The posh glitter of the Academy Awards begs for over-the-top, drama-laden mass-marketed nominees as desperately as the designer apparel begs for the crowning touch of star-studded jewels. Not only do we excuse the gaudy spectacle that is the Oscars, we revere it as a fitting tribute to its content, purpose and guests. After all, the caliber of the cinematic achievements in whose honor the gala is held is gauged by a sophisticated committee of movie connoisseurs, who will theoretically guide and critique our lay opinion. But all too often, the revered list of movie titles bestowed upon the humbled public by the committee's glamorized expert collaboration is strikingly similar to the less-respected, computer generated list of box office hits. Perhaps we've found the Academy's secret muse.

Like a cunning student who hands in a copied homework with sufficient personal touches to escape suspicion, the Academy filters public opinion before its hyped regurgitation. After removing the slap-stick teenage flicks and sappy romantic-comedies, the remaining epic-dramas and action-adventures -- most often characterized by their bloated budgets and star-studded casts -- are plucked off the box-office hit list and announced as the hand picked unbiased selection of any critic extraordinaire.

This year's nominees for best motion picture of the year -- "Chicago," "Gangs of New York," "Hours," "Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers" and "The Pianist" -- are, with the possible exception of the last, tributes to Oscar's cowering submission to the popular and the lucrative. Clearly the committee's puppeteer isn't the average Joe who buys a ten-dollar movie ticket, but the hot-shot movie studios that thrive on Oscar recognition.

While the successful filtration of silly feel-gooders and archetypal horror flicks maintains Oscar's dignified status, the constant omission of over-qualified movie gems weakens the Academy's authority and isolates the slightly less mainstream movie.

Last year, "Igby Goes Down," "Punch Drunk Love," "The Believer," "Tadpole" and "The Good Girl" upheld the evolution and eminence of American cinema. Although the splash they made on the indie movie scene hardly splattered a drop of fine filmmaking on Hollywood's boisterous churn of "movie magic," the public's ignorance of their existence is no excuse for their dismissal by the Academy. After the committee's careful inspection of cinematography, acting, direction and script, are we to believe that movies categorized as 'indie' only by the size of their budget and advertising media all coincidently didn't make the cut?

What upsets me is not Oscar's prioritization of red-carpet glamour and commercial flicks, but the Academy's pretension to be America's core movie analyst. For one, to nominate "Lord of the Rings" for anything more than set and makeup is an insult to the best-picture category and to the other nominees. Still, even those nominees have little to brag about. "Chicago" and "Hours," while both highly laudable achievements, thrive mostly on the lack of subtlety in content and presentation -- a quality conducive to spoon-fed audience entertainment and unfortunately, Oscar recognition.

Although movies like "Punch Drunk Love" may have been too far off the beaten path to prevail, "Igby Goes Down," "Tadpole" and "The Good Girl," which were unhindered by excessive originality and artiness, were held back only by the subtlety of their worth. Seemingly, movie critics who shy from slightly deeper and less glamorized content also fear assessing a film's cultural and philosophical merit, explaining why "The Believer" -- perhaps the most intriguing cinematic accomplishment in recent years -- was also overlooked.

As a movie enthusiast who maintains a modicum of respect for Hollywood standards, public opinion and the better judgment of America's most acclaimed committee of movie connoisseurs, I am sorry, albeit not surprised, to say that this year's nominees for best picture of the year have again provided for my annual disappointment. Granted, a show responsible for picking up the check for the year's most lavish soire and maintaining a nationwide viewer demographic is bound to cater to the mainstream. Still, the blatant disregard for a higher caliber of film of lower popularity and budget shows Hollywood's juiced-up muscle and further strengthens the bully's grip over an overly impressionable nation.