Serpico

[Big Magilla]

Yes, he was murdered six years later in the sex gear shop he owned.

Tee, I disagree that Hepburn said nothing memorable. Her opening remarks that she was living proof that someone could wait 41 years to be unselfish was the best speech of the evening. What was startling to me was her appearance. She looked like she just got up, threw on her usual slacks and sweater, got on the plane, got off, went to the theatre, presented the Thalberg to Lawrence Wiengarten, left, got on the plane and went home, which is just about what she did do. I thought maybe they asked her at the last minute and she didn't have time to pick out a dress, but in retrospect, she probably wouldn't have gone if they insited she dress up.

[flipp525]

Wasn't the streaker later murdered in a sex shop?



Edited By flipp525 on 1194579593

[Mister Tee]

It may have been because I was so disgusted by that point in the evening, but I didn't think Niven's line was so funny (though I acknowledge it's gone into history as a brilliant zinger). It just felt really canned to me. Plus, from the way the streaker was shot -- never actually giving the audience the naked view -- I had the feeling the whole moment might have been staged. (The following day, many -- including me -- argued that, from what we could see, the guy might well have been wearing a Speedo. It wasn't till I saw another angle years later than I accepted he was truly naked)

Katharine Hepburn's surprise appearance (which was actually rumored in a Chicago paper that afternoon) seemed like it would be a highlight, but she said nothing memorable (and went on and on). It was also the night they gave Groucho a special award, something to which I'd looked forward, but he was past the point of being able to make public appearances, and the moment was just depressing.

[Big Magilla]

Thank God for the streaker, in that case.

David Niven, who was hosting, gave a pithy reposte to the streaker: "The only laugh he'll get in his life; and, it's because he stripped down and showed his shortcomings." I saw it on one of the Oscar compilation videos. That was actuallt apretty daring thing to say in 1974 on network TV.

Not really. Streaking was a popular phase at the time. Anticipating that something like that might happen, the Oscar show scribes wrote the line for Niven to use just in case.

The highlights of the evening for me were Katharine Hepburn's only appearance at any show and Susan Hayward's last public apperance before her death.

[Greg]

Thank God for the streaker, in that case.

David Niven, who was hosting, gave a pithy reposte to the streaker: "The only laugh he'll get in his life; and, it's because he stripped down and showed his shortcomings." I saw it on one of the Oscar compilation videos. That was actuallt apretty daring thing to say in 1974 on network TV.

[Eric]

'73 was, in fact, that caucus' best year.

Thank God for the streaker, in that case.

[Mister Tee]

I'll make it unanimous by saying I, too, had Serpico down as a best picture nominee, and was stunned/appalled that the egregiously unfunny and retrograde A Touch of Class took the spot instead. Touch of Class hadn't even been a commercial hit (it didn't do a third of Serpico's gross). Its nomination can only be seen as one of the last bleats of the old-fart caucus, which was otherwise losing the battle to newer, hipper films.

'73 was, in fact, that caucus' best year. As Magilla says, Jackson's utterly undeserved (EDITED) win was a complete shock --probably still the nastiest surprise I've ever had from the Oscrs (Crash beating Brokeback had at least been on the table as possibility). But, in truth, there wasn't much enthusiasm for any of the best actress nominees; Tatum O'Neal's gerrymandered-to-supporting work might well have beaten all her elders had she been properly placed.

And then Lemmon -- an actor I'd always likedm-- winning for a dismal performance in a reactionary film; it turned me off him for years (not till Missing did I really come back around). Brando's performance was of course the critics' choice that year -- and mine -- but, as Magilla says, Marlon's gesture of ingratitude the year before, combined with blue-nose outrage over Last Tango's content, made him an impossibility. Pacino, thought to have been somewhat unfairly passed over the year before, became the hipster choice, though, like Damien, I actually preferred Nicholson's joyous work. I believe Magilla is correct, that the three-way split of cool choices enabled the Chamber of Commerce's choice, Lemmon, to slip through.

After those two bummer acting choices, The Sting as best picture -- as close to a non-entity of a choice as could have been made -- barely registered on the outrage scale (I was rooting for the chanceless American Graffiti). It did, however, confirm the evening as the worst Oscars I'd ever seen (it may still hold that title, though the Gandhi putsch ranks a close second). The only awards I even vaguely enjoyed that night were O'Neal, Day for Night under foreign, and, best of all, Sven Nykvist for cinematography.

[Big Magilla]

Revisionist thinking has probably gone in the opposite direction. Serpico has pretty much been usupred by Lumet's similarly themed 1981 film, Prince of the City, in most critical assessments of his career, though I personally still prefer Serpico.

At the time I was rather shocked that the lame brain comedy A Touch of Class got the best picture slot I was sure was going to go to Serpcio and eventual winner George Roy Hill (The Sting), not Lumet, was the one I was convinced was going to be left out in the cold by Bergman's inevitable nomination.

A strange, strange year at the Oscars. The Exorcist, which was both my choice and the one I was convinced was going to win best picure, was beaten by the fun, but lightweight, The Sting, and Jack Lemmon (Save the Tiger) and Glenda Jackson (A Touch of Class), two actors who have given much better performances won awards that I wanted to go to Al Pacino and Joanne Woodward (Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams).

Jackson's win over Wooward was a total shock, but I wasn't surprised that Lemmon won, given the shameless Oscar campaign he ran as well as my expectation that Pacino, Nicholson and Brando (Last Tango in Paris) would cancel each other out. Even though there was no way Brando was going to win after the furor he created the year before, I suspected he would draw enough votes away form Pacino and Nicholson to help sentimental favorite Lemmon.

[Damien]

It was expected to be nominated -- at least I had predicted it -- but ultimately I guess it was just too New York-y for the Academy. Sidney Lumet used to pull a holier-than-thou act back then saying how he had never shot a single frrame of film in Hollywood and he was damned proud of the fact. Not exactly the way to win friends and influence people in the Academy.

Also, the film did petty well at the box office, but -- even though it engendered a good deal of discussion -- wasn't a smash. The guys in my freshman dorm at Columbia were damned pissed watching the Oscars that "Al" (they seemed to be on a first-name basis didn't win. (To me, Jack Nicholson's work in The Last Detail dwarfed everything else that year.)

[Sabin]

I just rewatched Sidney Lumet's 'Serpico' and I think it's a very, very solid piece of writing. Al Pacino is good as well. Why wasn't it nominated for Best Picture? It was nominated for Best Dramatic Picture and won Best Dramatic Actor, Sidney Lumet was nominated for the Director's Guild of America prize over Ingmar Bergman and whomever the hell directed 'A Touch of Class'. It seems like the kind of picture that the Academy would go for.

It was nominated for Best Actor and Adapted Screenplay, but it would seem like fodder for Picture, Director, Score, Film Editing, Sound, and maybe Cinematography. Is this just revisionist thinking?