Thank God for Karla Sofía Gascón's Tweets

Without them, we wouldn’t know who she really is.

Photo by Medios y Media/Getty Image

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I love awards shows.

In our era of toxic positivity, we’ve all been told there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure. But I’m here to bravely say that I do in fact feel a sense of shame and remorse about this passion, while loving it all the same.

I not only love awards shows, I love awards season. Actually, I love awards seasonS, no matter the medium. It’s fun to observe them, it’s fun to criticize them, it’s fun to psychoanalyze them, and it’s fun to use them as a clarifying lens through which we might be able to discern who’s a real one and who can eat shit. It's heaven and hell covered in rhinestones.

My “guilt” stems from knowing that much of this parade is a money-fueled farce that’s designed to uphold the status quo. It’s vapid, solipsistic, and often outright dull. I don’t care!! I want it all. I listen to awards-related podcasts. I read, I study, I do a ballot every year for the Oscars. You will never take away my joy in watching these annual spectacles, no matter how bad they are.

✨Relatedly, I cannot wait to discuss this year’s movies with my fellow Discourse Blog staffers next week, as we’ve done in years past. Stay tuned! ✨

My point here is that I’m a longtime follower (dare I say scholar) of the Academy Awards. With that wealth of knowledge behind me, I can confidently say that up until a few months ago, this film awards season was incredibly boring. The movies this year are largely meh to fine, and that’s the biggest sin imaginable in this rodeo. Even the ones that are good simply don’t have a lot of propulsive force or passionate fanfare behind them.

In November/December January, any drama around the race was fairly nonexistent. We were marching along. There were no big heroes or villains to speak of. That is, until Emilia Pérez—the musical about a trans, Mexican former cartel leader seeking redemption—swept the Golden Globes. After that, people started paying a lot more attention to the fact that many trans people and Mexicans had very real issues with the movie. So did people with taste, depending on who you asked. Even then, Emilia Pérez hadn’t fully taken on the role of an outright villain.

That changed on January 30, when journalist Sarah Hagi went looking into star Karla Sofía Gascón’s Twitter history:

Sarah Hagi // Twitter

The fallout from this revelation is still in progress, but needless to say, Gascón’s numerous racist, xenophobic, and Islamophobic tweets blew this campaign right up. Netflix distanced themselves, the cast distanced themselves (though not entirely), and the culture at large did one big homerbushes.gif. It’s largely agreed upon that the revelation has tanked Emilia Pérez’s chances of winning the Best Picture prize, though costar Zoe Saldana seems to have the Best Supporting Actress trophy in the bag.

I don’t have a ton of complicated or lingering feelings about this on the surface. But the main thing I keep thinking is: thank god.

Let me explain why.