Little Miss Sundance

A lot of Sundance consists of people discussing the big picture, which hardly leaves room for considering the far-off prospects of Best Picture. Robert Redford opened the festival this year announcing that products are defined as commercial when the "mainstream" deems them so. The nominations for the 79th Annual Academy Awards, announced early this morning by Salma Hayek, provided a reminder that festivals don't just feed the mainstream—they're inextricably bound to it. The nomination of Little Miss Sunshine, the big purchase of last year's festival, for best picture and original screenplay, speaks to the intense campaigning of the film that gradually unfolded in the months following its theatrical debut. The film's success echoes the marketing strategy of last year's Oscar winner, Crash—another festival film that made its way to the top of Academy voters' lists through late-in-the-game campaigning. In a mildly interesting upset, the supposed shoo-in for the BP slot, Dreamgirls, didn't make the top spot (but it did receive more nominations than any other movie in the running).

The only reason to care about all this stuff (aside from the opportunity for shameless celebrity ogling during the telecast) is the unquestionable fact that Oscar wins sustain a movie's shelf life. Other Best Picture candidates won't fall off the public's radar anytime soon, given their association with established filmmakers (Clint Eastwood, Martin Scorsese, Stephen Frears, and Robert De Niro) and typical weighty subject matter associated with movies eventually dubbed as classics (WWII in Letters from Iwo Jima, corrupt cops in The Departed, media and politics in The Queen, CIA woes in The Good Shepherd). But Sunshine,the premiere feature for husband and wife team Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton, seems to have lifted off at Sundance 2006 and never lost momentum. It does have major stars like Steve Carrell and Greg Kinnear, but they're hardly powerhouse entities like Jack Nicholson or Matt Damon.

Speaking of leading men, the best actor category is also very curious this year. I personally think that Sacha Baron Cohen's non-nomination for Borat is surprising, since it would have been sort of like Johnny Depp's nomination for the first Pirates movie; then again, Baron Cohen's routine has more in common with performance art than conventional acting, which makes me wonder if the criteria for each category has grown suspect. Why didn't they nominate Michael Moore for best actor in Fahrenheit 9/11? (Borat makes people similarly uncomfortable.) Anyway, the most exciting prospect is Ryan Fleck getting nominated for Half Nelson, another movie that made its way to the top after last year's Sundance (and more deservedly so than Sunshine). I won't bother to comment much on Leonardo Dicaprio's nomination for that forgettable action-packed spectacle Blood Diamond, except to point out that it draws attention to the lack of actor noms for The Departed, despite more seemingly potential candidates than you could count on one hand. This very well could be the the year of triumphant smaller films.

This sudden spike in Oscar fever draws attention to the lack of obvious BP candidates showing this year. Grace is Gone really only has three actors and its story is very small. It would be interesting if John Cusack scored a nod (asssuming the movie opens this year), but first people have to see the movie. Snow Angels has enough strong performances and directorial skill to make some movement—yet the backlash to the triumph of Crash might make it difficult to market a movie that dwells in tragedy (especially if Babel wins something this year), even though Angels is far superior to Paul Haggis' incessantly presumptuous epic. The Steve Buscemi-directed Interview might make some noise if it arrives at the right time, unless its story suggests a certain anti-journalist (but not anti-journalism) slant that could anger media folks. And believe it or not, they can make a difference.