The Academy Award Nominations were announced Tuesday, and while I don't put much stock in the awards themselves, it always grates on me to see certain films given the accolades that they are. This year's film: Ray.
With all due respect to The Day After Tomorrow, Ray is one of the worst films I've seen all year. It is the perfect example what's wrong with so many biopics. For those who haven't seen it (congratulations), the central struggle involves a drug-addiction storyline that could have been bought off the rack at a wholesaler's. And of course, the man who invented Soul is also tormented by an incident from his childhood, and the film actually ends with the ghost of his mother telling him it's not his fault. If that is not the worst kind of stock sentimental tripe, I don't know what is.
Of course most of the accolades have gone to Jamie Foxx's performance, and I'm not sure that he's undeserving. But what bothers me is the fact that everyone lauds his performance by saying "I thought it WAS Ray Charles." But isn't there a fine distinction between performance and impersonation? Martin Short does a hell of a Katherine Hepburn, but I'm not ready to call that the performance of the year. It's the kind of stunt acting the Academy Awards tend to recognize - make yourself blind and act like Ray Charles. There are tangible things we can point to, which I guess is preferable for those who aren't confident enough to just say "it was a powerful performance."
I don't quite buy into this notion of great performances in awful films. If a great performance is one that really resonates, how can that happen in a film that is laughably shallow? I'm sure Jamie Foxx was working his ass off, but when the entire collaboration produces such a silly film, you can't really go back, separate one aspect of it and say, "this is great." Even the attempt to do this is pretty unique to film appreciation. I've never heard someone say "that new White Stripes song sucks, but Jack White's performance is amazing."
But not to point the finger at Jamie Foxx, who may or may not be deserving of his nominations, when the person most clearly NOT deserving is Director Tyler Hackford. (Insert "Hack" joke here)
To take an artist as uncompromisingly original as Ray Charles and reduce them to a color-by-numbers portrait takes a special talent, and Mr. Hackford delivers in spades. The scene where Ray and his girlfriend compose "Hit the Road, Jack" while fighting with each other is so utterly false, it rings untrue to anyone who has ever written anything, including an e-mail.
I guess the saving grace is that, for all the hoopla of the award season, The Academy Awards ultimately don't define which films become part of the American Cinema Cannon. A stroll through the entrance to the Kodak Theater, where each Best Picture winner is etched on the wall, elicits more than a few "I've never heard of that's." Let's hope Ray becomes one of those films.
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