Awards are for Winners?

In response to "Festival Films Have Minimalist Themes" by Michael Cieply, from the New York Times; "A Golden Age of Foreign Films, Mostly Unseen" by A.O. Scott; an interview with TCM host Robert Osborne at AVClub.com.

Awards season has set upon us again with the usual fervor. There are top ten lists. There are anti-top ten list essays. There are insults and compliments. There are tuxedos, golden men, best dressed lists and occasionally, movies. There's Sundance kicking off another year of seemingly countless movie festivals. There is anger and fury and love and pining of epic proportions. But I constantly come back to questioning the point of it all.

Perhaps the point is the award or the accolade, or what they really represent: acceptance, impression, a figurative pat on the back. Maybe people don't create art to win, but they certainly don't want to lose. No one wants there work to be deemed irrelevant. A Razzie might be better than the ever filling, bottomless chasm of mediocrity. Robert Osborne certainly believes in the power of the Golden Statue. In a recent interview with The A.V. Club, Robert Osborne responds to a question about the appeal of the Oscars to him by saying, "It's the great endorsement of the work being done in the movies. Not that we have that many great movies, but I believe we wouldn't have as many as we do if there wasn't an Oscar to shoot for." I never expected such cringe-worthy talk from Mr. Osborne. The man is a veritable living encyclopedia of the history of cinema, a harbinger of the power and importance of film and its everlasting resonance. Yet he thinks that the Oscar is the goal, is the bar by which standards are set. Any artist, in any medium is not setting out to win awards. It's the journey, not the destination. And anyway, the destination is not an award; it's a finished piece of art. It's a living extension of the artist. Osborne then goes on to say that the Academy Award is "the real goal" after a director gone on to "be successful and make some money." An Oscar is certainly the highest credential that a filmmaker could have on their resume. It can afford the filmmaker chance to work with people they couldn't have otherwise. It can be the cushion between a once praised filmmaker and their now crappy films. (I'm looking at you Mr. Coppola.) It opens doors. But is this really the goal?

Furthermore, let's talk about whose giving out the awards. The Academy? The Hollywood Foreign Press Association? These are the bodies that filmmakers and actors and editors and writers and all collaborators trust their work with? How many articles and general knowledge must be passed around about the dubious nature of these bodies and their decisions before we stop taking them seriously. It's the Pro Bowl, the All Star Game. It's a fucking formality. While the recognition is greeted with appreciation, consider the source. These organizations are so out of touch with the growing number of films being produced around the world. How do the Oscars only have five spots for the Best Foreign Film category? Why only one film per country? Why the language restrictions? A.O. Scott writes in a recent article from the New York Times entitled, A Golden Age of Foreign Films, Mostly Unseen, about the "peculiar and growing irrelevance of world cinema in American movie culture, which the Academy Awards help to perpetuate." I find this to be generally true. The average American moviegoer knows little of world cinema. They may know some of the Academy's choices for Best Foreign Film or they may know some older foreign films from the French New Wave or maybe a Kurosawa picture. But beyond that there is no knowledge, or interest for that matter. However, I diverge from Mr. Scott, in that, I think that with programs like Netflix, Video On Demand, and the internet in general, there has never been a greater connection to world cinema. There is a fringe element of fanboys and cinephiles and art enthusiasts around the world who are interested, who want to talk about it, and write about it, and view it. World cinema that is. It's not slowing down and films are coming from everywhere, places never expected: Romania for example. So when the potential for exposure to new types of cinema and new stories we haven't heard arises, where are we? Well, most have their heads in the sand, while some peer into the distant brightness trying to see what they can see. That much cannot be said for the illustrious institutions which set the standards for what we call great cinema, or award worthy.

Michael Cieply's article from the New York Times about the minimalist trend in films submitted to the South by Southwest festival touches on another trend in cinema. One which is in direct correlation with the economic state of things. Janet Pierson, a producer for the festival is quoted saying, "There is an economy of means at play. With the slightest of means they can grip you." Films are being made by those with the know-how but not necessarily the means. They're stripping it down, bringing it back to the core elements of story, characterization. In many cases using setting to tell a great story with little cost. Buried for instance, stars Ryan Reynolds in a coffin. It doesn't get more minimal. This is what we used to go to the movies for. Now we go for robots that turn into camaros and Pocahontas in space. All the CGI and 3D streaming digitally pales in comparison to genuine human conflict and competent storytelling. And now, with the internet, we have the information, the know-how. We can make it work because we want to. For the film's sake, for the story. Not for the trophy. In craft and especially in art, we are not competition, but conversation.