Oscar's Lessons
"Critical responses to Heartbreakers, Say It Isn't So, The Brothers, and other current features."
Jeffrey Overstreet | posted 3/01/2001 12:00AM
Hollywood has once again declared the Best Picture of the Year, and guess what it chose? The cliché-heavy revenge story. When Gladiator came out, critics gave little indication that this was anything more than a solid popcorn movie based on an earlier film called The Fall of the Roman Empire. Borrowing context and importance from epics like Spartacus and Braveheart, Gladiator abbreviates its own storytelling to make room for elaborate scenes of violent carnage. Maybe its genre or its spectacular historical backdrop made Academy voters swoon, but it would have been more appropriate to honor a film that takes us somewhere we haven't been and that has more than crowd-pleasing on its mind. (In other words, any of the other nominated films … and several more besides.) Even more inexplicably, they gave Russell Crowe an Oscar for his gruff performance as the gladiator, rather than honor the astonishing range and humanity exhibited in career-best performances by Ed Harris (Pollock), Tom Hanks (Cast Away), or Michael Douglas (Wonder Boys), who wasn't even nominated.
Sigh. Oh well. My complaints are nothing new, and will probably make little difference. Criticizing the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has become a national pastime. We all know the ceremony is flawed, self-congratulatory, superficial, and mixed up with money and power. And the media that packages the Oscars is as interested in skimpy outfits as it is in appreciating excellence. I've heard many people asking, "Why pay attention at all? It's so meaningless … what's the point?"
Despite how the Oscars frustrate me, I cannot write off Oscar-watching as a waste of time. There is value in seeing a community show appreciation to a hard-working artist (when that actually happens.) We all love the joy on the winner's face. It can be genuinely moving to see artists applauded in front of a large crowd of their peers, many of whom are the folks that inspired them. While it is unhealthy to strive for the approval of others, it is a wonderful thing to offer thanks and appreciation to someone for a job well done. It is something we don't do for each other enough.
This year especially, the speeches were inspiring, heartfelt, and even dramatic. They challenged us to be creative, to persevere in pursuit of our dreams. Traffic director Steven Soderbergh skipped the usual thank yous and dedicated his Oscar to anyone who spends part of the day "creating." Russell Crowe's speech sought to encourage aspiring talents in the suburbs who don't believe their wildest dreams can come true. Famous producer Dino de Laurentiis focused his clout and integrity into a challenge, asking studios to be bold and explore new talents and voices. He's right in reminding us that many people have something valuable to share, no matter where they live, how rich or how poor.
And Steve Martin made this ceremony even more worthwhile. His sharp-edged humor showed up Oscar for the superficial, commercial venture that it tends to be. At last, a little honesty in the spotlight.
There are other reasons to watch this annual spectacle. We can learn a lot about how to tell stories effectively by keeping an eye on what moves, inspires, and excites people. Gladiator, for all of its clichés, worked. It is an age-old formula. Moses confronts Pharaoh, and the suffering people are released. Joseph, by integrity, ascends to leadership. Maximus is a compelling hero. And the villain Commodus loses even when he thinks he's won, made a fool by his own pride and cowardice. Excesses and shoddiness aside, Gladiator reveals a few glimmers of the truth—that pride comes before a fall, and that the man who lays down his life for his friends is a hero indeed.
March (Web-only) 2001, Vol. 45