..Gary Dretzka
..Noah Forrest
..Leonard Klady
..R.J. Matson
..David Poland
..Douglas Pratt
..Ray Pride
..Michael Wilmington

The Best and the Brightest: A Rush to Judgement (Place Ad Here)

This has probably popped up on at least one previous occasion. Most of my mornings are spent at the Fairfax Farmer's Market (not the one making recent tragic headlines in Santa Monica) with a group of curmudgeons (mostly writers) that work in the film industry. I've been part of the relatively consistent assemblage for close to 20 years and we've popped up on television (Naked Hollywood) and print profiles (Los Angeles Weekly).

The morning gab and kvetchfest has spawned countless articles and columns over the years (including this one). The other day, one group member weighed in with his assessment of Seabiscuit. Like so many others, he found the film's first 40 minutes - in which the backstories of the owner, trainer and jockey of the famous mount are detailed - to be cumbersome and overstated. He also felt the pains taken to situate the tale as the quintessence of the great Depression to be inelegant and pointed to a TV documentary on the steed that managed to do all those things in less than five minutes.

However, he also said that it was a serious, thoughtful adult film with an emotional pull that overcame most of its flaws. Another table participant piped in and asked: "So is it going to win the Oscar?" The response was negative but the film was clearly, seven months into 2003, the current frontrunner.

What grabbed my attention in the brief exchange was the inclusion of Oscar. It is the yardstick from which each film's pedigree is measured. No one involved in a discourse of this nature anywhere on earth is going to ask: Will it win the Golden Globe? Will the National Society make it the picture of the year? And that pretty much distills the fact that Oscar is the big kahuna of film awards. That's been further underlined by the upheaval of the upcoming Praiseathon season now that the Academy Awards will take place one month earlier than its decades-long standard late March berth.

I've long maintained that talk of Oscar prior to Labor Day ought to be legislated a felony offence. Several years back a colleague pressed me for Oscar predictions at about this point in the calendar and my patience began to rapidly erode. "People want to know," he insisted. I doubted that, especially because those films he was touting were months away from release and yet to receive any sort of marketing push. Finally, I advised him that if he had to write about the upcoming race and battles that he ought to take a less serious tone and made a $5 wager that what he wrote that day would be unrecognizable from his awards coverage in December or January when he'd actually seen all those films that were presently mere speculation.

But before I'm carried off to serve my term for violating the code, I'd like to plea bargain down to a misdemeanor. There will be no mention (apart from this reference) of Cold Mountain, Master and Commander or Mystic River in regard to their Oscarability or the hue and cry should they fail to meet the cut. My present thoughts are about the institution, its position within the American and global film industries and how it measures up to the standards established within and outside its ranks.

Somewhere in the recesses of my memory bank is an interview with Oscar winner Lee Marvin conducted by Dick Clark on, of all places, American Bandstand. My recollection is that it occurred circa 1970 and Clark asked Marvin whether the award was "legitimate." The canny Marvin leapt in with a sort of endorsement of Price-Waterhouse. He was confident that the person or film that received the majority of Academy member votes indeed took home the statuette. He took a pause for emphasis and continued with: "If you're asking, Dick, whether sentiment is a factor in voting, I'd have to say that sometimes it is."

Sentiment, in the mushiest sense of the word, hasn't really been an oppressive element in Oscar history. About a decade back, a senior studio exec told me that people would be tuning in the broadcast that year because they wanted to see a movie star finally get his due. At that moment in time it was Al Pacino and he did collect his trophy for Scent of a Woman. We all know that when Pacino makes his final exit that his obit will lead off with the words "Oscar winner" and perhaps some mention of the film for which he received the recognition (there will be no mention of other film awards or they will be buried near the end of the piece). However, the film performance that will be singled out will include The Godfathers, Dog Day Afternoon and possibly Scarface.

Who wins the Oscar may not always be just or appropriate but somewhere over the course of time, the Academy does its level best to cite those individuals who have left a footprint in the sands of cinema. There is no such thing as an inarguable winner and, barring a tie, there will be five disappointed people when the envelope is opened and a winner announced.

Take the case of Peter O'Toole, a seven-time also ran that Academy members nonetheless respect and admire. Over time some of his nominated performances may have worn better than those of even winners on the ballot, but what chance did he have against such adversaries such as Gregory Peck, John Wayne and Brando. So, just last year, the organization's board of governors sought to redress the situation and gave O'Toole a special Oscar as it has done for such Oscarless icons as Cary Grant and Alfred Hitchcock and, ironically, Henry Fonda and Paul Newman who won competitive statuettes one year after receiving special consideration.

What must be kept in perspective is that the Academy Award reflects achievement in mainstream American movies. It has doled out honors for work done outside studio walls but often it's been to individuals who were part of the system (William Hurt) or to those being courted by it (Sophia Loren, Daniel Day-Lewis). The honors simply reflect a bias that's understandable considering the composition of its membership, just as the prizes, often arcane, presented by critics groups are the consensus of a different sensibility.

Still, any objective analysis of the "best" movie in any of the past 75 years probably would not elect for a 100% slate of English-language pictures. It also seems slightly imbalanced that just two of roughly 288 awards presented in acting categories since the inception of the Oscars have gone to roles in a foreign language movie. The same Americentric result has been true in every other category from writing to production design but not the case (especially since 1960) in non-fiction, short subject and, by definition, foreign-language nominees and winners.

The idea behind film industry awards conferred by members of the film industry was never an altruistic pursuit. Certainly part of the impetus came from a string of Hollywood scandals and a seeming need to remind the public that there were films being made that aspired to the finest artistic standards. It was a show with rewards to the popular and gifted and a little bit of positive publicity for movies and movie stars.

Today, the Oscars are the number one promotional vehicle for American movies. Statuettes translate into film revenue, boost careers and salaries and generate millions for the organization's other educational and philanthropic activities. For its bottom-liners, documentaries, short subjects and foreign movies are window dressing that they'd prefer be jettisoned. And though one doesn't embrace that attitude, it has a certain merit. The embattled categories do not represent the activities of American mainstream moviemakers and studios. The majors long ago abandoned those departments that produced newsreels, Tom and Jerry, and two-reel dramas such as Crime Does Not Pay that pop up as fillers on Turner Classics. The night at the movies that used to offer an eclectic menu now consists of paid ads, movie trailers and the feature presentation.

Coincidently, the rule book for the 76th Academy Awards arrived last week and the guidelines in most categories are relatively straight forward (the five acting achievements receiving the highest number of votes shall become the nominations for final voting). However, that is not the case in foreign-language and documentary sections. For example in foreign-language a submitting country has to have a special jury or board composed of people from that country's film industry and the film it selects must have a majority creative input from artists of that nation. Still, the Academy can (but rarely has) reject official submissions. The film has to have played during a specified period and the version sent must be the release version in that country. Films that do not make the final ballot may be eligible for Oscar consideration in subsequent years based on when they receive an American release but category finalists can only by eligible in other categories in the year of submission and only if they have received a commercial release in the United States. In the words of Avril Lavigne, "why'd ya have to make things so complicated?"

To celebrate its diamond anniversary the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has hosted a series of special programs including a weekly screening of Oscar winners dubbed Facets of the Diamond that runs Mondays and is open to the public. It has been a raging success and in addition to reminding us that a bygone evening at a movie theater was more than the feature attraction (bring back dish night), has prompted the recurring question: What were Academy voters thinking when they gave the Oscar to (fill in name of movie)?

Time can be awfully cruel and I submit Cavalcade, The Greatest Show on Earth and The Sting for your consideration. I can appreciate that the zeitgeist of the moment played to the advantage of Gentleman's Agreement but am baffled at what prompted voters in 1957 to select Around the World in 80 Days rather than Giant or Friendly Persuasion. Similarly, it's tough to top Daniel Day-Lewis' Oscar performance in My Left Foot but had the town not been totally aware of the personal and financial sacrifice involved in Cliff Robertson's mounting Charly, might O'Toole have earned an Oscar for A Lion in Winter?

At this point it should be noted that a major beneficiary of Oscar largess has been the trades and other media outlets. There isn't time enough to note the number of film related magazines and organizations that survive or thrive from money spent to promote movies and individuals along the yellow brick road to Hollywood and Highland's Kodak Theater. In these tough economic times, it would be foolish not to welcome some form of Academy-related sponsorship.

That said, with or without a sugar daddy, I'm going to bite the bullet shortly after Labor Day and take up a friend's (and two-time Oscar winner) challenge and examine as much of Oscar's 75 year history of winners and others as is humanly possible to stomach. Who won, who should have won, who didn't even get nominated. It's a rear view mirror perspective and I reiterate that virtually nothing is inarguable. But were ballots to be cast today for the best movie achievements of 1948 would Hamlet prevail or would it be vanquished by The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Now if Disney will just lend me Jiminy Cricket, I'll put him on my shoulder to remind me to keep the exercise entertaining and get on with the show.

- by Leonard Klady