In the two years since Lupita Nyong'o won an Oscar for "12 Years a Slave," no actor of color has been nominated for an Academy Award. Academy member Stephanie Allain says the Oscars reflect bigger problems in the industry; James Lecesne continues his advocacy for LGBTQ youth with the stage show, "The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey."
#OscarsSoWhite: Veteran producer says Academy needs to change quickly or become ‘obsolete’
When the Academy Award nominations were announced on Jan. 14, there were no blacks, Latinos or Asians among the 20 best-and-supporting actor and actress nominees — the second consecutive year that has occurred. And two films with largely black casts — “Straight Outta Compton” and “Creed” — were not among the eight movies nominated for best picture.
Actress Jada Pinkett Smith says she will skip the ceremony in protest, as will Spike Lee, which is significant because he recently received an honorary Oscar from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. That means he would have been acknowledged during the Oscars broadcast on Feb. 28.
Lee and other Hollywood figures are saying the Oscars are merely a visible symptom of the film industry’s bigger problem: a lack of prominent roles for — and stories about — people of color. Academy president Cheryl Boone Isaacs says she’s also disappointed in the lack of diversity among the nominees and that the Academy is making changes to remedy the situation.
Veteran movie producer Stephanie Allain is a member of the Motion Picture Academy and she is director of the Los Angeles Film Festival. Allain spoke with The Frame’s John Horn.
Interview Highlights:
When you heard that, again, none of the nominees in the four acting races was a person of color, how did you react personally?
Well, the truth is, it wasn’t just the actors, it was even the movies that I wanted to see nominated. But yeah, it was disappointing, obviously it was disappointing. There’s a sense that you want to see yourself reflected, you want to see the movies that you loved celebrated.
So, since you’re an Oscar voter, what movie did you want to see nominated?
Well, here’s the thing, John — can we back it up? Because we’re talking about it like [the Oscars are] the end game — the be-all, end-all of the problem. And so we’re dissecting the process and how it goes. I have been a member — a proud member — of the Academy for the last five years. And like any institution that has a history and a lot of members, it's slow moving. Has there been change since I’ve been there? Absolutely. The work that Dawn Hudson and Cheryl [Boone Isaacs] have done. I’ve seen it. I’ve been in those rooms. I see people who deserve to get in, get in. People like Preston Holmes, who’s been working forever and was invited in ... It’s slow, though. So the bottom line is, the Academy will either change quickly enough to keep up with what’s happening or they’ll become obsolete. And I prefer to work within the organization to affect that change.
The Academy, in many ways, is reflecting what Hollywood in a larger sense is doing.
That’s the real problem. That’s what I’m saying: we’re talking about the Academy as if that’s the beginning of the problem. It’s not. That’s the end result of a problem that starts way back in developing artists. That’s why the work of organizations like Project Involve, from Film Independent, who curate, identify and train these artists across all of the disciplines is important work that needs to be supported and recognized. And those artists need opportunities to work over and over and over again to become masters. That’s just how it goes, you know. The problem starts way, way before the Oscars.
Cheryl Boone Isaacs, the president of the Academy, and Dawn Hudson, the executive director, are trying to diversify the Academy’s membership. Are the Academy’s hands tied by what’s happening outside of their purview?
Well, again, like any institution, you can create your bylaws and you can amend your bylaws. Like I said, the Academy is changing, but it’s slow. So I think that, with all the outrage, I’m sure Cheryl and Dawn will — and are — discussing ways to affect more change.
What can the average moviegoer do to affect change?
Well, the average moviegoer can support movies that are diverse, that are directed by people of color, that are directed by women. Because the bottom line is that you do vote with your money, you vote with your tickets ... And it’s not just for support. It’s because they’re interesting [stories], they’re different, they’re fresh. They have an alternative point of view. They can change your mind about things, they can help you grow... I’m just out here trying to make more movies and more TV about us and for us and for the world — and hopefully be part of the change.
James Lecesne examines the 'liability' of being self-accepting and gay
James Lecesne is a multidisciplinary artist of the first order. He's an actor and playwright primarily, specializing in solo shows. But he's also written books, produced documentary films, and won the 1995 Academy Award in the Live Action Short Film category for "Trevor," a movie about a gay 13-year-old boy who attempts to take his own life.
But, just as importantly, Lecesne is an activist. Much of his work focuses on young people — how valuable they can be to their communities, and how they must be nurtured throughout the turbulent years of adolescence. The documentary "After the Storm" tells the story of New Orleans youth working to revitalize their community in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. And "Trevor" launched The Trevor Project, a lifeline to LGBTQ teens going through similar situations as the title character.
Now, "The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey" continues on the theme of overlooked and under-appreciated youth, but with a new spin. Whereas "Trevor" is about a young boy who is so uncomfortable with his own identity that he tries to end it, "Absolute Brightness" tells the opposite tale. Leonard Pelkey, 14-years-old and gay, has no problem whatsoever expressing himself — but that still doesn't make him safe.
Lecesne crafted the original iteration as a novel simply titled "Absolute Brightness." In his one-man-show adaptation, Lecesne plays all the characters of a New Jersey town. They reflect on Leonard and his odd hobbies — like gluing layers of flip-flops together to make platform sneakers — as they try to figure out why he went missing.
Lecesne met with The Frame's John Horn to discuss his past work in LGBTQ activism, why these stories are still so important to tell, and the artistic choices that went into his production of "The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey."
INTERVIEW HIGHLIGHTS
I’m the co-founder of The Trevor Project, which is a suicide prevention and crisis intervention lifeline for LGBT and questioning teens. So, we’d been doing that for about 15 years, and I just was really aware that there were these young people out there who were authentically trying to be themselves.
But there are certain dangers associated with being your full, flamboyant self. So I wanted to talk to an adult audience about what are their responsibilities to these young people, who are growing up and kind of challenging our assumptions about the way we should be, or who we can be.
Twenty years ago, the world was very different in terms of the access people had to resources. How significant is it that The Trevor Project and books like “Absolute Brightness” exist in terms of being available for kids who need answers and guidance?
I think it’s important to note that suicide is still the number two cause of death among kids age 13-24. And LGBT and questioning teens — they’re three to four times more likely to commit suicide than their heterosexual peers. So, for all of the gains that have been made, I think it’s important to understand that there are still kids without any advocate. For many of us, we perceive this world as being changed. But for a lot of the kids out there, they’re totally alone.
What role do you think art has in that equation? And what role do you think a short film like “Trevor,” which won the 1995 Academy Award for live-action short, and which launched The Trevor Project, play in that conversation?
Well, I’m an artist. So I would say that it’s huge. But I’m a firm believer just from my own experience of how powerful a story can be in the world. I’s story that changes the world, in my opinion. With something like “Trevor” that happened 20 years ago, it changed the way people thought about young people and their identity. Not just sexual identity but their gender identity, their gender expression — and it’s, I think, the job of the younger generation to be constantly challenging the ideas of what those things are.
People who’ve seen this play almost invariably ask if it's based on a true story. And you say in your notes that it’s not. But it certainly has truth in it. So, how do you take the truth of the real world and integrate that into a fictional story, and what were the roots of the fictional story that you found in real life?
Truman Capote famously said, "I write to be able to tell what’s true from what’s really true." One of the great things about this show for me is, afterwards, talking to people. And they invariably say to me, This is a true story, right? Because we all have heard stories like this. Either stories of kids who have been disappeared or have been bullied, or killed, as a result of being who they are.
So there’s a way that I approach it that’s hopefully funny and also touching. But it has the ring of truth for people because I think every single person has crossed that divide in their life when they thought, Oh, wait a minute. I’m not like everybody in the room. And that’s a good thing, but when you’re an adolescent, it feels like a liability.
Leonard Pelkey is a character who is not on stage during the show. Do you feel that in some way makes Leonard more tangible and real?
Yeah, I sort of see Leonard or the play as one of those chalk outlines of a body. [The characters in the play] kind of giving you the outline of that person that you can clearly see what happened there.
You make another fundamental choice in this play by being the only performer. You play all of these characters. How does that change the story?
One of the things that I do in terms of doing a solo show is I’m always really going after why one person needs to tell this show. More than just showing off. And one of the ways that it’s become clear to me in the “Absolute Brightness” story is that everybody possesses pieces of a community. We’re almost like a community within ourselves. And by trying to show those different aspects of myself, I’m actually saying to you: Leonard is inside of you. And that cop is inside of you. I mean, each one of us almost make up a town.
This show is staged very simply but very powerfully. There are specific objects you use in the play. There are platform tennis shoes, there’s a watch, there’s the ways in which knots are tied. Can you talk about the staging, about the physical objects that you have with you that are not simply used to get into character?
The great untapped resource of the theater, always, is the imagination of the audience. So I don’t need costumes. Because I actually think the audience is brilliant at making my actual costume in their minds. And I don’t need sets because really the audience is a genius at coming up with the best set. Those objects that you mentioned are really pieces of evidence, and they’re pivotal pieces that lead to the understanding of what happened to Leonard. We love to solve a good mystery. So I thought, Well, let’s see if I can do this on stage and give people the information, and see if they can figure it out as we go.
There’s a character in the show who befriends Leonard Pelkey, probably in part because he is not kind to his own son. And his own son shows some of the same attributes that Leonard Pelkey has. Is it part of your hope that people who watch this play reevaluate how they treat people that they consider to be different from themselves?
Yeah, and I think it’s also — especially with that character because he’s a little bit older — important to understand that what was acceptable before is no longer acceptable. And that means that maybe what’s acceptable now, in 10 or 20 years will not be acceptable. It’s one of the most difficult things about getting older. You still have to change. You have to keep updating your operating system if you want to play nice with others.
"The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey" is at the Kirk Douglas Theatre through Jan. 31.