With the Academy Awards on the horizon, let’s take the time to assess one of the most outright Oscar bait-driven examples of cinema: the biopic. This film genre is defined by its retelling of a particular person’s life, typically a public entertainer or historical figure. Depending on the iconography or exciting appeal of the biopic’s subject, this classification garners immediate audience engagement, implying a director may have to work less hard to gain attention.

Directors offer the surface-level intention of celebrating and paying tribute to the figure and telling their story to a new generation. However, it cannot be denied that biopics always focus on immense suffering that is sometimes dramatised or just outwardly fictionalised for emotional effect. Despite marketed as a biography of a singer or actor’s life and career, biopics sometimes elevate the drama by fabricating the truth, relying on drama in their presentation, which compromises audience reception as this additional dramatic factor includes over-the-top portrayals of abusive behaviour and emotional distress subjected to the figure. However, the Academy responds positively to these dramatic elements because if there’s one thing the Oscars love, it’s intense, emotional and dramatic movies that tax audience emotions and depict actors hysterically crying or shouting to gain a ‘Best Actor’ or ‘Best Actress’ nomination.

With this comes the issue of a negotiated moral compass. Is it OK to dramatise and fabricate a person’s life just because you want to take a trophy home? This is accentuated when that person has passed away, as such emotionally distressing portrayals allude to the exploitation of the dead. Furthermore, when it comes to the drama factor, are over-the-top representations of trauma and suffering the only approach a biopic takes?

This all begs the question: does the biopic suffer from a morbid and questionable lust for suffering and emotional distress?

If there was one biopic that screams ‘yes’ to this answer, it’s the disgusting and morally bankrupt ‘semi-fictional’ biopic Blonde. This 2022 feature is Andrew Dominik’s exploitation of the icon of icons, actor Marilyn Monroe. Unlike the previous statement that biopic directors claim they wish to celebrate a figure’s life through their work, Dominik was disturbingly open about his true intentions of fabricating horrific and traumatic events. These startling circumstances are what he subjects his version of Monroe to, simply so that he can elevate the emotional engagement. Speaking to Sight and Sound, Dominik shared the unsettling vision of the film: "The film is a rescue fantasy," he said. This "fantasy" addition includes fabrications of graphic sexual assault, leading to over-the-top images of Monroe in hysterical fits during auditions. The director, when asked about the fictionalised assault scene and its disturbing nature, replied: "I don’t look at it on those terms. It just happens, it’s almost glossed over, and then the feeling follows her later". 

This is one of many harrowing images the audience is subjected to. Monroe is also forced to endure abortions – another fabrication – leading to disturbing visions of her aborted foetus blaming her. Studios also exploit Monroe for her looks, and the film represents her as a weak damsel in distress to pity, a depiction far from the true Marilyn Monroe. However, Dominik’s direction is an example of what film scholarship cites as ‘trauma porn’, meaning a creator simulates or depicts a traumatic event with the sole goal of generating an emotional response from the audience. The event’s purpose in this scenario is not to focus on the character(s) involved in the traumatic situation, such as their hurt, pain, and suffering. Instead, the focus is on the event itself to elicit a strong reaction from the audience.  

The branding claims that any visual media that display pain and trauma in excessive amounts does so for the sake of entertainment. Trauma porn exists on a morally corrupt scale in that its created not for the sake of the marginalised group but instead to console or entertain the non-marginalised group. It manipulates audiences into thinking they’ve watched a beautiful, poignant, and emotionally powerful piece of cathartic art because it profoundly affects them. However, objective rationality showcases the reality that it’s not art, its triggers you with graphic content, sometimes out of the left field. 

I think of trauma porn as a significant part of the Oscar bait manifesto. There is a direct correlation between emotionally harrowing and extreme onscreen depictions and gaining an Academy Award nomination, stemming from the cognitive misalliance just outlined.  

Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe in Blonde. (Credit: Netflix)

Blonde‘s existence is questionable because it goes against Monroe’s wishes not to be perceived as a sex symbol or have a biopic made of her. In addition, after news broke of the director’s nauseating "rescue fantasy" vision, a film boycott was called. Unfortunately, Dominik was able to attract enough viewers to stream the film on Netflix, bringing the movie to the top ten upon release and standing as compliant in Monroe’s exploitation. However, justice was served when Dominik’s controversial and misogynistic exploitation received eight nominations at the 43rd Golden Raspberry Awards, including ‘Worst Picture’ and ‘Worst Screen Combo’ for Dominik and his issues with women, leading the ceremony. This response is laughable in the broader context because it goes against the biopic tradition of racking up several prestige accolades. However, leading star Ana de Armas has been nominated for a ‘Leading Actress’ Oscar award because she screamed and cried in a biopic. 

A less heated example of this biopic dilemma is Pablo Larraín’s 2021 historical and psychological drama biopic, Spencer, narrating Princess Diana’s dire and distressing introduction to the British Royal Family in Christmas 1991. From the logline alone, Spencer and Blonde imply a potential pattern in centring culturally significant women who have passed on in biopics, focusing on any emotional turmoil they underwent and tying a gendered issue into the debate that fetishes women suffering on screen.

In the case of Spencer, audiences are forced to watch a beloved icon suffer from an eating disorder, alienation, and then a public divorce from her unfaithful husband, Charles. The film’s narrative emphasises the existential crisis the former Princess of Wales underwent, signalling this prevalent interpretation of trauma porn to garner audience investment and Oscar attention. Despite being a visually stunning film with a brilliant performance by Kristen Stewart as Spencer, Larraín’s movie submits to this discussion through its thematic concepts. Did a biopic about one of the most beloved figures in British, if not global, history have to highlight her suffering when she made many more positive influences through her persona, charity and fashion? 

Spencer changed the way the world viewed AIDS patients when she made the daring choice to show them love and physical affection. She spoke openly about her mental health struggles when keeping quiet about them was the norm. Why focus on her struggles when her successes were far more powerful? Even the film’s trailer opens with a brief shot of her in the bathroom regurgitating to showcase her eating disorder, setting the triggering and emotionally taxing tone. 

As one would expect, Spencer received an Academy Award nomination for ‘Best Leading Actress’ thanks to Stewart’s brilliant performance. However, this nomination was essentially inevitable, given the biopic and Academy’s dynamic and prioritisation of emotional turmoil in nominations.

To maintain objectivity, biopics showcasing significant male figures are also up for assessment, most notably Elvis. This visually spectacular film was directed by auteur director Baz Luhrmann, starring Austin Butler as musician Elvis Presley – one of the greatest American icons. Tom Hanks also features in the movie as Presley’s abusive and exploitative manager Colonel Tom Parker. 

Luhrmann showcases how Presley, despite an immensely successful career, suffered at the hands of his manager, showcasing the biopic’s need to frame suffering as a key plot credential. An engaging narrative element is that audiences view the story through Parker’s perspective as he recounts the time he met Presley and managed him on his deathbed. The film emphasises how Parker prioritised financial gain over Presley’s health, a heated matter due to the growing debts he was hiding. This abuse coincides with the singer’s drug misuse, which destroys his marriage to Priscilla Presley and leads to intense scenes of her throwing his pills at him as she screams. This sequence is traditional Oscar bait material.

Kristen Stewart as Princess Diana in Spencer. (Credit: Neon)

However, these thematically intense sequences are contrasted with visually celebratory ones that frame Presley as a powerful and talented superstar brimming with magnetism, attracting fellow acclaimed filmmakers to praise the movie. Luhrmann delivers some of his best work in the earlier concert sequences, using editing, sound and camera work to emphasise Presley’s glory, balancing the suffering with success. This cannot be said for Spencer, which falls short in visually celebrating Diana. Even Dominik spared some visually stunning shots of Monroe at movie premieres, only to override them with ones of her in pain.

In turn, Elvis reads as a more balanced biopic, allowing the abused subject to come out on top by mentioning how he became a global icon and remains so after his death. In contrast, his abuser died alone and in poverty. Elvis has contributed immensely to the Oscar and biopic exchange. At the 95th Academy Awards, it received eight nominations, including ‘Best Picture’ and ‘Best Actor’ for Butler. Thus, the film is the second-most nominated music biopic in the Academy Awards history behind Miloš Forman’s Amadeus. 

Another male-centred biopic – but emphasises suffering for dramatic effect – is Bohemian Rhapsody, the Freddie Mercury feature directed by Bryan Singer and starring Rami Malek. The film showcases the pop icon’s rise with his band Queen, accentuating the global stardom he achieved. However, it derives some dramatic effect by mentioning the controversy around Mercury’s bisexuality and the fractures it causes within the band, leading to a public outing. 

Like Elvis, Bohemian Rhapsody contrasts the thematic downsides of the figure’s life with some cinematic highs, such as the Live Aid performance sequence that frames Mercury’s timeless talent and energy. However, despite some visual achievements, the film attracted notable criticism for its accuracy since, as a drama, some events depicted are fictitious or exaggerated. For example, the backstory of Mercury’s family is less dramatic than the film portrays. The family were not forced to flee their hometown in Zanzibar but had a six-month window to move to Middlesex. With that, the film also fails to be faithful in portraying the singer’s HIV diagnosis. Mercury was diagnosed with HIV in 1987, two years after Live Aid, whereas the film places it before to heighten the drama as the performance is the focus point. Seeing the performer on stage in his defining career moment with the fictional contextualised knowledge he is dying may not be accurate, but it does make for an emotional watch, especially if it’s the closing sequence.

The visual blog Information Is Beautiful reported that Bohemian Rhapsody was 79.9% accurate compared to real-life events, meaning that 22% had to go towards dramatic and emotional fabrications. This factor resulted in the film gaining four wins at the 91st Academy Awards for ‘Best Actor’ (Malek), ‘Best Film Editing’, ‘Best Sound Editing’ and ‘Best Sound Mixing’. Singer’s film was also nominated for ‘Best Picture’. This reception shows that despite a historical inaccuracy concerning the utmost personal details and struggles of a deceased figure’s life, any accentuation of struggle attracts accolades. 

Overall, the biopic has an overt attraction to suffering, straying away from public stories where this is not the case. I am more than aware that there are biopics that tell suffer-free stories. However, they fall under the radar as they fail to gain the Academy’s attention. It appears that this pattern of biopics about entertainment icons emphasising suffering will only continue, as recent images of the filming of Back To Black, the upcoming biopic about Amy Winehouse, have surfaced online. These pictures show a scene in which Winehouse is crying and hysterical in the street, implying that the project, directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show its subject in an emotionally distressed state to accentuate the audience’s emotions. 

This discussion concerns re-assessments about what cinema audiences and award ceremonies yearn for in visual stories. Perhaps audiences need to turn a blind eye to the next dramatic biopic that shows a female performer screaming in hysterical fits or a male rock star risking his life for drugs. Maybe the Academy should cut back from this obsessive infatuation with trauma porn stories that place a beloved figure who will attract audiences as the face of the turmoil. Dare I say it’s time directors make biopics about icons, showcase the good they did with their careers, and ask actors to shoot a whole film without shouting for an entire runtime?