"Best Picture"?!! 5 Times The Academy Got It Wrong

The annual spectacle in which Hollywood notoriously celebrates itself (while occasionally giving kudos to standout independent fare so as to seem too self effacing), The Oscars will be upon us in a few short weeks.  Aside from a few exceptions (most notable being the 1992 ceremony in which "The Silence Of The Lambs" swept the big 5 (Best Picture, Director, Screenplay, and Actor & Actress), the Academy is notorious for overlooking genre films and performances in favor of maudlin dramas overwrought with heavy handed messages.  Not that some of these films aren't great. I for one squeed with glee when, for the first time in my entire life, my favorite film of the year, "The Shape Of Water" claimed the trophy for Best Picture last year.

That said, over the next few weeks leading up to the announcement of the nominations and the eventual telecast itself, I'll be taking a look at instances in which a film or performance were unjustly snubbed by the academy.  

In this entry, I'll be looking at 5 times the Academy flat out picked the wrong film for Best Picture.  While most of these choices made sense initially, through the lens of time we have seen certain films stand out as more enduring than the one initially deemed to be superior.  

1964: 

"My Fair Lady" Beats "Dr. Strangelove..."

There is perhaps no other decade in film that more exemplifies the schmaltz, gushy triteness of the film industry at it's most banal and artificial (though the 80's with it's overindulgence on wanna be blockbusters trying to vainly recapture the glory initiated by Star Wars and the like comes the closest) than the sixties.  There is no more perfect illustration of this notion than the fact that no less than four grand Hollywood musicals were awarded the gold statue in this decade (West Side Story, The Sound Of Music, and Oliver! also got the nod).  To be fair, there are also a pair of grittier, more progressive films that were recognized (In The Heat Of The Night and Midnight Cowboy--imagine, if you can, that a film originally given the dreaded "X" rating won the academy award in 1969.)  

The tale of Best Picture in the 1960s is reflective of the divergent wedge being driven through the heart of the culture: the faction that wanted to pretend that everything was as it was always would be, and were so happy that they were going to sing about it,  and the more socially conscious sector that wanted the ills of society to be met head on, transgressed, and banished henceforth.  

The division in the current of mainstream culture that was beginning to emerge at this time is no better epitomized than when comparing "My Fair Lady" and "Dr. Strangelove...or how I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb".  Both films were released in the wake of the most tumultuous period that the country had experienced since the end of World War II, beginning October 1962 with the Cuban Missile Crisis and ending 13 months later with the assassination of President Kennedy, a pair of piercing pinpricks that popped the protective bubble of safe and sanitized domesticity that the 50s have come to be romanticized for in the following decades. 

Certainly, George Cukor's film is a treasure, but its tale (later co-opted and updated in "Trading Places") of a phonetics professor who tries to transform a commoner (Audrey Hepburn) into an accepted member of high society, while skillfully executed and deservedly one of the most beloved musicals of all time, falls short when compared to "Strangelove", which could be considered not only the greatest of Kubrick's films, but also the finest performance of the virtuoso career of Peter Sellers, as well as the greatest example of satire ever put to film.   

1977: 

"Annie Hall" Beats "Star Wars" 

                                             


























One might chalk this up to all things Woody Allen seemingly falling out of favor as time goes on. Admittedly, especially in the "Me Too" era, the alleged grooming over your teen aged step-daughter into your eventual lover and then bride wouldn't do much for anyone's artistic legacy.  It does make George Lucas' embrace of CGI and Rastafarian humanoid lizards seem rather innocuous in comparison.  All controversy aside, those with the ability to separate the artist from the art simply cannot deny Woody Allen's influence on comedy in the twentieth century.  His tireless deluge of films from the early seventies through to today can be seen as nothing less than prodigious.  

As influential as Allen and "Annie Hall" is, it's hard to argue that for the past forty years any film has been more influential,  especially in the manner in which films are produced and marketed than the original "Star Wars".  For better or worse, after the release of George Lucas' seminal space opera fantasy, studio executives, who had initially doubted the low-budget workmanlike film's ability to appeal to a wide audience, were left with stars (or perhaps more appropriately, dollar signs) in their eyes.  

Another thing that "Star Wars" had going for it that "Annie Hall" does not was mass appeal.  While Allen's film essentially appealed to post-hippie era intellectual thirty somethings (no doubt the late '70s version of hipsters, all the way down to the title character's affinity for ironic fashion choices), the appeal of "Star Wars" crossed most boundaries of age, gender and income.   

Legendary sci-fi auteur James Cameron has even felt compelled to chime in on the debate, predictably landing on the side of Skywalker and friends in this article for Wired.  In the article he lambasted the Academy for engendering the notion that “science-fiction is not humanistic enough, that it’s not about real people.”  Certainly, while the notion of entering a bar filled with thirty different varieties of humanoid aliens, or travelling from one galaxy to another in the time it takes most of us to drive to our local gas station might seem far fetched, there is nothing more universal than Luke's conflicting need to follow his own destiny while wanting to still do good by the Uncle that adopted him, or Princess Leia's fierce resistance to the encroach of the Empire, no matter the cost to herself.  

Granted, when comparing these two films, it's really apples and oranges. Once could definitely state with great temerity that today's theaters could use a few more films in the spirit of "Annie Hall" and a few less in the mold of "Star Wars".  That said, I believe that the Academy should've looked past Allen's status as the auteur darling du jour, as he was at the time, and honored "Star Wars" as the truly landmark, industry altering masterpiece that it was and will always be. 

1980: 

"Ordinary People" Beats "Raging Bull" 

                   

When it came along, "Ordinary People" was the perfect film for it's time, at the end of the seventies: a melodrama about a family mired in malaise that was emblematic of an American culture in a state of spiritual fatigue after a tumultuous decade of social and political unrest.  Even Mary Tyler Moore, who famously "turned the world on with her smile" in her ultra popular sitcom is cast against type as an emotionally cold woman who's son's accidental has laid bare all of her emotional shortcomings for her husband and son remaining son to behold, eventually tearing the family apart.  Though very prescient in 1980, the film's focus on Conrad's (Timothy Hutton) psychiatric treatment seems passe today when our culture has become self aware and self analyzing nearly to the point of puerility.

"Raging Bull", while also depicting a tale of the dark side of the American Dream, does it in a style that while acclaimed by critics and film buffs but left mainstream audiences cold and distant, barely eking by with  box office receipts ample enough to surpass it's 18 million budget.  After being convinced to kick his cocaine addiction by friend and frequent collaborator Robert DeNiro (who won Best Actor for his role his as champion boxer turned burnout Jake LaMotta), and DeNiro convinced that he'd never make another film due to the damage he'd done to his reputation in tinsel town, poured his heart and soul into the broody, extremely violent biopic.  

The Academy clearly chose the more accessible film that closely reflected the state of the culture at the time.  However, by the end of the decade, "Raging Bull" was lauded in numerous top ten lists as the greatest film of the 1980s, while "Ordinary People" has seemed to fall into the cultural ether.  Whether it's the black and white photography or the archetypal nature of the story it tells, but "Raging Bull" could stand the test of time no matter and fit in perfectly had it been made in the forties or been released this year. 

1994: 

"Forrest Gump" Beats "Pulp Fiction" 

To me, this is the might be the most glaring oversight in the history of the Academy Awards.  Adding to the travesty is the fact that "The Shawshank Redemption" a masterpiece in its own right, was also nominated this same year.  While I believe that "Pulp Fiction" is superior to the Stephen King adapation, choosing that over "Forrest Gump" would've been a far less erroneous faux pas.  

"Pulp Fiction" was an absolutely revelatory film at the time of it's release.  Not only did it launch it's writer/director Quentin Tarantino into the stratosphere for good as the film not only satisfied audiences critically but also proved to be an absolute sensation at the box office, tallying an incredible $213 million of its modest $8 million budget, it spawned an entire generation of Tarantino copycat films and filmmakers.  Even the recent "Bad Times At The El Royale" bears some smudges of Tarantino's handiwork.  

"Forrest Gump" meanwhile, was also a huge hit but for very different reasons.  While "Pulp Fiction" took risks with its narrative structure and excessive violence, challenging audiences while concurrently transfixing them, "Gump" does quite the opposite. It is basically a film about the joy and comfort of familiarity, from Forrest's placid life at his Greenbow, Alabama homestead that is intermittently interrupted by his inexplicable intersection with famous events, conveyed to the viewer with almost mythical television clips from the past fifty years.  

"Pulp Fiction" is a moralist fable told through the eyes of a group of small time criminals, some whose choices compel them to  leave this world and survive, while others are destroyed by their failure to heed the ominous events transpiring around them.  Beneath its saccharine surface, "Forrest Gump" conveys a admonishing moralist warning to it's viewers.  While Forrest simply does as what he's told, whether it be by his Mama, drill sergeant, or the simple nature of his heart, these choices, or lack thereof, bring him great bounty.  Conversely, Jenny, a physical embodiment of the rebellious counter culture that sprung up in the sixties is finally brought back crashing down to when she is diagnosed with AIDS.

"Forrest Gump" is not completely without merits. It is exactly what it set out to be: a fun and occasionally somber yarn that explores the loss of America's innocence through the eyes of an innocent.  However, choosing "Gump" over "Fiction" was the cinematic equivalent of filling your plate with chocolate chip cookies at a Brazilian steak house. At the Oscar ceremony in 1995 after winning the statue for Best Screenplay, Tarantino confessed that he'd "gotten sick of losing to Forrest Gump" throughout the awards season.  However, that season has long past and "Pulp Fiction's" impact on cinema continues to resonate today.

1996: 

"The English Patient" Beats "Fargo"

Like most of us, Hollywood often likes to fall back onto what is staid, familiar and comfortable. ("Driving Miss Daisy" winning out over a field of four arguably more qualified contenders immediately jumps to mind.) To me, the most glaring example is the 1996 Best Picture.  While "Forrest Gump" might be a bit sweet and sentimental, it continues to be a beloved film that even enjoyed an IMAX revival a couple of years ago.  "The English Patient", however, seems to have fallen into the ether much like the nearly comatose character named in the film's title.  Contrarily, "Fargo", the brilliant crime/comedy from the Coen Brothers, whose witty and workmanlike filmography had produced a decade of memorable crime and comedy films before they wisely decided to combine the two genres and place it in the seemingly placid, blank canvas of the American Midwest.  

"The English Patient" has all of the trappings of what is known both affectionately and derisively as "Oscar Bait."  An excessively long historical drama depicting a tale of love lost told in flashback.  Indeed, just a capsule description of the film's plot makes it "sound important".  "Fargo", meanwhile, on the surface at least, comes off like a tawdry tale that one might've come across watching an episode of "Hard Copy" or "Inside Edition" in the 90s.  An inept car salesman, having deeply entrenched himself in debt hires a pair of inept two-bit crooks to kidnap his wife and bilk his wealthy employer/father-in-law to secure the necessary funds.  The plot could have easily been encapsulated in an episode of "Law And Order".  

However, what sets "Fargo" apart is the even keeled hand that the Coens put on the balance between the comedy and drama in the film.  Part of us feels deeply for Jerry Lundegaard, the sad-sack portrayed brilliantly by William H. Macy in the role that put him on the map as the best American character actor of the past twenty years this side of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, while the other half can't help but laugh as he helplessly circles the drain further and further into despair, utterly destroying his own life as well as that of his family. Equally splendid is Coen mainstay Frances McDormand who rightfully one the first of two Best Actress trophies for her portrayal of the measured, meticulous but mellow Marge Gunderson who finds herself pulled into Jerry's poorly fashioned scheme.  

"Fargo" continues to stand apart as one of the key films from a team that have served up more than their share of bonafide classics, even inspiring a television show that premiered in 2014 and continues today.  Meanwhile, "The English Patient" has fallen into the pack of other Best Picture winners that too closely follow the Oscar mold.