It was Beckett who, in a burst not precisely of enthusiasm, said: "Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." In truth, far from the author of Waiting for Godot intending to turn his praise of defeat into a riddle to encourage anyone, much less into a slogan for entrepreneurs. No, in Beckett, failing is destiny, not the path to success. The 2025 Oscars gala left several resounding and unequivocal defeats; Beckettian defeats; defeats from which it is hard to learn anything because they are basically very sad. The first of them, undoubtedly, is the one starring Emilia Pérez in general and Jacques Audiard in particular (even above Karla Sofía). She started as the favorite since she had the most nominations. Additionally, she held the record for being the international production with the most chances in history. Her name was on the honor board 16 times. In the end, she had to settle for the awards for best supporting actress, Zoe Saldaña, and best song, El Mal. And truly, because there was no other choice. Zoe claimed what was rightfully hers as the true protagonist of the film (besides being the highest-grossing actress in history), and the song is the emblem of the film itself and one of the two nominees from the same movie (Mi camino was the other). Both couldn't be left out. It would be too much.
The Academy, clearly, decided to take seriously the punishment of the French film that, by action or omission, has raised the most blisters. Even before the racist tweets controversy came to light, the film was already tainted by its fiery reception in Mexico from the moment of its release and by the response received among sectors, let's say, of the LGBTQ+ activism. What began as a celebration of the power of transformation and all that is good soon turned into a target for criticism as a celebration of the cliché, the sad, and the sad clichés. It is curious how quickly, Emilia Pérez has gone from being attacked by those who initially defended her and, conversely, those who initially saw in her another progressive daring act, have suddenly found themselves dressed as fanatical defenders. And all because of some 'tweets'.
The litmus test to see how far the Academy's scorn would go was the International Film category. If we follow tradition, few awards are as secure. One could fail in technical categories, even in acting, but it would be misunderstood if the film with the most nominations did not win the one reserved for foreign films. Well, that didn't happen either. The award for Aún estoy aquí, by Walter Salles, seals the punishment. Of course, Karla Sofía Gascón had long since lost her chances. Even before a probably not so innocent hand delved into her timeline, everything pointed to Demi Moore's victory (she won the Golden Globe). But, after the Twitter discovery... nothing. It should not be forgotten that in the Oscars game, beyond the value of the performances, the message that accompanies them matters. In Moore's case, it was her long-forgotten myth status; in Mikey Madison's case, it was the risk that comes with a character who dares with everything and with her whole body (we are talking about sex), and in Karla's case, it was the value of a woman against all outdated and homophobic discourses. The revelation that she herself had authored some of those discourses in the past buried her candidacy, no matter how many apologies followed. That's how the Oscars are.
It is not far-fetched to think that Moore herself, the undisputed favorite, fell victim to this same reasoning. In the end, the voter would have decided to discard any added message and focus on the work itself. And of all the candidates, the most committed undoubtedly was Madison for exposing herself to the limit in each of the scenes.
Beyond Emilia Pérez, Jacques Audiard, and Karla herself, the other losers are not really losers. Cónclave could be singled out as one of the big losers considering it was the favorite for Best Picture. Some speculated that the preferential voting used in this category would benefit the film about the Pope due to its classic taste, a film for everyone, a film that doesn't displease anyone. That was not the case, and the reason is that Sean Baker is even more liked. The truth is that Edward Berger's film succeeded where it was favored (adapted screenplay) and that's it. Then there's the case of Timothée Chalamet ready to steal the crown of the youngest actor with an Oscar from Adrien Brody. His award from the actors' union (the largest group of voters) and his immersion in the figure of Bob Dylan beyond just his voice gave rise to hopes, or at least possibilities. That didn't happen either. And considering the immense size of The Brutalist, it's just as well.
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