Seal of Approval

I tend to have a prejudice against all awards, be it the proudly middlebrow Academy Awards or the proudly highbrow Cannes. I have met too many people who have served on juries for film festivals throughout Europe and America and heard too many hilarious stories to take the final decisions rendered with any grain of seriousness. Almost every award is based on the biases, prejudices, and tastes of the select few group of people who hand them out. I also question the anger or righteousness with which people talk about awards, particularly the Oscars. If you like a movie, what do you care whether or not a committee bestows an honor on it? Do you really need a seal of approval for your personal tastes? And I hate the way the Oscar discussion kills what could be a far more interesting conversation: “I loved seeing Michael Caine in Harry Brown. Do you think he could get a Best Actor Oscar for this? I mean that would be the first time he ever won a Best Actor Oscar. He usually gets supporting roles…”

Within the context of African-Americans and the Academy Awards, we are of course faced with very different stakes that we should not ignore. Despite the noted improvement of the last 20 years, there has always been a general lack of good parts available to black actors and actresses, and a pityingly low number of inside-Hollywood black filmmakers. If the Academy Awards do matter for African-Americans, they matter as a barometer for black accomplishment. The Oscars have honored some spectacular artists throughout the years, but they have also elevated truly awful performances. African-American artists will have achieved success in Hollywood when they are consistently honored for the same level of mediocrity as their white counterparts in the industry. On that note, of all the African-American artists to have won so far, Halle Berry’s win marks the greatest story. She won the award for a sub-par performance based on the same criteria for which several other actresses have won the award in the past. She was a beautiful woman who played someone unglamorous. And she gave an appropriately effusive speech, one that the members of the Academy were hoping she would give. She honored the memory of Dorothy Dandridge…then she thanked her manager. She played the game absolutely perfectly and she was rewarded for her efforts.

Jeffrey Wright is probably the best actor, white or black, I know of to be completely ignored by the Oscars. Much can be said for the disparate images of blackness he exudes as the dignified investigative lawyer-turned-cynical opportunist in Syriana, as the coolly sexual Muddy Waters in Cadillac Records, as the undercover CIA agent Felix in Daniel Craig’s James Bond movies. Racism may or may not be the reason he’s never been appropriately honored. Perhaps he’s too quiet an actor, the kind who can be the best thing in a movie without stealing scenes from his cast-mates, to be recognized. The Academy tends to have a bias for scenery-chewers. But I believe any of his roles can engender a conversation well beyond, “Do you think this may be Wright’s year? He has some stiff competition from the great veteran Michael Caine.”