Almost There: Lois Smith in "Five Easy Pieces"

by Cláudio Alves

No matter how respected or prolific a thespian may be, the glow of Oscar gold isn't guaranteed. Just ask Lois Smith, a titan of the contemporary American stage with nearly 150 screen credits to her name. The closest she ever came to the Academy's good graces was at the start of the 70s and the New Hollywood craze, when playing Jack Nicholson's pianist sister in Five Easy Pieces. Bob Rafelson's film is something of a classic for those interested in this era of American cinema, but its legend tends to circle around the leading man and, maybe, Karen Black. Still, Smith delivers a performance worth considering and, as the title of this post suggests, she was almost there…

Click to read more ...

Almost There: Shelley Duvall in "3 Women"

by Cláudio Alves

The Almost There series' temporary fixation on Cannes-winning performances continues with the incomparable Shelley Duvall. In 1977, when her sixth collaboration with director Robert Altman premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, Duvall took home the much-coveted Best Actress prize from a jury presided by Roberto Rossellini. The picture that earned such golden plaudits was 3 Women, a Bergman-esque exploration of juxtaposed and deconstructed identity that's also one of the best American films of its decade…

Click to read more ...

Top Ten 1970s

for discussion & Oscar-break fun

The Tuesday Top Ten will get more article-like soon once we're clear of Oscar-Night Mania but since it was so fun to discuss the 1930s in brief recently, let's talk about the other greatest American cinematic decade for a minute, the 1970s. Like all of you I know I have holes in my viewing but off the top of my head here are my 10 favorites from that much obsessed-over decade.The order is semi random beyond the top three which are always my top three from that decade though the order has occasionally varied.

1. Manhattan (Woody Allen)
2. Cabaret (Bob Fosse)
3. Nashville (Robert Altman)
4. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola)
5. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese)
6. Network (Sidney Lumet)
7. Annie Hall (Woody Allen)
8. All That Jazz (Bob Fosse)
9. Carrie (Brian de Palma)
10. Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman)
11. The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola)
    
    oops i cheated... I forgot Carrie when I was typing it up.  

With apologies to: Klute, Three Women, Jaws, McCabe and Mrs Miller, and The Godfather (I know it's supposed to be everyone's favorite... but I'm allowed to think it's brilliant without personally loving it) and whatever else I forgot. I'm sure I did! And with a warm hug/shout out to four sentimental childhood favorites: Star Wars, Grease, Breaking Away and Superman.

Your Turn! I'd love to hear your list... especially if you want to champion something you think is criminally underseen or underdiscussed. Maybe it'll give others rental ideas. Hell, maybe it'll spur me on to finally see it. 

Take Three: Piper Laurie

Craig (from Dark Eye Socket) here with this week's Take Three. Today: Piper Laurie

Take One: Hesher (2010)
Laurie has played the grandmother figure a few times in recent years (Hounddog, Eulogy, The Dead Girl), but she best conveyed matriarchal feeling last year in Hesher. The film uses the familiar narrative coupling of a loveable old person and unruly younger person connecting despite obvious differences. This time it's carried out with keen subtlety because the people involved are Laurie and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who make this arrangement work in a delightfully fresh way. Their friendship isn’t the main thrust of the narrative, but a key characterful diversion, and the genuinely heartfelt union elevates the film with tiny moments of tender affection.

Laurie's Grandma is there for her grandson (Devin Brochu) through the mourning of his mother and later when Gordon-Levitt’s stoner/drifter crashes the family home. Her open acceptance of the stranger in their home starts as comically baffling but becomes almost profound. A bedroom scene where the Grandma and Hesher share tales of their lives over a bong contains obvious comedy. But Laurie’s performance – especially her indistinct and sweetly sing-song delivery – creates an odd pathos. She's giving us glimpses of her life before old age took its toll. This scene follows an earlier moment where nobody takes her up on her offer to accompany her on her morning walk. Unfazed, yet with a hint of melancholy barely audible to the others, she utters: “Well, you know you’re always invited.” She arouses a rush of emotion in five small words. "Grandma" couldn't might've been a mere peripheral presence or a parody, but she's more than a token old lady in Laurie's hands. 

Godfearing loons and corporate megabitches after the jump

Click to read more ...