Oscars 2017: What does it mean to be ‘the next Mad Max: Fury Road’?
By Amy Woolsey
As positive reviews start to trickle out, awards prognosticators wonder if the Oscars will show Blade Runner 2049 some love.
Each year, when the leaves change color, film media shifts gears. The conversation goes from box office to awards. “How much money will this movie make?” becomes “How will this movie fare at the Oscars?”
Not even blockbusters are immune. Case in point: Blade Runner 2049. General audiences have yet to see the sequel to Ridley Scott’s game-changing 1982 science-fiction flick, but early critical reviews range from admiring to adoring. Since it is October and not June, this has inevitably prompted slightly incredulous musings about the film’s Oscar prospects. Variety’s Kristopher Tapley poses the necessary question: “Is Blade Runner 2049 the next Mad Max: Fury Road?”
To be clear, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with awards speculation. It’s silly (especially when talk about next year’s Oscars surfaces before this year’s Oscars are even announced), but innocuous. And Tapley acknowledges that the praise being heaped on Blade Runner 2049 mostly concerns its technical aspects — Roger Deakins’s cinematography, to be specific.
Still, the chatter has a tinge of desperation, not to mention condescension. It seems as though any time a commercial-minded movie receives a moderately enthusiastic response, a wave of articles hyping its awards chances follows. Take the last blockbuster lensed by Deakins. However, not only did Skyfall fail to nab any above-the-line nominations, it extended its DP’s winless streak to 10. In 2015, Star Wars: The Force Awakens saw its hopes boosted (to no avail) when the Critics’ Choice Awards expanded its Best Picture field. Warner Bros. allegedly plans to go all-out on a Wonder Woman campaign.
Having not seen Blade Runner 2049, I can’t say if it deserves anything. But it’s worth asking what we’re looking for. What would make a movie like Blade Runner 2049 Oscar-worthy? Why does it matter?
Genre bias
Frankly, the charge of genre bias often leveled at the Academy is somewhat overblown. True, no genre movie has won Best Picture since 2012’s Argo. But plenty have gotten nominated, at least since the category expansion in 2009, from sci-fi (District 9, Arrival) and action (Inception, Mad Max: Fury Road) to Western (True Grit, Hell or High Water) and even horror (Black Swan). If you include musicals, there’s also Les Miserables and La La Land.
In general, when people say the Oscars ignore genre film, they really mean that the Oscars ignore blockbusters. Which, more often than not, means franchises. Indeed, no movie connected to a franchise has won Best Picture since 2003’s The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Only Toy Story 3 and Mad Max: Fury Road have been nominated.
The fact is that most franchise movies are bad. And the good ones are rarely amazing enough to demand awards recognition. Other than The Dark Knight, there aren’t any modern blockbusters that I think the Oscars truly “snubbed”. Don’t get me wrong: I enjoyed the hell out of Wonder Woman. But a Best Picture nod for it would feel like a participation trophy. Congratulations for putting actual effort into your movie! While I’d be happy for Patty Jenkins, I also think she has more in her ù a decent climactic showdown, for example. (Besides, if the Oscars pay attention to a blockbuster this year, it should be War for the Planet of the Apes.)
At the end of the day, these movies don’t need the Academy’s validation to go along with their profits and popularity. The point of the Oscars is to give studios an incentive to make movies that aren’t part of massive franchises.
The next Mad Max: Fury Road
Unfortunately, this year’s Oscar race appears to be dominated by the usual historical dramas, biopics, and coming-of-age stories. There could still be a Mad Max: Fury Road-type contender, though. In a twist of irony, it’s a film that, on the surface, closely aligns with standard awards fare: Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk.
Sure, it’s about World War II and features an entirely white, male cast. Yet, it plays less like Saving Private Ryan than Fury Road: a pulse-pounding, feature-length action sequence. Whereas other blockbusters keep succumbing to sprawl and aesthetic monotony, as if they skipped George Miller’s master class, Dunkirk runs a lean 106 minutes, wasting no time on exposition, and takes palpable pleasure in its imagery and movement. Underneath the stiff-upper-lip restraint, it’s all energy.
Who cares about the Oscars? All I want is for Hollywood to make more spectacles this bold and stylish. Of course, we probably have yet to see the full extent of Fury Road’s influence; it’s only been two years. But from here, things look awfully bleak.
Related Story: Blade Runner 2049 may be long, but it is worth the three hours
Blade Runner 2049 opens on Oct. 6.