Bold statement
‘Outrage fatigue’ at the Oscars? (It’s not over yet)
Every time you think the outrage factor has peaked, they pull you back in.
I’m talking about the Oscars, which in my distracted, awardssaturated state, I had blithely assumed would serve as a perfunctory punctuation mark to the slew of pre-Oscar award shows that served as early predictors of success.
The Golden Globes — which resulted in an “Oprah For President” meme — were a #MeToo showcase that saw actresses speak out against decades of sexual abuse.
The Screen Actors Guild Awards, with its lineup of allfemale presenters, focused on gender inequality.
And the Grammys, stumbling along as if it were 1974, dropped the ball on female representation and ended with calls for the Recording Academy president’s head on a platter. Ouch.
The problem at this point is that even if you’re in sympathy with these worthy causes, you may find yourself experiencing Outrage Fatigue.
To grab attention, the Oscars can’t merely mimic what’s come before.
They have to make a bold statement that feels organic, speaks to the moment and breaks new ground in the cultural conversation about redressing injustice.
But here’s the problem: On the eve of the “90th Academy Awards” (8 p.m. Sunday on ABC), front-line executives are doing everything they can to employ Operation Buzzkill.
“We certainly want to honour and respect Time’s Up and allow that message to be heard,” Channing Dungey, president of ABC Entertainment, told media of the movement to end sexual harassment in the corridors of power.
“But we’re trying to make it more planned than spur -of-themoment.
“I would love for every award recipient to not feel like they have to acknowledge it independently.”
Ha, ha. This is a cagey response to a complex issue.
Loosely translated, it means: “You red carpet divas better not hijack our broadcast with your red state baiting about sexual harassment, racism and equal rights for women. We have ratings points at stake.”
Sure, the Academy would like to be on the right side of history after embarrassing #OscarsSoWhite protests about the underrepresentation of people of colour in major categories.
They would like to affirm support for the #MeToo movement, which is why last year’s Best Actor winner, Casey Affleck — whose past is rife with sexual assault allegations — will be persona non grata.
But frankly, after last year’s
orgy of self-appreciation drew the second lowest numbers since Nielsen started tracking in 1974, ABC needs every viewer it can get.
And according to Academy insiders, every time a celebrity makes a fist-pumping speech to rally the troops about social injustice, the stupefied, Doritomunching masses sigh heavily and change the channel.
“This show is not about reliving people’s sexual assaults,” returning host Jimmy Kimmel told ABC News, informed that a poll revealed 94 per cent of women in Hollywood have been sexually harassed or assaulted.
“It’s for people who have been dreaming about winning an Oscar their whole lives. The last thing I want to do is ruin that by making it unpleasant. I’m not going to stop any bad behaviour with my jokes.”
Is Kimmel running scared? Not to worry.
As we saw with last year’s Envelopegate, when the coveted Best Picture award was given to the wrong movie (“La La Land”) before Academy boneheads corrected the faux pas (sorry about that, “Moonlight”), Oscar never follows the rules anyway.
“Who am I to say what they should and should not get to say?” producer Jennifer Todd told media, conceding the inevitable.
“As a producer of the show, our only hope is that the speeches are emotional and really excite the room and aren’t read off a piece of paper.”
Which brings us to the other issue facing this 90-year-old doyenne of doddering cultural neglect: Most of the films nominated for top awards hold little interest for the 98 per cent of filmgoers who haven’t seen them.
Of the nine candidates for Best Picture, only two — “Get Out” and “Dunkirk” — were bona fide commercial hits.
Only three, including “Get Out” (a scathing parody of liberal white hypocrisy), “The Post” (a historic response to the Trumpian assault on democracy) and “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” (a ticked-off morality tale about the power of unprincipled resistance) speak to a specific cultural moment.
Films like “Call Me By Your Name” and “Darkest Hour” — worthy efforts that drew audiences small enough to fit in a phone booth — are meaningless to the swath of filmgoers who likely also haven’t seen underachievers like “Lady Bird” and “Phantom Thread.”
Nor does it help the Academy that the biggest film of the moment — “Black Panther,” a paradigm-shifting blockbuster that will be remembered 50 years from now — overshadows every film up for a major award but is nominated for nothing (it will be eligible next year).
It also doesn’t help that the winners in every major category — with the possible exception of Best Picture — have been preordained by the festoon of preOscar award ceremonies that have pinpointed, with little room for error, who will take home what and what they will say on the podium.
At this point, who really wants to see Gary Oldman deliver a reprise of his fake humble Golden Globes speech about being “honestly and truly thrilled and overjoyed ... deeply, deeply honoured and proud to receive this magnificent award” when he accepts his Best Actor award for “Darkest Hour”?
Wasn’t it just four years ago he was telling Playboy how political correctness was ruining America and claiming, in defence of his pal Mel Gibson, that Hollywood is “a town that's run by Jews”?
No one is yakking in my ear about how Oldman’s time has come at last (“Gary who?”).
No one is haranguing me at the water cooler about the brilliance of Frances McDormand (nominated as Best Actress) or Sam Rockwell (Best Supporting Actor) in “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri,” or Allison Janney (Best Supporting Actress) in “I, Tonya,” all of whom will likely walk off with top honours.
And whether or not “The Shape of Water’s” Guillermo del Toro wins the Best Director prize, as statisticians predict, is of little consequence to the affable schlubs I run into at the chiropractor’s office.
It doesn’t help that, by early March, people have burned out on awards shows in general.
Or that the only real race is for Best Picture, with the dreamlike “Water” — a homage to 1950s monster movies that contains a squirmy interspecies sex scene — facing off against the incendiary “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri,” which takes on racism and sexism with a scorched-earth policy some filmgoers may find over the top.
Which will win?
Let me put it this way: “Water” has a domestic box office take of $55 million — far below the threshold for public awareness — while “Three Billboards” weighs in at $50 million.
From the public’s point of view, it doesn’t matter.
“I hope the audience has watched the (nominated films),” Kimmel told USA Today after sensing a disconnect last year.
“It’s hard to do a joke if people don’t know what the reference is.” So what are we left with? TV host Ryan Seacrest on the red carpet denying that he sexually harassed his former assistant?
A glorified fashion show? A dying elephant smacking its head against a wall of obstreperous indifference?
“I think the first most impressive thing I recall from the Oscars is when Roberto Benigni walked on top of the seats,” Kimmel told Deadline of the Italian director’s memorable ’98 Oscar win.
“I was like, who is this man? Who would do something like that? You watch that and you’re like, that’s a special person, someone who should be in front of the camera. When I think back on Oscar memories that’s the one that sticks with me.
“The worst-case scenario is that everything goes according to plan. Because that equals boring.”
Score one for the Oscars. They may be incompetent, tone deaf and out to lunch.
But they never go according to plan.