I was on the committee to nominate the category of Breakthrough Actor Performance, along with Bilge Ebiri of the Village Voice, David Ehrlich of Indiewire, Tim Grierson, VP of LA Film Critis, and Katie Walsh, critic for LA Times and other outlets. It was a HELL of a year for brand-new actors giving unbelievably memorable performances and we had quite a task, narrowing the field down. There were some clear front-runners from the get-go, but after that, a free-for-all of opinion. Finally, though, we narrowed it down to 5 nominees that we all could agree on – and happily, I might add.
And they are:
Sasha Lane, “American Honey,” directed by Andrea Arnold
Lucas Hedges, “Manchester by the Sea, directed by Kenneth Lonergan
Ana Taylor-Joy, “The Witch,” directed by Robert Eggers
Royalty Hightower, “The Fits,” directed by Anna Rose Holmer
Lily Gladstone, “Certain Women,” directed by Kelly Reichardt
Congratulations to all of the very worthy nominees. It’s a pleasure to acknowledge you!
I suppose I can mention this now, since my draft is in and there have been conference calls with the Dudes in Charge, and the train has most definitely left the station:
I have been asked to write the narration for the tribute reel that will play for editor Anne Coates at the Lifetime Achievement Oscars awards ceremony in November. You can see a list of the recipients here. (I also wrote the narration two years ago for Gena Rowlands’ Lifetime Achievement Oscar, which was read by Angelina Jolie.) The Oscar video dudes like my work and I was so pleased to be asked to pay tribute to Anne Coates!
Coates is a 90-year-old artist whose first job as editor, the first time she got full screen credit, was in 1952 with Pickwick Papers (although she had been second editor on the legendary The Red Shoes) and just last year she edited 50 Shades of Gray. (In her opinion, that last one should have been “raunchier.” She’s not wrong.) Of course she is most known for what is one of the most famous and celebrated cuts in cinema history in Lawrence of Arabia: going from a closeup of Peter O’Toole blowing out a match to the sun coming up over the desert. I have seen Lawrence on the big screen, and that cut – so breath-taking and so audacious at any size (TV screen, laptop, whatever) – is quite literally mind-blowing on the big screen. It’s RADICAL. How do you even begin to make the choice to do a cut like that? (Incidentally, they initially cut it like that because of a technological issue: they wanted it to be a dissolve but they had to wait a bit to see the result of that, due to the technology of the day. In the meantime, though, Lean and Coates both looked at that super blunt cut and thought: “Huh. It works really well like that, too, though, doesn’t it?”)
Editors go through entire careers without creating a cut that becomes as famous as that one.
In real time:
Along the way, she has edited Becket, The Horses’ Mouth, Murder on the Orient Express, The Elephant Man, Chaplin, In the Line of Fire, Out of Sight, Erin Brockovich, Unfaithful … and What About Bob?, and the inclusion of that film in that list makes me love her all the more. She has worked with legendary directors: Powell and Pressburger, John Ford, Jack Cardiff, Richard Attenborough, Peter Glenville, Wolfgang Petersen, Sidney Lumet. She loves working with younger directors, new names, those bringing energy and risk-taking into the profession. David Lynch. Steven Soderbergh. The seduction scene in Out of Sight is a masterpiece, and that is due in part to how Coates and Soderbergh decided to put it together, not to mention the choice to do these little freeze-frames. Sexy!
But of course, Anne Coates will go down in the history books for her Oscar-winning edit of Lawrence of Arabia (1962). The director David Lean was an editor himself, and he took a look at one of the first scenes she edited and said that she was the only editor he worked with where he saw what she did on her first pass and thought to himself: “That’s exactly how I would have done it.” It was a tremendously challenging job, with – literally – miles of footage of camels crossing the desert.
Another famous scene is the entrance of Ali (Omar Sharif), one of the most memorable character introductions in cinema history.
Coates is a rare one in that she believes that if you don’t need to cut, then don’t freaking cut: let a scene play out in one if it works. Initially they were going to cut away from Ali a couple of times during his legendary approach but then they saw how well it worked to just have him materialize, over an excruciatingly long period of time. You do not know if he is benign or malevolent. Maurice Jarre did the famous sweeping score of Lawrence, but there is no music playing beneath the scene. Nothing. We sit. And watch. And wait. Again: bold. Audacious. Radical. And RIGHT.
Speaking of her belief that if a scene CAN play out in one, then LET it play out in one: witness the slow push-in to Anthony Hopkins’ face when he first sees The Elephant Man. Lynch/Coates had talked a lot about how to “reveal” the Elephant Man, and this is a key moment. But instead of showing us the Elephant Man fully, Lynch stays on Hopkins, moving in closer, closer, closer, and at the closest point, a tear falls down his cheek. (THAT is acting technique, my friends.) Lynch was smart enough to know that the entire thing is about Hopkins’ reaction. Everything we need to know is on his face. And Coates – known as an “actor’s editor” for how well she takes care of performances (leaving them alone, for the most part, if they’re good), loved that choice. Look how beautiful.
I am thrilled to have been asked to pay tribute to this genius. So far there has been no word on who will read the script I’ve written, but the actress they have approached is an exciting prospect for me. Hopefully I will have given her something beautiful to read.
My copy of What If? A Chronicle of What Might Have Been, edited and illustrated by Sligo illustrator Annie West, arrived a couple of days ago and what a gorgeous and funny book it is, and I’m not just saying that because I’m one of the contributors! The majority of the contributors are Irish writers and so there’s a lot of Irish history “What Ifs”, for example one involving Éamon de Valera and one involving Michael Collins. But there are some pop culture ones too. I was excited to see that someone had written a Robert Johnson “What If”.
Months ago, she reached out and asked for my pitches of what I wanted to write about. I had a bunch of ideas, sent them all to her. She picked the one that ended up appearing in the book. The one she picked feels like it was meant to be.
And her ILLUSTRATION for it. I can’t get over it.
LOOK. AT. HIM.
But you’ll have to buy the book to find out what happened if Elvis had lived.
The surrender at Yorktown, which ended the American Revolutionary War.
The day before:
General Lord Charles Cornwallis to General George Washington, October 18, 1781
I agree to open a treaty of capitulation upon the basis of the garrisons of York and Gloucester, including seamen, being prisoners of war, without annexing the condition of their being sent to Europe; but I expect to receive a compensation in the articles of capitulation for the surrender of Gloucester in its present state of defence.
I shall, in particular, desire, that the Bonetta sloop of war may be left entirely at my disposal, from the hour that the capitulation is signed, to receive an aid-de-camp to carry my dispatches to Sir Henry Clinton. Such soldiers as I may think proper to send as passengers in her, to be manned with fifty men of her own crew, and to be permitted to sail without examination, when my dispatches are ready: engaging, on my part, that the ship shall be brought back and delivered to you, if she escapes the dangers of the sea, that the crew and soldiers shall be accounted for in future exchanges, that she shall carry off no officer without your consent, nor public property of any kind; and I shall likewise desire, that the traders and inhabitants may preserve their property, and that no person may be punished or molested for having joined the British troops.
If you choose to proceed to negociation on these grounds, I shall appoint two field officers of my army to meet two officers from you, at any time and place that you think proper, to digest the articles of capitulation.
Cornwallis realized that aid would not come in time, and after two days of bombardment he sent a drummer out into view, who apparently was beating the rhythm of: “STOP! LET’S TALK!!!” A British officer high in rank came forward, was blindfolded and taken to George Washington (who was on his last legs himself).
The surrender document had already been drawn up, with Washington dictating the terms. Here are the Articles of Capitulation.
Over 7,000 soldiers surrendered at Yorktown.
The story goes that as the defeated army marched away, the band played “The World Turned Upside Down”. I did a quick Google search and found a lot of defensive impassioned people out there who feel the need to shout out into the wilds of the Internet with such comments as: “There is NO evidence that ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ was played …” I love nerds who take sides in meaningless historical debates like this. I adore them. I’m a nerd like that. But still. Whether or not it happened, it’s a good story. There are a couple of versions of said song (which has, by itself, a long interesting history). Here is one of the versions:
If buttercups buzz’d after the bee,
If boats were on land, churches on sea,
If ponies rode men and if grass ate the cows,
And cats should be chased into holes by the mouse,
If the mamas sold their babies
To the gypsies for half a crown;
If summer were spring and the other way round,
Then all the world would be upside down.
Dr. James Thacher, who served in the Continental Army, is one of our eyewitnesses of the capitulation, and he published his version of events a couple of years later, the relevant passage being:
“At about twelve o’clock, the combined army was arranged and drawn up in two lines extending more than a mile in length. The Americans were drawn up in a line on the right side of the road, and the French occupied the left. At the head of the former, the great American commander [George Washington], mounted on his noble courser, took his station, attended by his aides. At the head of the latter was posted the excellent Count Rochambeau and his suite. The French troops, in complete uniform, displayed a martial and noble appearance; their bands of music, of which the timbrel formed a part, is a delightful novelty, and produced while marching to the ground a most enchanting effect.
The Americans, though not all in uniform, nor their dress so neat, yet exhibited an erect, soldierly air, and every countenance beamed with satisfaction and joy. The concourse of spectators from the country was prodigious, in point of numbers was probably equal to the military, but universal silence and order prevailed.
It was about two o’clock when the captive army advanced through the line formed for their reception. Every eye was prepared to gaze on Lord Cornwallis, the object of peculiar interest and solicitude; but he disappointed our anxious expectations; pretending indisposition, he made General O’Hara his substitute as the leader of his army. This officer was followed by the conquered troops in a slow and solemn step, with shouldered arms, colors cased and drums beating a British march. Having arrived at the head of the line, General O’Hara, elegantly mounted, advanced to his excellency the commander-in-chief, taking off his hat, and apologized for the non-appearance of Earl Cornwallis. With his usual dignity and politeness, his excellency pointed to Major-General Lincoln for directions, by whom the British army was conducted into a spacious field, where it was intended they should ground their arms.
The royal troops, while marching through the line formed by the allied army, exhibited a decent and neat appearance, as respects arms and clothing, for their commander opened his store and directed every soldier to be furnished with a new suit complete, prior to the capitulation. But in their line of march we remarked a disorderly and unsoldierly conduct, their step was irregular, and their ranks frequently broken.
But it was in the field, when they came to the last act of the drama, that the spirit and pride of the British soldier was put to the severest test: here their mortification could not be concealed. Some of the platoon officers appeared to be exceedingly chagrined when giving the word “ground arms,” and I am a witness that they performed this duty in a very unofficer-like manner; and that many of the soldiers manifested a sullen temper, throwing their arms on the pile with violence, as if determined to render them useless. This irregularity, however, was checked by the authority of General Lincoln. After having grounded their arms and divested themselves of their accoutrements, the captive troops were conducted back to Yorktown and guarded by our troops till they could be removed to the place of their destination.”
One of my favorite sites, Boston 1775, describes the blame-game that ensued, following the capitulation, between the British generals.
On the map you can see the positions of the British Army commanded by Cornwallis, and you can see the American and French forces commanded by Washington. And check out the French fleet (under Count de Grasse) comin’ down the pike!
And finally: here is a story I love. Again, perhaps it’s apocryphal, or even an out-and-out fabrication, but I love it nonetheless.
Benjamin Franklin was in Paris at the time of the surrender at Yorktown. He was there as a diplomat, and a walking-talking advertisement of Teh Awesome Colonies. He played chess, he drank, he socialized, he wore fur-lined hats, he was a great storyteller, and France went wild for him. One of the first international celebrities.
Word came to France of the decisive American victory, and the complete surrender to George Washington in Yorktown. Franklin attended a diplomatic dinner shortly thereafter where everyone was discussing the British defeat.
The French foreign minister stood, and toasted Louis XVI: “To his Majesty, Louis the Sixteenth, who, like the moon, fills the earth with a soft, benevolent glow.”
The British ambassador rose and said, “To George the Third, who, like the sun at noonday, spreads his light and illumines the world.”
Franklin rose and countered, “I cannot give you the sun or the moon, but I give you George Washington, General of the armies of the United States, who, like Joshua of old, commanded both the sun and the moon to stand still, and both obeyed.”
CODA
I would like to point out that I first wrote this piece in 2008, long before Hamilton came along. I’ve been an American Revolutionary War buff since … well, I was born into it. My family is a Boston family. It’s the air we breathed. But also my Irish immigrant family had absorbed the story into their bones and hearts. “John and Abigail” (no last names) were discussed in such a casual familiar way that when I was a kid I thought they were members of our family. So I just need to point this out. When I sat there in the audience at Hamilton (hands down, the most exciting night I’ve ever had in the theatre), and the Battle of Yorktown commenced, I felt a thrill of connection. I loved so much that Lin Manuel Miranda had incorporated the legend/myth/apocryphal-who-cares story about the British soldiers singing the old drinking song “The World Turned Upside Down,” as they marched off. The end of the song, the end of the war.
So honored to have been asked to write the essay for Criterion’s release of Jack Garfein’s forgotten 1961 masterpiece, Something Wild. Developed independently, using Actors Studio people in the lead roles (Carroll Baker, Ralph Meeker, and Mildred Dunnock), Something Wild is one of the first truly independent films in America, and pioneering not only in its subject matter (rape and PTSD), but pioneering in its treatment of these subjects.
The film was not a success and for decades it has been unavailable, not on VHS, not on DVD. It was a Holy Grail to those of us who wanted to see it but could not. A couple of years ago, it was released in a bare-bones edition on DVD. But now, FINALLY, Something Wild is being given the treatment it deserves, with a ton of special features, and interviews (beautifully: both director AND lead actress are still alive to see this day!) There will be an interview with the director by Kim Morgan – whose championing of the film over the years has been essential in raising awareness that the film even exists – an interview with Carroll Baker, and an interview with Foster Hirsch about the Actors Studio and its legacy. (Just last week, at the Film Forum’s 60th anniversary screening of Giant, I attended a pre-screening QA with Carroll Baker and George Stevens Jr. moderated by Foster Hirsch.)
More information – plus link to pre-order Something Wild – here.
The SECOND film in 2016 dealing with Christine Chubbuck, the news reporter who committed suicide on-air in 1974. This one stars Rebecca Hall. It’s not perfect, and I’m not sure what the POINT is, but Hall is great. (Everyone is great.)
What an interesting film! Nary a cliche in sight! You keep thinking one will show up, but nope. Little Sister determinedly remains recognizably human, individualistic.
