Written by Duncan Day-Myron

Ah, the Oscars. The conflation of so many of my favourite things: betting, watching movies and judging people. Like the Super Bowl, it’s such a celebration of excess, with millions of dollars spent on something most people would probably be watching even if it was held under a tent in a field in Iowa.
The Academy switched it up in a few ways this year, although unfortunately not in any ways that will make the broadcast shorter. The Best Picture category was expanded from five nominees to a whopping 10, in part to accommodate films that wouldn’t normally be considered for the award. I’m sure the producers of The Blind Side are eternally grateful.
The voting for that award is a little different, too. While everything else is still a simple whichever-gets-the-most-votes-wins affair, Academy voters have to take the 10 nominees and organize them from favourite to least favourite, which are then scored accordingly. It may not sound like a big deal, but it could drastically affect future results: if, say, 30 per cent of voters picked one movie as a favourite, in past years it would likely win. Now, if that same 30 per cent liked one movie, but then 99 per cent of people liked another movie second best, that could turn the tables. It will probably mean less controversial and polarizing Best Picture wins (I’m looking at you, Crash) with more populist films, ones that a lot of people liked but maybe not loved, could stand a chance. And this year, the term ‘populist film’ should provoke a single reaction: Avatar.
James Cameron’s billion dollar blockbuster, with unprecedented special effects and a narrative that has been almost ritualistically chided for being unoriginal, was seemingly calculated to have mass appeal. Most people who didn’t enjoy it on some level are probably not being wholly honest. It was a bombastic love affair with filmmaking, just one that didn’t really leave you asking questions or having conversations about it after it was over. It was an unlikely candidate for best picture, but no movie this year was as successful, positively reviewed, culturally significant or will have the longevity. It might be the first time where a movie won Hollywood’s biggest honour for reasons outside of pure artistry.
Unfortunately for Sandra Bullock, Best Picture is the only category for which the voting rules have changed. If that weren’t the case, even-money would be on her winning. Even though she’s up against perennial nominee but seldom winner, Meryl Streep (the greatest actor alive), her stiffest competition is probably Gabourey Sidibe, the unknown who turned out a tear-jerking performance in Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire with no experience or formal training. Sidibe has taken to the talk show circuit with a bubbly, upbeat personality, which was the antithesis of her character in Push. If anything, that has helped her cause. Academy voters love when a then-relatively unknown, or unrecognized, actor pulls off some Stanislavksy feat of “becoming the character.” It’s the same deal with her co-star Mo’Nique. It wouldn’t be all that shocking if they both won.
The male acting categories aren’t nearly as interesting as the females. There aren’t any clear frontrunners, or any contentious nominees. Christoph Waltz is probably the closest thing to a runaway in either the lead or supporting category, if only because it’s the only award which Inglourious Basterds has a real chance of winning. Jeff Bridges is a perennial loser and a great actor, so there’s a lot of support behind his nomination. But Morgan Freeman was born to play Nelson Mandela, and Jeremy Renner, George Clooney and Colin Firth’s performances were just as strong and nuanced as Bridges. Renner has the underdog advantage, which seems like it would be an oxymoron anywhere but the Oscars, but no matter which way the award goes, it won’t be too strong of an upset.
My biggest passion, however, is with the Best Animated Feature category. The category was expanded from three to five nominees this year and I couldn’t think of a better year for it.
Coraline and Fantastic Mr. Fox breathed new life into stop-motion animation, a previously near-dead art form, and were both visually breathtaking: Coraline’s technicolour imagery alternated beautifully between macabre and whimsical, and Fox’s picturesque countryside was nothing short of magical. And both movies took children’s stories by masters of the genre and translated them into film in ways that expanded, cleaned up and, dare I say, improved on the source material.
The Princess and the Frog and The Secret of Kells were also artistic resurrections, testaments to the longevity of traditional hand-drawn animation. Princess was stylish, with big, beautiful Art Deco inspired musical numbers, and was probably the first Disney “princess” movie not to be a total slap in the face to decades of feminism: Tiana is a BAMF (that’s badass motherfucker) who knows what she wants and will sacrifice it for no man.
Kells is definitely the underdog, not even having a wide release in North America yet. Hopefully the nomination is enough to get it some more attention from critics and audiences. It is so thoroughly unique, with incredibly detailed landscapes with visible brushstrokes and vibrant colour. The entire movie is just teeming with creativity and artistic revelation. There haven’t been animated characters this expressive and stylish since Tex Avery. It doesn’t stand a chance of winning, but it deserves the nomination more than any other on the list.
Then there’s Up. The only animated feature nominated for Best Picture makes it seem like a shoo-in for the Animated category. Up was a quality film, no doubt. At this point, Pixar seem incapable of making a bad movie. It broke all sorts of box office records for animated films, and kids and parents went nuts for it. But, it doesn’t deserve to win.
On multiple viewings, it doesn’t ever give up anything new. The story is slapdash and at times feeling like two half-baked ideas stuck end to end. It is just dripping with so much sentimentality that it disguises these shortcomings. Essentially everything we feel about Carl, the main character, is set up in a saccharine montage at the movie’s outset. Then, the occasional shot of a photo of Carl’s wife stirs it all up again and reminds us why we’re continuing to sit through the plodding, uninventive narrative. It losing would be a huge upset to a lot of people, but my fingers are crossed that any of the other films are called.
So, those are my thoughts, and I’m sure anyone reading this has their own too. So take a break from studying and stop by TheOntarion.ca and share your thoughts on cartoons, on Avatar, and even the important categories I didn’t get to talk about, namely writing and directing.