The Fifty-Second Academy Awards came on the heels of a great year of filmmaking. The idea of a 'blockbuster' had been heating up ever since
Jaws debuted in 1975, and 1979 proved itself to have had many movies in that category. Francis Ford Coppola's
Apocalypse Now narrowly won the award for Best Picture over highly-reviewed biopic
Kramer vs. Kramer--in fact,
Kramer was shafted multiple times to many different films, chiefly
Apocalypse Now (three awards) and
Raiders of the Lost Ark (six awards). The event was also a landmark year in animation, it being the first time the award for Best Animated Feature was given to another studio but Disney, with Universal's
Woody Woodpecker easily stomping all over non-existent competition.
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences faced an interesting dilemma in the aftermath of the ceremony. Many in Hollywood and around the world were infuriated that a 'children's movie' like
Raiders could have done so well. This, compounded with the intense pushback in 1978 over the award of Best Director to George Lucas for
Star Wars, led to a divide in the Academy on the topic of quality to be found in action-adventure movies like
Raiders or science-fantasy like
Star Wars or
Alien. This would come back in just one year to almost destroy the Academy's credibility in one spectacular backfire when, at the 53rd Oscars, they sidestepped one non-traditional film and caused nationwide--and industry-wide--outrage...
Awards Won at the 52nd Academy Awards
Best Picture: Apocalypse Now
Best Director: Steven Spielberg and George Lucas,
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Best Actor: Harrison Ford,
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Best Actress: Sally Field,
Norma Rae
Best Supporting Actor: Melvyn Douglas,
Being There
Best Supporting Actress: Meryl Streep,
Kramer vs. Kramer
Best Original Screenplay: Breaking Away, Steve Tesich
Best Screenplay Adapted from Other Material: Apocalypse Now, Francis Ford Coppola/John Milius and Joseph Conrad
Best Animated Feature: Woody Woodpecker, Gary Goldman and John Pomeroy
Best Animated Short Film: Every Child, Derek Lamb
Best Documentary Feature: Best Boy, Ira Wohl
Best Documentary Short Subject: Paul Robeson: Tribute to an Artist, Saul J. Turell
Best Live Action Short Film: Board and Care, Sarah Pillsbury and Ron Ellis
Best Original Score: Raiders of the Lost Ark, John Williams
Best Adaptation Score: All That Jazz, Ralph Burns
Best Original Song: "Rainbow Connection
,"
The Muppets Movie, Paul Williams and Kenny Ascher
Best Sound: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Bill Varney, Steve Maslow, Gregg Landaker, and Roy Charman
Best Foreign Language Film: The Tin Drum, West Germany
Best Costume Design: All That Jazz, Albert Wolsky
Best Art Direction: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Norman Reynolds, Leslie Dilley, Michael Ford
Best Cinematography: Apocalypse Now, Vittorio Storaro
Best Visual Effects: Alien, H.R. Giger, Carlo Rambaldi, Brian Johnson, Nick Allder, and Dennis Ayling
Best Film Editing: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Michael Kahn
--------------------------------
Walt Disney Studios, Burbank, CA
April 18, 1980
Osamu Tezuka gazed up at the sight of the Mickey Mouse-emblazoned watertower that dominated the Burbank skyline. The flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles had been abominable--ten hours in an enclosed metal capsule without sleep wasn't fun, no matter how much legroom you had--but here he was, with two of his most promising new recruits: nineteen-year-old college dropout Masanori Ota, and twenty-six-year-old Katsuhiro Otomo.
"You know, if Astro Boy becomes as famous as Mickey Mouse, we could get our own water tower like that," quipped Ota.
Tezuka shrugged. "And what would the advantage to that be? We already have indoor plumbing and water in every part of the studio."
"Bragging rights," stated Otomo.
As the three Japanese animators stepped onto Dopey Drive, the whole demeanor of the world changed. No more did it feel like Burbank, California, home to some of the world's greatest filmmaking studios; it felt more like a dreamworld come to life, bending to one rule and one rule alone: there were no rules. A man in a Roman chariot pulled by a horse roared past, hollering to get out of the way. A purple animatronic dragon, a ram clutching an old-timey explosives plunger in its teeth, and a variety of pirates all loaded in a trailer was being towed by a pickup truck in the opposite direction. Someone holding a large art folder screamed as the wind picked up, blew the folder open, and scattered their drawings and computer-generated renderings everywhere.
"It's
chaos!" exclaimed Otomo.
"I don't know about that. I'd say it's more like...
controlled chaos. Walt doesn't care
how things get done, as long as they get done
right," said Tezuka.
His employees nodded. "Definitely not how we would do it in Japan," mused Ota, "but if it works out, well..."
After a bit of blind stumbling, Tezuka and the others managed to get directions up to Walt's office. There, the man himself sat in his desk chair, swiveled in the wrong direction, towards a television set showing a black-and-white cartoon. He spoke, addressing the group but with his focus still on the TV. "You know, Tezuka-san, I can't quite understand why Eastern animation has had to wait this long to hop the Pacific. Some of the ideas and plotlines are admittedly a bit strange, and it'll probably take Western audiences a bit to warm up to it all... but other than that, this is just another way to tell a story."
Tezuka looked closer, and noticed that Walt wasn't watching just
any anime, but
his anime. The 1963 version of
Astro Boy, to be specific. "I'm flattered you think so," he replied.
Walt switched off the television and spun to face the trio. "Do any of you have any guesses as to why I called you all here?"
Tezuka gulped. "Um... I hope it's good news."
Walt suddenly broke into a grin. "It's
very good news! I've just watched the old
Astro Boy cartoons. This is my third time through, actually. And I just have to say,
I love it. If the remake is anything as excellent as this--and I think it'll be
better--then we'll be needing more anime on the Disney Channel, ASAP. That's what I called you here for, and, for the record," continued Walt, turning to Masanori Ota and Katsuhiro Otomo, "I told him to bring his two best idea-makers along, too."
Both men seemed to suddenly take an interest in their shoes, faces red with pride and embarassment.
"Anyways, what have you got? Give me the first ideas off the tops of your heads, you two," he demanded.
Ota spoke up first. "Um, I had this idea for... sort of a retelling of the Titanomachy, the war between the gods and Titans in Greek mythology, but told in the future, and with androids in place of the gods and goddesses."
"Boom," said Walt. "Just like that, you've got one, maybe two seasons of a TV show. And there's so much more to build off of, too."
"I've got a concept that's a bit more fleshed out than his, sir," offered Otomo.
Walt held up a hand. "Please, call me Walt. We don't do 'sirs' or 'madams' around here."
The writer nodded. "Apologies. My story takes place sometime in the future, after a nuclear holocaust. In the ruins of Tokyo, a young man awakens some psychic powers, and from there there are some big problems with gang wars, terrorism, the Olympic Games... maybe some of the violence can be tuned down, but I won't do it in a way that will compromise my vision."
"Of course. Artistic integrity always comes first," responded Walt.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Walt answered, and his expression fell. He stood, and said, "I'm very sorry, but I've got an emergency at home. The dog's not doing too well, and my wife loves the thing, and... well, I have to go. But I'll be back soon! Just make yourselves at home. We still have much to discuss."
