I have realized that we really fell behind on our Oscar-winning songs countdown. True, it is time-consuming, but I know that a lot of you are interested in reading it. Plus, this is Oscar season, so the subject is timely. Today's year is 1951, a year when two of the most celebrated films of all-time came out. They were later both heavily plagiarized by Woody Allen, who went on to receive two Original (!!!) Screenplay nominations for his highly derivative scripts. Go figure!
We begin with a film that is among my all-time favorites - one of the most iconic movies of the 20th century. Although it was based on a smash Broadway play by one of the most celebrated playwrights, it was considered too sexy for the Hollywood standards of the early 1950s: The Production Code censors demanded 68 script changes from the Broadway staging, while the interference of the Catholic Legion of Decency led to even further cuts, most of them having to do with references to homosexuality and rape. In his memoirs, Tennessee Williams wrote that he liked the film but felt it was "slightly marred by the Hollywood ending."
Play and film director Elia Kazan wanted to work with his Broadway cast. In fact, nine members of the original Broadway cast (Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter, Karl Malden, Rudy Bond, Nick Dennis, Peg Hillias, Richard Garrick, Ann Dere and Edna Thomas) repeated their roles in the film, a highly unusual decision at the time and even today, when original casts of plays are often completely replaced for the film versions. However, Vivien Leigh, who had played Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind (1939), was selected to play Blanche DuBois over Jessica Tandy to add "star power" to the picture (Marlon Brando had not yet achieved full stardom in films; he would be billed under Leigh in the film's credits).
Vivien Leigh had already played Blanche in the first London production of the play, under the direction of her then-husband, Laurence Olivier. She later said that Olivier's direction of that production influenced her performance in the film more than Elia Kazan's direction of the film did.
There was some bad blood between Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando at the beginning of the shoot, but these conflicts had nothing to do with acting style. Brando was simply annoyed at Leigh's typically British manners and stuffiness. The two acting giants eventually became friends as the shoot progressed. Brando's dead-on perfect imitations of Leigh's then-husband Laurence Olivier's Henry V did much to break the ice between the two.
It seemed that the ice had really broken, not only between Leigh and Brando but also between Brando and Laurence Olivier. During the filming of A Streetcar Named Desire, in the garden of Vivien Leigh's mansion, David Niven discovered Brando and Laurence Olivier swimming in the pool. Olivier was kissing Brando. "I turned my back to them and went back inside to join Vivien. I'm sure she knew what was going on, but she made no mention of it. Nor did I. One must be sophisticated about such matters in life."
Whatever their personal relationship was, Leigh and Brando together created magic. This is the scene where they first meet:
The critics were ecstatic over both: The New York Times' Bosley Crowther said of Leigh: "Indeed, through the haunting performance England's great Vivien Leigh gives in the heartbreaking role of Mr. Williams's deteriorating Southern belle and through the mesmerizing moods Mr. Kazan has wreathed with the techniques of the screen, this picture, now showing at the Warner, becomes as fine, if not finer, than the play. Inner torments are seldom projected with such sensitivity and clarity on the screen."
More recently, Roger Ebert said of Marlon Brando: "You could make a good case that no performance had more influence on modern film acting styles than Brando's work as Stanley Kowalski, Tennessee Williams' rough, smelly, sexually charged hero."
"Before this role, there was usually a certain restraint in American movie performances. Actors would portray violent emotions, but you could always sense to some degree a certain modesty that prevented them from displaying their feelings in raw nakedness."
"Brando held nothing back, and within a few years, his was the style that dominated Hollywood movie acting. This movie led directly to work by Brando's heirs such as Montgomery Clift, James Dean, Jack Nicholson and Sean Penn."
The film itself, in 2007, was ranked as the #47 Greatest Movie of All Time by the American Film Institute.
Also of note: Mickey Kuhn, who plays the young sailor who helps Vivien Leigh onto the streetcar at the beginning of the film, had previously appeared with Leigh in Gone with the Wind (1939) as Beau Wilkes (the child of Olivia de Havilland's character Melanie), toward the end of that film when the character was age 5. When Mickey Kuhn mentioned this to someone else on the set of A Streetcar Named Desire, word got back to Leigh and she called him into her dressing room for a half-hour chat. In an interview in his seventies, Kuhn stated that Leigh was extremely kind to him and was "one of the loveliest ladies he had ever met."
Composer Alex North wrote and recorded the first ever jazz-orientated film score for a dramatic picture. The score served to color the sound of the film's steamy New Orleans setting. It has become a well-deserved landmark in the history of film music and paved the way for numerous movie jazz scores. Here's part of that wonderful score:
When the film was previewed in Santa Barbara in 1951, the director Elia Kazan's date was a then-obscure contract starlet, Marilyn Monroe, whom he introduced to Arthur Miller.
When the movie opened in the fall, Hollywood got word that many people were walking out on it, complaining that if this kind of filth was so big on Broadway, then it was no wonder Broadway was dying.
But then the tide changed, and crowds began to form to see for themselves what had made others walk out in disgust. A main attraction was Marlon Brando, whose two assets were displayed on the film's posters: his great reviews and his spellbinding looks.
When awards' time came around, the New York Film Critics showed their appreciation for the film: it was named Best Picture and also took Best Director and Best Actress. Brando was passed over for Best Actor for Arthur Kennedy, playing a blind war veteran in Mark Robson's Bright Victory.
62 years later, Woody Allen essentially remade A Streetcar Named Desire, modernizing it and calling it Blue Jasmine. It rightfully earned Cate Blanchett a Best Actress Oscar, but why was Allen nominated for Original instead of Adapted Screenplay? Your guess is as good as mine...
A Streetcar Named Desire was based on a hit play - the other big movie of the year, A Place in the Sun, was based on a best-seller by one of the great American writers, Theodore Dreiser. It was first published in 1925 and was called An American Tragedy. Woody Allen once again made a modernized version of it, called it Matchpoint, and managed to receive yet another Original Screenplay Oscar nomination. I blame Pavlov's theory: whenever the Academy wanted to honor a Woody Allen movie, it automatically handed out an Original Screenplay nomination. He had 16 of those, more than anyone else, including 3 wins. It appears to be a conditional reflex with the Academy...
Anyway, back to A Place in the Sun. It is also included among the American Film Institute's Top 100 Greatest American Movies. Paramount was reluctant to make the film, as it had already put Theodore Dreiser's novel on the screen in 1931 under its original title, An American Tragedy. The studio's lack of commitment ultimately changed when director George Stevens sued them for preventing him from working and therefore breaching his contract.
The box office failure of the 1931 adaptation of An American Tragedy prompted the filmmakers to seek an alternative title. One such title was The Prize. There was a $100 reward for whoever came up with the best new title, and George Stevens's associate Ivan Moffat successfully pitched for A Place in the Sun. He never received his $100 reward.
The male lead of the film would certainly be the other new-generation star of the early '50s aside from Brando, Montgomery Clift; he showed up for the shoot with his drama coach, Mira Rostova. This did not cause friction on the set because George Stevens simply barred Rostova from the premises, so Clift had to consult with her well out of Stevens' sight. Clift kept up such intensity as George, he would find himself drenched in sweat at the end of a scene. He told co-star Taylor that "that's the worst part about acting; your body doesn't know you're acting. It sweats and makes adrenalin just as though your emotions were real."
The part of Alice Tripp, played by Shelley Winters, was originally meant for Audrey Totter. However, she was under contract to MGM at the time and the studio wouldn't loan her out. Then George Stevens thought that Gloria Grahame would be perfect for the role of Alice and personally called her to play the part. However, Grahame's studio boss at RKO, Howard Hughes, also refused to loan her out.
Shelley Winters was determined to be tested for the part of Alice. At the time she was being cultivated as a sex symbol, so the night before she was due to see George Stevens, she dyed her hair brown and bought some especially dowdy clothes, the kind she had seen when she had visited a factory to see how the girls who worked there dressed. She deliberately arrived at the meeting place early and sat in a corner. When Stevens came in, he didn't even notice her until he was about to leave, when he suddenly realized that the mousy girl in the corner was actually Shelley Winters.
If the audience was going to sympathize with Montgomery Clift for knocking up and then knocking off sweet Shelley Winters, the girl he was doing it all for had better be worth it. She was. Seventeen-year-old Elizabeth Taylor starred as the alluring debutante.
With this film, Elizabeth Taylor found herself in the most demanding role of her career. George Stevens asked much of her in take after take, but Taylor appreciated the challenge. She was quoted as saying, "[Stevens] didn't make me feel like a puppet. He was an insinuating director. He gave indications of what he wanted but didn't tell you specifically what to do or how to move. He would just say, "'No, stop, that's not quite right,' and make you get it from your insides and do it again until it was the way he wanted it." Stevens himself saw what Taylor was up against: "If she thought I was more severe than needed, she'd spit fire. But the following morning she had forgotten it completely... She had enormous beauty but she wasn't charmed by it. It was there. It was a handicap and she discouraged people being over-impressed with it. She was seventeen, and she had been an actress all her life. The only thing was to prod her a bit into realizing her dramatic potential."
Elizabeth Taylor was also initially intimidated by the intense scenes she had to play with Montgomery Clift,"...because Monty was the New York stage actor and I felt very much the inadequate teenage Hollywood sort of puppet that had just worn pretty clothes and hadn't really acted except with horses and dogs." Clift put her at ease, and the two began a life-long friendship on the set. Here they are together in a scene from the film. The chemistry between them is undeniable.
Although the film was released in 1951, it was shot in 1949. Paramount Studios had already released its blockbuster Sunset Boulevard (1950) in 1950 when this film wrapped. The studio did not want what was sure to be another blockbuster in this film competing for Oscars with "Sunset Blvd." so it waited until 1951 to release this film, which actually pleased director George Stevens, as he would use the extra time to spend editing the film. As it turned out, the two films would have competed against each other at the Oscars had they been released the same year.
It was a wise decision, the critics loved it, the audience flocked to see it, and the Golden Globes awarded it its biggest prize, that of Best Picture - Drama. This is the film's remarkable score, by Franz Waxman:
The Golden Globes for Best Director and Best Actor - Drama went to Laslo Benedek and Fredric March respectively for the screen adaptation of another famous play: Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. Cameron Mitchell, Mildred Dunnock, and Howard Smith all repeated their Broadway roles in the film, while two-time Oscar winner Fredric March was a good fit for the lead. The young son was played by big-screen newcomer Kevin McCarthy.
According to Arthur Miller, in a 2000 essay entitled, "Are You Now Or Were You Ever?" Columbia asked Miller to sign an anti-Communist declaration to ward off the threat of picket lines by the American Legion at theaters showing Death of a Salesman. He refused. Instead, Columbia made another movie, a short film entitled Life of a Salesman to be shown with it. The short consisted of business professors from City College praising sales as a profession, and denouncing the character of Willy Loman. Miller wrote: "Never in show-business history has a studio spent so much good money to prove that its feature film was pointless."
Alex North was behind this impressive score as well:
The Golden Globe for Best Actress - Drama went to Oscar-winner Jane Wyman for her role as a sacrificial nursemaid in Curtis Bernhardt's The Blue Veil. Producer Jerry Wald hoped to coax Greta Garbo out of retirement for this role. He was unsuccessful. Then, prior to production, Bette Davis was the front-runner for the role. It went to Wyman instead - and became her favorite role.
The Golden Globe winner for Best Picture - Comedy or Musical went to An American in Paris. Gene Kelly had finally persuaded MGM to let him do his way. The go-to director for prestige musicals was Vincente Minnelli - and he was promptly hired to do the job. However, even though he is credited as the sole director, he was sometimes tied up with his divorce from Judy Garland and other directing projects, leaving Gene Kelly to take over the directing duties.
The movie was set in motion by producer Arthur Freed, who originally just wanted to buy the rights to the George Gershwin [link] number American in Paris, but Ira Gershwin (George's brother and collaborator) stated that he'd only sell on the condition that if a musical were to use the song, it would use only Gershwin numbers as its other songs. Freed took up the challenge; in fact, with this project, Freed saw the chance to combine two of his personal favorites - the music of George Gershwin and French Impressionism.
Irene Sharaff, the celebrated costume designer, designed a style for each of the ballet sequence sets, reflecting various French impressionist painters: Raoul Dufy (the Place de la Concorde), Edouard Manet (the flower market), Maurice Utrillo (a Paris street), Henri Rousseau (the fair), Vincent van Gogh - not French, but never mind... - (the Place de l'Opera), and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (the Moulin Rouge). The backgrounds took six weeks to build, with 30 painters working nonstop.
Gene Kelly discovered Leslie Caron while vacationing in Paris where he saw her perform in a ballet. A major reason Gene Kelly suggested Leslie Caron as the female lead was because he felt this movie needed a "real" French girl playing Lise, not just an American actress playing one. This movie was her film debut.
Leslie Caron didn't speak English at the time. She had a vague understanding of the language due to having an American mother but was not conversant. Luckily for her, the part didn't have many lines and was comprised of mostly dancing, a skill that Caron was very fluent in.
The film's most famous sequence - the climactic ballet - was not conceived until midway through production and was largely brought about due to Nina Foch's unavailability (the actress was out of the film for three days due to contracting chicken pox). Alan Jay Lerner came up with the idea for the ballet, and wrote it, in those three days. Even so, the ballet sequence was almost cut because the shooting was behind schedule, but MGM studio head Dore Schary stood by Arthur Freed, Vincente Minnelli and Gene Kelly in withholding the release of the movie because he felt the movie wouldn't be effective without it. Here is part of that celebrated scene. The film's scoring was done by the very capable Johnny Green and Saul Chaplin.
A Streetcar Named Desire, A Place in the Sun, and An American in Paris were all featured in that year's top 10 highest-grossing films. But the absolute top-grosser of the year was a historical religious spectacle, whose big success would fuel a series of mostly profitable religious epics during the rest of the 1950s and the early '60s, the most successful of which were The Robe, The Ten Commandments, and Ben-Hur.
We are talking about Quo Vadis, the movie whose huge box-office success was credited with saving MGM from bankruptcy. John Huston was the original director, under the supervision of producer Arthur Hornblow, of a cast headed by Gregory Peck as Marcus, and Elizabeth Taylor as Lygia. The studio was dissatisfied with the footage Huston was sending back from Rome, and production chief Louis B. Mayer, an arch-conservative, unhappy with the script, which used Nero's persecution of the Christians as an allegory for the anti-Communist witch-hunts to which Hollywood was then being subjected. After a couple of weeks' shooting, MGM shut down the production, ordered a new script written, recast the film, and persuaded Mervyn LeRoy (with a little help from Anthony Mann) to assume direction of the picture.
The new cast was headed by Deborah Kerr and Robert Taylor. In retrospect, I believe that Elizabeth Taylor and Gregory Peck would have been so much better. Still, Deborah Kerr and Robert Taylor were surrounded by able character actors, the most notable being Leo Genn as Petronius and Peter Ustinov as emperor Nero.
In his memoirs, "Dear Me" (1981), Ustinov recalled that MGM had sought him for the role of Nero, but dithered for months, refusing to commit. During this time he received numerous telegrams from the studio, one of which stated that they were concerned that he might be too young to play the notorious Roman emperor. Ustinov replied that Nero died when he was 30 and that if they waited much longer, he'd be too old. The studio cabled back: "Historical research has proved you correct. You have the part."
Peter Ustinov would later say that director Mervyn LeRoy gave him the perfect insight as to how to play Nero. LeRoy told him, "I see Nero as a guy who plays with himself nights."
Sophia Loren has an unbilled but easily spotted, bit part as a slave girl who strews flower petals in the path of Marcus' chariot during the triumphal march. Whilst, not her first film, it was her first American film, although it was shot in Italy. Also among the many actresses who tried out for a role in the film was a pre-stardom Audrey Hepburn.
One immediate problem encountered with the lions was that when they were released from their cages, they found the arena so hot they'd immediately retreat back into their cages under the stands. Director Mervyn LeRoy overcame this problem by having several costumes stuffed with raw meat and strewn around the ground. This made them appear to audiences to be "people", and the raw meat attracted the lions, who "attacked" and devoured them.
Miklós Rózsa composed an impressive score, that echoed what was to come in his most famous film-work, in Ben-Hur. This is part of his score:
There was another religious epic in the top 5 top-grossing films that year, and this one did star Gregory Peck: in David and Bathsheba he was partnered with Susan Hayward and directed by Henry King, one of several movies in which Peck and King worked together. Some critics were not very kind: according to one, the film gained "hardly a single intentional laugh". Others were more positively inclined: The New York Times opined, "Having been mounted artistically, an age-old tale now takes on colorful dimensions. For all of its verbosity and occasional slickness and sensuality, David and Bathsheba makes its point with feeling and respect." Anyhow, the producers laughed all the way to the bank.
The movie's score was composed by multi-Oscar winner, Alfred Newman:
John Huston may have not directed Quo Vadis, but he certainly had a fruitful year: he invited his drinking buddy, Humphrey Bogart, to an excursion to Africa. Huston's real desire was to go hunting, but he combined business with pleasure, coming up with a film called The African Queen, which turned out to have both great reviews and great box-office. Achieving a casting coup, he managed to persuade Katharine Hepburn to work with Bogart and him for the first time.
Sources claimed that everyone in the cast and crew got sick except Humphrey Bogart and John Huston, who said they avoided illness by essentially living on imported Scotch whiskey. Bogart later said, "All I ate was baked beans, canned asparagus, and Scotch whiskey. Whenever a fly bit Huston or me, it dropped dead."
Lauren Bacall famously ventured along for the filming in Africa to be with husband Humphrey Bogart. She played den mother during the trip, making camp and cooking. This also marked the beginning of her life-long friendship with Katharine Hepburn. According to cameraman Jack Cardiff, Katharine Hepburn was so sick with dysentery during the shooting of the church scene that a bucket was placed off camera because she vomited constantly between takes. Cardiff called her "a real trooper." In her book "The Making of 'The African Queen'" Hepburn said she rushed for the outhouse only to find a black mamba inside, then ran to the trees.
Oscar perennial William Wyler had his own hit movie, a realistic police drama based on a hit play called Detective Story, starring two rising stars, Kirk Douglas and Eleanor Parker, along with veterans William Bendix, George Macready, and Gladys George. The film featured an impressive newcomer, Lee Grant, in her first film role.
Decision Before Dawn was a taut war drama directed by Anatole Litvak, one of the first films after World War II to portray the German people - outside of the Nazi regime - in a sympathetic light.
It was a small-budgeted film. Leading actors Oskar Werner and Richard Basehart did most of their own stunt work, including jumping in and swimming the fast currents of the Rhine River on location in Germany. It was well-received.
The Nominations
Best Picture
An American in Paris
A Place in the Sun
A Streetcar Named Desire
Decision Before Dawn
Quo Vadis
Best Director
The African Queen: John Huston
An American in Paris: Vincente Minnelli
A Place in the Sun: George Stevens
A Streetcar Named Desire: Elia Kazan
Detective Story: William Wyler
Best Actor in a Leading Role
The African Queen: Humphrey Bogart
A Streetcar Named Desire: Marlon Brando
A Place in the Sun: Montgomery Clift
Bright Victory: Arthur Kennedy
Death of a Salesman: Fredric March
Best Actress in a Leading Role
The African Queen: Katharine Hepburn
A Streetcar Named Desire: Vivien Leigh
Detective Story: Eleanor Parker
A Place in the Sun: Shelley Winters
The Blue Veil: Jane Wyman
Best Actor in a Supporting Role
Quo Vadis: Leo Genn
A Streetcar Named Desire: Karl Malden
Death of a Salesman: Kevin McCarthy
Quo Vadis: Peter Ustinov
Come Fill The Cup: Gig Young
Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role
The Blue Veil: Joan Blondell
Death of a Salesman: Mildred Dunnock
Detective Story: Lee Grant
A Streetcar Named Desire: Kim Hunter
The Mating Season: Thelma Ritter
Best Writing, Story and Screenplay
Ace In The Hole
An American in Paris
David and Bathsheba
Go For Broke!
The Well
Best Writing, Screenplay
The African Queen
A Place in the Sun
A Streetcar Named Desire
Detective Story
La Ronde
Best Writing, Motion Picture Story
Bullfighter and the Lady
The Frogmen
Here Comes The Groom
Seven Days To Noon
Teresa
Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black-and-White
A Streetcar Named Desire
Fourteen Hours
The House on Telegraph Hill
La Ronde
Too Young To Kiss
Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Color
An American in Paris
David and Bathsheba
On the Riviera
Quo Vadis
The Tales of Hoffmann
Best Costume Design, Black-and-White
A Place in the Sun
A Streetcar Named Desire
Kind Lady
The Model and the Marriage Broker
The Mudlark
Best Costume Design, Color
An American in Paris
David and Bathsheba
The Great Caruso
Quo Vadis
The Tales of Hoffmann
Best Cinematography, Black-and-White
A Place in the Sun
A Streetcar Named Desire
Death of a Salesman
The Frogmen
Strangers on a Train
Best Cinematography, Color
An American in Paris
David and Bathsheba
Quo Vadis
Show Boat
When Worlds Collide
Best Film Editing
An American in Paris
A Place in the Sun
Decision Before Dawn
Quo Vadis
The Well
Best Sound, Recording
A Streetcar Named Desire
Bright Victory
The Great Caruso
I Want You
Two Tickets to Broadway
Best Documentary, Features
I Was A Communist for the F.B.I.
Kon-Tiki
There were two categories in which there was no agony till the actual ceremony: in Best Effects, Special Effects, there was only one nominee, the sci-fi adventure When Worlds Collide, which was, therefore, the winner by default. Also, the Foreign Language Film was still an honorary award, announced with the nominations. The choice for that year (quite rightly) honored Japan and Akira Kurosawa Venice Film Festival winner Rashomon, now considered one of the greatest films ever made.
As usual, we've left the music awards for last. Here they are:
Best Music, Scoring of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture
Franz Waxman (A Place in the Sun)
Alex North (A Streetcar Named Desire)
Alfred Newman (David and Bathsheba)
Alex North (Death of a Salesman)
Miklós Rózsa (Quo Vadis)
Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture
Oliver Wallace (Alice in Wonderland):
Johnny Green and Saul Chaplin (An American in Paris):
Peter Herman Adler, Johnny Green (The Great Caruso):
Alfred Newman (On the Riviera):
Adolph Deutsch, Conrad Salinger (Show Boat). From it, let's listen to my favorite rendition of an all-time great: Ol' Man River, as performed by William Warfield and the MGM chorus:
What about the songs? The nominees for Best Music, Original Song were:
Never, for the film Golden Girl • Music: Lionel Newman • Lyrics: Eliot Daniel. Performed by Dennis Day:
In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening, for the film Here Comes the Groom • Music: Hoagy Carmichael • Lyrics: Johnny Mercer. Performed by Jane Wyman and Bing Crosby:
Wonder Why, for the film Rich, Young and Pretty • Music: Nicholas Brodszky • Lyrics: Sammy Cahn. Performed by Jane Powell & Vic Damone:
Too Late Now, for the film Royal Wedding • Music: Burton Lane • Lyrics: Alan Jay Lerner. Performed by Jane Powell:
A Kiss to Build a Dream On, for the film The Strip • Music: Harry Ruby • Lyrics: Bert Kalmar and Oscar Hammerstein II. Performed by Kay Brown:
My favorite of the five is In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening, the fourth and final song to be performed in a film by Bing Crosby (joined here by Jane Wyman) and win an Oscar, following Sweet Leilani, White Christmas, and Swinging On A Star. Here Comes the Groom is one of the better Crosby comedy films - it was directed by Frank Capra, after all. It also feels right to see that a massive talent of his time like Hoagy Carmichael (the man who wrote Stardust) get Oscar recognition.
My second favorite would be A Kiss to Build a Dream On. Bert Kalmar's posthumous nomination may have taken the longest duration of any in history as it occurred in 1952 for a work heard in a 1951 film, which was four years after Kalmar passed away. As it turns out, A Kiss to Build a Dream On was written all the way back in 1935 by Kalmar and Harry Ruby. They just kept it on the proverbial shelf for years. Hammerstein added some lyrics, et voilà!
Here are a few more eligible songs that failed to be nominated:
Silver Bells, for the film The Lemon Drop Kid • Music & Lyrics: Jay Livingston and Ray Evans. Performed by Bob Hope & Marilyn Maxwell:
Slumber Trail, for the film Pals Of The Golden West • Music & Lyrics: Jack Elliott and Aaron González. Performed by Roy Rogers & Dale Evans:
A Very Merry Unbirthday, for the film Alice in Wonderland • Music & Lyrics: Mack David, Al Hoffman, and Jerry Livingston. Performed by Ed Wynn and Jerry Colonna with Kathryn Beaumont:
These are the films with more than two nominations each: A Streetcar Named Desire (12), A Place in the Sun (9), An American in Paris (8), Quo Vadis (8), Death of a Salesman (5), David and Bathsheba (5), The African Queen (4), Detective Story (4), The Great Caruso (3).
Since the instigation of five Best Picture nominees for the Academy Awards in 1944, Decision Before Dawn was the first Best Film nominee to only be nominated in one other category. This didn't happen again until 1994 when Four Weddings and a Funeral only picked up two nominations (including Best Film).
Even though the battle seemed to be between A Place in the Sun and A Streetcar Named Desire, An American in Paris' chances were augmented by two honorary awards: the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award would go to the film's producer, Arthur Freed, while Gene Kelly would also receive an honorary award "In appreciation of his versatility as an actor, singer, director, and dancer, and specifically for his brilliant achievements in the art of choreography on film."
The Winners
The spoils were divided among the three big ones: A Streetcar Named Desire went home with four: Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black-and-White as well as three acting awards, the first time ever this happened. It would happen again 25 years later, with Network. So, Leigh, Hunter, and Malden came out smiling, but not Brando: once more the Oscars chose the veteran who was long overdue over the hot young talent; the Oscar went to Hollywood legend Humphrey Bogart for The African Queen.
A Place in the Sun and An American in Paris each received six awards. For A Place in the Sun, George Stevens walked away with Best Director and Franz Waxman walked away with Best Music, Scoring of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture. The other four were Best Writing, Screenplay, Best Costume Design, Black-and-White, Best Cinematography, Black-and-White, and Best Film Editing.
However, it was An American in Paris that got the big one, for Best Picture. It seems that the two equally appealing dramas canceled each other out, thus making An American in Paris the second musical to ever win Best Picture since Broadway Melody did, 22 years earlier. The other five Oscars for An American in Paris were: Best Writing, Story and Screenplay, Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Color, Best Costume Design, Color, Best Cinematography, Color, and Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture.
Best Writing, Motion Picture Story went to the exciting British thriller Seven Days To Noon. The sea-faring Kon-Tiki was named Best Documentary, while the biopic The Great Caruso (starring Mario Lanza) was awarded Best Sound. The Best Song Oscar went to Hoagy Carmichael and Johnny Mercer for In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening, from Here Comes the Groom.
Joy was not what everybody felt about An American in Paris as Best Picture. Sidney Skolsky said it was a "shocker" and suggested a recount. The New York Times' Bosley Crowther, who had put the musical on his Ten Best list, fumed that it was unbelievable that the Academy had "so many people so insensitive to the excellencies of motion-picture art that they would vote for a frivolous musical picture over a powerful and pregnant tragedy."
When all is said and done, however, the History books will read that An American in Paris was the Best Picture for 1951. All the protestations will fade away over time...
Thank you John! I felt like i was there!!!
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful thing to say! Heartfelt thanks, Efie!!!
Delete💖🎼💓🎶💕🎼💕🎶💓🎼💖
Delete💖🎼💓🎶💕🎼💕🎶💓🎼💖
DeleteUnsung classic from 1951: "The Day the Earth Stood Still"! Best acting by a robot NOT named Robby. "A Kiss to Build a Dream On" is one of those songs I find myself humming all the time without thinking. My favorite version is the one by Louis Armstrong, but my sister had it on a single by Richard Chamberlin. When all is said and done, my favorite film of 1951 is probably "Strangers on a Train," with "The African Queen" and "Streetcar" vying for second place. "The Tales of Hoffmann" holds a special place in my heart, as does any film with Susan Hayward in it.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite version is the Louis Armstrong one too, Alan. Strangers on a Train should certainly have got more Oscar love - for me it's on the same level as A Place in the Sun, but I love A Streetcar Named Desire the most. The Tales of Hoffmann looks wonderful.
Delete"Streetcar" taught a whole generation of actors how to act. I just wish (as in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof") they'd been able to treat ALL the themes of the play more directly.
DeleteI so agree, Alan. Same goes for "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"
DeleteOr Breakfast At Tiffanys.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely.
Delete