An issue humankind has repeatedly failed at rectifying since the dawn of man has been our inability to recognize artistic genius before it’s too late. Of course, it’s nigh-on impossible to identify every supremely talented individual, especially given the vastly subjective nature of art and whether the said art is aligned with the popular style of the period.
From Van Gogh to Edgar Allan Poe, society’s lack of discernment and awareness of the genius being created around them meant that melancholic creatives like Van Gogh and Poe left this life with neither the recognition they deserved nor the belief their lives had truly amounted to anything.
The Academy’s shunning of Paul Thomas Anderson is incomparable to the complete disregard of the aforementioned. However, that said, after 11 Academy Award nominations and not a single win to his name, is the film industry running the risk of doing a modern-day filmmaking mastermind a disservice and failing to acknowledge such obvious talent like so many of the great, under-appreciated artists before him? Or should an Academy Award be seen as such a qualifier to greatness at all?
A Serial Winner or a Sequential Failure?
Like art itself, adjudging success is subjective — it’s relative to the individual. A sole Oscar nomination is still, in itself, a prestigious achievement, which generally only those ignorant of the sheer dedication to acquiring such an honor would scoff at. That said, on 11 occasions the auteur, aptly born in Studio City, has been for one reason or another overlooked by the 10,000 members of The Academy of Arts and Sciences. It’s certainly unlike the Academy to have inherent prejudicial views … although, being a woman, Black, or gay definitely aren’t strikes against his name from the infamous perspective of the Academy, so how has he so narrowly missed out on so many instances?
Breaking Anderson's filmography down, the director has developed a catalog littered with stardust. From his debut feature Hard Eight, to his most recent release, Licorice Pizza, the director has harnessed quite the eclectic mix of movies, all of which have either deserved or garnered Academy attention, but arguably, none more so than 2007’s period epic, There Will Be Blood, a film that claimed Daniel Day-Lewis his second statuette, yet miraculously saw the Punch Drunk Love director miss out on the equivalent prize for his directorial abilities.
Typically, the Best Director award went to a picture equally lauded and debatably, more critically venerated, the Coen Brothers and their enigmatically brilliant, No Country for Old Men. If one was ever prepared to concede defeat, it would be to the two eminently distinguished, bespectacled brothers.
The Credibility of the Oscars and Their History of Injustice
From Alfred Hitchcock and Quentin Tarantino, to Akira Kurosawa, Orson Welles, and Sidney Lumet, the list of glaring omissions from Oscar glory is quite frankly depressing. Yet, here’s the thing — the Academy Awards don’t matter. They are neither definitive nor representative of opinion, and the existential question one must ask is: why would one take the word of an outdated, historically prejudiced institution as complete gospel?
This is a body so inherently political, that the injustices it has served up since its conception in the 1920s are numerous, with many instances of movies, actors, and directors winning the famous golden gong for reasons that certainly don’t include merit. Of course, the highly-anticipated annual Award ceremony has rightly honored some of those most deserving too, shaping our view on the prestige and status of a film or individual has regularly been owed to critical decoration.
It doesn’t take a student of film to appreciate that the prominent names of Hitchcock, Kubrick, and Lynch are unimpeachable faces of motion picture history, their influence has transcended decades of filmmakers, with their methods, techniques, and ideologies forming the very foundation of film as we know it. Their lack of Academy acclaim has never once hindered their god-like reputations, and if anything, their credibility as true pioneers of the silver screen is perhaps even more impressive as a result.
At the relatively tender age of 52 (and 53 this year), Paul Thomas Anderson, longevity permitting, has time on his side, and therefore years to demonstrate his immense dexterity to the squares at AMPAS. One thing is for sure, regardless of their acknowledgment, the greatest validation any Director can receive is the public adoration of their films.
Paul Thomas Anderson Will Always Be Known as a Filmmaking Great
Having never received a formal cinematic education in the form of film school, or screenwriting classes, Anderson picked up his filmmaking prowess by simply studying the work of avant-garde auteurism. The influence of Kubrick, and in some cases, Hitchcock can often be detected in his films, the use of juxtaposing soundtracks being one such obvious correlation.
Like most iconic directors, there is a notable difference between his early movies and his more recent projects; while some attribute this transformation to a process of maturation in both his writing and movie-making, it seems the exercise in refining, and rarefying his methods has resulted in a more measured, and detailed approach and this has shown on-screen too, with The Master and Phantom Thread boasting far more gathered, contemplative, and emotionally complex characters. His unmistakable color palette has also metamorphosed, transitioning from a kaleidoscopic rainbow cocktail in Punch Drunk Love, to hazier, more minimalistic '70s sepia in Inherent Vice and especially Licorice Pizza, one of the best comedy movies of 2021.
While his methods of storytelling have evolved over time, many of the director’s core values have remained, from his eye for dramatic shot composition and his ultra-attentive outlook on set design, to his films' hardcore intensity. Anderson is an artiste of the big screen, a pedantic composer, and a perfectionist. With his new picture set for production this Summer, it’s inevitable another nomination will come knocking, and whether it breaks his duck or not, one thing is for certain, no award will define his talents.