My Coffin of Oscar Disdain
by Kristin Battestella
My piss-ant attitude toward Oscar pundits this messy awards season did not happen overnight. As I've mentioned on Blue Sky and in several Video and Podcast appearances alongside my previous Why I'm Disinterested in Awards Season op-ed; my disdain for the Academy Awards began early. Here then are the chronological nails in my coffin and why the head scratching, so often erroneous Oscars are not worth such out of control, vicarious obsession for everything but the films that are supposed to mean the most to us.
As a kid in the eighties I was aware of the Oscars purely as prestige. Awards were for art house, international, period piece epics and serious films that I often didn't get to see. Oscar winning films weren't for everyone, and that exclusivity remains largely true. Many popular films and blockbusters or genre hits of the decade have endured more than many of the obscure, out of touch eighties Best Picture nominees. Maybe I didn't understand the details then, but the Academy's unwelcoming, full of itself nature was already apparent.
The Searchers receiving no nominations
When we got our first VCR, I fell in love with what cinema should be upon seeing The Searchers. In consulting my ye olde film guides and Oscar books, however, I was completely baffled that The Searchers not only didn't win any of the big awards, but it wasn't even nominated for anything! This was a how sway before there was even how sway. I read more literature agreeing on the mastery of John Ford's seminal piece, and this lack of Academy acknowledgment remains flat out WRONG. Little me knew it then, and my disdain deepened upon reading of more fifties Oscars errors – like Rear Window going empty-handed.
Goodfellas losing Best Picture
Surely, historical Oscar mistakes were just a fluke of classic film to be studied, right? Alas no, as I saw the Academy screw up again in real time when Goodfellas did not win Best Picture. Everything I already thought about Oscar's elite attitudes was compounded by the white savior Dances with Wolves defeating the unmistakably Italian Goodfellas. This egregiousness made it personal.
Falling in love with the mid-century acting masterclass that is Montgomery Clift's unfortunately brief body of work is something every so-called classic connoisseur should do. Although nominated four times for The Search, A Place in The Sun, From Here to Eternity and Judgment at Nuremberg; Clift never won. A case can also be made that he deserved more nominations for The Heiress, Red River, I Confess, Suddenly Last Summer, Wild River, or The Misfits yet because he's not an Oscar winner, Clift is now considered somewhat second tier in the classic pantheon. My budding teen self was once again confounded how some of the best films and performances will always be on the outside looking in when it comes to Oscar.
The ignoring of Terence Stamp for The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert
Obviously I knew nothing of the drag scene in nineties Sydney, but I learned everything I needed to know about rainbow compassion from Priscilla. Famed as the villainous Zod in Superman, Stamp's middle-aged transsexual widow was a revelation transcending cinema. A tender, delicate performance that was a bold, daring statement speaking to post-AIDS attitudes that continues to resonate today. Naturally the fearful Academy dared not touch such superb insight – instead choosing the relative safety of only acknowledging Priscilla for costumes.
L.A. Confidential not winning Best Picture
Somewhere along the line I heard someone say that the Screenplay winners are actually the better movies than what wins Best Picture. Never has this been more true than the heaps of praise upon the blockbuster Titanic, which is not the better picture than the neo noir masterpiece that is L.A. Confidential. Here the eighties prestige swung the other way – choosing the popular film and box office success as increasingly necessary to win. Whether you are a complex, sophisticated piece that stands the test of time apparently has nothing to do with it.
No nomination for Guy Pearce for Memento
Too bad for everyone who's tired of hearing me say it, but this is my hill. Guy Pearce's lack of Academy acknowledgment for Memento highlights all of Oscar's problems. Playing it safe #oscarssowhite not properly awarding Denzel Washington for Malcolm X lead to his against type make up win alongside the nomination acclaiming offensive performances like I Am Sam. This slap in the face was enough to make me stop actively paying attention to awards season for the rest of the decade. When the Academy doesn't recognize someone like Pearce and Christopher Nolan as the future of twenty-first century cinema, what are they even doing?
A point for Christian Bale's win!
Believe it or not, I took one nail out of my Oscar coffin in 2011 when Christian Bale won for The Fighter. I even called my parents to tell them the kid from Newsies won an Oscar! Despite his previously being overlooked for more daring performances like American Psycho and The Machinist, this was a rare occasion where the Academy finally did something right.
Michael Fassbender's nominations for the wrong films
Of course, my return to active awards interest was not meant to be as the impressive Fassbender was ignored for excellent performances in Hunger and Fish Tank. He was on the outside looking in at no nomination for Shame with jokes all season instead, and Carey Mulligan was also unfairly lost in the shuffle. Of course, Fassbender was graced with a seemingly obligated nomination for 12 Years a Slave, and I laughed at his subsequent nod for the stereotypically baity Steve Jobs. Forcing one of our most daring actors into awards safety turned me away yet again.
Guy Pearce receiving no acknowledgment for The Rover
I casually knew Pearce was once again not in the awards conversation for The Rover, having long accepted that it's worth seeking out his edgy, raw films that standing pat Oscar would never touch. However after having to wait for and then finally see The Rover, I was once again angry at how the supposed bar of award excellence could ignore such haunting material. Even in absentia this reaffirmed my Oscar free attitude for the next decade.
So now I was lured into the awards circus once more thanks to the world's apparently waking up to Guy Pearce's being worthy of acclaim for The Brutalist. We're in the home stretch of what has been the messiest, nastiest, cutthroat, and ridiculous award season. Everything about why I hated awards has increased tenfold in the social media age with Oscar obsession totally out of touch on everything that's happening in this disastrous 2025. Euphoric pundits play along in a game of predictions, patterns, and if this than that algorithms that have nothing to do with any meaning found in the films and performances. When the wannabe experts admit that the best doesn't win, film goers are supposed to accept that falsehood instead of enjoy the movies that move them? I object the devotion to contrived Academy politics over quality cinema.
I don't expect Guy Pearce to win anything. Even if he did, this year is the tenth and final nail in my Coffin of Oscar Disdain. I've had one foot out the door with my back turned for most of this century, and I will never be drawn back into award punditry and patheticness over art ever again.
Oscar is dead to me. I don't know her. ⚰️
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