Despite all
the breathless reporting of the nominations, and all the learned speculation
about who and what will win one of those gleaming art deco statuettes known as
Oscars, students of the cinema should understand that like most such contests
— from Miss Artichoke all the way up to the Nobel Prize — the Academy
Awards hardly constitutes a fair and judicious competition. After the various
nominations, the numerous minor preliminaries — Golden Globes, Silver Palms,
Tin Cups, Aluminum Plates, etc. — the Oscars tend to follow a certain, almost
entirely predictable course. Whatever breathless suspense and doubt the
ceremony seeks to create, the results mostly amount to a fait accompli,
French for “the fix is in.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย To begin with, most of the voting
members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences don’t even see the
films they judge. Rather, they depend, like the rest of us, on gossip, rumor,
and, of course, the perennial monumental hype (bribery, incidentally, is not
entirely unknown). Nobody, therefore, should feel embarrassed at having missed
any, some, or even all of the nominated films and performances.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The members also tend to follow
ancient Hollywood tradition, choosing nominees and winners according to some
odd sentimental ideal, some misguided notion of high intellectual art, and what
some critics inform them is a “serious motion picture.” The numerous
nominations accorded to a few movies should suggest the sort of locomotive
effect that usually takes over on Oscar night.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย If history provides any guide to
this year’s Oscars, then either Chicago or Gangs of New York will
win for best picture. On the one hand, the Academy loves a big, exuberant flick
of the sort that made Hollywood great; especially that currently rare bird, a
musical. But on the other, Scorsese’s static epic runs for three hours, so it
must be important (amazingly, it was also nominated in the editing category,
which should indicate all one needs to know about the judgment of the voters).
In a year of small pictures devoted to the drab underside of American life — The
Good Girl, Personal Velocity, One Hour Photo — the
best-made movie is probably that minor masterpiece, About Schmidt.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Jack Nicholson deserves the Oscar
for his remarkable performance in Schmidt, but will probably lose out to
Daniel Day-Lewis, whose sneering, snarling, low-rent Legree in Gangs entirely suited the stolid melodrama of that movie. Because she disguised her
pretty face with a fake nose and frowned fiercely throughout the precious
length of The Hours, Nicole Kidman will probably qualify as best
actress, though she never even approached the power and incandescence of Meryl
Streep in the same flick. Typically, Streep wasn’t even nominated for that
movie, though, ironically, she earned a supporting nomination for her generally
disappointing job in the truly terrible Adaptation. It would be entirely
in keeping with the best Hollywood traditions of idiocy if Streep were honored
for a mediocre performance in one film, while not even winning a mention for
attaining a rare level of excellence in another.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Paul Newman certainly should win as
best supporting actor for Road to Perdition, a dull, sorry affair that
he now and then illuminated with a precise, controlled, and dryly intelligent
performance. John C. Reilly, on the other hand, appeared in almost every movie
released last year, including Chicago, so he may win the award for sheer
frequency. With Chicago likely to overwhelm the evening, Catherine
Zeta-Jones may also be a good bet for best supporting actress; though, like
Streep, she completely overpowered the purported female lead, Renรจe Zellweger.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Another typical Academy touch involves
the choices for best adapted screenplay. The nomination of the Kaufman brothers
for Adaptation makes no sense whatsoever, since their script effectively
negates the actual book they allegedly adapted, choosing instead a sophomoric,
self-regarding exercise in tired film phoniness: a movie about making a movie.
The accomplishment of the adapters of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, on
the other hand, somehow didn’t even merit a mention from the nominators. At
least that magnificent spectacle caught the attention of voters in the
categories of art direction, sound editing, and visual effects.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย As for the award for best director,
possibly the most prestigious in this era of the auteur, surely Martin Scorsese
looks like the best bet. He’s been nominated for some outstanding films in the
past, like Raging Bull and GoodFellas, and has won just about
every other major directing prize. So, if the voters behave in accordance with
their shabby history, he should win to compensate for the injustices of the
past, and it seems absolutely perfect that the Academy honor an inferior work
in that process.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย As they did in 2001, the film flacks
once again exult in a year of unprecedented box office receipts. In addition,
2002, like the previous year, can also boast some reasonably good and
reasonably engaging movies, even if many never made the final cut. At least About
Schmidt and Frida received a mention in one category or another, and
a few deserving people appear on the usual lists.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Some things, however, never change
— any wan veteran of a thousand matinees can predict that the ceremony will
run even longer than Gangs of New York; that it will feature manifold
examples of gross disparity between the award and the accomplishment; and that
some of the enduring images of the evening will show a gleeful and entirely
undeserving recipient clutching a shiny figurine, thanking everyone in sight,
and generally behaving as if he or she had actually earned it.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Once again, “Hooray for Hollywood!”
And remember the appropriate translation of fait accompli.
This article appears in Mar 19-25, 2003.
