Oscars 2022: Will Smith's Best Actor honour is a timely reminder that he remains the biggest Black star of his generation

Many might not remember but there was a time back in the first decade of this new millennium when Indian choreographer Shiamak Davar bought Will Smith onstage in a desi awards function, and made him dance to a couple of Bollywood numbers. It does not say much about the Hindi film industry’s clout but it does say something about the heights Smith’s career had reached at a point when he was being courted by everyone.

Smith was a shoe-in to win Best Actor at this year’s Academy Awards for a thoroughly mesmerizing performance as Richard Williams in King Richard. His time had come for Smith is easily the biggest Black star of his generation, or maybe just any generation. Sure, Denzel Washington is the better actor, but when it comes to achieving global acclaim and recognition, Smith maybe paved the way for Black actors to be idolised as the ‘Hero’ long before it became natural and expected.

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Smith had a glorious first decade in the industry, going from being a trash-talking action star in Bad Boys (1995) to a household name with the likes of Independence Day (1997) through an Oscar-nominated performance in Ali  (2001). Because the Oscars legitimise the stature of one’s art, people forget it is ultimately the court of public opinion that most actors must answer to. And in an era of dreamy white boys like Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise, it was actually Smith who emerged as a truly global star at a time when Hollywood’s studios really needed one.

Mainstream films come with the baggage of mainstream politics, where the homogenisation of identity — of the white actor as hero — is something we are still getting used to moving past. While Black men, who used violence before his arrival, have were portrayed as outlaws, Smith’s smart-talking charms compensated for whatever he lacked in terms of racial identity.  

The sight of a black men being the centre-piece of the big-budget Hollywood story was an uncommon sight before the actor’s ascension. Sidney Poitier, Wesley Snipes, Morgan Freeman, and of course Denzel Washington, had all been around but none could really penetrate the mainstream. Washington, for all his incredible body of work, still has not. As much as we criticise mainstream cinema, a simple law of space applies to the growth of the business. The more actors are accommodated by the mainstream, more the chances of the audience discovering indie cinema that the same actors lend their voice too. It is a feeder system but it works when a Brad Pitt or a Tom Cruise chooses to work with a Quentin Tarantino or a Paul Thomas Anderson, Directors who would not usually make your weekend watch list. Smith, while he did big-ticket films like I Am Legend, also produced gems like The Pursuit of Happyness, a formulaic, underdog film that re-established his prowess as an actor. At least before his decline began.

Like most great, maybe mercurial and gifted artists, Smith’s decline over the last decade has been ponderous and desperate at best. Maybe Smith forgot who he was, and went full-tilt into conventional Oscar-bait films that kind of also underlined the importance of restraint. From Seven Pounds to Focus, Smith has laboured through roles that, in retrospect, seem like a desperate call for recognition. For the longest time, it felt like Smith had left his instinctively self-reflective personality behind to clamour for approval in a world where he too believed a lifeless statuette was worth a billion people’s love. We almost always view artists through the lens of acclaim rather than love, and it is what makes the superstar in them both powerful and susceptible to the casual criticisms of the day. Populism is a bad omen these days, but in terms of art, it is still near impossible to achieve for so much has changed about the world of cinema today. For some time now, Tom Cruise has been regarded as the last living superstar in Hollywood but for a decade or so, it was Smith, his popularity a formative structure the likes of Dwayne Johnson would inherit where the colour of his skin has ceased to matter, at least for a brief moment in American or maybe world history.

Smith’s Oscar win was due, and it thankfully happened at a time when the world might have begun to think if he even had it in him anymore.

It is a bit of a journey from being the token black guy in Independence Day to being The Guy in a film about being the last man on earth — not just as its luckiest survivor, but perhaps its smartest, most self-aware protagonist. It is a journey Smith managed to travel within the space of a decade, and in doing so, opened doors to a cultural refurbishment that has done more for social acceptance than any of the films made about slavery, racism etc.

It is just unfortunate that this long-due moment will forever be marred and underlined by fallout from what was easily bad judgement on his part. Hopefully his performance, like his longevity and range, will tide over this latest moment of lowliness.  

Manik Sharma writes on art and culture, cinema, books, and everything in between.

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