Ahh, Oscar. In 70 years of deciding the merits and failings of film, the Academy Awards have been glorified and vilified, denounced as narrow-minded political dealings between Hollywood muckety-mucks and praised as clearly focused ideals of what is and isn't great about film-making.

What they really are is strictly subject to personal opinion, but one thing is certain: the Oscars are big business. Films have seen their profits skyrocket on the basis of nominations and gold statuettes. Careers have been made and destroyed by the whims of the Academy.

Naturally, the public wants to get in on the action. Most people participate vicariously through the televised production, oohing and aahing over what designer concoctions the stars are wearing. Yet the real power is in the naming of the chosen ones. Since such a large portion of the nation's entertainment rests on the build-up and aftermath of these awards, the American people should be in on them.

But there's a nasty little thing called rules in this world, and most of us can't join the Academy unless we have contributed large sums of money or are in the upper echelons of Hollywood society (e.g. have already won an Academy award). These rules are a problem, seeing as their application has resulted in an Academy whose members are old (median age over 50), predominately white men. That leaves a significant part of the country out of the loop. This being a democracy, the people must be spoken for.

The youth of America, who make up a large percentage of movie-goers, have not been represented as they should be. (Anyone seen Mrs. Brown,for which Judi Dench received a Best Actress nomination? Anyone heard of Judi Dench?) We at Harvard may feel particularly left out, seeing as we were the inspiration for a disproportionate number of Oscar-nominated films this year.

With this in mind, I'd like to propose the Oscars for the college student. It's a short list, by no means comprehensive, because let's face it, no one really pays attention to the "Best Cinematography in a Foreign Language Film" anyway.

Best Picture: Good Will Hunting. Aside from the hamminess Robin Williams always feels compelled to produce when presented with a serious role (somehow he manages to look sillier in movies like Dead Poets Society than in movies like Jack,) this is the movie of the year. The screenplay respects the audience's sensibilities, the characters are multifaceted and intriguing, and of course, it has some great shots of the Spare Change man on Mass. Ave.--blatant Harvard propaganda at its best. Not only does it have the only "poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks meets high-spirited rich girl" story that matters this year, but it recognizes that intelligence comes in all forms.

Best (Study Break) Picture: Face/Off. Clocking in at close to two-and-a-half hours, Face/Off is John Woo's pulp epic with one of the most devious action plots ever. Woo breaks out the book of Coppola for the artistry behind his intricate family entanglements, lush cinematography and immaculately choreographed violence. So he doesn't have Coppola's storytelling skill; who needs a story when you can have Travolta and Cage?

Best Actor: Samuel L. Jackson, for Jackie Brown. Okay, so the movie wasn't what anyone expected. But it's high time everyone acknowledged Jackson's genius. He's too raw and too passionate for the Academy, but those gremlin eyes have lit fires under young people since Pulp Fiction.

Best Female Actor: Recipients are always the hardest to find, and with good reason: most of the roles Hollywood writes for women are pure trash. This year, however, there was a great performance in a most unlikely place. Julianne Moore, playing the motherly porn star of Boogie Nights, blew the lid off her role.

Best Supporting Actor: Derrick N. Ashong '97, for Amistad. Don't fake the funk.

Best Supporting Female Actor: Minnie Driver in Good Will Hunting. I'm not biased or anything, but if it's not broke then don't fix it.

Best Screenplay: There's nothing like sitting around with your friends trying to figure out the twists of a great film noir. L.A. Confidential was awfully sunny for the genre, but it had the omnipresent sense of uneasiness necessary to give you the shivers. Plus, it had more surprises than any movie since The Usual Suspects.

With a little luck, the Academy will one day take into account that young people do think about the important things--plot, character, screenplay, etc.--when they watch movies. But hey, Matt Damon is a voting member now.

Caille M. Millner is a first-year in Matthews Hall.