Dispatches from the Fury Road: Awards.

I hate TV and movie awards.

If you’re not careful, they can distort how you feel about your experience. I loved every episode of Better Call Saul, even more than Breaking Bad. For me the ending is one of the great TV finales with beautiful writing, direction, acting, and production coalescing into a pitch perfect final shot that left me intellectually and emotionally satisfied. Yet it drives me bonkers that it received 53 Emmy nominations over 6 seasons and won zero awards. Zero! Nada! A void of awards!

I shouldn’t care that Rhea Seehorn was never acknowledged for her beautiful work as Kim Wexler because the performance was the reward. I’m sure for Rhea the opportunity to play the role was the reward. To make a living from your craft is the reward, so I shouldn’t get bent out of shape over it.

But I am.

I’ve been lucky enough to win some awards but I wish they never existed. Rewarding certain artists for their work over other artists is essentially ridiculous. Why should one type of performance be considered better than another? Isn’t the reaction from the audience all the gauge we need? The year I was nominated for best show at the Melbourne Comedy Festival was a bummer. I went from having a ripper experience for the first two weeks where the audience loved the show, which then segued into a week of people sitting in the crowd with their arms crossed trying to work out why I should be nominated over anyone else. I also took some nice drive by snide remarks from peers in the Hi-Fi Bar, calling me out for a show that they considered not funny enough. Why are you having a crack at me? I didn’t nominate me. Someone else nominated me!

Now the Oscars are coming up and Oppenheimer is in the running for a number of awards. While I’d love it to win a heap of gold statues, I’m also dreading the whole process. I don’t care if it wins anything. I loved the film, that’s enough for me. There’s stacks of movies I love that have never sniffed an award, so I’m going to do my best to ignore all of this. I don’t even want to be asked what I think. If something else wins, good one. If other movies are bestowed with the highest honours, then that’s great. Awards are too political anyway. They’re too subjective and I honestly don’t know how you can compare Oppenheimer to Barbie to Poor Things to whatever else is nominated. I honestly won’t be engaging with any of it so I can enjoy the art, craft, and entertainment I like in whatever way I choose to.

And if it wins…who am I kidding. I’ll be the first on the phone to my friends who didn’t like the movie and gloating like a champion.

Fucking awards. They’re the worst.

Justin Hamilton

Surry Hills

17th of January, 2024