In 1960, Chill Wills paid for a series of ads to rally votes for his supporting performance in "The Alamo." One ad read: "We of the 'Alamo' cast are praying -- harder than the real Texans prayed for their lives in the Alamo -- for Chill Wills to win the Oscar as best supporting actor."
Happily, actors' Academy Award campaigns have changed significantly since those days.
While some thesps blanch at the idea of campaigning for an award, it's basically the same as appearing on a talkshow when the film debuts: the goal is to get people to see your work. The difference is that the target audience is much smaller: 5,600 Academy voters.
And while there are still politics in acting nominations, the problems are much subtler -- for example, whether the actor deserves a nomination in the lead or supporting category.
"You're usually in sync over whether or not someone deserves (a nomination)," explains Catherine Olim, senior veep of PMK Public Relations. "More often, the conflict is over what category the person goes in. We all talk to each other, but not usually with the actor in the room, for the sake of their feelings."
Sometimes a powwow is a necessity. "We talk with the producer, director and acting colleagues and reach a decision based on a common view of the performance and also category," says Russell Schwartz, president, USA Films. "We have to get talent agents and managers to agree, which can be a dicey thing."
Ensemble pieces like USA's "Traffic" and UA's "The Claim" can make it tough to decide which category an actor will be nominated for.
"If you position someone for the lead and the perception is that it doesn't stand out, it may work against you in garnering support for a nomination in the support category," says MGM's Jerry Rich, president of worldwide marketing.
It would seem that the matter is clear-cut: Kevin Spacey was obviously a lead in "American Beauty," and Angelina Jolie's role in "Girl, Interrupted" was clearly supporting.
But the gray areas pop up with surprising frequency.
Marlon Brando was nominated for best actor in "The Godfather," even though he had less time on-screen than Al Pacino, who was cited in the supporting category.
Best actress Frances McDormand in "Fargo" had fewer minutes onscreen than supporting nominee William H. Macy. In 1981, the studio pushed Susan Sarandon for supporting actress for "Atlantic City," but Oscar voters nominated her in the leading thesp category.
With "Traffic," USA Films is submitting all five of its leading actors for the supporting actor category, but it can't provide full campaigns for every one of them.
"We have to be careful," says USA's Schwartz. "It's wonderful to support everybody but we end up splitting our potential."
USA will keep an eye where the critical acclaim is landing, says Schwartz, then increase its focus on the two or three front-runners. "We don't coordinate or orchestrate that. It's up to the editorial side," he says, referring to critics.
Critics a critical factor
The critics are the wild card in nominations. "I can attest to that with 'Leaving Las Vegas,' " says Rich. "Roger Ebert would talk about the movie virtually every opportunity he had. I experienced it again in marketing 'The Crying Game' when I was at Miramax.
"Modest indie films get critical champions who stand on a soap box. And press begets press. It infiltrates the editorial space, which is infinitely more capable of having an impact on the decision-making process of an Academy member."
But critical praise is not the only advantage used by Oscar strategists. Ad campaigns are employed to reinforce the strengths of a performance. Artisan's best actress campaign for Ellen Burstyn in "Requiem for a Dream," for example, will emphasize the demands of the performance.
"Using images from the film we want to show how she looks from beginning to end -- it's dramatic," says Paul Pflug, the company's senior veep of national publicity.
"The fact that she's an older actress taking on a challenging role with an edgy young filmmaker is important to share with Academy members."
In some cases it's not the studio or distributor but an actor's agent or manager who pushes for ads and mailings, because they reflect well on the value of the actor.
Some stars, none of whom would be named, demand that an Oscar campaign be written into their contract before the film is shot.
"That happens, but we don't make deals on movies where we precommit on an Academy campaign," says Scott Greenstein, USA's CEO. "For us, it's a process. If it's worthy, we'll go crazy but we don't take anything for granted."
In addition, studios sometimes campaign for actors who are longshots, because they want to show support for the star, and curry longterm relationships. "Companies run fairly extensive campaigns for what appear to be relationship reasons," says Mark Gill, president of Miramax in Los Angeles. "But no amount of campaigning makes a bit of difference unless the consensus is there."
Gill also refutes the notion that the award will go to whichever candidate spends the most. "To say you can buy an Oscar is ludicrous. If it were true, the big studios would win every year. What you see is that it bounces around: studios, small studios and indies."
Oscars have an image of fostering all-out, no-holds-barred campaigning, but it's often undeserved. While other kudos events such as the Golden Globes or BAFTA are looser in their restrictions, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences has strict limits on how far campaigners can go.
For example, it's forbidden to throw a party saluting a potential nominee if the guest list consists only of Academy members. Conversely, Academy voters are, by definition, people who work in showbiz, so party-planners don't want to exclude people simply because they're Oscar voters.
As one award season publicity vet says: "You're not allowed to hold an event for Academy members. But every rule has loopholes and ways of getting around things. You can get a third party to host an event and, 'Oh, my God, there's the Academy members.' "
The Academy must balance enforcement with Hollywood tradition. "An orchestrated campaign to reach members through events, dinners, etc. is definitely strongly discouraged. If it's blatant, we'll confront it," says Ric Robertson, the Academy's executive administrator.
"I get people calling me all the time saying, 'Look at what they're doing, can they do that?' It's difficult to determine what's going on. At a premiere or a party, members are there, but are they really targeted?"
Talent participation key
The actor also has a choice on whether they want to actively campaign for themselves, or their film.
Last year, "Boys Don't Cry" stars Hilary Swank and Chloe Sevigny took different approaches to the Oscar campaign. Swank had a very visible role while Sevigny chose not to, but both got nominations.
"Chloe is a different kind of person and didn't feel comfortable being out there, while Hilary believed strongly in the movie, not in personal recognition," says Nancy Utley, president of marketing at Fox Searchlight. "You could tell it was genuine."
Given that Swank won, one may ask if her chances were bettered by her campaign, particularly for the "right" reasons.
While personality, politics and money seem to have some say in arriving at that consensus, at least the decorum of today's Oscar campaigns has improved from the days of Chill Wills.
"No actor wants to be perceived as campaigning these days," says Mark Ordesky, president of Fine Line Features. "But for people like me there's no shame. I'll scream from the rooftops."
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