Eight Documentaries That Prove The Academy Awards Are A Joke

I know this isn't even the right time of year to be thinking about this, but I was hoping to maybe get some sort of committee together to overturn the arcane rules that govern the nominating of the best documentary feature for the Academy Awards. There's something wrong here.

Over the years, many great documentaries have not only failed to get the OscarTM, but even managed to be overlooked in the nominations. These are good films. Sure, they're the more popular documentaries, and I wholeheartedly agree that the most popular is frequently not the best made. I can understand their motivations in wanting some lesser-known films to get some deserved publicity, but we're talking about documentaries here. Even the largest grossing ones are no where near the Jurassic Park league.

Here are a list of some of their more egregious omissions.

Roger & Me (1989, dir. Michael Moore.)
It's hard enough to make a movie be either funny or angry -- this one manages to be both. Unflinching and yet human, the desperation is funny but sad. Not even trying to be objective, Mr. Moore simply wants something to be done about his home town. It's much more of a one man fighting the system kind of movie than anything Charles Bronson or Jean-Claude Van Damme has ever done. If America's conception of its conscience looked less like a miniature angel perched on its left shoulder and more like Michael Moore pointing a camera in its face, the world would be a better place. Subsequent films like The Big One and the fictional Canadian Bacon are generally disappointing, if you're looking for more of the same check out his television shows, TV Nation and The Awful Truth.

Fast, Cheap & Out Of Control (1997, dir. Errol Morris.)
I like Errol Morris.  But my personal favorite is Fast, Cheap & Out Of Control. With nausea inducing hand-held work cut with static talking head shots, the documentary format isn't normally known for its cinematography. But this film is one of the most visually beautiful films ever, fiction or non-fiction. The real mystery, however, is what do a scientist obsessed with hairless moles, a robotic insect inventor, a topiary gardener, and a lion tamer have in common? The answer is: more that you think.

Hoop Dreams (1994, dir. Steve James.)
I don't like sports. I've never liked sports. I figured that since we've evolved to the point where we don't have to hunt and kill our own food, the need to reward physical prowess is kind of passé. That, and I just don't care who wins. Whether or not the group of people who are paid millions of dollars to live six months out of the year in the same area code I do win a game matters nothing to me. I'm not playing, so I'm not winning (or losing). And really, the time and dedication it takes to become a really good athlete tends to leave one with the charisma and personality of cardboard (rented Kazaam or Space Jam lately?) But because I got to know these two kids in Hoop Dreams, I began to really care about what happens to them, and the outcome of their games starts to have some sort of emotional impact for me. If only they could've had someone following and documenting every other player in the league -- maybe then I'd watch a game.

American Movie (1999, dir. Chris Smith.)
Cinema has plenty of cautionary tales about naive young starlets coming out to Hollywood only to be chewed up by the star-making system. But here's another parable for you: one about the importance of not staying in Minneapolis (in your parent's basement) until you're 30 making movies. Sure, there are plenty of people like Richard Linkletter and Robert Rodriguez who've been able to take a small low-budget film into Hollywood superstardom. But seeing this modern-day Ed Wood attempt to break into the big time is heartening in its showing of the indominance of the human spirit. It is also utterly depressing in its portrayal of the futility of mankind's dreams. Also pretty damn funny.

42 Up (1998, dir. Michael Apted.)
Or 35 Up or 28 Up or... Michael Apted interviewed a group of seven year old children for the BBC in 1964. The idea was to see if one's outlook and prospects in life had already been determined by their socioeconomic positions by that early age. So he asked a wide variety of kids questions about every possible subject. Since then, he has returned every seven years to see how close their predictions came. It's kind of sad seeing how utterly predictable human life is. We like to see ourselves as making lots of large sharp turns in response to various stimuli, but when looked at from a distance, the curve of our lives is fairly smooth, steady, and generally downhill.

I Just Wasn't Made For These Times (1995, dir. Don Was.)
Beach boy Brian Wilson is a strange, fascinating man who has lead a interesting life, and a great movie could be made about it. However, this movie isn't it. That's because this documentary isn't made by a filmmaker. Rather, it's directed by Don Was, mastermind behind Was (Not Was) -- remember "Walk The Dinosaur"? -- and record producer for such luminaries as Bonnie Raitt, Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones and Ringo Starr. This is a movie from a musician's point of view, so Brian's self-imposed three year exile to his bedroom and 24-hour a day psychotherapy from another genuine crackpot are barely skimmed over. However, we do get several minutes of some music professor explaining how revolutionary the chord changes in "Warmth Of the Sun" are. One minor quibble: there are no reasons artistically (we're just looking at people talking) or financially (he has the money after all) for this movie to be in black and white. Normally I prefer B&W, but here it just seems to be saying "look at me, ma, I'm making a movie".

Microcosmos (1996, dir. Claude Nuridsany and Marie Pérennou.)
Nature documentaries try and show us the typical life of a species by just showing us a certain group of them. That's like trying to determine how humans really live by just picking one family (what if it were the Jacksons, for heaven's sake.) Instead of trying to show us an example of all of its species, this wordless French documentary makes us care about certain insects as individuals. We get excited, feel sorry for, root for (or against) certain personalities that we began to see amongst the buggies. Unbelievable close-ups give us a real sense of who these bugs are. This flick is not for those who don't like insects.

Wild Man Blues (1997, dir. Barbara Kopple.)
Woody Allen's insistence that he is not the character he plays will get tested and proven in this documentary. Granted, Barbara Kopple did win an Oscar for Harlan County USA, but this film is far more fascinating. The surprise twist is who the real surrogate parent is in the Woody-Soon Yi relationship. Plus, the final scene with Woody's parents make all those years of (and jokes about) psychotherapy seem totally justified. Also fitting into this category is Terry Zwigof's Crumb, portrait of an artist as a cranky old jerk. It's a fascinatingly honest if not exactly flattering look at an artist whose art I never really cared about before. And now, I can totally dislike him. But at least I can see why he's like that. The real question is, why did these subjects let themselves look so bad on screen?

And these are not all - check out these others that the Academy missed:

HEARTS OF DARKNESS
Eleanor Coppola show us that the making of "Apocalypse Now" was as strange, pointless and un-ended as the movie itself. Or the Viet Nam War for that matter.

MR. DEATH
The dorky underbelly of Evil itself...

THIN BLUE LINE
None of Errol Morris's films have won Oscars, but this one did win freedom for a man sitting on death row in Texas. (Take that George W.!)

BROTHER'S KEEPER
Weird neighbors...

20 DATES
Self-promotive, self-destructive, self-centered exercise in filmmaking that is THIS close to not being believable.

TREKKIES
"Star Trek", much like the Grateful Dead, cannot possibly be half as fascinating as those who follow it.

ATOMIC CAFE
I'm not sure how much it really counts as a documentary, but says a lot more about our national nuclear phobia (and naiveté) by not saying anything at all, but just presenting these films un-commented on.

GIRL NEXT DOOR
Okay, I still haven't seen "Live Nude Girls Unite" yet, but how do you get even more intimate with a subject who takes off her clothes for the camera? Go really inside of her. Disturbing footage of a boob job in progress...

THE EYES OF TAMMY FAYE
Who'd ever think I'd feel sympathy for this woman?

Anyways, I haven't seen any really good documentaries this year (I've yet to view Start Up.com or Live Nude Girls Unite!), but I still think we can start sending petitions to Jack Valenti now and see if we can't get something done, with caution. As poor as a lot of the Oscar choices are (Marissa Tomei?!?), the last thing we want them to become is the viewer's choice awards. Don't popular movies already get all the awards they want when they manipulate the audience into emptying their wallets?

Not that I'm bitter.  

~ Scot Livingston