41. Barbra Streisand in 'Funny Girl' & Katharine Hepburn in 'The Lion in Winter' (1968)

  

Plot intro...s...

The Lion in Winter

England, 1183. Ageing, cantankerous King Henry II (Peter O’Toole) is concerned about which of his three surviving sons, Richard (Anthony Hopkins), Geoffrey (John Castle) or John (Nigel Terry) will succeed him. When his estranged, scheming wife Eleanor of Aquitaine (Katharine Hepburn) arrives for Christmas celebrations, the court machinations really start to escalate.

Funny Girl

New York, early 20th century. Young, clumsy, sharp-talking Fanny Bryce (Barbra Streisand) wants to become a star of the stage. Insecure about her looks and ability, she often turns to comedy as a crutch. Stage impresario Florenz Ziegfeld (Walter Pidgeon) notices her ability and the film charts her rise to fame as well as her tumultuous marriage to gorgeous gambler Nicky Arnstein (Omar Sharif).

Paul says...

A winning tie at the Oscars is a rare and notable thing- it has (so far) only happened six times in its near-100 year history. This is the only time it happened in the Best Actress category, and the second and most recent time in any acting category (there was a tie for Best Actor in the '30s). The most recent was 10 years ago in the Best Sound Editing category between Zero Dark Thirty and Skyfall.

This tie could not have happened to a more dynamic and disparate duo. Hepburn had nearly 40 years of experience under her belt, two Best Actress Oscars (one from the previous year) and a lion-taming personality that kept the men in check (she would repeatedly call out Peter O’Toole and Anthony Hopkins’ late arrivals after a night of drinking during the making of The Lion in Winter). Streisand, meanwhile, was a Hollywood ingenue. Just 26 years old (Hepburn was 61 at this point), she had made a name for herself in music and Broadway, originating the role of Fanny Bryce. But Funny Girl catapulted her to international stardom and now she is recognised, revered, idolised and imitated on the same level as Madonna, Cher, Liza and Dolly. It’s a very satisfying tie between two immensely iconic names.

But, of course, many people (including myself) can’t shake off the age-old question- who should have won? On one level, it’s irrelevant- they both won, they both deserved it, there doesn’t have to be just one winner, deal with it. On another level, it’s fun to analyse. Morally speaking, it should have been Streisand. As previously mentioned, Hepburn already had two Best Actress Oscars and was due to win another in the early '80s. Statistically speaking, however, it should have been Hepburn. Only members of the Academy can vote and membership is achieved through contributions to the movie industry. Funny Girl was only Streisand’s first movie therefore, at first, she didn’t have membership and couldn’t vote for herself. This would have meant that Hepburn would have won by one vote. But Academy president Gregory Peck rather cheekily fast tracked Streisand’s membership and she was able to vote, effectively causing the tie. 

But what do I think? (This question is, of course, why you’re reading this blog, surely). For me, Funny Girl is the superior of the two films. The Lion in Winter is great entertainment, it’s a campy, humour-driven depiction of 12th century England, displaying the dangers and intensity of court intrigue but at the same time mocking how farcical the whole process is. It is far more fun than more ponderous '60s period dramas such as A Man For All Seasons, Becket and Anne of the Thousand Days. It is laden with snarks, put-downs, deliberately convoluted plottings and melodrama. I especially enjoyed the way it depicted life in 12th century castles. Courtiers and servants all jostling, arguing and sleeping on top of each other. Dogs wander and defecate freely and everyone is surrounded by the drafts and darkness of these unhomely Norman castles. 

However, it’s over-long by about 45 minutes and its energy becomes exhausting. About half an hour in you quickly realise that the complicated machinations of the King and Queen, their sons and the King of France are so changeable, with every character being so disingenuous, that you’re not really supposed to know what’s going on- because even the characters don’t. Exactly which son is on whose side, who is lying to whom and why, all of this becomes irrelevant and you’re meant to enjoy the farcical chaos of the film. But without an involving plot, it all becomes cold, uninvolving and a bit pointless.

It also suffers (or benefits, depending on how you look at it) from the fact that Hepburn out-acts everyone. Yes, even celebrated actors Peter O’Toole, Anthony Hopkins and Timothy Dalton. She runs rings around them. The film is fine when she is off screen, but it comes to life when she is on it. Whether she is insulting the King, breaking down over her traumatic life, or craftily manipulating, well, anyone, Hepburn epitomises one of the most formidable and powerful women in history.

Funny Girl, meanwhile, is a flawless gem for me. As a musical it’s fine. It gave birth to the song Don’t Rain On My Parade but other than that the music is not especially well known or enduring. But Streisand gives one of the funniest, most charming, most poignant performances I’ve ever seen. Every one-liner hits a bullseye, every act of physical comedy shows incredible talent and expertise (scenes such as Fanny’s ruination of a rollerskating musical number and her own rendition of the ballet Swan Lake left us both howling). And above all, Streisand depicts a woman going through a very powerful growth. 

We first meet Fanny, all grown up, when she delivers the infamous line to her reflection “Hello, gorgeous”, which is far more wistful and delicate than when people imitate it (Streisand said it to her Oscar statuette when she received it). Then we flashback to her youth. She’s sharp-witted but blunderous, impulsive and erratic (and hilarious). As heartbreak and maturity sets in, Streisand seamlessly adds in more dignity and tragedy to the performance. Later, when Fanny is fending off reporters who are trying to get the goods on her husband’s arrest, her one-liners are no longer coming from a place of joy and rebellion but from desperation and exhaustion.

So if I were a voting member of the Academy, it pains me to say it, but I’d probably have voted for Streisand. Not that I want to let down my girl Katharine but I think Streisand gives a performance that is truly unique and demonstrates a wide range of talents (acting, singing, dancing, comedy). If we ever do a top ten blog post, I have a feeling Streisand will be in there.

Highlight 

Lion in Winter: There is no particular scene or moment here, I just want to highlight Hepburn’s performance. It’s one of the best of her career (and, considering her career, that’s saying something) and it keeps the film ticking along.

Funny Girl: There are so many scenes and moments to choose from. The Swan Lake scene and Streisand’s beautiful rendition of 'People' get special mentions. But for me, it’s a later scene in which Fanny’s gambling and financially-stretched husband Nicky is given a business proposition. As the friend describes the proposition, the camera stays on Nicky’s reaction, with Fanny covertly in the background reading a magazine. It slowly becomes apparent to Nicky that this proposal is too good to be true and that Fanny herself has orchestrated it. Streisand’s stillness becomes increasingly conspicuous and Nicky’s emasculated anger fills the room. It’s a small but brilliant scene.

Lowlight

Lion in Winter: The length of the film is my biggest gripe. Either they needed a less frantic plot or slice off 45 minutes or so.

Funny Girl: Honestly, the film is wonderful and I have nothing to criticise it.

Mark

The Lion in Winter: 6/10

Funny Girl: 10/10

Doug says...

It’s the age-old question: Katharine or Barbra? You can hear the pitchforks of the adulating gays being sharpened ready for battle from here.

These are two very different films – one is an overlong but refreshingly gritty historical drama. The other is a bells-and-whistles musical with some amazing standards of modern musical theatre ('Don’t Rain on My Parade'; 'People'; 'My Man'; 'Funny Girl') throughout.

I’m delighted to say that Hepburn and Streisand are both phenomenal in their respective roles, and both fully deserving of this shared trophy. I don’t think I can pick a favourite of the two.

Streisand shines as Fanny Bryce in a performance that meticulously recreates the physicality and voice of the legendary comedienne Fanny Bryce. If you want to see the real Bryce, take a gander the early Best Picture winner The Great Ziegfeld where she stars as herself, bowls into a dressing room scene, wipes the floor comedically with everyone else on screen and then sings a very sad song with remarkable pathos.

Streisand has done her homework. The jerky gait, the sharp as a whistle comebacks – they all ring true in Barbra’s capable hands. She then pairs this character study with a real ability to show what Fanny is feeling, underneath the layers of performative comedy. When Bryce hurts, we see it beneath the rictus grin or playful demeanour. Streisand is also very, very funny. One scene where she’s allowed to watch her lover play poker, on the proviso she doesn’t react – we see her fully reacting with sheer nerves and terror, only to switch into a dead-eyed zombie as soon as her lover turns to look at her. It’s comedy perfection, with every single comedy beat achieved beautifully.

All this isn’t even touching on Streisand’s voice which is one of the greatest in 20th century theatre and film. She delicately sings, she belts, she allows emotion to pour through while astounding with her vocal gymnastics. One always feels that she’s taken this career extremely seriously. Not for Streisand’s vocal chords the casual damage of age – even in her 70s and 80s, her ‘instrument’ is an extraordinary beast (just look at her 2016 Netflix special).

So surely it should have been a clean win for Streisand in a virtuoso performance at the centre of a finely balanced and perfectly delivered movie musical? Not so, for here, with a bang and a crash, comes Hepburn with quite a different proposition: an exceptional performance in a very flawed film.

The Lion in Winter is soapy, melodramatic, about an hour too long and doesn’t really know what it wants to say. King Henry II is off shagging the young woman he also wants his son to marry (??), meanwhile his three sons all struggle for power. There’s a full positioning of Richard the Lionheart as gay, a cast including Anthony Hopkins, Peter O’Toole and Timothy Dalton and a lot of people charging around holding flaming torches or brooding on battlements. I do not consider it a particularly good film.

However it is watchable, for one very simple reason: Katharine Hepburn, in one of the best performances I’ve seen from her. Do you love Diana Rigg as Olenna Tyrell in Game of Thrones? Of course you do. Well, here’s her predecessor.

Hepburn’s Eleanor of Acquitaine is ferocious. She is determined that her favourite son will be king. She wants to be free of the imprisonment her husband keeps her in. She also wants – above all else – to make him hurt. Eleanor in this play veers between jovially making all those around her terrified, and showing her vengeful teeth in full howl, and god does Hepburn lean in. She’s jealous, angry, upset, scared and powerful.

Hepburn manages the whole thing with ease – from the triumphant beginning to the triumphant end. Her husband and sons may be bruised and aching but she sails back to prison laughing. It’s exceptional – to manage the flood of feelings and the way she manipulates everyone around her and make it all seem feasible and gripping.

I think we’re all aware Katharine Hepburn is one of the greats – particularly this late point in her career where it feels like she did a Meryl Streep (post Devil Wears Prada) and re-entered the cinematic arena more able to showcase her own individual skills. This film cements her as one of the most amazing talents working in this era – and she does all that without changing her accent a jot. An American Eleanor of Acquitaine? Sure!

Highlight

Funny Girl: Barbra’s ability to capture Fanny Bryce is just wonderful – particularly her performance of the standards Bryce herself used to sing. It’s a gorgeous tribute from a-then upcoming legend to a historical one.

The Lion in Winter: There’s so many lines that Hepburn elevates through her performance, but this exchange stuck out, beautifully delivered with so much rage, fear and pain:

Henry II: Is it rich, despising me? Is it rewarding?

Eleanor: No – it’s terrible.

Henry II: Then stop it!

Eleanor: How? It’s what I live for!

Lowlight

Funny Girl: I do miss the comedy in the second half when it becomes more of a romantic drama.

The Lion in Winter: The film itself isn’t very good. It’s a shame as when Hepburn isn’t on, the quality and engagement drops hugely. 

Mark

Funny Girl: 10/10

The Lion in Winter: 5/10 

15. Mrs Miniver (1942)

Today's post is dedicated to Paul's Auntie Angela and her new husband Colin whose wedding we attended earlier today!

Plot Intro

Kay Miniver (Greer Garson) lives her idyllic lifestyle with her husband, Clem (Walter Pidgeon), her grown-up son Vin (Richard Ney) and her two smaller children. She spends her time bantering with the servants and supporting train station conductors in flower shows- she’s awfully nice. Then, war hits! Vin goes off to serve, leaving his fiance (Teresa Wright), Clem gets involved in Dunkirk and Kay ends up performing acts of heroism that she never knew she could achieve. 

Doug says...

Mrs Miniver is an interesting film in our overall catalogue. On the one hand it’s a simple patriotism-inducing effort, detailing the Minivers’ life in World War II and how they deal with bombing raids, death and chaos. On the other hand it’s a hugely important piece of social propaganda. The director William Wyler openly admitted he created it in order to encourage the US to join the war, showing the plight of ordinary plucky Britons thrown headfirst into fighting for their country. 

For me it bordered a little on the ridiculous. At one point Mrs Miniver (Greer Garson, doing a sterling job of turning trite lines into something more powerful) captures a German parachutist who delivers a monologue in her kitchen about how Germany will crush everyone without mercy. Famously the film ends with a vicar giving a huge speech about how this is everyone’s war, delivered from a pulpit in a bombed-out church. This speech was written the night before by the actor who gave it (Henry Wilcoxon), and was so well received that it was later printed in Time magazine and endorsed by the US President Franklin D. Roosevelt. As a catalyst for the US’s involvement in WWII, it seems to have been substantially influential. 

But where the film succeeds dramatically for me is in the smaller details. Wyler later said that he had romanticised the war too much and not gone far enough in showing the horrors of it. But I think he does himself down a little - in one scene Mr and Mrs Miniver are spending the evening with their two youngest children and family cat in their Anderson shelter (a rough bomb shelter in the garden). It’s all pleasant and they’re reading Alice in Wonderland, until the bombs begin to fall and you really do get a sense - more than any other war film we’ve seen so far - that this is a terrifying situation to be in. 

There’s a love story too between the Minivers’ eldest son and the granddaughter of the local aristocracy which is sweet enough and very well acted (although the real gossip is that Greer Garson married the actor who played this son shortly after the film ended. It did not last). But apart from that, it’s a bit of an obvious film - lots of mentions about roses (a symbol of England) not dying and staying strong. And on top of it all, there’s Mrs Miniver herself wandering about and being brave and full of fortitude etc. While Churchill himself said this film did more for the war effort than a flotilla of destroyers, it hasn’t necessarily lasted well. Written entirely for the mid-war audience of the time, this isn’t a film with an eye on how it will fare in future decades. But why should it be? It clearly achieved its purpose of uplifting and moving the audience for whom it was written. And that is - one could argue - the entire point of cinema. 

Highlight 

The scene in the bomb shelter and another scene when Mrs Miniver drives a car through a bombing attack are excellently done in giving a flavour of how terrifying these day-to-day situations would have been for ordinary citizens during the war. 

Lowlight

The German Parachutist and his monologue proving how ‘evil’ the Germans are was far too on-the-nose for me. It felt as if the film had tipped from realism into spoof, to its own detriment. 

Fun Fact!

Mrs Miniver was so successful that they made a sequel in the ‘50s, in which Kay Miniver has an affair with someone and then dies. I’d say spoiler alert but the chances of any readers watching this are minimal. 

Mark 

5.5/10

Paul says...

Having read a few reviews about it, we had to go into Mrs Miniver with a sense of humour- and thank heavens we did. In this version of 1942, our heroes and heroines attend lovely flower shows in between air raids, make perfectly-constructed grandiose speeches about the importance of community and perseverance, and maintain stiff-lipped, jaw-jutted looks of ferocity into the middle-distance at all times. The back of the DVD calls it “idealised” which is the understatement of the century- William Wyler might as well have made a film about the Holocaust with musical numbers.

It’s hard to criticise this too much (but I’m going to do it anyway) because Mrs Miniver would have resonated with early-40’s audiences ten times more than today’s cynical crowd. Greer Garson epitomised exactly what every struggling housewife aspired towards, with Walter Pidgeon’s acts of heroism at Dunkirk appealing to the middle-aged men left at home. The vicar’s final speech no doubt send seismic waves through the cinema’s audiences, and rallied up the troops for England no end. Nowadays, however, after a multitude of far grittier war films flagging up a more pacifist message, the film’s attempts at inspiration feel vapid. One might argue that it’s even quite tasteless in its quaint pastoral setting, and it’s lack of exploration of WHY we are fighting a war. As far as these script-writers are concerned, we must all steel ourselves to fight because….well…..ENGLAND. 

It is a credit to Greer Garson that, amidst her lengthy glares of fear and fortitude into the sky (she’s a dream model for any communist stonemason), she manages to turn an unsubtle script into something natural and spontaneous. She gives incredible side-eye when her eldest son returns from Oxford University with woefully misinformed and self-righteous views on the class system, and I found myself supporting her courage and resourcefulness when she ends up with a German parachutist in her kitchen (the life of a 40’s housewife, eh?). 

The film’s vacuity thankfully diminishes as it progresses. Scenes in the air raid shelters are genuinely frightening and I loved how minimalist they were- virtually no dialogue, no changes to camera angles and no special effects. Just the sound of explosions and jolts of fear running through the characters. Very Hitchcockian. And I found the unexpected (if unlikely) death of one of the main characters very moving too.

So Mrs Miniver isn’t all desperately patriotic schmaltz. It’s Important (with a capital I) and played a key role in propping up a war-weary audience. But, by today’s standards, it lacks the nuances of How Green Was My Valley, which wasn’t afraid to portray its characters as flawed, and the sweeping emotions of Gone With the Wind. Next week’s iconic entry will take us to far darker territory. 

Highlight

Like Doug, I found the air raid shelter scenes to be harrowing. A brilliant insight into what it must have been like.

Lowlight

The entire subplot involving a flower show competition. I get that it’s supposed to help audiences identify with the characters, and support the idea of carrying on with everyday life despite the bombings, but a flower show is my idea of hell.

Fun Fact!

Greer Garson won Best Actress for this. Her acceptance speech was a lengthy five and a half minutes (rumours abounded that it was 55 minutes). Since then, Oscar acceptance speeches have had a time limit of 45 seconds. Thanks Greer!

Mark

5/10

14. How Green Was My Valley (1941) (Feat. Citizen Kane)

How Green Was My Valley Plot Intro

A small coal mining village in Wales during the late 1800’s. The Morgan family consist of Gwilym Morgan (Donald Crisp) and Beth Morgan (Sara Allgood) and their seven very-Welsh-named children, in particular their only daughter Angharad (Maureen O’Hara) and their youngest son, Huw (Roddy McDowall). There’s also a dishy new vicar, Mr Gruffydd (Walter Pidgeon) who has eyes for Angharad. Huw is the narrator and main POV of the family’s trials and tribulations, as they take us through strikes, money-worries, illnesses, emigration, malevolent school teachers, marriages, and deaths down the mines. 

Citizen Kane Plot Intro

In his colossal, barren mansion of Xanadu, newspaper magnate and Rupert-Murdoch-esque businessman, Charles Kane (Orson Welles), dies. His last word is cryptic and inexplicable to even his closest servants and friends- “Rosebud”. A team of journalists, determined to get a scoop, delve into his life, determined to discover who, or what, Rosebud is, and discover more about this enigmatic man. 

Paul says...

Citizen Kane is often named as one of the greatest films of all time. The American Film Institute, which compiles arguably the most definitive rankings of films and stars, places it at number one, surpassing other such household names as Gone With the Wind, The Godfather and Casablanca. It has had supreme influence on film-making thanks to its innovative cinematography and non-linear narrative structure (flashbacks and music-heavy montages are used very liberally). Any good film student would have studied it at some point - on pain of death. 

So why no Best Picture Oscar for Kane in 1941? Kane has so much to say about the human condition and how it changes when corrupted with power. It’s also a landmark in film-making styles. Well, on viewing How Green Was My Valley, I can now see why it won. It’s outstanding. The film is sweet, involving, and has a huge amount of heart to it, and provides an insight into a culture and time like a David Starkey documentary.

While Orson Welles approached Citizen Kane with a heavily artistic and conceptual frame of mind, John Ford (who won four Best Director Oscars) directs Valley much more simplistically, but lets the story and characters speak for themselves. There are extremely powerful and inspirational moments- Beth Morgan’s recovery from illness and her speech against the miners ostracising her husband; the elder brothers’ bittersweet departures to America, New Zealand and Canada in search of a better life; a hypocritical preacher’s condemnation of a fallen woman in front of an entire congregation. I was transported to 19th-century Wales throughout the whole two hours. It was so vivid and natural that it was like looking through a time-hole into a forgotten age. I wanted to be there, but the fear and suffering of these people, who manage to find humour even in the most grim of moments, also made me want to remain a bystander. I defy anyone to make their way through the film without shedding at least one tear, particularly for Sara Allgood’s stunning performance as matriarchal Beth. My only criticism is of the episode involving a sadistic, snobbish school teacher which felt a little too pantomime amidst the naturalism to me.

Is it a deserved win over Citizen Kane? In hindsight, perhaps not. Valley has pretty much faded into obscurity, unless you’re a big film buff, while Kane’s endurance and timelessness is self-evident. But in 1941, with war raging and cinema’s audiences crying out for smaller, more-domestic films, films that show real people overcoming real situations rather than the reverential life stories of the ’30s, Valley would have been the perfect catharsis for any cinema-goer worried about their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons consumed by the fogs of war. Charles Kane could be read as a relatively tenuous allegory for Hitler because his pursuit of helping the under-privileged turns into a struggle to maintain power and influence over the people, but Valley resonates more strongly in its depiction of communities helping each other no matter what strife is thrown at them. 

These are two very different films. Kane is innovative, character-driven, and timeless in its themes. Valley is more traditional and linear in its plot structure (similar to All Quiet on the Western Front, Cimarron and Cavalcade), but with more heart and realism than in previous pictures. It’s a much more quintessential example of the ’40s film as the next few films will prove, while Kane combines the magnitude of the ’30s films with the experimentation of the ’70’s. The latter would be my personal choice of winner due to its current notoriety, but both are excellent pieces of entertainment. Your preference really depends on your taste in films. 

How Green Was My Valley Highlight

Beth’s recovery from a prolonged illness is a powerful scene. Beforehand, the miners had been turning against her husband for opposing their strike. But they greet her at the door with friendliness and atonement. A lovely moment symbolising the importance of camaraderie and community.

Citizen Kane Highlight

Oh God, there’s so many moments to choose from! I suppose my favourite is when Kane is contacted by a colleague in Cuba saying that everyone’s writing poetry here and war will not happen. Determined to provide a headline, Kane replies, “You provide the prose poems, I’ll provide the war”.

How Green Was My Valley Lowlight

An over-acting school teacher bullying Huw for his low-class status and allowing other children to assault him. He eventually gets his comeuppance but it felt very melodramatic and incongruous compared to other episodes.

Citizen Kane Lowlight

I literally can’t think of anything. The film is so carefully thought out and connected together that it’s verging on perfect (despite my assertion that nothing can be totally perfect).

How Green Was My Valley Mark

9/10  

Citizen Kane Mark

10/10 

Doug says...

When we started this project, we scrolled through the films ahead of us, and alighted on the curious fact that Citizen Kane - considered by many film buffs to be the best film ever made - did not go on to win the Oscar, and lost out to a now-obscure film called How Green Was My Valley. We decided there and then that when it came to this week, we would watch both films and critique them, seeing whether the forgotten film about Welsh mining villages would stand up to the renowned Orson Welles masterpiece. I for one was excited to write a scathing review of some saccharine piece that had nothing on Welles’ film of power’s ultimate decay. 

As it was, they are both extraordinary pieces and to define which should have won the Oscar is ultimately incredibly hard. Kane is the first example we have of someone actually taking cinematography and running with it - something that films such as Birdman and La Vie En Rose owe a huge debt to. Every shot is perfectly planned, the central character is constantly shrouded in shadow, and in his final shot in the film, he walks past a mirror and is reflected in it thousands of times, each self walking on lonely into the dark. I was gripped by the central drama of who this man is, and the groundbreaking methods Welles has used to create it. 

So how on earth could Valley have beaten it? Well actually, it is in itself a wonderful piece. By focusing on the actualities of miner life (we see cave-ins, poverty, strikes and infighting), and setting it from one family’s viewpoint, we are drawn into the characters while never falling into sentimentality. And the Welsh singing throughout! It is a musical, mesmerising piece, with heroes and villains. The teacher Paul so disliked for pantomime villainy, I found rang terrifyingly true - and when two miners from our central character’s village storm into the classroom and beat the teacher up, I found myself loudly cheering at the tv screen. There’s a whole ream of themes - from the rich/poor divide, to how religion means different things for all of them. It’s filled with naturalistic acting, realistic and emotional narratives, and all tinged over with the everyday humour that is in all our lives. 

Ultimately I am unsure of who should have been the winner. In terms of breaking ground with style, cinematography and non-linear stories, Kane takes the crown in no uncertain terms. But for me the real winner is (by a hair’s breadth) Valley - it is our first instance of really naturalistic, powerful acting - led by the incomparable Sara Allgood who as the matriarch whips us through comic scenes and one scene of devastating tragedy with utmost realism. As she stands, frozen, simply waiting to hear the terrible news, I found myself unable to rip my eyes from her face. A forgotten masterpiece. 

   

How Green Was My Valley Highlight

Sara Allgood quietly steals every single scene she’s in with patient good-humoured kindliness, meaning that a tragic scene later on reaps great pathos.  

Citizen Kane Highlight

Every single shot is thought about and considered. Welles clearly adhered to the school of Hitchcock thinking. It’s a lesson in cinematography.

How Green Was My Valley Lowlight

There are moments which feel slower - though not dragging - but are soon whipped back up into the story, and proven to be necessary. 

Citizen Kane Lowlight

The acting, while elegant, is not really worth writing home about as the style overwhelms it. Also, the second wife’s angry voice is so irritating that it detracts from the power of her scenes

How Green Was My Valley Mark

10/10  

Citizen Kane Mark

10/10