What This Year's Oscars Mean for Hollywood
The Atlantic
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March 8, 2010
By Lynda Obst
It
was when The Hurt Locker won Best Adapted Screenplay that the sweep began. A discerning viewer had only to
wait for Best Editing to see where the Academy was going, even if it took a
while to get there. If any love had been thrown Quentin’s way, it would have
been there. But, no…By the time Hurt Locker won its first important showdown with Avatar—
in Editing, where its differences were most stark (they’re two totally
different styles: one completely pre-planned shot for shot, the other relying
on thousands of feet of raw footage, cut together in post-production)—the
direction of the night was inexorable. Throughout the season you could sense
it at all the Academy events: Hurt
Locker was gaining in momentum, and everything else was receding.
Apart
from Kathryn appearing almost to ascend into heaven, hegira-like, with Marc
Boal, her co-producer, beau, and screenwriter, having to grasp her tightly by the
arm as if to tie her to earth as they eclipsed Avatar in the evenings topper, there were a few other
stunners as well - most notably, the shut-out of Up in the Air, which seemed to have
been a critics, and not an Academy picture.
The
show did some overt pandering to what we call the four quadrants: it replaced
the beloved (to women of a certain age - i.e. “upper female quadrant”)
Hugh Jackman with a buddy comedy of older men (one funny, one-hottish);
and it brought teen-throbs Taylor Lautner, Kristin Stewart and Miley Cyrus out
for the lower male and female quadrants. But it couldn't overcome its Las Vegas
showgirl clutter, particularly in its garish and unnecessary opening number,
undercutting the excellence of the writing.
Some
bloggers wagged that maybe Avatar lost Best Picture because the Academy still hates Cameron for his "King of
the World" moment. But I think that’s wholly wrong. If The Hurt Locker hadn't captured the
spirit of the kind of auteur film that Academy-type audiences learn most from
and feel most connected to, Avatar surely would have won. Its way of connecting us urgently to our soldiers
- the same soldiers who are standing behind the colonel in Avatar - simply felt newer.
The
most important consequence of the Oscar Race is how it affects the movies we
make, and in that regard, Avatar won before the awards were even doled out. There will not be hundreds of Iraq movies pitched
this week. Three-dimensional extravaganzas on the other hand are the order of
the decade, and perhaps beyond. With the record-shattering opening of Alice in Wonderland 3D on Oscar weekend
(not even up to Avatar technology!) it seems as though the whole world has fallen down the 3D rabbit
hole, and the industry is tumbling with it. One can foresee, given our industry’s
customary “originality,” that we’ll now see 3D remakes of every movie ever
made, from The Sound of Music to Terminator 5. Dead
franchises will be reborn. And just maybe, with a little serendipity, a few
great filmmakers will also make up some new stuff, borne of the essence of three-dimensionality.
WE HAD A LITTLE crime and punishment kerfuffle
in town this week - one that ended up with the Academy meting out the
cruel and unusual punishment of banning one of Hurt Locker’s four producers from the Oscar ceremony. The
crime consisted of producer Nick Chartier having sent out a private email to
his friends, exhorting them to vote for his little indie against that studio
behemoth with all the power behind it (no names mentioned…)
Now,
explicit politicking is banned by the academy, though writing to your friends
is not. There is a way to
politick subtly, though, and Summit, Hurt
Locker’s distributor had been doing it just right, with its perfect
publicists getting word out about the movie and “friends of the filmmakers”
hosting a series of private parties. (This is what everyone does.) All was
going gangbusters. The last Hurt
Locker party I attended, at mogul Guy Oserary’s house for Jeremy
Renner, at the peak of the voting season, was so chic, exclusive, and full of
stars, that it rivaled anything this Friday night. Nick Chartier’s faux pas was
simply so naive that he was pounced on like some kind of leper, in a crazy
over-reaction.
The
funny thing is that in years past, studios, or their outside publicists have
secretly leaked the worst things about competing movies during heated Oscar
campaigns. But those leaks can’t be traced. Remember those terrible stories
about the abuses of the slum kids in Slumdog
Millionaire last year - which came out, interestingly enough,
during the voting? It happens all the time. Anyway, poor Mssr. Chartier, the
guy who bought the movie when everyone else had passed, put his house on the
line to complete the financing of the picture, and helped lift Kathryn out of a
career low point to her now-lofty perch of first female Best Director, was
forced to watch the movie, like us, at home, with a family party.
FRIDAY PRETTY MUCH much turned out to be Rest
Night for the exhausted movie stars. But for non-nominated stars, moguls,
managers, agents, and friends, it was a big night out—kind of an “I
survived and thrived another year. So how the heck are you??” kind of night. So it was my
evening to dress up, buy a new dress and go out. It was Sandy Bullock’s
night to hang in PJs.
My
favorite quote from the Friday night parties was by Jon Landau, producer of Avatar. He was one of only two nominees I
saw out and about (the other was Morgan Freeman). When I asked Jon if he was
happy about Avatar’s
astonishing run, he answered, “I’ll be happy Monday. If Jim and I had
known we would still be working this hard in March, we wouldn’t have believed
it. This is nonstop.”
Between
you and me? He looked happy.
BY SUNDAY afternoon, word was that the hottest
ticket in town was not Graydon’s, but the previously unknown Nick Chartier’s
home party. Everyone was vying to get in. I also heard he was greeted like a
star at Ari Emanuel’s WME party, but I wouldn’t have recognized him.
Now
that the industry, if not the Academy, is rallying around him, I think I'll
call Mssr. Chartier today and see when he's free for lunch.