1971 Alternate Oscars

I know some of you are big fans of A Clockwork Orange. I wish I shared your enthusiasm.

It's not that the film expects me to root for an empty-headed sociopath like Alex (Malcolm McDowell) or that I object to the film's muddled message — that in a free society, individual liberty should trump collective responsibility even when the individual in question is cheerfully guilty of rape and murder — it's the film's slack narrative pace. Somehow Stanley Kubrick has stuffed three hours of boredom into a two hour package. I never fail to check my watch, something you should never feel the need to do when watching a movie.

And this from a guy who thinks 2001: A Space Odyssey — a virtually silent film that moves so slowly, it practically runs in reverse — is one of the most exciting movies ever made.

As Roger Ebert wrote in panning A Clockwork Orange during its original run, the film commits an "unforgivable, artistic sin. It is just plain talky and boring. You know there's something wrong with a movie when the last third feels like the last half."

But maybe that's just him and me.

Instead, I voted for The Last Picture Show, a modern Western based on Larry McMurty's novel about teenagers coming of age in a small Texas town on the raggedy edge of nowhere. Nothing muddled about its message: You can either waste your life trying to live up to a myth that wasn't worth living in the first place or you can learn how to be a human being — but you can't do both so make up your mind before it's too late.

Far and away director Peter Bogdanovich's best work. Stars Jeff Bridges, Ellen Burstyn, Eileen Brennan, Cybill Shepherd, Timothy Bottoms. Features Oscar-winning turns by Ben Johnson and Cloris Leachman. Great movie, highly recommended.

Finally, I also want to mention the Academy's choice for best picture, The French Connection. It's the story of Popeye Doyle (Gene Hackman), a deeply-flawed cop obsessed with nailing a dapper French importer of high-grade heroin (played, thanks to a famous casting blunder, by Fernando Rey, a Spanish actor who spoke no French).

It's a good movie and boasts Hackman's most iconic performance, but if you haven't seen it (or haven't seen it lately), I strongly urge you to skip the version of it currently streaming within U.S. borders. The film's owner, Disney, is only showing a censored copy (even on the Criterion Channel!) excising a scene establishing Popeye's undeniable racism.

I don't know whether Disney's decision was driven by left-wing censors who want past works of art to reflect modern sensibilities; or by right-wing censors who want to stamp out any hint that Black Lives Matter might just have a point. Either way, they remind me of those (no doubt, apocryphal) Victorian prigs who put pantaloons on piano legs for fear that the instrument's shapely curves might inspire lustful habits.

I suggest you get thee hither to your local library and check out an old-school Blu-ray or even older school DVD. If your town still has a library, that is. The Puritans are everywhere — and they're coming for you!

My choices are noted with a ★. A tie is indicated with a ✪. Historical Oscar winners are noted with a ✔. Best foreign-language picture winners are noted with an ƒ. A historical winner who won in a different category is noted with a ✱.