1985 was a good year for films - maybe even great - but this one missing out on a gong went a long way to convincing fans that ol' Oscar is little more that a hood ornament for good party members.<br /><br />11 nominations and not a single title: such was the Academy's disdain for one of their greatest directors; and one who had to wait another 8 years before whatever prejudices had prevented them from handing him the statue before allowed them to give him 7 for Schindler's List, which is, arguably, not as good (and I'm half-Polish).<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, Schindler was a classic. And I'm not knocking 'Out of Africa' (which won that year) either; but it was, in my mind, a class behind this one: an epic story of suffering and hope that brought me to tears - and I'm not a big cryer.<br /><br />Maybe it was the music (superb), or the cinematography (sumptuous), but more likely simply the acting: Whoopi, who proved to all of us that she was much more than just a comedienne; Danny Glover, who I'd never heard of before; and, of course, Oprah.<br /><br />The rest is history; but, at the time: who knew?