I’ve been pondering this column for
the past couple of weeks. Part of the reason I haven’t written it is because
I’ve been so busy. More accurately, what I’m about to say is not going to make
popular in certain circles and may get me more than my share of angry posts.
That being said, I think the theory behind what I’m about to say is sound. So
here goes.
Two weeks ago, the Emmy made the
announcement that they were ‘considering’ the possibility of letting acting
nominees who didn’t identify as a specific gender be nominated under the title
Best Performer. One of the people who has been spearheading this argument is
Asia Kate Dillon, the nonbinary performer who has challenged the acting circles
by saying that making a performer have to compete in a gender-specific category
is old-fashioned and that Awards shows like the Emmys should adapt this kind of
method. In 2017, the MTV Movie and TV Awards adapted this kind of method in
their awards.
Let me begin by saying I greatly
admire Dillon. Their performance in Billions
is one of the great master classes in acting on one of the great series on
TV today. And I think that is a travesty not only that Dillon has been shutout
by the Emmys but that the entire cast from Paul Giamatti to Maggie Siff and
David Costabile is another travesty in a long line of similar shutout
throughout the Emmys history. (I have a theory, though, as to just why Dillon
has been ignored which I’ll get to later in this column.) So I can understand
their frustration. That said, I strongly believe that trying to adapt any group
that gives awards – but especially the Emmys – would be a total and utter
disaster that would end up excluding far more people that it could potentially
include and that in the end would not live up to the challenge Dillon and their
colleagues have set forward.
Let’s start with the most obvious
problem. If we were to combine the Outstanding Actor and Actress into the same
category, how many nominees would there be? This has been a problem the Emmys
has always been challenged by and never responded well to. They stayed at four
nominees for the first half of their existence, only moved up to five in late
1980s, and it was only until 2006 that they were willing to nominate as many as
six actors per category. Getting them to the current number of seven took
another decade.
So I can assure you there will be a
long argument and debate as to how many actors will be in each category and in
the end the number will make nobody happy. It probably won’t be thirteen or
fourteen (then there’ll be debate about the integrity
of the process) and no matter how large it is, everyone will just bitch and
moan about how many people are being left out. This kind of complaint is
nothing new, of course (I’ve made something of a career about it) but I have a
feeling the criticism will be far pointed in this case. Because nobody how much
they argue it’s for the sake of inclusion, a lot of actors are going to be left out.
And I can make some pretty educated
guesses as to who would feel the pinch first: African-American actresses and
actors. I make this judgment, like the others in this article, on the Emmys
history.
Let’s engage in some hypotheticals:
let’s assume this ‘Best Lead Performance’ and ‘Best Supporting Performance’ had
been put into practice at the beginning of this century. Let’s give them a
little more latitude and say that ten actors of either gender were included.
In 2013, Kerry Washington became
the first African American Actress nominated for Best Actress in a Drama in the
century and certainly awhile before that. Now consider the level of competition
of the other nominated series in 2013. What are the odds that Washington
would’ve managed to get nominated had she not only had to compete against such
talent as Claire Danes for Homeland, Elisabeth
Moss for Mad Men, Michelle Dockery
for Downton Abbey and Robin Wright for House of Cards, but also the male leads in that series who were, if
anything, just as formidable. Add that Bryan Cranston was there and Washington’s
breakthrough becomes a near impossibility. (The only reason Washington was nominated in the first place
was because there were seven nominees for Best Actress.)
For all the progress that has been made the
last decade, the Emmys have been historically known for ignoring any actors of
color. Viola Davis might have broken through two years
later, but in the scenario I think the odds against her actually winning are
still remote.
I’d make a similar argument when it
came to African-American actor, but the records already poor enough. Between
Andre Braugher’s win for Homicide in
1998 and Sterling K. Brown’s victory in 2017, I’m relatively certain the only
other African-American nominee for Best Actor was in fact Braugher for Gideon’s Crossing in 2001, a nomination
that in itself was rather fluky. The
Emmys has a really bad track record when it comes to recognizing minority
actors in general – that’s one of the things that the era of Peak TV hasn’t
changed until the last five years. Had this kind of system been around then I
think the hashtag #EmmysSoWhite would’ve started trending before Twitter even
existed.
And that’s just the problem with
the nominations. If this process had existed when Peak TV started in 2000, I’m
willing to bet it would have taken the rest of the decade before we saw a woman
win Best Lead Performance in a Drama. Remember this was the age of the
antihero. What are the odds that any of the actresses in that period could get
nominated, much less triumph, against a lineup of James Gandolfini, Michael
Chiklis, Kiefer Sutherland, Jon Hamm and Bryan Cranston? Alison Janney and
Sally Field wouldn’t have a prayer. I think it unlikely that Glenn Close’s dual
triumphs in the incredible underwatched Damages
would have taken place. Even Edie Falco would have a hard time winning in
that field.
I’m less sure this kind of problem
would’ve happened in the Comedy category – some of the great comedic
performances of the last twenty years were by female actresses – and I can see
Patricia Heaton, Jennifer Aniston, Tina Fey and even Edie Falco – for Nurse Jackie - prevailing. There
might’ve been backlash on that part for awhile, but I’ll leave that aside for
now
Then there’s the problem we’d have
when Supporting Performances were considered. Asia,
I really think your lack of nominations is less to do which category you belong
in than the fact that you’re not a cast member of Game of Thrones. And no, I’m not just using this series as a hobby
force; this has been a problem for as long as I can remember. Ten years ago,
the Supporting categories were dominated by The
West Wing and The Sopranos. Before
that, it was NYPD Blue and ER. Hell, we’ve already had a Supporting category where all the
nominees were in one series – when Hill
Street Blues was on the air. So, this wouldn’t change much.
I imagine all of these arguments would
meet with the challenge: “Things are different now.” Problem is, people like
Dillon are looking for the Emmys to represent social change when they barely
meet their core mission of recognizing the best in television. Don’t get me wrong;
as much as I bitch about them, I love the Emmys. But I’ve long since given up
on them being able to even nominate the right series, much less give them to
the right people.
Because the Emmys are fundamentally
conservative. Not socially, but in their habits. I’ve mentioned tongue-in-cheek
that the best way to win an Emmy is to have won the year before, and if you
look at their history it’s not much of an exaggeration. Does anyone
realistically believe Julia-Louis Dreyfus deserved six Best Actress Emmys in a
row? Any more than Helen Hunt deserved four in a row for Mad About You? Hell, even James Spader admitted that at least one
of his wins for Boston Legal seemed a
mistake. How many times have Emmy winners seemed shocked at their victory? It’s
because realistically, they shouldn’t have won.
The Emmys doesn’t lead when it
comes to honoring television. At best, it follows. When The Sopranos broke every rule of how TV should be done, that year
the Academy gave the lion’s share of its awards to The Practice. The Sopranos didn’t win until its fifth season, and
I’m sure even David Chase would’ve acknowledged its best years were behind it
by then. The Emmys rarely recognize the groundbreaking series when they deserve
to be, if they do at all. Their record with minorities has improved the last
several years, but is still fairly atrocious. And while they have a slightly
better record when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community, actors like Jim Parsons
and Jane Lynch weren’t honored for playing gay characters. Given the choice
between honoring a gay actor for playing a gay man or a straight actor for
playing a gay man, they are far more likely to honor the latter. (Eric
Stonestreet won two Emmys for Modern
Family. Jesse Tyler Ferguson won zero.)
All of which is a roundabout way of
saying even they were meet every accommodation that Dillon and his ilk would
meet nothing would change. Actors like Dillon or Alex Newell might get
nominated in this new system, but they’d never win. In all honesty, I think
they’d have a more realistic chance in the current system. It might not be
ideal, but it wouldn’t throw things out of alignment for everybody else.
That’s assuming, of course, that
the Emmys would actually do. I may just be cynical but I suspect they’re saying
“we’re open to the idea” is a way of throwing a constituency a bone without
having to change their rules at all. I’ve mentioned how reluctant the Emmys are
to just changing the number of nominees in any given category; they really don’t want to open this can of
worms.
And by the wire, if the LGBTQ
community presses this, it’s just going to make the Academy more resistant.
They hate people who even suggest the system is flawed. Think I’m joking? When Orange is the New Black came out in
2013, it revolutionized how television was done much the same way The Sopranos did, particularly when it
came to actresses of color. The writers however objected that they were put in
the comedy category even though they received fifteen nominations. Reluctantly,
they moved into the Drama category the following year and Jenni Kojan and the
other writers made an argument that the Emmys should divide categories into
half-hour and hour-long series. The Emmys said they’d ‘consider it’. Nothing
came of it. I don’t think it was a coincidence that Orange was not a serious Emmy contender for
the remaining five years it was on the air, even though it won three
consecutive SAG awards for Best Comedy ensemble.
The Emmys say they’re okay with
this idea now because it doesn’t cost them anything. To actually do something – that’s going to piss off
a lot of executives and studio people. And all of this will change nothing. If
anything, it’ll be harder for non-binary actors to get nominated than it is
now.
I don’t expect to be regarded with
love for certain communities. Just to be
clear, I am all for more LGBTQ roles in every aspect of film and television and
I really believe there does need to be much, much more inclusivity in every
part of it. But that won’t start by
getting group like the Emmys to change their rules. That’s where you end it.