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Honor Just to Be Asked In, as Film Academy Tightens Its Ranks
LOS ANGELES — The Academy
of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, once the chummiest club in show
business, is becoming more artsy and indie-minded just as much of the Hollywood
establishment hoped to make it more commercial.
A new admissions policy that began in 2004 was aimed at curtailing growth in
the 81-year-old academy, which officials felt was getting too unwieldy. The
5,810 active members decide who wins Academy Awards, making them not only the
movie world’s most powerful body but also among the country’s most influential
cultural tastemakers, alongside the likes of the American Academy of Arts and
Letters, the Pulitzer
Prize board and those three judges on “American Idol.”
But, five years in, the revised system is also changing the makeup of the
academy in ways that were not entirely expected, tilting it away from the
Hollywood regulars and shoo-ins who once filled its actor-rich ranks and toward
a more international and indie-film membership. That promises more Oscar
contests fought among films like “There
Will Be Blood,” “Babel” and “Little
Miss Sunshine,” all recent contenders, even as the academy struggles to
raise sagging ratings by making its annual televised ceremony more mainstream
and commercial.
Over all an institution long defined by Hollywood familiars like Ed Begley
Jr. and Henry
Winkler, powerful members of its actors branch, is becoming more tightly
focused on films than on the industry that makes them. For decades the rap
against the academy was that it was too old, too conservative and too full of
Hollywood insiders. The new policy was supposed to tighten admissions in the
academy’s branches — from actors to executives — partly in the hopes that it
would result in a leaner, younger and more forward-looking membership.
In practice this means that many who might have waltzed in under the old
policy now find it harder to become voting members. Take the case of the
producer Russell Smith.
Mr. Smith recently learned that his longtime producing partner, Lianne
Halfon, with whom he shared a credit on the best picture nominee “Juno” and other
films, was invited to join the academy. And he was not.
“There’s absolutely no rhyme or reason to it,” Mr. Smith said.
He was squeezed out by an admissions committee that simply did not have room
for both partners, though they were almost equally matched. And new members have
tended to look more like Florian
Henckel von Donnersmarck, a German filmmaker who joined after his drama, “The
Lives of Others,” was named best foreign-language film of 2006.
“Every time I walk through the doors of the academy building, I experience
what I would imagine a pious Catholic could feel as he walks through the portal
of St. Peter’s Cathedral in Rome,” Mr. von Donnersmarck wrote in a blurb for the
academy’s recent annual report.
Actors, who traditionally dominated the rolls, have lost ground, as their
branch became especially fussy about admissions. At the same time executive
members have picked up strength, as have foreigners — roughly a quarter of the
115 new members invited in 2007, for instance, worked on films like “Pan’s
Labyrinth” and “The
Queen” — and those from the independent film world.
The financial stakes are considerable. The last Oscar telecast, in February,
was the least watched on record with about 32 million domestic viewers. But the
academy’s awards-related revenue was up, to $73.7 million, from $70.2 million a
year earlier, thanks in large part to an escalating license fee from the ABC
network, which has committed to broadcast the show in the United States through
2014. To help reverse the ratings slide, producers of the 2009 show have said
they expect to highlight crowd pleasers like “The
Dark Knight” or “Wall-E,” whether these films receive nominations or
not.
Still, academy leaders are betting on an internal policy that emphasizes
class over mass. Essentially it allows the group’s 15 branches to replace those
who die or withdraw — a total of about 120 a year — while adding an apportioned
share of up to 30 new members, though all are encouraged to stop short of the
limit. Previously each branch set the number of admissions on its own.
An important element of the new policy insists that each year’s Oscar
nominees be closely considered as new members, even if that leaves less room for
the kind of popular performers, say Buddy
Hackett or Dom DeLuise, who were freely admitted in the past.
Thus Adriana
Barraza, nominated for an Oscar for her role as a Mexican nanny in “Babel”
but little known in the United States, got in. On the other hand Seth
Rogen — never nominated though widely admired as the writer or star of hits
like “Superbad” and “Knocked
Up” — has yet to seek admission. The new process would require two members
to propose him; then his career would be subjected to a secret committee debate
by fellow actors who can make private school admissions or fraternity rush look
pleasant by comparison.
Cagier aspirants seek proposal letters from those on a membership committee,
figuring they will stand a better chance in the annual May scramble if their
backers can horse-trade in the room.
“I sign all the rejection letters,” said Bruce Davis, the academy’s executive
director, and a principal force behind the membership clampdown.
In an interview last week Mr. Davis declined to discuss Mr. Smith’s
rejection, other than to point out that each academy branch was struggling to
contain admissions that had been more than double the current level.
The group rejects about as many petitioners as it admits. Membership
proposals dropped sharply, to about 225 a year, from more than 400, as word
spread that the crack-down was real.
Speaking by telephone on Wednesday, Mr. Davis talked freely of patterns —
some anticipated, some not — that surfaced among the 579 new members invited
since 2004.
The actors’ branch shrank more quickly than expected, to 21 percent, or 1,222
members, at present from over 23 percent, or 1,389 members, in 2000. The falloff
occurred, Mr. Davis said, as Tom
Hanks and others on the branch’s governing committee, tightening the rolls,
in some years admitted only a little more than half of their allotment of 28 or
so.
This year the branch offered no invitation to Ellen
Page, who was nominated for the lead actress for her role in “Juno.” Neither
did it open the doors to Casey
Affleck, nominated for his supporting role in “The
Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford”; nor Amy
Ryan, nominated for her supporting role in “Gone Baby
Gone”; nor Saoirse
Ronan, nominated for her supporting role in “Atonement.”
The actors’ branch, Mr. Davis said, might have gone too far. “I need to start
urging them in the other direction,” he said.
By contrast, Mr. Davis acknowledged, the film executive branch has been
notably aggressive in filling its slots, leading to a slight expansion, to 436
members, from 429 in 2000, even as other groups have dropped.
“They’ve now had a serious conversation about it, and they’ve vowed to make
amends,” Mr. Davis said. Expansion among the executives, and to a lesser degree
among publicists, occurred in part as seven Sony Pictures executives made the
cut despite — or perhaps to help reverse — a long streak without a best picture
nominee from its lead Columbia Pictures division.
Like the actors, the writers have been shrinking their branch: It is down 10
percent, to 388 members, from 431 eight years ago.
Directors are roughly at par, with 375 members, down just four since 2000.
New director admissions have been heavily peppered with artists from abroad,
like Sergei
Bodrov, who made “Mongol,” and
distinctly independent filmmakers like Nicole Holofcener, the writer and
director of “Lovely
and Amazing.”
Most, though not all, accept if invited. George
Lucas remains a holdout, Mr. Davis said, despite lobbying by Sidney Ganis, a
former LucasFilm executive who is now president of the academy.
Speaking by telephone last week Ms. Halfon said she considered declining her
membership out of deference to Mr. Smith. But she ultimately joined out of fear
that refusal would hurt her future prospects.
Mr. Davis said it did not work that way — or, at least, not for everyone. Woody
Allen, he reckons, has been invited about 16 times but has never joined.
Then, there is the matter of Marlon
Brando. He famously declined his best actor Oscar for “The
Godfather” in 1973, and his academy membership lapsed several times, Mr.
Davis said.
About two years before his death in 2004, however, Brando asked to be
reinstated, mostly so he would receive screeners, the coveted promotional DVDs
sent to Oscar voters of films not yet in release. “He wanted to make sure he
could see all the movies on video,” said Mike
Medavoy, an executor of Brando’s estate.
It worked. “Marlon Brando died a member,” Mr. Davis
said.