Once upon a time in Hollywood, a movie could win the Oscar for Best Picture and be culturally popular at the same time. Movies like “Titanic,” “Braveheart,” “Ben-Hur,” “Forest Gump,” and “The Godfather” come to mind.
And those are just the winners. Beyond that, there exists a whole archive of popular films that have enjoyed the privilege of simply being nominated for Best Picture, some of which have surpassed the legacies of the victors. “Star Wars” lost to “Annie Hall.” “Raiders of the Lost Ark” lost to “Chariots of Fire.” “E.T.” lost to “Gandhi.” “Pulp Fiction” lost to “Forest Gump.” The list goes on.
In 1939, three of the nominated films became instant classics: “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” “The Wizard of Oz,” and “Gone with the Wind.” In 2018, however, the gap between popular and quality movies has widened so immensely that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS) has now created an entirely new category to include “Best Popular Film.”
In an official announcement on Wednesday, AMPAS said the Oscars will be cleaning house for next year and adding a few changes to the show. Those changes include shorter showtimes, an early date broadcast, and the new category.
Exactly no details have been provided as to what rubrics will be in place for a movie to qualify in “Best Popular Film.” Box office returns? Audience polling? General enthusiasm? The Academy only states they will specify those at a later date.
Hollywood has come to this pitiful moment for one reason: THE. MOVIES. ARE. EMOTIONAL. WASTELANDS.
Let’s take a show of hands, shall we? Since 2006, when Scorsese’s “The Departed” took home the Oscar for Best Picture, can anyone name a single movie they have repeatedly watched? The kind of movie that holds the attention from start to finish once every few years? I can already guess them: all Christopher Nolan movies and maybe a few from Quentin Tarantino or David Fincher or David O. Russell or Adam McKay, all of whom entered the film industry in the early or late-’90s before the industry moved to the franchise business model.
On the flipside, the summer blockbusters haven’t fared much better. Sure, box office returns for Marvel and Disney movies continue to break records, but overall sales have declined, which has only driven up ticket prices. The money might be there, but the audience continues to shrink. Why? Because the movies no longer generate an emotional catharsis.
While the Marvel films certainly dazzle the senses for 2-plus hours, few people can argue leaving a Marvel movie with the same emotional elation as they do in a movie like “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” An even stronger argument could be made for the “Star Wars” sequels. DC all but destroyed its brand with “Justice League.”
What differentiates those movies from that of “The Terminator” or even “The Dark Knight” is they feel less like movies and more like glorified television shows. Bottom line: they just don’t build to a meaningful climax. There’s no suspense because we already know that Spiderman or Iron Man or Black Panther will overcome their nemesis no matter how great or dire the cliffhanger. Like any television show, we instinctively know that next week’s episode will set the universe right again.
With the exception of Christopher Nolan and Ryan Coogler, the directors of these movies also offer no unique vision. In any classic, you get a sense that the filmmakers carefully crafted something for their audience to enjoy. You get a sense that Spielberg really wanted to make “Jaws” or that James Cameron really wanted to make “Titanic” or that Peter Jackson really wanted to make “Lord of the Rings.” No such experience exists with the modern blockbuster.
Is there really any difference in quality between the “Star Wars” sequels, the Marvel movies, and “Jurassic World”? As products of executive committees, they look the same, feel same, and sound the same. Some are indeed slicker and more entertaining than others, but none of them actually rise above a mere amusement park ride.
Movies that tell great stories have now become the minority, outnumbered by two increasingly emboldened camps of filmmaking: shameless commercialism and political propaganda. The blockbusters are the former and the Oscar-bait films are the latter.
Should Hollywood continue down this road by shelving original scripts, killing the mid-budget feature, and mistaking ideological agendas for dramatic tension, the audiences will continue to fracture and the days when Americans came together in appreciation of a single cultural event will be gone with the wind. Rob Lowe has the last word: