Black tie, white actors is the unfortunate dress code at this year’s Academy Awards

Oscar night is this Sunday, the Super Bowl for sparkle and silver screen schmaltz — and in an age where married couples share one bed while streaming on two different iPads, it remains one of the last televised events that everyone can gather to watch live. Grasping for big ratings, ABC surely feels the Academy Awards’ inherent dichotomy. The show wants to be fresh and exciting, but its charm truly lies in how little it has changed over the years and how uncool the whole procession really is. It is at its heart a three-hour-long endurance test usually hosted by a comedian only my grandmother could consider young. But that’s the Oscars! Someone, over the course of the night’s speeches, will tearfully proclaim, “No matter who you are, if you work hard and believe, you can grow up to do anything.” You cannot, however, work hard to become an Academy Award winner. That is not something earned, but something chosen for you, which is why celebrities are so quick to say, “It’s an honor just to be nominated.” 

This year, filling the 20 different spaces allotted for hopeful winners in acting, the Academy has, for the second year in a row, nominated only white actors. Twenty open spots is a lot of chances for the Academy to bestow the honor of being nominated on even one actor or actress of color. If we combine the years together, that is 40 spots — if I started polling people on the street I’m not sure many could list 40 contemporary actors without eventually naming Samuel L. Jackson (who did not receive a nomination for lead actor in “The Hateful Eight.”)

The Oscars have always held a tricky relationship with the subject of race. In his 2006 Oscar speech, George Clooney highlighted Hattie McDaniel as evidence of the award show’s importance. In 1940, McDaniel became the first African American to be nominated for acting, winning for her role as Mammy in “Gone with Wind.” The film’s producers had to negotiate with The Ambassador Hotel’s whites-only policy so that McDaniel could even attend. She was placed at a segregated table in the back against the wall, yet through grace of character, still said as she received her award, “Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, fellow members of the motion picture industry and honored guests: This is one of the happiest moments of my life, and I want to thank each one of you who had a part in selecting me for one of their awards, for your kindness.” 

Hollywood would go on to typecast Hattie McDaniel as “the maid” for the rest of her career, but perhaps her other legacy, if just as complicated, is this: if you can name an A-list black actor or actress, there’s a high probability they’ve been nominated for an Academy Award. Of course, Sidney Poitier, the first black man to be nominated (twice) for Best Actor, won for “Lilies of the Field” in 1964. But try playing the game. How about Will Smith? Nominated twice, in 2002 for “Ali” and in 2007 for “The Pursuit of Happyness.” Denzel Washington? Won twice, for “Glory” in 1990 and “Training Day” in 2002. Oprah? Nominated (“The Color Purple”). Whoopi Goldberg? Won (“Ghost”).  Laurence Fishburne and Angela Bassett? Both nominated (“What’s Love Got to Do With It?”) Don Cheadle? Cicely Tyson? Diana Ross? All nominated (“Hotel Rwanda”, “Sounder”, and “Lady Sings the Blues”). Terrence Howard and Taraji P. Henson of “Empire”? Both nominated (“Hustle & Flow” and “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”). Even Eddie Murphy and Queen Latifah have been nominated (“Dreamgirls” and “Chicago”). Morgan Freeman? Four-time nominee and winner for “Million Dollar Baby.” Jamie Foxx won (“Ray”). Cuba Gooding Jr. won (“Jerry Maguire”). Forest Whitaker won (“The Last King of Scotland”). Halle Berry won (“Monster’s Ball”). 

In case the mistaken takeaway is that the Academy Awards recognizes talent regardless of race, consider how bright that list of stars is. Each of them a household name compared to virtually unknown white actors the judges too often select (this year Brie Larson, Saoirse Ronan, Mark Rylance and Alicia Vikander will find their names entered into Google next to “who is?”) There’s no coincidence in the correlation between Hollywood’s need to dig up a new Chris every six months (Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pine, Chris Pratt, Chris Soules — no, wait, that’s The Bachelor) while Samuel L. Jackson (nominated in 1995 for “Pulp Fiction”) makes a movie every year. With the few film roles available to black actors and actresses, those who make it are at the top of their game, the best of the best, with the honed skills to have lengthy careers as long as there is a place at the table. While the seating at the awards may no longer be segregated, by limiting this year’s invitations to only white actors, it doesn’t much matter.

The Oscars will never quite be an artful affair, or cool, or end at a reasonable hour on the East Coast. There will always be poorly written presenter banter, some weird dresses and the misunderstanding that anyone, anywhere, likes watching a flummoxed star pointlessly rattle off a list of names. But if the Oscars is going to endure as the glamorous, must-watch live event of Hollywood, it should strive to reflect the audience it craves, and its hokey charm should be open to everyone with talent worth recognizing. Especially those with the talent to endure talking to Ryan Seacrest.

Alexander Wilburn lives in Salisbury.