A few days ago, the nominees for the 92nd
annual Academy Awards were released to the public, and the usual hot takes and reasonable
criticism were levied against them. Far too white, far too centered on men, too
filled with blockbusters instead of better but less seen films. Since the beginning of the Academy of Motion
Picture Arts and Sciences, there has always been some criticism of how the Academy chooses
which films should be congratulated – or even counted among its numbers. Academy members, thousands of people ranging
from visual effects artists to actors, have made some questionable decisions. After years of controversy and screw-ups,
maybe people are starting to wonder “Do the Oscars matter?” It's a challenging question to answer because
it might mean something different to different people. Do the Oscars matter, compared to other more
important issues going on in the world? Well, no, because the Oscars are a series
of gold statues given mostly to rich people, but that's not really what is meant by “Do
the Oscars matter?” Instead, the question is “Are the Oscars
of great significance in the medium of film in determining who and what is the best?” That's a more cumbersome question, but at
least it narrows down what everyone is actually asking. Let's try looking at this from a few different
perspectives so we can get the most complete picture possible. [I. Qualifications] Among the most notable
evidence that the Oscars is not a meritocracy of world film is that its qualifications and
criteria immediately disqualify almost every motion picture made in the world every year. The criteria for what can and cannot be considered
for an Academy Award is incredibly stifling, making it next to impossible for anything
besides a movie in the English language with big studio backing to qualify. Even the rare independent film that blows
up big with both audiences and critics is almost always distributed by a huge studio. At that point, it becomes another part of
the Hollywood system. A film that has humble origins but becomes
popular is almost always distributed by one of the big Hollywood studios. So, what are these qualifications? The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences
has a rulebook – often updated – that tell filmmakers and studios which movies “count”
and which movies don't. Some of the rules make perfect sense. For example, one rule states that a feature
length film is over 40 minutes. Anything less is a short film. Frankly, calling a 40 minute film “feature-length”
is overly generous, but that's where the broad, inclusive nature of the Academy rules ends. The criteria for whether or not your film
can even be considered by the Academy is far more complicated, and it covers everything
from where you screen your movie to what projector resolution you use. To be considered for an Academy Award, a film
must run in Los Angeles county for at least seven consecutive days. That doesn't seem like a big roadblock if
the movie in question is a big budget film with pre-release buzz like 1917, but the vast
majority of films released across the world every year don't have that luxury. This means independent films and foreign films
that can't get a theater to show their movie for a solid week in a tiny corner of the globe
are instantly disqualified. The competition for upstart directors all
clammoring for a spot at an arthouse theater or a megaplex must be rough. Foreign films especially don't get a lot of
theater space in America. Bong Joon-ho remarked upon this recently,
calling the Academy Awards a “regional” movie awards ceremony. His most recent film, Parasite, is up for
Best Picture, but this is incredibly rare. In order for a foreign film to be nominated
for any Academy Award BESIDES Best Foreign Language Film, first, it needs to get picked
up by an American distributor, then it needs to get shown in theaters in one specific county
in America. But that only means that it is not immediately
disqualified. Realistically – it needs to do so well among
both film critics and audiences that the Academy voters take notice. It's got to be the next Crouching Tiger, Hidden
Dragon. In the past ten years, the only non-English
language films nominated for Best Picture have been Amour in 2012 and the aforementioned
Parasite. There is more. The major motion picture studios are populated
by Academy voters and board members, and they have recently tightened qualifications in
order to kneecap Netflix. If a film is released through streaming services
or video-on-demand first or even simultaneously at the time of its theater release, the movie
is disqualified. That's why The Irishman and Marriage Story,
two Netflix films nominated for Best Picture this year, had limited theater releases even
though Netflix obviously wants these films to be exclusive to their streaming service
to drive up subscriptions. So, if the question is “Are the Oscars of
great significance in the medium of film in determining who and what is the best?” then
the answer based purely on this is only...kind of? Some of the best motion pictures made every
year are in the English language or are popular foreign films praised by English-speaking
critics, such as Parasite. However, if almost everything is immediately
disqualified and almost everything else is not considered, then “kind of” is the
most charitable answer to the question. But there is so much more to how the Oscars
are chosen... [II. Campaigns] A studio campaign for an Oscar
both is and is not similar to a presidential campaign. Both use tremendous amounts of money, both
are out to convince those who can vote who they should vote for, both can be deeply dishonest
and malicious. But they also differ greatly and not only
because the stakes are so much lower for an Oscar. The money to elevate a movie or actor in the
eyes of the Academy doesn't come from donors, it comes straight from the coffers of the
studio. According to the rules, the studio must only
look like it's “celebrating cinema”, must appear almost disinterested in the award itself. That's why “For Your Consideration” is
such a popular phrase and not some campaign slogan about why their movie is
the best. This is all nonsense, of course. The studio is actively campaigning, it's just
being done more quietly. The billboards and ads in trade publications
are only the public face. The real campaign is happening more quietly. In the 90's, campaigning for the Academy Awards
began to change, and while it might not be entirely fair to blame this is one gross monster,
I mean, it is kind of his fault, right? Harvey Weinstein ran what was, for a while,
a small production company, and a small production company like Miramax could make a lot of their
money after their Oscar nomination. Miramax did everything they could to earn
Academy votes. They called voters at their homes, on vacation,
set up screenings for *where* they were on vacation, threw parties attended by actors
in their movies and invited the press, sometimes straight-up lied to Academy voters. They even set up screenings at motion picture
retirement homes for elderly Academy voters – who were on life support but could still
vote. Academy voters receive For Your Consideration
booklets, DVDs, copies of screenplays, and CDs of soundtracks. Voters are invited to tons of screenings and
can only go to so many, ramping up the competitiveness among the studios. Voters are targeted by For Your Consideration
ads in industry publications, on social media, ads on billboards, subways, and taxis. Those last few are generally only in New York
and Los Angeles. The process usually starts in the fall, after
the blitz of film festivals in Venice, Telluride, and Toronto, and ramps up over the next six
months leading up to the Oscars. All of this raises awareness of the film and
creates the notion among the voters that this movie could win and therefore must be on their
must-watch list. Movies that aren't pushed as hard by studios
or not at all are not nominated because the voters are never given any reason to believe
they could win. The Academy is massive, and though estimates
vary, it's at least 7,000 but possibly higher than 8,000. This means that the campaigns reach every
voter must be massive, too. Both the actors and directors campaign. Tom Hanks, for example, is said to be involved
in campaigning in all of his films, and he can apparently really turn on the charm. There are endless Q&A's and campaign events
and dinners. Academy voters are “judges” but they are
not a hopefully unbiased jury. They party with the nominees and spend time
on their vacations with them. Winning an Oscar has about as much to do with
making a great movie as it does campaigning and convincing others to vote for your movie. So, if the Oscars are about hobnobbing with
the right people and earning their vote through parties and advertisements, do the Oscars
matter? “Kind of”? Despite the campaigns and the lack of anything
resembling integrity, sometimes great performances and great movies are rewarded. Would they have been rewarded without a successful
campaign? Probably not because a strong campaign will
beat a strong movie, but in a better world, they would have “earned” the award. Sometimes the right movie or right person
wins even if the endless campaigns mean they always win them for the “wrong” reasons. But there is still one more perspective on
whether or not the Oscars matter. [III. Representation] If the Academy Awards are
not a meritocracy in terms of judging films across the world or in terms of judging films
based on quality and not campaigning, then what about inclusiveness? Are all films even within the limited scope
of the Academy given a fair shake? Ten years ago, a woman won the Academy Award
for Best Director for the first time in history. It took Kathryn Bigelow and The Hurt Locker
for this to happen. Only five women have ever been nominated for
Best Director, and in 2020, women directors were snubbed again. In addition to this, films that could be described
as “male-coded” or appealing to male demographics look to be the big nominees. 1917, a movie populated almost exclusively
with men for somewhat obvious reasons, The Irishman, taking place in the patriarchal
mafia, Ford v. Ferrari, a dad movie set in the world of car racing, and the latest entry
by dude-bro messiah Quentin Tarantino. Furthermore, the best picture nominees, with
Parasite being the lone exception, are deeply...white. In early 2015, following the popularization
of the #OscarsSoWhite hashtag, detractors of the hashtag and movement did what detractors
always do when the subject of representation is broached. They claimed that the cream will always rise
to the top, that no actual barriers have ever existed and that choosing a person of color
for an acting award or directing award amounts to quotas. The truth is, the Academy Awards have never
been a true meritocracy, actual barriers have existed for a long time, and nobody is asking
for a person of color to receive an award on that basis but rather to be considered
equally. Unequal treatment goes back to the Hayes Code
of the 30's, 40's and 50's. While the code was most notable for censoring
risque material, the code also forbade miscegenation, a now rarely used word that effectively means
the mixing of races. This severely limited roles for people of
color all on its own, but it particularly affected women of color. In those days, most leading roles for women
were as the romantic partner of the leading man, and miscegenation rules mandated that
they either both be white or both be black, and since Hollywood wasn't in the business
of heavily promoting black films, the former was almost always the case. If there were no leading roles for women of
color, then there were no opportunities for Best Actress in a Leading Role. Although the Hayes Code ended in the mid-20th
century, this remained the standard operating procedure for a long time due to Hollywood's
now infamous inability to accept change. Times have changed, but the demographics of
the Best Picture and Best Director nominees are not radically different. This is not to say that there is some secret,
shadowy cabal actively working to keep the Oscars as white and male as possible. Rather, it has to do with the demographics
of the voters. To this day, long after the demographics controversy,
only 16% of Academy voters are people of color, and only 28% are women. The most charitable explanation for this exclusion
is a kind of unconscious bias. Producer Amy Pascal explained it like this:
“[Voters think], these kinds of stories are important to me, and these kinds of stories
are less important to me. … I do wonder if many thousands of voters,
deciding what to watch on their screeners or deciding which ones they go to, might have
an unconscious reaction...” Again, even the most charitable explanation
for exclusion, an unconscious reaction, still doesn't neatly solve the issue. The Academy does occasionally award Best Picture
to a black film about the black experience, but with the exception of Moonlight, there
is always some catch. 12 Years a Slave is set in the distant past,
and Green Book is set during segregation. Not to mention that it's a white savior film,
a black helplessness narrative that was rightly excoriated by black film critics and activists. Both of these films are...safe. They do not challenge white audiences about
their present day attitudes but instead tell white audiences and white Academy voters how
far they themselves have come. This is particularly true for aging white
Academy voters who remember those days and can applaud themselves and pretend such attitudes
are things of the past. Bear in mind, 12 Years a Slave may be “safe”
for white audiences, but it's also really good and deserving of the recognition, unlike
Green Book, which is not. It's bad. It's a bad movie. In contrast, movies like Sorry to Bother You
do not receive Academy award nominations. They are less...safe. Sorry to Bother You is set in modern day and
shows white audiences wherein their guilt lies. It's not an “Academy” movie. The intersection between whiteness and dudeness
is that even when a movie breaks through, there is usually a catch. Only one best-picture winner over the past
decade has had a woman protagonist – The Shape of Water, starring Sally Hawkins but
directed by Guillermo del Toro. When a woman director's movie is nominated
for Best Picture, there is a good chance, she herself will not be nominated for Best
Director, and should such a movie break through, it will almost certainly be a movie about
white women. Studios pick their candidates based on “electability”
and pour money into them, targeting Academy voters with ads, mailers, screeners, events,
and more. Studios engage in a self-fulfilling prophecy. They know that the demographic makeup of the
Academy voters, and they cater their campaigns toward those demographics. Then, when we get years of #OscarsSoWhite
and only men nominated for best director and bro-movies and so-called “safe picks”
instead of something intriguing and new, the studios have plausible deniability. They didn't choose the best picture nominees. The Academy voters did. But of course, the Academy voters were nudged
in those directions by the studios, sent particular screeners, invited to specific events for
specific movies and so forth. This is how a movie like Joker, which received
mixed reviews, and has the least amount of critical appraisal out of all the best picture
nominees, can be the most nominated movie of the year. Least praise, most nominations. Whether you loved Joker or hated it is irrelevant
to the point. Joker discourse is over, please spare us your
hot take, nobody cares. The point is that any movie that almost half
the community of critics gave a thumbs down to getting the most nominations over everything
else is an indicator of an effective campaign and not any inherent quality. Academy voting is not a meritocracy – it
is a game. Warner Bros put all their eggs in this basket. They went hard on Joker, and it received 11
out of Warner Bros' 12 overall nominations. The 12th was for Kathy Bates' performance
in Richard Jewell. Warner Bros clearly did not try to position
Just Mercy for that spot, despite being released in the prime December spot for Academy voters
and despite an overall better critical reception than either film. You can draw your own conclusions about why,
but the studios know the demographics of the Academy voters, and they model their campaigns
around electability. The Academy members and therefore voters are
predominantly people who work in the motion picture industry in Hollywood. Though everyone from costume designers to
directors can be members, the actual membership has a disproprotionate amount of actors. If the “goodness” of a movie is judged
mainly on the performance by the lead actor, that can be enough to grant it Best Picture
status due to the disproportionate amount of actors as Academy voters. So, based on all these biases and weirdly
specific demographics and privileges, do the Oscars matter? Kind of? The Academy Awards still, more often than
not, chooses good – albeit sometimes not great – movies. Almost certainly not the best movies even
within the stringent and exclusive qualifications and biases, but “best” is subjective enough
that “kind of” might be the best answer here too. Honestly, the biggest piece of evidence that
the Academy Awards don't matter is how forgettable the best picture movies are. Two years after the statues are handed out,
does anyone really remember the nominees? Is anyone out there still stanning hard for...Spotlight? Does anyone still talk about Best Picture
winners like Argo or The Artist? Is anyone's favorite movie Best Picture nominees
like Philomena or Brooklyn? Did anyone even see Brooklyn? Is there a big fandom for Extremely Loud and
Incredibly Close? Are there brainy, academic courses about garden
variety biopics like The Imitation Game and The Theory of Everything? Is anyone dying for a sequel to The Big Short? What I'm trying to say is: Movies are great,
but the Academy doesn't always pick great movies. The Academy Awards ceremony is a terrible
predictor of what will remain important to the medium. The list of nominees is a snapshot of what
studios and paid consultants have decided to present on one night of the year and happily
throw away the morning after.
For whatever reason, RC's latest stuff hasn't been connecting with me as much. I'm not hating on the guy or whatever, he's good at what he does. But this was especially well done I feel
"The Oscars are bad except for the few good thing it did..."
That was really not up to his normal standards.