Keeping 'Memento' In Mind

Why bother to complain about the Oscars?

Why bother indeed, when these measures of cinematic merit mean very little? This year’s political hardball concerning A Beautiful Mind’s campaign reminds us that even when the right people waltz away with the right statuettes, their victories are more often the result of behind-the-scenes chicanery than mere onscreen magic. Unfortunately, many of the more excellent films do not have the resources to compete for Academy votes on the same level as Hollywood’s studio behemoths, who often simply decide to put all their eggs in one basket. The Coen Brothers’ The Man Who Wasn’t There, for example, may have been more heavily marketed in other years, but its distributor, USA Pictures, has instead decided to throw all of its support behind the more critic-friendly Gosford Park. As a result, only Roger Deakins’ superior cinematography is being considered for Sunday’s awards. But what determines which of the truly entertaining films deserve studio support—or, for that matter, which films can get nominated at all?

Christopher Nolan’s Memento, one of the better films of the past year, never had a chance at a Best Picture nomination. Partially because it was a film that simply kept it too real for Oscar consideration, but mostly, because it refused to obey several cardinal rules:

1. Get just the right amount of star power. Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe shared the screen as relative unknowns in 1997’s L.A. Confidential, but Crowe’s stock has skyrocketed since then. You want to have one dominant name on your marquee—Crowe and Moulin Rouge’s Nicole Kidman are good starts. Gosford Park, meanwhile, is hurt by an ensemble cast that doesn’t allow for individual recognition, save Helen Mirren’s outstanding final 15 minutes. Interestingly, The Royal Tenenbaums—with names like Gene Hackman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Anjelica Huston and Ben Stiller—was burned by its excess of star power. Memento, with Pearce and two actors with little more than The Matrix on their resumes, was at an instant disadvantage.

Star power also works retroactively. Russell Crowe’s win for Gladiator was aided by past overlooked performances in L.A. Confidential and The Insider. Controversy surrounding The Hurricane two years ago may have cost Denzel Washington a Best Actor trophy two years ago—and Hollywood is feeling bad about it at just the right time.

2. Don’t be too original. Yes, there is a “Best Original Screenplay” category, but the Academy really isn’t too big on original thought. Give us Frodo. Give us three standard relationship stories, but with a tragic twist to them. Make one about schizophrenic mathematician John Nash. Give another one of them a midlife crisis. Make one of them a smitten William Shakespeare. Then, put them on the Titanic. Or, borrow something else that is already favorably positioned in the American consciousness. Who doesn’t love Lord of the Rings?

3. Don’t demand too much of your audience. Thinking man’s movies—recall 1999’s Being John Malkovich and Three Kings—are great for college kids, but aren’t the way to go if you want to win an award. Sizing up the prospects of a number of Oscar hopefuls, The New York Times wrote Memento off in two words: “Too baffling.” For aside from the “aww” noises from the girls who do say “aww” all the time, a movie can’t ask for meaningful responses from its audience, such as critical thought, self-criticism or—God forbid—temporary confusion. Instead, give them The Hobbit. Or give them Gosford Park, a film whose British accents do not mask its simplicity both as a drama and as a mystery.

4. Be the “it film” at the right time of the year. Memento hit the U.S. last March, far too early in the Oscar calendar for it to remain in the minds of fickle voters. Especially since, as Rule 3 suggests, remembering it would have made their heads hurt. With the 60 Minutes feature on Nash last Sunday—a mere two days before Oscar ballots were due—A Beautiful Mind is getting just the right amount of attention at the right time. The publicity it has received has only pushed the other nominees further and further from the public consciousness.

There are exceptions to all of these rules, of course. Gladiator was an early release as well, and Schindler’s List was more an experience than a film. But, given more space, one could easily construct a more elaborate set of rules that would cover every Best Picture winner dating back two decades.

Someone ought to produce an awards show for movies that simply keep it too real to win Academy Awards. Memento, Tenenbaums and The Man Who Wasn’t There would top this year’s list. A “Best Ensemble Cast” statue would be awarded. The telecast would last a mere two hours. And we would all be unhappy anyway—left with nothing to complain about.