The Oscars snubbed Neds ? small surprise there. But this is not the first time Bafta has turned its nose up at a Scottish film
Most of us accept we're as likely to be surprised by the Bafta shortlist as Mel Gibson is to scoop a Nobel peace prize, but the establishment-toadying myopia displayed by this year's nominations list is unusually alarming. The exclusion of Peter Mullan's remarkable Neds, hailed by this paper's Danny Leigh on last week's Film 2011 as "film of the year" and already the winner of numerous overseas awards, isn't just infuriating, it's proof that Bafta is about as in touch with modern working-class Britain as David Cameron's Krug-slugging cabinet.
It's ironic that only a week after interloper Ricky Gervais shook up the American film industry with some ego-pricking home truths at the Globes, Bafta still behaves with such timidity and small-mindedness when it comes to celebrating its own. It has always wallowed in America-tilting nostalgia films populated by beautiful people showcasing classic English fashions (Atonement, An Education, Pride and Prejudice), but it's even more bedazzled by movies which present the British royal family as smart, funny, profound thinkers (The Queen, Elizabeth, Mrs Brown, The Madness of King George). The King's Speech, in which charmless stiffs like King George and the Queen mum are re-imagined as warm, witty Colin Firths and Helena Bonham Carters, is about a perfect a Bafta box-ticker as it's possible to imagine.
Similarly, when it comes to British actors and directors, Bafta feels most comfortable repeatedly hailing exportable national treasures or rewarding those who have broken America. Miranda Richardson, Colin Firth, Danny Boyle and Andrew Garfield all fit the bill this year, as recent previous winners like Carey Mulligan, Kate Winslet, Tilda Swinton and Helen Mirren did before them. Unlike the unloved Peter Mullan, whose Cannes best actor win in 1998 for My Name is Joe failed to goad even a nomination out of Bafta.
It's been evident for years that Bafta judges are sniffy about contemporary urban Britain (though they do occasionally display a soft spot for Mike Leigh ? perhaps because he can be rather sniffy himself), but it's worth pointing out they're particularly wrinkle-nosed about Scotland. They've sailed through the last decade blissfully ignoring all significant depictions of Scottish urban life, including Ken Loach's visceral heart-stoppers Sweet Sixteen and Ae Fond Kiss, both of which picked up prestigious awards elsewhere. (Interestingly, they usually support Loach ? it's just when he moves north of the border they turn their backs.)
Director Andrea Arnold (who's English) was graciously acknowledged as 2006's stand-out British debutante for the Glasgow-based Red Road in 2006, but her Cannes jury winner wasn't nominated for film, British film, director, writer or anything else. She probably wasn't too surprised. Even Trainspotting ? voted best British film of the last 25 years in The Observer's 2009 poll of film-makers and critics ? didn't qualify for a nomination for best film, director or actor back in 1995.
The Neds blindspot is almost as perverse. Mullan's film has been widely recognised by critics in the UK and throughout Europe as a bold achievement of political and cultural import, directed with flair and insight and featuring a show-stopping performance by untrained newcomer Conor McCarron. But Neds didn't just fail to register on Bafta's shortlist, it didn't even get a mention on the 15-film longlist. In fact the cast and crew were ignored in the longlist of every single category, apparently not fit to stand alongside those of Tamara Drewe, Despicable Me or Made in Dagenham. How is this possible?
Could it be that Neds, with its difficult accents, unattractive landscapes and angry, scathing message for contemporary society, didn't quite meet the needs of the cinematic arm of the English Tourist Board that is Bafta? Or is it that the judges prefer to simply avoid Scottish films, perhaps afraid that if they get too close they'll get nutted, or sliced by a housing benefit application form. Maybe if we Scots campaign harder and make a nice heathery movie about Robert Burns's coastal childhood, we could challenge their preconceptions, change their ideas.
On the other hand, we could, as Malcolm Tucker probably did when he found out Peter Capaldi hadn't been nominated for In the Loop, just flip the bird and tell the whole lot of them to "scuttle off back to fucking Cranford". Yes, actually, that feels much better.
Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/filmblog/2011/jan/26/peter-mullan-neds-bafta-scots
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