By Sarah Karon, who's now an annoying Oscar trivia buff, and wrote
this before the nominations were even announced
Remember that movie Punchline? It's the one that first paired Sally Field and Tom Hanks together, as Lilah Krytsick, a New Jersey housewife who desperately wants to break into stand-up comedy, and Steven Gold, a successful-yet-snotty comedian who can,t seem to get his act (HA!) together. The sparks fly when they meet at a New York comedy club, where Steven helps Lilah conquer bad timing, and Lilah helps Steven turn his life around.
That one wasn't an Oscar-winner. That's not my point. Fast-forward to the next time Tom and Sally got together, in Robert Zemeckis, 1994 film Forrest Gump. This time the chemistry must've been a little better--Gump was nominated for 13 Academy Awards, and walked home with six (including Best Actor for Hanks, Best Director for Zemeckis and Best Picture). Way to go, Sally and Tom. Oh yeah, and this time, she was playing his mother.
So what? In a lot of ways, it makes sense. When casting the
role of Mrs. Gump, Zemeckis needed an actress who looked young
enough to have an eight-year-old kid, and could also somehow pass
for seventy. Field, who was 48 when Forrest Gump was released
(only ten years older than Hanks), apparently fit the bill. Don,t
we all wish we had that kind of range?
The fact is, few film parts--and even fewer juicy ones--are written
for women over forty. For these
actresses, life-after-39 becomes a slippery slope, a delicate
transition zone of sorts, where they must the awkward leap from
playing hot semi-young things to family-absorbed, matriarchal
martyrs. And for many, that leap isn't always successful. (Case
in point: the biggest post-Gump thing Sally Field has done
is a 1999 Saturday Night Live Christmas Special.)
So while male geezers start off as young lovers and morph gracefully into leather-faced CIA agents, sympathetic alcoholics, mental patients and romantic leads for much younger women with cancer, their menopausal female equivalents get stuck playing anxious mothers, nagging wives, and pathological and/or over-sexed psychokillers. Not your typical Oscar fare.
But here's the thing--when a film actually does feature a three-dimensional,
40-years-plus female
character, it's usually damn good. Take The Shipping News,
with Judi Dench. Or Maggie Smith and Helen Mirren in Gosford
Park. Or In the Bedroom, with Sissy Spacek. All kick-ass,
Oscar-worthy films, all with strong, well-developed older female
characters. See the pattern? Hmm?
But I guess those crazy kids in Hollywood still haven't caught
on, because for every juicy part
written for Susan and Sissy, there's still a thousand for Gwynnie,
Angie and Jules. With that depressing statistic in mind, I give
you Sarah's Sad but Statistically Strategic Tips for Winning Your
Oscar Pool. Let's hope I'm wrong, and you lose five bucks.