The
Oscar. Paramount Pictures. Executive producer, Joseph E. Levine;
producer, Clarence Greene; director, Russell Rouse; screenplay, Harlan Ellison,
Russell Rouse, Clarence Greene; director of photography, Joseph Ruttenberg; music,
Percy Faith; art direction, Hal Pereira. Originally released as a motion
picture in 1966. Performers: Stephen Boyd, Elke Sommer, Milton Berle, Eleanor
Parker, Joseph Cotten, Jill St. John, Tony Bennett, Edie Adams, Ernest
Borgnine. Based on the novel by Richard Sale. Summary: the story of an actor's
bitter struggle to rise to the top and win the coveted Oscar.
style ***
substance ***
Has anyone ever noticed
that movies with all-star casts are never very good? Yes, we have rare gems
like the eight-decades vintage Grand
Hotel and Dinner at Eight, but most
films with lots of big names are of the ilk of The Oscar, which is saddled with a dismayingly high-powered collection of varyingly mid-level and bonafide stars. But this is just the beginning of its myriad problems. Simply put, The Oscar is of highly dubious
pedigree, specifically its falling in the decade from roughly the mid-Fifties to the
mid-Sixties, which might well be described as the golden age of the kitsch masterpiece. The VIPs; Love Has Many Faces; Imitation of Life; Peyton Place; Written
on the Wind; Suddenly, Last Summer; The Carpetbaggers, to cite but a few of
the highest – or is it lowest? – exemplars.
The Oscar continues the tradition of the polished, pretentious but rather empty affair that's so bad it's, well, if not exactly good then immensely entertaining, mostly by virtue of the unapologetic over-the-topness. Part of the (not so) secret of success is that it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Or is it because it takes itself so seriously? One can never be sure in this kind of material.
The Oscar continues the tradition of the polished, pretentious but rather empty affair that's so bad it's, well, if not exactly good then immensely entertaining, mostly by virtue of the unapologetic over-the-topness. Part of the (not so) secret of success is that it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Or is it because it takes itself so seriously? One can never be sure in this kind of material.
Arriving as it did in 1966
The Oscar is in one sense the last gasp of the steamy, melodramatic potboiler. And indeed it has more the flavor of early 1960s or late 1950s than
Swinging Sixties. Ergo one of the film’s central agonies: it wants to be both plushy Old School romantic and no-holds-barred gritty, frank and shocking at the same time. Thus we have several scenes which feature semi-nude actresses languorously stretched out on oversized beds, parading around
in skimpy nighties, or performing bland stripteases.
In any case The Oscar milks the Hollywood-at-its-naked-dirtiest
clichés to the hilt, and what we’re left with is a highly uneven artistic
product awash in the gaudiest of period colors, the worst offenders being those
awful Sixties clothes which even Edith Head designs can’t rescue. Frequently
unintentionally funny, the subtle-as-a-sledgehammer script is delivered in
suitably heavy-handed fashion. There’s also Tony Bennett’s unnecessary, eminently far too frequent, narration
that’s way out of place for a high gloss would-be epic like this.
The story’s principal
characters fly perilously close to caricature: the rising star who’ll do
anything to become a bigger star, the long suffering girlfriend(s), long
suffering wife, philistine producer, sleazy private detective. To the film’s
credit, the script, and resultant overheated performances, lampoon these tropes
along the way.
As for the mostly excellent cast, they chew their respective roles with unrestrained
glee. Boyd is perfect as the svelte pretty boy who wants the good life and even
more so wants to be taken seriously as an actor. Ernest Borgnine as a repulsive
private eye and Edie Adams as his frowsy wife also register a strong impression,
as does Eleanor Parker, here cast as our hero’s “older woman” mentor and sometime
girlfriend. She has little to do but look beautiful, which she does. Of course
Peter Lawford makes an appearance (as a maitre d’) – you didn’t think a movie
this bad wouldn’t have him in it? But it's Milton Berle’s nicely
understated performance as the crusty agent with a core of integrity that really stands out amongst all the scenery chewing.
Despite a few virtues, then,
and with no disrespect to the stunningly tacky Mommie Dearest, ultimately The
Oscar may indeed be the worst ever film which purports to expose the seamy side of the movie business, Hollywood Babylon meets Sunset Boulevard, if you like [1].
And even if a viewing of The Oscar ultimately leaves a deliciously bad taste
in the mouth, somehow a question lingers: was (is) Hollywood as irretrievably
corrupt a place as depicted in this film, populated by clawing, desperate,
nasty little people? Probably not. Even reviewers a half century ago were skeptical [2].
[1] The film
actually received two AA nominations: Best Color Costume Design and
Best Color Art Direction, and perhaps this
was only just.
[2] As far as I can tell The Oscar is not, alas, currently available on DVD.
[2] As far as I can tell The Oscar is not, alas, currently available on DVD.
