On May 16, 1986, a film called Top Gun was released. Perfectly timed for the summer, Top Gun featured burgeoning star Tom Cruise and a whole mess of fighter jets. The movie went on to gross over $350 million worldwide, becoming a generation’s cultural touchstone in the process. Later that same year, in December, Oliver Stone‘s Platoon hit theaters. It also did quite well at the box office, with over $139 million in receipts, and was subsequently rewarded with The Academy Award for Best Picture.

Technically, both Top Gun and Platoon are films about conflict, though of course they couldn’t be more different. One features Val Kilmer playing volleyball, while the other confronts the horrors of war. Top Gun is considered “cheesy fun” while Platoon implores us, in the end, to lead purpose-driven lives, no matter the personal devastation we’ve endured. Top Gun cost at least twice as much to make and market as Platoon. Finally, and perhaps most definitively, one features Kenny Loggins while the other trades on the haunting Adagio for Strings. And yet they are two sides of the same artistic coin, and both approaches are needed to keep the industry vibrant and whole.

Beneath the surface of our happy-go-lucky film community a constant battle wages. Art vs. entertainment, innovation vs. the focus group hit, the plucky indie spirit vs. commercial viability, mumblecore vs. the traditional three-act structure. Of what do I speak? The Academy (and by inference the artists) vs. the box office (and by inference the general public), and why neither side is ever completely in the right.

In the past 30 years there have been just four films that won for Best Picture while also making the most money at the box office that year. Here’s the complete list:

Rain Man (1988)

Forrest Gump (1994)

Titanic (1997)

The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (2003)

A little context on each of these victories:

1988 was a particularly wacky year at the movies. Tom Hanks received an Oscar nomination for Big, and Rain Man‘s victory had artistic merit, especially when you consider the other films that made big money back in 1988 (Die Hard, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Coming to America, Crocodile Dundee II, Naked Gun, Willow, Rambo III).

Six years later, Forrest Gump beat out both Pulp Fiction and The Shawshank Redemption, a decision that looks worse as time passes, though I’m a fan of all three films.

Titanic was a massive cultural happening, and it provided much in the way of innovation in the CGI field. But there were probably two films out in 1997 that we appreciate more for story today: Good Will Hunting and L.A. Confidential.

The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King was given what amounted to a lifetime achievement Academy Award because the previous two Lord of the Rings films had been nominated for Best Picture … but had come up short.

And so, the context behind the four “money” Best Picture winners is clear. It was either a strange year for cinema (1988), the film was being rewarded for the success of three films (2003), or there were probably more deserving movies out there (1994, 1997).

Even with the victories of those four, we can note that the Academy rewards a “populist” champion only 14 percent of the time. This is a very good thing, even if it destroys television ratings, and I’m here to tell you why. I’m even going to put it in bold, so there’s no doubt about my meaning:

The general public and the Academy must operate with entirely different motivations, or film as we know it will perish.

How so? Because the Academy can’t be in the business of rewarding, er, business interests. They must reward the broad themes that shape our culture, movies with messages, the movie world equivalent of “eating vegetables.”

And generally they do just that. Much more common is the marked separation of “commercial” vs. “message” filmmaking where the Academy is concerned. Examples such as:

Three Men and a Baby vs. The Last Emperor (1987)

Terminator 2 vs. Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Jurassic Park vs. Schindler’s List (1993)

Phantom Menace vs. American Beauty (1999)

Shrek 2 vs. Million Dollar Baby (2004)

Spider-Man 3 vs. No Country for Old Men (2007)

In each of these cases the film on the left was the box-office champ, while the film on the right won for Best Picture. While I loved Terminator 2 I’m hoping we can all agree that a world where Schindler’s List gets a stamp of approval is the one we want to live in.

This is why the new “10 films nominated!” rule is so dangerous. It opens up the Academy to more lobbying, more prurient interests. It allows the Academy to chase ratings — but at what cost? The goals of moviegoers and the Academy are very different, as well they should be. The former financially supports the industry; the latter is the default steward of the industry. Here are the causes each group generally supports:

General Public: Escape, entertainment, effects-driven popcorn cinema

The Academy: Work that pushes the medium forward, allowing for the evolution of film

Of course, there are exceptions, because it’s possible to be escapist entertainment that also pushes the medium forward, but something that receives a massive audience, by its very definition, is not nearly as likely to be subversive or challenging. If it’s palatable to the masses, it’s also most likely a watered-down product that everyone can easily understand. Shrek 2 and Spider-Man 3 are prime examples of massive financial hits … that also banked on the success of prior efforts packaged with outstanding marketing. But in 100 years no one is going to look at Shrek 2 to figure out anything about our culture. Platoon could be seen as a legitimate view on where our society was, psychologically, on the Vietnam war during the ’80s. Platoon is a thoughtful take on a complex issue. Without Platoon, would there be a Jarhead? A Three Kings? A Hurt Locker? The Academy isn’t tasked with protecting the rights of big-budget cinema, it’s tasked with rewarding achievement in artistic merit — not the best marketing plan, not the film that everyone liked best.

As for Top Gun? It deserved the money. It was big fun at the theater, and in many ways films like Star Trek and 2012 share a similar pedigree — films that engage you without asking for much in return. Clearly there’s a demand for escapist cinema, and no one should feel bad about rewarding said fare … unless it’s Oscar night, and they’re holding a Best Picture statue in their hand.

You could make the case that Avatar is so visually innovative that it makes up for the derivative — and less innovative — story portion of the film. You could make that case, people are doing so, and Avatar is the odds-on favorite to take home the Best Picture Oscar. But if the stewards of the industry, the folks who are supposed to promote innovation, become the same people looking to cash in, you lose all sense of balance. Art has nothing to do with placating the masses, and everything to do with challenging the consensus.

Avatar doesn’t need a Best Picture win to be considered important. The film has made two billion dollars; it needs no stamp of approval, it needs no validation. It’s a massive success by any standard. The Hurt Locker could benefit from a victory, would benefit from people considering the work, and our culture would be a little better off having a (thus far) non-commercial film gain some acceptance. So too would Inglorious Basterds benefit from a victory, hammering home the ideal that movies are our emotional playgrounds, where it can be productive to rewrite history to help heal an old wound.

Greed can be a good thing, and films that make oodles of money aren’t inherently bad. There’s much to be said for paying the bills, keeping people employed, and profiting from your vision. Capitalism is important. But so too is art. Without that balance we won’t have an industry at all — we’ll just have a crowded field of sequels, prequels, and reboots. It will be a very popular industry, a very profitable one too. Sadly, it will also be a soulless monster, feeding upon itself, looking only for the next big hit.

Tags: best picture, platoon, top gun