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It’s that time of year again. While many of you are trimming the tree and hanging the stockings by the chimney with care, we critics are voting, arguing and hammering out our awards and “best-of” lists. Which means it is also time for the Golden Globe nominations – the single most discussed and debated awards given out by a scant 95 people, many of whom don’t even write professionally anymore. Now, none of this really means much – they are merely awards. But it does pose a number of interesting questions, leading to a series of arguments over very divisive philosophies. After all, what’s the point?
No. Really. Not “why bother?” but “what’s the point?” What should be our ultimate goal in heaping praise upon the artists who have worked so hard to entertain us? There are two distinctly different schools of thought on this, both of which can turn best friends into bitter rivals this time of year. The first is that awards and “best-of” lists should reflect those really great films that people need to seek out and watch – especially those ignored by the mainstream. The second school of thought is that it should reward filmmakers who made truly spectacular films to send a message to Hollywood that we want more of these types of films. And while some would argue that these lists are the same – or at least that their lists are – this is not always the case. And nothing quite drives that home like this year’s crop of films.
Take, for example, this year’s critical darling, The Hurt Locker. Critic associations across the country are bending over backwards to name this the very best film of the year and its director Kathryn Bigelow as best director. However, should we be rewarding a film that critics loved but nobody wanted to watch? After 21 weeks in theaters and countless positive reviews (98% “Fresh” on Rotten Tomatoes), The Hurt Locker only scraped together $16 million worldwide. It’s a gritty war film about an unlikable protagonist and his two subordinates who Bigelow decided to deliberately keep as personality-free as possible, hoping the audience would associate them with close friends and loved ones overseas. It is the very definition of a film people don’t want to see right now, a film about getting in your face with a subject that television, bloggers and politically minded friends already get in your face about.
Meanwhile, District 9 was just as gritty, raw and important as Bigelow’s film, but it discussed our humanity in allegory form, offered an unlikable protagonist who became endearing over the course of the film, and most importantly, brought people back time and again to the tune of $204 million worldwide. Sitting at 90% “Fresh,” this was hardly a critical dud or a brainless action film. It was one of the best-received films of the year. Produced for a paltry $30 million, it made its budget back six times over. But it was a science fiction film, not an arthouse film.
So this time of year, what’s more important? That we try and get people to see a film they didn’t want to see, or that we tell Hollywood to give more low-to-medium-budgeted films to directors like District 9’s Neill Blomkamp and its producers like Peter Jackson. After all, what makes a film the best of the year? The one with the praise of 8% more critics, or the one that was seen and enjoyed by 1,200% more people?
After 97,000 votes on IMDB, District 9 is rated as 8.4 out of 10 while The Hurt Locker is an 8.0, with only one-fifth the total votes. So which one was best?
Check out last week’s Counterpoint on Twilight and Girl Power
