96th Academy Awards — Janus Rising
Oppenheimer swept. Poor Things placed. Now what?
The 96th Academy Awards are now in the books. I’ve already done a fair amount of pontificating about the significance of these awards with a lengthy historical analysis (Part 1 and Part 2) as well as a general preview. As I predicted, the Christopher Nolan itch was finally scratched as Oppenheimer landed seven statuettes including Best Picture. Contrary to my expectations and predictions, it was Poor Things and not Barbie which walked away in second place, capturing four statuettes. Had the Barbenheimer phenomenon carried all the way through Sunday night’s festivities, it would have sent an unequivocal message. Instead, we have something of a mixed message — suggesting an Academy in flux, a bit uncertain and insecure, simultaneously bold and timid, prepared to reconnect with audiences and embrace the best legacy elements of its past yet not yet fully prepared to relinquish its worst present tendencies. In other words, the Oscars are a bit like all of us — quick to make mistakes, slow to recognize them and even slower to remedy them. To better understand what it all means, we need to separate the show from the awards. Though inseparable in the moment, the show and the awards represent two very different things with divergent shelf lives and somewhat different messaging.
The Show
The second Oscarcast under the aegis of new Academy CEO Bill Kramer gives us a better idea of where Kramer’s priorities lie: don’t reinvent the wheel, stick to the basics, keep it simple and clean. No drama. No slaps. No bungled Best Picture announcements. With few exceptions, that has been precisely what the last two shows delivered, and the results are incrementally positive. After a catastrophic drop in ratings between 2014 and 2021 which saw the show shed more than 75% of its traditional audience, the Oscarcast has slowly rebounded year over year since that time. This year’s ratings clocked in at just shy of 20 million viewers. That’s still the fourth lowest-rated show in history — but it’s the first time since 2011-2014 that the show has increased viewership for three straight years. Some are slighting the first two Kramer shows as “boring” and “uneventful,” but it’s worth remembering that if the show’s notoriety outlives that of the recipients, something is wrong. The show is meant to serve a function “in the moment,” and not steal the thunder of the winners, whose honors and achievements live “in perpetuity.”
Jimmy Kimmel’s hosting years are quite likely over. It was clear that John Mulaney was inserted into the roster of presenters as a tryout for next year — he already hosted the Academy Governors Awards in January and was allegedly well-received — as Kimmel gave the audience no reason to root for his return. The opening monologue is supposed to be the easy part — putting everyone at ease with some softball jokes about the year’s movies which everyone can comfortably laugh at. Watch any Oscarcast hosted by either Billy Crystal or, going back further, Bob Hope, and you see how it’s done. Kimmel, by contrast, opened the show with a tasteless crack about Robert Downey Jr.’s youthful drug problems and, when that failed, chased it with an apparently unscripted crack about Downey’s penis. What would Bob Hope do? What would Billy Crystal do? Not that. Kimmel, however, has a known edge — his strange, unexplained and tactlessly public feud with Jay Leno years ago should have been a red flag that he was not the warm, fuzzy, bring-America-together kind of host from which the Oscars have historically benefitted. Indeed, he went off-script again late in the show and defied producers’ request — including the advice of his wife, Molly McNearney, one of the show’s executive producers — that he ignore former president Donald Trump’s trolling tweets about his performance. While the Trump bashing landed well with partisans in the crowd and undoubtedly many at home — it was further evidence that Kimmel is thin-skinned, incapable of staying on script, easily baited and lacks the discipline and demeanor for the job. He is, however, an employee of ABC which, for at least a few more years, continues to wield outsized influence over the show. Post-Kimmel, however, the Academy would do well to re-approach the kinds of talents who could deliver what Hope and Crystal once did. By way of suggestions, it would be worth re-approaching Kevin Hart, who was unceremoniously dumped by the previous Academy regime based on the crime of a single tweet from years past which some skittishly deemed homophobic. Since that time, Hart’s movies continue to perform, and he sells out stadiums. Jerry Seinfeld likewise continues to be a unifying presence, beloved by a wide and diverse swath of the audience. Though no longer a late night host, Jay Leno’s appeal to a broad cross-section of the television audience remains similarly strong. Any number of popular SNL alumni could also handle the chores — from Kate McKinnon to Tina Fey to no less than Jimmy Fallon. Sam Rockwell performed particularly well this week as a presenter and is always a likable presence in public appearances and guest spots, as is the always wonderful Paul Rudd. A particularly appealing name which has been bandied about and should be seriously considered is Duane Johnson — a star so broadly likable and hard-working that his name has half-seriously been floated as a prospective candidate for president. Any of these names should be in serious contention — though it makes sense to start by making amends with Hart while sending the audience the strong message that no one should lose a job over old tweets or old jokes that didn’t land as intended.
At the same time, it’s worth noting that the writing on Oscarcasts has never been particularly good — dumb jokes and inane banter between presenters has been a staple for too long, dating at least to the 1970s. This year was no different with John Cena’s clumsy, unfunny streaker gag and the agony of watching Octavia Spencer and Melissa McCarthy attempt to pull off banter about the similarities between Chippendales and Chip ‘n Dale. It has to stop. Hire a solid host, surround him or her with a good writing staff — and you’re half-way to a pain-free show for presenters, honorees and the audience. The other half — can be remedied by simply hiring a competent producer or producing team.
Here, sadly, there remains much work to do. The practice of presenting only one of the 23 categories in the first half hour simply must end. At least three statuettes should be presented in the first thirty minutes if audiences are to feel in any way invested in the proceedings. It might even open up enough time to bring the presentation of honorary Oscars along with the Irving Thalberg and Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Awards back into the main ceremony. Unfortunately, each new set of producers seem to feel the need to put their “imprimatur” on the show — which is how we get innovations like Rob Lowe dancing with Snow White, the unappealing COVID-19-era spectacle of the awards being clumsily and awkwardly presented in downtown Los Angeles’ vintage Union Station train depot, and banquet-style seating of actors at tables in the front row… where they can too easily walk on stage and slap the host. To date, the best Oscarcasts of all time were those produced by the late, great Gilbert Cates who oversaw fourteen Oscarcasts between 1990 and 2008. Cates, full disclosure, was also the founding dean of the UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television from which I graduated. As just one example of the polish and professionalism which Cates brought to the job — the In Memoriam segment was always handled with aplomb. Incredibly, the one segment which ought to be the easiest to not flub has become the most consistently criticized. This year’s was one of the worst — with the broadcast focused more intently on a simultaneous dance number than the deceased figures the segment is intended to honor. Home viewers squinted and pressed their faces against the TV screen to try and make out what names were flashing across the Dolby Theatre screen only to be further surprised when an unwelcome splitscreen began flashing multiple names simultaneously — including sales agents, marketing executives and others who have no business being memorialized on the show, while once again omitting numerous significant figures or shoving them into a single, impossible-to-read slide at the very end. If you recorded the show and freeze-framed you could see such beloved actors as Burt Young, Treat Williams, Lance Reddick and Barry Humphries along with legendary filmmakers Kenneth Anger and Terence Davies all squished together on a single slide.
If only they had been sales agents or marketing executives.
Is it really so difficult to have an Academy intern keep track of all major industry obits during the calendar year?
If Cates never flubbed this segment — there’s no excuse for anyone else to. Follow his lead.
The return of the “pantheon” approach to presenting the acting awards, by contrast, was a wonderful and welcome surprise. First tried in 2009, it features the acting awards presented by group of five former winners, each addressing a current nominee with personalized praise for their achievements. It’s good television, it exponentially multiplies the celebrity value for the show, it connects viewers to great films and performances of the past and in so doing honors the legacy of cinema. It’s a wonderful tradition which should continue as a regular practice as it brings honor, dignity and distinction to the proceedings.
While the Oscars can’t control which songs get nominated, there is always the hope that at least one of the songs furnishes an opportunity for television spectacle — and this year did not disappoint. I’m Just Ken, one of two nominated songs from Barbie, gave Ryan Gosling a rare chance to showcase his live performance chops (easily on par with former Mickey Mouse Club colleagues Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake). The special number created for the Oscars by Gosling and La La Land choreographer Mandy Moore was primarily a riff on renowned Hollywood choreographer Jack Cole’s Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend number for Marilyn Monroe in Howard Hawks’ beloved 1953 musical, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.
The wild card at any Oscarcast are the speeches — over which the Academy also has little control other than holding winners to a time limit. Acceptance speeches from Best Supporting Actress Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Best Original Screenplay winner Cord Jefferson, Best Supporting Actor Robert Downey Jr., composer Kris Bowers, who co-directed Best Documentary Short winner The Last Repair Shop, and Mstyslav Chernov, director of Best Documentary Feature winner 20 Days in Mariupol were all moving, powerful, heartfelt, spontaneous, dignified and non-controversial — the kinds of speeches audiences tune in to hear. Chernov’s words still resonate in my ears like poetry: “Cinema forms memory — and memory forms history.” Conversely, there was Zone of Interest director Jonathan Glazer’s abysmal, self-sabotaging acceptance speech for Best International Film. Blandly and hastily reading from a prepared statement, Glazer undermined his own film by taking a swipe at the state of Israel, picking sides in the current conflict and stating openly what his otherwise exactingly subtle movie went to great pains to merely suggest. It’s hard to remember any filmmaker doing so much damage to the reputation and legacy of his or her own movie in such a triumphant moment.
The most positive take-away from the show was that with four years to go before the hotly-anticipated 100th anniversary ceremony, there is time to fix what’s broken — and to reinforce what is clearly working. While the hated ABC contract continues through 2028, its expiration at that time should give Bill Kramer and the Academy more than enough leverage to do what they want to do — before hopefully giving ABC and their incessant and ever-expanding ad breaks the heave ho. It’s increasingly clear that ABC’s advertisers have a target audience which does not align with the Academy’s.
The Awards
It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of Poor Things — I said as much on radio and stand by my criticisms. That said, it was nonetheless the second most nominated film this year, with 11 nods behind Oppenheimer’s 13, one ahead of Killers of the Flower Moon with 10 and three ahead of fourth-place Barbie with 8. That its victories in categories the other films were expected to win — like Production Design, Makeup and Hairstyling, Costume Design and Actress — are being regarded as upsets says less about the films than it does about those of us who were making the predictions. What we read in the Barbenheimer phenomenon was only half a phenomenon — which a visit to Rotten Tomatoes makes clear. While Oppenheimer scores high for both critics and audiences (93% and 91%), Poor Things remains markedly more popular with critics than audiences (92% to 79%). That discrepancy becomes even more pronounced when factoring in box office performance. Whereas Oppenheimer’s 91% audience approval comes from a population that rewarded it with $958 million in ticket sales, Poor Things’ tepid 79% comes from a markedly smaller audience which topped out with $108 million globally. To put that in perspective, Oppenheimer enthralled critics and audiences alike, in large numbers across all demographic segments. Poor Things only really enthralled critics, registering barely lukewarm with the handful of art house filmgoers who bothered to see it and who should have constituted its core audience.
In culinary terms, that’s like having a gourmet burger with a side of escargot. Each has its fans, one is clearly more broadly popular than the other — but nobody in their right mind orders them up on the same plate. This tells us that the Academy’s membership is deeply divided. We’ve known this for some time. The massive expansion in Academy membership which has taken place over the past decade, and which began in 2013 under the presidency of Cheryl Boone Isaacs, has introduced a certain volatility. Just as Oppenheimer and Barbie were reported to have appealed to different core demos, it’s clear that Oppenheimer and Poor Things — which is often cited as a kind of edgier, art house Barbie — also hit very different sensibilities, with Oppenheimer likely favored by an older, more classically-inclined segment of the membership and Poor Things faring better with the younger, more recent membership. Like the mythological Janus, this suggests an Academy peering in two directions at once — looking toward the past and the hope of resurrecting bygone glory with films like Oppenheimer — while also looking toward the future at audacious, even potentially offensive fare like Poor Things which push the envelope not just on what’s permissible in a mainstream feature film, but on how stories should be told and how those who make them should behave.
If I had to bet on one of those camps prevailing, I would always bet on the old guard — simply because Academy membership, as it ages, has always historically trended more toward a romantic reverence for Hollywood legacy cinema than anything with a whiff of the avant-garde.
Certain other milestones are worth noting. The Best Visual Effects Oscar won by Godzilla Minus One director Takashi Yamazaki marks the first time a film’s director, and not a dedicated visual effects supervisor, has won the award since Stanley Kubrick did so for 2001: A Space Odyssey in 1969. It is also arguable that this is less about the film or Yamazaki and more about the fact that the budget for Godzilla Minus One was only $15 million — smaller than the total visual effects budgets for each of its competitors. Consider this award a message from the Academy to the studios, to get their budgets and particularly their VFX budgets under control.
Oppenheimer’s Best Picture and Best Cinematography wins are also noteworthy. Shot on both traditional 65mm film stock and 65mm IMAX film stock, Oppenheimer becomes the first large format film to win Best Cinematography since David Lean’s Ryan’s Daughter in 1971, and the first Best Picture winner shot in a large format since 1965’s The Sound of Music. Here, too, the Academy is nodding toward the past and giving audiences and artists hope for a return to what works — as opposed to what ABC and corporate bullies would attempt to force them to do. Significantly, while Poor Things may technically appeal to younger and more “alternative” Academy voters, the fact that director Yorgos Lanthimos also shot on film (black and white, color and both reversal and negative stocks) is a promising sign that even the most stylistically aggressive filmmakers are clinging to legacy film formats and keeping the digital tide at bay. Here, too, the past wins.
In Part 2 of my previous two-part analysis of this year’s awards, I introduced the NiTT Score — for “Nominees in Top Ten” — to help measure the correlation of Best Picture nominees and winners to top box office performers over time. One (1) point is awarded for every Best Picture nominee ranked among the year’s box office top ten, two (2) points added if the year’s #1 box office champion is nominated for Best Picture but does not win, two (2) more points added if the eventual Best Picture winner is top ten ranked outside of #1, and five (5) points added if Best Picture and the year’s #1 box office champion are one and the same. In that previous piece I compared the two “more than 10 nominee” periods (1929/30 to 1943 and 2009 to Present) and also showed how NiTT Scores in the televised Oscarcast era (1952 to present) correlate to the collapse in Oscar ratings and forecast the doldrums the awards have seen over the past decade and a half. What I did not show in the previous piece is the complete NiTT Score snapshot across the entire 96-year span of the Academy Awards. Without further ado, I present that snapshot here:
There’s a great deal to study and question and take away from this chart — and I’ll have a lot more to say about some of those details in the coming weeks and months. What we can optimistically say for now is that it appears possible, if not likely, that serious change across the industry may be in the offing — and in the best possible way. Bill Kramer obviously can’t take credit for making the films which get nominated and which win, but by bringing a level of confidence back to the position of Academy CEO, he has clearly impacted a great deal related to the awards. It cannot be discounted that the first two years of his tenure show the highest two year-over-year NiTT Scores of any two consecutive years since 1990 and 1991 when famed independent distributor Orion won back-to-back Best Pictures with Dances With Wolves and The Silence of the Lambs. Along with the steady, if incremental, improvement in Oscarcast ratings, we have every reason to hope that we are seeing some semblance of the adults taking charge once again.
That’s not to say any of this is certain — Hollywood remains mired in uncertainty, fear and a deeply dysfunctional studio and corporate culture which took generations to construct and reinforce. It will not be easily dismantled. These trends, however, are not destiny but motivation. The metaphor of Janus peering simultaneously into the past and the future was, in simple terms, a kind of reminder to look both ways before crossing the proverbial road — to remain mindful of the inseparability and interdependence of the past and the future. If Hollywood’s executives refuse to heed that lesson — it’s up to audiences and artists to teach it to them. In that regard, the 96th Academy Awards have given us a great start.
