From the WSJ Opinion Archives
LEISURE & ARTS
Oscar Snubs the Fall Guys
Why not an award for stunt men?
If "Syriana" or "King Kong" is nominated for an Oscar next week, don't even look for the names of Steve Dent or Chris Anderson. That's because they were the stunt coordinators on those pictures and despite a 15-year lobbying campaign that's included some of the biggest names in Hollywood, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences doesn't recognize their work. And that's not expected to change anytime soon.
"I started lobbying for an Oscar in 1991 and thought it would take three to five years," says Jack Gill, a stunt coordinator who got his start as a stuntman on the "Dukes of Hazzard" television series and has since doubled for Nicolas Cage and the T1000 in "Terminator 2."
Over the years he enlisted the help of Hollywood heavy-hitters like Steven Spielberg, Sidney Lumet, Dustin Hoffman, Martin Scorsese, Robert De Niro and the Terminator himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger, all to no avail.
"I get the same pat answer every year," Mr. Gill says. "They don't want to add a new category."
The latest setback for the men and women who fight, fall and fly through the air (and look good doing it) came in June, when the Academy voted not to create a new award for stunt coordinators. They shouldn't take it personally, though. In the past 25 years, the Academy has added only two new categories: for makeup in 1981 and for feature animation four years ago.
"At a time when the Academy is trying to find ways to reduce the numbers of statuettes given out, and looks at categories with an eye more focused on reduction than addition, the Board is simply not prepared to institute any new annual awards categories," Academy president Frank Pierson said in June. An Oscars spokeswoman says the Academy has not changed its position.
Stuntmen have been around as long as the movies but have mostly gone unnoticed--and unrecognized. Yakima Canutt received a special Oscar in 1966 for a lifetime of work that included doubling for John Wayne in early Westerns and supervising the chariot-race scene in "Ben Hur," which took two years to plan and execute. The 1978 film "Hooper" by stuntman-turned-director Hal Needham starred Burt Reynolds as an aging stuntman trying to cash in on his last big stunt. The plot line is relevant today because the other knock against an Oscar for stunts is that it will encourage them to do increasingly more dangerous stunts.
"That's a ridiculous argument," Mr. Needham says. "Some of the things they do now scare me and I'm fearless." Wally Crowder, another veteran stuntman, agrees. "We've always had crazy stuntmen," he says. "That's not going to change with an award."
Spice Williams-Crosby, a stuntwoman and actress, was successful at lobbying the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences, which gives out the Emmy Awards, to create a stunt category. But it wasn't easy.
Ms. Williams-Crosby was motivated after her friend, fellow stuntman Paul Dallas, was killed in August 1996 doing a high fall for the TV series "L.A. Heat."
"We were hit with more opposition than you can ever imagine," she says of her initial efforts. Worse yet, most of the actors she lobbied were ignorant of what stunt people did and didn't even know they were in the same union, the Screen Actors Guild. "We're risking our lives to make the actors look good," she told a peer group. "We protect you and you don't even have a clue as to who we are or what we do."
In 2002, the television academy finally relented and began giving an Emmy for stunt coordinators, but not stunt players. That's a separate--and heated--debate within the stunt community.
Some think limiting the award to stunt coordinators is appropriate because they're akin to film editors. Although they might have dozens--sometimes hundreds--of people working under them, it's ultimately their choice of talent and overall supervision that is key to the finished product.
"They're there from six to eight weeks before they start shooting, through production and into postproduction," said Mr. Gill, who would settle for a stunt coordinator Oscar. "They're responsible for every piece of action."
"I have never agreed that stuntmen should have an award. Never," said Mr. Needham. He firmly believes that one of the key elements of being a stuntman is anonymity, making the audience believe that it's the actor--not the stuntman--doing spectacular things. He does favor an award for stunt coordinators.
Ms. Williams-Crosby and others think the work-a-day stuntmen should be recognized. "Some people dedicate their life and give their life to perform on film," said Dennis Madalone, a veteran stuntman who started out doubling the lead character on the 1980s television series "The Greatest American Hero."
He should know. He was one of the stuntmen who worked on "A Vampire in Brooklyn," a 1995 Eddie Murphy movie in which stuntwoman Sonja Davis died while doing a high fall. Ms. Davis was also a close friend of Rosine "Ace" Hatem, a stuntwoman whose most famous role came last year. She was Hillary Swank's first opponent in "Million Dollar Baby." But you wouldn't know that from scanning the list of last year's Academy Award nominees. Ms. Hatem wasn't even considered.
Mr. Yost, associate editor of the St. Paul Pioneer Press editorial page, attended stunt school in Las Vegas in August and wrote about it for the Journal.
