The Classics Shelf: The 1994 Academy Awards, Part 2 - The First Hour: The Hollywood Variety Show

Part 1: Introduction

As was customary at the time, the telecast began with a few minutes of clips from the red carpet, hastily assembled between the arrivals and the official telecast with an announcer doing her best to keep a steady voice and not betray the rush. (She accidentally announced Sharon Stone as the representative for Price Waterhouse.) Attendees caught on camera who have since passed included Martin Landau, Nigel Hawthorne, Best Live-Action Short Film winner (and character actor) Randy Stone, and Kelly Preston on the arm of husband John Travolta.

Now officially begun, the show started with Academy President Arthur Hiller trying to be funny but not managing it, but his speech was good-natured and quick. It included a plea that would be repeated throughout the evening, arguing against then-House Speaker Newt Gingrich’s threats to the National Endowment for the Arts. Hiller’s speech was poorly worded and it was hard to know if the theme of the night would be the centenary celebration of cinema or celebrating comedy, leading to a night of endless montages that highlighted both.

No Oscar show is complete without a disastrous opening number, but, with Allan Carr still visible in the rearview, the efforts in the years that followed were notably toned down. This year’s had Tim Curry, Kathy Najimy, and Mara Wilson singing “Make ‘Em Laugh” while moving seamlessly between large screens and the live stage, while film clips expertly assembled by Chuck Workman surround them. Clips of Singin’ in the Rain were accompanied by a cameo by present-day Donald O’Connor and the number included an impressive stunt of a dancer on skates moving, seamlessly, between stage and screen. It was not an unforgettable number, but the real reason it’s rarely discussed in the years since it was broadcast is because it’s not terrible, either.

David Letterman was announced as host and quickly makes it clear in his opening monologue that he would be tailoring the show towards his own late-night style. He opened with a much-appreciated Hoop Dreams reference (the film was the most celebrated of the year but didn’t even make it into the documentary category) before a strange (and strangely enduring) joke about Uma Thurman and Oprah Winfrey’s names. Susan Sarandon cheered for his dig at Gingrich, he made a fat joke about Roger Ebert, and referenced a recent scandal by announcing that the ladies who don’t win will have a chance to have a baby with Anthony Quinn. (The 78 year-old actor had made headlines when he announced that he had fathered a child with his secretary despite his being married to his wife of thirty years.) A time capsule moment arrived with Letterman saying “Bite Me” to the camera, but his best joke of the night came in announcing that Eat Drink Man Woman, the title of Ang Lee’s nominee for Best Foreign Language Film, was also how Schwarzenegger had asked Shriver out on their first date. (We cut to a thoroughly delighted Shriver.)

The first hour included the presentation of the first clip for Best Picture, Keanu Reeves with a Bam-Bam haircut introducing Pulp Fiction, while Rene Russo seemed nervous welcoming Randy Newman, who performed the song “Make Up Your Mind” from Ron Howard’s The Paper. It was Newman’s sixth unsuccessful nomination and he would be cited eight more times (including three times in one year) before finally winning his first of two awards in 2002, allowing Diane Warren to take over as the Susan Lucci of the music department.

The song performances at the Academy Awards have always been an iffy experience, as they’re put together too quickly and rarely rehearsed properly. On this particular night, the performances would all be hampered by bad microphone balancing and singers veering off key (likely due to bad monitors). In this case, Newman was frequently overpowered by his backup singers. Letterman followed with a dog who does a trick when audiences applaud, which thrilled Winona Ryder and Rita Wilson–because everyone knows that nobody ever has a better time at awards shows than Rita Wilson.

The first hour only managed to pop five envelopes. Tommy Lee Jones, looking put-out as usual, announced Dianne Wiest as the winner of Best Supporting Actress for Bullets Over Broadway, making her only the second person to win the category twice (after Shelley Winters) and the first actor to win two awards for films by the same director: Woody Allen. Historically, it’s worth noting that the first award of the night had a speech that thanked Woody Allen and the Weinstein brothers, who distributed the film.

A radiant-looking Sharon Stone presented the Best Costume Design award and it’s the moment that makes history. The award went to Stephan Elliott’s still rightfully beloved The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, and in accepting the prize in a dress made entirely of American Express Gold Cards (that she made herself), Lizzy Gardiner became the most talked-about fashion moment for a non-celebrity of all time (and in the overall fashion moments category, is likely challenged only by Bjork’s swan dress). Gardiner’s ensemble made such an impression that no one noticed that her co-winner, Tim Chappel, was wearing a skirt (admittedly it’s black and barely showed up on camera), and for the rest of the night, Letterman makes a number of good-natured jokes about her dress expiring.

Uma Thurman presented the Best Makeup prize to Rick Baker and his famous white-streaked pony tail for Ed Wood, his third of an eventual seven Oscars. Sarah Jessica Parker, wearing what looked like a dress she’d soon be sporting on Sex and the City, flawlessly delivered a comedic bit poking fun at the excitement of the award for Best Sound Effects Editing (which wentto Speed). Steve Martin made a weird jab at Arthur Hiller before a joke that would not fly today (but which made Ellen Barkin crack up at the time) about trying to get to second base with a seventeen year-old at a screening of The Lion King. He handed the Best Film Editing award to Forrest Gump (the category was the only one that Hoops Dreams was nominated for, a rarity for a documentary), which Oscar pundits know is often an indication of how the night will go.

Films Featured So Far in the Broadcast

Bullets over Broadway

Dir. Woody Allen

John Cusack plays an idealistic playwright in 1930s New York City who decides that, for his latest opus, he will make absolutely no concessions: he will direct it himself to ensure the quality of his work is preserved, and he will have the exact cast that he wants even if they aren’t practical to work with. Unfortunately, once production gets rolling, compromise becomes inevitable, as his leading lady (Dianne Wiest) is an alcoholic who is very picky about everything, his leading man (Jim Broadbent) has a serious food addiction, and to finance the play, Cusack has to accept the offer of a local gangster (Joe Viterelli) and make it worth his while by casting his screwball moll (Jennifer Tilly) in a crucial role. Even more trouble comes his way when Tilly’s goon bodyguard (Chazz Palminteri) decides to help out with the script. The performances (which also include the marvellous Tracey Ullman) are all among the best of the year, with praises going to Tilly’s brilliant work and the absolutely astounding Wiest. Gorgeously photographed by Carlo DiPalma, featuring beautiful production by Santo Loquasto, this is one of Allen’s best films in years.

Winner: Best Supporting Actress (Dianne Wiest); Nominations: Best Supporting Actor (Chazz Palminteri), Best Supporting Actress (Jennifer Tilly), Best Director (Woody Allen), Best Original Screenplay, Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Best Costume Design

Clear and Present Danger

Dir. Phillip Noyce

Jack Ryan returns for his third screen adventure in this highly superior drama that surpasses Patriot Games and more or less matches the riveting suspense of The Hunt for Red October. Harrison Ford improves on his performance in the last chapter as the out-of-his-depth CIA operative who takes a high-ranking position when his mentor and close friend (James Earl Jones) is hospitalized for a terminal illness. Ryan is left to deal with the political ramifications of the murder of a family who were close friends with the President, a scheme involving a dangerous Colombian drug cartel that threatens to blow up the global community. Fascinating twists and a slick script, plus a host of supporting performances (including Anne Archer returning as Ryan’s intelligent doctor wife) that sparkle.

Nominations: Best Sound, Best Sound Effects Editing

Ed Wood

Dir. Tim Burton

A stunning film biography of late B-movie filmmaker Edward D. Wood, Jr. that is possibly Burton’s masterpiece. Shot in gorgeous, sumptuous black-and-white, it stars a phenomenal Johnny Depp in the title role, the director with, arguably, little talent but grand ambition who was responsible for such anti-classics as Plan 9 From Outer Space and Bride of the Atom. Wood also had a close relationship with actress (later song lyricist) Dolores Fuller (brilliantly played by Sarah Jessica Parker), then married sweetheart Kathy O’Hara (Patricia Arquette), the only woman who thought nothing of his love of women’s angora sweaters. Stealing the entire show is Martin Landau’s fantastic portrayal of Bela Lugosi, who when Wood meets him is living in the post-haze of his Dracula fame, dying slowly of heroin addiction in a lost suburb of Los Angeles until Wood’s adoration gives him a reason to hang on a bit longer. Landau gives the performance of his career, marvelously bringing Lugosi’s beloved mugging to the screen but also a powerful glimpse of the sorrow behind his frightening mask. Right up there with Landau’s work is the fantastic makeup design by Rick Baker, which brings all the ghoulish characters of the story (which also include Lisa Marie‘s delightful Vampira) to vivid life.

Winner: Best Supporting Actor (Martin Landau); Best Makeup

Hoop Dreams

Dir. Steve James

The process of choosing candidates for the documentary categories was revisited after the omission of the highest critically rated film of the year (of any genre). According to Roger Ebert, one of the film’s earliest and most influential champions, volunteers on the selection committee for this Oscar category routinely held flashlights during Academy screenings: members light up when they have given up on a film and, if the majority of lights go on, the film is turned off. Hoop Dreams reportedly didn’t make it past fifteen minutes and didn’t end up on the final nominations list, although it did receive a nomination for the editorial team (among whom was director James). Thirty years later, this film is still everything you’ve heard it is and more, following the lives of two inner city Chicago kids who want more than anything to play basketball for the NBA. What the film also does, and here’s where it is elevated to masterpiece status, is give a wholly in-depth look at two all-American families, their hopes and dreams, their trials and tribulations, and their resilience when everything seems to be against them. One of the subjects of the film comes from a strong family background and does really well in the private school he’s been sponsored to go to, but as time passes he seems to be losing his ability to stay on top of everything. The other immediately loses his place at the same school and suffers from an unstable life at home, but with the passage of time, it seems that he might just come out of it with something to show for himself after all. In three of the shortest hours you’ve ever spent watching a movie, James puts you on a whirlwind emotional ride that gets you wrapped up in the lives of strangers who become intimate friends. One of the most stunning films of the 1990s, and one of the most impressive documentaries you’ll ever have the chance to see.

Nomination: Best Film Editing

Little Women

Dir. Gillian Armstrong

There’s a lot of love poured into every shot of this third major film adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s classic novel, revamped for the nineties with an infusion of feminist sentiment (which Greta Gerwig would build on in her 2019 version, also produced by Denise DiNovi). Four sisters grow up under constricted financial circumstances in Civil War-era Massachusetts, their adventures focused on headstrong Josephine “Jo” March (a delightful Winona Ryder) and her struggles to find a place for herself in a world that expects her to do little else than marry her next-door neighbour and best friend (Christian Bale). Jo’s passions drive her towards writing and other artistic endeavours, ambitions that often embarrass her more society-conscious sisters. Trini Alvarado is elegant as Meg, the oldest sister with her sights set on making a good marriage (and does so with tutor Eric Stoltz), while both Kirsten Dunst and Samantha Mathis play Amy (at different ages), whose focus is on making a wealthy marriage. Claire Danes gives a touching portrayal of the sickly Beth, who unknowingly keeps the loving heart of the March family beating with her kindness and good nature. Watching over them all is the indomitable force of Susan Sarandon as their mother, a woman who wants her daughters to be happy with themselves without constantly seeking acceptance from others. The cast as a whole is marvellous but the film belongs to Ryder. Her character’s more delicate moments are always pulled off with poignancy. Beautifully directed by Armstrong, featuring excellent production design and beautiful costumes by Colleen Atwood (earning her first Oscar nomination), most of which were made from actual fabrics of the period resewn into the final pieces.

Nominations: Best Actress (Winona Ryder), Best Costume Design, Best Original Score

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

Dir. Kenneth Branagh

It generally appears that film adaptations of Mary Shelley’s game-changing novel are only entertaining if they’re not faithful. When they attempt to mirror her actual plot (and philosophy), they sink like stones, which is the case here. Shelley’s novel doesn’t have electric bolts in the sides of the head or a mad scientist’s lab. In fact, the book only describes the Monster’s appearance in terms of having a very intense gaze that frightens those who encounter him. But Branagh, taking over for Francis Ford Coppola after he decided that his own Dracula was an exhausting enough experience (and remained as producer), hopes to appeal to those who want both Boris Karloff and great literature at the same time. It begins with a thorough glimpse into the origins of Dr. Frankenstein’s education (Branagh plays the lead) where he first becomes interested in the science of re-animating human flesh for the purposes of creating his own race of human beings. His first major attempt results in a deformed, deranged creature (Robert De Niro) with a soft heart in search of love. Fear and exclusion are all the creature finds when he ventures out on his own, and he resolves to find his maker and exact his revenge upon him for the hellish life he has been condemned to. Helena Bonham Carter is fantastic as Dr. Frankenstein’s wife in this stylish horror film that starts off energetically but soon becomes too long and cluttered.

Nomination: Best Makeup

Maverick

Dir. Richard Donner

This rollicking adventure was a surprise inclusion at this year’s Oscars: a summer hit that adapts the popular television show that starred James Garner. Mel Gibson amply takes over the lead role of the charming gangster who is trying to work his way towards a major poker competition in the Wild West. He has a few setbacks, mostly in the form of a sheriff (Garner) who follows his every lawless step, and a gorgeous con artist (Jodie Foster) who might be out to steal his heart or his wallet–-or maybe both. Great action scenes pop up in the wonderful script that is peppered with delightful dialogue and situations. April Ferry, who later won an Emmy Award for her work on the HBO series Rome, received her only Oscar nomination for this film’s costumes before her death in 2024.

Nomination: Best Costume Design

Queen Margot

Dir. Patrice Chereau

The full 160-minute version of Chereau’s adaptation of the novel by Alexandre Dumas screened at Cannes, where it took third place and a well deserved acting prize for Virna Lisi, and was released in its home country in its original form. Miramax head Harvey Weinstein picked it up for international distribution and, much as he had done with Farewell, My Concubine the year before, cut out half an hour of screen time, forced Chereau to reinstate scenes that he could use in the promotional material, and released it to middling reviews. It didn’t help that the film hadn’t been overwhelmingly embraced in its original form at home, anyway, which resulted in France submitting Andre Techine’s Wild Reeds in its place for the Foreign Language Film Oscar. By the time of the Academy Awards, Margot arrived with only one nomination, for its sumptuous costumes by Moidele Bickel, and was not restored to its original length until Chereau worked on a re-edit just before his death in 2013. To see it in its glory, with image and sound restored to perfection, is to appreciate a misunderstood masterpiece–a bloody, gutsy period epic whose history can sometimes be confusing but whose texture is always commanding. Dumas dramatizes history using the court of Charles IX (Jean-Hugues Anglade), where the rift between Catholic and Huguenot (Protestant) citizens inspires his manipulative mother Catherine de’Medici (played in unrecognizable dowdiness by a superb Lisi) to arrange the marriage between her Catholic daughter Marguerite (Isabelle Adjani) and the Protestant Henri, King of Navarre (Daniel Auteuil). The nuptials are soon followed by the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, in which thousands of Protestants attending the wedding are cut to shreds and left piled in the streets, and the newly married princess must navigate the ambitions of her mother and brothers to keep her husband safe while working up a torrid love affair with a young, hot Protestant soldier (played by French dreamy nineties hunk Vincent Perez). Catherine’s ambition is to replace her hypochondriac, melancholy son on the throne with her younger issue, the Duke of Anjou (Pascal Greggory), but her machinations end up backfiring and fate has its own plans for the course that history will take. The richness of its images and the full-blooded performances make for one of the most polished films in this roster and one of the works that has aged the best from this year’s crop of nominees.

Nomination: Best Costume Design

Speed

Dir. Jan de Bont

Colin Biggs: Speed is endlessly rewatchable. Dennis Hopper is at his loathsome best, Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock have great chemistry, and the ensemble is a smorgasbord of talent (Jeff Daniels, Alan Ruck, Beth Grant, Joe Morton). Every bone-rattling explosion is expertly rendered, and you feel the air whoosh past your face thanks to the work by the award-winning sound team of Stephen Hunter Flick, Gregg Landaker, Steve Maslow, Bob Beemer, and David Macmillan. A testament to the power of practical effects and sharp editing, Speed is one of those movies I scroll past and immediately hit the play button. Much like its star, Keanu Reeves, Speed hasn’t aged.

Winner: Best Sound, Best Sound Effects Editing; Nomination: Best Film Editing

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

Dir. Stephan Elliott

Lizzy Gardiner and Tim Chappel’s costume designs are the real stars of this hilarious Australian comedy whose popularity has never abated. Terence Stamp, Hugo Weaving, and Guy Pearce all give terrific performance as three drag queens travelling across the Australian continental desert in a faulty bus to play a gig in Alice Springs, along the way sporting the most fabulous ensembles to complement their journey at every step. The humour couldn’t be more enjoyable, and unlike its American counterpart To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar, this one also has a big heart at its flashy centre. Stamp resurrected his career with his performance, which many suggested deserved a nomination and, in retrospect, they were absolutely right.

Winner: Best Costume Design

The Madness of King George

Dir. Nicholas Hytner

Alan Bennett’s work as actor and playwright had been celebrated since the seventies on stage and television before this first major adaptation of one of his plays was brought to the big screen (he had previously adapted his story A Private Function and had written the screenplay for Prick Up Your Ears, based on the play by John Lahr). A playwright his adapting his own play with a theatre director at the helm of his film debut doesn’t bode well and anticipates a stagebound result, but Bennett, who earned a deserved nomination for his screenplay adaptation, finds magnificent ways to make the story cinematic without compromising the wit and dexterity of his dialogue. Nigel Hawthorne, who had played the lead on stage, gave himself a remarkable late-life screen career with his boisterous performance as the late eighteenth-century English king who suffered a bout of illness that threatened his position on the throne. His ambitious son, played by Rupert Everett in a delightfully rascally turn, is anxious to confirm his father’s inability to rule the country and take over as Regent, unwisely ensconcing himself with anti-monarchist supporters who admire the “ramshackle colonist” Americans for their independence, while a desperate William Pitt (a magnificent Julian Wadham) is desperate to find a way to help the monarch regain his mental stability. Helen Mirren shines as Queen Charlotte, who never wavers in her support of her husband’s strength and right to rule; it’s not a particularly generous role given that she is forced to separate from the King’s presence while he is treated by an experimental psychologically-minded doctor (a terrific Ian Holm), but Mirren makes a deep and exciting impression whenever she’s on screen, earning herself a prize at the Cannes Film Festival a few months after her first trip to the Oscars as a nominee. Ken Adam, the legendary production designer of Barry Lyndon and many a Bond film, also finds his way to the podium for his gorgeous production design, which manages to recreate the feeling of the giant, poorly heated halls and bedrooms of the period. It’s the script, however, that holds it all together, a humorous and brainy examination of ambition in politics that supports a remarkably good cast from beginning to end.

Winner: Best Art Direction-Set Decoration; Nominations: Best Actor (Nigel Hawthorne), Best Supporting Actress (Helen Mirren), Best Adapted Screenplay

The Shawshank Redemption

Dir. Frank Darabont

This powerful drama is based on the short story Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King. Tim Robbins goes to prison for the murder of his wife and befriends a battle-scarred jail veteran (Morgan Freeman) who teaches him a thing or two about life on the inside. Freeman thinks that it is Robbins’ good nature that keeps him quietly working hard at the labour prison for as many years as they’re in together, having no idea that his friend has been plotting a break for a very long time. Roger Deakins’s rich cinematography and Thomas Newman’s gorgeous score accentuate every movement without ever overstepping the mark, but the centre of the storm, however, is Freeman’s beautiful work: his subtle delivery and powerful eyes combine to make one of the best performances ever committed to the screen.
Nominations: Best Picture, Best Actor (Morgan Freeman), Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Film Editing, Best Sound, Best Original Score

Tom & Viv

Dir. Brian Gilbert

This nominee marks an interesting but dramatically weak examination of the relationship between internationally renowned early twentieth century poet T.S. Eliot (Willem Dafoe) and his emotionally unbalanced wife Vivian Haigh-Wood (Miranda Richardson). Not long after their hasty marriage, Eliot discovers that his wife has medically untreatable menstrual problems that have a devastating affect on her personality, resulting in mood swings, erratic behaviour, and sometimes all-out spurts of what seems like complete insanity. Add to the mix a pre-World War I British society that doesn’t even treat seemingly sane women with much respect, as well as Haigh-Wood’s own frustration at living in the shadow of her famous husband while stifling her own creativity, and you have the makings of a grand tragedy. Unfortunately, director Gilbert can never decide what to make this movie about, touching on various social and political issues without diving into any of them. There is mention of Haigh-Wood’s own writings but nothing beyond that, and there is no significant investigation into the medical institution’s apparently obsessive interest in passing off every woman with chemical hormone troubles as worthy of a nuthouse. Richardson is magnificent in the role, taking a typical Oscar-baiter and giving it more humanity than just the standard raving lunatic scenes, while Rosemary Harris provides quiet weight as her heartbroken mother. Dafoe, unfortunately, is lost in the mix, forced to take a colourless character and make something memorable out of him and only sometimes succeeding.

Nominations: Best Actress (Miranda Richardson), Best Supporting Actress (Rosemary Harris)