TIME movies

Why the DreamWorks Launch Would Never Happen Today

Mar. 27, 1995, cover of TIME
Cover Credit: MATTHEW ROLSTON The Mar. 27, 1995, cover of TIME

Revisiting TIME's 1995 cover story about the then-upstart studio

Starting a major Hollywood studio isn’t easy—but for a moment 20 years ago, Steven Spielberg, Jeffrey Katzenberg and David Geffen made it look that way.

On the March 27, 1995, cover of TIME, the three men, collectively known as SKG, posed together under the headline “The Players”; the Oscar-winning director, the record-industry legend and the executive had joined forces (and pooled cash) the year prior to create a company, DreamWorks, that had not yet actually produced anything. No matter! The trio all had sterling track records (Spielberg was coming off the double success of Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List in 1993) and the sheer brio of it made their coming-together newsworthy.

“I guarantee that, when their first film premieres, everyone will say, ‘This is it? This is what these three geniuses have come up with?’,” Tom Hanks, friend to all three men, said in Richard Corliss’ TIME cover story. But at the time, that was all in the future. What underpins TIME’s 1995 coverage of DreamWorks is a sense of just how rare it is for a new force to rise in a Hollywood governed by a set of old, ossified studios. DreamWorks obtained investments, Corliss wrote, based on the hope that it would be “the prototype plugged-in multimedia company of the new millennium.” That it ultimately spent about ten years as an independent entity, largely producing traditional, mid-budget films rather than creating synergistic, plugged-in entertainments is unsurprising in retrospect—but TIME’s in-the-moment exuberance is completely understandable. After all, a new studio is something rare, and something that’s only grown rarer.

SKG didn’t spur imitators among independent producers, which is hardly surprising. Few people with the assets to start a studio, and the trustworthiness to obtain an even bigger line of credit to bankroll it going forward, need the trouble that Corliss’ piece hinted was ahead for SKG. “At DreamWorks, Katzenberg is a man with a mission; the other two are in it for the fun, which could wear thin quickly,” he wrote. But it seems, from the outside, that the studio’s difficulties had less to do with any clash in motivations than with facts on the ground about how Hollywood was changing.

The past decade has been as fallow for the upstarts that have by-and-large failed to materialize as it’s been stressful for the specialty divisions of major studios: Paramount Vantage and Warner Bros.’ New Line have been absorbed into their parent companies. In a marketplace that’s more and more defined by tentpole franchise pictures, the degree of difficulty in building a studio based on mid-range films (like DreamWorks’s inaugural films, The Peacemaker and Amistad) has grown steeper. Independent operators in Hollywood have found the industry, of late, particularly inhospitable. A trio like SKG would be yet more novel today than they were in 1995—but they simply don’t exist.

In late 2005, a bit more than a decade after their TIME cover, DreamWorks was sold by its founders to the media conglomerate Viacom, which also owned Paramount Pictures. The onetime new kid on the block was now effectively shackled to the epitome of the Hollywood establishment. They’d had several hits, including the animated Shrek franchise, but plenty of bad press as well; it turns out running a company in the present tense was more difficult than attracting positive press for future prospects.

“No one doubted the artistic talent at DreamWorks SKG when it was launched in 1994 amid hype befitting its superstar founders,” TIME noted some months before the sale, after an attempt to take the company’s animation division public failed miserably and DVD sales of Shrek 2 were wildly miscalculated. “Overlooked in the face of such Tinseltown royalty, though, was that none were proven CEOs.” It turned out that the trio’s $1 billion initial assets for the company were “perhaps a fifth of what was needed.” DreamWorks still had high hopes for the animated films that lay ahead, but TIME accurately predicted that Fox, Sony and Disney, all legacy media companies with long histories, would come roaring into that space as competitors; this year, DreamWorks Animation laid off 500 employees.

These days, the model for an independent producer is Megan Ellison, the 29-year-old heir to billionaire tech executive Larry Ellison. Her Annapurna Pictures finances movies that are risky (Zero Dark Thirty, Her, Spring Breakers) rather than Spielberg’s straight-over-the-plate commercial pictures. She can afford not to be a good CEO. Spielberg and company could not. Their 1995 spotlight on TIME’s cover represents a fleeting moment of possibility before the ground shifted.

Read the full 1995 cover story, here in the TIME Vault: Hey, Let’s Put On a Show!

TIME movies

Watch the New Trailer for the Upcoming Entourage Movie

"Dream large, live larger"

Warner Bros. just released the second trailer for its upcoming movie Entourage and it has more Hollywood celebrity appearances than a Perez Hilton lucid dream.

It has been almost five years since movie star Vince (Adrian Grenier) and his bro-team finished their HBO TV series but now they’ve made it to the big screen and Vince is determined to direct a film.

Of course, he’s joined every step of the way by E (Kevin Connolly), Turtle (Jerry Ferrara), Drama (Kevin Dillon) and super-agent-turned-studio-boss Ari Gold (Jeremy Piven).

Also starring is UFC champion Ronda Rousey, Calvin Harris, Jessica Alba, Russell Wilson, Liam Neeson, Pharrell, George Takei, Andrew Dice Clay, David Spade, Tom Brady, Ed O’Neil, Armie Hammer, Mark Wahlberg (who the series was based on) and business magnate Warren “I’m one quarter Coca-Cola” Buffett.

Entourage hits theaters June 5.

TIME celebrities

American Sniper Star Bradley Cooper And Suki Waterhouse Have Split Up

Bradley Cooper and Suki Waterhouse summer party on July 1, 2014 in London, England.
Fred Duval—FilmMagic Bradley Cooper and Suki Waterhouse summer party on July 1, 2014 in London, England.

24 months of romance is at an end

It’s over for American Sniper actor Bradley Cooper and model Suki Waterhouse, who first got together in March 2013. The Hollywood couple broke up ahead of January’s Oscars but now, People says, the news is official.

Despite the breakup, there will be enough to distract both: Cooper, 40, was out attending an Elton John concert Wednesday and dancing at Las Vegas clubs with Jonah Hill and Miles Teller.

Neither has work taken a back seat for either of them. Cooper is currently filming Joy and the Netflix remake Wet Hot American Summer, while Waterhouse’s Insurgent comes out Friday.


TIME animals

This Is What It Looks Like When 152 Black Cats Audition for a Movie

“As far as anyone could remember,” LIFE wrote, “it was the biggest invitation to bad luck ever seen in one place.”

When it comes to four-legged thespians, canines have generally achieved a greater level of fame than their feline rivals. We fondly remember Lassie, Benji and Toto, but cats seem to face a steeper path to Hollywood stardom. Blame it on the lack of good roles.

One role, however—the title character in Edgar Allen Poe’s 1843 short story The Black Cat—offered theatrically inclined kitties a chance to break through. In the story, the cat’s owner plasters him into a wall, along with his murdered wife. Eventually, the animal’s mewing from beyond the grave leads investigators to the woman’s body. The film adaptation, which would appear in the 1962 horror compilation Tales of Terror, adjusted the storyline by weaving in elements of another Poe tale.

Exactly 152 cats showed up for the audition, all of them “considerably less nervous than their owners.” Several were disqualified thanks to white paws or noses, but even for those left in the running, the day left dreams largely dashed. The lead role, it turned out, had already been filled by “a well-known professional cat.” Seven lucky extras, selected on account of having the meanest looking faces, were chosen as understudies.

Their owners, whose ambitions for their pets might just have exceeded those of the pets themselves, couldn’t help but let superstition get the best of them. Although they acted naturally around their own cats, “many took pains not to let any strange black cats cross their paths.”

Liz Ronk, who edited this gallery, is the Photo Editor for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.

TIME Hollywood

See the Cinderella Whose Performance Reached 100 Million Viewers in 1957

Rodgers and Hammerstein's televised Cinderella musical, starring Julie Andrews, was the TV event of the year

Kenneth Branagh’s adaptation of Cinderella, which hits theaters on Friday, has a big glass slipper—or several, really—to fill. The movie is the umpteenth in more than a century’s worth of film renditions of the classic fairy tale, some of them forgettable but others, like Disney’s 1950 animation, simply timeless.

Those who were tuned in to CBS on the evening of March 31, 1957, might find it difficult to refrain from comparing Branagh’s star, Lily James, to her most famous predecessor (at least in three dimensions): Julie Andrews. Andrews played the title role in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s TV adaptation, the only musical the pair ever wrote for television.

Seen by more than 100 million people that night—mostly in black and white but in color for the small percentage of viewers with color receivers—Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella served as a vehicle for Andrews, who was just coming off a stint on Broadway in My Fair Lady. Though TV musicals were common during the 1950s, they were mostly adapted from stage musicals. Cinderella, on the contrary, skipped the stage and went straight to TV.

The 90-minute program, LIFE wrote, told “the story of a slightly sophisticated, uncindery Cinderella whose evil stepfolk are clowns and whose magical life is filled with music.” A review in TIME praised Andrews’ performance (she “fitted the heroine’s role as if it were a glass slipper”) and Rodgers’ music (“the hero of the evening”) but panned Hammerstein’s script (“which kept shifting uneasily between the sentimental and the sophisticated, and making each seem lamer than the other”).

Andrews received an Emmy nomination for her performance and continued to star onstage and on the small screen until 1964’s Mary Poppins launched her film career. Though her turn in Cinderella earned her an Emmy nomination, she seemed to hold a softer spot in her memory for Eliza Dolittle. For all Cinderella’s continued appeal, My Fair Lady, she said in an interview, is “the best Cinderella story, really.”

Liz Ronk, who edited this gallery, is the Photo Editor for LIFE.com. Follow her on Twitter at @LizabethRonk.

TIME movies

Why Hollywood’s Diversity Problem Can’t Just Be Solved with Fancy Award Ceremonies and Gold Statues

Noble Johnson
John D. Kisch—Separate Cinema Archive/Getty Images Publicity still of American actor Noble Johnson, 1920

For most of its history, Hollywood has worked hard to identify—and undermine—the work of black actors and filmmakers

History News Network

This post is in partnership with the History News Network, the website that puts the news into historical perspective. The article below was originally published at HNN.

Last Sunday’s Oscars have once again renewed debates over Hollywood’s diversity problem. “Not surprising that an organization who’s 94% White & 77% Male doesn’t recognize diverse talent,” one critic tweeted before the ceremony, using the #OscarsSoWhite hashtag that first trended last month, after the Academy announced its all-white list of nominees for best actor and actress, and snubbed director Ava DuVernay. Meanwhile, supporters of Mexican filmmaker Alejandro González Iñárritu, who won for Best Director and Best Picture, argued that Hollywood was at least making progress. Iñárritu’s awards proved “compelling stories can be told by diverse talent,” Jack Rico wrote on NBC’s website the following day.

But recognizing black, Latino, and Asian talent has never been Hollywood’s problem. Hollywood has seldom overlooked the abilities of promising non-white filmmakers. In fact, for most of its history, Hollywood has worked hard to identify—and undermine—their work, which has been more detrimental to African American film than any Oscar snub. Keen to maintain its control over global film production, Hollywood wielded its political connections and economic might to establish systems that prevented independent black filmmakers from distributing their movies. When black filmmakers overcame these challenges, Hollywood responded by co-opting black cinema’s most marketable genres and directly competing with independent black film producers.

This history reaches back more than a century. When members of the first cohort of powerful American film producers, the Motion Picture Patents Company (MPPC),built up a national film market, they avoided offending their white audiences and censors in the South. That meant blacks wouldn’t be treated as equals either behind the camera or onscreen. Hollywood’s early producers were not members of the MPPC, but they gladly embraced and eventually strengthened these business policies as they battled their way to the top. When the first Hollywood blockbuster, Birth of a Nation debuted–a hundred years ago this month–Hollywood was already unmistakably invested in pleasing its white audiences at the expense of African Americans.

Fortunately, African Americans had their own cinema. It’s a little known fact, but long before the rise of Hollywood or better-known black filmmakers like Oscar Micheaux, black men and women began producing their own films. They developed sophisticated editing techniques, and invented new technologies for exhibiting motion pictures. In my book Envisioning Freedom: Cinema and the Building of Modern Black Life I describe how African Americans such as Harry A. Royston toured the country in the 1890s with film exhibitions “put together to please a colored audience.” Just a few years later, filmmakers like Mr. and Mrs. Conley, and William G. Hynes produced motion pictures about black progress. These pioneers of black cinema were the children of former slaves, or were born into slavery themselves. Their motion pictures broadcast ideas about black progress and raised money for black churches and other institutions dedicated to the mission of “racial uplift.” By the early 1900s, African American film could be found throughout the country.

Hollywood studios were suspicious of any threat to their markets. With few exceptions, early Hollywood producers were unwilling to invest in black film, but they still wanted to lock out any competition. To do so, Hollywood played dirty. Hollywood studios forced theaters that wanted the screen their films into “block booking,” which meant the theater could only screen films by their production houses. Later, the big players, including Paramount, Universal, and Fox, directly purchased their own theaters and conspired to corner the market by marginalizing the opportunities of independent producers to distribute their pictures, and by closing in on profits of “second run” theaters–the only places that exhibited independent black films.

Independent black filmmakers continued to produce movies, but found themselves boxed in. To grow into an industry that could produce big-budget, feature films, black filmmakers would need bigger distribution markets. But as Hollywood tightened its grip on the channels of film distribution, filmmakers like Oscar Micheaux found it impossible to place their movies in enough theaters to earn back their money. The Supreme Court eventually ruled that Hollywood’s monopolistic practices violated US antitrust laws, but not before hundreds of independent black film companies had been destroyed.

In other cases, Hollywood muscled out black independents by making their most bankable actors sign non-competition agreements. In 1917, Noble Johnson, an African American actor who played Native American, Latino, and Asian characters in Hollywood movies, co-founded the Lincoln Motion Picture Company. He produced and starred in three films before Universal demanded he disassociate himself from Lincoln Pictures or never work for Universal again. Johnson, who relied on his earnings from Universal to help finance his venture with Lincoln, had little choice but to resign. As the Lincoln Picture’s main draw, Johnson’s departure sounded a death knell to the company.

Despite the challenges that independent black producers faced, they proved there was a market for “race films.” Hollywood producers, having established a national (white) market for their films, began paying attention to the audiences they had ignored for decades. In the late 1920s, a growing number of Hollywood studios began producing “race films”; others toned down the virulent racism in their own films, and replaced white actors in blackface makeup with more African American performers. When the Great Depression hit, Hollywood, strapped for profits, doubled down on its efforts to woo over black audiences. The industry was still unwilling to offend the South, but after decades excluding African Americans actors, Hollywood producers could pitch featured roles as maids and butlers as “progress.” The 1939 film Gone with the Wind, and black actress Hattie McDaniel’s Academy award an Oscar for best supporting actress, exemplified Hollywood’s new inclusivity.

Hollywood’s strategies in Mexico haven’t been all that different from its efforts to squelch independent black film in the US. From World War I, when US films first came to dominate Mexico’s film markets, to NAFTA, the industry has relied on its powerful lobbies, tactics like block booking, and the recruitment of talented Mexican actors and filmmakers to work on Hollywood films. None of this, of course, is any secret. “Freed of fences and trade spikes, more folks in foreign countries will want to buy what Americans make and market,” Jack Valenti, former president and CEO of the Motion Picture Association of America (MPPA) wrote in support of NAFTA in 1993. Today, Hollywood controls about 90% of Mexico’s box office.

Without a doubt, Hollywood has a diversity problem, but one that can’t just be solved with fancy award ceremonies and gold statues. Above all, Hollywood is an industry motivated by profits, with a century-long history of aggressive and monopolistic business practices. So next time the Academy hands out its awards, we should remember to ask ourselves–who’s really winning the prize?

Cara Caddoo is the author of “Envisioning Freedom: Cinema and the Building of Modern Black Life (Harvard University Press, 2014). She teaches at Indiana University, Bloomington.

TIME Innovation

Five Best Ideas of the Day: February 27

The Aspen Institute is an educational and policy studies organization based in Washington, D.C.

1. Hollywood is less diverse than its audiences — and it might be hurting the bottom line.

By Austin Siegemund-Broka in the Hollywood Reporter

2. Facebook’s new suicide prevention tools finally get it right.

By Ashley Feinberg in Gizmodo

3. How will we understand the power of the bacteria in our bodies? Meet the crowdsourced American Gut project.

By American Gut

4. The road to artificial intelligence begins with computers mastering video games like a human being in the 80s.

By Rebecca Morelle at BBC News

5. Salting roads and plowing snow is inefficient and costly. A smart algorithm can save cities millions.

By Marcus Woo in Wired

The Aspen Institute is an educational and policy studies organization based in Washington, D.C.

TIME Ideas hosts the world's leading voices, providing commentary and expertise on the most compelling events in news, society, and culture. We welcome outside contributions. To submit a piece, email ideas@time.com.

TIME celebrities

Detectives Are Investigating the Theft of Lupita Nyong’o’s Pearl Dress

Mladen Antonov—AFP/Getty Images Actress Lupita Nyong'o poses on the red carpet in this combination image for the 87th Oscars on February 22, 2015 in Hollywood, California.

No arrests have been made yet

Detectives from the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department are investigating the theft of Lupita Nyong’o’s $150,000 gown.

The department received a call reporting the missing dress around 11:30 pm on Wednesday, the L.A. Times reports. Thursday morning, they were investigating around the London West Hollywood Hotel, but have not yet made any arrests.

The dress, whose 6,000 pearls made headlines during the 87th Academy Awards on Sunday, was designed by Francisco Costa for Calvin Klein.

[L.A. Times]

Read next: Everyone on the Internet Wants to Know What Color This Dress Is

Listen to the most important stories of the day.

MONEY Hollywood

Fifty Shades of Grey Box Office Already Tops 7 Best Picture Nominees Combined

Chuck Zlotnick—Focus Features/Courtesy Everett Collection Fifty Shades of Grey

In light of the glaring disconnect between the movies celebrated at the Academy Awards, and the movies that people actually pay money to see, the critique that the Oscars are out of touch seems more valid than ever.

The one overarching criticism of the 2015 Oscars isn’t exactly a new one. People have been complaining for years that the Academy Awards—who gets nominated, and who eventually wins—are generally too snobby, too elitist, and just plain too out of touch with mainstream American culture and the movie-going masses. This year, the near absence of minority nominees was especially glaring, noted by host Neil Patrick Harris’s joke that the night’s purpose was to honor “Hollywood’s best and whitest—sorry, brightest.”

“Members of the Academy have simply grown too old to appreciate, understand or even notice pop culture,” noted one USA Today column, citing data indicating that Oscar voters are not only past their prime (median age: 62) but also are overwhelmingly male and white.

As one film expert explained to the New York Times, the 2015 show gives much credence to the critique that the Academy Awards are snobby, and perhaps are growing increasingly irrelevant:

“It’s sad, but most people have to finally accept that the Oscars have become, well, elitist and not in step with anything that is actually popular,” said Philip Hallman, a film studies librarian at the University of Michigan. “No one really believes anymore that the films they chose are the ones that are going to last over time.”

For one indication of how out of touch the Oscars are with what fans want to see in theaters, look no further than how the current most popular film, Fifty Shades of Grey, compares at the box office with the Academy Awards’ darlings. Best Picture winner Birdman has taken in a total of $37 million in domestic ticket sales, while Boyhood—universally regarded as the runner-up in the category—did about $25 million at the box office in 2014. Together, that’s $62 million, or about two-thirds of the $94 million in revenues that Fifty Shades of Grey made in just four days around President’s Day weekend.

Overall, in less than two weeks, Fifty Shades of Grey has surpassed the $400 million mark in global ticket sales. Remove American Sniper—the one Best Picture nominee with truly blockbuster sales, to the tune of $320 million and counting—and the box office take of Fifty Shades already handily trumps that of the remaining seven Best Picture nominees combined. (Collectively, they’ve earned roughly $300 million in ticket sales, per BoxOfficeMojo.com.)

Based on this disconnect of the movies the Academy wants to celebrate and the films that the public actually wants to see, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that TV ratings for the show were exceptionally lackluster. The number of viewers dropped 16% compared with the year before, making for the fourth worst performance in four decades. Twitter usage related to the awards was down as well, by about 6%. Insult to injury: The show’s most tweeted moment didn’t feature a movie star or a new film, but was Lady Gaga singing a medley from The Sound of Music.

In the aftermath of the 2015 Oscars, which opened with a musical number in which Jack Black—star of Kung Fu Panda, Kung Fu Panda 2, and (soon) Kung Fu Panda 3, mind you—bashes Hollywood for focusing on box office results and pushing sequels and superhero films, James Gunn, writer and director of Guardians of the Galaxy, took to Facebook to defend comic book movies and, by extension, popular movies in general.

“The truth is, popular fare in any medium has always been snubbed by the self-appointed elite,” Gunn wrote on Monday:

“What bothers me slightly is that many people assume because you make big films that you put less love, care, and thought into them then people do who make independent films or who make what are considered more serious Hollywood films… If you, as an independent filmmaker or a ‘serious’ filmmaker, think you put more love into your characters than the Russo Brothers do Captain America, or Joss Whedon does the Hulk, or I do a talking raccoon, you are simply mistaken.”

Perhaps The Lego Movie—like Guardians, in the top five at the box office in 2014, but mostly snubbed at the Oscars—had the best response to the Academy’s elitism. The film was featured in what had to be the show’s Most “Awesome” Performance, with an wild and energetic version of “Everything Is Awesome” by Tegan and Sara and The Lonely Island. And in the middle of the song, dancers handed out “Oscars” built with yellow Lego bricks to the audience.

The move could be viewed as just some clever product placement, much like the movie itself. But it also might have sent a little message, along the lines of: Members of some elitist “Academy” aren’t the only ones who get to give out awards. Heck, anyone can make their own awards and hand them out however they please.

Isn’t that essentially what we’re doing when we plunk down good money to buy tickets to a movie?

TIME movies

Blame Male Geniuses for Hollywood’s Diversity Problem

THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING, Eddie Redmayne as Stephen Hawking, 2014. ph: Liam Daniel/©Focus
Focus Features

Science has shown that "genius" obsession is bad for women and minorities

The Best Picture nominees at this year’s Oscars have one thing in common: if they’re not about a broody, flawed, male genius, they’re made by one. Maybe the Academy should announce the Best Picture winner by scribbling it down furiously on an Ivy League dorm window with a Sharpie.

Whether it’s Alan Turing or Stephen Hawking or Martin Luther King, Jr., a drumming prodigy or a Navy SEAL or a theatrical powerhouse, six of the eight movies nominated for the Best Picture Oscar have the same agenda– a glimpse inside the dark and twisty mind of an exceptionally gifted man who is not like most mortals. The other two movies, Boyhood and The Grand Budapest Hotel, are passion projects of men who have long been heralded as geniuses themselves — Richard Linklater and Wes Anderson.

In the aftermath of the mostly-white, mostly-male Oscar nominations earlier this year, many pundits lamented the fact that the Oscars seemed so focused on the “complicated genius” profile. Alexandra Petri of the Washington Post even wrote a hilarious fake movie script that incorporates all the tropes of movies about geniuses. In a single line, she sums up the message of pretty much every Best Picture nominee this year: “Being a genius like me is hard.”

But the focus on genius is more than just a weird coincidence — it also could explain the lack of diversity at the Oscars this year, especially for women.

MORE This is How to Fix the Oscars

So all the Oscar films are about male geniuses — who cares? What’s wrong with grandiose celebrations of male intellectual accomplishments? Some of the world’s greatest triumphs were won with the brains of super-smart ubermenches! Well, for one thing, scientists have shown that genius-obsessed environments may be toxic for women. According to a new study published in January in Science, women and minorities are underrepresented in academic fields that are seen to value “innate brilliance” over hard work, like physics and math (ahem, Stephen Hawking and Alan Turing.) That’s because women are often stereotyped as not having the “spark of genius” that seems essential to that field. Even outside the academic sphere, professions that are wrapped up in an aura of “genius” don’t seem to be particularly hospitable to women. Just look at classical music, which reveres prodigies like Beethoven and Mozart — and four out of five of American orchestra conductors are male.

So is it a coincidence that an Oscar season that is so fixated on “genius” is also so feeble when it comes to women and minorities? Probably not. Between Ava Duvernay’s Best Director snub, the all-male nominations for screenwriting and the fact that no Best Picture nominees had a female lead, this year’s Oscars is considered one of the worst for women in recent memory. Considering the all-white acting nominations and snubs for Selma in all categories but two, this Oscars season is a low point for racial diversity as well.

For the Academy, it’s also an image problem. Considering all the bad press this year’s Oscars has gotten for the worst representation of women and minorities in almost 20 years, the fixation on genius doesn’t seem so brilliant after all.

Read next: Everything You Need to Know About the Controversies Surrounding This Year’s Oscar Movies

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