After two straight years of #OscarsSoWhite, the Academy produced their most diverse lineup of acting nominees in a decade — and tied the record for their most inclusive ever.
Seven actors of color (specifically, six black actors and one Indian actor) earned nominations for the film industry’s highest acting honor.
The number ties 2007 and 2005’s record of seven. The seven nominees of color are:
Denzel Washington, Fences
Ruth Negga, Loving
Mahershala Ali, Moonlight
Dev Patel, Lion
Viola Davis, Fences
Naomie Harris, Moonlight
Octavia Spencer, Hidden Figures
Like 2007, which featured multiple nominees from movies like Dreamgirls and Babel, 2017’s list was buoyed by multiple nods for movies like Fences and Moonlight. Those two, plus Lion and Hidden Figures, are best picture nominees as well.
Only four years have featured more than five nominees of color in the Oscars’ acting categories: 2017, 2007, 2005 and 2004 (with six). Read more
During college, Lin-Manuel Miranda and a friend used to improvise interpretative dance tributes to best picture nominees at their annual Oscar party. “It was a lot of breathing and rolling around,” recalls the creator of the Broadway smash Hamilton. “We had a great Seabiscuit dance one year.”
For the New York-born son of Puerto Rican parents — his father a political consultant, his mother a psychologist — it was just another phase of a lifelong fascination with the Oscars that began when he was growing up in the Inwood section of Manhattan, playing and replaying the telecasts that his family recorded on their VCR. At 37, Miranda is about to cross the threshold from superfan to participant: “How Far I’ll Go,” which he wrote for the Disney film Moana, is nominated for original song, and on Feb. 26, Miranda (with his mother) will attend his first Academy Awards.
It’s an auspicious step in a career that will see him star with Emily Blunt and Colin Firth in Disney’s 2018 Mary Poppins Returns and collaborate with composer Alan Menken on the studio’s live-action The Little Mermaid, one of Miranda’s favorite films and, he reveals here, the gateway to his Oscars obsession.
My brain is a compendium of Oscar moments: Tom Hanks’ beautiful acceptance speech when he won best actor for Philadelphia in 1994. Roberto Benigni climbing over chairs and wanting to make love to everybody in the world when Life Is Beautiful won best foreign-language film in 1999. Kim Basinger presenting in 1990 and telling the audience that one of the best films of the year, Do the Right Thing, was not nominated. For her to take a stand, 25 years before #OscarsSoWhite, was incredible — and impressive because time has shown the prescience of that film.
I expect we’ll see more of that this year. It’s a political time, so I imagine the Oscars will look exactly like your Twitter or Facebook feed. Why should we ignore for three hours what we’re talking about 24 hours a day?
The Oscars were always a family affair when I was a kid. One sort of unintentional tradition we had every year was during the “In Memoriam” part of the show. My family called it the “She died?” section because my dad, who is pop culture-oblivious, would always go, “She died? He died? She died?!” the whole time. So, it was very sad and yet also very funny watching my dad catch up.
When I was a kid, the Oscars felt like this impossibly larger-than-life thing. The first time I felt like I had a horse in the race was in 1990. I was 10, and The Little Mermaid was up for best song and best score. They did that crazy “Under the Sea” number with the late, great Geoffrey Holder and dudes in scuba outfits tap-dancing with flippers. We had a tradition of recording the show on our VHS, and I must have watched it a million and a half times.
There was also an amazing Chuck Workman montage at the beginning of the show that depicted 100 years of filmmaking with classic scores. I was already in love with movies, but this was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.
That was the period when Billy Crystal was hosting, and I would memorize his musical spoofs of the year’s top films. He did them with Marc Shaiman, whom I’m working with right now on Mary Poppins Returns… I was a huge fan of those moments and musical numbers — they showed a genuine love of movies while still poking fun at them. I may also be the only person in America who laughed his ass off to “Uma, Oprah. Oprah, Uma.” David Letterman’s commitment to that bit was enough to put it over the top for me. He didn’t care if no one got it. In his head, it was funny.
Hosting the Oscars is not a thing I would ever want to do… You always have to do this dance as a host: You’re playing to a billion people at home, and you’re playing to anxious contestants in a room, and that’s an insanely hard thing to divide. It’s the most thankless task in the world. I have a pretty healthy ego, but it does not extend in that direction. I’d much rather be the guy writing the opening tune than having to deliver it.
Another Oscar moment that really stuck with me was when Whoopi won her best supporting actress for Ghost. I’ll never forget, at the top of her acceptance speech she said, “Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted this,” which is so rare. Then she said, “As a little kid, I lived in the projects, and you’re the people I watched. You’re the people who made me want to be an actor.” For me, it was like she was saying, “If you want this, you can get it, too. I’m proof that you can.”
I had been seeing myself in this world since I was old enough to do anything, and it was as if she reached through the screen to talk to me. I was that kid. Even my mother used to say, “Remember what Whoopi said.”
There’s a kid in the middle of nowhere sitting there, living for Tony performances singin’ and flippin’ along with the Pippins and Wickeds and Kinkys, Matildas and Mormonses / So we might reassure that kid and do something to spur that kid / ‘Cause I promise you all of us up here tonight, We were that kid and now we’re bigger
Another of my favorite moments was in 2005, when they had Antonio Banderas sing “Al Otro Lado Del Rio” from The Motorcycle Diaries, which was nominated for best song. And then when Jorge Drexler, who composed it, won, he went onstage and sang it, like, “This is how it really goes.” It was so funny and ballsy and great. I’m happy whenever Latinos win anything, so I was thrilled by both performances.
I can’t tell you what it feels like in that room because this will be my first time at the Oscars, but I can tell you why the Oscars matter. It’s a night when the arts and artists are formally honored, and this recognition is seen by millions of people across the country and around the world. The show inspires people to keep pursuing their craft, or to seek out the nominated films or the overall body of work of the nominees, and through that exposure, people gain a greater appreciation of what the art of filmmaking brings to our culture.
Take two of the biggest movie stars on the planet, make them the leads of a movie directed by someone fresh off his first Oscar nomination for directing an Oscar-winning Best Picture nominee, give them a $110 million budget, and a script that was near the top of Hollywood’s annual Blacklist of the best unproduced scripts on the market, with a premise that sees the two popular, conventionally attractive leads stranded alone together in outer space (a very in vogue concept at the moment after Gravity and The Martian), and have them fall in love. Sounds like the recipe for a major hit, right? Well, what all of these ingredients led to instead was Passengers, one of the worst movies of this or any year. So where did it all go wrong?
You can put some of the blame on the stars, Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence, whose wooden, passionless performances make it seem like they’ve never heard of the concept of charisma or screen presence. Some of it can go to director Morten Tyldum, whose knack for creativity, precision and sheer entertainment value in his directing seems to be conversely related to how high his budget goes – the more money put into a film, the less he seems to care. Some of it can even go to the production team, with a bland and unoriginal set design that feels like it was made up of discarded parts left over from other, much better films set in outer space. Ultimately though, the meat of the responsibility for the cataclysmic disaster that is Passengers belongs to the script from Jon Spaihts (Prometheus, Doctor Strange), a new nadir representing how little credibility that annually touted Blacklist actually has. Some of the scripts from the list have led to great films (The Social Network, The Wolf of Wall Street), but Passengers joins the ranks of Red Riding Hood and All About Steve (really) as utterly heinous creations derived from what are supposedly some of the “best” scripts out there. The most insane thing here is that the original script, the one that made it onto the Blacklist, is somehow even worse than the one that they used to shoot the film! Which is saying a lot, because Passengers starts bad and only gets a whole lot worse by the time it reaches its stupefying finale.
Beyond the fact that the script for Passengers is loaded with recycled ideas, very poor backstory (Pratt’s character has literally zero history or inner life, and his only defining trait seems to be that he’s a mechanic, and Lawrence’s doesn’t fare much better), and absolutely no sense of awareness of its own storytelling universe, the movie is doomed from conception by a core idea that makes it one of the most repugnant and irresponsible movies ever made. No spoilers here, but an event at the end of the first act (which the trailers make out to be the BIG REVEAL of the whole movie), paints events in a shockingly loathsome light where it becomes impossible to invest in this story the way that the movie wants you to. Now this didn’t have to entirely derail the film, as they could have gone into a dark, incredibly interesting direction that explored the characters in a far more meaningful way. What they do instead, however, is implausibly pepper over this atrocious development with a lazy and generic third act, which then becomes even worse by not only refusing to condemn the problematic issue, but actively leaning into it and treating this as if it is the grand epic romance of our time. Passengers so transparently wants to be the new Titanic, but with the way this thing is written it’s like if the romantic heroes of Titanic at the end were Kate Winslet and Billy Zane’s characters. Except somehow it’s even worse. This isn’t just a bad movie – it’s morally reprehensible, and deeply troubling that everyone thought that this was an acceptable way to treat this story and sell it to the masses.