I was going to do an Oscar predictions column this year, but decided against it — it’s a tedious chore, and I’m not too good at it. But I will be live-tweeting the Oscars this Sunday at twitter.com/cdubbs727 if you want to follow along!
The Oscars don’t matter.
That’s what many critics and film snobs will tell you. They’re a popularity contest, an out-of-touch and self-congratulatory relic, the world’s glitziest employee-of-the-year awards.
And they’re right.
The Oscars, in the long run, don’t matter. They award popular, star-friendly fare. The films they honor tend to either be message movies or shiny, disposable odes to Hollywood magic, critically beloved one year and forgotten the next – when’s the last time you’ve watched “The Artist”? “Argo,” “Crash” and “The King’s Speech” are all perfectly fine – but are they really better than “Zero Dark Thirty,” “Munich” or “The Social Network” – the films they triumphed over?
Of course, ranking films is folly in itself – and I say this as a critic who releases an annual top 10 list and belongs to a critics society that votes on the year’s best films. Take this year’s Oscar nominees: how do you compare the sci-fi romance “Her” to the heart-wrenching “12 Years a Slave”? What defines “best”: a thrilling ride like “Gravity,” a glossy ensemble piece like “American Hustle” or a deadpan indie like “Nebraska”? Can you really compare the tender, funny “Philomena” to the wickedly scathing “Wolf of Wall Street”?
No, you can’t. Art isn’t a competition, and accolades aren’t the final word. Films that are awarded with gold one year are often seen in a different light down the road – go watch 1999’s “American Beauty;” it hasn’t aged well. And films that take time to digest may be passed over at award time only to be hailed as classics years later – decades from now, critics will still be talking about “Inside Llewyn Davis,” while my hunch is that “Dallas Buyers Club” will be largely forgotten.
So no, Best Picture is nothing in the end but a marketing tool. The Oscars are a television event, a time for ABC to garner big ratings by parading popular people in front of the camera. It’s a night where Hollywood gathers to talk about how important it is. The Oscars, in the end, don’t matter.
Except that they do.
When I was a teenager, it was the Oscars that piqued my interest in film. I always loved movies, but was limited by what played at local multiplexes and what my friends wanted to see. It was the Oscars that first opened my eyes to the idea of movies as art. I might have seen “Jurassic Park” six times, but the Oscars told me that “Schindler’s List” was the Spielberg film to pay attention to that year. I might not have been able to see their films for a few more years, but it was because of the Oscars that I knew that Martin Scorsese, Joel and Ethan Coen, and Quentin Tarantino were filmmakers I needed to know.
How many other movie lovers have had the Oscars as their cinematic gateway drug? How many people will tune in because they loved “Gravity” and be encouraged to give a film like “Her” a chance? What future film critics, perhaps in love with “American Hustle” or “Wolf of Wall Street,” will check out David O. Russell and Martin Scorsese’s earlier films? What viewer will see the joy that a particular film brings and be inspired to create their own masterpiece?
Yes, the Oscars are populist. And true film lovers know that just because a film is named Best Picture doesn’t make it so. But on Oscar night, the world is talking about movies. For one evening, the names of great filmmakers are mentioned in prime time. And while the best film may not take home the gold (or even be nominated), film buffs know that there are truly great films among the nominees – for one night, placed in front of a television audience that regularly prefers Kevin Hart to Spike Jonze. The Oscars might not matter, but for one night we all agree that movies do. And for film lovers, there are few things better.
Originally published in the Source Newspapers.
