The Last Emperor</>
Though lavishly produced and meticulously lensed, Emperor shouldn't wear the Best Picture crown of 1987. The story of China's final emperor spans 60 years (you feel all of them) and fills the screen with colorful costumes, exotic locations, and a staggering number of extras. But it's a gorgeous travelogue, not a gripping drama. Presumably, the other nominees (Broadcast News, Fatal Attraction, Hope and Glory and Moonstruck) split the vote to let this dull biopic take the throne.
The Artist</>
We've seen this movie before—it's called Singin' in the Rain, a much better tribute to the golden age of Hollywood. The Artist may be a sweet soufflé, but it's too slight to be worthy of the big Oscar honor (especially given weightier contenders Moneyball, The Descendants and The Tree of Life). We can probably blame this one on an aggressive campaign as well as the elderly voters who loved reliving the past through a silent, black-and-white film.
Out of Africa
"I had a farm in Africa…" Zzzz... A period plantation pic based on the life of author Isak Dinesen, Africa does feature a flawless Meryl Streep, stunning photography, and a soaring score by John Barry. But it also has a miscast Robert Redford, an uninvolving narrative, and the pace of an elephant lumbering across the plains. Voters must have been moved by the power players involved, including director Sydney Pollack. But we weren't moved by the tepid romance.
Million Dollar Baby
The Academy loves Clint Eastwood and an underdog tale, so it's no wonder this ham-fisted boxing drama knocked out the competition. The actors tread familiar turf—Eastwood is the irascible but tenderhearted coot, wise ol' Morgan Freeman dispenses sage advice and Hilary Swank plays the super-plucky upstart. Clichés abound, as do awful Southern stereotypes. Alexander Payne's wine-soaked buddy pic Sideways should have drunk-punched Baby to take the 2004 title.
Titanic
We have an iceberg-sized chip on our shoulder because this three-hanky melodrama won a record-tying 11 Oscars. Yes, it deserved awards for score, visual effects, and other technical achievements. But Best Picture of the Year? With that dialogue? We suspect Academy members were so grateful Titanic dumped oceans of money into their industry (a rising tide does lift all boats) that everyone jumped onboard.
Chariots of Fire
Guys sprint on the beach to Vangelis' synth-heavy score and...that's all we remember... This true story of British track athletes competing in the 1924 Paris Olympics won the 1981 Oscar over Raiders of the Lost Ark, which is cinematic perfection from beginning to end. Chariots, on the other hand (and feet), never catches fire and—despite countless running scenes—crawls along to its final finish line.
The English Patient
We're with Elaine from Seinfeld on this one. We want to follow her example and shriek at the screen, "It's too long! Quit telling your stupid story about the stupid desert and just die already! Die!" OK, that might be a little harsh, but like Elaine, we don't get all the love for this ponderous WWII romance. Are we pissed that Patient beat out Fargo for Best Pic? Oh yah, you betcha!
Crash
Crash is an appropriate title, since this message movie has all the subtlety of a head-on collision. The preachy pic starts with Don Cheadle's detective stating the premise ("We crash into each other just so we can feel something") and then smashes together stereotypical characters in contrived, writerly ways. Brokeback Mountain should have won instead. Voters wanted to feel good about themselves—but in the safest way possible.
American Beauty
Screenwriter Alan Ball went on to create Six Feet Under, so we can almost forgive him for this over-praised portrait of suburban malaise. Though well acted, the characters remain caricatures, from the midlife-crisis husband (Kevin Spacey) to his Lolita-like obsession (Mena Suvari) to the closeted, homophobic, ex-military neighbor (Chris Cooper). Plus, the tone drifts as much as that damn plastic bag Wes Bentley films. American tries to pass off smug condescension as smart satire, and it ain't so Beauty-ful.
The Greatest Show on Earth
The Greatest Show? Hardly, especially when you consider that Cecil B. DeMille's circus epic beat out High Noon and The Quiet Man for Best Picture of 1952. This three-ring saga boasts a parade of stars, including Charlton Heston, Betty Hutton, and James Stewart as a sad, on-the-lam clown. But given the soapy drama and empty spectacle, this Big Top flop should've bitten the sawdust instead of claiming the top prize.