The awards from two years ago offer a perfect illustration of this tendency. The winner for best picture, The King's Speech, was a spiritless account of the speech impediment suffered by the future George VI which seemed more to poke fun at the man's affliction than to seriously explore its nature and the struggle to overcome it. The Social Network, on the other hand, was a dynamic exegesis of the birth of one of the most influential media formats of the current age, featuring many of the best young actors of our time, written by one of the best screenwriters of our time, fascinatingly edited and with awesome music. It did win Oscars for these last three categories, but The King's Speech won for best picture because it had "art" written all over it. Its content was "highbrow," as opposed to the "lowbrow" subject matter of Facebook, and the single image that I take away from The King's Speech is the shot, repeated at least once, of Colin Firth sitting in front of a large wall of peeling paint evocative of an abstract painting ("art").
For every Shakespeare in Love, there are plenty of films like Million Dollar Baby, Braveheart and Ordinary People. I group these together because they illustrate the Academy's history of rewarding actors-turned-directors. There's also the tradition of the make-up prize. A good example in this category is The Departed, which was Martin Scorsese's make-up award after his two best films, Raging Bull and GoodFellas, were famously snubbed by the Academy. It should be noted that each of these films lost to films directed by actors: Raging Bull to Ordinary People, and GoodFellas to Dances with Wolves (Kevin Costner).
And then there's No Country for Old Men, which is not even the Coen brothers' sixth best movie. 1 Fargo. 2 Raising Arizona. 3 O Brother, Where Art Thou? 4 The Big Lebowski. 5 Miller's Crossing. 6 A Serious Man. Hell, 7 Blood Simple might be better, but, again, No Country just oozes "art," in this case by virtue of being completely incomprehensible. (One gets the idea that the Coen brothers were well aware of the fact that No Country was classic Oscar bait when they made it the first film produced and directed by both brothers, hence Academy Awards for each.)
I definitely wouldn't call Schindler's List a make-up award, but Steven Spielberg knew he had to make something high-minded in order to get an Oscar, no matter how great Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Raiders of the Lost Ark and E.T. were. (They did give him the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award in 1987, but that was a make-up award, and it ain't an Oscar.) Paul Newman's Oscar for The Color of Money was a make-up award, making up for too many performances to even count, Cool Hand Luke. Paul Newman was simply too good-looking to be recognized in his prime. For pretty people to win an Oscar they have to ugly themselves up. Charlize Theron knows it; Nicole Kidman nose it.
Two years ago the Academy could have given David Fincher a make-up award for Se7en, Fight Club and Zodiac. This year they may be inclined to recognize Ben Affleck and Argo in the actor-turned-director category. This wouldn't be such a crime, since Argo is a super movie. But they might try to kill two birds with one stone and go with Silver Linings Playbook, as a make-up prize for David O. Russell (Three Kings, I Heart Huckabees and The Fighter) and for "tackling" an important issue (cf. Million Dollar Baby, vis-a-vis euthanasia). But as with The King's Speech, Playbook doesn't really appear interested in thoughtfully examining its lead characters' malady (bipolar disorder). The movie is a mess, and Robert De Niro stands a good chance of getting some kind of "we still love you" award for supporting actor, even though the bookie he plays doesn't act like any bookie I've ever talked to.
It remains to be seen if and when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will slip into irrelevancy like so many academies in the past. For now the Oscars continue to exert an enormous influence on the culture in terms of what passes for "art" in the film world. And the loser is . . .
For every Shakespeare in Love, there are plenty of films like Million Dollar Baby, Braveheart and Ordinary People. I group these together because they illustrate the Academy's history of rewarding actors-turned-directors. There's also the tradition of the make-up prize. A good example in this category is The Departed, which was Martin Scorsese's make-up award after his two best films, Raging Bull and GoodFellas, were famously snubbed by the Academy. It should be noted that each of these films lost to films directed by actors: Raging Bull to Ordinary People, and GoodFellas to Dances with Wolves (Kevin Costner).
And then there's No Country for Old Men, which is not even the Coen brothers' sixth best movie. 1 Fargo. 2 Raising Arizona. 3 O Brother, Where Art Thou? 4 The Big Lebowski. 5 Miller's Crossing. 6 A Serious Man. Hell, 7 Blood Simple might be better, but, again, No Country just oozes "art," in this case by virtue of being completely incomprehensible. (One gets the idea that the Coen brothers were well aware of the fact that No Country was classic Oscar bait when they made it the first film produced and directed by both brothers, hence Academy Awards for each.)
I definitely wouldn't call Schindler's List a make-up award, but Steven Spielberg knew he had to make something high-minded in order to get an Oscar, no matter how great Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Raiders of the Lost Ark and E.T. were. (They did give him the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award in 1987, but that was a make-up award, and it ain't an Oscar.) Paul Newman's Oscar for The Color of Money was a make-up award, making up for too many performances to even count, Cool Hand Luke. Paul Newman was simply too good-looking to be recognized in his prime. For pretty people to win an Oscar they have to ugly themselves up. Charlize Theron knows it; Nicole Kidman nose it.
Two years ago the Academy could have given David Fincher a make-up award for Se7en, Fight Club and Zodiac. This year they may be inclined to recognize Ben Affleck and Argo in the actor-turned-director category. This wouldn't be such a crime, since Argo is a super movie. But they might try to kill two birds with one stone and go with Silver Linings Playbook, as a make-up prize for David O. Russell (Three Kings, I Heart Huckabees and The Fighter) and for "tackling" an important issue (cf. Million Dollar Baby, vis-a-vis euthanasia). But as with The King's Speech, Playbook doesn't really appear interested in thoughtfully examining its lead characters' malady (bipolar disorder). The movie is a mess, and Robert De Niro stands a good chance of getting some kind of "we still love you" award for supporting actor, even though the bookie he plays doesn't act like any bookie I've ever talked to.
It remains to be seen if and when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will slip into irrelevancy like so many academies in the past. For now the Oscars continue to exert an enormous influence on the culture in terms of what passes for "art" in the film world. And the loser is . . .
