Oscar Night is sort of the Superbowl for movie lovers, only
not really, because the more you learn about the Academy Awards, the more you
realise they are ostensibly a popularity contest. If merit does factor into the
voting process, it probably accounts for 40% of the decision; other factors
that likely go into voters’ decisions: whether the movie was successful at the
box office, whether it’s “his or her year to win,” or whether the voter handed
his or her Oscar ballot to a spouse, a personal assistant, or a kid, to do the
voting “by proxy” as it were.
Consider this: Directors Robert Altman (MASH, Nashville) and
Alfred Hitchcock never won Oscars. (They received lifetime achievement awards,
but this is not the same as actually winning one.) Actreses Barbara Stanwyck
and Myrna Loy never won Oscars. Marlon Brando, whose performance in A Streetcar Named Desire revolutionized
acting, was the only lead performer in that movie who did not win an Oscar that year. The Academy made up for it by
choosing Brando three years later for On
the Waterfront. Brilliant comic actors rarely win, unless they move into
dramatic roles (like Jack Lemon or Tom Hanks). (But do check out Kevin Kline’s
magnificent Oscar-winning performance in the best comedy of 1988, A Fish Called Wanda). Paul Newman, who
gave many Oscar-worthy performances all the way back to 1956’s Somebody Up There Likes Me, was
nominated 6 times before finally winning for 1986’s The Color of Money. (Not that Newman wasn’t good, but it was
definitely an Oscar of obligation.)
You could almost make the case that Julianne Moore’s win
last year for her performance in Still
Alice was a “courtesy” Oscar, since Moore had been deservingly nominated
five times before. The trouble with that argument is that Moore’s performance
is terrific. In fact, Moore achieves a trifecta score with Still Alice: She plays a character with a debilitating disease (the
Academy loves those), it was “time” for her to win, and she’s fantastic in the
role.
It took the Academy 81 years to award a woman a Best
Director prize (Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt
Locker). The first black person to win an Oscar was Hattie McDaniel for Gone With the Wind (1939), much earlier by comparison. McDaniel
gives a fine performance (and I think her Oscar was deserved), but it’s hard
not to read that win as an endorsement of the kind of roles the Academy
believed black actors—and black people—should remain in for eternity. It would
be another twenty-plus years before Sidney Poitier would win the Best Actor
prize (1963, Lillies of the Field).
Movies about race often win something, though, but usually they’re the kind of
self-congratulatory movies about race like To
Kill a Mockingbird. I like many things about To Kill a Mockingbird (both the book and the movie), but it lives
in a world where the only bad racists are uneducated poor people. The problem
of racism was and is much deeper, because there are nice racist white people in
positions of power, making laws, enforcing their prejudice with impunity.
Oscar voters often give awards for the good intentions a
movie displays. Therefore, Shoah, a 10-hour documentary about the
Holocaust, was pretty much a lock for Best Documentary because its subject matter is sacrosanct, regardless of the fact that it takes nearly half a day to watch. (Film critic Pauline Kael ginned up controversy when she criticized the movie's length, and people decided that criticizing the movie equated allying one-self with Hitler.)
The Academy also loves doling out awards about Hollywood (or
acting). Last year’s Best Picture/Director winner was Birdman, a flawed study of an actor’s journey into madness while
starring on Broadway in a play he adapted from a Raymond Carver story. 1950 was
another good example, where Sunset
Boulevard and All About Eve (both movies about older actresses struggling to accept their ages) battled
each other for statuettes. Of course, those are both terrific movies, and Bette
Davis was robbed, because her performance as Margo Channing (in Eve) is the best work she ever did and
maybe the best screen performance by any actress of her day. (I’d put her next
to Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named
Desire, Olivia de Havilland in The
Heiress, and Barbara Stanwyck in The
Lady Eve, and a few others, probably.)
The big question I keep hearing is: Will Leonardo DiCaprio
finally win? Judging from history, DiCaprio is the likely winner under the
“it’s his turn” scenario, having been nominated multiple times going all the
way back to What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.
The problem is, DiCaprio’s performance isn’t the best of the five nominated.
People have reacted strongly to The
Revenant because DiCaprio’s character endures so much hellish torment as he
pushes on toward his goal of revenge. And because people love DiCaprio, they
feel he deserves to win. Actually, Michael Fassbender gives the more
accomplished performance, playing Steve Jobs. But I do think DiCaprio will win.
More interesting/frustrating: The problem of diversity.
There were several movies featuring people of color that Oscar could have
nominated for acting awards (and more) this year, including Chi-Raq, Spike Lee’s underrated masterpiece.
That film should be represented in multiple categories (including Best Picture,
and Best Supporting Actress for Angela Bassett). And what about Tangerine, a fascinating and vervy indie
movie starring two African American trans women?
What may happen is that, out of guilt, voters will pick
anyone who worked on any of those neglected movies that got nominations in
other categories (e.g. Best Screenplay) (e.g. Straight Outta Compton), even though those particular nominees are
white. Of course, all this sparring over race has led to people making a lot of
assumptions without any decisive proof. Cinema is incredibly diverse, and the
world of cinema is expanding all the time. The Academy will eventually catch
up, I think, even if it’s the last major award ceremony to do so.
Below are my Oscar predictions for 2016:
Best Picture:
Mad Max: Fury Road.
It’s won so many other awards from other groups over the past few months, and it’s the kind of movie
that would make Academy voters feel relevant. Spotlight feels like a clear-headed choice (and it’s my personal
favorite of the nominees), but the Academy voters might choose Max because it’s shiny and big and
expensive and, unlike so many similar movies, very good.
Best Director:
George Miller, Mad Max.
I can see them giving it to Iñárritu for The
Revenant, but that seems unlikely since he just won for Birdman last year. More often than not,
the Best Director and Best Picture winners go to the same movie.
Best Actor:
Leonardo DiCaprio, The
Revenant.
Best Actress:
If you had asked me a month ago, I would have said Charlotte
Rampling for 45 Years, hands down.
But after Rampling came under fire for saying that the “Oscars-so-white”
campaign was racist against whites, it’s possible Rampling may have ruined her
chances. Since Cate Blanchett has already won twice, I’m predicting Saoirse
Ronan will win for her appealing, sympathetic portrait of an Irish immigrant in
Brooklyn. (Unless the voters feel
that Rampling’s performance outweighs her controversy.)
Best Actor in a
Supporting Role:
Mark Rylance, Bridge
of Spies. The old guys do well in this category. Bale’s already won, and I
don’t see people getting behind Hardy or Ruffalo; Sylvester Stallone, also an
old guy, is the only other likely winner.
Best Actress in a
Supporting Role:
A tough category this year. I can see sympathy votes for
Jennifer Jason Leigh. Her character really suffered in The Hateful Eight, and Leigh is very good and very funny, even
though she’s as utterly unlikable as anyone else in that film. I’m really
pulling for Kate Winslet, even though she’s already won. Her performance in Steve Jobs is in many ways the glue that
holds the film together. She makes Steve Jobs sympathetic, which is no easy
task. It doesn’t feel like Rooney Mara’s year (because Carol isn’t Rooney Mara’s movie), and Rachel McAdams, who’s a
terrific actress, doesn’t get anything showy to do in Spotlight, so her chances are slim. Alicia Vikander is a
possibility, especially because of her strong performance in another 2015 film,
Ex Machina.
Best Adapted
Screenplay:
The Big Short or Carol. Either The Big Short because it’s gotten so much acclaim (and it’s the
kind of thinking person’s movie that gets rewarded with a screenplay Oscar) or Carol because it’s just the kind of
prestige picture—about waspy lesbianism—that the Academy responds to.
Original Screenplay:
Spotlight, a movie
about journalism, will likely be rewarded here
for the Best Picture award it won’t win but should.
Documentary Feature:
Amy, a popular
favorite about a compelling and tragic subject: singer Amy Winehouse.
Animated Feature:
I’ll double down on Inside
Out.
* I must credit Michael Gebert's book The Encyclopedia of Movie Awards, where I have gleaned a wealth information about the Oscars. His observations about how the Academy votes have certainly informed and shaped my own opinions.
* I must credit Michael Gebert's book The Encyclopedia of Movie Awards, where I have gleaned a wealth information about the Oscars. His observations about how the Academy votes have certainly informed and shaped my own opinions.
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