For such a critically and commercially successful film, Gravity has become weirdly polarizing. One camp of viewers seems to have found it technically stunning but narratively lacking, while the other camp was completely seduced by its marriage of jaw-dropping craftsmanship and intimate storytelling. Yet as much discussion as Gravity has generated, few people seem to actively dislike it; those denigrating it tend to frame their feedback as less absolute (“It was a bad movie”) than relative (“It was a good movie, but …”). That’s because, ignoring the physicists carping about the film’s alleged lack of aeronautical realism, audiences seem to have reached consensus that the technical aspects of Alfonso Cuarón’s space thriller are objectively astonishing. People may have quibbled with Gravity‘s story, but there’s no disputing its skill. Or, to cast the debate in the somewhat archaic language of cinematic snobbery: Not everyone necessarily thinks Gravity is a good film, but virtually everyone agrees that it’s a good movie.
And this makes its Oscar candidacy absolutely fascinating. The Academy Awards have never been shy about honoring technically superlative features that achieved box-office stardom; Star Wars won six Oscars, while Terminator 2: Judgment Day, Peter Jackson’s King Kong, The Matrix, and Inception all won four. Hell, even Avatar and The Bourne Ultimatum—which is about as unpretentious as mainstream movies get—took home three Oscars apiece. But rarely do such smash hits double as high art, and while those seven movies combined for 28 Oscars, exactly zero came in major categories (i.e., Best Picture, Director, Screenplay, or any of the acting fields). So, although the Academy is more than happy to invite fantastical blockbusters to its party, it generally keeps them at the kids’ table. Read More