How Denzel Washington's First Oscar Nomination Led To A Legendary Meme

Early in his career, Denzel Washington received some crucial advice from Sidney Poitier, the gist of which was that, as a young Black actor attempting to make his mark in the early 1980s, Hollywood would only give him three or four roles before passing judgment on his value as performer. There weren't many non-comedic Black stars to begin with at the time (especially with the then 50-something Poitier in the midst of a lengthy on-screen hiatus that lasted from 1977's "A Piece of the Action" to 1988's "Shoot to Kill"), so Washington's margin of error must've felt particularly slim, regardless of his undeniable talent.

He took the message to heart. There was a lot working against him in the white-dominated industry. And even if he "made it," the paucity of opportunities meant the competition to remain a prominent actor would always be fierce.

After the commercial and critical failure of his debut feature, "Carbon Copy," Washington found his salvation in the celebrated 1982 off-Broadway production of "A Soldier's Play," which was adapted to film in 1984 as "A Soldier's Story." Both versions allowed him to pop up here and there in a supporting role, prompting directors and casting agents to pursue him for whatever significant parts were out there for young Black actors who weren't trying to be the next Eddie Murphy.

Three years later, Washington's incandescent presence intermittently set Richard Attenborough's "Cry Freedom" ablaze. As the South African anti-Apartheid activist Stephen Biko, who was beaten to death by law enforcement officers in 1977, Washington's movie star charisma effortlessly intermingled with the fiery indignation that would power some of his finest performances. His turn earned him his first Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor – a massive career boost, to be sure, but Washington knew better than to gloat. Until the industry's power structure changed, he was always going to be one or two bum movies away from obscurity.

So, when Washington realized during the Oscar ceremony he wasn't going to win, the unapologetically brash actor made damn sure he left the event with something. In doing so, he planted the seed for one of the most delightful DGAF memes on the internet.

There are several reasons the Academy Awards broadcast's Nielsen ratings have declined over the years, but I've long thought one reason more and more people keep tuning out is that, oftentimes, everyone knows who's going to win. The run of guild awards leading up to the Oscars, combined nowadays with insight from the awards journalists who actually do talk to voters, generally give viewers a sense who's destined to take home the hardware.

There are exceptions, but the 1988 ceremony was not one of them. Every major award had a prohibitive favorite: Best Picture and Director were going to "The Last Emperor," Best Actor to Michael Douglas for "Wall Street," Best Actress and Supporting Actress to Cher and Olympia Dukakis respectively for "Moonstruck," and Best Supporting Actor to Sean Connery for "The Untouchables."

If Washington didn't know for certain he was a pre-determined also-ran walking into the Oscars that night (a possibility in the same way a baseball pitcher sometimes doesn't know they're throwing a no-hitter until late in the game), he figured it out early in the evening.

In a wildly entertaining 2018 interview with Jamie Foxx (which you can currently watch on YouTube), Washington told his fellow Oscar-winning colleague (Foxx won Best Actor in 2004 for "Ray") that the audience tipped him off. Per Washington:

"Connery comes out to present an award, and he got a three-minute sanding ovation. For presenting an award. I went to get the coats. I went over to get the coats 'cause I know I ain't winning tonight."

Washington would get his Best Supporting Actor Oscar two years later for "Glory," but on this night he was going home empty-handed –- and this didn't sit well with him at all. So he did something about it.

Before the Oscars found a permanent home at the Dolby Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue, they were typically held further south at the Shrine Auditorium. As Washington was leaving with his family, he noticed that preparations were underway in an adjacent room for the post-ceremony Governor's Ball. And this was when he resolved that he would be leaving with a souvenir of his first –- and, who knew at the time, potentially his last –- Oscar nomination. (Thank god it wasn't.)

I'll let Washington tell the story (which you've almost certainly seen excerpted all over social media):

"So, no, we're leaving. I'm leaving without the Oscar, right? But as I'm leaving I see the back where they're [...] getting the meal ready, the food ready for the Governor's Ball. I see a big tray. I'm like, 'I'm leaving here with something.' Know what I mean? I'm from around the way. I'm leaving with something. Then my mother told me to get the flower arrangement. It's a true story."

If it hasn't become customary for Oscar losers to swipe something from the Governor's Ball since Washington gave this interview, I'd be very disappointed. Forget that "It's an honor just to be nominated" nonsense. Those ceremonies are long. At least you can drink at the Golden Globes. At the Oscars, you've got to sit through not just awards, but special segments concocted to entertain folks watching at home –- most of which fall flat with their intended audience anyway.

There are worse ways to spend an evening, but put yourself in Washington's shoes, especially in 1988. The cards were stacked against him in numerous ways. He couldn't be a romantic lead because Hollywood wasn't making Black actor-led romances (and they weren't too hot on mixed-race couplings either). How many Bikos were out there for him? So to hell with it. Snag that floral arrangement and pop that champagne bottle you've got chilling at home. Because you did them the honor of showing up.