Oh, those Academy Awards . . . I love ‘em, and I hate ‘em. Why do I always get so worked up about them?
On a philosophical level, I don’t really believe in picking bests. I’d rather come across as all generous and high-minded, magnanimously declaring, “Everyone’s a winner!” However (as you may have noticed from my last post), I also can’t resist getting swept up in the competitive spirit and boisterously cheering for my favorite underdog.
But, really, how can we possibly determine a best film of the year? There are so many good ones, all for different reasons. That’s what makes it seem like such a popularity contest, measuring something unmeasurable and, ultimately, of little value. Okay, there’s the publicity value and the status in the industry thing. But what is the artistic value of picking one single best film out of hundreds released in a given year?
So, at its worst, the Academy Awards is all just one big brash, gaudy, shameless effort at commercial promotion. That’s why sometimes I hate that I love it so much. But, the fact is, as base and self-serving to the industry as it may be, I do love it. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
And that’s because, at its best, it’s a big, brash, gaudy, shameless celebration of the movies, these goofy, imperfect diversions from daily life that range from our most trivial collective fantasies to truly inspiring and transporting works of art (with most falling somewhere in between). As Leo Tolstoy couldn’t help loving his selfish, imperfect Sophia, so I can’t help loving the movies. (Needless-to-say, I finally saw The Last Station yesterday. In a word, it was great.)
If I were the producer of the show, I would punch up the celebrating-the-movies stuff. Do more of what they did last night with the comic bit of Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin sharing a hotel room in the style of Paranormal Activity. That was good. The tribute to horror films was also fun to watch, with all those old favorites popping up on the screen (The Shining, Rosemary’s Baby, Bride of Frankenstein). And the John Hughes tribute was quite moving. Made me want to go watch all his films I’d missed (as I got further and further away from his target age range).
But I’m sure there will be no dearth of mention in all the Oscar wrap-up today that the interpretive dance number seemed woefully out of place. If it were up to me, I’d fill that spot with something like the fantasy dance sequence from 500 Days of Summer, which was great simply for its movieness – a bit of Showboat, a bit of Snow White, a bit of Ferris Beuhler’s Day Off.
Instead of trying to squeeze more films into the BP category, why not feature the big budget, wide release and high cultural impact films in affectionate comedy skits and musical numbers while the smaller, more artistic ones are being honored with the awards? At home watching, we’ll all play “Name that Film” as each interlude goes by while we also tick off the wins and losses on our ballot.
Time problem, you say? Well, here’s a way to make time: Ditch some of those technical categories, especially the ones where they have to explain to the audience what it is, like sound editing and mixing, even picture editing. Not to mention the categories where they couldn’t come up with more than three nominees, like visual effects and makeup. (I know this is controversial – apologies to my friends in editing and visual effects.)
I certainly wouldn’t ditch the short and documentary film categories in the interests of time. That would undercut the goal of celebrating movies overall. Besides, those are the categories that produce some of the most entertaining acceptance speeches. (Come to think of it, they could make the show even more interactive if they made the docs and shorts available ahead of time on iTunes. That way, the viewer at home could make a more informed vote in those categories. And the filmmakers could make a little money. Doesn’t this seem like a bit of a no-brainer?)
But I’m not the producer of the show.
So – what about the winners? As I predicted, much of it was highly predictable. Probably the biggest upset was Precious winning over Up in the Air in the Adapted Screenplay category. I’m glad Precious got that recognition. Where I was way off was on the Costume category. But I got the impression that Sandy Powell, winning for The Young Victoria, agreed with me that perhaps someone else would have been a more appropriate awardee. She seemed to shrug it off as a ho-hum third Oscar, before generously championing costume designers who work on non-period films.
I am also glad, despite my Tarantino allegiance, that The Hurt Locker got its due. In fact, on reflection, I have to say there’s a lot of justice in it. First, of course, is the woman director thing. It was quite poignant and moving to hear Barbara Streisand say, “Ah, the time has come!” The movie industry is well known to be way behind other professional arenas, such as medicine and law, in its overall gender parity. At least in this one area, some catching up has been accomplished.
But did you also notice that it was the writer, Mark Boal, who gave the Best Picture acceptance speech? Tons of justice there! It was his vision from the beginning. His initial inspiration. And he was somehow able to keep his hand in as producer all the way through. That’s unusual. The position of the writer, generally speaking, is pretty far away from the position of the producer. Hence, the long history of lowly writer jokes, such as Alec Baldwin’s quip about Matt Damon getting an Oscar for screenplay and going on to become an action star, which is the most action a writer has ever seen in Hollywood. Love the layers of nuance there considering the many meanings of the word “action” – sex, profit sharing, popularity, excitement, fun, all of which writers are widely reputed to not get much of. Not to mention recognition. The woman director thing is pretty great. But the writer, the one who came up with the idea for the film in the first place, getting the Best Picture award? That is totally cool!
I also heard a little factoid yesterday that if [that other film] had won, it would be the highest grossing Best Picture winner of all time (little surprise there), and that if The Hurt Locker won, it would be the lowest grossing Best Picture winner of all time. Perhaps not everyone would be with me on this, but I see justice in that as well.
And here’s one more curious distinction: Of the roughly 31 wide release films nominated (in any category), 18 (almost two-thirds) were released in November or December and eight were released between July and October, which means only five were released in the first six months of the year. Two of those – Harry Potter (cinematography) and Star Trek (makeup) – were big budget, big release films, and two – Coraline and Up – were animated, these being characteristics that helped keep them from fading out of consciousness. So what was the fifth nominated film released way, way back in the first six months of the year? That had to remain in the industry consciousness long enough to be remembered for awards season? Standing, therefore, in a category of its own? Hmm. The Hurt Locker.
Also interesting to me is seeing to which film the runner-up longevity award goes (for its July release) – none other than my personal pet favorite . . . In the Loop!!! Yea! Way to go little under-the-radar scathing political satire! Yes! Yes! Yes! Now, I’m sure some enterprising social/cultural theorist could have a field day speculating on the implications of The Hurt Locker and In the Loop sharing this distinction, but I’m not going to go there.
I would, however, like to say something about Fox News’ embrace of The Hurt Locker as a “conservative values” film because of its portrayal of soldiers as “heroes.” The film opens with a quote from war correspondent Chris Hedges: “The rush of battle is a potent and often lethal addiction, for war is a drug.” And by the end, the film leaves no doubt that its main character is hooked. Is he a hero for wanting to go back to Iraq and defuse bombs again? Maybe to some people. Or is he simply an addict, and therefore the victim of an unseen drug pusher for whom it is convenient that he is driven to need more and more life-and-death, risk-taking excitement?
I read this film not as a tribute to heroic sacrifice, but, rather, as laying bare a psychological trap endemic to the warrior life – the compulsion to seek more and more danger. My 82-year-old friend Martha, who I went to see the film with, pointed out to me that in past wars, soldiers didn’t re-up over and over again. They did one or two tours and were discharged. Or the war ended and they went home. This war shows little sign of ending. It is well known that for an addiction to grab hold and flourish there must be a continuous supply of the drug of choice, which, at eight years plus, there certainly has been. Another link that can be made from this film is that, for those whose goal it is to prosecute endless war, its helpful to have addicted soldiers. We just have to get them to believe they are being heroes when they choose to go back and re-indulge their addiction.
That’s what I got from The Hurt Locker.