Oscar Wraps Up a Year in Film: Today the World, Tomorrow Hollywood
It is not just a pithy Shakespearean quote (As You Like It) any longer. The world, the whole world, is a stage … or in this case, a film.
That most ubiquitous of all mottoes about globalization, “to think globally and act locally,” has been turned on its head - at least as far as the American film industry goes. The international winds of change have hit Hollywood big time.
I am not speaking of Hollywood being more internationalist than ever before -- that trend has been percolating for awhile. Nor am I merely speaking of the larger world providing inspiration; Hollywood's borrowing and adapting, again, is nothing new. But rather, Hollywood now seeks -- not just admires or recognizes -- other cultures, traditions, practices, values (the more exotic and “other,” the better) as source material for its own products. That is, these outside elements are absorbed into what are essentially Hollywood, not foreign, films. Some might say that Hollywood is no longer just an exporter of popular culture, an influencer or even a cultural imperialist; it is now in the business of co-optation.
For the past week, after Lincoln lost to Argo and Life of Pi, respectively, for Best Picture and Best Director (Ang Lee), I have been mulling over this line of thought. When I saw Lincoln shortly after it opened in November, I was confident it would take home the award season’s biggest prize. And even as I saw more and more award contenders - all good films - my initial assessment did not change. Lincoln is the type of film the Academy, historically, loves to honor: it is a historical, period piece of grand themes and fine detail; it has a brilliant ensemble; the screenplay is sparkling - witty, authentically colloquial and at times poetic (there are virtually no throwaway lines; every word, big and small, counts in this film). Most importantly, it is about a moment of great import in our polity. It draws a portrait of an American hero in the most American of American tales and explores what the phrase “American values” really means given the boundaries of our political system and form of government. In other words, it had “Oscar” written all over it.
So what happened? I thought back to the last time in recent memory an early shoe-in lost to an upstart which gained momentum throughout award season: The Social Network’s loss to The King’s Speech in 2011. At first glance, I found the comparison puzzling because Lincoln seems to have more in common with The King’s Speech than it does The Social Network. The essentials are remarkably similar -- period drama, talented cast … both are very much “establishment” films, while Argo and The Social Network have pace and energy and I suppose what I would call the “hip” factor going for them. Yet, like Lincoln, The Social Network is very much a film about the American experience, albeit with global ramifications. (Though, naturally, in our global age, both Lincoln and The Social Network relied on the talents of those from other shores; in the case of the former, the eponymous sixteenth President of the United States was played by none other than Daniel Day-Lewis and in the latter, Andrew Garfield played Mark Zuckerberg’s erstwhile partner and confidante, Eduardo Saverin.)
Of course, it is not written down anywhere that the Oscars must award films about some aspect of the American ethos or psyche, but in the award’s 85-year history it has done so many, many, many times. And it certainly seemed that a film about one of the nation’s giants would have fared better. In the end, only Day-Lewis walked away with a major award in the Best Actor category, making history in the process (no other lead actor has ever accumulated three Oscar wins).
Of course, there was another film about the American experience that pleasantly surprised during award season. Django Unchained was Quentin Tarantino’s contribution to 2012 and won Oscars in the Best Supporting Actor (Christoph Waltz) and Best Original Screenplay (Tarantino) categories. The film is signature Tarantino - violent, irreverent, funny, dark and, of course, highly stylized. This time, it is the spaghetti western to which he pays homage against the backdrop of the antebellum South. But if it is a distinctly American film, it is also, clearly, a revisionist one. … What if it is not the American experience per se the Academy has lost interest in, but rather, the telling of it in a certain way? (Even so, it is perhaps worth mentioning that a German immigrant and a man and woman who are “American” only by way of brute force are the most sympathetic of the notable characters.)
Still, Argo and Life of Pi were the undisputed darlings of the night. Yet both - and this gets back to my original point - are Hollywood and, thus, American films, even if their subjects and settings are not (at least not exclusively). Argo follows the (real-life) rescue of six American diplomats/embassy employees caught up in the anomie of the Iranian hostage crisis of more than thirty years ago. Most of the film, however, is set in Iran and features Iranian and Canadian figures as well as Americans. Life of Pi is a beautiful adaptation of Yann Martel’s novel -- a tale, even a parable if you like, very much in the genre of magical realism - which features an Indian-Canadian, Hindu-Catholic-Muslim protagonist. It is a truly ecumenical film, in concept and in execution. (This was reflected even in Lee’s acceptance speech -- he thanked everyone in his native Mandarin and ended with “Namaste.” ) But this is no foreign, indie sleeper hit - it was made and backed by a major (US) studio.
This trend in filmmaking - of thinking locally and acting globally - is one I see continuing. In fact, I think it is the ultimate sign that Hollywood - in worldview and in demographics - has changed. Slumdog Millionaire was the blueprint for how to do a “foreign” film with international scope (and appeal). And Hollywood ate it up; awarding Slumdog Millionaire Best Picture in 2009, it has spent the intervening years tweaking and perfecting the formula (from its British origins). I expect to see more films that are essentially Made in Hollywood (writing, greenlighting, financing, directing, marketing), but which tackle "indigenous" subjects that facilitate the picture being set, cast and filmed abroad. Such films would be American in the ways that really count, yet have that veneer of being “from” somewhere else … the perfect combination it seems in this epoch.
That most ubiquitous of all mottoes about globalization, “to think globally and act locally,” has been turned on its head - at least as far as the American film industry goes. The international winds of change have hit Hollywood big time.
I am not speaking of Hollywood being more internationalist than ever before -- that trend has been percolating for awhile. Nor am I merely speaking of the larger world providing inspiration; Hollywood's borrowing and adapting, again, is nothing new. But rather, Hollywood now seeks -- not just admires or recognizes -- other cultures, traditions, practices, values (the more exotic and “other,” the better) as source material for its own products. That is, these outside elements are absorbed into what are essentially Hollywood, not foreign, films. Some might say that Hollywood is no longer just an exporter of popular culture, an influencer or even a cultural imperialist; it is now in the business of co-optation.
For the past week, after Lincoln lost to Argo and Life of Pi, respectively, for Best Picture and Best Director (Ang Lee), I have been mulling over this line of thought. When I saw Lincoln shortly after it opened in November, I was confident it would take home the award season’s biggest prize. And even as I saw more and more award contenders - all good films - my initial assessment did not change. Lincoln is the type of film the Academy, historically, loves to honor: it is a historical, period piece of grand themes and fine detail; it has a brilliant ensemble; the screenplay is sparkling - witty, authentically colloquial and at times poetic (there are virtually no throwaway lines; every word, big and small, counts in this film). Most importantly, it is about a moment of great import in our polity. It draws a portrait of an American hero in the most American of American tales and explores what the phrase “American values” really means given the boundaries of our political system and form of government. In other words, it had “Oscar” written all over it.
So what happened? I thought back to the last time in recent memory an early shoe-in lost to an upstart which gained momentum throughout award season: The Social Network’s loss to The King’s Speech in 2011. At first glance, I found the comparison puzzling because Lincoln seems to have more in common with The King’s Speech than it does The Social Network. The essentials are remarkably similar -- period drama, talented cast … both are very much “establishment” films, while Argo and The Social Network have pace and energy and I suppose what I would call the “hip” factor going for them. Yet, like Lincoln, The Social Network is very much a film about the American experience, albeit with global ramifications. (Though, naturally, in our global age, both Lincoln and The Social Network relied on the talents of those from other shores; in the case of the former, the eponymous sixteenth President of the United States was played by none other than Daniel Day-Lewis and in the latter, Andrew Garfield played Mark Zuckerberg’s erstwhile partner and confidante, Eduardo Saverin.)
Of course, it is not written down anywhere that the Oscars must award films about some aspect of the American ethos or psyche, but in the award’s 85-year history it has done so many, many, many times. And it certainly seemed that a film about one of the nation’s giants would have fared better. In the end, only Day-Lewis walked away with a major award in the Best Actor category, making history in the process (no other lead actor has ever accumulated three Oscar wins).
Of course, there was another film about the American experience that pleasantly surprised during award season. Django Unchained was Quentin Tarantino’s contribution to 2012 and won Oscars in the Best Supporting Actor (Christoph Waltz) and Best Original Screenplay (Tarantino) categories. The film is signature Tarantino - violent, irreverent, funny, dark and, of course, highly stylized. This time, it is the spaghetti western to which he pays homage against the backdrop of the antebellum South. But if it is a distinctly American film, it is also, clearly, a revisionist one. … What if it is not the American experience per se the Academy has lost interest in, but rather, the telling of it in a certain way? (Even so, it is perhaps worth mentioning that a German immigrant and a man and woman who are “American” only by way of brute force are the most sympathetic of the notable characters.)
Still, Argo and Life of Pi were the undisputed darlings of the night. Yet both - and this gets back to my original point - are Hollywood and, thus, American films, even if their subjects and settings are not (at least not exclusively). Argo follows the (real-life) rescue of six American diplomats/embassy employees caught up in the anomie of the Iranian hostage crisis of more than thirty years ago. Most of the film, however, is set in Iran and features Iranian and Canadian figures as well as Americans. Life of Pi is a beautiful adaptation of Yann Martel’s novel -- a tale, even a parable if you like, very much in the genre of magical realism - which features an Indian-Canadian, Hindu-Catholic-Muslim protagonist. It is a truly ecumenical film, in concept and in execution. (This was reflected even in Lee’s acceptance speech -- he thanked everyone in his native Mandarin and ended with “Namaste.” ) But this is no foreign, indie sleeper hit - it was made and backed by a major (US) studio.
This trend in filmmaking - of thinking locally and acting globally - is one I see continuing. In fact, I think it is the ultimate sign that Hollywood - in worldview and in demographics - has changed. Slumdog Millionaire was the blueprint for how to do a “foreign” film with international scope (and appeal). And Hollywood ate it up; awarding Slumdog Millionaire Best Picture in 2009, it has spent the intervening years tweaking and perfecting the formula (from its British origins). I expect to see more films that are essentially Made in Hollywood (writing, greenlighting, financing, directing, marketing), but which tackle "indigenous" subjects that facilitate the picture being set, cast and filmed abroad. Such films would be American in the ways that really count, yet have that veneer of being “from” somewhere else … the perfect combination it seems in this epoch.