Loving movies

While my head swirls with thoughts and ideas about where the Oscar race will end up, I thought it'd be a good idea to step back and just consider how cool it is that we have movies that we love, or that we're even capable of loving movies to begin with.

The Oscars bring out the best and worst of people who love movies. The roughly two and a half months between the Golden Globe nominations and the Academy Awards constitute a time of great hope, of crossing our fingers and holding our breath as we firmly believe that this year will be the year the powers that be reward the film we each consider "best." It's a marvelous, awesome time of the year for people like me, because for those two months, the blogosphere just wants to talk about movies -- what was good, why was it good, analyzing performances, camera work, direction -- it's what I do every day on some level or another, and the Oscars are one of the purest forms of cultural debate.



The only downside? It always turns ugly. There's always "backlash," frustration, degradation. It's not uncommon to hop on a discussion board this time of year and see the ignorant out in force, decrying The King's Speech, The Social Network, Black Swan, True Grit and the rest as, you guessed it, "overrated." Most of these complainers are reactionary; they're upset that the film they love isn't getting the attention it deserves.

So why does "loving movies" make us act so strange? When you think about it, it's kind of a very profound concept, to become so attached to an industrial product, a story produced through technology and sold to us. Oscar season reinforces what the early film theorists had already figured out in the 1920s -- movies hold an amazing sway over us. They are "escapist," but that escape takes many forms. Whether you're watching a movie on a cinema screen, a television screen, or a laptop screen, you're watching it to absorb it. You want to wonder at its visuals, get caught up in its plot, feel emotional attachment. They are a way for us to feel as much as they are to watch, to understand something primal and true about ourselves and the culture around us.

That's why I think The King's Speech's ad campaign is so smart: "Some movies you see, others you feel." It's also why I think this year is so amazing. Yes, last year had "innovation" (Avatar) versus "tradition" (The Hurt Locker) versus something completely different (Inglourious Basterds).

Look at this year: It's not just about Social Network and King's Speech. It's about Inception, Black Swan, The Fighter, Toy Story 3 -- these are movies that I have routinely and consistently heard people say about them: "I love that movie." Whether you're in one camp or several, it's very cool to watch an Oscar season where it may have come down to two movies, but there are so many diverse movies that people genuinely love and care about being represented. A lot of people are suggesting the Academy will only be hurting itself if King's Speech wins on the 27th. I have to disagree, precisely because it's a movie that people love, they really do. Its demographics may skew older than Social Network, Inception, or Black Swan fans, but that soul-stirring spirit against a wonderfully realized historical backdrop is still a top-notch film.

But our love for one thing sometimes blinds us to the quality of another. I'll be disappointed if Social Network and David Fincher lose in 12 days, but that won't change how much I love the film, how important it is to me, nor will it make me lash out at King's Speech, something that most disappointed fans will want to do. I see this most potently in Inception fans (of which I am one) -- they clamor for a world where the Academy will finally accept sci-fi, where they can win more than just visual effects and sound award. More than anything, they see this film as the one that can do that, precisely because it spoke to them and they connected to it in such a profound way because of the ideas it explores.

Much as movies are a mark of our culture and our time, so too are the Oscars -- what the industry chooses to reward often speaks to how the industry chooses to perceive itself. Sometimes it's a tragedy (Crash over Brokeback, anyone?) and sometimes it's incredibly bold (No Country for Old Men winning four? Who would've thunkit?). Many of us follow the Oscars not only because they're a fascinating organization, but because we love movies and, even though we try to detach ourselves with reminders that, "AMPAS really doesn't mean anything in the end," we secretly hold out hope that each year our favorite will get rewarded.

It's a cool thing to love a movie, to believe in it, to watch it over and over again and become so familiar with it you can anticipate the dialogue, the camera motions, the editing. Maybe that's the obsessive side of "loving movies" poking through, but we all have those movies that speak to us so profoundly we want to know their every detail. Ultimately, it's all a subjective game, where "best" is merely a silly little word.

Enjoy the next 12 days, and don't let it get ugly.