Of all of the themes that have underscored the last few years of Academy Awards discourse- obsolescence, lack of diversity, Eurocentrism, snobbery- perhaps the saddest and most evident is insecurity. For several years now, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has been grappling with the fact that the Oscars have become an easy target for cultural ridicule and, worse yet, cultural apathy. And each year, the organization’s painfully out-of-touch efforts to reverse this process only lead to its acceleration.
The rate and cause of the decline of the Oscars are debatable. Although the ceremony’s television ratings have been on a somewhat steady decline since around the late 2000s, the uniquely online anti-Oscar vitriol of today arguably originated with the #Oscarssowhite hashtag movement of the 2015 ceremony. That year, every single nominee in the acting categories was white. Despite attracting widespread criticism, the same situation would occur the following year. In addition to accusations of racial and gender-based discrimination, critics also took aim at the actual makeup of the Motion Picture Academy. In 2012, according to a study by The Los Angeles Times, the Academy was 94% white, 77% male, and 86% over the age of fifty. Although the Academy has committed to improving this disparity, the damage of #Oscarssowhite has been done, and it remains difficult to see visible results of the Academy’s purported changes.
Of course, a noticeable shift has also been taking place in the role of one specific award: the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film. Previously known as the Best Foreign Language Film award, this is a long contested category. Over the years, viewers, critics, and filmmakers have leveled criticism at the category for its submission rules, its allowance of only one film per country, and even its definition of ‘country’ (see Palestine’s complicated history with the award.) But, most of all, especially in this day and age, the inclusion of such a category begs the question of why the Academy feels the need to isolate all of ‘foreign language cinema’ into one measly award. The category is an unfortunate relic of a much more Western-centric period in global film criticism; one that has no business remaining. While the category still exists, and even underwent a rather underwhelming name change in 2020, its obsolescence is becoming clear. 2019’s ceremony went so far as to nominate Alfonso Cuarón’s Roma in the Best Picture category, and in 2020, Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite became the first non-English language film to win the award. This year, with Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Japanese drama Drive My Car nominated for Best Picture, one can’t help but wonder how long it will take the Academy to axe the reviled International Feature Film category and simply continue to integrate non-English films into the main categories.
What’s more, to put the out-of-touch icing on the irrelevant cake, the Academy has been pathetically floundering to appeal to a wider, more commercial filmgoing audience in recent years. A particularly despicable habit of late is to cut certain awards from being aired. Luckily, the 2019 ceremony reversed the decision not to air the awards for Best Cinematography, Best Live Action Short Film, Best Film Editing, and Best Makeup and Hairstyling after they were rightly roasted to hell and back, but as of the time of writing, the Academy still plans to omit several awards from broadcast this year. Deeming categories like cinematography, editing, and styling not important enough to be aired speaks volumes to what the Academy thinks of behind-the-scenes technical roles. It only furthers the perception that the Oscars are preoccupied with superficiality; worshipping actors, directors, and producers, but disregarding the skilled individuals who make their films a reality.
Additionally, while there’s nothing inherently wrong with celebrating popular films or attempting to put on an entertaining show, the Oscars’s efforts have left a great something to be desired. The Academy has toyed with the idea of adding some sort of popular people’s choice category for a few years now. For the 91st ceremony, AMPAS planned to add a ‘Popular Film’ category. This immediately drew severe backlash for its perceived suggestion that the awards needed to be dumbed down for average viewers, as well as the fairly clear attempt at a cheap boost in ratings. Thankfully, the widespread ridicule encouraged the Academy to “postpone” the inclusion of this category to “seek additional input.” This year, though not through an official category, the Academy is attempting something similar by launching an “Oscars Fan Favorite” contest on Twitter. The ceremony will recognize the winners of two online categories: favorite film and favorite film moment. While the decision to have an online contest is slightly less obtrusive than an entire official category for ‘popular’ films, it still comes off as a cheap ploy to improve dwindling ratings. Film awards that honor popularity already exist. There’s nothing wrong with popular film awards, nor is there anything wrong with prestige film awards, but to attempt to have both in the same ceremony will likely only widen the cultural gap between the audiences for the two and muddy the already confusing waters of the Oscars’s reputation.
The Academy seems to be facing an identity crisis, one that has been a long time coming. Any institution, particularly in America, that has existed since the 1920s must at some point reckon with its past, present, and future goals. What does the Academy want to achieve for the landscape of cinema? What purpose does it want the Academy Awards to serve? If the answer continues to be “To make as much money as possible” or “To advertise Disney properties” well, alright, but I probably won’t be tuning in. In a world where film and media are at our fingertips with unprecedented ease and accessibility; where the masses, particularly young people, put less trust than ever in authority and celebrity culture, where civil and environmental unrest abound, it is paramount that a gaudy evening of unimaginably rich people congratulating one another on their dazzling Hollywood mediocrity justify its existence. Unfortunately, try as it might, the Academy gives me no reason to hold my breath.
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