The LAMB Devours the Oscars - Best Costume Design

Editor's note: Welcome to the twenty-fourth of a 33-part series dissecting the 82st Academy Awards, brought to you by the Large Association of Movie Blogs and its assorted members. Every day leading up to the Oscars, a new post written by a different LAMB will be published, each covering a different category of the Oscars. To read any other posts regarding this event, please click the tag following the post. Thank you, and enjoy!










By Pat of Doodad Kind of Town.

I'm thrilled to be covering the category of Best Achievement in Costume Design for the third consecutive year. As I tell Fletch every time I volunteer for this assignment, "It's my favorite award!" For as long as I can remember, I've loved looking at fashion almost as much as I've loved watching movies. In this Oscar category, my two passions are happily merged.

Of course, the true aim of the costume designer is not just to design beautiful clothing (although God knows the list of films honored in this category over the years have been loaded with gorgeous garb); it's to create costumes that accurately reflect the times and lives of the characters who wear them. In a perfect world, the costumer manages both to dazzle us with his/her sartorial artistry and to give the film's characters something to wear that tells us more about who they are than we'd glean from the plot and dialogue alone.

Every year when I write this post, I'm always amazed at how brilliantly the nominees fulfill these objectives. When you look closely at fine film costuming, you'll always see the the ways in which the right dress, the right color or the most deceptively innocuous period detail can tell us volumes about the character who wears it.

2009 saw a wealth of fine film costuming efforts, and I was sad to see that two of the finest (Julie and Julia and Cheri) were overlooked entirely by the Academy. As for those that did score a nomination, well, let's take a look....


The Best Costume nomination for The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus took me entirely by surprise. It's not that the costumes weren't witty, imaginative and complex - it's just that they seem all of a piece with the phantasmagorical art direction and special effects that are the hallmark of any Terry Gilliam film fantasy. Just look at this still. Don't those characters seem to blend in with the theatrical backdrop that surrounds them? I suppose that creating costumes which seamlessly blend into the overall set direction scheme represents some sort of achievement, but I predict that costumer Monique Prudhomme will not be taking home the statuette for Parnassus this year. (An Oscar win for art direction, however, is entirely within the realm of possibility.)

Colleen Atwood is a two-time winner of this category, both times for her work on films directed by Rob Marshall. (Chicago and Memoirs of a Geisha) She's been nominated frequently for her work with Tim Burton, too. But I'm not convinced that Atwood deserves the Oscar for her latest collaboration with Marshall on Nine, and I'm frankly a little disappointed to see it on the slate of nominees. (Actually, I have a lot of disappointments with Nine, but they're mostly documented elsewhere.)

Atwood's designs are serviceable enough in evoking the hip heyday of Fellini's 8 1/2, and, for the most part, they're character-appropriate as well. This screaming scarlet ensemble on Penelope Cruz, for example, when contrasted with the throng of grey or black-clad extras in the scene does effectively show that Cruz' character is unconcerned about keeping her affair with Guido a secret. I also liked the simple shirtwaists she chose for Marion Cotillard (although I'm thoroughly sick of hearing Cotillard's character compared to Audrey Hepburn. She's not - she's a brunette version of Guilietta Masina, and that little ponytail she wears is a subtle nod to Masina's Nights of Cabiria look.)

But I'm less happy with Atwood's other creation for Cruz. Below you see the late Anita Morris who originated the role of Carla in the 1983 stage production. She's wearing a sublime, utterly iconic costume created by legendary theatrical costumer William Ivey Long (who won the Tony.) It's witty, playful, scandalous (Morris was banned from performing "Phone Call from the Vatican" on the Tony telecast because of it) - and over the top. Few women would attempt to wear this in real life, but you know what Carla's all about the minute you glimpse this get-up.


This, by contrast, looks very much like something you could pick up in the lingerie section at Target. Where's the wit? Atwood generally thinks outside the box, but her designs for Nine show little imagination or originality. No Oscar for her, methinks.


Sandy Powell has a couple of Oscars to her credit as well, (Shakespeare in Love and The Aviator) and her work on The Young Victoria this year is the stuff of which Best Costume Design winners are frequently made. Those of who think of Queen Victoria as a lumpy old lady in widow's weeds got a fetching eyeful of her youthful wardrobe (Powell had access to Victoria's actual gowns as part of her research) and a heaping helping of the spectacular dresses and fancy frippery that Oscar voters salivate over each year.

Queen Victoria's greatest contribution to fashion was wearing a frilly white dress at her wedding to Price Albert - a tradition that survives to this day. And the gown you see below is a pretty faithful recreation of the real Victoria's dress (although from everything I can see, even in her princess days, Victoria was no Emily Blunt. I'm just sayin'.)

However the crowing costume achievement of The Young Victoria is this dress, the lavish ball gown which Victoria wears to the ball where she first goes public with her affections for Albert. It's a gorgeous gold confection trimmed in roses, even if its impact is somewhat marred by the unfortunate special effect by which Blunt glides into the ballroom as if on one of those people movers they have at the airport. Brava to Ms. Powell. This film will be a strong contender for the award.


Jane Campion's Bright Star is about the doomed love between poet John Keats and Fanny Brawne, but it's also about the patience and intense labor required to create truly beautiful things, whether they be poems or intricately constructed lace collars like the one on Abbie Cornish's gown below. We actually see that collar being created in early scenes, and we get an accurate idea of just how much skill and talent it takes to design and construct it. That alone makes Bright Star a deserving nominee, but Janet Patterson's overall design work is award-worthy as well. The characters in this film are not rich - Keats, in fact, is downright penniless - but they are all creative and imaginative. And you can tell all of that from the way they're dressed.


Finally, there's the "no brainer" nominee, Coco Avant Chanel, a biopic of the famed, innovative French designer's early days. The film does its job, albeit in a workmanlike manner, of showing us how Chanel's sense of style evolved and set her apart.

Those who remember Audrey Tatou primarily as the darling gamine of Amelie may be surprised to see how raw-boned and plain she looks in her early scenes as the young Chanel, and I give the credit to costumer Catherine Leterrier. Moving among a sea of swans - ladies in tightly corseted gowns and huge, elaborate hats covered in feathers and lace- Chanel is a wide-eyed ugly duckling in mannish trousers, stiff shirtwaists and plain straw hats. It's clear she doesn't see herself that way, and she's ahead of her time in rejecting the constricting corsets and ridiculous frippery in which the beautiful women around her drape themselves. You can see her striving for her own personal style, making bold statements with her clothing, but somehow falling short of chic.

Then Chanel falls in love, and to go dancing with her lover, she has a low-cut black dress made to be worn sans corset. The appearance of that dress is the clear dividing point of the film, the moment at which Chanel's personal style breaks through from stubbornly iconoclastic to elegant. And the film's greatest weakness is that it never properly showcases the black dancing dress. See if you can even find Tatou in this shot below. In a whirling sea of white lace, that dress should have been given the opportunity to announce itself, but we're barely given one good glimpse. For a film that's all about fashion, this was a major gaffe.

In the film's later scenes, we begin to see the Chanel of legend, the modern woman with cropped hair and elegantly tailored suits such as this one. (And we learn the hidden bonus of this simpler way of dressing - as Chanel's lover proclaims "You're so easy to undress!") The final scene is the showstopper: a seeming endlessly parade of models in Chanel designs descending a chrystalline spiral staircase as the designer herself looks on joylessly, sitting on the stair in her trademark collarless white suite, cigarette in hand. Those costumes are spectacular, but I doubt we can give Leterrier the credit for that. Those have got to be the real Chanel deal.

In dramatic terms Coco Avant Chanel feels formulaic and predictable to me. In fashion terms, it doesn't entirely succeed in showing us what made Coco Chanel an icon, and that's largely because the film's plodding screenplay and direction are all about making Chanel into a sad, lonely figure rather than glorying in what she created It's not that the costumes are bad - they're great - but director Anne Fontaine isn't interested in showcasing them. Coco Avant Chanel should have been the shoo-in winner for this year's Best Costume Design award, but I'm predicting that The Young Victoria will beat it handily.

The LAMB Devours the Oscars - Best Costume Design

Editor's note: Welcome to the fifteenth of a 24-part series dissecting the 81st Academy Awards, brought to you by the Large Association of Movie Blogs and its assorted members. Every day leading up to the Oscars, a new post written by a different LAMB will be published, each covering a different category of the Oscars. To read any other posts regarding this event, please click the tag following the post. Thank you, and enjoy!










By Pat of Doodad Kind of Town.

I love this category so much that I'm covering it for the second year. And what I wrote by way of introduction in 2008 still applies, so with your kind permission, I'm going to quote myself here:

"Ah, the Best Costume Design category! Wherever you find an award for achievement in Costume Design, you’ll find a list of period pictures: films full of ball gowns, royal robes, and the haute couture of the decades gone by. If it’s visually sumptuous and it’s set in a bygone era, it’s likely to get a nomination in this category. At least that’s been my impression over the years.

I was discussing this category recently with my friend, Bill, who’s been a costumer for many local theatre productions. Bill reminded me that good costume design isn’t just about making beautiful, elaborate clothes for period pictures. It’s about creating costumes that tell you something about the characters while being appropriate to the time period of the film.

It was Bill who informed me that an Oscar for Best Costume Design had gone to “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” - a film that (I dimly recall) featured Richard Burton in a ratty old cardigan and Liz Taylor alternating between a shapeless old sweater and a slutty top with a plunging neckline. Of course, that was in 1966, when the Academy still presented two Costume Design Oscars each year, one for a color film and one for black-and-white. The Costume Design award for color films that year went to “A Man for All Seasons,” an historical drama. The following year, the awards were combined into a single category - and, with a few notable exceptions (“Star Wars”, “All That Jazz”, “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert”) - the winners have been period films ever since."

Yep, all that still holds true in 2008 (last year's winner "Elizabeth: the Golden Age" was full of elaborate 16th century gowns and robes). And Bill, my friend and frequent moviegoing companion, still influences and informs my take on this year's Best Costume Design nominees.

First there's "Revolutionary Road," Sam Mendes' take on suburban marital angst in the 1950s. Many people I know who've seen this film and are also old enough to remember the 1950s (Bill included) have oohed and aahhed over the female characters' attire, saying things like "I remember when my mom wore dresses just like that!" So we've got to give Albert Wolsky credit for period accuracy.

And it's hard to not to think of "Mad Men" when we see Leonardo DeCaprio in a snappy gray suit and hat like this one (even though "Revolutionary Road" is set five years earlier than that TV series. But then, how much would mens' suits change in five years? Probably not much.)

But what do the costumes tell us about the characters who wear them? Well, if you watch Kate Winslet's April Wheeler closely, you notice that she tends to wear kind of drab, colorless clothes, and pulls her back in a casual ponytail. But she gets noticeably more gussied up once she's decided the family is going to move to Paris. (as in the photo below where she's headed to the travel agent to pick up the tickets. White gloves yet!)

She also wears a darling little ice blue sheath with a fetching cutout design at the neck when she and Frank head over to the neighbors' to announce their upcoming move.

And when the Paris plans go awry, she's back to ponytails and drab colors - not for nothing, is her final ensemble a hastily tossed on, completely beige skirt and blouse.

It's pretty hard to miss the fact that April's attention to her attire- or lack of it - is an good indicator of her state of mind. In fact, it's so obvious that it feels heavy-handed. I actually like "Revolutionary Road" very much, but not for the costuming.

Another nominee I was tempted to dismiss is "Milk." I mean, it's set in the 1970s, a decade I well remember. What's so hard about combing the thrift stores for bell bottom jeans, t-shirts, denim jackets and a few wide ties?

But then I noticed something. This movie is full of gay men - partying, protesting, planning political strategy or just hanging out - and there's scarcely a feather boa, a rhinestone, or a patch of pink or lavender to be seen. In other words, a refreshing absence of cliched queeny-flamboyant drag. (Ok, there is a drag queen at Harvey's birthday party, but as drag queens go, she's pretty subdued.) The gay men in "Milk" look and dress like all men looked and dressed in the 70s, and doesn't that nicely underscore the film's point that all of us - regardless of sexual orientation - share a common humanity? So cheers to costume designer Danny Glicker for that.

And here's something else I think "Milk" get right with regard to costumes. In real life, when Harvey Milk cut off his ponytail and cleaned up his image in order to make a serious run for city supervisor, he bought three suits from a thrift store and wore them over and over. And Sean Penn's suits do look considerably cheaper than, say, Mayor Moscone's. (In fact, Mayor Moscone, in this film anyway, is one noticeably sharp-dressed man. Wouldn't it be interesting to know if that detail was true to life.)

The major costuming achievement of "Australia" is Nicole Kidman's transformation for prim and prissy English aristocrat to sleek and sexy Outback babe. When she first arrives down under, she's working ruffly, fussy, unsuitable duds like this suit:

After she gets a little down and dirty and falls in love with Hugh Jackman, however, Kidman works her snug khaki shirts and trousers like nobody's business. But the ultimate costume moment in "Australia" has to be the ball where Kidman enters in this curve-hugging, keyhole neck-lined, burgundy cheongsam, glimmering like an exotic ruby amongst a sea of matronly pastel ruffles and bows.

Kidman looks radiant in this number (and Jackman cleans up pretty good in his white dinner jacket, too.) But we can't give all the credit to costumer Catherine Martin; a good bit of Kidman's radiance is due to her just-about-visible pregnancy. (This last bit of information is not just guesswork on my part; it was taken from Elle's November 2008 cover story on Kidman.)

Probably the most ambitious of the nominees is "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," for which costume designer Jacqueline West had to dress a wide range of characters from a wide range of locations and time periods: residents of an old folks home in the 1920s, an English diplomat's wife in the late '30s, Broadway dancers in the 50s, to name only a few. Oh, and the inversely aging Benjamin in all those decades and then some. West's costuming is fine, although Benjamin's chambray shirts, suspenders and jackets are about as bland and unmemorable as Brad Pitt's performance.

The crown jewel in the film from a costumer's view is the ravishing fashion icon, Cate Blanchett, who plays Benjamin's lifelong love, Daisy. With her milky white skin and sleek curtain of auburn hair, Blanchett is a designer's dream. And naturally, she gets all the great outfits; I especially like this little number:

If clothes tell us anything about Daisy, it's this: she's spunky, bold and ambitious. After all, it's not just any redhead who would dare to wear this much red.

There's also this lovely frock in which she dances in the moonlight for Benjamin. (Unfortunately, the only picture I could find doesn't do it justice):

In the final analysis, however, there's only film to which my fashionista heart belongs - and I believe the Oscar will follow. And yes, it's the big, elaborately costumed period drama.

"The Duchess" gives us Keira Knightley as Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire. Among other things, she was noted trendsetter and fashion plate in 18th century England, so the elaborate, eye-popping gowns in which Knightley is costumed here are entirely appropriate.

Here's my favorite outfit, which she wears to make a stump speech for her friend and lover, Charles Grey,in his run for Parliament:

You can't see the big, sweeping skirt that completes the ensemble, but you can get a good idea of the intricate detailing. And this is just one of dozens of costumes created for Knightley alone. Here's another:

Ah, if only they give Oscars to the wigmasters! And check out that bling!

If you're rolling your eyes at this point, and thinking this all looks a little over-the-top,I invite you to take a look at the real Georgiana here:
I'd say they captured her pretty well. "The Duchess" is full of ravishing sartorial delights such as these, and I predict it will send an Oscar home with Michael O'Connor, who's already won a BAFTA and a Costume Designer's Guild Award for his work here.

The LAMB Devours the Oscars - Best Costume Design

Editor's note: Welcome to the nineteenth of a multi-part series dissecting the 2008 Academy Awards, brought to you by the Large Association of Movie Blogs and its assorted members. Every weekday leading up to the Oscars, a new post written by a different LAMB will be published, each covering a different category (or more) of the Oscars (there are 24 in all). To read any other posts regarding this event, please just click on the tag following the post. Thank you, and enjoy!







By Pat of Doodad Kind of Town.

Ah, the Best Costume Design category! Wherever you find an award for achievement in Costume Design, you’ll find a list of period pictures: films full of ball gowns, royal robes, and the haute couture of the decades gone by. If it’s visually sumptuous and it’s set in a bygone era, it’s likely to get a nomination in this category. At least that’s been my impression over the years.

I was discussing this category recently with my friend, Bill, who’s been a costumer for many local theatre productions. Bill reminded me that good costume design isn’t just about making beautiful, elaborate clothes for period pictures. It’s about creating costumes that tell you something about the characters while being appropriate to the time period of the film.

It was Bill who informed me that an Oscar for Best Costume Design had gone to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? - a film that (I dimly recall) featured Richard Burton in a ratty old cardigan and Liz Taylor alternating between a shapeless old sweater and a slutty top with a plunging neckline.

Of course, that was in 1966, when the Academy still presented two Costume Design Oscars each year, one for a color film and one for black-and-white. The Costume Design award for color films that year went to A Man for All Seasons, an historical drama. The following year, the awards were combined into a single category - and, with a few notable exceptions (Star Wars, All That Jazz, Priscilla, Queen of the Desert) - the winners have been period films ever since.

This year’s nominees are all set in bygone eras, but I believe the costume design in all the nominated films meets the criteria my friend outlined: enhancing our experience of the film and its characters, not just giving us nice clothes to look at.

Take Atonement, for example - a ravishingly beautiful romantic drama set in England during the 1930s and 40s. The most ballyhooed costume achievement in this film is probably the emerald green evening gown Keira Knightley wears in the infamous library scene. Yet, if you look closer, some of the costuming choices provide us with important insights into the emotional states of the characters.

I’m thinking of the early scene where young Briony rehearses her visiting cousins in her play, “The Trials of Arabella.” I was surprised to learn that Briony’s cousin, Lola, is meant to be two years older than she (15 to Briony’s 13), since the actresses look to be about the same age. But then look how differently they’re dressed.

Lola, played by Juno Temple, has the soft, unformed features of a girl who is about to become a woman, but isn’t quite there. And the way’s she dressed signals us that she’s growing up a little too fast. Not that she’s dressed provocatively; her soft, bowed blouse and elegant wide-leg trousers are perfectly modest. But they’re also a bit too sophisticated for a young girl, and, in them, Lola gives us the impression that she’s dressed in her mother’s clothes, striving to project a worldliness that she doesn’t yet possess. It gives a subtle sense of unease about her character, which is borne out by the events of the evening.


Briony, by contrast, may be bossy and self-assured, but her clothing lets us know she is still very much a child. She wears a little-girlish dress with a Peter Pan collar, a delicate beaded necklace and barrettes in her bobbed hair. It’s particularly interesting that in the film’s epilogue, the elderly Briony will still be dressed in much the same way - the same necklace, barrettes and a modest, girlish dress. The costuming tells us right away that Briony is emotionally frozen at 13; she’s never moved on from the events of that fateful night.

So, “well done” to Jacqueline Durran, the costume designer for Atonement (who has a previous nomination for Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice.)

Sweeney Todd has some similarly subtle, character-inspired costume work, although I think I would have missed it had I not watched an IFC “Making Of” special about Sweeney prior to seeing the film.

Designer Colleen Atwood spoke about the costuming choices she made for each character. For the Beadle (Timothy Spall) she made stylish, quality pieces, but in “disreputable” fabrics (a waistcoat made of snakeskin, for example) to underscore both his preening vanity and his moral sliminess. Nice idea, but it didn’t quite ‘read’ on screen. I was actually looking for those details, but couldn’t really see them.


Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter), in Atwood’s design, wears tattered clothing in her early scenes, when she’s fallen on hard times. Later, when her pie shop business picks up, she’s more nicely dressed. That’s not an innovative idea - it’s the scheme used by every stage costumer who’s ever worked on Sweeney Todd. But, again, the difference between Lovett’s rags and her finery is a bit more subtle than I would have expected.

I will admit, however, to loving Atwood’s witty costumes for both Sweeney and Lovett in the “By the Sea” fantasy sequence. And I laughed at the obscenely tight blue satin trousers worn by Pirelli (Sascha Baron Cohen), though I’m still not sure what the point was.

On the other hand, there’s nothing subtle about the costumes in Elizabeth: the Golden Age. The sweeping Elizabethan designs are all of a piece with the film’s overcooked visuals and bombastic acting styles. It’s the queen’s dresses with their huge, stiff skirts, and intricately ruffled, stand-up lace collars, that I’m sure caught the Academy’s attention. That kind of Elizabethan finery will always get a nomination. But, for me, the two greatest moments of costume achievement in this film - both of which still burn bright in my memory months after first seeing them, are:


1) That blood-red, off-the-shoulder number worn by Mary, Queen of Scots (Samantha Morton) to her execution. The build-up to the beheading is so tortuously drawn out as to be melodramatic - and a lot of the drama is in that red dress, the shock of its bold color in a roomful of men wearing brown and black.

2) Elizabeth’s white nightdress, billowing in the breeze like a huge, unfurled flag, as she stands atop a cliff, watching her navy defeat the Spanish Armada. It’s the most over-the-top scene in a very over-the-top film - and all the visual impact is in the proportions of that nightdress.

Alexandra Byrne was previously nominated for The Golden Age’s precursor, Elizabeth in 1999. I hope she brings home the statuette this time. Her costumes for Elizabeth: The Golden Age have every bit as much star power as Cate Blanchett herself.

Which is not meant to give short shrift to the remaining nominees.


La Vie En Rose drew on the real Edith Piaf’s wardrobe for inspiration, and Marit Allen’s designs recreate those styles beautifully. I also liked the wardrobe transitions for Piaf as she went from singing in the streets (in slouch sweaters and skirts) to singing on the world’s concert stages (in considerably swankier dresses).

One thing I wondered, though: Marion Cotillard, who is about 5’ 7” in real life, was able to physically transform herself into the tiny (under 5 feet) Piaf onscreen. I’m sure she had to modify her posture; maybe there was some scaling of set pieces to make her look smaller. But what I want to know is: were her costumes in any way designed to make her appear smaller or more delicate? Were the costumes part of the illusion?

The inclusion of Across the Universe in this category was the biggest surprise to me. It was a visually stunning film (as you’d expect of director Julie Taymor), but I wasn’t impressed by the costumes and had trouble remembering any of them. So I had to go back to take a look at some clips.


The film’s costumes cover a range of 60s styles: from preppy sports jackets, cords and cable-knit sweaters to trippy-psychadelic tie-dyes and macramé to the outlandish costumes in “For the Benefit of Mr. Kite.” (I’m not sure if the blue puppet-people in this number were the work of costume designer Albert Wolsky or puppet designer James Edmund Goodwin or both; they’re creepy, but definitely original. Eddie Izzard’s “ringmaster” ensemble - tattered top hat and tails over a striped t-shirt - is less inspired.)

Overall, I’d say the costumes effectively underscore the film’s portrayal of a once-innocent world morphing into something darker and more complicated. (Although, throughout the entire film, Evan Rachel Wood’s character remains fresh-and-innocent looking.)

The LAMB Devours the Oscars - Best Sound Editing; Best Sound Mixing

Editor's note: Welcome to the third of a multi-part series dissecting the 2008 Academy Awards, brought to you by the Large Association of Movie Blogs and its assorted members. Every weekday leading up to the Oscars, a new post written by a different LAMB will be published, each covering a different category (or more) of the Oscars (there are 24 in all). To read any other posts regarding this event, please just click on the tag following the post. Thank you, and enjoy!










By Pat from Doodad Kind of Town

If you're anything like me, you probably haven't paid too much attention to the Oscar categories Best Achievement in Sound Editing and Best Achievement in Sound Mixing. Truth be told, when I'm watching the awards at my friend's annual party, I'm more likely to be filling my plate at the buffet table when the sound awards are announced than to be glued to the TV screen in rapt anticipation.

This year will be different, though. This year, I've actually done some reading and research about the work of the nominated film sound designers and technicians. Plus, I've discovered there is a little drama behind one of this year's nominations.

Kevin O'Connell, a nominee for Achievement in Sound Mixing, holds the all-time record for most Oscar nominations without a win (19, to be exact.) He's the Susan Lucci of film sound mixers, you might say. This year, O'Connell got his 20th nomination for "Transformers." Will he win - or will he continue his distinguished but winless run in the category? I'll be watching intently to find out.

The complete lists of nominees are as follows:

For Sound Editing -

“The Bourne Ultimatum” (Universal) Karen Baker Landers and Per Hallberg

“No Country for Old Men” (Miramax and Paramount Vantage) Skip Lievsay

“Ratatouille” (Walt Disney) Randy Thom and Michael Silvers

“There Will Be Blood” (Paramount Vantage and Miramax) Christopher Scarabosio and Matthew Wood

“Transformers” (DreamWorks and Paramount in association with Hasbro) Ethan Van der Ryn and Mike Hopkins


For Sound Mixing -

“The Bourne Ultimatum” (Universal) Scott Millan, David Parker and Kirk Francis

“No Country for Old Men” (Miramax and Paramount Vantage) Skip Lievsay, Craig Berkey, Greg Orloff and Peter Kurland

“Ratatouille” (Walt Disney) Randy Thom, Michael Semanick and Doc Kane

“3:10 to Yuma” (Lionsgate) Paul Massey, David Giammarco and Jim Stuebe

“Transformers” (DreamWorks and Paramount in association with Hasbro) Kevin O’Connell, Greg P. Russell and Peter J. Devlin

You might be wondering (I was): What's the difference between the two awards?

The Sound Editing award is given for achievement in executing the sound design of a film - it has a lot to do with the creation of sound effects. (In fact, for many years, the award was called Best Sound Effects , then Best Sound Effects Editing.) The Sound Mixing award, by contrast, is based on the excellence of the finished soundtrack of the film, including the entire mix of sound effects, music and dialogue.

(Why did "There Will Be Blood" got the nomination for Editing, but not Mixing? Was it Jonny Greenwood's score - which tended to sound more like a swarm of crazed cicadas than music - that alienated voters? I'm only guessing. Personally I found the score both disturbing and effective, but not everyone shares that view.)

This New York Times article is not only a great introduction to the craft of film sound, but also gives you a whole new appreciation for the importance of sound design in double-nominee "No Country for Old Men." With only 16 minutes of music in the film's entire 122-minute running time, the sound effects have even greater impact. As "No Country" sound editor, Skip Lievsay explains, “The idea here was to remove the safety net that lets the audience feel like they know what’s going to happen. I think it makes the movie much more suspenseful. You’re not guided by the score and so you lose that comfort zone.”

Oh, and the sound made by that air-powered cattle stun gun wielded by Javier Bardem? It's actually a pneumatic nail gun. According to sound mixer Craig Berkey “I wasn’t looking for authenticity, so I didn’t even research cattle guns. I just knew it had to be impactful, with that two-part sound, like a ch-chung.”

Reading this article made me want to go back and see "No Country" again just to focus on the sounds. Ditto for "There Will Be Blood," after reading this interview with Sound Designer Chris Scarabosiso and Re-recording Mixer Mike Semanick (both P. T. Anderson regulars). Here they talk about how the sound of the oil derricks underscores the tensions in the story:

Semanick: (The derricks have) a constant grinding - they’re going and going, you know. And I mean a constant (he makes a “Chug! Chug!” sound). It’s like poking at the town’s folk and poking at the preacher kid because they got shorted out of the money. And the derricks are still pumping away, so it’s this ongoing character in the background, a constant track audible every day in these people’ lives.

Scarabosio: (Paul) was pretty adamant about it sounding dangerous. But Paul doesn’t like things to sound too over produced So, it’s the challenge of trying to create that without it sounding too over done. Give it that sense of darkness, danger, but also convey it’s this big piece of wood with these big metal wheels and stuff and they always have to have some kind of imperfection to them as well.

I love the idea of the oil derricks being a sort of additional character in the film. Those are the kinds of subtle details I rarely pick up on a first viewing, but knowing about them makes me want to go back to "There Will Be Blood" all that much more.

Randy Thom - a double nominee this year, and a two-time Oscar winner for "The Right Stuff" and "The Incredibles" - gives a little insight into his sound design for "Ratatouille" in a video interview at filmsound.org. Here he talks about the special challenges of creating sound for an animated film, and gives some background on how his team was able to create an authentic feeling of being in Paris. (Hint: listen closely and you'll hear actual Parisians speaking French in the background of some scenes.) Thom is a distinguished sound veteran who got his start working on "Apocalypse Now."

While I appreciate the fine sound work of "3:10 to Yuma" and "The Bourne Ultimatum," (I didn't - and won't - see "Transformers"), I believe the award winners will come from one of the three aforementioned films. In fact, my money is on either "No Country for Old Men" or "Ratatouille." Why should you believe me? Well, I'm no expert, but I have won my friend's Oscar-predicting contest in three of the last four years. And I usually choose the technical awards correctly.

LAMB #24 - Doodad Kind of Town

URL: http://doodadkindoftown.wordpress.com/

Site Name: Doodad Kind of Town

What is the main focus of your site (reviews, editorials, news, lists, etc.)?
Reviews mostly, with a few editorials, film clips and general observations thrown in from time to time (e.g. a list of people who I think should get the AFI Lifetime Achievement award).

What are your blogging goals, personally and/or professionally? In other words, what, if anything, are you trying to get out your blog?
My initial goals are modest - I enjoy writing about movies, I want to find an audience for what I write, and I want to be in touch with other film lovers to discuss, debate and share opinions about about all things cinematic.

Do you prefer an interactive 'community' for your blog or are you the teacher and your readers are the students?
I am not a teacher, but I do enjoy "discovering" and recommending unusual or offbeat films. However, I'm primarily looking to be part of an interactive community with other movie bloggers.

How long have you been movie blogging for, and how frequent do you post updates to your site?
The blog has been in existence since March 2007, but it has been focused exclusively on movies only since early November. (It took me a while to find my voice.)

Name up to three of your favorite movies (and no more).
My favorite movies are pretty wide-ranging, including everything from 8 1/2 to Some Like it Hot. Also - obviously, given the title of the blog - Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle.

How did you hear about the LAMB?
I found a link to LAMB on "Ferdy on Films," a blog I read regularly.

Any additional comments.
I was a film critic in college and for a short time afterwards, but eventually got immersed in the corporate world. This blog is my "mid-life-crisis"-inspired return to doing something I've always loved. I review films from a very personal (as opposed to scholarly) perspective, but I love reading and learning from all kinds of reviewers and film scholars.