Oscars: Somewhere over 1917

I didn’t want to put Judy up against Ford v Ferrari so what do I do? Put it up against 1917.

Stick with me here. Both of these movies, while different in genre, are portraits of how a life can be reduced to tatters.

Judy, like A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, isn’t up for Best Picture, but Renee Zellweger is up for Lead actress. She slips into the ruby slippers to play the one, the only Judy Garland. This is not a biopic in the true sense. It’s an adaptation of the West End/Broadway play, End of the Rainbow, covering the last year of the super star’s life with bits of the entertainer’s past woven in for perspective. Some of the suggestions, like that of MGM being responsible for Garland’s barbiturate habit, are contested by several close sources.

We meet Judy in debt up to her ears. Labeled too difficult, no one will hire her in the States. So, she must leave her children with their father. Popping uppers and downers. In a phrase, rock bottom. Zellweger doesn’t let us look away from the harsh picture of what’s happened to our Dorothy Gale. She is witty, vulnerable, confident, vibrant, and damaged simultaneously. She lights up every scene whether Judy is on a downbeat or on a high and highlights Garland’s perseverance. Her facsimile of the legend is not perfect. While watching Judy, I saw bits of Bridget Jones in her performance. This happened as I watched A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, but in Judy, it wasn’t as jarring. Just in some glances and smiles. So, by not perfect, I mean pretty damn close to it.

The flashbacks with the youthful Garland really drove all of the feels home. I’ve seen little said about Darci Shaw’s contribution to the film, but she should most certainly get her due for her work. She brings to life the Wizard of Oz era of Garland’s career and being shipped with Mickey Rooney.

And the total control studios had over actors during this period. If you’re into cinema history, the manipulation isn’t a shock to you. A studio contract was indentured servitude with little respite. The careers of Olivia De Havilland and Lauren Bacall are typical examples. However, De Havilland got the upper hand over hers. With the scenes spent with Shaw’s younger Garland, we see that heartless abuse afflicting a kid. Shaw’s performance matches Zellweger’s step for step. She is the picture of vulnerability with a desire to be independent boiling under the skin.

The line delivered by Zellweger in response to her treatment for depression was “Four husbands. Didn’t work.” Judy was looking for a safe haven from a toxic system of abuse but found none. Her only solace was in the roar of the crowd, which is where her story ends.

We could have watched her take a turn for the bitter, resentful side of life. Judy easily could have whipped out the blame game and called it a day. In one of those iconic red phone booths, we see her give permission to her children to choose their father over herself. She is isolated and alone in a foreign country but has the emotional wherewithal to comfort a fan.
Instead of choosing resentment, she continues to entertain. Everything is going to be alright. She believes she is going to land on her feet. Something will come along.

Sam Mendes’ 1917, the latest war epic to hit the silver screen, is similar to Judy in that the storyline takes liberties with actual events. The film was inspired by stories his grandfather told of his experiences during the war. Mendes’ grandfather ran messages because of his size and speed. Lance Corporals Schofield and Blake are charged with running a crucial message to the front line in 1917. A benign-sounding start for a war movie.

The action is set during Operation Alberich, a German retreat meant to solidify their position and consequently threw the opposition into mass confusion. On the ground, it appeared British forces had the Germans on the run. From the air, the German faint was evident. Unfortunately, communication lines are down. Which brings us back to those two Lance Corporals. They are tasked with crossing territory previously held by the enemy to halt the offensive. A fool’s errand.

Our navigators for this seemingly doomed adventure are the two Lance Corporals I mentioned above, played by George McKay and Dean-Charles Chapman. With the narrow shots to simulate the feeling of being in a trench, the audience gets very up close with the protagonists. In a physical sense anyway. The discovery of who these men are comes in small doses offsetting how close we are visually to the men. No one wants to get too close in a setting where you could be dead in the morning after all. But, as an audience member, it hindered my relationship with the characters who I spent the most time with throughout the movie.

The technical components of this movie were beautifully executed. Beautiful, open pastoral shots abutted gore-laden, claustrophobic ones. Light and darkness were intertwined together like a firework spectacular. Mendes’ use of music in scenes added to the rise and fall of the drama unfolding on screen. Absolutely stunning right down to the last frame.

One of the scenes that really stuck with me was towards the end of the movie with McKay’s Schofield completing a side mission. It’s another close shot, with an empty field as a backdrop. He is standing in front of another soldier, played by Richard Madden, and he hands Madden’s character a dog tag and two rings.

Madden’s time on screen may have been short, but it is his reaction that hits a hard emotional note. He holds on to the three trinkets, all that is left from the solider who they had belonged, as he fights to hold back the devastation he’s feeling. Here, we get a close, personal view of the realities of war. They are surrounded by the stench of death. They have every right to be horrified and filled to the brim with sadness. But they must suppress their feelings in an attempt to survive. And look away when they are presented with loss.

As moving as that scene was, I wasn’t watching anything new. The story seemed like an afterthought. It was a scrap quilt made from bits and pieces from all of the other war movies that had preceded it. And, that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with that. Except, I am talking about the frontrunner for the Best Picture Oscar. Not to mention likely winner if the DGAs and BAFTAs are any indications.

Is this the Acadamy saying mea culpa for Shakespear in Love taking the Best Picture win away from Saving Private Ryan? Even though I don’t think there is a single overlap in personnel on the two movies. I didn’t give it a hard look, so there could be. That sounds cynical, I know, but now that I am over halfway through watching the Best Picture contenders, it’s one of two explanations I can come up with.

The other isn’t much better on the cynical meter. It’s hard to argue against a war movie. A story of triumph over time, circumstances, and, of course, the Germans. 1917 is the safe choice to vote for if you are attempting to mitigate backlash. As if the Academy hasn’t already drawn enough from the nominations alone.

Putting cynicism behind, it’s not February 9th yet, so anything could happen. Couldn’t it?

Judy may not have garnered a spot in the Best Picture race, but I feel it was the superior example of going to war. Sure, soundstages and theater reviews were the battlefields, but the effects were still the same.