by Cláudio Alves
When the dust settles and the euphoria has faded, an Oscar win can be more cause for sadness than joy. Sometimes a victory is, in the grand scheme of things, a loss, even something of a curse. The impact may not be immediately felt or felt by the award winner. At least not in life. It is his legacy that takes the toll. Those considered robbed will always have their defenders, misfortune becomes legend, another kind of validation no less impressive than the little golden man he failed to understand. But it is a different story for those the Academy has awarded. They become villains in memory, perhaps fools. It is a sad affair, because more often than not, those whom history paints in these unfortunate colors are themselves robbed. They cannot enjoy the glory of victory, merit is buried by the indignation of injustice.
This is the case of Art Carney, who won the Oscar for Best Actor at the 47th Academy Awards for the now 50-year-old Harry and Tontosurpassing highly acclaimed roles such as Pacino in The Godfather – Part II and Nicholson in ChinatownDid he deserve the prize? Maybe not. Did he deserve to have his triumph seen as a mistake, a joke, a robbery? Absolutely not…
Director Paul Mazursky is perhaps one of the most forgotten figures of the New Hollywood, all things considered. At the height of his success, he was more attuned to the mood of the era than any of his peers, approaching changing social mores with a light touch and a semblance of wit. Perhaps because his style was so modest and he took no formal risks, Mazursky was able to produce accessible cinema within a new industry paradigm. His films were always character-driven and spoke to audiences with minimal alienation or challenge, conveying a sense of connection, some warmth, a gentle laugh that contained little cruelty or sarcasm.
But of course, his popularity can also be seen as a reason why he has barely been noticed in the annals of film history. Although he was highly praised by such notable critics as Roger Ebert and Pauline Kael, he is probably best remembered today for his roles as a director. Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice And An unmarried woman are exceptions to the rule, but even they are often discovered through the viewer’s interest in their actors rather than the man behind the camera. I know I first discovered Paul Mazursky’s work because of the Oscar nominations his cast received – six out of 15 feature films. Then again, I can say the same about many masters of cinema.
Only one actor from the sextet won – Art Carney in 1974 Harry and Tonto. At the time of production, he did not yet have much of an on-screen presence, having started his career in radio before moving to television. His breakthrough came with Ed Norton, a supporting character as a sewer worker in The Honeymooners, which earned him half a dozen Emmys and the admiration of audiences. This high regard was probably why Mazursky offered him the title role of Harry. At first, the director wanted James Cagney, but the old Hollywood gangster was not interested, and although Laurence Olivier was the studio’s choice, it didn’t feel right.
It’s hard to imagine the film in its current form with any of these actors, who so often tend to show off their transformations and highlight their efforts. Harry and Tonto would probably crumble under the pressure they would bring to the film, losing the good-natured gentleness that sets the tone of the film, the dedramatized register that makes the film seem so deliberately small. But perhaps Olivier and Cagney could counter Mazursky and Josh Greenfeld’s recurring slips into downright schmaltziness. Or they might have made it worse by overemphasizing that facet, while Carney’s understated approach represents a kind of transformation with moderation.
At the start of his journey, Harry is a retired teacher living alone in the building where he and his wife raised their children. His only company is Tonto, a loyal orange cat who Harry refuses to leave behind when he sets off on a journey across the USA after being evicted. What follows is a road movie full of nostalgia and worries about old age. It is about the affairs of a quiet man who meets old friends along the way and makes new ones, feels the sweet pain of the many ghosts that haunt his memory, and reflects on it all in the little time he has left. It would be easy to rely on sentimentality, but Carney has other priorities.
First, there is the question of age. Unlike the elder statesmen of the films who were initially considered for the role, Carney was considerably younger than the character. The former television star was in his fifties and his outward appearance was largely reflected in the neglect of an elder. He was covered in ageing cosmetics, feigned poor hearing when making phone calls and had a shaky gait when Harry moved too quickly for his tired body. This is most evident in the early scenes of the film, but as you get used to Carney’s character, it disappears.
While he may go full throttle a little too hard when it comes to his old antics, the actor holds back when it comes to showing emotion. Take a scene in which Harry reunites with an old love who now lives in a home and is losing her battle with memory loss. Although Mazursky overdoes the recipe with cheesy close-ups and a cheesy score, Carney forgoes it. His expression is closed but not off-putting, his demeanor patient but never blissful. There’s a hint of disappointment, the flush of tenderness that speaks of a love that once burned and simmered but now merely simmers. It’s a treasure of long-lost youth, not the heart of the self.
Carney cannot be said to violate Mazursky’s demands of his leading man. Instead, he brings out the best of the director’s endearing realism and keeps the film from getting lost in the auteur’s worst choices. Whenever he gets a partner in the scene who is willing to play the game of restraint, he is even more impressive. Take the reunion with his daughter – an impressive if underused Ellen Burstyn – and marvel at the notes each actor chooses to play and the keys he leaves untouched. Consider how Harry consoles his son – a surprisingly poignant Larry Hagman – without showing him as much kindness as the old man is willing to show Tonto.
Not that the cat was particularly pampered. Carney was not used to having a feline companion when he Harry and Tontobut he quickly grew fond of his furry co-star. While one might expect this newfound feeling to inform the performance, his treatment of Harry’s pet is that of an old man and an old cat. He is very circumspect and weaved with a certain practical matter-of-factness, a spirit of pragmatism that leaves little room for cuteness. As an unashamed cat person, I must confess that I would have liked more of the spotlight on the orange boy. Still, I respect the film’s disinterest in the sentimentality of the scenario. If only it had ended five minutes earlier, before the finale covered the screen in syrup.
Whether it’s because Mazursky never wrote him the material or because the actor has turned away from over-the-top demonstrativeness, Carney doesn’t have an “Oscar scene.” In a way, that only makes his win more impressive. It’s a very reactive performance and no one expected him to win it, with Jack Nicholson being the absolute favorite among the five nominees – which also included Pacino, Albert Finney as Poirot and Dustin Hoffman’s LennyThree of the nominees did not even appear at the ceremony, which began with the Chinatown Star was victorious. The New York Daily News even suggested that Carney should skip the competition. Fortunately, he ignored the naysayers and was there to accept the surprise Oscar.
Nicholson received his award the following season, bolstered by industry-wide sentiment that he deserved a win long ago. In fact, it is not his shadow that hangs over Carney’s surprise success. Rather, it is Al Pacino’s defeat that marks the legacy of Harry and TontoLooking back, most agree that the actor should have won an Oscar in the 1970s, pointing to The Godfather – Part II as a logical place to honor him. Unfortunately, he only won in 1992, an award for his makeup that crowned one of his worst and most parodied performances, rather than a classic turn. Wouldn’t it be nicer to have an Oscar story where Pacino got his recognition for Michael Corleone, rather than the hoah-ing chaos in The scent of women?
This is not Carney’s fault, however, nor does it invalidate the modest virtues he can display in Harry and TontoAs the film celebrates its 50th anniversary, we should remember its glory rather than its mediocrity, the grace in its leading man’s performance rather than the bad luck in who he beat at the Oscars.
Harry and Tonto is not currently streaming anywhere, but you can find it on physical media.
