Claiming the posthumous prize

I suppose I should open with a few simple queries. Is there actually anyone out there who truly feels that Ray Charles made the finest album of 2004? Was Green Day's American Idiot too overtly blue state-friendly? Was Kanye West's The College Dropout too generously explicit? Were Usher's Confessions and Alicia Keys' The Diary of Alicia Keys jam-packed with too much pedestrian and mundane R&B? I suppose none of that matters, because Charles died, and untimely death will always take precedence over genuine artistry.\nBefore I go any further, I should make it known that I respect Charles' work on myriad levels. The man recorded many extremely influential albums during the first 30 years of his career (roughly 1957 to 1987, Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music and Ray Charles Live at Newport most specifically), and all are worthy of praise. The man made so many fine records, yet the final one of his lifetime, the Grammy-winning Genius Loves Company, was nothing more than a middling mix of thrown-together duets featuring the likes of the forever-boring Norah Jones and Diana Krall, as well as a couple decent but forced tracks with industry stalwarts such as Elton John, Van Morrison and James Taylor. All in all, it was less than a fitting farewell to a genuine musical legend.\nAnd yes, I am aware that the outcomes of award shows such as the Oscars and the Grammys, which are typically inter-industry ass-kissing festivals, do not reflect actual artistic merit. Let's not forget some of the less-than-stellar discs that have won Album of the Year at Grammys past during years literally loaded with great music, like Glen Campbell's By the Time I Get to Phoenix in 1968, Tony Bennett's MTV Unplugged in 1994 and the O Brother Where Art Thou Soundtrack in 2001. And while we're at it, we should also revisit some of the subpar films which have won the Academy's Best Picture honor, such as when the meanderingly endless "The English Patient" beat the Coen brothers' brilliant "Fargo" in 1996, or when the racially juvenile "Driving Miss Daisy" beat the racially radical "Do the Right Thing" in 1989 (and I won't even begin to get started on "Shakespeare In Love's" tragic besting of "Saving Private Ryan" in 1998).\nThese rants must seem like pure afterthought to someone reading this column several weeks after Ray's wins at the Grammys and Oscars, but weren't all those awards also, in essence, afterthoughts? Instead of honoring people while they still walk this earth, major award shows insist on bestowing honors to those since passed. My educated assumption is that if Charles were still alive today, not only would Green Day hold a deserved Album of the Year Grammy, but Ray's own biopic would have graced nothing grander than a television screen. I fear that the great Martin Scorsese, after losing to Clint Eastwood (who's Best Picture-winning boxing film "Million Dollar Baby" pales in comparison to Marty's own boxing saga, "Raging Bull") at this year's Oscars, may have to wait until he himself passes away to be honored by the Academy.\nWhat many people don't realize is, "Ray" was originally planned as a TV movie of the week. A television network devised the project, and Jamie Foxx was signed up due to his striking similarity to the legendary musician in question when wearing sunglasses. While Foxx is a talented performer in his own right, he does not actually sing the songs in the film, as Charles' original live and studio recordings are dubbed over the action. When the subject of the film tragically passed away of liver disease in June of 2004, film studios clamored to get a piece of the financial action they knew would come from producing his life story into a major motion picture. Marginally known film director Taylor Hackford was assigned, and the rest is well engineered history.\nFoxx truly studied Charles to prepare for the role. The two men met before production began, and they struck up a beautiful friendship. Foxx impersonated Charles masterfully in "Ray," but in the end it was simply that, an impersonation. Foxx himself offered up a more impressive performance this year in Michael Mann's "Collateral," for which he was also nominated by the Academy, but I suppose that role was too nondescript. In the end, Foxx won his Oscar and many other acting awards for his performance as Charles, regardless of the fact that Leonardo DiCaprio transcended Howard Hughes' emotionally disturbed persona with assured finesse or that Don Cheadle portrayed Paul Rusesabagina with a visually tangible inner fire and grace. In the end, Foxx's Oscar was less a personal nod of achievement to his acting prowess and more of another in a long line of tributes to Charles himself.\nMy real issue here, quite possibly arising too late and in the final paragraph, is that major music and film award ceremonies rarely honor art that is truly worthy of said honor. Recall the 1999 Oscars, for example, when Roberto Benigni beat a bump on a log for Best Actor in the horrid and Holocaust-mocking "Life is Beautiful." In turn, Green Day, as well as many other artists, made a far better album than Charles in 2004, and other than the conciliatory Best Rock Album nominations and Best Alternative Album monikers for these bands, none were acknowledged by the powers that be for their work. Some would try and comfort me by saying that the outcomes of award shows don't have any effect on society or national trends in popular entertainment, and for now I will agree with them -- until the year when Barry Manilow dies, his duet album with Clay Aiken and Kenny G topples the Grammys and his biopic, "He Wrote the Songs," sweeps the Oscars.