Sometimes, the communal consciousness of the cinematic community gets it “right”. Of course, by ‘right’ we mean modeling most of the critical consensus that arrives via the various journalistic organizations and collectives providing their positions over the last few months. Awards season is all about a shared coming together, about a year’s worth of performances and personality whittled down to a determination of ten, or five—and then finally one. As trophies come and go, as bottles of champagne are uncorked and gift bags bulge with unnecessary trinkets, the suspense dissipates, each new member of the annual media shouting match removing one more layer of intrigue to the seemingly predetermined list of winners.
Of course, there is always a baby to come along and soil the bathwater, and this year it’s the Director’s Guild of America. The DGA, almost always a bellwether for who will win the coveted Oscar for filmmaking, is rarely ever wrong. Even when they are—Stephen Spielberg’s snub for The Color Purple, Ang Lee and Rob Marshall’s Guild wins vs. Academy loses—they tend to be on the correct side of the situation. But over the weekend, the DGA pulled one of those unbelievable movie biz boners that will have movie lovers kvetching until the next time they nullify reason. In a decision of deceptive bends, they gave Tom Hooper—a UK TV name with only four features to his name—the year’s highest honor.