It’s that time of the year again when Indians collectively lament the loss of another chance at an Oscar nomination. Last year, India’s Oscar story ended with a familiar ache. Laapataa Ladies (2023), a warm, deft, crowd-friendly story, didn’t make it to the Oscars shortlist, and the conversation dissolved into our usual mix of outrage, conspiracy, and resignation. This year, we got closer. Homebound (2025) made it to the shortlist. Only to once again come up short of a nomination.
On paper, this sounds like progress. In reality, it feels like déjà vu with better PR.
Every time a rejection happens, we hear the same refrain:
“The Academy doesn’t get us.”
“Oscar folks like poverty porn.”
“They have an outdated view of India.”
The reality, however, is quite different. Just like box office performance is not the sole indicator of a film’s quality, the Oscar race isn’t only about cinema. It’s also about access, visibility, and money. A long, sustained campaign that ensures the voters watch your film, the American or global media talk about your film, and there’s sustained buzz about your film for it to become famous enough to be hailed as a ‘possible contender’.
The Shortlist Isn’t the Finish Line
To be clear: Homebound falling short of a nomination isn’t proof that it wasn’t worthy. Shortlisting itself is no small achievement, and it suggests that the film received some consideration.
Now, getting an Oscar is definitely not the ultimate glory. Veteran filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard famously rejected an Oscar, remember? However, for a country still reeling from the effects of colonization and suffering, consequently, from impostor syndrome as a “third world country”, Oscars are a huge deal. Not to mention, an Oscar nomination gives the film significant leverage and lasting worldwide publicity.
But the real story isn’t just that India “lost again.” It’s the question of why we keep entering a race whose rules aren’t what we assume them to be.
Because the Oscars are a reputation. And reputation matters. For the average audience and filmmaker, the Oscars are not just awards; they are an industry — a coveted one, at that.
For decades, audiences (and even filmmakers) have held on to a romantic idea that the Oscars are where the best film wins because it is the best film. Sure, sometimes brilliance does rise above the marketing noise.
But increasingly, that noise is the point.
Oscar campaigns today are what election campaigns are to politics — necessary, relentless, expensive, and meticulously constructed. They rely on maintaining visibility for months and build through press, screenings, “For Your Consideration” pushes, strategic positioning, and carefully shaped narratives about why the film matters.
This isn’t a cynical outsider’s theory. It’s being discussed openly, including in the Indian media. In “The Times of India,” the cost and complexity of campaigning for the Oscars were discussed, with not just filmmaking but also screening. While voices from across the industry came up, filmmakers unanimously agreed that Oscar campaigning is a complex business that few outside the industry even know about, let alone understand. Yes, the films have to resonate with the judges. Still, the production house has to invest money in arranging expensive screenings and publicized interviews, even when their films have an online presence.
If you want a mainstream American anchor to support the argument that Oscar campaigns demand not only cinematic excellence but also sustained spending, this is it. After all, the Oscars are an American award show, and one has to understand what works there. This might be where Indian movies fall short.
And this reality is echoed in broader industry discussions as well. “Forbes India,” for instance, has explored the costs and requirements of Oscar campaigns, reinforcing the idea that merit alone is rarely enough in the current awards scenario. In a world where attention is a currency in itself, like everything else, it’s about buying the chance to be seen, spoken about, and remembered, so that your film can become part of the Academy conversation.
When Marketing Costs More Than Filmmaking
If you want a single example that captures how absurd the economics of award-season campaigning have become, look at the 2025 Best Picture Winner, Anora.
Reportedly, Anora spent $18 million on marketing, three times its production budget. Before its win, not many in the Awards circuit had even heard of the film. Yet it won big and rightfully so. But clearly, the subject matter is not the sole reason behind its win. A marketing budget of that kind reframes what “winning” even means. What does a country like India do with that information?
We can’t keep telling ourselves that we are losing because our films aren’t good enough. Nor can we keep blaming the Academy, as if we’re powerless outsiders watching a gated ceremony from across the ocean. If a campaign can cost more than the film itself, then Oscar glory becomes, at least partially, a luxury. This truth is more layered and more damning.
The Home Audience Problem No One Wants to Admit
There’s another layer to this complex situation. While we imagine the Oscars as the ultimate stamp of quality, many films are still struggling to draw audiences to theaters back home. This becomes an impossible situation.
The Oscars require significant spending to ensure the film remains visible to Academy voters. Sadly, the Indian theatrical ecosystem, especially for certain kinds of cinema, often fails to offer long runs, wide screens, or enough showtimes across the Indian subcontinent. So there is little opportunity for a film to start the conversation or make enough to pay to be in it.
Homebound, directed by Neeraj Ghaywan, is a soulful story of friendships, power, dignity, and the ruthless caste system prevalent in India. Two childhood friends dream of becoming police officers, a dream denied by their social status and place in the caste hierarchy. It’s heartwarming, painful, yet stoic and resilient. Audiences who watched it in sparsely populated theaters said the film could reduce even a stone-hearted person to tears. The film was also pretty big on OTT, thanks to its selection in the ‘Un Certain Regard’ at the 78th Cannes Film Festival.
But its box office performance was poor. Despite such critical acclaim, Homebound hardly grossed ₹5.60 Crore ($6,458) at the box office.
The result is tragic and ironic. Films meant to represent India on the world stage sometimes can’t find sustained love in India. And if your film is already fighting for survival in its own territory, how do you justify spending millions abroad?
Indian filmmakers do not lack ambition, but the financial model is more like a gamble when Indian box office returns remain uncertain. It’s like being expected to fund a global election campaign while your own city won’t even put up your posters.
The Special Case of All We Imagine As Light
This is also why the conversation around All We Imagine As Light (2024) feels so poignant. It didn’t need to “prove” itself. It had already done what very few Indian films have in recent decades: it became a global event.
Payal Kapadia’s film won the Grand Prix at Cannes, one of the festival’s highest honors. Cannes isn’t just a festival win; it is a kind of cultural passport. It builds critical consensus and prestige by telling people, “This film is important cinema.”
And yet, independent films like Kapadia’s often exist in India like rare birds, admired from a distance, but not always supported. Kapadia herself has spoken about how independent cinema in India struggles, including with institutional backing. Notably, the Film Federation of India did not submit the film to the Oscars 2025 and instead chose Laapata Ladies, which the Academy didn’t even shortlist.
Again, this is not about the film’s subject matter or its critical vs. commercial value. It’s about strategic placement. If India wants to compete seriously at the Oscars, films like All We Imagine As Light aren’t just “good choices.” They are strategically stronger because they already arrive with international acclaim, critics’ endorsements, and global conversation.
The Uncomfortable Answers
India’s Oscar conversation often gets stuck in one-track explanations: politics, bias, western gaze, or “they don’t understand our storytelling.”
Some of that may be true in fragments, but it’s not the full picture.
The Oscars reward visibility, not just quality. Visibility is maintained through sustained campaigning, which is an expensive affair because campaigning is easier with experienced distributors, studios, and PR professionals. Indian films chosen for submission don’t always have the necessary infrastructure. And, even at home, “critically acclaimed” films struggle for attention in a market dominated by grandiosity.
Are the Oscars a Lost Cause for Indian Cinema?
No, of course not. But we have to change the direction.
If the price of participation keeps rising, the Oscars begin to resemble a club whose membership is secured by budget. And if filmmakers are expected to spend huge amounts of money to market their films for awards attention, then the question isn’t “Why doesn’t India win?” but “Why should India keep trying under these terms?”
At some point, the dream stops being aspirational and starts being extractive.
India does not lack cinema worth celebrating. India lacks a global support system that awards meritocracy over buzz. And until that changes, we will keep reliving this cycle — a good film, a hopeful submission, a shortlist that feels like victory, and then poof, the dream is gone again.
The way the Oscars work today reveals not just what type of cinema is valued, but what type can afford to be visible. Visibility is the buzz.
So, maybe, the first step isn’t winning the Oscar, but building the kind of ecosystem where our best films are never made to fight alone. The Oscars may be expensive, but India’s cinema is powerful and brilliant enough to keep trying. At the end of the day, the Oscars are an award show.
Essay Courtey of Neha Jha
Feature Image from India Oscar Submission ‘Homebound’ (2025) | Credit to Dharma Productions