The mid-1960s weren't a happy time for Hollywood. The studios had become adept at making blandly prestigious pictures that audiences would go to see, but for which no one felt much enthusiasm. The lists of Best Picture nominees from the era are littered with the likes of Becket, Ship of Fools, and The Sand Pebbles. These weren't the money makers, though; "what paid studio bills were James Bond extravaganzas, John Wayne westerns, Elvis Presley quickies, [and] Dean Martin action comedies."
Something new was needed, and in Pictures at a Revolution, Mark Harris describes the moment when that something new began to arrive. His focus is on the five movies nominated for the 1967 Best Picture Oscar, an odd list in which "half of the movies seemed to be sneering at the other half." You had two successful studio pictures that dealt, albeit tepidly, with the issue of race (Guess Who's Coming to Dinner and In the Heat of the Night); one big-budget disaster that would help to kill the movie musical for nearly forty years (Doctor Dolittle); and two smaller, more personal films that drew huge audiences of younger moviegoers (The Graduate and Bonnie and Clyde).
What's most striking to me in Harris's reporting is the vividness of his portraits -- the insecurities of Dustin Hoffman (and the cruelty with which Mike Nichols used those insecurities on the set of The Graduate); the ambition of Warren Beatty, attempting to produce a film as a very young actor; the struggles of Sidney Poitier to balance his goals as an actor with the responsibility he felt to properly represent African-Americans on the screen.
The other thing that comes through with great force is just how difficult is to make a movie. The logistics, the number of people (and egos) involved, the financial challenges, the constantly shifting obstacles -- it's a marvel that any movie ever makes it to the multiplex.
The younger filmmakers in this book would dominate Hollywood for the next decade or so; the older ones are on the verge of fading into irrelevance. But of course, no one ever realizes in the moment that one is part of a historical sea change; every one is just trying to make a good flick.
Harris' reporting is detailed and thorough; his writing is always entertaining to read. I find myself wishing that he'd make this the first of a series, studying the Best Picture nominess from a different year in each volume. Pictures at a Revolution is a fine look at an industry on the verge of change.
3 comments:
I find myself wishing that he'd make this the first of a series, studying the Best Picture nominess from a different year in each volume.
Indeed. Perhaps unsurprisingly (given my quixotic Supporting Actress Sundays endeavor), though I do find myself fantasizing that Harris will do one for each decade or so (perhaps ala Ethan Mordden's series on the Broadway Musical).
I just adore the fact that he made this book.
The Mordden books are marvelous; I was so disappointed when he decided to cram the 80s and 90s into a single volume.
This subject really rings a bell with my mis-spent youth when I had free access to movies of that era in my early teens and before. Movies seemed to move into such uncharted subjects as the 60's progressed. It wasn't until much later in life that I realized what I had been witness to.
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