And the Oscar Didn’t Go To… Great Unsung Performances
In the 1978 film California Suite, there is a brief exchange between Maggie Smith’s character—an actress who has just lost a Best Actress Oscar®—and her husband, played by Michael Caine:
Diana: What was the best picture of the year?
Sidney: You mean, what was the best picture of the year, or what did those idiots pick as the best picture of the year?
(In a delicious bit of Hollywood meta-irony, Smith won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar® for this role. )
This brief exchange exemplifies all that is wrong with the idea of making awards for artistic achievement into a horse race. The greatness of art is subjective, and one man’s Citizen Kane is another man’s Ishtar, as it were.
Therefore, in honor of the upcoming horse race we call the Academy Awards®, here are my picks for what I call the Golden Squillo Awards™ for work that, like your humble scribe’s, was undeservedly passed over by The Official Arbitors of Great Art.
N.B.: The Golden Squillos™ are subject to certain limitations; e.g., movies Squillo has actually seen and is able to recall.
Peter Lorre ~ M (1931) ~ Hans Beckert
A chilling, very modern performance, revealing the heart of darkness that can lie beneath the most benign of exteriors.
Greta Garbo ~ Queen Christina (1933) ~ Queen Christina
In one of her best talkies, Garbo shows us what made her such a star in the silent era: a face that could express an entire soul’s worth of emotion in a single shot.
Bette Davis ~ Of Human Bondage (1934) ~ Mildred Rogers
An unusually subtle and restrained performance from Davis, one that might have become a signature Davis bad-girl caricature, but Davis surprises by breathing nuanced life into Maugham’s bitter waitress.
Edna May Oliver ~ Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) ~ Mrs. McKlennar
1939 was the so-called “miracle year” for films, producing Gone With the Wind, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and The Wizard of Oz among others. How else to explain the relative shut-out of this fine John Ford film about pre-revolutionary war pioneers? It is a tribute to Oliver that she was even nominated for an Oscar® among the competition, but her funny and detailed performance deserved much more recognition than it got.
Ingrid Bergman ~ Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941) ~ Ivy Peterson
Bergman’s sexually frank performance as the doomed prostitute saves this otherwise disappointing film. Her terror in the Hyde scenes is uncomfortably raw and palpable.
Claude Rains ~ Caesar and Cleopatra (1945) ~ Julius Caesar
In one of Rains’ best in a long line of father-figure/elder statesman roles, he adds unexpected humor and warmth to the role—just as Shaw intended.
Deborah Kerr ~ Black Narcissus (1947) ~ Sister Clodagh
This role wasn’t Kerr’s only outing as a nun, but it was her first and best. This gorgeous Technicolor film about a group of nuns in the Himalayas creates an unlikely sense of claustrophobia, with an undercurrent of sexual tension, and social and racial conflict. Kerr gives an amazingly nuanced performance as the sisters’ troubled leader—a woman plagued by ghosts, doubts and practical challenges, trying hard to maintain her faith.
Alastair Sim ~ Scrooge (aka A Christmas Carol) (1951) ~ Ebenezer Scrooge
For my money, this is maybe the greatest film performance of all time. Sim eschews the usual Scrooge caricature, and injects hints of humor, self-awareness and humanity into the early scenes, making his ultimate epiphany much more believable than in other versions of the familiar story. His giddiness at the end is not only believable, but liable to infect anyone who sees the film with a touch of joy—perfect for chasing away the “bah, humbugs.”
Shelley Winters ~ Lolita (1962) ~ Charlotte Haze
Winters gave a lot of good performances in her career, but I like this best. At the time, she was one of the few Hollywood actresses unafraid to make herself look ridiculous without going over the top as if to say, “See, this isn’t really me.” She makes Charlotte ridiculous and pitiable, and slightly monstrous in her neediness and disappointment. She’s a character too close for comfort for many of us—a performance well worth a second look.
Ava Gardner ~ The Night of the Iguana (1964) ~ Maxine Faulk
In a fearless performance, Gardner is blowsy, ballsy and at turns vulnerable and tough-as-nails in this terrific adaptation of Tennessee Williams’ play. She set the stage for future actresses, like Glenn Close, who make a career of playing rough like the boys.
Celia Johnson ~ The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969) ~ Miss Mackay
Maggie Smith won a richly deserved Oscar® for her bravura performance in the title role, but Celia Johnson deserved equal accolades for her arch and devastatingly knowing performance as Brodie’s nemesis, the headmistress.
Maggie Smith ~ The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne (1987) ~ Judith Hearne
Speaking of the incomparable Maggie Smith, anyone who appreciates great acting should have a look at this terrific film adaptation of Brian Moore’s 1956 novel about a Irish spinster’s crisis of faith and descent into despair and alcoholism. The entire cast (especially Bob Hoskins, Marie Kean and Ian McNeice) rate a Golden Squillo™ for some of the best ensemble acting ever committed to film.
Elizabeth McGovern ~ The Handmaid’s Tale (1990) ~ Moira
McGovern’s was the only performance in this otherwise lackluster adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel to capture my attention. The tragedy of life in a theocratic fascist state is somehow writ in her monotone delivery and slightly bemused expression; it’s as if she’s saying, “I can’t believe this is happening, but you must believe it and beware.”
Anthony Hopkins ~ Shadowlands (1993) ~ Jack Lewis
One of Hopkins’ best performances, before the Hannibal Lecter franchise turned him into a ham. The scene in which Lewis comes to the startling realization that he really loves the woman he married for convenience is a marvel of economy and poignancy.
Terence Stamp ~ Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994) ~ Bernadette
The only true note in this otherwise over-the-top funfest of a film. Stamp brings the proverbial quiet dignity to the role of the transsexual Bernadette, who finds unexpected human connection in the sere Australian Outback. He makes the character real, without resorting to the usual clichés, and provides a much-needed counterpoint to the film’s high camp.
Jane Horrocks ~ Little Voice (1998) ~ LV
In this astonishing tour-de-force, Horrocks plays a character who can only speak through the songs and voices of the great chanteuses of the past. Horrocks, reprising her stage role, perfectly captures the voices and mannerisms of an amazing variety of performers, such as Judy Garland, Marlene Dietrich, Marilyn Monroe, Edith Piaf and Billie Holliday. Brenda Blethyn and Michael Caine also gave terrific performances in a film that should have had much wider notice.
Julie Walters ~ Calendar Girls (2003) ~ Annie Clarke
Another great performance in an otherwise forgettable film. Walters provides the most truthful element in this wink-wink-nudge-nudge movie, playing a widow whose grief occasionally peeks through her stiff-upper-lip exterior and threatens to overwhelm her. She hints at the full experience of grief, with all its terror and moments of surreal humor, without resorting to histrionics or theatricality.
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