"Parasite" Revolutionized How We See Best Picture Winners

Bong Joon-ho

Back in 2009 when I was discovering who I was as a cinephile, there were a handful of movies I was recommended. My friend Dorian, more a fan of eastern cinema like J-Horror and Studio Ghibli, joined me on a quest to watch all of these films, discovering some of the finest voices of contemporary cinema. Among those films was The Host, itself already promising given our love for monster movies. While I had expected there to be rabid chaos letting loose, I hadn't expected there to be so much personality and humor, creating a social commentary within this realm that I hadn't fathomed would have anything memorable to say besides giving the audience a thrill. Maybe it was because I was young, but the way it enhanced story only proved to me that international cinema had this capability of connecting to me, even if I couldn't tell you a single thing about South Korea. In that way, I was a changed man.

Along with the great Park Chan-Wook (The Vengeance Trilogy), the decade to follow was an incredible time to watch The Host's director Bong Joon-ho emerge as this larger-than-life personality, helping to bring attention to the incredible Korean Wave of cinema still going on. There was something special about Joon-ho, who constantly returned to the conversation with these abstract genre thrillers like Snowpiercer and Okja: films that sought to connect Korean ideology with western interests. With Parasite, he found a way to create the ultimate universal tale in a story of the economic struggles of the working class as they fight for a little luxury. It was known not only by critics but also by its unprecedented box office run. This wasn't just another South Korean import. It was a $167 million success story that went even further. By winning Best Picture at the Oscars, Joon-ho did the unthinkable in elevating himself from connecting with the weirdos who love international cinema, to just being plain accepted for making an undeniable masterpiece that has a lot to say both in text and in success about the future of film.

There was an atomic bomb that went off following Green Book winning Best Picture in 2019. Along with being one of the most controversial awards seasons of the decade, many saw the win as a regressing to the means. The Los Angeles Times called it the worst winner since Crash. Everything was to suggest that as much that The Academy had changed by giving Moonlight and The Shape of Water the prize in the past, that it was more of a  fluke. They were going to start playing it safe again, hitting on crowd-pleasers that had a dated aspect that younger generations found problematic. For all intents and purposes, Green Book hasn't lost the stink of beating films that many argued were better, such as the more aggressive racial commentary BlacKkKlansman. Then there was Roma: a Netflix juggernaut that changed their game for the better while asking audiences to question how to view a movie. Roma's loss was also painfully symbolic because it was a Mexican film that continued the trend that a foreign language film would NEVER win Best Picture. The Academy would always prefer the safe route to something interesting and artistic. They were shutting themselves off with Green Book, and that win sent a familiar message that has been resoundingly resented by audiences.

That is why I saw Parasite as this impossible winner. Even in a year where it was a box office phenomenon, where it won every guild prize imaginable, including an amazing win for Best Ensemble at the Screen Actors Guild Awards. Given the looming shadow of Green Book, it felt impossible to see Parasite where Roma couldn't. The Best Picture category is cramped with international films that felt like they had to compromise a "one or the other" route, where to win the then-named Best Foreign Film immediately disqualified you from winning Best Picture. It's a pain that films like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Life is Beautiful, Cries and Whispers, Amour, Roma, The Postman, La Grand Illusion, The Emigrants, Z, and Letters From Iwo Jima all know too well. Even when they were included, they were "the other," a bridesmaid but never a bride. In 91 years, there hadn't been a thought to rattle things up and give the prize to a film entirely divorced from the English language. It's what makes nominees like 1917 and Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood seem sexy. They are conventional winners. There is a precedent for their paths. Parasite? It's littered with consolation prizes.

What many probably took for granted was the stealth mission of the Best Director branch, where the bridesmaids often dominated. Between 2010 and 2019, Damien Chazelle (La La Land) was the only American winner. The others included British-African Steve McQueen (12 Years a Slave), French Michel Hazanavicius (The Artist), Taiwanese Ang Lee (Life of Pi), and Latinx filmmakers: Alfonso Cuaron (Gravity, Roma), Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Birdman, The Revenant), and Guillermo del Toro (The Shape of Water). As vanilla as Green Book seemed, it feels more coincidental when taking into account the winners who have been bubbling beneath the surface for about a decade. The Academy HAD been recognizing directions from around the world, it just wasn't hitting where most thought it mattered most: Best Picture. Still, it felt like the next step would never happen because Best Picture was a different beast. Best Director could be given to films of technical achievement, but Best Picture was the universal crowd-pleaser, and that often meant going safe, appealing to young and old in a way that never recognized the most captivating film in a given year. 

Parasite had so much history to overcome, and my worries continued until the end. As the waves of Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood gave way to The Irishman gave way to 1917, it felt like the conversation was going in a conventional direction, the conversations forming their predictable paths. Even the dark horses like Joker or Jojo Rabbit had some sort of message to fall back on. Parasite, at best, had the benefit of being the most acclaimed movie of the group (it is currently the top-rated Best Picture winner on Rotten Tomatoes). It had also won the Palme d'Or at Cannes earlier in 2019, but that was just as much of a roadblock as other years. Outside of Marty's Palme d'Or win 65 years ago, none have tied with Best Picture since (though films like Pulp Fiction have come close). At most the buzz out of Cannes was that Parasite was this must-see film, rich with a story that nobody dared to spoil. In a season that's seen, people ruin the ending of Jojo Rabbit to (falsely) prove a point, it was amazing to see Parasite receive diplomatic immunity, becoming an event film without any conventional sense.

I also had seen Joon-ho miss the cut multiple times in the past. Even though Snowpiercer stood little chance at being more than a crowd-pleaser (his bread and butter), the follow-up Okja was considered to be one of Netflix's biggest Oscar contenders. It got booed at Cannes and once again settled for being a crowd-pleaser, full of its odd imagery and love of environmentally friendly messaging. The idea of a genre filmmaker has shifted a bit in recent years thanks to The Shape of Water winning Best Picture, but even that had something deeply rooted in American culture. What did Parasite have to make it appeal on a level beyond genre fans? As positive feedback from voters came in, the answer was very clear. They weren't being intimidated by the subtitles or the pseudo-haunted house tone. They were seeing the story for what it was and, for the first time in Oscar history, willing to give a foreign language film a shot at something greater. 

The past five years have made a strong argument for this being the most exciting period in The Academy's already lengthy history. In this time, former Academy President Cheryl Boon Isaac's quest to diversify the voting group was starting to shine through. Suddenly black queer narratives like Moonlight were valid Best Picture winners. The Shape of Water redefined the monster movie into an art film. Even the nominees were becoming bolder, more interesting. But the question still remained: would an international film ever win the category? Not only did Green Book set up a roadblock, but next year's Best Picture lineup is maybe one of the most masculine and dull since 2014's class of indie films like Whiplash, Birdman, and Boyhood. Films like Joker, The Irishman, and Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood found filmmakers looking back on the past. It was ironic that the one feminine nominee (Little Women) was a period piece with an even more modern take than most of its competition. Everything seemed regressive, and the lack of acting nominations for Parasite or additional Asian-directed films like Lulu Wang's The Farewell only reaffirmed this idea that Green Book was a return to the norms. 1917 was going to win and the older crowd would have their precious English-language art.

As an Oscar fan, I had gotten used to my type of movie losing. As much as I love drama, I loved indie cinema with these weird ticks that challenged the idea of what a film could be. There was so much that I had come to take for granted, especially as notorious winners like The King's Speech beat films that my generation holds as standard-bearers like The Social Network. I desperately wanted A Star is Born to win last year, but knew that it wasn't even the fifth-favorite for the category. I'm that used to losing. Even as I stared at the odds on Gold Derby, this idea that I was about to see history felt doubtful. I had this fear that I needed to go safe. I went with La La Land the year of Moonlight, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri the year of The Shape of Water. I keep doubting that The Academy is really as advanced as they claim they are, and nowadays they've done an incredible job of surprising me.

It's what made that Best Picture announcement so gratifying. It was the moment where I could've been right or wrong, and the pain of hearing Jane Fonda announce the nominees was painful. For the last time, they were all equal. Little Women and Joker stood as much of a chance as 1917 did, as Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood did. I desperately wanted to be wrong and to hear Parasite called, but Green Book had taught me to expect just vanilla ice cream when I could've been having sprinkles and gummy worms on it. There could be interesting winners that spoke immensely about the power of film. I had become doubtful because more than Parasite being an international film, it was an Asian film. The Academy is terrible at nominating Asian actors, and that alone had me believe that despite Parasite winning three awards before, that it surely couldn't have been this easy. Much like the rebel who's arrested every other week that Jane Fonda is, that card read was an elation that has since become a Twitter meme. EVERYBODY has a recording of how they reacted to Parasite breaking history, and part of me feels like I should've, though I'm never much of an overreactor. I sit in disbelief, letting history process.

Suddenly the barriers are down for the first time in my life. Everything that I have been told as a child, even as an Oscar prognosticator going on 11 years, is now a bygone era. Can a positive queer story win Best Picture? Yes, it can. Can a genre movie rich with b-movie imagery win Best Picture? Yes, it can. The only real hurdle left was the international film. The years of loving the Oscars and watching Joon-ho feel like this little secret with The Host and Snowpiercer had paid off. Suddenly the weird kid who ended two Oscar speeches about how he was getting drunk that night was the talk of the town. To see legends like Spike Lee, Quentin Tarantino, and Martin Scorsese almost bow down to him (even Tom Hanks seemed to love the moment when he demanded the lights come back up) was to recognize something that I had always known watching movies with Dorian over a decade ago. The film was a great unifier, and Parasite was about more than South Korean economics. It was something that connects with any country that lives off the gig economy structure clashing with more traditional formalities. It felt American to see a family fold pizza boxes while looking at online videos or to run through a house looking for Wi-Fi signals. Joon-ho made a film that transcended barriers in ways that people other than me and Dorian understood, and that blows my mind.

There is a barrage of achievements that come with this win. The easiest to point out is that it's the first foreign-language film to win Best Picture, as well as the first Best International Film to also have that honor. There's so much that it would be a disservice to point out here. The Academy Awards this year was a celebration of cinema's ability to reach out, and there were breadcrumbs along the way. Over the summer of 2019, Best Foreign Film's name was changed to Best International Film. During the BAFTAS, Joaquin Phoenix gave a speech about needing more diverse representation. So many small things were hinting at Parasite that went beyond the film, and it showed that after decades and a near-century of being told that English was the superior cinematic language, Parasite proved that there wasn't any reason to believe that. Cinema's international language was cinema, where movement and stories were more powerful than any one word in any one language. If you watch Joon-ho's filmography, he always believed that, and it makes one wonder if the future will be more interesting.

In a year that had some troubling statistics, Parasite was the best note to end on. Seeing a South Korean film dominate the Oscars in its inaugural year (no other Korean film has been nominated at all at the ceremony) is so heartwarming. Sure, it would've been great if The Farewell could've gotten Shuzhen Zhao into Best Supporting Actress, or Hustlers get Jennifer Lopez, but that's a conversation that still needs to be worked on. Even the idea of an international film winning Best Picture and having a different one win Best International Film (might I suggest the powerful Pain and Glory?) feels like the next step. Still, having a room of Academy voters demand that the Best Picture speech keep going to celebrate this moment is something that gives hope that the future is going to be brighter, more abstract and that we'll have a lot more oddballs joining the cut by the time we celebrate the centennial in a few years.

Parasite's win is more than recognizing what is undoubtedly the best film of 2019. It was about defying all expectations that prove Joon-ho's philosophy right. Cinema wasn't about translating your work into English. Some stories are better in their own national language. The world is slowly starting to realize it, and there's a sense that things are becoming even more connected as a result. The truth is that people around the world love cinema and have used it as ways to express themselves. Now there is an official example, the start of a new road, for people to know that their stories are just as valid as Spotlight, Moonlight, The Shape of Water, or Green Book. There is no reason to doubt that, and hopefully, those genre filmmakers around the world starting today now realize that they too can have the power to make something so powerful that it can win an Oscar, allowing you to share your love to the filmmakers you admired growing up to their face. Joon-ho's translator Sharon Choi is already planning on making a film about Oscar season. Will we see her here in the near future? One can hope.