In an interview last year with Fade In‘s F.X. Feeney, Nebraska director Alexander Payne said that while a color palette is “not right for the film,” he “saw the color version once” and “liked it. It was really pretty. Some shots look even prettier in color. We made it look like a color from about 1970 or ’71, like the colors in Five Easy Pieces, for example.” Well, I just saw the color version on EPIX, and Payne, no offense and due respect, is completely full of shit. The colors in Five Easy Pieces were ripe and natural and plain — God’s own palette, nothing added or subtracted. The colors in Nebraska looked thoroughly pale and sickly and washed out. Everyone’s face had a kind of fake, fleshy makeup-base color, like people in black-and-white films do when the film has been artificially colored. The whole film looked that way. The palette was all creams and bieges and dead grays and K-Mart mustards and washed-out earthy browns and especially reds with an emphasis on maroons. Red this, red that…almost every jacket, sweater and flannel shirt worn was an eat-shit-and-die red. The commercial signs were red. One or two of the commercial buildings were red. The baseball cap that Dern was given to wear at the end had a red brim. The reason, I’m presuming, is that red looks good in black-and-white. Not a single vivid blue of any kind in the film except the sky. Green made three appearances (i.e., a living-room wall, faded grass, a pool table in a bar). Blacks were spotty and mostly fleeting. It was hellish to sit through in a sense. As if Payne and his dp, Phedon Papamichael, wanted the viewers in the countries that demanded a color version to suffer. The film looks 15 times better in black-and-white. Case closed.
I’ve said repeatedly that you never know how much an actor can deliver until you’ve seen him or her in a strong play. Well, I found out last night how exacting and passionate and super-dimensional Amber Tamblyn, Shawn Hatosy, Alicia Witt and Nick Gehlfuss are when push comes to shove. It happened during a two-hour-and-40-minute performance of Neil Labute‘s Reasons To Be Pretty, which I saw at the Geffen theatre in Westwood. It’s running until 8.31, and I’m telling you that…okay, a semi-pricey ticket to Randall Arney‘s production (mine cost $85) is worth its weight in gold. The writing, acting, emotion…forget it. Far more potent than 90% if not 95% of the films and cable fare out there. Really. I felt alive, taken. A kind of throbby, buzzy feeling in my veins.
I’ve been a particular fan of Tamblyn for several years now (Joan of Arcadia, Stephanie Daley, her poetry, that recent Hateful Eight reading), but her performance as Steph, a hairdresser who goes ballistic when her live-in, factory-employed boyfriend, Greg (Hatosy), is overheard describing her looks as “regular” — a bullet to the heart — has to be the best thing she’s ever done. She’s startling, heartbreaking…everything you can imagine that a gifted, live-wire actress could be in a you-are-there, holy-shit realm. Hatosy also — he’s been humping it hard in films and television since the mid ’90s and nothing he’s done has come anywhere close to his Reasons performance. For the first time in nearly 20 years the guy woke me up. Wow…he’s fucking got it! Not Hatosy’s fault — it’s the nature of film and TV to underuse actors. Obviously not entirely but mostly. Sufficient, no-big-deal dialogue. Stories that distract or vaguely “entertain” but rarely elevate.
Before I get into this let me again reiterate my affection for Richard Linklater‘s Boyhood. I don’t think it’s quite the masterpiece that others are calling it, but it’s a very warm and humanistic film — deft and assured and wise and quite unusual. You could even call it unique if you want to ignore Francois Truffaut‘s Antoine Doinel films and Michael Apted‘s Up films. I think it will probably end up as a Best Picture nominee if, as I wrote on 8.3, “the Oscar-blogging mafia (less than 15 people when you boil it down) keeps pushing it as Best Picture-worthy over the next five and a half months.” At the end of the year Boyhood may indeed seem like the pick of the litter because it has “that all-encompassing, life-embracing sprawl or theme” that touches people where they live.
But has Boyhood been overhyped, and is this affecting the responses of those who are just getting around to see it? More particularly, did TheWrap‘s Steve Pond lovingly poison the well by stating on 7.31 that it might not just snag a Best Picture nomination but “actually win” the Best Picture Oscar?
A couple of hours ago a smart industry guy, someone I’ve been talking to for years and genuinely respect, called to say that he and two guild-member friends caught Boyhood over the weekend, and they all agree that Pond’s piece about it possibly winning the Best Picture Oscar is out to lunch. The guy doesn’t want to be identified because he doesn’t want to openly diss Linklater. But he insists that Pond overdid the enthusiasm. “Stop Bogarting that doobie, Steve, and pass it along to us,” the guy said. “That’s such a reach. If it turns out to be a really shitty year, I can see it being Best Picture nominated. But winning?”
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