49. Faye Dunaway in 'Network' (1976)

 

Plot intro

Long-standing news anchor Howard Beale (Peter Finch) finds out from his friend and colleague Max Schumacher (William Holden) that he is being fired in two weeks due to declining ratings. Struggling to come to terms with this, Beale suddenly shirks off his news duties and starts giving emotional, inspirational and incendiary political rants. The network is furious at first, but when ambitious programmer Diana Christensen points out that ratings are up. Diana and a reluctant Max team up to exploit Howard’s on-air mental breakdowns for all the ratings they can get. Can they keep such popularity going, or will Howard go too far…?

Paul says...

Faye Dunaway is an actress whose reputation precedes her. She is hailed as both one of the greatest actresses around, but also one of the most difficult to work with. Her reputation as “demanding” does seem to be a result of the usual chauvinist dismissal of any woman who questions male authority, but at the same time there is some smoke…so there must be a fire. She was reportedly late or randomly absent during the making of The Towering Inferno, clashed with director Roman Polanski when making Chinatown, and is known for requesting more retakes than directors are often willing to provide. The ever-outspoken Bette Davis (herself a victim of being labelled “demanding”) criticised Dunaway for unprofessionalism, intimating that the younger actress would turn up late and not know her lines. Most recently, behind-the-scenes footage of Dunaway shooting an ad came to light in which she abruptly asks someone behind the camera to leave because they are “right in my eyeline”. 

On the flipside, many other directors and actors have said completely the opposite, complimenting her attention to detail and her tenacious quest for perfectionism in her work. The director and co-stars of Network seem to have all had a positive experience with her, including William Holden with whom she had an altercation during the making of The Towering Inferno. Dunaway has also written about her experience with bipolar disorder which probably contributed to her alleged behind-the-scenes behaviours. 

Whatever the truth is (and we will probably never know it), there’s no denying that Dunaway nails this role in Network, which led to her third Oscar nomination and her only win. Diana Christensen is arguably one of the Best Actress roles that is hardest to like. Ambitious is an understatement, she is a ruthless, ratings-hungry, TV executive with all the sympathy and bedside manner of an anaconda. She herself admits that she is useless at friendships, love, domestic affairs or hobbies- all she is good at is work. Dunaway captivates this by seeming to always have Diana moving- circling assistants and execs whom she is trying to persuade, seduce or intimidate (or all three) like a shark. In one scene, she watches Howard’s performances with an insatiable lasciviousness whilst stuffing a sandwich into her mouth, uniting her professional ambition with food-hunger and even some underlying sexual enjoyment. 

This all works in wonderful contrast to William Holden’s performance as the old-fashioned, more soft-spoken, sympathetic Max, who reluctantly goes along with Diana’s manipulation of Howard and his skyrocketing ratings. Through them, the film dissects the idea of “old” and “new” programming, the former valuing integrity, dignity and respect, the latter valuing ratings, hysteria and excitement. 

Network as a whole is a high-energy, biting and weirdly prescient satire of the dumbing-down of news. Howard’s sensationalised but politically vague rants on air, which usually culminate in the audience yelling about how angry they are about the world and Howard fainting, are akin to the sort of emotive and fact-lite rants one might get from Donald Trump, Piers Morgan, or Jordan Peterson (as well as many others). These sorts of “news” anchors and political activists, regulars on Fox or GB News, deliver diatribes against “wokeism”, political correctness and diversity amongst a myriad of other topics but with very little research or evidence involved, somehow conning swathes of viewers into thinking that they are intelligent commentators. Howard does the same, although he genuinely believes what he is saying and is being puppeteered by Diana and Max. So prescient was the film that some of the satire does get a little lost to modern eyes. George Clooney apparently showed Network to some film students and was surprised to find that they didn’t know it was meant to be satirical, the plot and themes being so similar to modern-day news programming. 

Everyone in Network is having a whale of a time. Every actor is almost exhausting themselves with the fast-paced, crescendoing dialogue, and it’s easy to see why the film garnered a whopping five acting nominations at the Oscars and won three. The script is a flowing, effervescent ocean of thrilling speeches, rants and arguments (Aaron Sorkin, who wrote The West Wing and The Social Network has cited it as an influence), and while the satirical edge might be lost, Network remains a funny, whacky and dark dissection of news versus entertainment.  

Highlight: There’s a lot of fun scenes in this, but I think one of the most poignant is when Max and Diana hook up. Diana can’t stop discussing work but still manages to put some passion and orgasm into her actions, while Max seems to silently enjoy this combination of work and pleasure.

Lowlight: The final 10 minutes, in which the TV execs decide to assassinate Howard, feels a bit out-of-keeping with the rest of the film. I think this is where the satirical edge becomes fuzzy. To '70s audiences, the entire film is fantastical and ridiculous so the fantastic and ridiculous ending syncs up. But to us, it doesn’t, because modern news shows are not too far away from Howard’s insane performances. 

Mark: 8/10

Doug says...

Whatever you may think about Faye Dunaway, Network gives her the platform to prove she’s got acting chops. Leaving all the controversy aside - and as Paul says, there’s a history of chauvinism in Hollywood that sees ambitious and dedicated women labelled as ‘power hungry’ or ‘demanding’ - this was an absolutely terrific watch. 

What I loved so much, watching this in 2024, was the slightly chilling realisation that when they made this film in the mid ‘70s, they thought this was a preposterous, over the top scenario. However when we watch it, we nod our heads and say ‘of course’. Because it is the case that the news is no longer purely factual, it has become entertainment. And while we may not have tarot card readers on the air, we have hugely controversial figures hired to stir up feelings and gain viewership. Numbers are what matters, not ethics. 

It’s in her role as Diana that Dunaway sparkles. From the off, she is quick, sharp and takes no prisoners. We see her threaten her dull-eyed team with unemployment and she cuts a feminine yet ball-busting figure in a grey suited male environment. She’s ahead of the curve in that she sees that the old regime of news and television is dying and that viewership numbers are all that matters now. 

I think it’s an exquisite performance, Dunaway completely inhabits the role (we can tell she must be a perfectionist) through the comic scenes where she orgasms while discussing work to the sadder scenes where she loses her relationship because of her refusal to discuss anything other than her work. 

This is the weaker part of the film for me - the romance with much-older Max is a little uninteresting and apparently was significantly reduced in the recent National Theatre production. The news story, with Howard rapidly deteriorating, is far more gripping and on the nose, and it’s no surprise that Aaron Sorkin puts this film as one of his influences. The quick talking, business like dialogue whisks the film along and never lets you get ahead of the plot. 

I will also do a shout-out to Beatrice Straight who won Best Supporting Actress for this film and to this day holds the record for winning with the smallest amount of screen time (five minutes and two seconds). It’s a beautifully nuanced performance in which she pleads with her unfaithful husband not to go, before changing her mind - aware that he will one day return to her. Along with Peter Finch as the deranged Howard Beale, these three winners thoroughly deserve their shiny Oscars. 

I disagree with Paul about the ending - although it is more noticeably satirical to us than the rest of the film, I think we do actually live in a world where a slightly more conspiracy-loving reviewer could see television executives enacting a murder to protect their numbers.  

Highlight: I loved the moment where Diana sees Howard ranting and raving, and realises what this could do for their numbers. Her eyes actually shine with excitement and ambition - it’s a layered performance that’s head and shoulders above many of her fellow winners. 

Lowlight: I think the romance sub-plot does get in the way a little - it’s sometimes at odds with the rapid-pace of the story. I wonder if it would even be included if this film were made today as it doesn’t really add anything.

Mark: 9/10

48. Louise Fletcher in 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' (1975)

     

Plot intro

Rogueish rapscallion Randall McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) feigns mental instability to avoid a prison sentence and is admitted to a mental ward run by authoritative dictator Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher). As Randall befriends and starts to sympathise with the various patients, he unleashes a campaign of rebellion and defiance against Ratched’s regime. 

Doug says...

Okay now hear me out. One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest is a seminal piece of film-making, boasting some of the most legendary performances. It tackles the idea of mental health institutions and pits the ideology of anarchic chaos against state-mandated cruelty. It’s also really bloody dull. 

I’ve now watched this film twice and both times I’ve paused it at the halfway mark and been like ‘there’s still another hour to go?!?’ I understand that to many film buffs, this is absolute blasphemy but frankly please don’t make me watch another two hour film devoid of any humour or lightness set in a mental institute again. I understand how it plays with the visuals of freedom versus imprisonment, I just don’t really care. 

It’s a win for Louise Fletcher who manages to deliver an incredibly precise performance, scaled back and without any great crescendo. Fletcher conveys Nurse Ratched’s determination to keep order and control very well, although the script doesn’t allow her nearly as much cruelty as the actual novel does. I read online that Ratched in the film is meant to embody institutional dictatorship. She isn’t evil, so much as she is a corporation unwilling to bend to individual demand. 

The problem is that Jack Nicholson’s McMurphy is so unlikable and chaotic that you don’t really root for anyone and so this two hour misery-fest stretches into oblivion. There are constant scenes where McMurphy nearly escapes and is halted, and the ultimate ending is meant to be devastating but frankly comes as sweet relief from watching this film anymore. I don’t really understand why Nicholson’s performance is so legendary here, but Fletcher deserves her win. 

This to me is up there with The Godfather. A classic film that bored me to tears and I never want to watch again. I put these in the category of ‘Straight Men films’, proof if ever I needed it that my tastes are fully in the queer realm. 

Highlight

The tragic crescendo with Billy is well handled and one of the few moments I actually snapped back into the story. 

Lowlight

That whole boating escapade. It felt totally unnecessary and overly symbolic (oh they’ve escaped to be on the rolling sea, searching for new lands of freedom only to be brought back into their prison). 

Mark

3/10

Paul says...

Sometimes an actor nails a role so hard that they spend the rest of their career and life eternally associated with that role, and nothing else (regardless of however many acting gigs they might get). Such is the case with Louise Fletcher, whose ice-cold, soft-spoken, regal performance as Nurse Ratched earned her the accolade as fifth-greatest film villain, according to the American Film Institute (surpassed only by the Wicked Witch of the West, Darth Vader, Norman Bates and Hannibal Lecter). So strong, memorable and popular was her performance that many of her other acting credits are overshadowed. Arguably her second best-known is a recurring guest role in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine in which she pretty much plays an alien version of Nurse Ratched. 

Cuckoo’s Nest was a monster hit in the '70s, becoming the second of just three films to win an Oscar Grand Slam (Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress and Screenplay). It is a classic bit of '70s filmmaking, unsubtly depicting the battle between not so much good and evil but more order and chaos. Randall represents chaos - erratic, scruffy and outspoken, addicted to gambling, sex, drink, drugs and partying but also encourages self-expression. Ratched is order - not a hair out of place and her voice almost never crescendos. She knows exactly what she is doing at all times. However, her therapeutic techniques leave a lot to be desired. She rations or forbids any kind of enjoyable activity, ranging from cigarettes to television. She is inflexible towards others’ suggestions but changes the rules of her ward so that she gets her own way. Most reprehensibly, she sex-shames one of the youngest patients (whose mother is a friend of Ratched’s and paying her to keep him there) to the point where he dies by suicide. Even her assistant nurse looks terrified of her. On a simplistic level, the audience (and a '70s audience brought up on The Godfather in particular) is cheering on anti-establishment Randall and booing bureaucratic Ratched. 

But scratch beneath the surface and, regardless of the outstanding acting, you start to see some of the more outdated, questionable and problematic elements of Cuckoo’s Nest. Randall is not someone who, by today’s standards, is a hero. His sexual proclivity is far from admirable, especially seeing as he is serving a prison sentence for having sex with an underage girl. He is sexist, lecherous, uncouth, insulting, and borderline racist. His actions of breaking out the inmates for an illicit fishing trip or smuggling alcohol into the ward, while exciting and admirable for the wannabe-alphas in the audience, are, when you think about it, downright dangerous. Randall has no idea if alcohol will have ill effects on these patients, many of whom take daily medications. Nor does he know what to do if any of them suddenly have a panic attack in the middle of the ocean. What, to a '70s audience, might seem like “sticking it to the man”, to us seems irresponsible and unnecessary when you could just contact the Designated Safeguarding Lead. 

The film also borders dangerously close to misogyny. Indeed, Ratched is the only major female character, literally surrounded by men. The only significant others are her perennially frightened assistant nurse, and two brassy prostitutes. This film was made at the height of second-wave feminism, during which women were fighting for greater financial independence, equal opportunities in the work force and greater respect for their bodies. Of course, disgruntled males didn’t take to well to this and, as a consequence, Cuckoo’s Nest could be interpreted as a film against female authority, depicting a woman in power as sexless (she makes no mention of a partner or children so evidently she is unfulfilled), cruel and repressive of men’s natural need to have sex, play basketball, get drunk and be raucous. This is a film directed, written by and starring men so perhaps Ratched is a negative depiction of what men saw as the liberated woman. 

It is also possible that neither Randall nor Ratched are meant to be supportable. Randall is, indeed, too unpredictable, his actions and words leading him to be deprived of what he wants, tortured and eventually lobotomised. Meanwhile, Ratched is too ruthless, with her actions leading to her becoming powerless, humiliated and disrespected. In this tale of order vs chaos, perhaps we’re meant to perceive neither as perfect and a balance of the two is needed. This balance is achieved through Chief Bromden, a quiet, huge Native American patient, who, incidentally, narrates the original novel. While he maintains his serenity and self-control, through Randall’s chaos he finds his voice (literally and figuratively) and partakes occasionally in the conflict and partying that Randall brings. He symbolically balances his chaos and order and it is he, no one else, who manages to escape the confines of the hospital - he is the one who manages to fly the cuckoo’s nest.

After four or five viewings, do I like Cuckoo’s Nest? Generally, yes. It has enthralling and powerful scenes, and some of the best acting in movie history. It was the starting point of many big names, not just Fletcher but also Danny Devito, Brad Dourif, Christopher Lloyd and Vincent Schiavelli. The problem is that the lack of a sympathetic female voice, and the depiction of Randall as the hero of the piece in a post-Me-Too world dates the film considerably.

Highlight

The climactic scene involving Billy’s suicide and Randall animalistically attacking Ratched, nearly strangling her to death. In the film she is left with a croaky, less authoritative voice but the book is more punitive - she can no longer speak at all and many patients leave the ward before her return from sick leave.

Lowlight

The lack of a feminine perspective dates the film tremendously. All it needs is one benevolent authoritative female voice (perhaps a Head Nurse like Ratched who follows more sympathetic medical techniques) to balance things and reassure viewers that the film doesn’t hate women. 

Mark

7/10

47. Ellen Burstyn in 'Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore' (1974)

    

Plot intro

Alice Hyatt (Ellen Burstyn) is left widowed when her emotionally abusive husband is killed suddenly in a traffic accident.

Struggling financially, she leaves her home of New Mexico with her young son, Tommy (Alfred Lutter) with the aim of becoming a singer again in California. Unfortunately her lack of finances means that she finds herself stuck in Phoenix, Arizona, as a waitress in a cafe. But as she builds a friendship with her smart-mouthed colleague Flo (Diane Ladd) and falls in love with good-looking local, David (Kris Kristofferson), Alice starts to wonder where her new life should be…

Paul says...

I would argue that this is a lesser-known Oscar winning film by today’s standards and that Ellen Burstyn herself is a name that doesn’t crop up very frequently (certainly not compared to some of her Best Actress contemporaries such as Jane Fonda and Liza Minnelli). Many of you may know her as Claire Underwood’s mother in House of Cards (a series that fell out of favour when its lead turned out to be just as sinister and underhanded as the character he portrayed), and as the older version of Jessica Chastain’s character in Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar. But Burstyn’s most famous role is arguably as Linda Blair’s terrified mother in The Exorcist.

But just because you’re not familiar with her, don’t underestimate the Burstyn. She holds the Triple Crown of Acting, having won an Oscar, two Emmys and a Tony. Her Oscar win was her third of six nominations (although five of them were between 1972 and 1981). She also has a BAFTA and a Golden Globe (with multiple nominations for the latter) as well as a multitude of critics’ choice-style wins and nominations. Burstyn has had a prestigious and consistent career, even if her name tends to elicit comments such as “Oh I’ve heard of her, what’s she in?”

Alice fits right in with the '70s style of gritty, realistic dramas but it is notable as the second Best Actress win in a row which has a comedic edge to it, making it more palatable. Alice herself is treated abominably by most men. Her husband, who dies early on, is immensely confrontational, tyrannical, emotionally distant and abusive. A pretty typical marriage for many a working-class American housewife at the time. But when free from him, Alice displays tenacity, fear and anger along with a very human streak of clumsiness and absent-mindedness that makes her relatable and likeable. Her frustrations with her son are understandable- he’s quite irritating (even though she does leave him alone in motels for whole days). 

The first half of the film, however, drags, mostly because it is carried by Alice and her son and neither are characters that warrant a whole two hours of screen time. There’s an especially dark sequence in which Alice has a fling with a local man (Harvey Keitel), who turns out to be married and his cuckold wife comes to Alice’s motel room to confront her. The scene shared between them is unexpectedly tender and the writers avoid depicting either of them as unrealistically jealous shrews. But when the husband turns up, his true physically-abusive colours are on full display. He evidently believes that a man may do as he wishes (i.e. cheat on his wife, hit his wife, rape his wife) and he frustratingly never gets a real comeuppance. This is, certainly, a fair representation of '70s feminism, fighting to free women from the tyranny of marriage and patriarchy. But Doug and I resignedly braced ourselves for another hour of woman-bashing misery. 

Thankfully, the second hour lifts off, particularly after Alice gets a job in a cafe. This is all thanks to Diane Ladd (mother of Laura Dern who is in the background eating ice cream during the film) who plays quick-witted, obnoxious waitress, Flo. She’s a walking stereotype; a loud-mouthed, under-educated, brassy, good-hearted tart whom Alice snobbishly detests at first but grows to like. She’s a joy to watch and I was happy to see she was nominated for Best Supporting Actress. Paired with Valerie Curtin as Vera, a shy, weepy waitress, the two make outstanding side characters in a sitcom-like series of scenes that conclude the movie. In fact, they’re so much fun that most of the first half gets forgotten and the pedestrian and predictable love story between Alice and David (and David’s rocky father-son bonding with Tommy) becomes overshadowed.

Alice is a simple, sweet little film with dark undertones and welcome lashings of comic relief, and Burstyn is a capable actress. But sitting in between powerhouse actress-movie couplings such as Liza Minnelli in Cabaret and Louise Fletcher in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, it’s a tiny drop in an ocean full of classic movies and performances.

Highlight

The hilarious chaos that ensues between Alice, Flo and Vera as waitresses bonding, laughing and crying on their shifts (plus the bossy, confrontational but warm-hearted chef) is a joy to watch and should have been the focus of the film.

Lowlight

The first half is dreary and not giving Harvey Keitel’s horrid villain a full comeuppance might be realistic but it’s unsatisfying and doesn’t sit right to 21st-century eyes. 

Mark

4/10

Doug says...

Guess who mostly agrees with Paul…! This is a lovely little film that has faded somewhat into the sands of time. It’s got the dark themes that we have come to recognise in ‘70s cinema and in the first half of the film I was worried that we were in for a thoroughly depressing time. We saw domestic abuse, violence and a frightening turn by Harvey Keitel who lashes out at his wife with absolute savagery. 

I think this is all meant to be part of Alice’s ‘adventure’ - leaving her staid life behind and seeking her dream of being a pianist. But in a modern light, it feels a bit unnecessary and - like many of this decade’s films - overlong. I was about to give up. 

However, the second half of the film bursts into life, largely thanks to Diane Ladd’s Flo. It’s a sensational performance, quick-talking and sassy, full of life and feeling and offers up kindness to Ellen Burstyn’s Alice that humanises and makes us warm to the central character that much more. The scenes in the cafe are full of joy and life – and I think it’s of little surprise that this was the element lifted to be used in the ensuing sitcom. 

This film really is a sitcom trying to be a drama and had they got to the cafe half an hour earlier, I think it would be a much greater success (although probably not Oscar-winning). Ellen Burstyn is a name I recognise but I don’t know that she does anything ground-breaking here. I feel like it might be more that she delivers a solid performance in a role that seized the voters’ imagination. In a way the award is more for the writers’ decision to portray domestic abuse and a woman thriving after escaping the situation. 

I also wasn’t a major fan of the odd storyline around romantic lead David’s attempt to bond with Alice’s son – and then smacking him for misbehaving. It felt like they were trying to shove too many things into a film that was itching to be a knockabout comedy set in a diner. We could have had a film version of the diner scene in The Emperor’s New Groove, and instead we only got a bit of it. Ah well. 

Highlight

The scene when Alice and Flo are having a heart-to-heart in the toilets, cut with shots of Vera struggling with the chaos in the cafe is a superb example of classic comedy. It was acted and edited brilliantly, resulting in me laughing so hard I nearly fell off the sofa. 

Lowlight

This is a comedy! Cut the first hour and expand the second, and this would have been a knock out winner.

Mark

5/10