It’s time to place more women of color at the center of our film narratives.
Two Best Picture nominations at this year’s Academy Awards show seemed right on the nose in their parody of inclusive politics:
- The brilliant American Fiction, which won first-time director Cord Jefferson an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, satirized racially palatable but stereotypically one-note depictions of Black life and culture that appeal to non-Black audiences and cultural gatekeepers.
- Barbie, courtesy of Ryan Gosling’s humorous sendup to toxic masculinity via his portrayal of Ken and his raucous live performance of the Oscar-nominated song “I’m Just Ken,” offered one of the most biting critiques of patriarchy and feminism through the fun play of Barbie and Ken dolls in “Barbie world” (compared to the “real world”).
So, consider the irony when Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer “rode Barbie’s coattails” all summer in the promotion of “Barbenheimer“—as Gosling pointed out in a friendly banter with his co-presenter Emily Blunt during the Oscars telecast. Oppenheimer followed closely behind Barbie’s billion-dollar box office while receiving higher praise for its oh-so masculine-heavy (and therefore oh-so-serious) themes of phallic missiles, atomic bombs and the global machinations of the military industrial complex. Oppenheimer also won top awards for Best Picture and Best Director.
Talk about illuminating the “Kendom” takeover that a “girl’s movie” like Barbie can only protest through the soft criticism of satire while Greta Gerwig, who was not even nominated for Best Director, remained ever graceful during the entire Oscars show.
Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer ‘rode Barbie’s coattails’ all summer in the promotion of ‘Barbenheimer’—as Gosling pointed out in a friendly banter with his co-presenter Emily Blunt during the Oscars telecast.
Even though the Best Picture winner and the entire promotion for and telecast of this year’s Oscars leaned quite heavily on Barbie’s success and popularity, Gerwig’s film managed to only win one Oscar: Best Original Song for “What Was I Made For,” by Billie Eilish and her brother Finneas O’Connell, thus making Eilish the youngest winner with two Oscars at age 22 (she previously won two years ago for the James Bond theme song for No Time to Die).
For a song that gave the comedic film its emotional heft, this win is well deserved—but what of the film’s other nominations for its inventive work in production design, make-up and costume? Those went to Yorgos Lanthimos’ Poor Things, another sendup to the patriarchy but with more nudity and sex scenes.
Interesting how we take women’s stories more seriously when they show a little flesh (unless, of course, they are buff men like John Cena, and then the “threat” of male nudity becomes a comedic gag, as demonstrated during the telecast). Given the stark criticisms public women (especially women of color) face whenever they bare all or almost all, one cannot help but marvel at the discrepancies in how raced and gendered bodies are treated.
Of course, this doesn’t take away from the Best Actress win by Emma Stone for her starring role in Poor Things, and those who have seen her performance have given her high marks for originality in one of the weirder films nominated this year. Still, her win came at the expense of awarding Lily Gladstone—who had already won SAG and Golden Globe awards for their role in the historic Killers of the Flower Moon about the Osage murders—as the first Native American Best Actress winner. In a year of wars, conflict, talks of genocide (many artists wore red pins calling for a ceasefire in Gaza), and conservative right-wing forces banning non-white books and histories in schools, the opportunity to make a historic statement was truly missed because Academy voters prefer showy performances to Gladstone’s quiet one.
The diverse lineup of supporting actors showed up the glaring absence of women of color in leading roles.
Granted, as cultural critic Noah Berlatsky pointed out, some of this impact may have been hampered by director Martin Scorsese’s choice to center the white men in this movie, rather than let Gladstone truly lead by focusing on the story of Mollie Burkhart, who survived the systemic killings of her family by her white husband and his cronies. There seems to be difficulty, still, in not just deciding who to include in movies, but how to include them.
Despite a few technical glitches, this year’s Oscars telecast flowed smoothly and offered some noteworthy zingers (not necessarily from the barely funny host Jimmy Kimmel) as well as truly deserved wins—most notably Justine Triet’s suspenseful Anatomy of a Fall for Best Original Screenplay, the aforementioned American Fiction, and Da’Vine Joy Randolph for Best Supporting Actress for her role in The Holdovers.
And yet, as moving as it was to see previous Best Supporting Actress winners of color like Rita Moreno, Lupita Nyong’o and Regina King bestowing praise on this year’s nominees of color—respectively Barbie’s America Ferrera, Randolph and The Color Purple’s Danielle Brooks—the diverse lineup of supporting actors showed up the glaring absence of women of color in leading roles.
In Oscars’ 96-year history, we have only had two women of color Best Actress winners: Halle Berry in 2002 and, over 20 years later, Michelle Yeoh in 2023. Contrast that to the dozen supporting actress of color winners in the roster. Again, no one is denying anyone’s talent here, and often times, who eventually wins is determined by voting preferences, campaigning and the like.
Nonetheless, representations matter. And we are not lacking for opportunities to reward women of color in leading roles. Just this year, in addition to Lily Gladstone—the only woman of color nominated—we had stellar performances from Greta Lee (Past Lives), Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor (Origin) and Teyana Taylor (A Thousand and One).
Last year, Viola Davis (The Woman King) and Danielle Deadwyler (Till) were snubbed. Two Best Actress winners of color to a dozen supporting actress winners of color in a near-century-long awards show demonstrates quite uncomfortably the kinds of roles in which we are most comfortable seeing such women.
And if our culture is uncomfortable with women of color taking the lead in movies, then do we wonder why too many in our nation and world scoff at the likes of a Black female Harvard president, or even fear the possibility of a Black female U.S. vice president taking on the top job? We imagined Black Barbie as president in “Barbie World” (no wonder we could not validate Barbie with multiple awards for daring to dream up such scenarios!), but when will our play mirror our reality?
It’s time to place more women of color at the center of our film narratives and, as Cord Jefferson implored in his acceptance speech, it’s time for the cultural gatekeepers to fund and support more opportunities for diverse stories and talents
Obviously, every win is an accomplishment, and not every supporting role depicts subservience (often times, supporting actors steal the show) or even depicts the same story, as I once argued when comparing the enslaved Patsey (depicted by Lupita Nyong’o) to the enslaved Mammy by Hattie McDaniel (who made history as the first Black Oscar winner).
However, it’s time to place more women of color at the center of our film narratives and, as Cord Jefferson implored in his acceptance speech, it’s time for the cultural gatekeepers to fund and support more opportunities for diverse stories and talents.
I congratulate all Oscar winners this year, but it’s much too soon to pat Academy members on the back for doing the bare minimum of race and gender inclusivity.
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