What do the Oscars tell us about life? Nothing, of course.
"Winning the Academy Award," as Paddy Chayefsky once famously told
Vanessa Redgrave, "is not a pivotal moment in history." Yet there
is no denying that the Oscars generate a great deal of interest,
catching the attention of tens of millions of Americans, including
many gay Americans, if only for a few hours. The results are
studied by film buffs and trivia lovers for years to come, and
become a part of the Zeitgeist.
While unimportant in the great scheme of things, the Oscars are
a national institution. They highlight trends in the culture, serve
as a milepost in mainstream American film, and provide a glimpse of
what the top professionals in one of our countries' most
significant industries perceive as the best they and their
colleagues have produced in the prior year. As a result, the Oscars
serve as a seal of approval for many infrequent film-goers, who are
more likely to watch a film on DVD or video, or will watch it when
it later on television, if the film has earned the Academy
Award.
The Oscar reflects and bolsters Hollywood's bottom-line: an
Oscar win in a major category can produce millions of additional
dollars for a film, and the best picture Oscar can generate tens of
millions in additional revenue-Million Dollar Baby took in
an additional $35 million after taking home the Oscar last
year-while also serving as a green-light for films with similar
themes in the future. For example, the best picture Oscar for
Dancing With Wolves revitalized the Western genre, while
the award for Chicago did the same for musicals.
It is for that reason that Sunday night's Oscars have some
importance to the gay community. The Academy's decision to award
the Best Picture Oscar to Crash rather than Brokeback
Mountain says that we have a way to go before films with gay
characters at their core will receive Hollywood's highest honor.
How far, it is difficult to say. The defeat of Brokeback
Mountain was a serious blow, one that suggests that Hollywood
feels unable to endorse a gay love story with its highest honor,
even if it means overturning years of Oscar precedent to do so.
Make no mistake, the motion picture academy used a tire iron on
Brokeback Mountain Sunday night, a fact that seems to be
lost on a few leaders in the gay community, including Neil G.
Giuliano, the clueless head of GLAAD, who sent out an e-mail on
Monday morning highlighting Brokeback and
Capote's four wins and stating that "our community has
cause to celebrate" (a sentiment echoed in this
subsequent press release).
A positive spin is often appropriate, but not after a setback
such as this. Surely the academy members who told the press they
would not even see Brokeback Mountain, yet alone vote for
it, deserved some criticism from GLAAD. Instead, the organization
put the Oscar-produced gay cowboy montage from Sunday's broadcast
on their website. Given the end results of the evening, there was
little humor to be found in a second viewing of the clips.
None of the press coverage I have seen reflects how much
precedent has been broken. It is substantial. No film in history
that has won the best picture award from both the Los Angeles and
New York Film Critics Association has ever lost the best picture
Oscar, until Brokeback Mountain. No film that has won the
producers', directors' and writers' guild awards has ever lost the
best picture Oscar, until Brokeback Mountain. No film that
has won the Golden Globe, the directors' guild award and led in
Oscar nominations, has ever lost the best picture Oscar, until
Brokeback Mountain. I am at a loss to explain why GLAAD
thinks this is something worth celebrating.
To its credit, Crash overcame significant obstacles to
win best picture. It is only the second film in history to win
without having been nominated for the Golden Globe. It is the
lowest grossing film to win since The Last Emperor in
1987. It is the first film since Rocky in 1976, 30 years ago, to
win best picture with only two other Oscars to its credit. It is
the first ensemble drama to win since Grand Hotel in 1931.
And it broke more than 75 years of non-parochial voting by Academy
members to become the first film set entirely in Los Angeles to
take home the golden statue.
Some of us thought that this was the year that a gay-themed film
could break through in the top category. And, clearly, it almost
did. Ang Lee became the first non-white director to be honored as
best director. (I'm sure he earned the respect of every director in
Hollywood when he pointedly forgot to individually thank his cast.)
Oscar voters may have thought that by giving Lee his Oscar, and
rewarding Phillip Seymour Hoffman with the best actor award for his
lisping, negative portrayal of Truman Capote, they had insulated
themselves from charges of homophobia. They were wrong. The
decision to honor Crash with the best picture award,
coming after a long, unprecedented season of wins for Brokeback
Mountain in critics' and guild polls, leaves a bitter taste,
reflected in most of the entertainment industry press.
The shock is perhaps most notably expressed by the LA
Times film critic Kenneth Turan who berated Academy voters in
a major article in Monday's paper. "In the privacy of the voting
booth, as many political candidates who've led in polls only to
lose elections have found out, people are free to act out the
unspoken fears and unconscious prejudices that they would never
breathe to another soul, or, likely, acknowledge to themselves," he
wrote. "And at least this year, that acting out doomed
Brokeback Mountain."
Others report widespread distaste for Brokeback among
the academy's older members, a distaste expressed by Tony Curtis,
who told Fox News that he would not even see the film before voting
against it. The New York Times on Monday quoted an
attendee at an Oscar party who noted, without irony, that older
academy voters opposed Brokeback Mountain because it
"diminished" cowboys as iconic figures in movies. (Remarks like
that suggest that the branding of Brokeback Mountain as a
"gay cowboy" film, and the attendant jokes from late-night comics,
defined the movie as something other than a serious cry from the
heart.)
Turan's opinion, that anti-gay prejudice led to the defeat of
Brokeback Mountain, has clearly hit a nerve. Roger Ebert,
one of the few public voices of support for Crash in the
pre-Oscar campaign, has already responded with a defense of the
winner, arguing that the film was superior. That judgment seems to
have lost in the initial press reports, where the defeat of
Brokeback Mountain is being reported as one of the biggest
upsets in Oscar history, and a decision that is being seen as a
stain on Hollywood's liberal conscience. To be fair, support for
Crash among the actors in the academy appears to be
widespread. It won the Screen Actors Guild award for best ensemble
(an award given to The Birdcage 10 years ago), and actors
make up over 20 percent of the academy's voters. And its appears to
have been the choice of the Scientologists in the industry, who
provided funding for the film-which also explains why the ensemble
story set in contemporary Los Angeles contained not a single gay
character.
Of course, this is only about Oscars and the movies. Despite
George Clooney's absurd assertion in his acceptance speech on
Sunday night that Hollywood is a leader in the social arena-an
assertion later endorsed by the Oscar producers with another
ridiculous montage of films on social issues, a montage that
inexplicably included films such as Something's Gotta
Give-Hollywood has never been a leader in social causes. It
never leads; rather, it reflects. Clooney's claim that the movie
industry was out front on AIDS issues was perhaps his most
far-fetched notion. Despite its loss of the best picture Oscar,
Brokeback Mountain has already become a cultural
phenomenon, and it has earned more than $130 million world-wide at
the box office, making it one of the most financially successful
westerns or gay dramas in history.
It is too early to know what impact the defeat of Brokeback
Mountain will have on other films that have recently been
green-lighted as a result of its box office appeal. It will be a
shame if projects such as The Mayor of Castro Street and
The Dreyfuss Affair are now shelved. One certain result
will be the loss of many gay supporters at Oscar parties next year.
Rather than a time for escapist fun, Oscar-time for several years
in the future will bring back memories of the night Brokeback
Mountain was denied the top prize to a vastly inferior film.
As one who has viewed the annual program with enthusiasm for
decades, I know I will not be tuning in next year.