Christine Vachon 

Film-makers can defy Trump. Depicting the lives of others is an act of resistance

As storytellers we need to examine our own practices. Are we inclusive? Are we diverse? Are we telling stories that resonate for people right?
  
  

Cate Blanchett in the 2015 film Carol.
Cate Blanchett in the film Carol, which failed to get a best picture Oscar nomination last year. Photograph: tock/Moviestore/Rex/Shutterstock

At times like these it can seem hard to care about the Oscars race. Worrying about who might win best actress when we are in a state of political, social and moral chaos feels an indulgence. But recognition for films such as Moonlight, Fences and Hidden Figures is something we should care about. It does matter.

Celebrating other people’s stories is, in a small way, a protest against the current political agenda to oppress and silence the narratives and stories of the perceived other.

Of course, it is not always those stories that have been recognised by the Academy over the years. When Carol – Todd Haynes’s same-sex romance adapted from the Patricia Highsmith novel The Price of Salt – failed to get a best picture Oscar nomination last year (it did get six others) there was a lot of speculation as to why. Were the Oscars so straight, as well as so white? Was it homophobia or was it misogyny? Or maybe a little cocktail of both?

I’m still not sure. Mostly, I’m circumspect: certain films just emerge as the ones that elbow others out of the way. And there’s a long history of female-driven films proving themselves at the box office – as Carol did, as Hidden Figures is doing at the moment – but the industry tends to act like it’s never happened before.

Carol felt like an anomaly in film at the time; a symptom of how movies now lag behind other media. Many of the episodic shows Amazon and Netflix are producing are radical and inclusive; meanwhile, theatrical film-making is becoming more and more risk averse. It’s reduced to superhero movies, sequels, reboots. The days of a studio making a movie like Brokeback Mountain are behind us. Not because it was about two closeted men, but because traditional studios can’t take a chance on that kind of character-driven drama (unlike, say, Amazon, this year responsible for Manchester by the Sea and Paterson, among others).

And while I could never go as far as to say that President Donald Trump might be a perverse force for good, I hope his time in office might galvanise storytellers. I remember how the Ronald Reagan presidency and its utter disdain for the Aids crisis fuelled movies then labelled New Queer Cinema – films such as Poison, The Living End and Looking for Langston. There was a ferocious sense that we had to tell our stories because no one else would. There must be an element of that happening in 2017, that same sense of urgency.

Right now, it seems this administration is making people drink too much and obsessively check Twitter. But hopefully, it will also spur people to re-evaluate everything: race, class, what art is for, what stories you want to tell and why. When film-makers use the stage at awards ceremonies to say something intelligent and relevant, it’s fantastic. When actors such as Ellen Page and Kristen Stewart come out publicly, that’s also incredibly valuable.

Many people in the US don’t feel safe about their sexuality, gender identity, race or religion – many people are terrified about being deported, voters’ rights are being suppressed with renewed vigour, public education is being attacked. (Remember what I said at the top about trying to care about the Oscars? It’s hard). Many people are seeing their civil liberties being rolled back. So when stars come out and put themselves on the line, it at least gives people role models – and hope.

I’m astounded that as we discover more and more of what’s happening in the administration, how many Republicans just sit on their hands. They’re waiting to see which is the right side of history to be on. As film-makers and storytellers we need to use the moment right now to take stock and examine our own practices. Are we inclusive? Are we diverse? Are we telling stories that resonate for people right now?

I hope Carol did that. Moonlight certainly does. Many of us wonder what drama is more compelling than what’s happening in the White House right now. I think Moonlight certainly is. And Barry Jenkins’ film might just triumph at the Oscars on Sunday. But whether or not it does, the fact that this film has struck such a chord – with audiences as well as the industry – gives us a brief sense all’s right with the world. And then we turn on the news and remember: nothing’s right with the world. But, still, just for a second – and perhaps in the future – it might be.

• Christine Vachon will participate in an In Conversation event at the Glasgow Film Festival on 24 February

 

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