OSCAR BIDS: THE ACADEMY HATH SPOKEN

Surprises? A few. Disappointments? More than a few. Overall reaction to this year’s Academy Award nominations? The academy is the academy is the academy, and nobody will ever get hurt on its cutting edge.

In this year of studio shake-ups and the growing strength of the American independent cinema, it must be reassuring to the Hollywood Establishment to know that there are some institutions that changeth not: the Polo Lounge, the chili at Chasen’s and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

First of all, the bright side. For everyone who believed that the East would never rise again, there is the nomination of Woody Allen for his direction of “Broadway Danny Rose.” Of all the major nominations, this is the biggest surprise, since the academy classically is in lock step with the Directors Guild. (The only variation this year in the nominees, is that the DGA selected Norman Jewison for “A Soldier’s Story” instead of Allen.) Allen’s screenplay was also chosen--as for the losers from his picture, more in a moment.

For those who thought the best-actor category was already in cement, the appearance of Jeff Bridges (“Starman”), Tom Hulce (“Amadeus”) and Sam Waterston (“The Killing Fields”) may suggest that there is a younger membership and it can make a difference . . . at least in the nominations. Now the full body of the academy takes over, and we shall see how adventurous the voting becomes when the winners are announced on March 25.

The appearance of “El Norte” in the category of best screenplay written directly for the screen is probably a double shock. First that an American independent film, distributed by a non-major, is up there at all, and secondly that it was chosen for its screenplay.

If the major nominations were, shall we say, on the conservative side, they were all as worthy and estimable as they were predictable. Did you really expect to find “Stranger Than Paradise” among the top five? But there were a few real heartbreakers, and let us give them their due for a moment.

Some were bitter disappointments but not surprises, like the lack of recognition for either Francis Coppola or John Huston, although their films received two nominations apiece.

“Choose Me” was bold, blithely original and completely shut out. Not Alan Rudolph’s screenplay or direction, not the singular performances of Genevieve Bujold, Lesley Ann Warren or Keith Carradine, not the wit and incisive comment of Steven Legler’s production design, not even its haunting pivotal song, “You’re My Choice Tonight” (by Luther Vandross and Marcus Miller) as sung by Teddy Pendergrass. “Not the academy’s kind of picture,” someone in the know remarked. Our loss, in every respect. Where are those young voters when the academy needs them to look as though it knew were were in the 1980s?

Did “Paris, Texas” receive no nominations, in spite of its unanimous victory in Cannes, because it was perceived as “arty,” European, or downbeat? Whatever the case, the non-recognition of Harry Dean Stanton shattering performance is saddest of all the acting omissions, I think. Also lost was Robby Muller’s cinematography, the revelatory work of Nastassja Kinski and Ry Cooder’s exceptional musical score.

Another significant loss was “1984’s” lack of nominations--not for its two stars, John Hurt and Richard Burton, for Michael Radford’s direction of Michael Radford, the cinematography of Roger Deakins or Allan Cameron’s exceptional production design. Here, the grueling quality of the material probably contributed significantly to its non-showing.

Comedy again pulled a blank. When it comes to light vs. heavy, with only rare exceptions (Dustin Hoffman in “Tootsie”) heavy drama leads the way in nominations, and so we lost Robin Williams in “Moscow on the Hudson,” Steve Martin in “All of Me” (this may have been a case of open-mouthed backlash at his winning in two national polls), John Lithgow in “The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai,” Kathleen Turner in “Romancing the Stone” and, saddest of all, Mia Farrow in “Broadway Danny Rose.”

Among the best supporting actors, the strongest of all the performance categories this year, the nominees (Adolph Caesar in “A Soldier’s Story,” John Malkovich in “Places in the Heart,” Noriyuki (Pat) Morita in “The Karate Kid,” Haing S. Ngor in “The Killing Fields” and Ralph Richardson in “Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes”) were exceptional. This award should be the real cliff-hanger.

But let us not forget the performances of John Lone in the sadly neglected “Iceman” (not even a make-up nomination, much less an acting one?); of any number of actors from “Cotton Club”: Gregory Hines, Julian Beck, Bob Hoskins, Fred Gwynne; of Jeffrey Jones in “Amadeus,” Danny Glover in “Places in the Heart” or Richard Crenna in “The Flamingo Kid.”

The fact that Ennio Morricone’s exceptional musical score for “Once Upon a Time in America” somehow fell between the cracks in the nominating process is a tragic omission. (As already reported by Michael London last week, composers may submit their own work, but Morricone lives in Italy and reportedly does not speak English. It might be assumed that either the producing company--the now-defunct Ladd Co.--or Warner Bros., the releasing organization, would see to a detail like that. Apparently, no one did.)

However, in the music category, there is a buried treasure: Alan Rudolph’s “Songwriter,” which by now is practically an underground movie, got a nomination for Kris Kristofferson’s original song score. Perhaps, while they’re up, academy voters will have a chance to notice the pungent joys of Bud Shrake’s screenplay, Lesley Ann Warren’s poignant performance (her second this year), or Rip Torn at the very most ornery top of his form.

It would, I suppose, have also been very un-academy-like to give a supporting nomination to the succinctly witty performance of Eszter Balint in “Stranger Than Paradise,” but the myth that nominations never come out of unsuccessful movies was laid to rest with Christine Lahti’s eminently deserved one for “Swing Shift.”

This year, there was one film whose nomination you could bet the house, the barn and the kids on: “George Stevens: A Filmmaker’s Journey,” George Stevens Jr.’s extraordinary documentary portrait of his father, a film that goes straight to the heart of why anyone should choose to make motion pictures his or her life. Gripping, evocative, heartbreaking, it shows American films, and a distinctly American film maker, at their finest.

It failed to be nominated. You second-guess the academy; I give up.