Why biographical documentaries have prevailed at the Oscars

By S.J.

IN THE months following the release of “An Inconvenient Truth” (2006), the percentage of Americans attributing global warming to human activity rose from 41% to 50%. Six weeks after “Super Size Me” (2004) premiered, McDonald’s removed the “supersize” option from their menu. SeaWorld caved under the public pressure generated by “Blackfish” (2013), phasing out its orca breeding program in March 2016. Documentaries can have a tangible impact on society, and there are plenty of weighty issues for film-makers to bring to light. Yet in the past five years, those sweeping, substantial features have not been rewarded at the Academy Awards.

Instead, the biographical documentary has risen to be a winner with both juries and audiences; since 2012, the Academy has preferred a biopic over investigative documentaries. These winning biopics—three on musicians (“Searching for Sugar Man” in 2013, “20 Feet from Stardom” in 2014, “Amy” in 2016), one on an athlete (“Undefeated”, 2012) and one a whistleblower (“Citizenfour”, 2015) —all revolved around compelling personalities. Nominees that focused their lens on social or political issues rather than individuals, such as “Winter on Fire” (2016), “The Salt of the Earth” (2015) and “Al-midan” (2014), were less successful. It is a trend that has developed only recently; in past decades, the Academy has awarded the Oscar to a variety of topical and controversial subjects, including climate change (in 2006, 2007 and 2010); gun violence in America (in 2003, 2002); the ethics of war (in 1998, 1999 and 2008) and economic inequality (in 2005, 2011).

This is not to say that biographical documentaries are generally less deserving of the Oscar, or that they are unable to combine significant issues with an individual focus. “I Am Not Your Negro”, nominated this year, would make a deserving winner. It is an ambitious and affecting overview of American racial history as seen through the eyes of novelist James Baldwin. Baldwin’s writings (read by Samuel L. Jackson) overlay footage of police brutality in the 1960s and today, combining the legacy of a remarkable thinker with the fight for civil rights as well as the Black Lives Matter movement. It is a perfect example of how the biopic documentary’s tight form can facilitate deeper questions.

It is a stretch, however, to state that all of the recent biographical documentary winners have managed this combination. “20 Feet From Stardom” explored the lives of a group of backup singers. Proving talent and stardom do not always go hand-in-hand, the film focused on female, black singers who have supported the likes of Mick Jagger, Stevie Wonder and Bruce Springsteen. It formed an interesting basis for a television series but, as a documentary, it did not break more ground than “The Act of Killing”, Joshua Oppenheimer’s film on the mass killings in Indonesia in the 1960s that was nominated in that year (after the film’s release, Indonesia’s independent Human Rights Commission pressured the government to launch an investigation). Likewise, was “Amy” the most noteworthy documentary in 2016 when nominees included “Cartel Land”, a first-of-its-kind glimpse into vigilante efforts against the drug war in Mexico?

It is easy to read the popularity of the biopic as symptomatic of a modern obsession with celebrity, but the trend is more likely due to the formal differences between biopic and investigative documentaries. Luke Moody, Sheffield Doc/Fest’s Director of Film Programming, believes that Academy voters tend to connect more with individual characters on screen than they do with faceless, complex problems. Biopics also benefit from linear storytelling: characters are introduced, obstacles set up, the story climaxes and falls, providing a sense of resolution. Yet many important topics do not lend themselves to closed storytelling. It would have been inappropriate in the case of “Shoah” (1985), Claude Lanzmann’s 10-hour documentary about the Holocaust, which focused on the trauma and emotional repercussions of the event. “The Pearl Button” (2015), from Patricio Guzmán, avoids linearity to comment on Chile’s history. Jumping between the times of Christopher Columbus, Augusto Pinochet and the present day, it holds up exploitation and violence as enduring themes. It makes for a jarring viewing experience, but that is the point—the medium does half the telling.

John Biaggi, Creative Director of the Human Rights Watch Film Festival, watches hundreds of documentaries every year; he argues that a “documentary does ultimately need to carry the viewer into the story to get through to them.” Ultimately, singling out characters at the core of an issue makes for compelling storytelling. Directors can secure one-of-a-kind access to ideas, places or people unknown, yet their narrative methods may be too convoluted; inversely, a straightforward biopic, though highly watchable, may lack social impact. The reign of the biopic may well continue, but documentaries should be rewarded for channelling their best tool—inciting empathetic action—and not because they feel like a timely feature film.