I might have given him one for Amores perros. I might have given him one for 21 Grams. Probably even two. I might have given him one for Babel. I might have given him one for Biutiful.
But then I am not the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.
I am just a young guy obsessed with films, wanting to praise his hero who was finally awarded the 'Best Director' Oscar at the 87th Academy Awards.
Did Iñárritu deserve it more than Richard Linklater? I do not know.
Did Iñárritu deserve it more than Wes Anderson? I do not know.
Linklater's Before trilogy, in my opinion, is one of the best trilogy/series of films centered on human love. Anderson's Fantastic Mr Fox is one of my favorite stop-motion animation films. Even their films that were in competition - be it Boyhood or be it The Grand Budapest Hotel - are two of the finest pieces of filmmaking, as different as they may be with respect to their themes and treatment.
How then did Iñárritu win?
I do not care.
Alejandro González Iñárritu is one of my most favorite filmmakers, after all.
In 21 grams, he brought on screen a helpless Sean Penn strikingly different from the one in Mystic River and Dead Man Walking. In Babel, he brought on screen a deserted (!) Brad Pitt strikingly different from the one in Fight club and Troy. In Biutiful, he brought on screen a guilt-ridden Javier Bardem strikingly different from the one in No Country for Old Men. Even in Birdman, however familiar the Riggan Thomson character might sound to Michael Keaton's, the lead character was more intense and more different than Keaton had played/lived before.
A great director brings out the best of his actors and on that aspect, Iñárritu sure does earn the adjective.
Minimal use of music (Birdman, perhaps an exception), intense characterization, a continuous existential exploration, stories/screenplays that hold you/haunt you/hit you - when such traits define your body of work, artistic greatness wouldn't be at a very long distance.
These reasons suffice for the fan in me. Honestly, the fan might not even need the reasons.
But what about the film lover?
How could a director of a film describing the struggles of a to-be-forgotten actor trying to become a to-be-remembered actor be compared with the director of a film describing the poignant parts of a boy's life over the period of twelve years or the director of a dark comedy revolving around the (mis)adventures of a caretaker of a hotel and his employee?
Can art be compared?
Should art be compared?
The artist does get the deserved recognition but on what basis?
How does one say that a meta-film is better than a piece-of-life drama or vice versa? How does one say that a dark comedy is better than a biopic about an unrecognized, ingenious mathematician or vice versa?
How do you compare an eagle to a lion or to a whale?
I might go ahead putting forth many such questions but I guess Iñárritu's 'Best Director' acceptance speech sums it up.
"..talking about that little prick called ego. Ego loves competition. Because, for someone to win, someone has to lose. But the paradox is that, you know, true art - true individual expression - as all the works of these incredible fellow filmmakers can't be compared, can't be labelled, can't be defeated and our work only will be judged, as always, by time."
I might have given him one even for this speech.
But then I am not the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.
I am just a young guy obsessed with films, wanting to praise his hero who was finally awarded the 'Best Director' Oscar at the 87th Academy Awards.
Did Iñárritu deserve it more than Richard Linklater? I do not know.
Did Iñárritu deserve it more than Wes Anderson? I do not know.
Linklater's Before trilogy, in my opinion, is one of the best trilogy/series of films centered on human love. Anderson's Fantastic Mr Fox is one of my favorite stop-motion animation films. Even their films that were in competition - be it Boyhood or be it The Grand Budapest Hotel - are two of the finest pieces of filmmaking, as different as they may be with respect to their themes and treatment.
How then did Iñárritu win?
I do not care.
Alejandro González Iñárritu is one of my most favorite filmmakers, after all.
In 21 grams, he brought on screen a helpless Sean Penn strikingly different from the one in Mystic River and Dead Man Walking. In Babel, he brought on screen a deserted (!) Brad Pitt strikingly different from the one in Fight club and Troy. In Biutiful, he brought on screen a guilt-ridden Javier Bardem strikingly different from the one in No Country for Old Men. Even in Birdman, however familiar the Riggan Thomson character might sound to Michael Keaton's, the lead character was more intense and more different than Keaton had played/lived before.
A great director brings out the best of his actors and on that aspect, Iñárritu sure does earn the adjective.
Minimal use of music (Birdman, perhaps an exception), intense characterization, a continuous existential exploration, stories/screenplays that hold you/haunt you/hit you - when such traits define your body of work, artistic greatness wouldn't be at a very long distance.
These reasons suffice for the fan in me. Honestly, the fan might not even need the reasons.
But what about the film lover?
How could a director of a film describing the struggles of a to-be-forgotten actor trying to become a to-be-remembered actor be compared with the director of a film describing the poignant parts of a boy's life over the period of twelve years or the director of a dark comedy revolving around the (mis)adventures of a caretaker of a hotel and his employee?
Can art be compared?
Should art be compared?
The artist does get the deserved recognition but on what basis?
How does one say that a meta-film is better than a piece-of-life drama or vice versa? How does one say that a dark comedy is better than a biopic about an unrecognized, ingenious mathematician or vice versa?
How do you compare an eagle to a lion or to a whale?
I might go ahead putting forth many such questions but I guess Iñárritu's 'Best Director' acceptance speech sums it up.
"..talking about that little prick called ego. Ego loves competition. Because, for someone to win, someone has to lose. But the paradox is that, you know, true art - true individual expression - as all the works of these incredible fellow filmmakers can't be compared, can't be labelled, can't be defeated and our work only will be judged, as always, by time."
I might have given him one even for this speech.
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