by Chris Marshall:
At long last, it’s time for the Ultimate Best Picture Winner
List! I’m going to post these over the next three days, 28 movies at a time.
Before I get into it, I just want to point out that there were very few of
these I disliked. Ok, I probably disliked most of the movies in today’s post, but even those ranked in
the 50s and 60s aren’t that bad. They’re just comparatively worse than many of
the top-ranked films.
All right, that’s enough of a preface. This post is going to
be long enough as it is. Let’s get into it, shall we?
84. The Great Ziegfeld
(1936): A long-running joke during The Oscar Project has been how much I hated
this movie. Its sins weren’t related to bad writing or acting, though. It was
just indescribably dull and bloated. The scenes with Powell and Loy were fine.
Everything else was just excruciating.
83. Oliver!
(1968): I don’t like Charles Dickens’s work in general, and I especially don’t like this musical
adaptation. It was emblematic of my least favorite aspects of the 1950s and
1960s era of the Oscars. Thankfully, the Hays Code was lifted, and Midnight Cowboy ushered in a permanent
change in the types of movies that won Best Picture.
82. Cimarron
(1931): Even if we ignore the racist portrayals of blacks, Jews, and Native
Americans, there’s not much to like about Cimarron.
It’s visually uninteresting, and it gives us one of the least likeable protagonists
in the history of the Oscars. It must have even left a sour taste in the mouths
of Academy members; no Western won Best Picture for another 59 years.
81. The Greatest Show on Earth (1952): Charlton Heston is great as an action star. His antics are
less believable when he’s the guy running the circus, as he is here. Cecil B.
DeMille’s lone Best Picture was an impressive visual spectacle, but he seemed
to phone in the story. And Jimmy Stewart spending the entire film in clown
makeup didn’t help matters.
80. Cavalcade
(1933): Many of the early Best Picture winners tried to do too much—look at
numbers 84 and 82 for more examples. Cavalcade
tried to fit 30 years of history into 105 minutes, and while the results were
coherent, we never spend enough time in any particular year to get invested. Terms of Endearment had a storyline that
encompassed many years, but James L. Brooks allowed us to really get to know
the characters.
79. Crash (2005):
When I first watched it, I thought Crash
would be a strong contender for second-worst winner I’ve seen. That was a
little rash, but I still think it was terrible. You can have a political
message without beating the viewers over the head with it. Many of the encounters
in the film were so contrived that they were laughable, and if there’s one
thing I’m sure of, it’s that the filmmakers weren’t going for laughs.
78. Chariots of Fire (1981):
It’s a British period piece about distance runners. I know I’m always talking
about how a movie shouldn’t be judged by its subject matter, but there’s a
threshold for how much I’m willing to take. There were good moments in this
film, but they were masked by the other 98% of the movie.
77. An American in Paris (1951): There had been a few musically-themed winners before this
one, but An American in Paris was the
first Best Picture that met the criteria I think of for “musicals.”
Unfortunately, it was pretty forgettable, except for how bright the Technicolor
was. I don’t remember a single character’s name, but the dance sequence at the
end does get points for being so off the wall.
76. Tom Jones
(1963): I really expected to like it more. Donald Trump doppelganger Albert
Finney plays the illegitimate son of a British aristocrat, and I had heard
mostly positive things. After a couple of decades of stolid, unimaginative
filmmaking, I appreciated the heavy stylization, but the narrative buckled
under the weight of its own zaniness.
75. The Broadway Melody (1928): In retrospect, I have some fond memories of watching this
movie, but it is very, very far from a good film. Most of the comedy was
unintentional, especially when the main characters delivered their terrible
lines with silent-movie expressions pasted on their faces. The Broadway Melody was the first ever talkie to win Best Picture,
so I forgive most of its mistakes. It’s not like anybody knew what they were
doing yet.
74. West Side Story
(1961): An undeniably well-made movie, but I’ve always been lukewarm to it.
Most of the songs are enjoyable, but otherwise, the acting and writing left a
lot to be desired. Oh well, at least it wasn’t the worst 1960s musical.
73. Mrs. Miniver
(1942): I stand by what I said in my Best of the 1940s post. Mrs. Miniver isn’t bad, and I didn’t
hate it, but there’s just not much of note in it. I remember a couple of scenes
that were pretty solid—as well as the preposterous death scene at the end—but outside
of those, it’s a total fog, which I guess is fitting for a movie set in
England.
72. Amadeus
(1984): Unlike most of the other films listed above, this was a mostly good
movie that was completely sunk by Tom Hulce’s performance as the title
character. I realize that he was probably told to act that way, but it was so
grating and obnoxious that it ruined my ability to enjoy the movie.
71. Going My Way
(1944): This was another early quasi-musical, and it featured a serviceable performance
by Bing Crosby. It also provided my favorite screenshot of The Oscar Project.
The problem is that, other than the basic gist of the plot, I can’t remember
anything else about it. He was a Catholic priest, and he taught some local
hooligans to sing, and… that’s all I got.
70. Around the World in 80 Days (1956): This was a perfectly ridiculous movie. That’s all right,
though, because it was based on a perfectly ridiculous book. There were several
parts of this movie I liked, particularly those featuring Fogg’s assistant,
Passepartout. Ultimately, however, it appeared to exist simply as a
justification to string together a bunch of fancy set pieces from around the
globe.
69. Out of Africa
(1985): For some incomprehensible reason, this is the most-read of any Oscar
Project post. I’ve been accused of misunderstanding the point of the film, and
I admit that’s possible. But why does it get so many views? Is there a cabal of
die-hard Robert Redford devotees out there trying to take me down? In any case,
I didn’t much care for this movie, even if I did misunderstand it.
68. Chicago
(2002): Maybe I have an anti-musical bias. No, forget “maybe.” I definitely do.
But there are several that I like, and as much as I love John C. Reilly, this
doesn’t fall into my Good Musical camp. As an album, it probably works fine. As
a film, it leaves a lot to be desired.
67. The English Patient (1996): From my own perspective, the biggest surprise of The Oscar
Project is that The English Patient
isn’t ranked in the 80s. I know it’s still not very high, but compared to my
extremely low expectations, being only the 17th worst winner is a
monumental achievement. What can I say? I really like Ralph Fiennes and
Juliette Binoche.
66. Gentleman’s Agreement (1947): On the other hand, there might not have been a bigger
disappointment than this one. I expected to love it for any number of reasons.
It was directed by Elia Kazan, starred Gregory Peck, and had an interesting
plot. I know that there were limits on what could be said in a film in 1947,
but I still felt like they lacked the courage of their convictions. This is a
great example of concept being greater than execution.
65. Annie Hall
(1977): It’s too soon to know for sure, but I think I’m just not a Woody Allen
fan. I find his on-screen persona in this film unbearable. Annie Hall herself
became the original manic-pixie dream girl, and I didn’t think she was much
better. Sure, there were some laughs, but I was stone-faced for much of the
movie.
64. How Green Was My Valley (1941): I can accept that they made a movie about Welsh people
without casting actual Welsh people. I can even accept the weird, fake Welsh
accents the actors used. But I can’t accept the lack of any true stand-out
moments. John Ford, as usual, provided capable direction, and the film looked
great, but that was the only bit of greatness it had.
63. All the King’s Men
(1949): Loosely based on the career of Huey Long, All the King’s Men was a fairly realistic portrayal of the
corrupting influence of political power. Broderick Crawford was convincing as
the crooked politician Willie Stark, but Joanne Dru’s overly dramatic role was
comical at best.
62. Grand Hotel (1932):
This was the first star-studded Best Picture winner, featuring Garbo, Crawford,
and the Brothers Barrymore, among others. It was also the first to play with
multiple storylines, some of which were much more successful than others. It’s
not bad, on the whole, but it’s definitely a product of its time.
61. Shakespeare in Love (1998): It was a perfectly acceptable piece of fluff, but it was
nowhere near good enough to merit winning Best Picture. Some parts were quite
inspired, such as the original title of Romeo
and Juliet. According to the film, it
was first known as Romeo and Ethel the
Pirate’s Daughter. Beautiful. I actually liked the movie, but it pales in
comparison to many others.
60. Wings (1927):
Ah, Wings, the very first Best
Picture winner. It had its rough moments, but it told a good story, and
considering its age, the camerawork was most impressive. I never expected to
like this two and a half hour long silent film, but I could see myself watching
it again someday.
59. A Man for All Seasons (1966): It might seem strange, considering its low ranking, but I
was pleasantly surprised by this film. The dialogue and acting were both
strong, and I enjoyed the unexpected appearance of Orson Welles, even if he
only lasted about ten minutes. I also learned a great deal about Sir Thomas
More. Going into the film, I knew that he wrote Utopia, and that was it, so it was nice to find out a bit more
about the man.
58. Titanic (1997):
Even while I admired the technical skill on display in this film, I never quite
understood the hype. I saw it twice in the theater when it was first released,
and then I never watched it again until The Oscar Project. I don’t feel like I
really missed out on anything.
57. Hamlet (1948):
I feel a little like a Philistine for ranking this so low, but as a film, it
just doesn’t stack up very well against a lot of its competition. Laurence
Olivier channeled his inner Sting for the role, which I liked, but the movie as
a whole seemed a little too, I don’t know, academic for my tastes. But at least
now I’ve seen some version of Hamlet. I’d always felt like a fraud because I
hadn’t ever seen or read it before.
***
Whew, a third of the way done! Check back tomorrow for my
Tier Two Oscar winners.
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