On March 4, 2018, “Get Out” won an Oscar. This was an enormous victory. Writer/director Jordan Peele walked away with the golden statue for Best Original Screenplay, awarding his work on a horror movie, a genre oft-ignored by the Academy. Plus, Oscar voters are even less likely to hand out trophies to financially successful, popular works. On the contrary – the Academy usually rewards stuff that’s designed to win Oscars, and “Get Out” was anything but. And yet, the year before, indie darling (and genuinely great movie) “Moonlight” won Best Picture. It looked as though the Academy was evolving.

Then last Tuesday morning, “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Green Book” scored Best Picture nominations. That’s … bad.

First, it’s worth reiterating that awards shows don’t matter all that much. A good movie will be good regardless of its Oscar recognition, and it’s impossible for the Academy to reward everything with merit that came out in 2018. That said, it still stung when the likes of “Hereditary,” “Widows,” “Burning,” “Eighth Grade” and “You Were Never Really Here” were shut-out. The Oscars do have the power to give smaller movies a spotlight they wouldn’t normally receive. How many more people heard about “Moonlight” thanks to the envelope fiasco two-years ago?

And credit where credit is due: the Academy made a few quality picks. My favorite of the year, “Roma,” scored a whopping 10 nominations (as did “The Favourite,” another solid choice). Pawel Pawlikowski snuck into the Best Director field, making it the most interesting race, however, the Academy again failed to nominated any women. Finally, “Black Panther”scored a Best Picture nom, which it absolutely deserves. Things could be worse.

But. The Academy picked “Bohemian Rhapsody” in multiple major categories. They weren’t the first: after taking home a truckload of money at the box office, the Queen biopic won big at the Golden Globes for Best Actor in a Drama and Best Picture (Drama). So what’s the problem? Well, first of all, the movie isn’t that good. It’s a by-the-numbers biopic, packed with every cliché in the book. The film spends more time on Freddie Mercury’s relationship with his microphone than the start of his relationship with his bandmates—bandmates who come off entirely positively because they helped produce the biopic. Generally, “Bo Rhap” is more concerned with staging lavish recreations of Queen performances than saying anything about Mercury or his legacy (and don’t forget the bad editing).

Fellow nominees “Vice” and even “A Star is Born” suffer from similar problems. But neither of those movies were directed by a noted pedophile.

Enter Bryan Singer. Singer has had a long and successful career, breaking onto the scene with the “Usual Suspects” (1996), and then directing the first two “X-Men” movies. He went on to direct the movie where Tom Cruise tries to kill Hitler, and then a few more X-Men entries. Singer was hired by Fox to direct “Bohemian Rhapsody” in 2016, after numerous allegations of sexual assault and misconduct had swirled around the director for years. As far back as April 2014, Singer was charged in a civil lawsuit that alleged he’d flown then-minor Michael F. Egan to Hawaii in 1999 and sexually assaulted him.

The most damning collection of evidence against Singer was published in “The Atlantic” last Wednesday, a long-gestating piece of journalism that cites over fifty sources. The story paints a sickening picture: as the article puts it, “The accusations against Singer cover a spectrum. Some of the alleged victims say they were seduced by the director while underage; others say they were raped. The victims we interviewed told us these experiences left them psychologically damaged, with substance-abuse problems, depression, and PTSD.” Furthermore, “the portrait of Singer that emerges is of a troubled man who surrounded himself with vulnerable teenage boys, many of them estranged from their families.”

Singer is currently being sued by multiple accusers. He’s also attached to direct another comic book adaptation (for a healthy paycheck, of course).

Singer was fired from “Bohemian Rhapsody” a few weeks into production—not due to the allegations around him, but because the guy wasn’t even showing up to set. However, due to directors’ guild regulations, he’s still credited (in other words, when you watch “Bohemian Rhapsody,” you see “Directed by Bryan Singer”). He’s still taking credit for “Rhapsody’s” box office/awards victories on his social media. Oh, and then news broke that Singer stands to make a whopping 40 million dollars from the film.

I didn’t expect general audiences to be painfully aware of Singer or to boycott “Bohemian Rhapsody.” But I expect more from the industry itself. Hollywood—in the midst of the same reckoning that finally exorcised Harvey Weinstein—should not be rewarding a work directed by Singer. They know, and to hand him movie trophies is irresponsible and wrong.

The same business that fired James Gunn for old, irrelevant tweets hasn’t cut ties with a serial sexual predator. Hypocrisy, thy name is Hollywood.

Now, I love Rami Malek (“Mr. Robot”) as much as anyone, and his performance as Freddie Mercury is one of the few bright spots in an uninspired work. But “Bohemian Rhapsody” refuses to explore Mercury’s sexuality—it’s pushed to the periphery of the narrative whenever possible. Furthermore, when asked about his knowledge of the Singer situation, Malek told the “L.A. Times,” “I didn’t know much about Bryan. I think that the allegations and things were, believe it or not, honestly something I was not aware of, and that is what it is.”

There’s no way Malek was entirely ignorant of Singer’s reputation—I knew about the stories around Singer when I was fifteen, and Malek was cast in November 2016. Malek has said in interviews that the first scene shot of “Bohemian Rhapsody” was the climactic recreation of Queen’s Live-Aid performance—meaning Singer created the triumphant moment of the movie. Actors don’t direct themselves. All of this is to say that I’ve never wanted an actor I like to win an award less than I want Rami to take home the Best Actor statue come March.

The subtly racist “Green Book” shares some similar problems behind-the-camera. Let’s start with director Peter Farrelly, who made his name directing nineties comedies. Speaking of sexual misconduct, Farrelly recently apologized for flashing his penis at unsuspecting coworkers, a “prank” he used to pull back when he was making stuff like “Dumb and Dumber” and “There’s Something About Mary.” Farrelly’s actions were reported in a “Newsweek” article back in 1998, and his career continued unaffected.

The same day the Farrelly article resurfaced, an old tweet from co-writer Nick Vallelonga emerged as well—in which Vallelonga expressed his agreement with then-candidate Donald Trump’s assertion that “Muslims in Jersey City [were] cheering when towers went down.” Now, Vallelonga’s perpetuation of this racist and disproven claim is all the more disheartening when you consider actor Mahershala Ali—who plays musician Don Shirley, the co-lead in “Green Book”—is Muslim.

Nick Vallelonga is also the son of Tony Vallelonga, the protagonist of “Green Book.” The film chronicles the friendship between Vallelonga and Shirley, as the former drives the latter on a concert tour throughout the Deep South in the early sixties. The film establishes that Tony (Viggo Mortensen) is pretty racist at the start of the story: he throws away glasses used by plumbers (who are people of color) in the first five minutes. But we’re led to believe that he’s changed, and learned the error of his ways by the end—thanks to his interactions with Shirley. It is, in effect, the anti-“Get Out,” a film about, written and directed by white people, in order to make them feel better about race.

Had “Green Book” instead centered on Shirley, it could have been an impressive, engaging story of a man juggling personas against the backdrop of a racist society. Instead, we’re forced to endure two hours with Mortenson, who turns in a cartoonish performance. Eighty percent of his time on screen is devoted to shots of Tony eating (including an essential hot dog contest subplot), which isn’t quite as bad as the scenes in which Vallelonga introduces Shirley to “his” culture. The film never wonders or posits Tony’s prejudices are in any way insidious or part of a broader system of oppression – he’s totally removed from the “real” racists the pair face on their journey south.

That Mortenson shouldn’t have been nominated is obvious, though I can somewhat understand the Academy’s appreciation of Ali here. The only person of color on screen, Ali does the best with what he’s given, and he’s far from bad. But, like “Bohemian Rhapsody,” “Green Book” does everything it can to minimize the sexuality of its subject: Shirley’s queerness is alluded to only once. Worse, the film presents Shirley’s imperfections as somehow equal to Vallelonga’s flaws—and posits that only though the power of interracial friendship can these issues be addressed. I shouldn’t need to point out that a gifted musician doesn’t need to buddy up with a racist to become a better person.

Then there’s the scene in which Vallelonga and Shirley are stopped by a police officer. The two pause, scared, and assume the cop is going to harass them, only for the officer to be entirely kind and helpful. Vallelonga and Shirley laugh, embarrassed. The message is clear: don’t make assumptions about people! But police brutality isn’t about a couple bad apples—it’s an extension of an oppressive, white supremacist system. Pretending otherwise is dishonest and ignorant. Oh yeah, and that non-racist cop is played by Brian Hayes Currie, the third writer (after Farrelly and Vallelonga) of “Green Book.”

Finally, it should be noted that the family of Shirley has said that the film is “full of lies,” with Shirley’s niece saying that “there was no due diligence done to afford my family and my deceased uncle the respect of properly representing him, his legacy, his worth and the excellence in which he operated and the excellence in which he lived.” She’s describing a movie nominated for Best Original Screenplay, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor and Best Picture.

Freddie Mercury and Dr. Shirley deserve movies about their lives, movies that understand the struggles both endured. Neither of their biopics do anyone justice. But the further failure falls on the Academy. So much better stuff came out in 2018. There’s also a swamp of reasons not to praise or put eyes on “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Green Book.” It’s not that the Academy needs to be right all the time, but these two films represent an obvious error in judgment.

Maybe a large contingent of the voting base just doesn’t care. What else could explain these baffling nominations? Chances are, if you’ve made it to the end of this long, extensive piece, you have more invested in the Academy’s choices than the Academy itself. That’s kind of depressing. If the voters don’t care, should we? The Oscars are currently fighting a losing battle to maintain relevance. Perhaps we should hope they lose—there has to be a better way for deserving, small movies to get eyes on them, that doesn’t involve “Green Book” or “Bohemian Rhapsody” becoming award winners.