Sometimes, it seems as if the Oscars don't like themselves very much.
Consider the current pre-Oscar Night controversy: Last month, the academy announced that awards in eight of the academy's 23 categories would be awarded before the actual telecast, and would be taped and edited into the program, with clips of the acceptance speeches folded into the live broadcast. In other words, nominees in those categories — documentary short, animated short, live action short, film editing, makeup/hairstyling, production design, sound, original score — were told fairly clearly that they were second-class citizens.
To paraphrase a line from a great movie: fasten your seat belts, Oscar watchers; this could be a bumpy night.
Sure, there's a pre-Oscar controversy every year. But this one's an odd one, because the call's coming from inside the house, as it were. (I seem to be simmering with movie quotes today.) Academy president David Rubin wrote, in a letter to the membership explaining the change, that it was important to "prioritize the television audience to increase viewer engagement and keep the show vital, kinetic, and relevant," and noted that feedback had been solicited from "our film community, our network partner, and all those who love the Oscars."
I'm quite willing to believe that ABC, the longtime airer of the show, pushed to trim the broadcast's running time. Typically at least three hours long, the Oscars are famous for being a rather long sit — most notably in 2002, when the broadcast went on for four hours and 23 minutes. (I'm not convinced that 2002 ceremony isn't still going on, right now.) But it's hard to imagine that members of the "film community" might agree to this two-tier approach. Many prominent names have spoken out in recent weeks opposing the plan, including nominee Steven Spielberg, and a petition is circulating that includes the signatures of dozens of Oscar winners. But the academy, as of press time, wasn't budging.
This just seems so strange to me. As someone who loves movies, I'm fascinated by the people who make them; not just the movie stars and the famous directors, but the people who apply the makeup, who dress the sets, who edit a mass of footage into an artful whole. By shunting these talented but nonfamous people to the side — many of whom often give the evening's most heartfelt speeches — the academy makes more room for, according to Rubin, "comedy, musical numbers, film clip packages and movie tributes." (Sigh. Do not get me started on Oscar-night "comedy." It's never funny. Ever.)
And in doing so, who are the viewers that ABC and the academy is trying to attract? Those same ones that we keep hearing about — that don't watch the Oscars because they haven't seen the nominated movies? I suspect they won't tune in to watch comedy and film clips. The same ones the academy is courting with a new innovation this year, the Oscar Fan Favorite, voted for via hashtag on Twitter? Hmm, what could possibly go wrong? (Voting is now closed, but the leaders as of a few weeks ago, reportedly, are the Zack Snyder zombie movie "Army of the Dead" and the new "Cinderella" starring Camila Cabello.) I hate to burst the academy's bubble, but people who don't watch the Oscars ... are not going to watch the Oscars.
It's true that the Oscars have long struggled with a perception that nominated movies aren't popular, and indeed this year there's zero overlap between the academy's 10 best picture nominees and the year's top 10 in terms of box office. The highest earner among the Oscars' 10, "Dune," ranked 13th for the year, with around $108 million; no other best picture nominee made anywhere near that. "West Side Story" was the next highest, at just $38 million; "Drive My Car" made just over $2 million, and three of the 10 — "CODA," "Don't Look Up," and "The Power of the Dog" — had no box-office number at all, because they opened on streaming services.
You could argue that the makers of "Spider-Man: No Way Home," 2021's biggest box-office hit with some $1.8 billion worldwide (imagine how much it might have made without the omicron surge), really don't need the cherry on top of the very big sundae that an Oscar would be. (To paraphrase Don Draper in "Mad Men": That's what the money's for.) Curious, though, that the visual effects Oscar — the only one that "Spider-Man: No Way Home" was nominated for — isn't among those on the cutting block.
The Oscars often don't get it right, and all of us who've watched the show for years have our own lists of snubs and omissions and just plain mistakes; that's part of the fun. But what's also part of it is seeing what the academy's nearly 10,000 members — a roster that has in recent years become larger and more inclusive — have chosen, in categories large and small, and meeting that person at the podium just for a minute or two. That's a pleasure, even if you haven't seen or even heard of the short film that they made.
And if letting those people speak makes the night overlong ... so be it. Those of us watching at home will still watch; we've just got more time to get snacks and pour wine. Those not watching are not watching. It's worth noting, perhaps, that although Oscars television viewership has shrunk dramatically in recent years, it's still the highest of all the televised award shows. Can't we just let the Oscars be the Oscars? Can the Oscars just learn to love themselves?
Denis Villeneuve, director of the 10-times-nominated "Dune," put it nicely in an interview with Deadline. "I think that the Oscars are going through an identity crisis," he said. "I don't think there's anything wrong with the Academy Awards. I think everybody is expecting that it will be a long show. Myself, I love it ... There's always bursts of genius. And beautiful moments. Sometimes it's boring ... Every single edition is always its own. It's part of the show."
As always, I'll be watching on Oscar night — and hoping the show's beautiful moments shine through, somehow.
