1982--The Year in Review

1982, in my arguable opinion, was the final year of the last Golden Age of cinema, stretching fifteen years from its origin in 1967. This period might reach a bit into 1983, however the Reagan-era clamor for blockbusters and a distinctively 80s-tinged indie movement would both really take hold in that year, so for all intents and purposes, the frank and harshly-flavored 1970s are largely dead hereafter. 1982 was also a big year for me, personally, because as a 15-year-old kid, I'd finally decided to devote my life to exploring cinema's past, present and future. It was the first year I nacsently predicted the top nominees for the Oscars: Gandhi (which dominated the awards this year; I like it, but it's a bit too repetitive), E.T. The Extraterrestrial, Tootsie, The Verdict and Missing (the last two were the iffiest inclusions). But so many OTHER movies moved me on top of these superb titles. And, ultimately, even though it took me a year to see it, it was Ingmar Bergman’s Dickensian, semi-autobiographical opus Fanny and Alexander that wholly stole my heart (the film would finally hit US shores in a 3-hour theatrical version, truncated from its original 6-hour Swedish TV running time; Bergman would say that cutting it down was horribly damaging to the work, but I adore both versions; in fact, the Academy would hand the theatrical cut four awards in 1983--a record sum for a non-English language picture). It's a thrill to finally award Paul Newman the Best Actor prize for what I think is his best performance: shaky, alcoholic Boston lawyer Frank Galvin, facing one final make-or-break case. Of course, this was the year that Meryl Streep was anointed (rightfully, for a while at least) as America's premier screen actress with her devastating lead in Alan J. Pakula's nearly-perfect adaptation of William Styron's Sophie's Choice. The horror/sci-fi/fantasy genres make further leaps towards commanding the culture with Blade Runner (which I'm sad to say, comes out on top here not once, and I sincerely am bummed about this), E.T. The Extraterrestrial, The Thing, Poltergeist, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, The Secret of NIHM, The Entity, Q, Cat People, Tron, Timerider, Basket Case, The Dark Crystal, Liquid Sky, and Creepshow. To boot, the year's output included lots of great comedy, indie work, off-kilter Hollywood product, UK/Canada/Australia stuff, foreign-language treasures, and one incredible, low-key masterwork by writer/director Joan Micklin Silver–Chilly Scenes of Winter–that still too few discerning filmgoers today have seen. Were I to meet with them in some dreamworld, this would be the first film I'd insist the folks at the Criterion Collection take a closer look at. Finally, and interestingly, my two winners of the Short Film awards are directed by filmmakers who'd make bigger splashes later in the 1980s. NOTE: These are MY choices for each category, and are only occasionally reflective of the selections made by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (aka The Oscars). When available, the nominee that actually won the Oscar will be highlighted in bold.

PICTURE: FANNY AND ALEXANDER (Sweden, Ingmar Bergman)
(2nd: Blade Runner (US, Ridley Scott)
followed by: Chilly Scenes of Winter (US, Joan Micklin Silver)
Sophie’s Choice (US, Alan J. Pakula)
E.T. The Extraterrestrial (US, Steven Spielberg)
Missing (US, Costa-Gavras)
The Verdict (US, Sidney Lumet)
Tootsie (US, Sydney Pollack)
Shoot the Moon (US, Alan Parker)
Diner (US, Barry Levinson)
Burden of Dreams (US, Les Blank)
The Night of the Shooting Stars (Italy, Paolo Taviani and Vittorio Taviani)
Koyaanisqatsi (US, Godfrey Reggio)
The Thing (US, John Carpenter)
Gandhi (UK, Richard Attenborough)
The Executioner’s Song (US, Lawrence Schiller)
The Grey Fox (Canada, Philip Borsos)
Deathtrap (US, Sidney Lumet)
Lonely Hearts (Australia, Paul Cox)
The Year of Living Dangerously (Australia/US, Peter Weir)
The World According to Garp (US, George Roy Hill)
Best Friends (US, Norman Jewison)
Victor/Victoria (US, Blake Edwards)
Frances (US, Graeme Clifford)
48 HRS. (US, Walter Hill)
The Escape Artist (US, Caleb Deschanel)
Night Shift (US, Ron Howard)
La Nuit de Varennes (France/Italy, Ettore Scola)
Personal Best (US, Robert Towne)
Poltergeist (US, Tobe Hooper)
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (US, Nicholas Mayer)
Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (US, Robert Altman)
The Border (US, Tony Richardson)
Brimstone and Treacle (UK, Richard Loncraine)
Alsino and the Condor (Nicaragua, Miguel Littin)
Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid (US, Carl Reiner)
The Draughtsman’s Contract (UK, Peter Greenaway)
The Secret of NIHM (US, Don Bluth)
My Favorite Year (US, Richard Benjamin)
Fast Times at Ridgemont High (US, Amy Heckerling)
An Officer and a Gentleman (US, Taylor Hackford)
Eating Raoul (US, Paul Bartel)
Say Amen, Somebody (US, George T. Nierenberg)
Fitzcarraldo (West Germany, Werner Herzog)
Veronika Voss (West Germany, Rainer Werner Fassbinder)
Just Another Missing Kid (Canada, John Zaritsky)
La Truite (France, Joseph Losey)
Moonlighting (UK, Jerzy Skolimowski)
The Atomic Cafe (US, Jayne Loader, Kevin Rafferty and Pierce Rafferty)
The State of Things (West Germany, Wim Wenders)
The Man From Snowy River (Australia, George Miller)
The Return of Martin Guerre (France, Daniel Vigne)
Baby, It's You (US, John Sayles)
The Entity (US, Sidney J. Furie)
Q (US, Larry Cohen)
Barbarosa (US, Fred Schepisi)
First Blood (US, Ted Kotcheff)
One From The Heart (US, Francis Ford Coppola)
White Dog (US, Samuel Fuller)
Evil Under the Sun (UK, Guy Hamilton)
Cat People (US, Paul Schrader)
Tron (US, Steve Lisberger)
Timerider (US, William Dear)
La Traviata (Italy, Franco Zeffirelli)
Yol (Turkey/Switzerland, Serif Gören, Yilmaz Güney)
A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (US, Woody Allen)
Basket Case (US, Frank Henenlotter)
Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains (US, Lou Adler)
The Dark Crystal (US, Jim Henson and Frank Oz)
Pink Floyd The Wall (UK, Alan Parker)
Liquid Sky (US, Slava Tsukerman)
Creepshow (US, George A. Romero)
Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl (UK, Terry Hughes and Ian McNaughton)
Tenebrae (Italy, Dario Argento)
Querelle (West Germany, Rainer Werner Fassbinder)
Café Flesh (US, Stephen Sayadian))



ACTOR: Paul Newman, THE VERDICT (2nd: Ben Kingsley, Gandhi, folowed by: Dustin Hoffman, Tootsie; John Heard, Chilly Scenes of Winter; Jack Lemmon, Missing; Henry Thomas, E.T. The Extraterrestrial; Tommy Lee Jones, The Executioner’s Song; Richard Farnsworth, The Grey Fox; Peter O’Toole, My Favorite Year)



ACTRESS: Meryl Streep, SOPHIE'S CHOICE (2nd: Diane Keaton, Shoot the Moon, followed by: Mary Beth Hurt, Chilly Scenes of Winter; Barbara Hershey, The Entity; Jessica Lange, Frances; Sissy Spacek, Missing; Wendy Hughes, Lonely Hearts; Ewa Froling, Fanny and Alexander, Julie Andrews Victor/Victoria; Debra Winger, An Officer and a Gentleman)

SUPPORTING ACTOR: Jan Malmsjo, FANNY AND ALEXANDER (2nd: Borje Ahlstedt, Fanny and Alexander, followed by: Michael Keaton, Night Shift; Rutger Hauer, Blade Runner; Jarl Kulle, Fanny and Alexander; Eddie Murphy, 48 HRS; Robert Preston, Victor/Victoria; Mickey Rourke, Diner; John Lithgow, The World According to Garp; Charles Durning, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas)

SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Gunn Wallgren, FANNY AND ALEXANDER (2nd: Lindsey Crouse, The Verdict, followed by: Linda Hunt, The Year of Living Dangerously (won in 1983); Jessica Tandy, Best Friends; Glenn Close, The World According to Garp; Audra Lindley, Best Friends; Zelda Rubenstein, Poltergeist; Kim Stanley, Frances; Rosanna Arquette, The Executioner's Story; Teri Garr, Tootsie)



DIRECTOR: Ingmar Bergman, FANNY AND ALEXANDER (2nd: Ridley Scott, Blade Runner, followed by: Steven Spielberg, E.T. The Extraterrestrial; Sidney Lumet, The Verdict; Joan Micklin Silver, Chilly Scenes of Winter; Constatine Costa-Gavras, Missing; Sydney Pollack, Tootsie; John Carpenter, The Thing; Alan J. Pakula, Sophie’s Choice; Richard Attenborough, Gandhi)

NON-ENGLISH LANGUAGE FILM: FANNY AND ALEXANDER (Sweden, Ingmar Bergman, won in 1983) (2nd: The Night of the Shooting Stars (Italy, Paolo Taviani and Vittorio Taviani); La Nuit de Varennes (France/Italy, Ettore Scola); Alsino and the Condor (Nicaragua, Miguel Littin); Fitzcarraldo (West Germany, Werner Herzog); Veronika Voss (West Germany, Rainer Werner Fassbinder); La Truite (France, Joseph Losey); The State of Things (West Germany, Wim Wenders); The Return of Martin Guerre (France, Daniel Vigne); Parsifal (West Germany, Hans-Jürgen Syberberg); La Traviata (Italy, Franco Zeffirelli); Yol (Turkey/Switzerland, Serif Gören, Yilmaz Güney))



DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: BURDEN OF DREAMS (US, Les Blank) (2nd: Koyaanisqatsi (US, Godfrey Reggio), followed by Say Amen, Somebody (US, George T. Nierenberg); Just Another Missing Kid (Canada, John Zaritsky); The Atomic Café (US, Jayne Loder, Pierce Rafferty and Kevin Rafferty))



ANIMATED FEATURE: THE SECRET OF NIMH (US, Don Bluth)



ANIMATED SHORT: VINCENT (US, Tim Burton) (2nd: Zhil-byl-pyos (There Once Was a Dog) (USSR, E. Nazarov), followed by: The Snowman (UK, Dianne Jackson and Jimmy T. Murakami); Dimensions of Dialogue (Czechoslovakia, Jan Svankmajer); The Great Cognito (US, Will Vinton))



LIVE ACTION SHORT: THE DISCIPLINE OF D.E. (US, Gus Van Sant) (2nd: Ballet Robotique (US, Bob Rogers), followed by: A Shocking Accident (US, James Scott); The Haircut (US, Tamar Simon Hoffs); All Summer in a Day (US, Ed Kaplan); The Children’s Story (US, James Clavell))



ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: Ingmar Bergman, FANNY AND ALEXANDER (2nd: Barry Levinson, Diner, followed by: Larry Gelbart, Murray Schisgal, and Don McGuire, Tootsie; Bo Goldman, Shoot the Moon; Melissa Mathison, E.T. The Extraterrestrial; John Briley, Gandhi; Barry Levinson and Valerie Curtin, Best Friends)



ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: Joan Micklin Silver, CHILLY SCENES OF WINTER (2nd: Alan J. Pakula, Sophie's Choice, followed by: Costa-Gavras and Donald Stewart, Missing; Norman Mailer, The Executioner’s Song; David Mamet, The Verdict; Hampton Fancher and David Webb Peoples, Blade Runner; Cameron Crowe, Fast Times at Ridgemont High)

CINEMATOGRAPHY: Sven Nykvist, FANNY AND ALEXANDER (won in 1983) (2nd: Jordan Cronenweth, Blade Runner, followed by: Nestor Alamendros, Sophie’s Choice; Andrezj Bartkowiak, The Verdict; Allen Daviau, E.T. The Extraterrestrial; Billy Williams, Gandhi)

ART DIRECTION: FANNY AND ALEXANDER (won in 1983), Blade Runner, Sophie’s Choice, Cannery Row, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid, One From The Heart

COSTUME DESIGN: FANNY AND ALEXANDER (won in 1983), Sophie’s Choice, Evil Under the Sun, Gandhi, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid, La Traviata



FILM EDITING: E.T. THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL, Blade Runner, Chilly Scenes of Winter, The Thing, Gandhi, Sophie’s Choice



SOUND: TRON, Blade Runner, E.T. The Extraterrestrial, Gandhi, The Thing, Pink Floyd The Wall

SOUND EFFECTS: TRON, Blade Runner, The Thing 



ORIGINAL SCORE: John Williams, E.T. THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL (2nd: Philip Glass, Koyaanisqatsi,, followed by: John Barry, Frances; Vangelis, Blade Runner; Marvin Hamlisch, Sophie’s Choice; Ken Lauber, Chilly Scenes of Winter)

ADAPTATION SCORE/SCORING OF A MUSICAL: Henry Mancini and Leslie Bricusse, VICTOR/ VICTORIA (2nd: Tom Waits, One From the Heart, followed by: James Levine, La Traviata)



ORIGINAL SONG: “How Do You Keep The Music Playing?” from BEST FRIENDS (Music by Michel Legrand, lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman) (2nd: “Putting Out Fire” from Cat People (Music by Giorgio Moroder, lyrics by David Bowie), followed by: “Up Where We Belong” from An Officer and a Gentleman (Music by Jack Nitzsche and Buffy Sainte-Marie, lyrics by Will Jennings); “Somebody’s Baby” from Fast Times at Ridgemont High (Music and lyrics by Jackson Browne); “Love Will Turn You Around” from Six Pack (Music and lyrics by Even Stevens, David Malloy, Kenny Rogers and Thom Schuyler); “It Might Be You” from Tootsie (Music by Dave Grusin, lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman); "I Burn for You" from Brimstone and Treacle (Music and lyrics by Sting); “That’s What Friends Are For” from Night Shift (Music by Burt Bacharach, lyrics by Carole Bayer Sager); “(The Boys are) Back in Town” from 48 HRS (Music and lyrics by Brian O’Neal))

SPECIAL EFFECTS: E.T. THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL, Blade Runner, Tron, Poltergeist, Q

 
MAKEUP: THE THING, Gandhi, Blade Runner, Fanny and Alexander, Tootsie

A Farewell to Sidney Lumet (1924-2011)

Sidney Lumet died today. Sidney Lumet was one of the greatest filmmakers on the planet and he died this morning and, woe is us, we're in a lotta trouble.

The first time I ever saw a Sidney Lumet movie was in the fall of 1975. I was 9 years old. The film was Dog Day Afternoon and it marked one of the rare instances that my parents and I went to a four-walled theater (we were drive-in mavens at the time). We saw it at the Atlanta's now-extinct Broadview Plaza Twin Theater, and watching the film was, for me, a revelation. I had never seen a movie studded with such bald-faced energy, comedy, and angst; it really transformed what I thought great movies should contain. It had the balmy flavor of being from a foreign land--Brooklyn, New York--and sported some of the most harrowing movie moments I'd ever experienced. My young heart was pounding throughout as I watched Al Pacino's sweaty, set-upon bank robber Sonny Wortzik trying to make it through one very difficult summer's day. By the film's tragic end, with that single gunshot, I was exhausted and exhilarated. I stared at the poster on the way out of the theater and, shaken, committed the director's name to memory.



A year later, my ten-year-old self begged my parents to take me to the drive-in one winter night to see Network, and they were up for it. I can still remember the stunned silence in the car as Paddy Chayefsky's revelatory dialogue rung through the chilled, tinny speaker hanging on our window. I can't explain how I was able to understand the film's sharp edginess at such a young age (I surely remembered, though, that this was a Lumet film), but I got the message nevertheless, and its reception changed my very DNA. This chronicle of unfortunate news anchor Howard Beale (which has nowadays gotten an unbelievable real-life counterpart in Glenn Beck--minus the assassination, I assume) helped shape my view of the world into something, yes, more cynical but still utterly real. Of course, it was this scene, starring Peter Finch, that captured everyone's attention but, rest assured, the movie's sum was greater than its many parts:



After I caught the Kubrick bug and watched Dr. Strangelove when I was 11 or 12, I dutifully had to make an effort one Saturday afternoon to catch 1964's Fail-Safe on WOR TV out of New York. I'd heard that this was the serious version of Kubrick's end-of-the-world scenario. From the very first unexpected moment, when Dan O'Herlihy wakes up from his fever dream about the matador, I was hooked. I loved Strangelove, yes, but I thought this was the more disturbing film in many ways, and I still am sure it ranks right up there with the Kubrick film (its only detriment are some dull moments with Walter Matthau in its first 20 minutes). This following scene has Janet Ward as the wife of a bomber pilot (Edward Binns) struggling to convince her husband, via radio, not to drop a nuclear bomb on Moscow. Again, a Sidney Lumet movie rattled me with its sharp editing, amped-up emotion, and stark photography:



From here on in, I was a confirmed Lumet fan. Now it was time to see his first big-screen effort: an adaptation of Reginald Rose's jury-room drama Twelve Angry Men (originally produced for live television, where the heretofore stage-bound Lumet garnered his directorial chops). At about 13, I watched this movie late one night on Chicago's WGN, and again I was completely floored by the effort, which I talk about here. Looking back on it now, I'm especially moved by this simply-directed scene with the bigoted Ed Begley being abandoned, one at a time, by his jury co-horts:



My dad was a cop in 1970s Atlanta, and was thus a big fan of police procedurals, so he then naturally introduced me to Serpico, with Al Pacino as a NYC cop working undercover to expose police corruption. Though I'd often seen my father's dog-eared paperback copy of Peter Maas' original novel laying around, as we both watched Lumet's adaptation on ABC's Movie of the Week, I noticed less of the editorial forcefulness I'd come to expect from Lumet's filmmaking here, but the blow-away acting contained within--thanks chiefly to Pacino--was right in line with Lumet's previous work:



More to my liking was a similar story, released in early 1981 as Prince of the City, a film I was first exposed to as an early HBO staple. Treat Williams delivered a ridiculously powerful turn as Danny Ciello (he should have garnered as Oscar nomination) who was another real-life NYC cop trying to expose corruption, but this time our lead struggling to remain corrupt himself. For me, this is still one of Lumet's greatest achievements (and the only movie for which he was nominated for an Oscar as screenwriter, along with Jay Presson Allen). It's an endlessly tense film, with over 135 speaking roles in it (and MANY great character actors, including Bob Balaban and later Law and Order staple Jerry Orbach)--and it's a really rewarding challenge to watch:



The following year--1982, when I was 14 or so, I was surprised to see a radically different movie by Lumet. Deathtrap was still a story fascinated with the world of crime, but from a way more witty angle (probably inspired by Anthony Shaffer's Sleuth). As a sly tribute to that work, Michael Caine responsibly took the role of failing playwright Sidney Bruhl, who's attempting to lure one of his writing students (Christopher Reeve) into coughing up his newest play, which Bruhl plans to steal after he murders the kid. This was the first time I'd had palpable fun at a Lumet film (it also boasts of delicious supporting performances from Dyan Cannon and Irene Worth). All in all, I really appreciated Lumet's wild change of gears here:



And later on that year, I was left speechless once again by The Verdict. Not only did the film feature the best screen performance ever by one of my favorite actors, Paul Newman, but its autumnal feel struck me as quite unique for Lumet--darker, yet somehow sweeter and ultimately nostalgic. This spectacle, featuring (SPOILER ALERT!) surprise witness Kaitlin Costello-Price (an affecting Lindsey Crouse), had me biting my fingernails. With James Mason as the opposing lawyer--the dreaded Ed Concannon--and Milo O'Shea as the case's corrupt judge, this scene is still one of Lumet's best bits of work, even if David Mamet's script is not entirely accurate on the legal side of things:



Now forgotten, Lumet's follow-up was Daniel, with Timothy Hutton and the unfailingly astounding Amanda Plummer as the children of parents who'd been executed in the 50s as Russian spies (it was based on the exploits of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg). It's a little underwhelming at times, and then certain scenes (usually the ones with Plummer at the center) just floor you. At any rate, it's a piece that deserves to be re-examined, especially now that Lumet is gone:



Lumet's output then became spotty with failed efforts like Night Falls on Manhattan, Power, Garbo Talks, and Family Business. But he came back in 1988 with the relatively gentle Running on Empty, about the son of radical parents living underground, trying to escape capture for their violent past. River Phoenix garnered his only Oscar nomination as the film's lead (even though he was nominated for the supporting actor award), and this scene, where he reveals his true self to the girl he loves (Martha Plimpton), is the work's choicest moment:



Later on, into my adulthood, I discovered another of my favorite Lumet films: 1965's The Hill, featuring arguably the single best performance by Sean Connery as a British officer thrown in the brig for insubordination and forced into survival mode by the brutal conditions there. As always, Lumet is obviously enlivened by questions regarding morality and justice and, again as always, he illustrates such concerns with an unfailing regard to the technical requirements of great moviemaking. But, I understand, this is one of the most difficult shoots Lumet ever had to endure:



I'm a fan, too, of lesser Lumet works like Murder on the Orient Express (his frothiest film, that I've seen at least), The Anderson Tapes, The Offense, The Pawnbroker and his two final works, the underrated Find Me Guilty (with a terrific lead performance by Vin Diesel) and Before The Devil Knows You're Dead. The one film of Lumet's that I absolutely hate (which I've seen just recently) is The Fugitive Kind, his clunky, drawly adaptation of Tennessee Williams, obviously composed done by a non-southerner, and badly miscast with Marlon Brando in the lead. And I'm still dumbfounded that Lumet was the one tapped to direct the well-designed but plodding film version of The Wiz (the strangest entry in this director's ouvre, and his biggest, most expensive failure). And I have to say, I feel lucky that there are so many other Lumet movies I (and we all) need to see (chief among them, Bye Bye Braverman, The Group, The Appointment, and his adaptations of Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night (his most highly-acclaimed movie that I haven't seen, with the Oscar-nominated Katherine Hepburn, and with Ralph Richardson, Jason Robards, and Dean Stockwell), John Le Carre's The Deadly Affair (starring James Mason, Simone Signoret, and Maxmillian Schell) and Anton Chekov's The Sea Gull (not highly though-of, with James Mason, Simone Signoret, and Vanessa Redgrave).

In the coming years, when I find myself missing Mr. Lumet, which I am sure to do, I can always turn to his one book, aptly titled Making Movies. The world owes a debt of thanks to the director for penning this detailed, perceptive, premier tome about composing for the cinema. After being denied his Oscar for doing his job so well so many times for so long (he was nominated for Twelve Angry Men, Dog Day Afternoon, Network and The Verdict, and for co-writing Prince of the City), he finally was given an Honorary Academy Award in 2005 (way too late, in almost everyone's opinion, including his own).

But, really, such accolades were beyond him (even though he brightly admitted he desired having an Academy Award). He loved show business, obviously--it was in his blood. But he was obviously outshone any ol' award available. On this sad day for cinema, I thank Mr. Lumet for being a key figure in shaping my taste in movies, and my taste for the truth in all things, but especially in the political and social realms. He was a master in the most original sense, blending his lifelong respect for the stage (on which he had appeared as a child) with the more modern approaches of the cinema, while never abandoning the values he surely treasured in his heart. I will desperately miss having my breath stolen by his solid, bedrock-reliable work.

“Sidney Lumet will be remembered for his films. He leaves a great legacy, but more than that, to the people close to him, he will remain the most civilized of humans and the kindest man I have ever known. This is a great loss.” -- Al Pacino

Film #57: The Verdict

Paul Newman delivers a career-best performance in this comeback film from director Sidney Lumet (12 Angry Men, Prince of the City, Network). In it, he plays Frank Galvin, an alcoholic, ambulance-chasing lawyer
whose recent string of lost cases has put him in a desperate situation. He's given one last chance at a moneymaker by a working class family who're suing a powerful, Catholic-run hospital for rendering a pregnant relative comatose. The case is barrelling for an out-of-court settlement, but Galvin senses something bigger afoot. His snooping into the details of the case send shockwaves through the Boston courtrooms and the Archbishop's august chambers.


Scripted by David Mamet, The Verdict is occasionally ignorant of the letter of the law, but it's nonetheless compelling mainly due to Newman's riveting, clawing performance and the imposingly somber atmosphere created by director Lumet. In 1982, the year that brought us E.T., Toosie, and Gandhi, The Verdict didn't have much of a chance at the Oscars, even though it was obvious this was Newman's finest hour (three years after the Academy gave the Best
Actor award to Ben Kingsley for Gandhi, the Academy guiltily gave Newman a special Oscar and THEN awarded Best Actor to him the following year, 1986, for The Color of Money). Newman, for maybe the first time in his career, looks beaten, old, tired--I mean, THIS is Butch Cassidy? No way!! He's magnificent throughout, in voice and in movement. Frank Galvin is an incompetent lawyer, no doubt, but Newman alone makes us care whether he wins or loses. He just wants to do one good thing in his life.

The tony supporting cast--Jack Warden, Charlotte Rampling (looking as beautiful as ever), Joe Seneca, Wesley Addy, Edward Binns, Milo O'Shea (memorable as the case's crappy, crooked judge), Julie Bovasso and Lewis Stadlen--features two more notable performances: James Mason as the hospital's cocky defense lawyer and a small but pivotal role for Lindsay Crouse as the reluctant star witness for the prosecution (her scene is my favorite in the film). The Verdict, Sidney Lumet's quiet, autumnal character study, is given an aged, wood-hewn look by photographer Andrzej Bartkowiak and production designer Edward Pisoni. It's all I can do to hold back from providing you with Galvin's incredible summation speech. But I think I'll let you discover that for yourself. Here's the trailer instead...