Equality at the Oscars?

The year that saw the first Academy Awards, 1929, also saw two landmarks in the march for equality: in the UK, the 1929 election was the first one in which women under 30 could vote, leading to it being termed the ‘Flapper Election’; and in Canada, five women led a campaign to change the legislature to recognise women as ‘persons’, meaning they could stand for any role in government. In the nine decades since, we have seen revolutionary strides in sexual equality, and yet Hollywood awards remain a region of segregation: when the Academy Awards are broadcast, the acting categories will still be split along gender lines, as they have been since their inception.

So why is this? It could be argued that early on in the days of the film industry, women were rarely afforded interesting parts, and that the decision to separate out actors for awards ensures that at least two women will win an Oscar every year. Conversely, nowadays it is acting where men and women are most equal in the industry: last year only 6 non-acting awards were given to women, out of 19; there has never been a woman nominated for Best Cinematographer; and Kathryn Bigelow remains the only woman to win the Best Director award. Should we have separate gender categories for these awards too?

While I do agree that there needs to be a lot more done to encourage women across all areas in Hollywood, I don’t feel like having acting awards divided by gender is the best way to recognise women actors working today; all it does is place them in a category of their own, furthering the idea that their work is inherently ‘different’ to the ‘serious’ work of men. As Gloria Steinem said: ‘it’s not like upper body strength’ – acting requires skill and hard work, and this is independent of the individual’s gender. To continue to portray women actors as ‘separate but equal’ really isn’t true equality.

To continue to portray women actors as ‘separate but equal’ isn’t true equality

Furthermore, having a single acting award could set a precedent for the industry: where the Academy goes, the industry follows, and by breaking down gender lines a powerful message could be sent out to studio heads. The gender pay-gap in Hollywood has – rightly – been in the news in the last couple of years. From Frances McDormand talking about how she has only been paid her going rate once in her career, to Jennifer Lawrence and Amy Adams being paid significantly less than their male co-stars in American Hustle, gender equality is becoming a driving force in shaping the industry. Adopting a gender-neutral acting award could show the Academy recognises – and values – women’s work the same as men’s.

And if an appeal to equality doesn’t reach you, what about just a appeal to quality? Now, we know that, by and large, the Academy Awards are meaningless. Meaningless both in the ‘what about Syria?’ sense of the wider world, but also within film as an art form; brilliant films don’t get awarded anything, and the vast number of bad films that get awards (1994: Forrest Gump, 2002: Chicago, 2005: Crash) indicate that Academy Awards are not about artistic merit. But this problem is more pronounced in the acting category. Let’s consider this year’s nominees:

Leonardo DiCaprio will probably take home the Oscar for his portrayal of Hugh Glass, a role that does not reveal any ability to convey complex emotions or nuance; instead, it’s another example of how voters love seeing actors suffer on screen (Hollywood sure is a sadistic industry). But then perhaps he deserves the award, since it’s definitely an absolutely stinking year: Eddie Redmayne layered on so many simpering affectations as Lili Elbe that I’m not sure whether the portrayal is offensive to just the trans community, or women in general; Bryan Cranston similarly conjured up a number of tics in order to play Dalton Trumbo, in a role that could be best described as ‘pained’; and Matt Damon was amusing, but not much else, in humdrum The Martian.

But if we turn to the Best Actress nominees, it’s a different story. Jennifer Lawrence, easily the worst of the bunch, still packs in more emotional range than DiCaprio. Saoirse Ronan is equally captivating in her role as Irish shop-girl Eilis, imbuing her with a deep vulnerability that hardens into an inner strength. Charlotte Rampling delivers a performance that would be award-worthy just for what she brings to the ending alone: a shot that will haunt your dreams and linger in your mind. Brie Larson, the likely winner, is a magician on screen, as the traumatised abuse victim of Room who must hold it together for her child. And, of course, Cate Blanchett is completely phenomenal as the complex, controlled Carol Aird, in Todd Haynes’ sumptuous masterpiece Carol.

It seems unfair that, if Laron and DiCaprio win the awards, Ronan, Blanchet, Rampling, and Lawrence will all leave empty-handed, despite putting in barnstormers of performances. By splitting the role along gender lines, it increases the chance that any particular year will assemble a shortlist of bad apples, meaning the meaning of winning is cheapened. Now, imagine if instead, we had a group of 8 actors, of all genders, competing for a single award; that way we’d be more assured that whoever won would represent the pinnacle of that year’s acting.

Ultimately, the continued existence of separate acting awards is a mystery for me. By continuing to split along gender lines, the Academy sends out a message that men and women are separate, while simultaneously lessening what winning an Oscar means. Not only that, but abolishing gender lines would make the ceremony considerably shorter, and – as anyone who has stayed up to watch the Oscars will tell you – that would be like manna from heaven.