It's less than a year since Eureka Street lamented (twice) the lack of non-white faces among 2015's Oscar nominees, yet here we are again. Last year it was specifically the snubbing of Martin Luther King biopic Selma's lead actor, David Oyelowo, and its director, Ava DuVernay, that had us — and discerning movie-lovers everywhere — scratching our heads and waving the flag for diversity.
This year the situation is even grimmer, with not one non-white face among 20 nominees for acting awards, despite a raft of contenders. The furious response from some quarters has been palpable, with filmmaker Spike Lee and actor Jada Pinkett Smith (wife of Will Smith, who is one of the actors arguably overlooked) calling for a boycott of the Oscars ceremony, and host Chris Rock cracking wise.
Even Cheryl Boone Isaacs, president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS), which presents the awards, has described the situation as heartbreaking.
It is heartbreaking, but it is also ironic, because at first glance, concepts of empowerment and inclusion seem to have been at the forefront of Academy members' minds. The theme of bringing marginalised or oppressed groups into the centre, or of restoring power and dignity to vulnerable individuals from whom it has been stripped, run through many of this year's nominated films.
It is epitomised in highly rated Best Picture picture contender Spotlight, about the Boston Globe journalists who uncovered the widespread abuse — and its cover-up — by Catholic clergy of, often, poor children in that city. We will have a review of that film by Jesuit film critic Richard Leonard next week. Suffice it for now to say that it is an emotive journalistic procedural with a keen eye for injustice.
Among other gongs, Alejandro G. Iñárritu's beautiful, brutal survival story The Revenant ought to see Leonardo DiCaprio finally earn his long-deserved Oscar — he already won a Golden Globe, and made headlines when he used his acceptance speech to advocate for the rights of America's indigenous peoples (members of the Pawnee tribe feature prominently in the film).
Todd Haynes' Carol, whose stars Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara have each been nominated, portrays a taboo love affair between two women in 1952 New York. It is a subtle and captivating film, made so by the fact that its characters are not caricatures but complex individuals, susceptible at times to selfishness and poor judgement. Phyllis Nagy has, notably, also been nominated for