It’s no secret that a lot of people in this town suffer from short-term memory loss, and around this time of year it’s practically an epidemic.
What do you suppose are the chances a well-reviewed film – starring two of Hollywood’s biggest stars – can open in February and still be remembered when Academy Award and Golden Globe ballots are put in the mail nearly 10 months later?
Fuggedaboudit.
Does this fragment of New York street vernacular sound familiar? It will if you’ve seen “Donnie Brasco,” Mike Newell’s film about a midlevel mobster and accomplished hitman (Al Pacino) and the undercover FBI agent he accepts as his protege, played by Johnny Depp.
The movie’s good-for-any-occasion signature phrase might have had a chance at being this year’s “Show me the money!” – if the picture had opened in December. Now, however, the backers of this distant cinematic memory are working overtime to remind voters and critics of the film’s many attributes.
First, of course, they send out video cassettes of the movie, schedule special screenings and take out ads in Variety and the Hollywood Reporter. What isn’t expected, though, is the “Donnie Brasco” tissue box that also arrives in the mail.
Lift the lid and what do you hear? “Fuggedaboudit,” of course.
Which is to say, don’t forget about it.
Each year at this time, the residents of Greater Hollywood are overcome with a mad desire to discuss movies. Not only is everyone a critic, but suddenly anyone with the price of a ticket becomes an expert on who will walk away with one of the many assorted statuettes handed out between January (Golden Globes and People’s Choice awards) and June (MTV Movie Awards).
But it’s the prospect of winning an Academy Award–or being able to predict who will win–that really gets the juices flowing.
Nominations won’t be announced until the second week in February, but by then the industry-wide Oscar campaign already will be six months old. Like any political race, it is extremely expensive, intensely competitive and occasionally vicious.
“We start thinking about it in August, because, by that time, we’ve probably seen rough cuts of all our films for the rest of the year, so we have an idea of what has a chance,” says Mark Gill, president of Miramax/Los Angeles. “Obviously, we cast the net wider than those movies that are sure-shots, because every year you get surprised.
“Two years ago, we started out saying, `Oh, what the heck, let’s throw in “The Postman” (“Il Postino”) just for fun.’ It turned out to be exactly the right thing to have done.”
Quasi-independent Miramax is one of the major players in this year’s Oscar race, just as it was last year with top dog “The English Patient” and, before that, the longshot import “Il Postino (The Postman).” Among its candidates for significant awards this go-round are “Good Will Hunting,” “The Wings of the Dove,” “Mrs. Brown,” “CopLand,” “She’s So Lovely” and “Jackie Brown.”
The company’s promotional ads can be found–along with those of every other studio and distributor in town–almost daily in the trade papers. Cassettes have been pouring through the mail to the 5,000-plus academy members, 100 or so Golden Globe voters and influential critics. Screening rooms have been booked for those who still prefer to see movies on the big screen.
The studios throw out their nets early because the critics’ 10-best lists and annual awards start coming out in the second week of December. These honors–along with the Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s Golden Globe nominations, which are announced on Dec. 18–encourage academy voters to start focusing on a select group of films.
Though a well-placed “Fuggedaboudit” might have been helpful in reminding voters that “Donnie Brasco” was released in 1997, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences has severely limited what items can be sent to its members.
“The implementation of these rules was a reaction to an ever-increasing extravagance of items: materials, coffee-table books, video-cassette packaging–the dreaded T-word, tchotchkes–to the point that members were calling here to complain,” said Ric Robertson, executive administrator of the academy. “The natural extension of this practice is the public and media’s perception of it.
“It just doesn’t look good, even if it doesn’t influence a member’s vote.”
In other words, if academy members want to experience the miracle of the talking tissue box, they’ll have to find someone in the media who might have received one in the mail.
“We’ve tried to limit the things sent to members to simply-packaged video cassettes . . . and CDs, recordings and sheet music related to eligible songs and scores,” Robertson said. “After nominations are announced, screenplays can go out in simple script format–but not as books or fancied up in any way.”
The academy also now forbids lobbying by phone, even when it comes in the guise of finding out if a cassette was delivered to a voter’s home. It does not, however, limit the amount of money that studios or individual performers can spend on their campaigns in the press, nor does it have any influence on other organizations’ practices.
One industry insider estimates that a midsize independent company might spend anywhere from $30,000 to $600,000 on a potential nominee, while a major studio might pump $500,000 to $1.5 million into each of its awareness campaigns. With between 20 and 30 films considered to be serious contenders for a top award, that means around $15 million is spent annually between Dec. 1 and Oscar night.
Naturally, this is music to the ears of bookkeepers at the city’s two major trade publications.
“It’s huge,” observed Charlie Koones, advertising publishing director at Variety. “It’s our Christmas . . . our summer box office.”
But that hasn’t always been the case.
Legend has it that the first “For your consideration . . .” ad was purchased by a single aggressive producer some 25 years ago. When it proved effective, there was no turning back.
Now, a full-page black-and-white ad costs $4,500, while color will push the tab to $7,000. Premium placement can add another 25 percent to the bill, and, as spring follows winter, elegant “Congratulations . . .” announcements will appear after nominations are announced.
“We start having conversations with the studios about their academy campaigns in August,” Koones says. “Placement is a huge issue. We instituted a lottery system a couple of years ago, because there are a number of studios that, if they could, would buy up every premium position. We think it’s necessary to treat everybody as equally as possible.”
Industry observers enjoy scrutinizing these ads–which generally feature blurbs from a higher class of critics than those used to launch a picture–to see who’s being pushed for which award, and who’s being left out. Needless to say, the stakes are high.
“It’s important because this is what builds careers and creates prestige,” said Gill. “For people who run studios, it might make a big difference in how long they last in their jobs.”
Mark Angellotti owns a successful entertainment marketing and public-relations firm, and has handled campaigns for most of the major studios. This year, he is working with Miramax.
“The academy was created as an adjunct to the studios’ labor negotiations,” said Angellotti, who is a voting member of the academy and a student of its annual event. “At first, the awards ceremony was very small–a dinner for 500 people–and it wasn’t broadcast. Still, there was behind-the-scenes negotiating, and people pulling strings.
“For the actors and filmmakers, an award meant they could demand more money. For the studios, it meant you could extend the life of a film in release. . . . It became very clear, over the years, that an Oscar translated into money.”
When TV came along, studios could demand more money for their award-winners from the networks. Today, video sales and rentals are greatly influenced by nominations and statuettes.
As studio executives, filmmakers and teams of independent publicists meet to work out their individual campaigns, one of the most important issues to be discussed is who should be included in an ad, especially in the acting categories. While voters can nominate anyone they deem qualified, studios do like to steer them in certain directions.
In ads for “L.A. Confidential,” for example, Warner Bros. wants voters to consider Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe in the Best Actor categories, while it hopes they will select Kevin Spacey and Kim Basinger for Best Supporting awards. It certainly can be argued that Spacey and Basinger should be considered leads, but that’s how the ticket is being split.
Similarly, Judi Dench gets the Best Actress nod for “Mrs. Brown,” while the equally convincing Billy Connolly is being pushed for a supporting prize. In “She’s So Lovely,” Sean Penn naturally is the candidate for Best Actor, but John Travolta aces out Harry Dean Stanton and Debi Mazar for attention in the supporting cast.
Gill said these decisions are based on several things, including reviews of the movie, screen time and the preferences of the actors themselves.
“With `She’s So Lovely,’ it was simply a case of the reviews being there for John, and they weren’t really for Harry or Debi,” he said. “In `Good Will Hunting,’ Robin Williams has a substantial role that, while it supports, is very prominent. We asked him if he wanted to be considered for Best Actor or Best Supporting Actor, and he said, `Definitely, supporting.’ “
Miramax helped changed the way voters and critics approached their annual task when, in 1991, it sent out cassettes of “Hear My Song,” a smallish independent film that starred Ned Beatty as a celebrated Irish tenor.
“That made everybody pay attention,” Angellotti recalls. “The practice was frowned upon, at first, because movies are meant to be seen on the big screen. But it became common practice in 1992 and 1993.”
He cited “Tom & Viv”–“a tiny picture that got two nominations”–and David Paymer’s nominated performance in the bomb “Mr. Saturday Night” as examples of how a cassette might have made a difference.
Not all members get every cassette. A picture deemed successful largely for its screenplay or for its use of wardrobe might be sent only to voters in those categories.
While valuable as promotional tools, many filmmakers pursue the video strategy with caution. Indeed, Steven Spielberg wouldn’t allow cassettes of “Schindler’s List” to be distributed to voters.
Gillian Armstrong’s “Oscar and Lucinda,” which opens on Dec. 31 in New York and Los Angeles, is a potential candidate for a Best Picture nomination. Its leads–Ralph Fiennes and Cate Blanchett–will get quite a bit of support in the acting categories, as well.
Armstrong’s concern is that her opulent Victorian romance won’t benefit from a translation to video cassette.
“It’s a dilemma,” she said. “It will go out, but only after the movie opens. . . . For `Oscar and Lucinda’ to be letter-boxed on a little video screen is sort of heartbreaking to me. But, at the same time, I know that more and more voters are just seeing videos. The actors’ performances are still great on cassette.”
Likewise, James Cameron has mixed feelings about the proliferation of cassettes. His “Titanic” won’t look nearly as epic on the small screen.
“I’m going to write a letter and send it along with each cassette,” Cameron said. “It will say, `Please, please, I implore you, if you have the time, go and see the film on the screen at the following locations, at the following times. We acknowledge your busy schedule. If you can’t see it as it was meant to be presented, this will be a good second choice.’
“The way this has evolved is that it’s become a divine right of academy members to get those tapes. It’s turned into this kind of monster. It’s not the way most films should be seen, but I’d rather that they see it on tape than not see it at all.”
Although the Golden Globes have received a bad rap in the past–it’s hard to forget the Pia Zadora star-of-the-future flap in 1982–they are looked upon now as a significant awards. The ceremony is given prominent play on television, which loves to showcase celebrity lovefests.
“They are very important to us for two reasons,” Gill said. “One, a lot of the movies that Miramax has aren’t instant commercial smashes, and they need the award’s stamp of approval. The other reason is, with that stamp of approval and the additional business the films do as a result, they become more credible in the eyes of academy voters.
“The academy tends not to vote for movies that haven’t done well commercially.”
Independent publicist Melody Korenbrot defends the Foreign Press Association against charges that its ranks are filled with reporters whose votes can be bought with trinkets.
“If I send them a bottle of Dom Perignon with a tape, it isn’t going to make a difference if the film isn’t any good,” she said. “As much as people want to say the tchotchkes can make or break you in this thing, they’re wrong.”
The Foreign Press Association also is acknowledged to have a pretty good eye for performances. Its nominations generally anticipate those of the academy and major critics’ groups, and stars turn out in droves for the ceremony.
Not all publicity campaigns work out as planned. There are, after all, only five nomination slots in each of the top categories, and everybody seems to be spending equal amounts of money.
“Last year, we mounted big, almost identical campaigns for two actors,” Gill recalled. “One was for Gwyneth Paltrow, who we loved in `Emma,’ and was like a friend of the court. The other was for Billy Bob Thornton in `Sling Blade.’
“For whatever reason, Billy Bob just took off and won lots of Oscar hearts, and went on his way, while Gwyneth’s campaign didn’t. No difference in the amount of work, although last year was a very competitive year for actresses.”
Is there a way to break the cycle and get back to a time when campaigns required less effort and expense?
“There’s a certain amount of self-fulfilling prophecy at work,” concedes one veteran consultant. “I was having a discussion with a client the other day, and asked, `What if we didn’t take out an ad?’
“He said, `It probably wouldn’t make any difference, but I don’t know if I want to take that chance.’ “
In other words, “Fuggedaboudit.”




