As if you couldn't tell, I haven't had time to write in a while. Okay, that's not true - I haven't had time to write recreationally. I was in a pretty good rhythm there for a while, but this current school semester has really taken the wind out of my sails and pulled me back down to Earth (not to mix metaphors). So this is just a long overdue announcement that posts here will be much more infrequent until things slow down a bit. I only have three classes (and an online course - but it hardly counts), and even dropped my work hours to part-time for the first time since I was sixteen, but my energy isn't what it used to be. I have class three days a week, and I am absolutely exhausted. Something had to give - and this blog is it.
I'll still post things every once in a while to try and throw a little content out there for you, but we're talking maybe once a month.
It's all about priorities - I'm trying to do this right. See you when I see you!
23 February 2012
15 February 2012
When did Oscar become Irrelevant?
Before anyone slams me on this minor logical fallacy, let me concede that Yes, Indeed, You're Right that the Oscars are still the only awards show worth a damn. I readily admit it. I mean, when's the last time anyone bought a CD solely because it won a Grammy? Or watched a TV show because it won an Emmy?
That being said, however, I think anyone who pays any attention at all to these sorts of things would readily admit that the past few decades have seen a sharp decline in the value of Oscar. Notice the key words: sharp decline. Because really, when you get down to it, the relevancy of winning an Academy Award (or even being nominated) has always been relative to the quality of the film itself (obviously) but also (more importantly) to those it was going up against. For example, it doesn't mean much to say that a mediocre film like Slumdog Millionaire wins Best Picture when you consider it went up against other mediocre films; on the other hand, when you say The English Patient won over Fargo, or Forrest Gump won over Pulp Fiction, then you're actually saying something - because the losers are clearly more deserving than the winners.
That's all fine and well, you're saying, but who really cares? Exactly! That's my whole point - Oscar used to mean something, and now no one really cares. Producers and money men in Hollywood are trying to make Oscar matter again, but therein lies the problem: Oscar has lost traction with cinephiles because they're too quick to placate general audience sensibilities (Titanic is an easy example - why did it win, if not for the billion dollars it made?). On the other hand, though, audiences get irritated when they can't stand the nominees, or don't even know what the nominees are. So I can understand why pandering, maudlin films like Titanic, or on the opposite extreme (ie, a movie which uses a lot of the same tactics but doesn't make much money and is still considered "edgy" or "indie") Slumdog Millionaire are nominated. I can stomach that. But I can't stand it when movies like that win, no matter how popular they may be. And this has only worsened now that there are ten nominees. Now any movie has a chance.
So here are some suggestions.
Basically, if you really wanted to look to a moment in history and say, That's it! That's when Oscar started whoring itself to the masses!, then I think the most obvious choice is 1980 - when Ordinary People won over Raging Bull. Ordinary People is a fine film in its own right, and the Academy had made questionable decisions before, but that was the first year in which the unequivocally better film lost simply because it was too edgy, too different, too dark... basically because it was too anti-audience. Since 1980, it has been the exception more than the rule for the best film to win Best Picture; since Ordinary People, it's more often the audience favorite than the critical favorite - though if you can find a film which audiences love and critics are okay with (ie, Gladiator, Lord of the Rings, The Departed, etc), then it's hardly even a contest.
The first step, then, is to take this award back from the public. The whole idea of the Oscars is to salute the best of the industry. Innovators, originators - these should be the people getting accolades. The Oscars, quite simply, need to be more selective. I'm not saying impose a salary cap, or neglect a film on the grounds that it's too successful - but we need standards here. High standards. At its best, cinema is a marriage of art and commerce - something which unites us and we can all "get" or relate to in some way, but which also challenges us. Like a great novel.
How to do this? What's Step One-A? Go back to five nominees. Ten nominations is a stupid idea - that's why it was abandoned decades ago; it needs to be abandoned again. Maybe even go to three or something. The whole idea here is to be more selective - so that what you're nominating really represents that paragon of cinema for that particular year. Actually - here's a decent idea - if you absolutely insist on ten nominees, then combine all Best Picture categories. Do we really need four "best film" categories (to say nothing of the short films)? Foreign, Animated, Documentary, put it all under one banner - Best Picture. I realize the Academy is unfairly biased toward studio-financed, live-action fiction (we'll deal with that below), but like I said - this is a much better alternative if you insist on ten nominees.
Step Two - revamp the membership. You know the term "Oscar bait"? Yeah, that's a pretty recent coinage. The whole idea is that major studios have at least one project each year that they release at the end of the year because it's their "prestige" film. For example, DreamWorks released Transformers: Dark of the Moon in the summer because its the sort of tentpole dreck that will bring in tons of money, but waited until December for War Horse, the Oscar hopeful. Anyway, the whole meaning of "Oscar bait" is that you essentially trick Academy members by exploiting their sensibilities... and you do that by making a stereotypical Oscar film - ie, one that has strong production value, talented technicians, and a fairly warm/simplistic story and tone (preferably one with humanist leanings), albeit one most likely fraught with difficulty or peril. The structure of virtually every Oscar movie is the same - and they all tend to follow that classic screenplay structure they teach in intro writing classes.
So how do you fix this? After all, it's not like there's anything wrong with a formula - it's the execution and the quality that matter most. Raiders of the Lost Ark, for instance, has a very simple and familiar structure, but it's still a great film. As Roger Ebert says, It's not what a movie is about, but how it is about it. And you can't disqualify a film simply because it follows a familiar structure; and conversely, I wouldn't rush out to give movies like The Tree of Life or Enter the Void Oscars simply because they're extended experiments... The key is balance. You want to encourage innovation - and the best way to do that is to get some new blood into these powerful positions. The Academy doesn't disclose the names of its members, but they do disclose their boards of "governors" (ie, the people in charge) - and all of those governors are people who've been doing this for a long time. I think a Sight and Sound model is more appropriate: essentially, expand membership to include professional film critics. After all, critics see more movies than anybody, and they tend to be immune to Oscar bait. Not all the time, but they have a much better sense when it comes to that particular odor. But Jacob, you say, the whole point of the Academy Awards is that the industry is rewarding itself - how can critics judge categories like Art Direction or Makeup when they have no experience in that field? Fair enough - if it bothers you that much, only allow them in on the "major" categories (ie, Picture/Director/Writing/Acting/etc); and if that still bugs you, just let them focus on Picture.
Step Three - get off the high horse and nominate the best, no matter what. This last one seems contradictory... after all, I've been lamenting that the Academy should be more selective and high-brow in its selection process, yet here I am preaching acceptance of everything. A simple difference: there's selectivity, and then there's pretense. I don't know who said it (I believe it was Jim Emerson), but one critic summed the Oscars up as "Not representing 'The Best,' but simply 'The Most'" - which I think sums everything up perfectly. That's the whole problem. This is especially true in the Acting categories - generally, the nominated actors are indeed very, very good, and they do turn in some great performances - but they're rarely the best, simply the most. The most emotional, the most intense - you rarely see quiet/understated performances. Almost never.
The simplest way around this would be to implement Step Three from above, but the idea is basically that movies of all genres are worthy. Did you know Raiders of the Lost Ark was nominated for Best Picture? Same for Jaws. When's the last time a straight genre picture (horror/thriller/action) was nominated? When was the last time a straight comedy was nominated? Is "high drama" the only thing worthy of an award? I don't think so. We need to get back to that sort of thinking.
My pet example is The Big Lebowski. Admittedly, not a great movie (great moments - but ultimately goes on too long), but the cast is perfect. Seriously, perfect. Jeff Bridges gives arguably the greatest lead performance ever in The Big Lebowski, but there's no chance in hell he'd be nominated for an Oscar. Are you kidding - a foul-mouthed stoner who cares only about bowling and his rug? There's no way that would be nominated - and that's the problem! Bridges created a character - a flesh-and-blood/three-dimensional/complicated and interesting character - and he never misses a beat. Truly an award-worthy performance. Argue it if you want, but just go back and watch it - every facial expression, every body movement, every tonal inflection - it's perfect. Much better than Crazy Heart, a typical "I messed my life up but I'll turn it around" movie if I've ever seen one.
So that's it. I realize most probably stopped reading a while ago - in a blog of fairly niche topics, this is perhaps the most narrow - but like I said way back at the beginning: I love movies, and I want them to mean something. If the very best don't mean anything, then we're in trouble.
That being said, however, I think anyone who pays any attention at all to these sorts of things would readily admit that the past few decades have seen a sharp decline in the value of Oscar. Notice the key words: sharp decline. Because really, when you get down to it, the relevancy of winning an Academy Award (or even being nominated) has always been relative to the quality of the film itself (obviously) but also (more importantly) to those it was going up against. For example, it doesn't mean much to say that a mediocre film like Slumdog Millionaire wins Best Picture when you consider it went up against other mediocre films; on the other hand, when you say The English Patient won over Fargo, or Forrest Gump won over Pulp Fiction, then you're actually saying something - because the losers are clearly more deserving than the winners.
That's all fine and well, you're saying, but who really cares? Exactly! That's my whole point - Oscar used to mean something, and now no one really cares. Producers and money men in Hollywood are trying to make Oscar matter again, but therein lies the problem: Oscar has lost traction with cinephiles because they're too quick to placate general audience sensibilities (Titanic is an easy example - why did it win, if not for the billion dollars it made?). On the other hand, though, audiences get irritated when they can't stand the nominees, or don't even know what the nominees are. So I can understand why pandering, maudlin films like Titanic, or on the opposite extreme (ie, a movie which uses a lot of the same tactics but doesn't make much money and is still considered "edgy" or "indie") Slumdog Millionaire are nominated. I can stomach that. But I can't stand it when movies like that win, no matter how popular they may be. And this has only worsened now that there are ten nominees. Now any movie has a chance.
So here are some suggestions.
Basically, if you really wanted to look to a moment in history and say, That's it! That's when Oscar started whoring itself to the masses!, then I think the most obvious choice is 1980 - when Ordinary People won over Raging Bull. Ordinary People is a fine film in its own right, and the Academy had made questionable decisions before, but that was the first year in which the unequivocally better film lost simply because it was too edgy, too different, too dark... basically because it was too anti-audience. Since 1980, it has been the exception more than the rule for the best film to win Best Picture; since Ordinary People, it's more often the audience favorite than the critical favorite - though if you can find a film which audiences love and critics are okay with (ie, Gladiator, Lord of the Rings, The Departed, etc), then it's hardly even a contest.
The first step, then, is to take this award back from the public. The whole idea of the Oscars is to salute the best of the industry. Innovators, originators - these should be the people getting accolades. The Oscars, quite simply, need to be more selective. I'm not saying impose a salary cap, or neglect a film on the grounds that it's too successful - but we need standards here. High standards. At its best, cinema is a marriage of art and commerce - something which unites us and we can all "get" or relate to in some way, but which also challenges us. Like a great novel.
How to do this? What's Step One-A? Go back to five nominees. Ten nominations is a stupid idea - that's why it was abandoned decades ago; it needs to be abandoned again. Maybe even go to three or something. The whole idea here is to be more selective - so that what you're nominating really represents that paragon of cinema for that particular year. Actually - here's a decent idea - if you absolutely insist on ten nominees, then combine all Best Picture categories. Do we really need four "best film" categories (to say nothing of the short films)? Foreign, Animated, Documentary, put it all under one banner - Best Picture. I realize the Academy is unfairly biased toward studio-financed, live-action fiction (we'll deal with that below), but like I said - this is a much better alternative if you insist on ten nominees.
Step Two - revamp the membership. You know the term "Oscar bait"? Yeah, that's a pretty recent coinage. The whole idea is that major studios have at least one project each year that they release at the end of the year because it's their "prestige" film. For example, DreamWorks released Transformers: Dark of the Moon in the summer because its the sort of tentpole dreck that will bring in tons of money, but waited until December for War Horse, the Oscar hopeful. Anyway, the whole meaning of "Oscar bait" is that you essentially trick Academy members by exploiting their sensibilities... and you do that by making a stereotypical Oscar film - ie, one that has strong production value, talented technicians, and a fairly warm/simplistic story and tone (preferably one with humanist leanings), albeit one most likely fraught with difficulty or peril. The structure of virtually every Oscar movie is the same - and they all tend to follow that classic screenplay structure they teach in intro writing classes.
So how do you fix this? After all, it's not like there's anything wrong with a formula - it's the execution and the quality that matter most. Raiders of the Lost Ark, for instance, has a very simple and familiar structure, but it's still a great film. As Roger Ebert says, It's not what a movie is about, but how it is about it. And you can't disqualify a film simply because it follows a familiar structure; and conversely, I wouldn't rush out to give movies like The Tree of Life or Enter the Void Oscars simply because they're extended experiments... The key is balance. You want to encourage innovation - and the best way to do that is to get some new blood into these powerful positions. The Academy doesn't disclose the names of its members, but they do disclose their boards of "governors" (ie, the people in charge) - and all of those governors are people who've been doing this for a long time. I think a Sight and Sound model is more appropriate: essentially, expand membership to include professional film critics. After all, critics see more movies than anybody, and they tend to be immune to Oscar bait. Not all the time, but they have a much better sense when it comes to that particular odor. But Jacob, you say, the whole point of the Academy Awards is that the industry is rewarding itself - how can critics judge categories like Art Direction or Makeup when they have no experience in that field? Fair enough - if it bothers you that much, only allow them in on the "major" categories (ie, Picture/Director/Writing/Acting/etc); and if that still bugs you, just let them focus on Picture.
Step Three - get off the high horse and nominate the best, no matter what. This last one seems contradictory... after all, I've been lamenting that the Academy should be more selective and high-brow in its selection process, yet here I am preaching acceptance of everything. A simple difference: there's selectivity, and then there's pretense. I don't know who said it (I believe it was Jim Emerson), but one critic summed the Oscars up as "Not representing 'The Best,' but simply 'The Most'" - which I think sums everything up perfectly. That's the whole problem. This is especially true in the Acting categories - generally, the nominated actors are indeed very, very good, and they do turn in some great performances - but they're rarely the best, simply the most. The most emotional, the most intense - you rarely see quiet/understated performances. Almost never.
The simplest way around this would be to implement Step Three from above, but the idea is basically that movies of all genres are worthy. Did you know Raiders of the Lost Ark was nominated for Best Picture? Same for Jaws. When's the last time a straight genre picture (horror/thriller/action) was nominated? When was the last time a straight comedy was nominated? Is "high drama" the only thing worthy of an award? I don't think so. We need to get back to that sort of thinking.
My pet example is The Big Lebowski. Admittedly, not a great movie (great moments - but ultimately goes on too long), but the cast is perfect. Seriously, perfect. Jeff Bridges gives arguably the greatest lead performance ever in The Big Lebowski, but there's no chance in hell he'd be nominated for an Oscar. Are you kidding - a foul-mouthed stoner who cares only about bowling and his rug? There's no way that would be nominated - and that's the problem! Bridges created a character - a flesh-and-blood/three-dimensional/complicated and interesting character - and he never misses a beat. Truly an award-worthy performance. Argue it if you want, but just go back and watch it - every facial expression, every body movement, every tonal inflection - it's perfect. Much better than Crazy Heart, a typical "I messed my life up but I'll turn it around" movie if I've ever seen one.
So that's it. I realize most probably stopped reading a while ago - in a blog of fairly niche topics, this is perhaps the most narrow - but like I said way back at the beginning: I love movies, and I want them to mean something. If the very best don't mean anything, then we're in trouble.
04 February 2012
Cinematic Smackdown: Four More
(dir. Brad Bird)
Sometimes, it's nice to be reminded of the things Hollywood does well. You won't see Ghost Protocol nominated for any Oscars, and no one's going to look back years from now and talk about what an over-/underrated movie it was. The budget is huge, and you can tell. The actors are too busy running around to even think about depth. The script is complicated to the point of absurdity... But there's something to be said for a movie that simply wants to entertain and excite you, and is good enough to actually do it. In short: if you're looking for a fun, fast-paced, exciting action movie, Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol is one of the best Hollywood has put out in a long, long time.
No need to relate the story or plot details - really, the plot is just for show anyway. The point of the movie is to go from setpiece to setpiece, making you laugh and grip the edge of your seat along the way. Tom Cruise returns yet again as Ethan Hunt, and while he does nice, convincing work here, I think it may be time for him to retire the role. His first foray into the world of Mission: Impossible was back in 1996, when he was 34. Cruise is now fifty and has portrayed the character in three separate decades... He looks good for his age, but a 50-year-old doesn't need to be hanging from the highest building in the world. If this is his final turn in the role, you could do a lot worse in terms of swan songs.
(dir. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu)
A conundrum. The second half of Biutiful is really quite special: understated, simple, quiet, effective... the first half, though, is slow, cumbersome, and frankly unnecessary. Almost nothing from the first half of the movie has any relevance, other than introducing primary characters and characteristics. And that's really a shame - so much talent is behind this movie, but the story just lacks focus.
The film does give Javier Bardem ample opportunity to show his acting chops, which he excels at as usual, but his character feels undefined. More like a shadow than a person. He is haunted by the past, even by his present, but we have little idea why. He is involved in a number of shady business prospects, and again we're not really sure why. The film suggests that this is his lot in life - this is the best he can do - but we instinctively think otherwise. Some strong moments, but ultimately disappointing.
(dir. Scott Cooper)
Another movie filled with strong moments, but ultimately fails to amount to anything larger.
The ultimate problem is that the story just feels so familiar. About the only interesting thing about this biopic is that it's fictional, but it hits the same notes as any other musician story: a former star has fallen on hard times, has substance abuse problems, and eventually turns his life around and experiences a resurgence in popularity to accompany his newfound serenity. Jeff Bridges is excellent as always, and Maggie Gylenhaal does admirable work as well, but ultimately it comes down to the script: we've seen this all before. Nothing new, and nothing very interesting.
Cinema Paradiso - 3.5/5(dir. Giuseppe Tornatore)
At times, Cinema Paradiso is one of the best movies ever made. At others, it verges on maudlin manipulation.
When the film focuses on little Toto and his budding relationship with a local projectionist and the movies he watches, it's nothing short of amazing. And wisely, this is the bulk of the film. The actors are perfectly cast, and the tone perfectly straddles the line between nostalgia and sentimentality. The two are such a joy to watch, you wish the movie would just abandon its storyline and focus on them...
As he must, though, Toto grows up, and the movie theater he loves closes down. It is during these scenes that I lose interest. They're just too overstated. They lack the magic and vitality of earlier sequences. Lovingly photographed by Blasco Giurato and beautifully scored by the inimitable Ennio Morricone, the film remains watchable and mostly enjoyable during these "grown-up" scenes, they just ultimately feel cloying and disingenuous.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)