following are some of the best and most ballsy car chase films from that decade, as well as a few from the 1980s and 1990s that took their MPH to heart.

Bullitt (1968) Steve McQueen's Inspector Frank Bullitt and his '68 V8 Ford Mustang are pursued by a 440 Dodge Charger through San Francisco's highly vertical Mission District in the landmark 9-minute chase scene from Peter Yates' police thriller. McQueen did about 10% of his own driving in the film, leaving the rest to veteran stunt drivers Bud Ekins (who executed McQueen's barbed wire fence jump in The Great Escape, 1963) and McQueen's usual stunt double, Loren James. The Bullitt Mustang was revived by Ford in 2008 to celebrate the film's 40th anniversary.

The French Connection (1971) Gene Hackman's tough cop Popeye Doyle pits his 1971 Pontiac Le Mans against New York's BMT West Line train in a frenzied attempt to stop hitman Marcel Bozzuffi after a botched attempt on Doyle's life. An astonishing display of cinematic bravura, director William Friedkin puts the viewer in the driver's seat (well, the back seat, where he shot over stunt driver Bill Hickman's shoulder while wrapped in a mattress for protection) or on the Pontiac's front bumper to provide one of the movies' greatest adrenaline rushes.

The Icky Shuffle: Contagion Movies

Gesundheit. With Steven Soderbergh’s brilliantly clinical, scarily plausible all-star disaster movie Contagion hitting screens, here’s a few notable films which also explore the fertile topic of quarantines and near-invisible invaders. Does … does anybody else feel warm?

Panic in the Streets (1950) Q: What’s scarier than having an unknowing carrier of bubonic plague on the loose in New Orleans? A: When said carrier is played by a huffing, puffing Jack Palance. Elia Kazan’s heavily expressionistic film noir (which features Richard Widmark in a too-rare heroic role) piles on the paranoia, especially when zooming in on the increasingly manic Palance, spreading potential death with every musk-ox exhalation.

Shivers (1976) There’s a fear of infection at work in most horror stories (Vampires, check; Werewolves, check; Zombies, big time check). While George A. Romero’s Dead saga, the 28 Days Later series, and The Stand all have their considerable virtues, no filmmaker has ever played with the idea as boldly as David Cronenberg, whose first two movies are brilliantly grody metaphors about catching a bug.  Shot entirely in a claustrophobic high rise, Shivers follows the outbreak of a group of horrid slug-things whose bite releases the inner deviant in their victims. Working on an extremely low budget, Cronenberg takes the concept of viral horror and absolutely runs with it, leaving no queasy stone unturned.  (To quote Stephen King from his awed appreciation in Danse Macabre, “[the film] is about sexual promiscuity on one level; on another level it’s asking you how you’d like to have a leech jump out of a letter slot and latch itself onto your face. These are not the same levels of unease at all.”) Nowhere is the film more effective than in its bizarre finale, which somehow plays as both worst case scenario and happy ending. 1977’s follow-up Rabid, in which Marilyn Chambers develops a communicable hankering for human blood following an experimental surgery, is a slightly more conventional movie, although the director still goes to degrees where few others dare to tread. After watching a surgeon start foaming at the mouth in mid-operation, never leaving the house again feels like a valid option.

Carriers (2009) A small group of survivors attempt to outdrive a widening plague zone, in this surprisingly vital, unstintingly tough-minded end of the world virus movie, with a pre-Trek Chris Pine unafraid to ugly it up in the lead role. The lack of funds occasionally shows, but in its unpretentious B-movie miserablism, it works like gangbusters.

Black Death (2011) In which a bunch of church-commissioned Medieval witch hunters (led by Sean Bean) stumble across a community mysteriously free of the plague. A cult movie in the making, director Christopher Smith’s fantastically atmospheric film explores the horrors of unexplained sickness, as well as the extreme steps taken by some to escape the taint.

Outbreak (1995) Released during the height of Ebola fears, Wolfgang Petersen’s mild yet effective monkey virus thriller manages to hit some of the same nerves that Contagion pings so expertly. The novelty of Dustin Hoffman as an action hero aside, this makes the list mainly for the awesomely overt scene where the plague is first spread … in a movie theater. William Castle would have given a high-five.

So, what movies make you reach for the Purell? --Andrew Wright

 

Made-for-TV Terrors: The ORIGINAL "Don't Be Afraid of the Dark" and other '70s Small Screen Shockers

 On October 10, 1973, TV audiences who tuned to ABC were transfixed by a hair-raising supernatural thriller about a young newlywed (Kim Darby, True Grit) plagued by unseen fores in her new home. The feature, Don't Be Afraid of the Dark, earned a reputation as one of the most terrifying productions ever made for television, and had a profound effect on many that saw it in the four decades after its initial network broadcast - including director Guillermo Del Toro (Hellboy), who recently produced a big-screen remake, starring Katie Holmes and Guy Pearce, that opens on August 26. 

Del Toro's remake serves as a great reminder that the 1970s were an exceptional period for horror features on the small screen. The success of such critically acclaimed and highly rated efforts as Steven Spielberg's Duel (1971), Dan Curtis' The Night Stalker (1972) and Dark, directed by John Newland (of One Step Beyond fame) paved the way for dozens of genre titles, some of which compared favorably to the Hollywood releases of the period. Following are 10 of the best '70s-era TV-movie horror films, all available on DVD, and all providing the perfect degree of chills for hot summer viewing. It should be mentioned that the original Don't Be Afraid of the Dark has also been issued in a newly remastered special edition disc.

Note: the omission of some outstanding TV-movie terror titles, including Steven Spielberg's Something Evil (1972), A Cold Night's Death (1972) and the Gene Roddenberry-produced Spectre (1973)- both starring the late Robert Culp - and Curtis Harrington's The Dead Don't Die, is due to their unavailability on legitimate DVD.

Can't Recall Being this Totally Excited

For a lot of guys in my age bracket Paul Verhoeven's Total Recall is a seminal movie. If you were an Arnold (pronounced Aahh-nuld) fan (go ahead and admit it, it was a different time), Total Recall was the zenith of his awesomeness. And my dad took me to see it when I was too young for an R rated movie. It came after Commando, Predator, The Running Man & Twins. It was the right movie at the right time for any action/adventure loving movie goer. Total Recall was full of humor, memorable quotes and for the era, great sci-fi design and special effects. It seemed like such a BIG movie and for at least this one movie geek, it would became one of the most referenced films ever.

So now, of course, the upcoming "re-imagining" Total Recall (2012) directed by Len Wiseman (of Underworld fame) is making me feel like a kid again. Scanning the google looking for updates or new photos, hoping for an Arnold cameo, anything to feed my excitement. Anyways.....this time around we've got Colin Farrell in the Arnie role. Which, I can get on board with. He's versatile and sometimes brilliant as is evident in the far too unwatched In Bruges. Then the cast really gets good. Kate Beckinsale in the Sharon Stone role, AWESOME! Jessica Biel as Melina, SWEET!! And to top it all off Bryan Cranston as Cohagen. AWESOMELY SWEET!!! Oh wait, as if that wasn't good enough, how bout' they throw in a little Bill Nighy, John Cho and some Ethan Hawke. MIND BLOWN!! One more bonus, Shia LaBeouf is not in it. Just a powerhouse group! What's next, Robocop with Daniel Craig? We can dream.

It's OK if you're smiling right now thinking of some mindless action fun. Let yourself go back to that place when you were younger and going to the movies was so much more exciting. We didn't need no stinkin' 3D! We just needed absurd fight scenes and enough of the F word to make us feel a little bit dangerous while we watched. Thanks Paul Verhoeven, thanks Arnie and now thank you Len Wiseman and Columbia Pictures for bringing back this classic. Yeah, I said it, c-l-a-s-s-i-c.

Just One More Thing: Peter Falk: 1927-2011

Actor Peter Falk, best known for the Columbo TV series and television movies, died Thursday in his Beverly Hills home at the age of 83. He suffered from Alzheimer's disease. Clad in his rumpled raincoat, Lieutenant Columbo cemented his image in the public's consciousness, but five-time Emmy winner Falk's contributions to cinema also deserve credit. Best known on the big screen for popular comedy The In-Laws and Wim Wenders' art house hit Wings of Desire, Falk became part of John Cassavetes' repertory company before turning to television for most of his career (conversely, Cassavetes honed his chops on TV before transitioning to film). (Below, a clip of Falk with Cassavetes and Ben Gazzara in 1970's Husbands)

Born in New York City, Falk lost his right eye at age three due to a malignant tumor, but went on to play Little League, become high school class president, serve in the merchant marine as a cook, and get a master's degree from Syracuse University.

After working as a management analyst in Hartford, Conn., and dabbling in theater, he returned to NYC in 1955 to act full-time. Not long after relocating to Hollywood, he received Oscar nods, for 1961's Murder, Inc. and 1962's Pocketful of Miracles. Of his five Emmys, four were for Columbo, while the first was for an appearance on 1961's The Dick Powell Show. His friend, Patrick McGoohan of The Prisoner, scooped up two Emmys of his own for guesting on Columbo.

Falk made his debut as the disheveled Los Angeles detective in 1968 telefilm Prescription: Murder, while the series ran on NBC from 1971-78, followed by 39 movies on NBC through 2003. In 2000, the readers of TV Guide voted him their favorite sleuth after Jim Rockford. Of his character, Falk said, "He has a sly sense of humor, is by nature polite and totally devoid of pretension." Two of his more prominent protégés include Law & Order: Criminal Intent's Robert Goren and Monk's Adrian Monk.

Other noteworthy Falk projects include off-Broadway's The Iceman Cometh (with Jason Robards), Broadway’s The Prisoner of Second Avenue (for which he won a Tony), Elaine May's Mikey and Nicky (with Cassavetes), Neil Simon's The Cheap Detective, Rob Reiner's The Princess Bride, and the four films he made with Cassavetes, especially Husbands and A Woman Under the Influence (Cassavetes also appeared in a 1972 episode of Columbo).

In 2006, Falk recounted his life story in Just One More Thing. Two years later, his daughter, Catherine, revealed that her father was suffering from Alzheimer's disease (a former PI, she failed in her bid to take conservatorship of his affairs). Peter Falk is survived by Shera Danese, whom he married in 1977, and Catherine and Jackie, his adopted children with first wife Alyce Mayo. --Kathy Fennessy

The World According to Terrence Malick

As if it needed any greater pedigree than simply being a Terrence Malick film, The Tree of Life arrives in theaters as winner of the 2011 Cannes Palme d'Or, the top honor from the world's most renowned film festival. Malick has directed only five films in 38 years, and The Tree of Life has had critics stumbling over themselves to describe its collision of the cosmos, spirituality, philosophy, and the deeply personal nature of familial love. Most everyone admits it's a tough nut that defies easy interpretation, demands repeated viewings, and may even be (gasp!) flawed in some fundamental ways. But the mantle of genius is sticking strong to Malick and The Tree of Life, along with its ruminative themes on the natural world and existential questions about who we are, why we're here, and where we're going after we've moved beyond our experience of the known.

All five of Malick's films have aspired to the realm of poetry. Because of the mystique that has grown up around him -- he stays resolutely out of the public eye and does not comment about his work -- the grand master label has become a given. He surrounds himself with a trusted creative team, and actors lucky enough to be chosen to share his vision have waxed rhapsodic about his process. In a recent interview with the New York Times' Dennis Lim, The Tree of Life's star Brad Pitt said that Malick fosters an atmosphere that allows for serendipity in capturing both elegiacal imagery and the aesthetics of personal interaction. "He finds perfection in imperfection, and he's always trying to create the imperfection," Pitt told Lim. Pitt said that working with Malick was "liberating but exhausting," and that he gave his actors free rein to answer "this actor’s quest of always trying to be in the moment, which is a bit precious but very true."

 

Others have observed that Malick uses his scripts as a starting point, but that they become less important than capturing moments that arise unexpetedly when shooting begins. Famous for laboring over his work both during shooting and in post production, Malick relies heavily on editing and sound design to shape his films. His intention has been expressed as a desire to capture emotion on film in a way that few directors have ever been able to do.

The Tree of Life certainly follows his obsession with nature and the beauty of living things, be they the branches of a tree or the churning vapors of a distant galaxy. In 2005 he brought the gaze of 17th century explorer John Smith (Colin Farrell) to the exotic shores of North America with The New World. His 1998 interpretation of The Thin Red Line, James Jones' novel about the World War II South Pacific battle on Guadalcanal strove for similar themes of the awesomeness, splendor, and sometimes horror found in the details of life so many of us pass by without a second glance.

Another device revered by Malick is the use of observational voice-over from his actors that intertwine with the spectacle of his images, sometimes in seemingly random ways. Malick is a Harvard educated Rhodes scholar who taught philosophy at MIT, so it's not surprising that he should be interested in bringing his idealistic view of the world to bear in his art. He uses the internal monologues that revolve in his characters heads to give voice to his own existential wonder. In The Thin Red Line, the virtual who's who of male Hollywood stars -- Sean Penn, Woody Harrelson, Nick Nolte, Adrien Brody, Jim Caviezel, et al -- mingled their voices to achieve a higher grace than that of a traditional war movie. The New World and The Tree of Life are also filled with voices of actors musing to themselves and to us, whether their thoughts relate to Malick's narrative or not.

The 20 year gap closed by The Thin Red Line was preceded by what is nearly universally hailed as Malick's golden achievement. Days of Heaven is a breathtaking and heartbreaking glimpse at life in the farmlands of the Texas panhandle in the early 20th century, starring Richard Gere, Brooke Adams, and Sam Shepard. Golden is also an apt descriptor of the visual style as filming took place almost entirely during "the golden hour" just before sunset, giving every scene its distinctive and entirely natural burnished glow. Malick was awarded the directing prize at Cannes for Days of Heaven in 1979.

Malick's first feature, Badlands was made on the cheap in 1973, but remains the prototype from which all his themes evolved -- the haunting voiceover, the wonderment or sense of dread provoked by environment, and a reliance on the just-so-ness of natural light. Performances by the very young Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as an indifferent serial killer and his teenage lover remain powerfully affecting, as does the striking imagery of the American West.

Perhaps in an effort to make up for lost time, Malick has already shot his as yet untitled sixth film which is set in present day Oklahoma and stars Ben Affleck and Rachel McAdams. But it's unlikely we'll see the film in time for next year's Cannes Film Festival, and maybe not even the year after that. For Terrence Malick, neither films nor life are things to be rushed, and each appear to hold eqaul importance in his ethos as one of the great artists of our time.--Ted Fry

Director Sidney Lumet Dies

Director Sidney Lumet died today at the age of 86. The Philadelphia-born, five-time Oscar nominee went on to become the consummate New York director. In the pantheon of Big Apple greats, he ranks with Martin Scorsese and William Friedkin, though his style was often more intimate (Lumet was a master of cramped spaces, as exemplified by 12 Angry Men and The Pawnbroker).

He got his start as a child actor in the 1930s before transitioning to television and film in the 1950s, and embraced digital technology in the 2000s (he shot Before the Devil Knows You're Dead in hi-def, and vowed to shoot all subsequent movies the same way).

Throughout his career, Lumet collaborated with top actors and writers (notably Al Pacino, Sean Connery, and Paddy Chayefsky) and tackled a variety of genres (though he remains best known for his crime classics). After the success of 2007's Devil, he signed a three-picture deal, a remarkable feat for a director well past retirement age.

Career highlights include Fail-Safe (which inspired a remake with George Clooney), 12 Angry Men (which generated an Oscar-nominated Russian edition), Long Day's Journey Into Night, The Hill, Serpico, Murder on the Orient Express, Dog Day Afternoon, Network, Prince of the City, and Q&A.

Like Scorsese and Friedkin, Lumet was specifically associated with the corruption-filled NYC of the 1970s, and his morally complex pictures hold their own with Mean Streets and The French Connection. Like his contemporaries, he also had his share of flops, such as The Wiz and Garbo Talks, in which the normally flexible helmer lost his footing.

Aside from his accomplishments for stage and screen, Lumet wrote Making Movies, a clear-eyed look at his career and a practical primer for filmmakers Roger Ebert claims it "has more common sense in it about how movies are actually made than any other I have read." Lumet is survived by his fourth wife, Mary (they wed in 1980), and daughters Amy, a sound editor, and Jenny, the scribe behind Jonathan Demme's Rachel Getting Married.

Lumet’s films have garnered 31 Academy Awards, including wins for Ingrid Bergman and Peter Finch, who played the Network newscaster who shouted, "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" But it's best to let David Mamet, who penned Lumet's The Verdict, have the last word. “Sidney," he once said, "is the maestro.” --Kathleen C. Fennessy

See Also: Sidney Lumet's Essential Films

Elizabeth Taylor’s Five Best Performances

Elizabeth Taylor will be remembered for her violet eyes, her many husbands, her philanthropy, and much more. But let’s not forget about her movies. The actress took home two Oscars for Butterfield 8 and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and appeared in her first movie, There’s One Born Every Minute at just nine years old (the film also featured “Little Rascals” star Carl “Alfalfa” Switzer). Here are some of her best performances:

National Velvet (1944) : As Velvet Brown, the horse-obsessed pre-teen who becomes the first woman to ride in the Grand National (a British cross-country horse race), the young Taylor was like a young Justin Bieber fan, breathless to the point of fainting, innocent enough to be fearless, and determined despite her own trainer’s (Mickey Rooney) lack of belief.

A Place in the Sun (1951): Taylor met Montgomery Clift, who would become one her closest friends, when she played society girl his blue-collar boy. Shelley Winters co-starred as the woman who refuses to let Clift go, forcing him to make a terrible choice. Taylor and Clift are a startling beautiful couple in the film--but even more shocking is the way the Taylor holds her own opposite Clift.

Giant (1956): In one of her more underrated roles, Taylor played Leslie Benedict, a blue-blooded Easterner turned Texas cattle ranch matriarch when she marries Rock Hudson. James Dean co-starred as Jett Rink, a poor Texas ranch hand turned oil baron who never thought Hudson’s character deserved his fortune or Taylor. Taylor begins the film as an innocent girl and ends it as a grandmother.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958): Taylor continued her streak of starring opposite the most gorgeous men in Hollywood when she co-starred with Paul Newman in this adaptation of the Tennessee Williams play. Taylor was at her caustic best as Maggie “the cat,” a woman who can’t understand why her husband doesn’t want her. Williams’ story was toned down for Hollywood, but Taylor bit into the meaty role with relish.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf(1966): Taylor won an Oscar for her role opposite then-husband Richard Burton is this adaptation of the Edward Albee play. They starred as Martha and George, a couple who become the victims of their own cruel game when they invite a young couple (Sandy Dennis and George Segal) to dinner. The sparks were never brighter or more dangerous between the pair.

 

Do you have a favorite Elizabeth Taylor film? Share it with us. --Paige Newman

Why Oscar Loves Royalty

After the collective "feh" that most people sighed in reaction to this year's tepid Oscar show, there remain a couple of moments that linger as highlights between James Franco's smug slouch and Anne Hathaway's fretful zeal. The King's Speech preordained wins were not among them, but the thoughtful, moving speeches given by star Colin Firth, director Tom Hooper, and screenwriter David Seidler that stood in contrast to the graceless, boring, "bad TV" moments of so many other honorees certainly were. There's been a lot of grousing about how The King's inevitable coronation insidiously seeped into many aspects of the show, especially the final Best Picture montage. But one royal reference that was also among the shows standout moments was when Helen Mirren and Russell Brand appeared to award the Best Foreign Language Film. Deadpan, elegant, and in perfectly accented French, Dame Helen announced the award category, and then paused for translation from her unlikely pal and upcoming co-star in the Arthur remake: "What Helen said was, ‘Yo, my Oscar winning performance as a Queen was much more realistic than Colin Firth's as a King.'"

Whether or not that's so, it's true that Oscar loves royalty. Add that to the fact that an actor's skill in portraying and overcoming a disability gives the Academy an even deeper glow, any doubt that The King's Speech would walk away with quad top honors of Picture, Actor, Director, and Screenplay should have surprised no one. And hey, it didn't!

As anecdotal evidence of Oscar's penchant for the Crown, here's a list of some other notable wins and nominations that have tickled Academy voting fingers over the years:

The Queen (2006): Helen Mirren was a pretty obvious choice by any standard when she won Best Actress for her portrayal of Queen Elizabeth II, a modern monarch with chilly warmth and a palpable struggle that kept her loyalties divided between family and country. She was in good company with co-nominees Meryl Streep, Kate Winslet, Penelope Cruz, and Judi Dench (more about her later). It was also not Dame Helen's first nomination for playing the Queen of England. She was in the Best Supporting Actress category in 1995 for The Madness of King George (more about that later too). Hers was the only win for The Queen, though it was also nominated for Best Picture, Director (Stephen Frears), Original Screenplay (Peter Morgan), Score (Alexandre Desplat), and Costume Design.

Elizabeth (1998) and Elizabeth: The Golden Age: (2007): Cate Blanchett was twice nominated for her decade-apart portrayals of the icy, beautiful, Queen Elizabeth I, but was trumped the first time by non-Queen Gwyneth Paltrow for Shakespeare in Love (more later again), then by Marion Cotillard for La Vie En Rose. In addition to several art and technical nominations, Elizabeth was one of the Best Picture entries at 1999's Oscar show (it earned four other nominations, winning only for Best Makeup), but Elizabeth: The Golden Age was shut out of all other categories in 2008 except Costume Design, although it did win that category. Cate Blanchett does have an Oscar statuette on her mantel, having won Best Supporting Actress in 2005 for The Aviator. She also received Supporting Actress noms in 2007 for Notes on a Scandal, and in 2008 for I'm Not There (in competition with herself for the Elizabeth Best Actress performance!).

Shakespeare in Love (1998): In addition to darling Gwynnie's win, Dame Judi Dench took home a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for playing a similarly wintry Elizabeth II (was she better than Cate Blanchett? Hmmm…). The movie that the Academy adorned with 13 nominations took home five others, including Best Picture. It beat heavy favorite Saving Private Ryan in that top category, but at least Steven Spielberg took home the Best Director statuette so he could bonk Shakespeare director John Madden over the head with it.

Her Majesty, Mrs. Brown (1997): Speaking of Judi Dench, her role as a curmudgeonly Queen Victoria gained her a Best Actress nomination, but she was aced at 1998's Oscar show by Helen Hunt for As Good As It Gets. Dame Judi has since been honored with Supporting Actress nominations for Chocolat (2000), and Leading Actress nominations for Iris (2001), Mrs. Henderson Presents (2005), and Notes on a Scandal (2006).

The Madness of King George (1994): The great Nigel Hawthorne reprised his original stage performance in Alan Bennett's adaptation of his play The Madness of George III, and rightly earned himself a Best Actor Nomination for portraying the monarch who lost the American colonies, then went completely loony. Speculation is that the madness was caused by the disease porphyria, while Hawthorne's Oscar loss was most definitely blamed on a shameless win by Tom Hanks for Forrest Gump. The Madness of King George did take home an Oscar for Art Direction-Set Decoration, and Alan Bennett was nominated for his Adapted Screenplay. As mentioned above, Helen Mirren earned a Supporting Actress nomination as George's devoted Queen Charlotte.

The Lion in Winter (1968): Katharine Hepburn won Best Actress honors (in a rare tie, with Barbra Streisand for Funny Girl) for her portrayal of Eleanor of Aquitaine, who married Henry II and became Queen of the English in a rather roundabout way. It was a consecutive win for Hepburn after having taken home the Oscar the previous year for Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? It represented another milestone in that Katharine Hepburn still holds the record for multiple lead acting Oscar wins -- she also received Best Actress honors for one of her first roles in Morning Glory (1931), and for one of her last in On Golden Pond (1981). As for the Lion himself, Peter O'Toole was nominated, but lost that year to Cliff Robertson for Charly.

A Man For All Seasons (1966): The Academy really loved this rousing adaptation of Robert Bolt's play, and it took home six Oscars in 1967, including Best Picture, Best Director (Fred Zinnemann), Best Adapted screenplay (Bolt), Cinematography, and Costume Design. Paul Scofield won as Best Actor for playing Sir Thomas More, the Chancellor of England who denied King Henry VIII a divorce from Catherine of Aragon and lost his head for it. A youngish Robert Shaw, nominated in the Supporting category for playing the King kept his head, but lost the Oscar to Walter Mathau for The Fortune Cookie.

A few more films with Royal themes that Oscar loved a little bit include Mary Queen of Scots (1971), which earned Vanessa Redgrave one of her five nominations (she won as Supporting Actress in 1978 for Julia), and Anne of the Thousand Days (1969), which got nominations for Best Picture, Best Actor (Richard Burton), Best Actress (Geneviève Bujold), and Best Supporting Actor (Anthony Quayle), among its 10, but won only for Costume Design. The Young Victoria (2009) also won for Costume Design, but was not recognized for a fine performance by Emily Blunt as the Queen who would much later achieve lasting fame for loosing a sexy secret in the retail sales arena. The beautiful Emily Blunt may yet have a chance, for playing British royalty clearly plays to Oscar's weakness, especially if there's a pretty face and/or a stumbling speech involved.--Ted Fry

Jeff Bridges vs. John Wayne: Battle of the "True Grit"s

Whether or not it's a foregone conclusion that Colin Firth has the Best Actor Oscar locked up for The King's Speech, there's an opposing buzz that Jeff Bridges stands a good chance of pulling a hat-trick win for his wonderfully crotchety work as Rooster Cogburn in the Coen brothers' True Grit. After finally and rightly being honored by the Academy with last year's win for Crazy Heart, Bridges may yet have a bit of an edge with voters. Plus he's absolutely terrific in the role. He's certainly proven to be a hit with audiences, making True Grit the Coen's biggest box office success by a long shot.

Bridges is regarded as a consummate professional among his peers. The recent American Masters documentary on PBS, Jeff Bridges: The Dude Abides was an excellent critical tribute that ran down his brilliant career and was filled with praise from a string of colleagues who honored him for his warmth and humility. Bridges' career has spanned genres, peaks, and valleys since his big screen breakout role in Peter Bogdonovich's The Last Picture Show in 1971. His first nomination as a supporting actor came from that defining '70s golden-age film for playing a small town Texas roughneck (he was aced by his old timer co-star Ben Johnson), and went on to get nods in the supporting category in 1974 for Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (Robert De Niro won for The Godfather: Part II), then again in 2000 for playing the American President in The Contender (Benicio de Toro won for Traffic). His only other Best Actor nomination was in 1984 for playing a sensitive alien with an emerging soul in Starman (the Oscar went to F. Murray Abraham for Amadeus).

In the popular press at least, Bridges also finds himself up against the legacy of John Wayne, who won his only Academy award for playing Marshall Cogburn in Henry Hathaway’s 1969 adaptation of Charles Portis's novel. Wayne's only other acting nomination was for 1950's Sands of Iwo Jima (Broderick Crawford deservedly took home the Oscar that year for his towering work in Robert Rossen's All the King's Men). The True Grit win prompted a minor controversy from an emerging generation of the new Hollywood and wave of raw American cinema that all but swept away the old guard studio system as the ‘70s progressed. Sickly and on his way out, Wayne was judged by many to nab the Oscar out of sympathy, sentimentality, and a sense of entitlement based on his long career and lifetime of box office earnings. He had some real competition in the category from Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight, both of whom won their nominations from bold, courageous work in John Schlesinger's groundbreaking Midnight Cowboy. But they must have seemed just too much of a risk against the traditionalism that still held industry sway, so the safe bet was for the Duke.

Both Hathaway's and the Coen's interpretation of Portis's excellent source material are fine, maybe even great movies. The characterizations, subtext of fundamental morality, and base theme of genuine right overcoming genuine wrong are powerful forces in both, but it's a specious argument to consider one being better than the other given the 40 years of change in how we accept and absorb movies as entertainment. Wayne does a lot of hamming and mugging, playing up his well-established persona (which probably also helped him with Academy voters), while Bridges gets to the gritty soul of a man with a strength of character and gruffness of spirit that still can't completely hide a caring heart.

And speaking of specious claims, talk of Bridges' Cogburn being some old west ancestor of the Dude (a role for which he absolutely should have been honored as star of The Big Lebowski) seems to me a silly, entertainment media ploy that merely serves to squander publicity ink. It's true that Bridges' Rooster Cogburn abides to the depths of his soul, but the Dude stands alone as a genuine abiding spirit that will never have an equal. Nevertheless, let's hope that with his second triumph as the Coen's leading man Jeff Bridges returns to their stock company of actors again and again. --Ted Fry