Edward Norton has ideas about how to “fix” awards season

The awards community is abuzz about some comments made by Edward Norton regarding the Oscars. He has a lot to say on the topic, including how hard it is to work an awards season that lasts seven months, “once a film gets channeled by the industry into that death grip of marketing via the springboard of the awards season, it’s this repetitive grind of promoting something that runs essentially from the end of the New York Film Festival to the end of February. Who wants to spend that much time talking about anything?”

Much of what Norton says is right on the money, like: “I think the awards season has become this thing that has metastisized. I think something unholy has happened: The Academy is a group of people who make films — six or 7,000 people who are the core of the industry. That’s a thing completely unto itself. Past that, every single thing that transpires between November and February is awards created by bodies of critics, whether it’s the Hollywood Foreign Press with the Golden Globes, the National Board of Review, the New York Film Critics Circle or the L.A. one. Critics Choice. It goes on and on. Unfortunately, the reality of what’s happened is that what started off on an almost academic and critical-slash-journalist footing has — more than people want to acknowledge — become a game of monetization.”

He gets it that award season has become monetized. He gets it that any amount of prestige is worth investing thousands of dollars. It hardly matters whether you’re talking about the Gothams or the Oscars or the Golden Globes. Studios need to have that golden prestige on their lobby posters in order to help sell some of their movies. They need that prestige emblazoned on a poster as the official seal of approval to ensure enough of the right people will watch their movie — from industry voters to regular old folks out there in the world. The race is competitive and for whatever reason (watch Mad Men to find out) advertising works.

I do have a problem with his solution:

I’ve talked about this with some people. I think the Academy could do things. Nobody in the industry cares about any of it except the Academy, which carries weight, because they’re peers. The rest of it is seen as a dog and pony show. The Academy, which is a private organization, could save the industry by saying, “It’s our award and we can do whatever we want.” They could say that any film putting out paid solicitation ads of any kind — all these for your consideration ads that cost millions and millions of dollars, which just solicit awards — they could say that any film using them is disqualified from the Academy Awards. It would end it overnight.

Edward Norton is absolutely right that this is how things are from his perspective, or from anyone’s perspective who gets scripts and projects with relative ease.  So it would be easy for him to dismiss the whole thing – the ads, the publicity, the baby kissing, the ass kissing. I’m sure he would never dream of sucking the Broadcast Film Critics’ collective asses during awards season. I’m sure, to him, that would sully the whole experience of creating art. Man, I totally get it.

He might not know that for many filmmakers, it isn’t so easy to break through. Women, for instance, or black filmmakers, or black female filmmakers — for these people, a single award season can transform their entire careers. For someone like Patricia Arquette who was valued when she was young and hot but then ignored when she hit her 40s. Winning Oscar for her meant something — it was validation. But I get that all this might not mean as much to Edward Norton. It isn’t going to help guys like him who are already at the top of the list, guys who might have to compete for the plum roles but are never going to be entirely squeezed out. Artists need leverage to make deals, earn money and become more familiar to the public. Is it worth a few months of tireless baby-kissing to build that kind of clout? That’s a personal decision. Maybe to someone who’s done it so many times before, the thought of doing it again causes spasms of PTSD. Fine; opt out. It’s an easy enough choice to make. But for Norton to try to unilaterally decree that it’s best for everyone, I personally think is misguided. Sure, easy for me to say because without the annual influx of FYC ads there is no AwardsDaily. But really, beyond that, I’ve seen too many careers transformed at lifted to the next level by awards season to think it should all go away. Many many white male filmmakers enjoy the good fortune to be ushered in on a carefully adorned ceremonial elephant and given the golden key to the crapper. Women and filmmakers of color – not so much.

Getting rid of the support structure for industry awards would relinquish the rules of game into the hands of the very people in control of the scripts and the deals who already sit in the powerful catbird seats throughout Hollywood. As it stands now, any filmmaker or distributor, no matter their size, can publicize their films by doing interviews or creating compelling ads (many of which are personally financed). With tools like these at their disposal, along with a shitty precursor award early on in the race, the playing field can very nearly be leveled in order for smaller films to stand up the big studio juggernauts that may not need to advertise to win awards to make money.

Funny story: back in the 1930s, in the early days of the Academy, the Oscars kind of got off on the wrong foot. They were known for being a popularity contest, money driven, and very much an insider’s game. That is, you couldn’t really break into the inner circle unless you were already in from the beginning. For the first few years of the Oscars, the Academy’s founding members were winning all of the awards. They didn’t really need publicists or precursors because, hey, it was their club and they rewarded their own.

Fast forward through the next several decades and zoom in tight to see how the Oscars were almost exclusively dominated by the five families — the five major studios that controlled every aspect of the Hollywood machine. The Oscars back then had become a spotlight showcase designed to reward that system. This system was a tightly controlled and almost impossible to crack unless you had been designated to nestle safe and secure within the status quo. You were a white male director, for instance, or, as the years wore on, a white male writer.

Not until the late 80s and 90s, when Miramax burst on the scene, were independent films seriously considered. While the main event was still mostly controlled by the five families, there was gradually more wiggle room allowed for outsiders (not less, as Norton says). Sure, some of the indies might not have the money to launch a full-blown campaign to splash the trades with centerfold print ads, but if they could raise around $5k then they could advertise on the blogs for visibility, an extraordinary benefit that was never available before. Some of us even run ads for free if a worthy film has no money. I did that for Blackfish and for The Hurt Locker.

So again, if you’re a white dude in Hollywood like Edward Norton, you’re probably not going to see any problem with the way the Oscars worked for years and years. You might not even notice how or why things changed and you might not need to care. You are in the business of making art, after all, good cinema. Everything else is… perhaps a politically correct debate for a different place or time. You might not equate awards or prestige with power or politics in Hollywood. You might not think that a nomination for a black filmmaker who made one of the best films in 1992 meant anything. After all, there were no loudmouths then. There were no roadblocks — just a few people shouting at the end of the day but nothing much changed.

So yes, I can generally agree with Edward Norton about some of the excess of awards season. It is a wide open expensive sticky mess. I agree that for him and his ilk they should cease advertising immediately, if that makes them feel better. We have stark evidence of how well that tactic worked last year for Gone Girl because wow, left hanging with no FYC support whatsoever, Gillian Flynn managed to get snubbed by the Oscars, in spite of being the only female screenwriter in the race who had a record number of nominations heading in. She was snubbed in favor of a male writer who was moved from his correct category in order for the Academy to grease an easy path for a talented male newcomer — instead of showing the same consideration for a talented female newcomer.

Would that Oscar nomination have done anything for Flynn’s career? Hard to say. She’s doing alright without it, but we’ll never know much higher a nomination might have helped her soar. I’d like to hear from Mr. Norton, now that he’s sitting pretty with one Oscar nod behind him, starring in a film that did a lot of advertising last year: Did an Oscar nomination give him leverage or currency in Hollywood? What does he think the same would mean to another newcomer, specifically if she’s a woman? Hm. That’s a tough question. We’d love to hear his answer.

I do think there are inherent problems with awards season. It’s hard to defend how gross things have become. It is a lot like politics. People like Edward Norton would want you to support Bernie Sanders because he stands for similar principles: he’s honest, forthright, and has high hopes of stripping billionaires of their power. He has ambitious plans like breaking up the big banks and making college free. By refusing to take PAC money that most other candidates have (thanks to the Citizens United ruling), Sanders is in a position where he can’t really compete with the likes of Jeb Bush who has already raised upwards of $150 million and counting. That money goes to… you guessed it, advertising, among other things. Were Hillary Clinton to do as Sanders is doing, opt out of the gross money clusterfuck, she too would be unable compete. And Jeb Bush would then walk away with the presidency, no matter how many Bernie Sanders supporters stand there in the Whole Foods parking lot with their t-shirt and good intentions. And, to bring it back around, the same goes for Oscar. You pay to play to a group of over-privileged voters, most of whom really can’t be bothered to watch all of the films, voters who prove year after year that advertising and publicity are the only way to get nominations and win awards.

Can we overturn Citizen United and take the money out of politics? Hard to say but that’s not the reality now. Here’s another reality: f you get rid of awards advertising you will be helping to kill Variety and Hollywood Reporter, not to mention Indiewire, the New York Times, all the way on down to this site. Each of us is struggling to survive in a changing media landscape and economy. But by all means, do away with the whole ugly scene so that Edward Norton can sleep better at night.

Advertising and publicity has been around as long as Oscar has been around. True, there weren’t many awards in the early days. There were only a few. And true, thirty years ago no respectable celebrity would be seen at the Golden Globes and now they all go. And true, there is probably nothing worse than the dog and pony show of Oscar. It’s also true that you can spend millions to win an Oscar, cry during your precursor speeches and shake the hands of every nobody from Van Nuys to Manhattan and still go home empty handed. The ads alone can’t deliver a winner. They just make sure voters don’t forget which teams are competing.

To play the game you have to want it. If you don’t want it, don’t play the game. It doesn’t mean you’re arrogant or aloof — it just means you have the luxury of not caring. Not everyone has it that good.