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The predictable predictability of the Oscars

Favoring middle-of-the-road prestige over edgier fare

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It’s hard to write a reaction piece about the Oscars when you recognize that the Oscars, by their very nature, are essentially a poll – or perhaps, more aptly, a popularity contest – which reflects an aggregate of personal opinions, and therefore have as much to do with internal Hollywood politics as with rewarding artistic excellence.

I’m not saying that the movies and people being celebrated on the stage at the Dolby Theater in Hollywood Sunday night – all of them, winners and nominees alike – didn’t deserve to be there; on the contrary, 2023 was an outstanding year for cinema, and every one of the contenders could be considered worthy of taking the prize. If that’s the case, however, how can any of these outcomes be determined without the influence of personal taste? Making movies is not like playing sports, where a win results from the highest number of points scored and goals blocked; there is no such handily objective criteria to rely on in picking an actor, a screenwriter, or an entire film to proclaim as the “best” in its respective category, and it’s inevitable that Academy voters will be influenced by personal bias when they make their choices on that final ballot.

While Sunday’s 96th annual Oscar ceremony, which offered the usual snubs and oversights and no real surprises, might have disappointed me or even occasionally sparked a glimmer of outrage, I cannot fairly say that any of the final results were “mistakes.” And though it may be oversimplifying things to say that being offended by the Academy’s final choices is akin to being angry that someone else’s favorite flavor of ice cream is chocolate when yours is salted caramel praline, it’s still enough to convince me that my “reaction” piece to the Academy Awards can really only ever be an “opinion” piece,

With that in mind, here we go.

The presentation itself was the usual blend of witty repartee (mostly provided with success by veteran Oscar host Jimmy Kimmel, though attempts at it from the various presenters ran the gamut from delightful to disastrous), musical performances (Billie Eilish and brother Finneas O’Connell’s rendition of “What Was I Made For?”, which went on to win the evening’s only award for “Barbie”, was a particular highlight, alongside the more lavish and deliciously amusing dance production number headed by Supporting Actor nominee Ryan Gosling for “I’m Just Ken” from the same film), uplifting moments (a regal Rita Moreno’s benedictory introduction of “Barbie” Supporting Actress nominee America Ferrera brought tears to my eyes, and I suspect I wasn’t alone), and show-stopping surprises (John Cena’s teasingly faux nudity presenting the Best Costume Design award was a memorable stunt, to put it mildly, as was the combination of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito to do the honors in the Visual Effects and Film Editing categories) – yet it also had more than its fair share of embarrassing gaffes, such as upstaging the “In Memoriam” segment with an overblown production number accompanied by father-and-son operatic crooners Andrea and Matteo Bocelli’s duet of “Con tu partirò”, a move that has fueled perhaps more post-Oscars outrage than anything else from this year’s ceremony.

As for the politics, there were the expected barbs making fun of easy conservative targets, but most of the speeches avoided invoking too much progressive fury. The one overtly political moment came with the win of UK director Jonathan Glazer’s “The Zone of Interest” for Best International Feature, when he read, in prayerlike monotone, a pre-prepared statement warning against the dehumanizing hate depicted in his slice-of-Nazi-life historical drama and calling for empathy for the targets of such hate on both sides of the current crisis in Gaza. It was met with backlash, of course, especially after a partial quote in Variety omitted key elements of the speech and led many to believe the Jewish filmmaker was refuting his own religion.

As for the winners of the awards themselves (you can find the full list on the Oscar website) the evening’s choices fell more or less in line with my predictions – though not necessarily my preferences. 

The domination of “Oppenheimer” in most of the major categories in which it competed was, for anyone following the pre-ceremony buzz, a foregone conclusion. Few doubted that Cillian Murphy would handily claim the Best Actor prize – thwarting nominee Colman Domingo (“Rustin”) from becoming the first queer actor to win for playing a queer character in the process – or that Christopher Nolan would take the Best Director category, and from there the win for Best Picture felt as inevitable as anything can be at the Oscars.

Equally inevitable was the evening’s most easily predicted “Oppenheimer” win, as veteran Hollywood player Robert Downey, Jr. ebulliently swaggered onstage amid the enthusiastic familial cheers of his peers to claim the Best Supporting Actor prize; his acceptance speech, in which he self-deprecatingly recalled the legal and professional obstacles arising from the substance abuse that nearly derailed his early career, became a testament to overcoming personal setbacks to achieve an even higher success, something that resonated in the words of several other of the evening’s winners.

In the categories where “Oppenheimer” didn’t win, the odds were already in favor of the eventual victors, such as first-time filmmaker Cord Jefferson, whose “American Fiction” earned him the Best Adapted Screenplay Award over fellow front runners like “Barbie” and “Poor Things,” and Da’Vine Joy Randolph, whose winning Supporting Actress turn in “The Holdovers” had been a juggernaut throughout the award season.

Many Oscar fans, though most accepted the predestination of “Oppenheimer” as the year’s big winner, might rather have seen a different candidate come out on top (my own choice, for what it’s worth, would have been “Barbie,” with “Poor Things” and “Zone of Interest” coming up close behind); but even if Nolan’s weighty and technically dazzling biopic was unquestionably a fine film, exploring a deeply disturbing slice of not-too-distant history that still casts a long existential shadow over our world today, it’s impossible for me not to see in its multiple wins an all-too-familiar pattern of “safe” choices.

While “Oppenheimer” might pique ethical discussions over its title character’s choice to build the atomic bomb, few would find controversy in the idea that the destruction unleashed on the world by that choice is a reason for concern. Its most viable competitors, “Barbie” and “Poor Things” – both of which touched on many of the same existential themes, albeit from a markedly different direction and in a more absurdist style – each stirred divisive opinions around (among other things) a perceived feminist agenda; other highly-acclaimed titles in the running, like the non-English language entries “Zone”, “Past Lives”, and “Anatomy of a Fall”, fell outside the comfortable domestic audience mainstream where Oscar’s favorite picks are usually a little too deeply-rooted to allow much opportunity for a dark horse upset. While not many expected Bradley Cooper’s ambitious Bernstein biopic “Maestro” to take home any awards, it was considerably more noteworthy that Martin Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon,” nominated for 10 Awards and widely lauded as one of the year’s most essential films, failed to score a single one of them – though I can’t help also noting that it deals with one of most shameful threads in our American past, inevitably making it a controversial movie for an era marked by deeply divided ideologies around that subject.

It’s perhaps for that reason that “Flower Moon” was not considered a front runner in most of its categories, but there was one in which it was seen as a heavy favorite. With Lily Gladstone poised to become the first Indigenous performer to win the Best Actress trophy, the odds leading up to Sunday’s presentation seemed to position them as the front runner; in the end, however, it was Emma Stone’s tour-de-force in “Poor Things” – in which she appeared in virtually every scene, in contrast to Gladstone’s relatively limited screen – that took it instead. Though it wasn’t quite a surprise, given the number of wins Stone has garnered already for the film, which also took home the prizes for Best Makeup and Hairstyling and Best Production Design, it nevertheless felt – to me, at least – like another example of Oscar’s predictable reluctance to court controversy with its choices.

Ironically, but not surprisingly, this conservative approach often just ends up causing a controversy of its own, and this case is no exception. Though I had championed Stone’s brilliant performance as the obvious winner, when her name was announced I found myself feeling disappointment over Goldstone’s loss, even as I was thrilled for Stone’s well-earned victory. After all, in a contest where the outcome is entirely subjective, Academy voters could have chosen to amplify the excellence of someone from within a marginalized community. Stone, who seemed as surprised at her win as anyone else, did remarkable work, but so did Gladstone; though it truly is “an honor just to be nominated,” it was an opportunity for Oscar to take a step toward correcting a long-ignored injustice at a time when doing so could make a demonstrably constructive impact on our culture and our society at a time when doing so would have a tremendous cultural impact, and it didn’t happen. It was a moment that struck me with an odd sense of disappointment even as I cheered for Stone; a bit of the sour within the sweet.

That, aside from a sense of missed opportunity over the evening’s consistent pattern of favoring the middle-of-the-road prestige represented by “Oppenheimer” over the edgier, more confrontational material presented by some of the other titles on the slate, was my biggest takeaway from the Academy Awards. Though I can’t say that any of the winners were unworthy, I can’t help thinking that their victories were somewhat tainted by the virtual shutout of “Barbie”, (which still feels to me like a message for female filmmakers to “stay in their lane”) and relatively low showing for “Poor Things” (which took only 3 of the 11 awards for which it was nominated), and that their underappreciation for such films was for me proof that many of the professionals working within the industry are afraid of material that pushes the medium too far outside its traditional boundaries, that dares to imagine stories and ideas which give voice to “outsider” concerns beyond the level of lip service, or that stretches the accepted limits of narrative entertainment.

More concerning, perhaps, is the minimal change that has come in the wake of the Academy’s much-publicized retooling to promote greater diversity and inclusion among the nominees. While it’s heartening to see people of color and queer people being brought into the mix more consistently than ever before, it’s also all the more painful when we see them passed over or relegated to the status of “also ran” most of the time. As a queer writer working for a queer publication, it’s impossible for me not to be impatient when films with strong LGBTQ content are lauded alongside mainstream titles only to consistently be passed over when it comes to the final victory. While queer subject matter, in varying degrees, was part of movies like “Rustin”, “Nyad”, and even “Barbie,” only two wins in the “major” categories went to films that included significant queer themes – “American Fiction” and “Anatomy of a Fall”, both of which won for their screenplays.

And while it’s now old news, the Academy’s complete omission of Andrew Haigh’s melancholy gay ghost story “All of Us Strangers,” a queer UK film overwhelmingly embraced by other major awards bodies across the world and in America itself and considered a major contender before failing to earn a single Oscar nomination, and female filmmaker Emerald Fennell’s “Saltburn,” which hinged – at least ostensibly – on a queer attraction between stars Barry Keoghan and Jacob Elordi, speaks volumes about the comfort level surrounding queer content within mainstream Hollywood. Even “May December,” a high-profile film directed by queer indie pioneer Todd Haynes but featuring only presumably heterosexual characters, received only a single nod (for Best Original Screenplay) for “May December,” despite being widely considered a front-runner for several acting awards. While inclusivity doesn’t mean considering every queer-relevant movie a shoo-in for the competition, it’s telling when the Academy all but ignores queer titles that have been contenders and even winners at all the other major film award ceremonies, and frankly, it’s extremely annoying. While I can’t speak for women, those in the Black community, or other groups with a history of being dismissed by Oscar, I can only assume that their sentiments must resemble my own.

Yet as I reach the end of my observations about the latest installment of the Academy Awards, I find myself falling short of blaming the Academy itself, at least as an organization. While it has had a problematic history of dragging its feet when it comes to evolving toward a more all-embracing approach to bestowing honors, undeniable progress has been made. That this progress is infuriatingly slow is less a reflection on the awards than it is on Hollywood as a whole; after all, despite Academy efforts to ensure greater diversity among its nominees, it’s the individual choices of its voters that determines the final results – and if those results fail to accomplish more than the occasional token victory for the non-white-heterosexual contenders, it’s a symptom of the fact that those voices are underrepresented within the industry at large.

If we want to see an Academy Awards ceremony that truly accomplishes the kind of all-inclusive spirit for which it has so palpable a potential, we must continue to pressure the Hollywood industry at large to build a more diverse and inclusive creative environment. Otherwise, no matter how much they promise to do better, they will always fall short.

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Books

In ‘The Lost Brontë,’ a complicated lie can lead to danger

New book features sweetly romantic girl-meets-girl twist

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(Book cover image courtesy of Bywater Books)

‘The Lost Brontë’
By Catherine Friend
c.2026, Bywater Books
$22.95/335 pages

Mom always said to tell the truth.

One lie leads to another and another and you have to remember them all until pretty soon, you’re caught. Fibs are hard, mistruths are messy, even little white social lies can destroy trust. Worst of all, as in the new novel, “The Lost Brontë” by Catherine Friend, a complicated lie can lead to danger.

Though Lilianne Loxley was very young when she lost her parents, she understood that her uncle didn’t really want her. As time passed, though, Lily made herself useful to Uncle, writing and signing letters for him and she became a good companion, helping him with his collection of Brontë memorabilia. Uncle was a keen enthusiast.

She had no idea that his obsession was out of control and he was deeply in arrears. The day Lily learned of his debt was the day she learned that he’d agreed to send her to his debtor’s home to work off the money owed.

It was so sudden. One minute, Lily was at Loxley House, happy and loved by Uncle’s staff … and five hours later, she was at Crag Thorn Manor, home of Lord Bexton, who informed her that she’d be working on his ledgers – work that seemed routine, but Lily tackled it.

Uncle always did say she was headstrong.

But would headstrong be enough to survive, when she was restricted from most of the Manor, when she was forced to dine with Brexton and his slimy friend, or – the worst! – when Brexton told Lily that her next task was to forge a letter from Emily Brontë? And then an entire manuscript?

Lily struggled to do what was right. She had to get Uncle out of debt but this last order horrified her. Did she dare refuse Brexton’s orders and commit a crime? It was unthinkable!

The only brightness in the whole situation was Wren, the ladies’ maid assigned to Lily’s room. Wren was adorable with freckles and the sweetest smile. But with everything else happening at Crag Thorn Manner, could Lily act upon her feelings?

This time of year, you may come to crave dark, spooky stories, and “The Last Brontë” fits those needs perfectly with its Gothic deliciousness. Think: Daphne du Maurier-type, stormy-night squirms with a dangerously chaste, sweetly romantic girl-meets-girl twist for fun.

If it’s been awhile since you’ve read a Gothic novel, you’re in for a nice reminder of why you love them here. You can almost tick off the must-haves: a novel like this is nothing without a foreboding stone manor with damp walls; stone steps to a dank basement; a mysterious portrait; and a nearby bog, and author Catherine Friend gives readers every one of them. You’d be disappointed if there was no ghost, wouldn’t you? Ha. You can practically feel the cold blow through the attic, right? Yeah, it’s that kind of book.

If you’re a fan of the Brontës, you’ll like this novel. If you love Gothic mysteries or Victorian romances, ditto. “The Lost Brontë” is good, no lie.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

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Out & About

CAMP Rehoboth Block Party returns Oct. 18

Expect performances, vendors and more at annual celebration

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CAMP Rehoboth’s annual Block Party returns next weekend. (Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)

CAMP Rehoboth will host its annual Block Party celebration on Sunday, Oct.18 at 11 a.m. on the second block of Baltimore Avenue in downtown Rehoboth Beach.

CAMP Rehoboth invites all community members to join in the festivities and to expect magnificent performances and dozens of vendors, including artists, craftspeople, non-profits, businesses, and more.

The event started in 2015 in celebration of CAMP Rehoboth’s 25th anniversary. This year, attendees can expect to shop sea glass art, pottery, jewelry, Pride merch, body care, clothing, and learn more about local non-profit causes and businesses.

Attendance is free. For more details, visit CAMP Rehoboth’s website. 

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Movies

Essential queer horror classics for Halloween

‘Bride of Frankenstein,’ Bowie in ‘The Hunger,’ and more

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David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve in ‘The Hunger.’ (Photo courtesy MGM)

Sure, this spooky season has blessed us with a lot of new horror on TV and at the movies, but when it comes to Halloween, you can never have too much horror to watch. With that in mind, we’ve put together a list of celebrated queer chillers that queer horror fans may know about but might not have seen, especially if you’re part of a younger generation of movie buffs looking to expand your experience with the genre beyond the contemporary crop that has turned the early 2000s into a renaissance of horror cinema.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

Yes, we know subtextualized queerness in horror feels like a cop-out in this day and age, but in the early days of Hollywood, it was the only way to sneak it past the censors – and that’s exactly what English expat director James Whale did as a defining force behind the success of Universal Studios’s classic horror “franchise” of the 1930s. More-or-less openly gay with a background in theater, he put those sensibilities to good use on film, and reached his queer pinnacle with “Bride of Frankenstein,” a sequel that expanded on the original with a wicked sense of humor and a “lavender” touch that was obvious to anyone who was in the know.

Skewering “monster movie” tropes and satirizing the conventional mentality of all those angry villagers, Whale also delivered a story of two men – Doctors Frankenstein and Pretorius (Colin Clive and Ernest Thesiger, respectively) – whose clandestine efforts to create a mate for Boris Karloff’s lonely monster read like a gay couple drawn together by “unnatural” obsessions. Thesiger’s unapologetically queer persona would likely dominate the entire film if not for Elsa Lanchester’s turn as the hissing, electrified title character, but the film’s true greatness lies in transforming Karloff’s “monster” into a full-fledged tragic hero, a primal avatar for “otherness” that emerges as the most sympathetic figure on the screen; and while it might not be that “scary” by modern standards, as one of the most boldly transgressive films of the Hollywood “golden era” it still packs a wickedly savage punch.

The Haunting (1963)

Based on Shirley Jackson’s novel of the same name and helmed by veteran director Robert Wise in the wake of his Oscar-winning screen adaptation of “West Side Story,” “The Haunting” is a film that looms large in the history of queer representation in American cinema, simply for the fact that it included an openly lesbian character during a time when anything beyond a subtle implication of non-heterosexual alignment was still very much considered taboo.

The character in question is a psychic named Theodora (Claire Bloom), one of a group of individuals invited by a paranormal researcher (Richard Johnson) to investigate an old New England house, which is reputed to be haunted in the wake of a long string of tragedies that have befallen the family that owns it. Although she’s something of a thorny personality, she’s framed as neither villain not victim, but her presence provides queer overtones that impact the rest of the story, particularly through the growing psychological agitation of its painfully repressed central character (Julie Harris) and the history of the house itself.

A classic “old, dark house” ghost story that deliberately avoids depicting anything definitively supernatural, it focuses instead on psychological tension and the power of suggestion to ramp up scares, which it does quite effectively, utilizing innovative camera and sound techniques to suggest, but never reveal, the dark forces that drive the story. Audiences of the time wanted more concrete thrills, so it was not a major hit; nevertheless, it has been consistently ranked as one of the best horror films of all time – and while it might not offer the blood-curdling terror modern viewers expect, its moody sense of dread and doom is enough to keep you on edge for the duration.

The Hunger (1983)

It’s hard to think of a horror film as openly sexy as this classic from director Tony Scott, which turns Whitley Streiber’s book about an ancient vampire (Catherine Deneuve) in modern New York, who grooms a scientist (Susan Sarandon) to be her new sexual companion for the ages as the old one (David Bowie) begins to rapidly age and decline. Dripping with 1980s cool (it opens with Bauhaus singing “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” in a nightclub) and leaning hard into the open eroticism of a more sexually permissive era, it doesn’t hide its sapphic supernatural love story in the subtext; instead, it gives us one of the steamiest love scenes between two women ever put on film. Critics of the time praised it for its style and its mood, but lamented what they perceived as an ultimately shallow story – but in retrospect, its pervading air of melancholy doom despite the glamorous elegance of its presentation serves as a fitting reminder that an eternal life of meaningless beauty and pleasure might not be as great an idea as we think it is.

Stranger by the Lake (2013)

French filmmaker Alan Giraudie delivers one of the sexiest – and scariest – gay thrillers – of all time – in this tale of a young man (Pierre Deladonchamps) who frequents a lakeside nude beach, which is a popular hook-up spot despite a recent series of unsolved killings in the area. He becomes infatuated with an attractive man (Christophe Paou) he meets there and they connect; later, he witnesses an incident that makes him suspect his new flame might be the murderer – but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to pursue their relationship, despite an increasing likelihood that he might end up as the next victim. It’s an obvious essay on the power of lust to pull us into danger, but it doesn’t moralize; instead it entices us deeper with scenes of graphic un-simulated sex and sparks nostalgic fantasies of a pre-Grindr era when the threat of encountering a serial killer was never enough to keep us away from our favorite cruising spot. Transgressive? Yes, and also terrifying.

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021)

If you’re a horror fan in 2026, it’s likely you’ve already seen trans filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun’s critically lauded “I Saw the TV Glow,” as well as “Teenage Sex and Death and Camp Miasma,” which has emerged as one of the year’s most acclaimed movies so far. You might not, however, be familiar with their first feature film, in which a teenage girl (Anna Cobb), living an isolated life with an abusive single father, finds escape and connection on the internet; she participates in a “viral challenge” that requires her to post a video of herself performing a ritual chant, and then follow up with updates documenting the transformation she goes through as a result. Inspired by Schoenbrun’s own experience navigating the online world while struggling with gender dysphoria and other issues around their identity, it’s an unsettling and disorienting ride that keeps us wondering what will happen next – but the real horror comes from its observations about the way living our lives online can transform us all.

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