010. Mirror Mirror

010. (16 Sep) Mirror Mirror (2012, Tarsem Singh) 30



Whimsical, to be sure, but the script is shockingly unfunny and ill-advised. Crappy CGI and shoddy direction allows Mirror Mirror match the crumminess visually. To their credit, the Oscar-nominated costumes are insane in their detail and ostentatiousness. They tread a fine line between gorgeous and garish.

The casting is wacky. Julia Roberts is hopeful her star power will overrule her character's unlikability, which it never does. Lily Collins can't act and seems to have stolen Jennifer Connelly's eyebrows from Labyrinth. Meanwhile, Armie Hammer is charming, delightful and perfectly cast as the handsome prince, showing comic timing and intelligence everyone else lacks. His shirtless scenes and puppy imitation are the closest this comes to worthwhile.

322. Snow White and the Huntsman

322. (23 Dec) Snow White and the Huntsman (2012, Rupert Sanders) 41



A too ambitious retelling of the familiar tale, Snow White and the Huntsman is at least some fun when playing into its fantasy elements, like a brief scene where the duo fend off a troll. Otherwise, iconic elements like the poisoned apple become mere blips to make room for countless throwaway sequences. Kristen Stewart and Chris Hemsworth have no discernible chemistry, leaving all of the heavy lifting for a very over-the-top Charlize Theron. Dour though it may be, the costumes and visual effects offer at least some intrigue. But no one should be asking for a sequel.

321. The Passover Plot

321. (23 Dec) The Passover Plot (1976, Michael Campus) 19



There's more than enough intrigue in the idea that Christ and his disciples faked his death on the cross. However, I've seen so many versions of Christ's life that I can decisively call this one of the most tedious, even if its concept sets it apart. Watching riled-up, bearded men in robes bellow and recite passages from the gospel has rarely translated worse on-screen. The Oscar nomination for Costume Design is a joke; these could be from a bad summer stock production of Jesus Christ Superstar. Alex North's score is much too good for this.

311. Les Miserables

311. (15 Dec) Les Miserables (2012, Tom Hooper)* 28



Midway through act two, Hugh Jackman and Eddie Redmayne quite literally are up to their necks in fecal matter. That Les Miserables willfully offers that metaphor makes it the ballsiest or most clueless film of the year. Considering how dreadful it is, I'm leaning toward the latter.

There's not an iota of scale in Les Miserables, with roughly four wide shots that so much as hint that this is a historical epic in its entire bloated runtime. Just like in The King's Speech, Tom Hooper's amateurish aesthetic undermines every moment. Here he's as reliant on dutch angles as he is on dopey framing, keeping heads in the corner of a shot while negative space dominates the background. It's one of the worst photographed major studio films I've seen. But there's simply not much to work with since the sets and costumes are decidedly unremarkable. When Les Miz is not irritating to look at, it's boring.

Tom Hooper's direction is astoundingly misguided. Without dialogue, he relies on the score to tell the story. Unfortunately, only five musical numbers are at all good. Most of the talk-singing is instantly forgettable (namely the added and useless tune "Suddenly"). The nasally Hugh Jackman and overly emotive Samantha Barks are shameful standouts in the cast. Russell Crowe channels Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia! Eddie Redmayne and Amanda Seyfriend, without a hint of romantic chemistry, are wasted vocal talents. The much discussed Anne Hathaway is the only performer to give emotional impact to the film at all, overplaying her part, but at least not embarrassing herself in an intense close-up during "I Dreamed a Dream."

Hooper has suggested he attempted to emulate West Side Story, at least during "One More Day," which shows how ambitious and incompetent he is. His shoddily edited film not only is totally incoherent, unmoving, and uninteresting, it's laughable. Crowe's biggest dramatic moment is the most obvious joke, but it's impossible to enumerate the goofs in a film where next to nothing works. Empty heads and empty filmmaking.

278. Anna Karenina

278. (18 Nov) Anna Karenina (2012, Joe Wright)* 74



Though it works better in segments than as a whole, it's hard not to be swept away by Joe Wright's rapturous Anna Karenina. It's a film of which my opinion evolves the more I think on it. Will there be something more breathtaking or perfect as the ball when Anna and Vronsky first dance? I can say now nothing could, or at least should, hope to rival it for the Production Design and Costume Design Oscars.

Joe Wright and Tom Stoppard's adaptation, for all its artifice, gets quite to the heart of Tolstoy's work. There's a passion for the characters and narrative here that makes it irrelevant that a dense, sprawling novel has been condensed into two hours. The quickly shifting set pieces and beautiful segues of sight and sound make the movement completely fluid. Combine that with a strong core performance by Kiera Knightley and Dario Marianelli's evocative score and it's clear there could be no better or more inherently cinematic telling of this story.

268. Lincoln

268. (10 Nov) Lincoln (2012, Steven Spielberg)* 51



With their decisively titled Lincoln, Spielberg and company have invited the expectation that this will be the definitive film about the man's life and work. This is no sweeping biopic, however, as it narrowly focuses on his efforts to get the 13th Amendment through the House of Representatives. The confinement in time, along with Tony Kushner's careful selections of scenes, the right dramatic moments, and a surprising amount of humor keep this reined in. But other than a superb performance from Daniel Day-Lewis, this in no other way lives up to an overly ambitious title.

Spielberg attempts to play silly tricks on us, trying to draw suspense out of the final House of Representatives vote, for instance, which plays like we're watching C-SPAN more than anything else. A far more questionable decision comes when we're misled into thinking we're at Ford's Theater at the moment of assassination when in fact we're at another theater entirely.

Kushner understandably has to inject expository dialogue here and there, but it's often shockingly clumsy. Scenes with Sally Field, as a thoroughly unconvincing Mary Todd Lincoln, are full of bits where she explains something that's happened in years past, from her buggy accident to the death of their son. It places on undue burden on Field, who has to enlighten us on critical history that would be far more compelling if it had played out on-screen.

The cast is a mixed bag. Tommy Lee Jones and Lee Pace are the strongest scene stealers. Many smaller roles are downright distracting, notably appearances by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Adam Driver and S. Epatha Merkerson. Work by Michael Stuhlburg and Walton Goggins is shamefully lacking in nuance.

To Lincoln's credit, the film mostly make efforts not to be too much a revisionist history. Only a dopey moment where Mary Todd and Abraham chat about how history will remember them, near the film's end, feels totally unnecessary. Injecting African-American characters into a story that might otherwise have only been about white people granting equality is also well-advised.

In terms of crafts, Janusz Kaminski's cinematography looks like something you'd see on the History Channel. A handful of sets stand out, but the costumes are wholly unremarkable. John Williams has composed a subdued score that reminds me just how shameless and boisterous his work on War Horse was.

130. The Mudlark

130. (05 Jul) The Mudlark (1951, Jean Negulesco) 34

Extravagant makeup effects transform Irene Dunne and Alec Guinness into Queen Victoria and Benjamin Disraeli. Neither really outshines the physical change, giving performances so low-key as to be considered dull. The same principle applies to the film's Oscar-nominated costumes. Victorian era clothing could scarcely look more unremarkable in black-and-white. Dunne and Guinness are both often dressed in all black, their outfits photographing without a hint of detail. Everything else looks like something from summer stock. The plots about a waif and young lovers fall totally flat.

065. Young Bess

065. (25 Feb) Young Bess (1953, George Sidney) 39



Jean Simmons determines that she'll be an iconic Elizabeth I in Young Bess, but her overwrought, unconvincing performance says otherwise. Having seen Vanessa Redgrave in Anonymous in recent months, it's interesting to see another person approach Elizabeth I in such a baffling way. While Redgrave went for senility, Simmons goes for brattiness. She really doesn't have a singular moment that distinguishes her as a capable actress, though she's clearly been great in other things. It doesn't help that this finds Elizabeth in one of her least interesting phases of life profiling her romantic interest in Thomas Seymour.

The print on TCM looks clean, so I'm fairly certain this was restored recently. Some of the brighter colors pop, but for the most part this is absurdly dingy. It makes this a peculiar nominee for Art Direction and Costume Design. Most of the costumes are downright dowdy, albeit detailed. Those from The Virgin Queen from two years later put them to shame. The sets regularly look like typical sound stage fare. Only a couple banquets are particularly noteworthy.

The Rosza score is about as subtle as a slap to the face. (That's a nod to a hysterical scene where Simmons laughs at Stewart Granger while he insists she stop where it becomes clearer and clearer he'll slap her to make her stop.) The only saving graces here are Deborah Kerr as a genial Catherine Parr and Charles Laughton reprising his Henry VIII.

059. Sunrise at Campobello

059. (19 Feb) Sunrise at Campobello (1960, Vincent J. Donehue) 36



Vincent J. Donehue seems painfully reverential toward his Broadway staging of Sunrise at Campobello. FDR's battle against polio as he pursues politics is far less dramatically compelling than you'd think. The problem's amplified because the film very rarely feels cinematic, confining itself to flat-looking interiors while all the performers shamelessly chew the scenery.

Ralph Bellamy and Hume Cronyn are in especially bad form, boisterously enunciating like they're trying to be heard in the last row of the theater. Greer Garson seems more comfortable, though her voice and prosthetic teeth never seem less than gimmicky. She has a powerhouse crying scene at a pivotal point in the film, giving her an impressive Oscar clip in an otherwise middling performance.

The Art Direction and Costume Design nods are a bit strange (though some others from 1960 are as wacky) since this monochromatic 1920s look has rarely looked so dull. The Sound nomination is insane; there's almost nothing here beyond dialogue.

Winner Breakdown: Costume Design

Costume Design:- Anonymous
- The Artist
- Hugo
- Jane Eyre
- W.E.


To be honest, I'd say there's a pretty solid year for costume design, and there were many other's that could've made the list (My Week With Marilyn, Midnight in Paris, War Horse, etc). So, this is really anyone's game in this category, though I'd say most likely to win is Hugo. Hugo's been nominated in all technical/art categories except Makeup, and I expect, for the most part, it'll sweep, here in included. Hugo had a great array of costumes, from the Paris 1930's, to the Silent Film era, and all those film costumes. However, hot on it's heels is The Artist, which was 1930's Hollywood, filled with Tuxedos, flapper dresses, and an array of costumes used in- lookie here- Silent films! However, I'd say it'll most likely go to Hugo, though I'd love to see something like Jane Eyre win, simply because it did have great costumes and it's not up for anything else. But I'd say count on Hugo, but I'm not ruling anything out to steal it. Anyone could easily take it. 

Will Win: Hugo
Could Win: The Artist
Dark Horse:W.E.
Who I Want to Win: Hugo

036. Kisses for My President

036. (29 Jan) Kisses for My President (1964, Curtis Bernhardt) 35



Rather than focusing on the novelty or intrigue of a female president, Kisses for My President instead is mostly interested in emasculating Fred MacMurray as the "first lady." He's irritating and unsupportive, confessing that he only let his wife run for president because he never thought she'd win. His subplots are totally undercooked like an old flame offering him a job with him realizing much too late it's because his wife is the president. His kids are extremely petulant.

With Polly Bergen playing the only remotely likable character, it makes for an often torturous comedy even if the pacing is rather brisk. In the end, she resigns due to pregnancy. Yikes.

There are some fun costumes like a lavish fur coat and hat and a foreign uniform covered in medals. It's a so-so Costume Design nominee.

035. Mister Buddwing

035. (29 Jan) Mister Buddwing (1966, Delbert Mann) 37



Sort of mesmerizingly dopey, Mister Buddwing is laden with flashbacks as an amnesiac slowly recalls his life. James Garner has an almost impossible time making an amnesiac's confusion relatable. Handsome though he may be, his limitations further emphasize how nonsensical the script is. The film's title, for instance, comes from Garner wandering around the streets of Manhattan where he sees a beer truck and airplane in the sky; he pieces that together to name himself "Buddwing."

The drawn-out, silly plot is made bearable by a strong supporting cast. Angela Lansbury, Katharine Ross, Suzanne Pleshette, and Jean Simmons all take turns helping Garner. Each upstages him. Nichelle Nichols makes an impression in a bit part.

The Art Direction nomination is only for a handful of interiors, none of them especially intricate. It's mostly the inside of apartments and a couple restaurants. The Costume Design nomination is hilarious. Helen Rose is credited with the nod, but is listed in the credits as only designing Jean Simmons' gowns. That means she was cited for two shiny dresses.

034. Jane Eyre

034. (29 Jan) Jane Eyre (2011, Carey Fukunaga) 54



How Mia Wasikowska continues to get work in period films baffles me. Her posture is positively awful and her unladylike behavior makes her stick out like a sore thumb. Michael Fassbender similarly seems out of sorts since he's too handsome for the role.

Fassbender proves to be Fukunaga's greatest asset by making this remarkably sexy. The book was, after all, a romance and there are touches of that here that seem almost lurid. A particular favorite comes when Jane wakes Rochester when his room's on fire. His nightgown has a slit running up his leg and her eyes linger on it. It's a delightfully erotic touch.

This Jane Eyre sits in a heavy shadow for me, having seen Susanna White's 2006 television adaptation not long ago. White was blessed with Ruth Wilson, a far greater talent than Wasikowska, and her tone and aesthetic made for a far more engaging adaptation. The last hour of this film, in particular, feels completely rushed. Fukunaga's original cut was a half-hour longer and I imagine that's a more complete, better paced movie.

Dowdy though they may be, I like the costumes here. Jane Eyre's drab color palette is wonderfully historically accurate, but also capably illustrates the class divide. A white wedding dress is the only major misstep. Dario Marianelli's score is evocative, but minor work from him.

474. W.E.

474. (22 Nov) W.E. (2011, Madonna)* 63



Only the confidence in Madonna's direction and the tightness with which the film's two plots are intercut make this a defensible film. It's vapid, to be sure, suggesting it will defend Wallis Simpson from a feminist perspective. It does, but only through dialogue, never through an actual depiction that humanizes the woman. Andrea Riseborough, to her credit, fleshes out Simpson in a warm, witty performance. Meanwhile, Abbie Cornish is playing a woman of the 21st century who only cares about idealized love and getting pregnant. Yikes.

Nevertheless, W.E. is delightfully romantic, melodramatic, and charming. Abel Korzeniowski's score secures him as the most exciting composer working in cinema today. Arianne Phillips' costumes are sublime.

457. The Artist

457. (06 Nov) The Artist (2011, Michel Hazanavicius)* 48



The first thirty minutes of The Artist are lighter than air, suggesting a rather promising comedy. Then the film turns dramatic and whatever momentum was being gained is lost. A charming series of takes where Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo's flirting interrupts filming on a movie they're making gives way to suicide attempts and house fires and all sort of melodramatic nonsense. The movie simply ceases to be any fun and, considering it's sustaining on the gimmick of being silent, that makes the last three-fourths of the film quite a chore. There are amusing moments along the way, mostly involving an adorable dog. It's one of the frothiest, dopiest movies I've seen in quite some time. I guess that certifies it as a Best Picture contender.

455. Hugo

455. (05 Nov) Hugo (2011, Martin Scorsese)* 57



There are moments of fun and whimsy here that suggest Scorsese doing a kid's movie was not a total misfire. But the film itself can be deadly dull, making it unsuitable for younger viewers. It's also hard to believe they'd enjoy the last act's ode to Georges Melies. Broad supporting characters and their distracting subplots really derail the film. (A train in a dream within a dream literally derails around the same point the film itself does.) When an obligatory chase scene takes place late in the film, it's clear this has outstayed its welcome. Nevertheless, the crafts are lovely and Ben Kingsley is quite good.

426. Anonymous

426. (04 Oct) Anonymous (2011, Roland Emmerich)* 35



Emmerich attempts to break into the prestige picture business, but is still up to old tricks. Anonymous is too briskly edited and overly structured to work as a compelling period piece. It's clear he thinks this is another Hollywood blockbuster, following his tired formula.

The core ideas about Shakespeare himself are convoluted and sometimes insulting reduce historical figures to caricature. King James is briefly shown in the finale as a fashion-obsessed, theater-loving queen. All this reduction eventually makes Anonymous into something that's pushy, joyless, and as far from the Bard as is imaginable.

Vanessa Redgrave's Elizabeth I is a particularly odd duck. Considering she witnessed Glenda Jackson acting the heck out of the role in Mary, Queen of Scots, it's not surprising Redgrave took another direction. Instead of the raging royal we're used to seeing portrayed, her Elizabeth I is neutered and senile. It's an odd choice, to be sure, and one that ultimately doesn't work. There's some interesting physicality in the performance, but it's perhaps the weakest she's ever given.

Her daughter Joely Richardson plays a younger Elizabeth I. All of these flashback scenes are all for naught, really. They're structured hideously and the young actors are weak imitations of their elders.

The costumes and sets are so-so, but it's almost astonishing how instantly forgettable this is. Attempts at romance and mawkish drama fail.