Actor vs Director - Cases Where One Gets "Too Much" Credit

People tend to completely disregard the effort of child performers and give 100% of the credit to the directors, as if children are incapable of understanding what's happening, and I never understood why.

Even today I still see people object to Quvenzhané Wallis's nomination with the argument that that performance was merely the result of Zeitlin manipulating her in the right ways and coaxing something special out of her with minimal conscious effort or awareness from her end, and it makes no sense. The studio put out some behind the scenes footage, and you can clearly see her go in and out of character in between takes. Obviously directing children is a big challenge and Zeitlin deserved all the acclaim he got, but he's not the sole person responsible for that marvelous performance.

This type of thinking completely disregards that ALL performances are collaborative efforts between actors, directors, writers, editors etc., and that adult performers are just as likely as children to need thorough guiding and micro-directing (e.g. Elizabeth Taylor and Mike Nichols in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?).

I don’t know if it’s quite what you’re asking, but for me, the way people argue that Ryan O’Neal is perfectly cast in Barry Lyndon fits the bill. I’ve heard so many people say that it was Kubrick’s intention to cast a block of wood in the title role, that Redmond Barry is a boring ignoramus bumble-fucking his way to the top, and that O’Neal was perfectly cast (even if he himself wasn’t aware of the fact). But that feels so much like rationalization on the part of staunch Kubrick fans, who think that the man was incapable of anything less than genius. Redmond Barry was a conman and social climber; he had to have some modicum of charisma to get where he was, and O’Neal had none of it.

I’d extend this criticism of Kubrick’s casting into The Shining as well. Nicholson was horrendously miscast, to the point it actively harms the film and my ability to enjoy it because, let’s be real, no one managing a world-class hotel looking for a winter caretaker right after the previous caretaker gruesomely murdered his whole family would look at Jack Nicholson and think, “Yeah, that guy looks like he’s got all his screws tight—let’s give him the job.” Duvall’s shrinking-violet routine works in spite of itself, but I feel like Kubrick actively robbed Wendy of any agency in the story to an almost misogynistic level (Wendy is far stronger and more put-together in the novel, and all of the departures on Kubrick’s part feel unnecessary).

In short, I feel Kubrick is worshipped as this god amongst mortals who could do no wrong, when honestly, almost every movie he made from 2001 on suffers from severe flaws, primarily on a human storytelling standpoint.

It is honestly just the way the cookie crumbles, and to be fair it is likely that Ethan Hawke would praise Schrader if he wins any award along the way. It is interesting that so often the complaint is the long list of thank you that are derided in Oscar speeches, however it is the one place within the ceremony that the collaborative process of film will be recognized within the overall sentiment of the ceremony that focuses on the individual achievement (that in all great likelihood came from collaboration).

I'm not nearly so old that I remember how people took to Pacino in The Godfather: Part III, but I think the prevailing notion at the time was that even with the film's ambition, a lot of people were discontented with the path that Michael's character went, and Pacino was coming off of a decade-long drought with the Academy. He got nominated that same year for Dick Tracy, which I think leans into the more outsized, blustery Pacino that became somewhat vogue to imitate and make fun of, but looking at the 1990 Best Actor lineup, I can't really see anyone he would've been able to oust. Irons was sweeping, De Niro had a banner year (and Williams was arguably sixth), Harris had Jim Sheridan (back when that meant something) and was the "eclectic passion pick," Depardieu had the surprise foreign language hit of the year, and Costner was headlining the eventual self-directed Best Picture winner. Even so, people might not have blamed Pacino for the failings of The Godfather: Part III but they may very well have been discontented by the very public issues regarding money and the prevailing notion that everyone involved had sold out. I still maintain that Part III's success with nominations was afterglow love for the original films and a desire to want to believe that it was good, similarly to how critics/industry lost their minds for American Hustle at the outset, and then realized, "Wait, we fucked up." Pacino got nominated that year for something that I think was a bit easier to swallow, despite it being a comically outsized performance, and maybe any respect they may have had for the man in Part III just transitioned there.

JFK is a weird case, because even though Costner had just come off a huge year (Best Picture/Director wins, an actor nod), they might've felt he'd been recognized enough. Plus the film is the quintessential ensemble movie; Costner is largely reactionary to bigger, louder characters. And that year's Lead Actor category was dominated by loud, showy, noisy sorts (but not necessarily good; take out Hopkins and you've got a dire bunch). And let's be real, 1991 was a wash anyway because they decided to give Bugsy double Supporting Actor nods instead of JFK or Barton Fink.

DiCaprio missing out for Titanic seems weird in hindsight, considering his status as an Academy favorite, but it's not that surprising. 1997 was a year where all but one Best Actor nominee was an older legend. And DiCaprio was the pretty-boy movie-star who was gracing every single magazine and poster. I just don't think they took him seriously as a contender, nor did they want to. Winslet was always going to get in because they favor ingenues, but DiCaprio was always going to have a tough time because younger actors tend to get snubbed here, the role itself seems deceptively simple and easily parodied (and there was a lot of mocking of DiCaprio at the time; it wasn't until his Scorsese outings where the guy started getting some respect), and Damon just sucked up a lot of the air with his breakout.