Do the Oscars matter?
Ranking art is silly, but the awards still have merit.
Oscar nominations were announced Tuesday, and we should probably talk about them.
As we begin the countdown to March 12’s ceremony, I’m sure the debate about whether the Academy Awards matter will continue. There’s a certain segment of film fandom that obsesses over the awards race and spends most of the fall and winter handicapping winners, making their predictions and noting every campaign misstep. There’s another faction that rolls their eyes and pooh-poohs the concept of awarding art, sniffing that the truly good films (i.e. the films that meet their tastes, which are implicitly better than the unwashed masses’) are never really nominated, and this is just one big marketing event.
To be honest, I find both sides deeply annoying.
Is it silly to rank art? Sure. Most critics will acknowledge how ridiculous it is to compare works of art, and yet we still compile our lists of the year’s ten best, mainly because we like doing so. But we also do it because it allows us one last chance to champion films that we love, particularly the gems that perhaps didn’t get much attention throughout the year. I’m well aware that when I release my 2022 Top 10 list on Tuesday, people will read to see whether Top Gun: Maverick or Avatar: The Way of Water made it, because those movies have dominated the popular conversation. While they’re there, hopefully I can also remind them of Aftersun, Decision to Leave or Fire of Love (note: I’ve purposefully included a mix of films that made my top 10 and films that were left off so as not to spoil things).
It’s the same with Oscars. Yes, the Academy rarely awards the finest movies – it usually comes down to who ran the best campaign or which actor/actress poured the most emotion into their work. And yes, the show is often a tedious, overlong and self-congratulatory Employee of the Month ceremony. I understand the complaints about the Oscars, and I share some of them. As a way to determine what is truly the best film of the year, I think it’s a bit of bullshit. I recently heard someone (a critic or a director; I can’t quite remember) say that films shouldn’t be reviewed until 10 years after their release, so that you can have time to lose the expectations and let the film truly age into itself. I don’t know that I totally agree with that, but I do wonder if the best way to tell what is truly among the year’s best is to look back down the road. I know that most of my top 10 lists would be seriously re-edited if I went back and ranked the films according to how I view them through the lens of time (I love Juno, but what the hell was I thinking ranking it above No Country for Old Men AND There Will Be Blood in 2007?). What’s awarded each year is a combination of cultural context, hype and politicking, with quality only one among many other concerns.
But that doesn’t mean the Oscars don’t matter. As with top 10 lists, it’s a time to bring the conversation about cinema to a wider audience. People may tune in expecting to see Tom Cruise strut up to the podium. But as they do, they’ll also be exposed to films they may never have considered. Maybe they’ll laugh at a clip from Banshees of Inisherin and add it to their HBO Max queue; maybe they’ll be reminded how much they enjoy Steven Spielberg’s work and rethink their decision to ignore The Fabelmans.
And listen, I get that an Oscar is a nice-to-have for long-cemented icons like Spielberg and James Cameron, but it’s not going to make much of an impact on whether those individuals get to make more movies. But for directors like Daniels, whose quirky Everything Everywhere All at Once leads the pack of nominees? This is validation to keep being weird. Best Actor nominee Paul Mescal is already on the road to a career breakout – he’s going to be the lead in Gladiator 2 – but his nomination means more attention for Aftersun, giving a residual bump to Charlotte Wells for her directorial debut. For many of the craft winners, this is their one chance to be recognized in front of a global audience, and many of the night’s highlights traditionally come from these individuals’ emotional, overjoyed speeches. As a way to establish a canon of great cinema, the Oscars don’t really work, but as a celebration of movies and an opportunity to establish careers, it’s essential.
Plus, for every eye-rolling political speech or predictable winner, the Oscars can still thrill and surprise. Sometimes, of course, it’s not a good one; last year’s altercation with Will Smith and Chris Rock was all that anyone could talk about after the ceremony. But other times, there are delights. I’m sure the Academy would like to forget it very recently announced the wrong Best Picture winner, but it made for great television – and was a nearly cinematic underdog story itself, when it was revealed the winner wasn’t the highly favored La La Land but the much better Moonlight. I don’t think I’ve ever been as ecstatic about a Best Picture win as when Parasite was called out. And while last year’s show was a return to the staid, formulaic approach (complete with a best picture win for one of the blandest nominees in years), there was a looseness and palpable energy to the first pandemic-era ceremony two years ago, produced by Steven Soderbergh.
So, yeah. The Oscars don’t matter; except in the areas where they do. And the show is boring; except when it isn’t. And I’m sure I’ll find things to complain about this year; but I’m still going to watch.
Here are some brief thoughts about the nominees:
When I saw Everything Everywhere All at Once for the first time in May, I remember thinking that it was an enjoyable, brilliant little movie that would be too strange for mainstream audiences and awards consideration. I’m happy to be wrong on both counts. The film was one of last year’s surprise box office successes, and it leads the nominations with 11 – including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor, and two Best Supporting Actress noms.
It was, perhaps, inevitable that Top Gun: Maverick would be a best picture nominee. It “saved cinema,” even if it’s actually only the year’s second-highest grosser. While I think the sequel’s a tad overpraised, I don’t mind its inclusion. Far worse films have been picture nominees (and winners). People love Top Gun 2; I may not love it quite as much as them, but I don’t dislike it. It’s a fun movie that does what it promises on the box. But a best adapted screenplay nomination is laughable for a movie in which I assume the script read different variations of “Jet goes fast; Tom Cruise smiles.”
I haven’t seen all the Best Picture nominees – I still need to get around to Elvis, Triangle of Sadness and All Quiet on the Western Front. But of the ones I’ve seen, it’s a really good collection. There’s not a bad film in the bunch, and several great ones have been recognized.
A bit surprised RRR didn’t make the cut; I think I assumed it would get the slot that went to Triangle of Sadness. India didn’t submit it as their pick for best international feature, so one of the year’s biggest global sensations had to settle for just one nomination. But that means we will very likely get a performance of “Naatu Naatu” at the ceremony, and I’m here for that.
Don’t understand how Decision to Leave didn’t get a nomination for best international feature. And it should have seen a nomination for best editing and/or cinematography.
A really solid list of animation nominees this year, and a rare one in which a Pixar movie is probably the weakest contender (which is not a statement of quality; I like Turning Red quite a bit). Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio is likely the front-runner, although Marcel the Shell with Shoes On and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish are both great (Marcel is the best of the films, period, but it’s only partly animated). I would have loved to see a nomination for Richard Linklater’s Apollo 10 ½ here and possibly Henry Selick’s Wendell and Wild, but this is a good list.
I’m sure I’ll talk more about the acting nominees closer to the ceremony. But I just want to say how much joy I’ve gotten from watching Ke Huy Quan pick up every award this season. You can tell the difference between true joy and publicist-mandated appreciation, and Quan’s excitement at seeing his career revived so dramatically is contagious. There’s a childlike sincerity to his reactions that is really moving, and it helps that he’s just really, really good in the movie.
New reviews
A busy week for reviews over at CinemaNerdz. Here’s what’s up; click the titles to link to the reviews.
You People: I really wish I liked this one more. I’m always rooting for Eddie Murphy and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and I was a fan of director Kenya Barris’ sitcom Black-ish. But oof; this one’s a mess. (Now streaming on Netflix).
Living: Ikiru is an all-time classic; when Perry and I did our Sight and Sound episode, I considered it for my list of the 10 best films ever made. A remake seems foolish. And while Living never quite lives up to Akira Kurosawa’s classic, it has its own quiet power, and perhaps the best performance Bill Nighy has ever given. (Now in theaters).
Women Talking: Sarah Polley’s three previous films as director all landed on my top 10 lists of their respective years (in 2012, Take This Waltz was my #1 pick). This might be a spoiler for next week, but Women Talking is the fourth film to completely blow me away. (Now in theaters).
Don’t forget – subscribe and come back Tuesday, Jan. 31, for my list of the best films of 2022!