will ferrell oscarsFeeling sorry for Will Ferrell and why Oscar prefers crying to a good belly laugh

I feel a little sorry for Will Ferrell.

No, it’s not the succession of box-office hits, the staggering star salary or the house in the Hollywood hills that’s probably quite spacious with a pretty decent-sized garage. Because let’s face it, that’s all quite nice. No, I feel sorry for Will Ferrell because he’s never going to win an Oscar, and I think that’s a crying shame.

What is it with the Academy and comedy? Did somebody have a bad genre experience as a kid and decide comedy should be overlooked every time the Oscar nominations roll around? Fear of clowns maybe…?

Ok, so this year’s better than most. But still, of this year’s more light-hearted Best Picture nominations, The Descendants kicks off with a woman in hospital with a life-threatening head injury, The Artist shows a depressed actor flirting with suicide and Hugo features a loving father being consumed in a ball of fire. Then there’s Moneyball, which is wryly funny and heart-warming throughout… so I’ll gloss over that.

Bridesmaids got a couple of nominations this year because it was just too successful to completely ignore. But generally it seems like out-and-out comedy just isn’t rated by the Academy.

I have an image in my head of the greying, slightly overweight Academy member watching a DVD screener of the latest great comedy (it’s not like he has time to go and sit in a darkened cinema somewhere with, you know, other people) and laughs himself stupid for two solid hours. His belly laughs echo around his palatial living room, emitting arcing shock waves that rattle his glass awards cabinet and scare his fluffy wolf hound.

This is the (adopts grave, booming voice) Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences! It’s a place of solemn social messages; a place of gravitas and drama! We don’t set out to make people laugh just because it’s fun!

The film ends and he wipes the streaming tears of joy from his puffy eyes, while placing a call to his PA. I laughed all the way through, he cries down the phone, and if I hear the guys who made it get so much as a sniff of Academy recognition I’ll throw it back in their face by convincing George Lucas he really should direct everything he writes! See how they like them apples!

Confused, the PA feels obliged to question her boss’ judgement. But sir, the laughter and the joy – surely that’s a good thing? The Academy member shakes his head. Yes, the laughter and the joy, the laughter and the joy… it’s all very well, but what does it all mean? This is the (adopts grave, booming voice) Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences! It’s a place of solemn social messages; a place of gravitas and drama! We don’t set out to make people laugh just because it’s fun!

Riled, the Academy member clenches his fist. Tears of sorrow and pent-up raw emotion – that’s where the dramatic action’s really happening. The horse that seeks his boyish owner through the carnage of mechanised warfare; the young orphan Hugo struggling to connect with his father’s spirit and uncovering the cinematic wonders of the past; the silent movie star searching for relevance in the modern era. Stirring tragedy – that’s the stuff that makes the Academy tick!

Ron Burgundy may have had an office that smelled of rich mahogany, but did he make you cry and question the meaning of it all? Did he hell. A Spanish-speaking dog and tickets to the party in Steve Carell’s pants are all very well, but we’re looking for some deeper meaning here, kid. The Academy doesn’t care how many sharply-observed verbal witticisms, hilarious sight gags and subtle political commentaries you throw in its direction from the best comedies around. They want tears, human drama and a scene where a really pretty model-turned-actress cries like a baby. That’s the way of Oscar and it’s the way it’s always been!

My imaginary ageing Academy member calmly hangs up the phone and tickles his fluffy wolf hound under the chin as he tosses his comedy DVD screener onto the open fire with a casual smirk. Times change, but old prejudices die hard.