It feels like old times again. Sure, what happened with Miramax and Bob and Harvey Weinstein was damn tragic, but the boys seem to be back. Bob and Harvey have become automatic Oscar contenders. And when I say "automatic," I mean automatic. Here's a look at their Best Picture nominees starting in 1992.

1992: The Crying Game
1993: The Piano
1994: Pulp Fiction (Bullets Over Broadway was nominated for seven but not the big enchilada.)
1995: Il Postino
1996: The English Patient
1997: Good Will Hunting
1998: Shakespeare in Love
1999: Cider House Rules
2000: Chocolat
2001: In the Bedroom (Bob and Harvey also received executive producing credit for all three Lord of The Rings movies.)
2002: Gangs of New York, The Hours, Chicago
2003: Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
2004: The Aviator, Finding Neverland

They were finally, mercifully shut out in 2005, ending their streak. It was the same year Bob and Harvey parted ways with Disney, leaving their baby, Miramax (named after their parents) behind. The Weinsteins -- especially Harvey -- are credited with marketing the living daylights out of movies and stealing Oscars away from the big, poor, dumb movie studios. Remember those savvy ads and magazine covers for the growing buzz on The Crying Game? It got to a point where I needed to see this movie. I would have torn my own children's eyes out (if I had any) to see that movie. Then I saw the movie. I wish I hadn't. But I saw it, damn it.

Were movies like Chocolat and The Cider House Rules overpraised? Look, I like both movies, but were they really among the five best in the years they were released? Do you know anyone who liked The Hours that much (admission: I really, really did ... but I'm not most people)?

Regardless, the Weinsteins did a great job of getting Academy voters to see these movies and there's nothing wrong with that. Don't you think a movie like Sling Blade would have died a quick death at the cinema and become a lost gem on the video shelf had it not been for the nurturing by Miramax? The Academy tends to like a certain type of movie and for a while Miramax was the Pai Mei of the award business. They bought and developed features and got voters to sign on the dotted line. A Best Picture nomination wasn't merely sought after by the Weinsteins, it was damn-near demanded and few guys had more bluster than Harvey W.

They've even been accused of buying the Oscars. Anyone remember just how ugly the battle between Shakespeare in Love and Saving Private Ryan got? Miramax and Dreamworks both spent tons on marketing and "For Your Consideration" ads. Shots were taken at each studio. In the end, Miramax won. Things were said to have been pretty cool between Spielberg and the House That Tarantino built. If there was ever a modern rivalry in the movie business, it was this and it might have begun years before when Schindler's List had only The Piano to compete with.

Finally, Harvey Weinstein was labeled shameless in some circles when he paraded Martin Scorsese around during the Gangs of New York pageant. Harvey did everything but beg on his hands and knees for people to finally give Marty his Oscar. It didn't work. It didn't work the following year either when Scorsese failed to win the Best Director Oscar for The Aviator again. (He finally won for 2006's The Departed -- which the Weinsteins did not produce.)

Personally, I've never had a problem with Harvey's passion for movies or celebrating the films and filmmakers he loves and trying to get them Oscar glory. That's his job isn't it?

Leave it to the Weinsteins, yet again, to make the biggest splash at the Oscars this year. Nobody saw The Reader coming the morning the nominations were announced. But these guys did it again. The Dark Knight seemed in the game. Doubt seemed in the game. Even WALL-E seemed in the mix. But The Reader? Nobody had it pegged.

Maybe that old Weinstein magic isn't lost in the corridors of their former home. If there is a new Oscar era for the brothers Weinstein at The Weinstein Company, I'm all for it. And if we can get Dreamworks and them talking trash at each other at some point, all the better.

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Dre writes two times a week for Film.com. Email him!

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