Before Harvey Weinstein became the notoriously disgraced figure of our post-#MeToo era—which culminated with his sentence to 23 years in prison after being convicted on one count of sexual assault in the first degree and one count of rape in the third degree—he reigned in Hollywood with impunity. And his throne room was the Oscar stage. Unlike other studios, Weinstein’s made the accruement of Oscars the centerpiece of its release strategy, building prestige and attention off award wins, and transforming that into belated box office dollars. The process redefined what an “Oscar Movie” looked like: they generally became smaller budgeted, less seen, and often greenlit with (if not written for) Academy voters’ preconceived tastes in mind.
Shakespeare in Love beating Saving Private Ryan was the turning point that implemented this sea change.
When the Weinstein-produced comedy first screened for Academy voters in December 1998, the movie was met by a reportedly cool reception, signaling the film would have a small impact on the year’s Oscar race. However, as detailed by Rebecca Keegan and Nicole Sperling’s intricate reporting in Vanity Fair, Weinstein’s pioneering Oscar campaign for that movie would become his “bully masterpiece.”
Prior to Shakespeare in Love’s win, Oscar campaigns were generally a cordial, good old boys affair. There would be industry screenings for Academy voters and the guilds, of course, and promotions in trade newspapers that would provide “For Your Consideration” pullout ads. However, Weinstein more or less invented the relentless months-long Oscar campaign that ends in February, but can begin as early as September.
Previously, promoting a movie for a filmmaker or actor might include appearing on talk shows ahead of the week of release, and doing a weekend of junket interviews. But after Shakespeare in Love, if a film had Oscar prospects it became an almost weekly obligation of appearing at screenings, participating in countless Q&As, and glad-handing at parties with awards voters. In fact, Academy voters got in trouble in ’98 for attending Weinstein’s “Welcome to America” party at New York’s posh Elaine’s restaurant—it was in honor of British Shakespeare in Love director, John Madden.
“It all began with Harvey,” one publicist told Vanity Fair. “I don’t remember ever feeling pressure like that from other studios. He was like, ‘Can you do these radio call-ins all morning?’ He calls the clients directly and guilts them. He really is a beast.”