It’s short and sweet again – a 62.5% success rate isn’t too bad, what do you say? The Oscars were announced on 22 February, and I was successful in five of the eight categories that I took a stab at.

Now, it could be argued that anyone could have got Best Picture and Best Director right this year (Slumdog Millionaire (2008) and Danny Boyle, respectively), given the amount of pre-Oscars gongs the film and director had already scooped (Gloden Globes, BAFTAs), and, as I said, Heath Ledger was always a shoe-in for Best Supporting Actor given that (i) he did give a very good performance as The Joker in Dark Knight (2008) and (ii) he’s dead. Just as well that I made a few euro at the bookies with a bet in advance – at least I can now pay Expatica editor Paul (whom I bet I would get six out of eight), but my kind Picturenose partner Colin will be dusting off his wallet, as he allowed me a wager for five. Swings and roundabouts, eh?

In all fairness, I also correctly predicted Penelope Cruz would lift Best Supporting Actress for Woody Allen’s Vicky Christina Barcelona (2008) but, I feel duty bound to say, I am disappointed the Sean Penn took Best Actor for Milk (2008), ahead of Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon (2008). Penn was very good (see review below), but he was still nowhere near Langella. Thankfully, however, I correctly nodded towards Milk taking the Best Original Screenplay award for Dustin Lance Black, (which also made up for the fact that Peter Morgan didn’t win Best Adapted Screenplay for Frost/Nixon, which he of course should have done – that prize went to Simon Beaufoy for Slumdog Millionaire, adapted from Vikas Swarup’s Q & A.)

And finally, I was in fact happy that Kate Winslett took the Oscar (on her sixth nomination) for The Reader (2008), beating my predicted Angelina Jolie in Changeling (2008). I thank you – see you next year…

Sean Penn’s at it again - as one of the premier actors of his generation, he has joined forces with American auteur Gus Van Sant in this affecting, impassioned tribute to California’s first openly gay public official, Harvey Bernard Milk (1930–1978).

A force for good and for change who, as is so often the case in the Land of the ‘Free’, had his life cut tragically short by an assassin’s bullet (are you reading this, Mr Obama?), Milk became a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1977 as a result of his earlier, unsuccessful, but theatrically impassioned election campaigns, and the broader social changes the city was experiencing at the time. Milk had not previously felt the need to be open about his homosexuality or participate in civic matters until he began taking part in the great 1960s counterculture that swept America, aged around 40, which is when we join his story. At that time, homosexuality had yet to be made completely legal in the US, and gays were the frequent victims of social prejudice and hate crime.

Milk served 11 months in office and was responsible for passing a stringent gay rights ordinance for the city but, on November 27, 1978, Milk and Mayor George Moscone (played here by Victor Garber) were assassinated by Dan White (Josh Brolin), another city supervisor who had recently resigned and wanted his job back. Conflicts between liberal trends that were responsible for Milk’s election and conservative resistance to those changes became evident in events following the assassinations - there was no doubting that Milk left his mark, and that nothing would be the same again.

And this is the genuinely uplifting mood of Van Sant’s film - Penn’s Milk emerges neither as preacher nor, despite his tragic end, a martyr, but rather as a fundamentally decent, intelligent bloke who turned his anger at the social injustice that surrounded him into progress. His performance is superbly contrasted with that of Josh Brolin’s as Dan White - Brolin seems singularly incapable of putting a foot wrong at the moment, and Dustin Lance Black’s script elicits no small amount of sympathy for Milk’s murderer, positing the notion that White himself may well have been facing his own issues concerning the ‘normal’ family life he espoused to the cameras and an inner turmoil regarding his sexual uncertainties.

Dan White: Society can’t exist without the family.
Harvey Milk: We’re not against that.
Dan White: Can two men reproduce?
Harvey Milk: No, but God knows we keep trying.

And the film as a whole neatly avoids categorizing even the gays of the time as either being all victims all the time, or tub-thumping evangelists - rather, as men and women who simply wanted to get on with their lives in peace, and be accepted, not excepted, by society.

Harvey Milk: All men are created equal. No matter how hard you try, you can never erase those words.

As well as his startling physical resemblance to the late Milk, Penn has clearly done his homework to get under the skin of his character - his humanity is overwhelming, with the permanent smile that defines his features speaking volumes about his faith in people, no matter what. Diego Luna, Joseph Cross and Emile Hirsch are also excellent as the boys around Harvey, but it is James Franco who really gets under your skin, delivering a romantic turn that makes for a truly compelling gay love story, one that knocks Brokeback Mountain (2005) into a cocked cowboy hat.

A story that was long overdue, delivered by the right people.

128 mins.

Gran Torino (2008)

Now, I didn’t rate Eastwood’s last film, Changeling (2008), as highly as the rest of the world seemed to – while obviously very competent, with a good central performance from Angelina Jolie, something didn’t quite ring true. Who knows, perhaps Clint’s still at his very, very best (a la Unforgiven (1992)), when he’s behind the camera, directing himself?

And that would be the case here – it’s a joy to see one of the 20th (and 21st) century’s finest film actors back doing what he does best and, to boot, playing an old, embittered man with a shot at redemption with far greater acuity than, say, Jack Nicholson’s recent effort in Alexander Payne’s About Schmidt (2002).

Eastwood plays recently widowed, disgruntled Korean War veteran Walt Kowalski who, by slow degrees, becomes involved with the lives of his Hmong next-door neighbours – Nick Schenk’s screenplay delineates with utter credibility Kowalski’s transition from snarling old cur to caring citizen, a journey that begins when young Thao Vang Lor (Bee Vang), attempts, reluctantly, to steal Walt’s mint-condition 1972 Gran Torino. It’s all part of his initiation procedure into the local gang, but these guys are playing for keeps as, they discover, is Kowalski, who refuses to stand by while his neighbours are terrorized, no matter which country they’re from. Stand back, because ‘it’s going to get f@#*ing ugly’…

In much the same way that Eastwood as both director and actor has managed to expertly blend cinematic mythos and genres (such as in High Plains Drifter (1973), Million Dollar Baby (2004), Letters from Iwo Jima (2006)), he pulls off the same trick here – the story’s central concepts of honour, integrity and ‘a man’s gotta do’ machismo are obviously ‘Western’ in origin, but what sets the work apart is the director’s refusal to flinch from the core of the narrative by offering easy, simplistic solutions to a social problem that will strike a chord with many inner-city dwellers. In addition, while the overt symbolism that ends the film may be a touch OTT, Kowalski’s relationship with the local ‘padre’, Father Janovich (Christopher Carley)     is also crucial – perhaps almost as important as the link forged with Thao (which is an excellent performance from Bee Vang, by the way). And, of course, there are more than a few moments of pure Clint magic to be had along the way – no one delivers the hard line like Dirty Harry. Such it was then, is now and, on the strength of Gran Torino, one can only hope that the old man doesn’t holster his weapons for years to come.

116 mins.
James Drew