Congratulations to the winners; ‘One Battle After Another' for Best Picture; Jessie Buckley and Michael B. Jordan for acting. Sean Penn won his third Oscar for best supporting actor, but skipped the ceremony…to visit Ukraine.
Isn't it wonderful? To win Best Picture, a film must now satisfy at least two of four standards concerning on-screen representation, creative leadership, crew composition, or industry access. You know, because the quality of the filmmaking itself was apparently too simple a criterion. Why judge a movie by its artistic merit when you can judge it by whether the key grip identifies as part of a marginalized community?
Take poor ‘The Godfather’ (1972). Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, Robert Duvall—these problematic individuals are all, gasp, white men telling a story about an Italian-American crime family. Where are the LGBTQ+ narrative themes? The female department heads? The underrepresented racial groups in significant roles? Francis Ford Coppola's masterpiece would be laughed out of the room today. "Sorry, Francis, but your film about toxic masculinity and the corruption of the American dream doesn't meet our inclusion metrics. No Best Picture nomination for you. Have you considered adding a transgender consigliere?"
‘The Godfather Part II’ (1974) fares no better. Sure, it deals with immigration and features Italian-American actors, but the Academy's new standards demand representation across multiple underrepresented groups. Italian-Americans, despite being historically discriminated against, apparently don't check the right boxes in 2026. The film focuses on, you know, “men”—predominantly white ones. And the crew? Forget it. This was the 1970s; the concept of "equity in below-the-line positions" was about as common as a smartphone.
‘Unforgiven’ (1992)? Clint Eastwood's deconstruction of Western mythology? A film about aging white outlaws in the 1880s frontier? The Academy would need smelling salts. No people of color in lead roles. No LGBTQ+ themes. Sorry, no Brokeback Mountain. No women in key creative positions (unless you count costume design, which the Academy barely does). The film's exhaustive portrayal of white male violence would be deemed "insufficiently representative." Sorry, Clint—perhaps if you'd made Will Munny a queer Black woman seeking revenge against systemic oppression, you might have had a shot. Wait you say, what about Ned Logan? No nomination for Morgan Freeman that year.
‘Casablanca’ (1942)? Set in Morocco during WWII, featuring predominantly white European refugees played by, you guessed it, white actors? The Academy would have an aneurysm. Dooley Wilson plays Sam magnificently, but one Black supporting character does not diversity standards make. Plus, the film was directed by Michael Curtiz, a Hungarian Jewish immigrant—but that doesn't count because he's still a white man. The representation math simply doesn't add up.
And ‘Titanic’ (1997), that landmark film that drew 55 million viewers to the Oscars, a record not yet topped, when it won? The very movie that made the Academy Awards must-see television? Well, let's see: two white leads in a romance, a white director, a predominantly white upper-class victim pool in first class, and—worst of all—a focus on “historical accuracy” rather than contemporary ideological checkboxes. Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio playing fictional white characters on a real ship full of actual historical white people? That's not "inclusive storytelling," that's "problematic perpetuation of dominant narratives." James Cameron would need to reshoot the sinking scene to include at least three differently-abled non-binary people of color among the drowning passengers to even be considered.
Which brings us to the delightful reality of Oscar viewership. Remember when 55 million people tuned in to see ‘Titanic’ sweep the awards in 1998? Those were the days—when people actually cared about movies, when films were events, when Best Picture winners were cultural touchstones rather than homework assignments. Fast forward to 2025, when a mere 18 million viewers bothered to watch. That's right—down from 55 million to 18 million. A two-thirds drop in audience. Bravo, Academy! Truly, these inclusion standards are bringing the people together!
Because here's what the Academy doesn't understand: when you turn art into activism, when you prioritize political checklists over storytelling, when you nominate films that critics love but audiences ignore, you become irrelevant. The average American doesn't want to watch a ceremony celebrating movies they've never heard of, made according to bureaucratic formulas rather than artistic inspiration. They want to see *their* movies celebrated—films that moved them, entertained them, became part of their lives.
But the Academy soldiers on, convinced that the problem isn't their own self-imposed irrelevance, but rather that audiences are simply too unenlightened to appreciate cinema that checks the right demographic boxes. The solution, clearly, is more standards! More rules! More forced diversity requirements that make films feel like corporate DEI seminars rather than art!
Keep it up, Academy. At this rate, by the 108th Academy Awards in 2036, you'll be broadcasting to an audience of twelve sociology professors and a diversity consultant. But hey, at least your Best Picture nominees will have met all four representation standards. Artistic merit is so overrated anyway.
Here are some prior Best Picture winners and how these classics might fare against modern Academy inclusion standards:
No Country for Old Men – Fails the on-screen representation test because the only Spanish-speaking characters are corpses or Javier Bardem with a pageboy haircut. The Academy now requires at least one woman to have a conversation about something other than cattle gun murders.
The Departed – Martin Scorsese's Boston crime epic features 47 white guys from Southie and Vera Farmiga accidentally dating both of them. Fails the " Not Every Character Named Sean or Patrick" provision.
Chicago – Despite Queen Latifah's presence as Matron Mama Morton, the film fails the behind-the-camera standards because apparently "jazz hands" doesn't count as a historically underrepresented group in department heads.
A Beautiful Mind – Russell Crowe's mathematician hallucinates roommates but somehow still hallucinates only white guys. Academy notes: "Even the imaginary friends lack diversity."
Gladiator – DreamWorks spent $100 million recreating ancient Rome using only actors from the Home Counties of England. The only German in the film is the Emperor, and he's the villain. No wonder the electorate misspelled "Joaquin" on their ballots.
Braveheart – Mel Gibson's historical accuracy about 13th-century Scotland is questionable (the kilts alone), but what's undeniable is that every single person in this film is the same shade of woad blue. Catherine McCormack literally exists just to die and motivate William Wallace, which violates the "Women Should Have Plot Functions Beyond Being Murdered Props" bylaw.
Titanic – The steerage deck technically passes the on-screen diversity check, but the film fails because Billy Zane's character represents Hollywood's historically overrepresented demographic: "guys who own comically large spatulas." A 1910s equivalent of a tech bro.
Forrest Gump – Features exactly one significant Black character (Bubba), who dies so that Forrest can start a shrimp company in his honor. The Academy now requires that Black characters survive long enough to receive profit-sharing.
Schindler's List – While understandably limited in casting options given the subject matter, Steven Spielberg's Holocaust drama fails the "Light and Joy" appendix of the new standards. Academy note: "We said representation, not film representation of systemic genocide."
Unforgiven – Clint Eastwood's revisionist western features 11 characters, 10 of whom are grizzled white men who look like they smoke their own beard hair. Gene Hackman's character fails the "Antagonists Should Have Non-Violent Conflict Resolution Training" requirement.
Amadeus – Tom Hulce plays Mozart as a giggling menace in 18th-century Vienna, featuring zero composers of color and zero women who aren't either his wife or a masked figure at a party. The Academy specifically cites "Insufficient Salieri apology tours."
Patton – George C. Scott's WWII biopic fails because it suggests that winning Golden Globes requires even less diversity than winning Oscars—namely, just one general and two tanks.
The Sound of Music – Despite being about a family that literally hides in a convent to escape Nazis, the film fails the "Awards Season Should Not Require Nuns" standard. Julie Andrews represents 90% of the film's female speaking roles, which violates the "Maria Distribution" clause.
My Fair Lady – Audrey Hepburn plays a Cockney flower seller while being Audrey Hepburn, which violates the "Casting Should Match Geography" rule. The film also fails because Rex Harrison talks-sings his way through approximately 400 songs while Eliza waits for him to finish.
Casablanca – Almost passes thanks to Dooley Wilson's Sam, but fails the "Round of Applause for Dooley Wilson" standard when the Academy realized he wasn't even allowed to play piano in the recording session due to segregation. The new rules retroactively require Bogart to say "Here's looking at all of you, representing various historically underrepresented groups" instead.
Ben-Hur – Charlton Heston, an American, plays a Judean prince; Stephen Boyd, an Irishman, plays a Roman; and Jack Hawkins, an Englishman, plays Quintus Arrius. It only technically passes the Middle Eastern representation requirement because the entire region is portrayed by Community Theater Shakespeares from Connecticut.
Gone with the Wind – If this film were somehow submitted today, it wouldn't be rejected—it would be subpoenaed.
These films collectively represent Hollywood's golden age of "White Men Doing Things: A Catalog." Under the new standards, the only category they'd sweep is "Best Picture for Making Modern Audiences Say 'Yikes' During Rewatches."
The Godfather I (1972) & II (1974)
No Country for Old Men (2007)
The Departed (2006)
Chicago (2002)
A Beautiful Mind (2001)
Gladiator (2000)
Braveheart (1995)
Titanic (1997)
Forrest Gump (1994)
Schindler’s List (1993)
Unforgiven (1992)
Amadeus (1984)
Patton (1970)
The Sound of Music (1965)
My Fair Lady (1964)
Casablanca (1942)
Ben-Hur (1959)
Gone with the Wind (1939)
Editorial comments expressed in this column are the sole opinion of the writer
