Oscars: The Grouch
Hi from Brooklyn, Lynda. Here in the East, winter has arrived, just in time for spring. It's unnerving—but normalcy, what's that? I have a sense that, reflecting the national mood as well as recent show-biz controversies, the Academy Awards ceremony is going to be emotional this year, no matter what happens. Will it be ugly no matter what happens? Will it be productively (boldly, educationally, confrontationally) embarrassing, or just squirm-inducing? The odds on the latter are 100 to one—but gifted exhibitionists are full of surprises.
PRINT
DISCUSS
E-MAIL
RSS
RECOMMEND...
Facebook
MySpace
Mixx
Digg
Reddit
del.icio.us
Furl
Ma.gnolia
Sphere
StumbleUponAwards are not godlike dispensations based on merit, they are elections. In some cases, the voting group is small and unimpeachable; in others, large and easily swayed by hype. And then there is the Academy Awards, a fascinating collision of art and politics and business, skewing liberal and middlebrow but on rare occasions following the rabble. (Gladiator comes to mind.) The challenge is in trying to understand the collective mind of its voters—how they hope to present their industry to the world, and how those hopes can translate into good movies down the line. There is also the matter of the ceremony itself, and whether its host, presenters, and winners will find the right balance between exhibitionism and showmanship. (The best Oscar performers display elements of both.)
As a voter, a resident of Los Angeles, and a producer of such films as the upcoming The V-Hot Zone (as well as a writer yourself), you are someone whose thoughts on these matters are bound to be more interesting than mine. So I'm mostly going to pepper you with questions, pick your brain—see how much I can get you to say without pissing off too many of your peers.
But first I'll get some stuff off my chest.
This is the rare year that my two favorite movies—In the Bedroom and Gosford Park—were nominated for Best Picture, yet neither has a chance, and you know what? I'm too old and calloused to waste any tears. I'm surprised—happily—that they were nominated. Robert Altman is my favorite living director, but he won't win and I won't be broken up by that, either. I think of it like this: Oscar voters are choosing between Opie and Grumpy, and, especially this year, I can't really blame them for going with the redhead from the (mythical) heartland. I also love Lord of the Rings, that rare super-fantasy-blockbuster with brilliant artistry and Wagnerian emotional heft, but it won't win—it was all concocted too far away. (For the record, I hated almost every second of Moulin Rouge and am mystified by its popularity; it is to musicals what mincemeat is to Châteaubriand.)
My gut says look for A Beautiful Mind to sweep, and I don't know how I feel about that. I was moved by the movie and liked it OK, and I can understand why it's the perfect Oscar bait. It surprises audiences, it has sensational performances, and it celebrates perseverance in the face of a lousy personality and mental imbalance—something that must really hit home in Hollywood. I like the central conceit, even if it's fiction: that Nash's delusions bubble out of the culture of Cold War paranoia. (And I now realize why I found Christopher Plummer such a riotous choice to play the is-he-or-isn't-he shrink: He was an obsessed CIA Cold Warrior attached to a sleep institute in that marvelous B-movie Dreamscape.) There is so much anger, craziness, and emotional daring in Russell Crowe's performance that the schlockification in the later scenes almost doesn't matter.
Almost.
I was asked by a radio interviewer the other day if I thought the academy looks down on movies that fictionalize reality. What a dumb question! A glance at the three-quarter-of-a-century history of the awards suggests that its voters look down on movies that don't fictionalize reality—that allow too many ambiguities and dissonances to creep in.
I live for teasing ambiguities and witty dissonances, and found the climactic, stand-by-your-troubled-genius thrust of A Beautiful Mind neither enlightening nor memorable. The movie is an uncomplicated monument to marriage, yet the real story is a complicated monument to marriage—full of break-ups and other loves and, finally, an inability to separate. How much more challenging, how much more entertaining the real story might have been! But Universal, DreamWorks, Ron Howard, Akiva Goldsman: They didn't think we could handle the truth. So a vote for A Beautiful Mind is a vote for that conviction.
On the other hand, it's also a vote against the alleged whisper campaign. When the movie first came out, A.O. Scott in the New York Times and Chris Suellentrop here in Slate detailed the ways in which the movie simplified the story. Others did, too. But no one in Hollywood especially cared until the explosive collision of anti-Semitism and Oscar ballots. The charge is nonsense, of course: Give the man a break—he was a delusional schizophrenic! And I can't exactly blame the writer, director, and studio(s) for not wanting Jew-bashing in the picture. How many studios vied to release The Believer?
Lots, lots more to talk about … Is there going to be another dreary attempt to cut short the acceptance speeches—the most interesting parts of the show? Who's spending the money out there? Has Miramax—with a slate full of December releases that's virtually built around the Academy Awards—dropped the ball on In the Bedroom?
Will Halle Berry win for Monster's Ball? Am I alone in thinking that, although she took a lot of risks, she mostly stank up the screen? I saw what looked like private, Method-y exercises that didn't make the leap into artistry. The greatest superexposed actors—say, Jessica Lange or Debra Winger—don't just simulate emotion, they illuminate it, whereas I didn't have a clue what was going on in Halle Berry's character. (That might also be the fault of the direction and the dreary, detached framing—I've heard from people I trust that the script itself is really good.)
In thinking over my own preferences and predictions—Crowe or Tom Wilkinson, Sissy Spacek, Ben Kingsley (but Ian McKellen will win), Helen Mirren (but Jennifer Connelly will win)—I find no African-Americans. And if that comes to pass, there will be a spate of articles decrying, once again, the academy's failure to recognize black actors. Yet it seems to me the height of racism to say that Denzel Washington should win over Crowe or Wilkinson because he's an African-American and African-Americans don't have enough Oscars. I know this is the line that conservatives take against affirmative action—and I largely support affirmative action. But should these kinds of issues color (so to speak) awards of merit?
Then again, Denzel Washington is magnificently funny in Training Day.
Then again, it is an election we're talking about.
Your turn.
David
The Least Fun Thing About Video Games: Friendly Fire
Why Is It Such a Big Deal That We Found Water on the Moon?
A Place So Beautifully Sad, It Makes Me Want To Paint
Help! I Got My Co-Worker's Sister Pregnant!
The Obama Administration Is Giving This Gitmo Detainee a Raw Deal
Another Book From Philip Roth About How Much It Stinks To Get Old
Notes From The Fray Editor:
Dira Necessitas said "I love Denzel, but Crowe was robbed" and touched off a long argument. Other topics of interest were Halle Berry's speech (many posts, few defenders), Gwyneth Paltrow's dress (no compliments), and Russell Crowe's choice of roles (one post, strong if slightly wild views).
Reader Comments From The Fray:
See, this is what really depresses me about Hollywood and its movies. Ron Howard makes consistently squishy, feel-good movies that are just next-door-to-really-good enough that he gets Oscars, or is at least a real contender for one. He could put that manipulativeness to work for him and turn out some really brilliant films if he could get rid of the Here Comes the American Hero attitude (I think he played the Opie and Ritchie Cunningham roles too long.) A bit of a darker, more cynical attitude could have boosted several of his films to another level altogether. Imagine Apollo 13 directed by a cross between Howard and David Lynch. Doesn't that sound like a good idea? Actually, given Lynch's films, he would have been a much better choice for director of A Beautiful Mind. We would have gotten a really good view of a schizophrenic mind, I think...
--Kathleen
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
So maybe the Academy gave into some sentimentality and political correctness. So what? If it was the triumph of style, it was not at any great sacrifice to substance. Rather, I think Hollywood brought substance to the rest of us this year with their stylistic choices. Through some partly deserved and partly symbolic gestures, they set an example and gently reminded the rest of us as a society that of which we are capable but have yet to achieve fully. Indeed, in Hollywood at least, the only two remaining groups snubbed by Oscar are wizards and hobbits - and there is always next year!
--The Bell
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
(3/25)