I’d like to thank the Academy for the Oscar.
Yes, the awards might have been a mere afterthought in Louis B. Mayer’s dreams for “the Academy" — part PR ploy to persuade the public that Hollywood was not a den of sin and scandal, part consolidation of power by a group of producers bucking unionization efforts. Yes, no one knows exactly who is responsible for the name “Oscar" (though Academy librarian Margaret Herrick is said to have nicknamed the statue after her uncle).
And yes, they often get it very wrong. Let’s not forget that “Citizen Kane” and “Brokeback Mountain” lost best picture, that “Crash” and “Green Book” won, that “2001: A Space Odyssey,” “Do the Right Thing” and “Hoop Dreams” weren’t even nominated and that David Lynch never received a competitive Oscar. Sometimes they get it right, too (see: “One Battle After Another”).
Like many things about the business of making movies in America, the Oscars are full of contradictions.
It is at once an undeniable honor — the most recognizable award one can receive for making movies — and a manifestation of everything that’s rotten in moviemaking, with egos, money and power tipping the scales over merit. But since the first awards were handed out in 1929 in a ceremony that took all of 10 minutes, the Oscars have become a cultural bellwether and a billion-dollar cottage industry — the culmination of an “awards season” supporting consultants, pundits, publications, stylists, stagehands and dreamers.
The value of an Oscar is both everything and nothing. The statue itself costs about $400 to produce. Studios shell out tens of millions on awards campaigns. For some lucky winners, bigger paychecks can follow. Still, it’s hardly a guarantee of a better life or career. And the resale market is complicated. If you won your award after 1951, neither you nor your heirs may sell or even dispose of the statue without first giving the Academy the option to purchase it for $1.
Oscar’s popularity has fluctuated across the years. Not just with viewers, who have tuned in and out since the first broadcast in 1953. In 1969, a 22-year-old Candice Bergen raised her hand to help recruit a younger class of Academy members, like Dennis Hopper. In 2015, a tweet, #OscarsSoWhite, started another membership revolution. Critics have been crying irrelevance since its earliest days.
Still, we watch. Complaining about the Oscars is, after all, its own pastime.
Picture Courtesy: AP Photo/Jason DeCrow, File
