Women on the Verge of a Nomination

So I was having lunch with my good friend Carol yesterday and our conversation quickly turned, as it always does among likeminded movie fans at this time of year, to the Oscars.

After agreeing to disagree on the merits (or lack thereof) of The Departed and Dreamgirls, we could at least concur on the much-praised performances of Mark Wahlberg and Jennifer Hudson. However, this prompted my reinvigorated rant regarding Hudson’s place among supporting actresses. Again, I would wager that she has just as much screen time as most of the Best Actress nominees. Compare this juggernaut performance to Oscar winning turns like Judi Dench’s in Shakespeare in Love, or Beatrice Straight’s peek-a-boo cameo in Network, and you have to agree wiht me. At least a little bit.

Hudson’s much-deserved acclaim and newfound celebrity cannot be disputed. She’s great. It’s just too bad that the other four nominees in her category, who are truly supporting, are being eclipsed. And then this past week, I need to add two more prize-worthy thespians to this group: Shareeka Epps in Half Nelson and the amazing, glorious Carmen Maura in Volver.

Epps, along with star Ryan Gosling and director Ryan Fleck, has garnered various newcomer and breakthrough awards for this film (plus a Best Supporting Actress nod from the Boston critics). As a wise-beyond-her-years inner city kid named Drey, Epps is lovely and tough and even a little heartbreaking. Award-caliber work, without a doubt. Just don't look for her at the Kodak next weekend. What a shame.

And then there is Maura. Where to begin? Let’s just say I came to Almodóvar because of her. It started around 1987 when I saw her in Law of Desire and immediately sought out anything else available on video. This quickly led me to a festival of early 80's comedies, all a little raw and naughty and smart, and all of them directed by Almodóvar. In other words, I ended up discovering one of my favorite directors by way of Carmen Maura.

Anyone who has seen Law of Desire can surely understand my fascination. To even begin to describe her fabulously fascinating character, Tina, one needs to give away about half of the plot turns. Just see it, ok? Maura has won a bounty of awards and nominations from various European film circles, including 4 Goyas. This one should have brought her an Oscar.

And while you’re at it, check out 85’s What Have I Done to Deserve This?, Almodóvar’s last raggedy-looking comedy before his production budgets began to soar. This is the one where Maura plays Gloria, a poor and put-upon cleaning lady who one day knocks off her abusive husband (she whacks him with a ham bone) and sells her randy teenage son to a dentist. And you really can’t blame her. Especially when the money earned on the sale allows her to buy a much-needed curling iron.

Anyway, a couple of years later, around the time of the dazzling Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, I wrote a piece on the Maura-Almodóvar partnership for the Dallas Observer about the time Cinevista video released some of their earlier projects. Searching through the archives this week, I found the article and must admit I pretty much agree with my rather giddy appreciation of Almodóvar’s talents. Focusing on Maura’s performances, I enthused….

Maura is even more mesmerizing in Law of Desire, Almodóvar’s dizzying sex-and-murder farce in which the black and white creepiness of film noir has been colorized with shocking acrylics….anarchy rules with often hilarious results. The film bubbles with betrayal, death, and copulation all fused together in a giddy observation of sex roles and gender confusion. At the middle of this whirlwind is Maura’s Tina, a voluptuous, tarty tornado who plows through life like a one-woman Greek tragedy. Scenery chewing is too often the result of unattractive egomania, but Maura somehow manages to tun it into something resembling an art form, something almost heroic…..like the Griffith-Gish and Bergman-Ullmann collaborations before them, Almodóvar and Maura seem to have found in each other the perfect partnership between director and star. Long may they conspire to delight us.

Alas, they actually went their separate ways after this and I must admit finding the director’s follow-ups much less interesting (especially stuff like The Flower of My Secret and Kika). Then the wonderful Talk to Her, and All About My Mother, and Bad Education came along, making way for the beautiful Volver which, for me, is just about perfect as it sustains the artistry of his recent movies and is enhanced by the return of Maura to his marvelous company of great dames. It’s especially fun to see her sharing a movie again with Chus Lampreave, the Thelma Ritter of Almodóvar’s stock company. They go back more than 20 years to that wacky (and, frankly, not so great) comedy about, well, wacky nuns, Dark Habits. When she first appears, it is a startling and breathtaking moment. It's almost as if her Gloria has returned, only a little older and wiser, and this is a reason to celebrate. From that point on she brings balance and dignity and quiet, heartwarming humor to a great tragicomedy about mothers and daughters. And while we cheer Maura and Lampreave, let's not overlook Penelope Cruz in the best role of her career, as well as Blanca Portillo, Yohanna Cobo and Lola Duenas, all of whom shared the Best Actress honors at Cannes this year.

I'm starting to ramble, I guess. Let's wrap this one up with a big thumbs-up to Sony Classics recent Viva Pedro which brings together eight of the director’s best works. The earliest movies aren’t included and I would certainly make a case for a DVD release of Labyrinth of Passion from 1982. Among its many delights, it introduces two of Almodóvar’s favorite players: the delightful Cecilia Roth (later to star in All About My Mother for which she deserved an Actress of the Decade award, if you ask me) and a 22-year-old Antonio Banderas in his second movie, warming up for his impossibly sexy scene stealing in Matador and Law of Desire a few years hence. It's crazy and a little reckless; its breathless rollercoaster of a plot and dizzying pacing prepare us for many of the great comedies yet to come.

Viva Pedro indeed. And Carmen, too. In my book, this year’s best supporting actress.