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Gosford Park was robbed
Last Sunday The Film Academy once again got it all wrong. While A Beautiful Mind walked away with the best picture statuette, I think there was no question in the minds of Americans what should have rightfully won,: Gosford Park. There are many reasons that I feel that GP was better than ABM, such as plot, an ensemble cast, and the amazing edge-of-your-seat character interaction of director Robert Altman. These things have already been highlighted by countless others, however, and I would like to offer some other arguments in favor of GP.
The most obvious reason that GP should have won is that stuffy, old upper class gentry are way cooler than mathematicians. I mean this is in no way as an insult to people involved with math, but let’s be honest: if you were in a fight, whom would you want on your side, mathematicians or stuffy, old upper class gentry? Mathematicians can only do math. Gentry have unbelievable foxhunts. I knew you’d see it my way.
The next reason that GP should have won is that it uses a range of accents from the British Isles, while ABM only uses some form of American Southern accent. Although the Ret Butler Southern twang is charming, the John Nash accent is grungy. Perhaps I’m speaking from an American inferiority complex, but British accents are cooler than Southern accents, especially when the accent is coming from the mouth of esteemed actress Maggie Smith.
Which brings me to my next point: Maggie Smith. She is undisputedly the most wrinkled member of the gentry and possibly the wrinkliest person in the movie (sorry, Liv and Cate). Maggie Smith does not appear in ABM, and I think that the film lacks something because of it. Maggie is not the only wrinkly one either; many of the servants are aged significantly and Michael Gambon knows no geriatric parellel. I don’t care what kind of hunk some girls think Russell Crowe is. There is no way he can compete with an aged British socialite, the 34 manservants that slave to do her bidding, and a cantankerous old maid with a dark, mysterious past.
Another thing that detracts from ABM is that Russell Crowe is in it. I admit that he gave a remarkable performance, but he wasn’t good enough to make me forget that he’s an arrogant, immature little Aussie child. When I watched GP I always felt like I wanted to give Raymond, Lord Stockbridge (Charles Dance) a big hug whenever he came on screen. As I watched ABM, I only felt like I wanted to kick Russell Crowe in his big, smirking head. Which reminds me, why did I need to pay $7.50 to go watch Russell Crowe act like he was crazy when I could have watched him go crazy over not being able to recite T.S. Eliot at the Britawards for free?
Luckily, this is not the end for GP. While ABM will only be remembered through countless Entertainment Weekly Oscar Edition Best Picture lists, GP will survive in a different way: through the adoration of its fans. While ABM will be sentenced to a future of sitting unwanted in the drama section of your local Blockbuster, GP will undoubtedly be watched over and over again by the slightly artsy-fartsy yet loyal fans that propelled Altman’s films to greatness. Long after ABM is forgotten, such Altman works as Popeye and Dr. T and the Women will remain popular, as long as there are people with insomnia and too much time on their hands. And that is more valuable than any recognition given by an insignificant award show over which I have no control.
Daniel Nelson is a freshman English major and columnist for The Cardinal. Contact: daniel_nelson@louisvillecardinal.com
