Victim's Gold Stars: Smiling From The Sidelines

Finally! Here are the Gold Stars for Best Supporting Actress- which was, incidentally, easily the most hotly contested category of them all. It was painful to cut some of the women that didn't make it; the top runners up are mentioned at the end.


I didn't like Anthony Minghella's rather silly Breaking and Entering, but the one thing I found to truly like about it was the relationship that young actor Rafi Gavron and the experienced Juliette Binoche forged between their mother and son characters. Binoche affects a convincing Eastern European accent that somehow doesn't hinder her performance at all; she's a warm, tender mother, tough and steely to those contributing to her son's downward curve; and in the scenes with Jude Law's selfish architect, she's almost heartbreakingly vulnerable.

It's so rare that comic performances are appreciated, but Miss Blunt has seemed to be an exception to the rule: everyone except the Oscars, it seems, has jumped on this bandwagon, and I'll not be one to argue. As Miranda Priestly's devoted assitant, Emily Blunt mines this ultimately sidelined part for all its worth, snapping hilariously at Anne Hathaway's naive new recruit and delivering her lines- "I'm on this new diet. Well, I don't eat anything and when I feel like I'm about to faint I eat a cube of cheese. I'm just one stomach flu away from my goal weight"- with a superb combination of desperation and sarcastic disbelief. She's certainly one to be watched.

Pell James' arc from virgin to slut is not as crass as it might be, if The King weren't so cleverly written, and if Miss James weren't so note perfect at fleshing out the intracies of her character. As she lies beneath Elvis' rutting body for the first time, face pressing a hard, stony rock, James gives her eyes a disturbing glaciality; this is a girl being smashed to pieces, so she can be reassembled. As The King progresses, James nails her character's progression into a strange sort of nervous control- she knows what she wants, but she also knows where the line is, and she still doesn't really understand the man she's with. Director James Marsh is said to have been glad not to have known James' true age while filming; her years certainly don't show.

Mia Kirschner's face haunts the entireity of the rather disastrous Black Dahlia, which, although I would have been happier with a better film, is rather befitting the story; Elizabeth Short haunts the men investigating her death, who descend into a total mess of drink, violence and obsession. In black-and-white film clips, Mia Kirschner makes you understand far better than any of the rest of the film why these men become so obsessed; her eyes are big pools of ghostliness, her voice cracks and wavers, her body shivers and freezes. Elizabeth Short was a good actress; Mia Kirschner, perhaps, is a great one.

It's strange how many of my choices in this category have been from films I haven't really cared for; in the case of Venus, Jodie Whittaker pierces the heart of its crass and jokey heart, a brash teenager who swoops into the lives of an aging man and turns his world upside down. The man holds her up as a goddess, as Venus; but, as Whittaker so cannily portrays, she is just a girl, full of weaknesses and imperfections, wishing to overcome them and get her head round the strange relationship she develops with this older man. Whittaker does not try hard to gain your sympathy- she plays her character with unlikeable harshness at times, but the moments when her mask slips are so unconsciously beautiful, it almost seems like she's forgotten to act and is simply being herself.

Apologies to: Cate Blanchett, Babel; Vera Farmiga, The Departed; Eva Green, Casino Royale; Keeley Hawes, Tristram Shandy; Naomie Harris, Tristram Shandy; Danny Perea, Duck Season; Annabella Sciorra, 12 and Holding; Kerry Washington, The Last King of Scotland; Emily Watson, Wah-Wah

Victim's Gold Stars: Dress Sense

I'm not too big on costume (I could care less about what I wear, anyway) and yet it's so integral to movies; and so, here are 2006's five best at dressing their actors up. With specialized graphics!

BEST COSTUME DESIGN

Victim's Gold Stars: Facial Talent

It's all about looks in today's Gold Stars category: here are my picks for Best Make-Up.

The Devil Wears Prada, Get Real and C.R.A.Z.Y.

[The Devil Wears Prada (David Frankel, 2006): Meryl Streep's much-loved performance as uber-bitch boss Miranda Priestly (reportedly, though according to author Lauren Weisberger NOT based on Vogue editor Anna Wintour) is the reason to catch this bitchy- though, in many ways, familiar- comedy, especially since it's garnering her Oscar predictions all over the shop. Anna Hathaway holds her own in a rather underwhelming role as her new assistant, fashion-unconscious journalist Andrea Sachs, who gets a job at fashion magazine Runway as a stepping stone to better things. The basic outline of Andrea's story is obvious- forced to fit in, she unintentionally alienates her boyfriend and friends, then ultimately realises the error of her ways- but screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna does sprinkle a few surprises in Miranda's much more interesting story, and throws in a terrific role for British actress Emily Blunt as Miranda's other assistant Emily, a girl who is devoted to Runway and desperate to look great. Director Frankel keeps things afloat well enough, though it starts to feel a bit overstreched at points and it's never really as funny as it should be. But it's a must-see purely for the performances of Blunt and Streep- the first of whom deserves just as much attention as her legendary co-star. Grade: B-]

[Get Real (Simon Shore, 1998): This cliched and rather slow British coming-out drama puts the interesting twist of having it's central character already totally aware and accepting of his sexuality- Steven Carter (Ben Silverstone) is sixteen and cruises for older men in his local park, though only his best friend Linda (a sharp Charlotte Brittain) knows he's gay- even as his classmates constantly throw the traditional homophobic remarks his way, they don't actually believe he's that way inclined. But when, one day, his next-door neighbour in the park toilets turns out to be school sports hunk John Dixon (Brad Gorton), screenwriter Patrick Wilde brings out the traditional cliches of a young man struggling to accept himself. Get Real essentially pares down to a spate of melodramatic speeches, which Silverstone and particularly Gorton, in a surprisingly measured and tender performance, cope with well but are never able to truly sell. As it builds towards it's predictable climax, the only pleasures in watching Get Real comes the unravelling of Brittain's sparkling turn and Gorton's sympathetic hunk. If this is life at a British secondary school, I obviously skipped it. Grade: C]

[C.R.A.Z.Y. (Jean-Marc Vallee, 2005): The Canadian submission to 2005's foreign film Oscar selection, this unfortunately missed a nomination, but for those who can get it, this compelling study of Quebecian family life is well worth a watch. Fantastic performances from Michel Cote as the traditional father, Danielle Proulx as the more accepting mother and especially Marc-Andre Grondin as the central character anchor this all-encompassing story, ostentatiously concerning Zac's sexual confusion but in reality bracing a variety of issues we face growing-up, from religion to drugs. Director Vallee has a fascinating directorial hand, neither too constricting nor too loose, letting his actors fill out their roles fully while also adding some fascinatingly off-kilter touches and a bright colour palette to truly evoke the era the film charts (1960s-1980s). The much-touted soundtrack (the reason for a lack of release in the US) is indeed fantastic, with David Bowie and Patsy Cline providing much more than just background noise. If my grade is low for all this praise, it's only because I never really felt a personal connection, and perhaps because the story occasionally flew off in unneeded directions. But don't let that put you off giving C.R.A.Z.Y. a look whenever you can. Grade: B]