rigorous production, curious rules, and whether it can be sold

Just days away from the Oscars, set for this Sunday, March 2, Brazil is buzzing with the possibility of seeing Fernanda Torres and the film I’m Still Here take home the iconic golden statuette. Directed by Walter Salles, the movie is competing in three categories: Best Picture, Best International Feature Film, and Best Actress, reigniting hopes for an unprecedented win for Brazilian cinema. As anticipation builds, the statuette itself, the ultimate symbol of prestige in Hollywood, holds a fascinating story—from its meticulous production process to the rules restricting its sale—sparking curiosity about the “golden man” that once served as a doorstop in Gwyneth Paltrow’s home.

The object, coveted by artists worldwide, is far more than a mere trophy. Crafted from solid bronze and plated with 24-karat gold, it undergoes a blend of artisanal and technological processes starting months before the ceremony, ensuring each of the roughly 50 statuettes handed out that night is flawless. Produced in New York, the creation involves 3D printers and traditional techniques, yielding a 33-centimeter, 4-kilogram piece that carries a symbolic value far exceeding its estimated production cost of $500 to $900.

Beyond the glamour, strict rules govern the award. It’s not possible to sell the Oscar statuette freely, a restriction enforced by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to preserve its meaning. With Brazil in the spotlight after 26 years since its last major nominations with Central Station in 1999, attention turns not only to the talents of Fernanda Torres and Walter Salles but also to the quirks that make the Oscar a singular icon in the cinematic world.

Origin of the trophy: how the “golden man” came to be

The creation of the Oscar statuette dates back to the award’s early days, when Hollywood was still cementing its global influence. In 1928, Cedric Gibbons, then art director at MGM, sketched a knight holding a sword atop a film reel—an idea that captured the grandeur of cinema in its infancy. Gibbons, a talented Irishman who would rack up 11 wins and 39 nominations over his career, envisioned a symbol uniting art and technique, core tenets of the film industry at the time.

Bringing Gibbons’ sketch to life fell to George Stanley, an American sculptor renowned for other notable works, like the statue of Isaac Newton at the Griffith Observatory in California. Stanley crafted the statuette in 1929, the year of the first ceremony on May 16, which honored just 15 recipients in a far more modest affair than today’s extravaganza. Since then, the “golden man” has become synonymous with excellence, though its production and significance have evolved over decades while retaining the original essence conceived by its creators.

The name “Oscar” carries a touch of informality. Though its exact origin is debated, a popular tale credits Margaret Herrick, a former Academy director, who reportedly said the statuette reminded her of her Uncle Oscar. Officially adopted in 1939, the moniker caught on with the public, humanizing the award and turning it into an icon recognizable even to casual observers of cinema.

Production details: from 3D printer to gold plating

Making an Oscar statuette is a process that demands precision and patience, kicking off well before the gala night. At Polich Tallix Fine Art Foundry in New York, production begins in January, with initial versions crafted using 3D printers. These machines create wax molds that form the basis for the next step: building shells of silicone and silica sand, which protect the shape as molten bronze is poured in, melting away the wax in the furnace’s heat.

Once cooled, the bronze statuettes undergo meticulous hand-finishing, with polishing and adjustments to smooth out imperfections. The final flourish occurs at Epner Technology, also in New York, where each piece is plated with 24-karat gold, giving it that signature shine. The result is a sturdy 4-kilogram statuette, resilient enough to endure time and the grasp of ecstatic winners—or, in quirky cases, serve as a doorstop, as Gwyneth Paltrow did after beating Fernanda Montenegro in 1999.

The process isn’t just technical—it’s symbolic. During World War II, metal shortages forced the Academy to swap bronze for painted plaster, a temporary fix that lasted until the war’s end. Post-war, recipients could exchange their makeshift versions for the standard ones, upholding the trophy’s integrity. Today, a mix of modern tech and traditional craftsmanship ensures each Oscar is a unique piece, ready to immortalize cinematic triumphs.

Design symbolism: what the statuette stands for

A closer look at the statuette reveals more than just a golden figure. Designed by Cedric Gibbons, it depicts a crusader knight wielding a sword, standing atop a film reel with five spokes radiating from it. These spokes aren’t mere decoration: they represent the original five Oscar categories—directing, acting, producing, technical work, and writing—foundations that propped up the awards in their early years and still echo the core of filmmaking today.

The knight figure evokes strength and resolve, traits tied to medieval crusaders but reframed in cinema as a creative struggle. The downward-pointing sword hints at victory and achievement, while the film reel ties the trophy directly to the seventh art. At 33 centimeters tall, the statuette is compact enough to hold easily yet commanding enough to bear its weighty significance, both for winners and the audience tuning into the ceremony.

This symbolism hits home in years like this, with I’m Still Here in contention. Walter Salles’ film, tackling resistance during Brazil’s military dictatorship, weaves a tale of struggle and resilience that mirrors the values embodied by the “golden man.” If Fernanda Torres hoists the statuette, it’ll be a moment where the Oscar’s design and history align with the power of a character like Eunice Paiva, brought to life by the actress.

Curious rules: can you sell an Oscar statuette?

Winning an Oscar marks a career pinnacle for many artists, but the trophy comes with unusual caveats. It’s not possible to sell the Oscar statuette freely, as the Academy forbids its open sale to safeguard its symbolic worth. If a winner wants to part with it, they must first offer it back to the organization for just $1—roughly R$5.80 at current rates—a trivial sum compared to the prestige it holds.

This rule stems from the Academy’s drive to keep the Oscar an artistic honor, not a tradable good. Though production costs range from $500 to $900, its value on the black market or at auctions could soar into tens of thousands, especially if tied to iconic names. Illegal sales have happened—like a 1942 Oscar auctioned in 2011—but the Academy has pursued legal action to reclaim trophies sold outside its rules, reinforcing the ban.

For Brazilians, this quirk takes on added meaning with Fernanda Torres in the running. Should she win, the statuette can’t be sold but would stand as a national treasure, potentially marking the first time a Brazilian production claims such high-profile categories since Central Station. The no-sale rule, though strict, underscores the award’s exclusivity, ensuring it remains a badge of glory, not a marketplace item.

Production timeline: how the Oscar reaches winners’ hands

The Oscar statuette’s journey to the awards night follows a tight schedule. It all starts in January, about two months before the ceremony, when Polich Tallix Fine Art Foundry begins production. Using 3D printers, the team crafts wax molds that are turned into bronze, undergoing heating, cooling, and polishing stages to reach their final form.

• January: Production kicks off with 3D-printed wax molds and silica shell construction.
• February: Bronze finishing and manual touch-ups wrap up, followed by gold plating at Epner Technology.
• March: The completed statuettes arrive at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles, just in time for the early-month ceremony.

This brisk timeline ensures the roughly 50 statuettes—one for each winner across the 23 main categories, with exceptions like Best Picture, which may have multiple recipients—are ready for the big night. For this Sunday’s Oscars, the process is complete, and Brazil waits to see if one will end up in the hands of Fernanda Torres or the I’m Still Here team.

Surprising Oscar trivia

The Oscar statuette has piled up tales and oddities over nearly a century, stretching beyond its creation. It’s seen changes, adaptations, and unexpected uses that cement its unique spot in pop culture. Some facts catch even the keenest awards fans off guard.

• Material swap: During World War II, bronze gave way to painted plaster due to metal shortages, with swaps offered post-war.
• Doorstop duty: Gwyneth Paltrow, who beat Fernanda Montenegro in 1999, used her Oscar as a doorstop, an unconventional twist.
• Symbolic value: Despite its cost, the Academy blocks free sales, pegging its return price at $1.
• First handover: In 1929, the ceremony lasted 15 minutes with 270 guests, a far cry from today’s televised spectacle.

These snippets show how the Oscar outstrips its material worth, becoming a cultural milestone. For Brazil, the chance of Fernanda Torres claiming one rekindles 1999 memories, when Fernanda Montenegro came close, while spotlighting Brazilian cinema’s growing global clout.

Brazil’s stake: what the statuette means in 2025

With I’m Still Here in the mix, this year’s Oscars carry extra weight for Brazilians. Walter Salles’ film, drawn from Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s book, dives into the military dictatorship and Eunice Paiva’s resilience, portrayed by Fernanda Torres, who nabbed a Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Drama. Its three nominations—Best Picture, Best International Feature Film, and Best Actress—mark a milestone, the first time a Brazilian film hits the top category, outdoing even City of God’s four nods in 2004.

Brazil’s Oscar presence signals a turning point for its cinema. Twenty-six years ago, Central Station, also by Salles, put Fernanda Montenegro in the Best Actress race, but the prize slipped away. Now, with Torres, Montenegro’s daughter, in contention, there’s a sense of continuity and redemption. A win would make her the second Brazilian nominated for acting and the first to take home the trophy, potentially inspiring a new wave of filmmakers and actors nationwide.

The ripple effects stretch beyond national pride. A victory could unlock more investment and global visibility, bolstering Brazil’s film industry, which has shown it can craft powerful stories on tight budgets—I’m Still Here cost about $1.35 million, a sliver of the $190 million spent on Dune: Part Two, another Best Picture contender. As Sunday nears, the excitement holds strong.

Ceremony buzz: Brazil takes center stage

With the 97th Oscars looming, Brazilian anticipation is palpable. The event at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles will beam live to millions, and for the first time in decades, the country has real shots at major categories. Fernanda Torres squares off against Demi Moore (The Substance), Mikey Madison (Anora), and Karla Sofía Gascón (Emilia Pérez), while I’m Still Here vies with heavyweights like Dune: Part Two and Wicked for Best Picture.

The film’s campaign has been robust, with U.S. screenings, social media buzz, and wins like Best Screenplay at Venice. Though Emilia Pérez leads with 13 nods, controversies around the French production might split votes, especially in Best International Feature Film, giving Brazil an edge. Experts note Salles’ film gains traction from its emotional heft and Torres’ lauded performance, praised worldwide.

Win or lose, Brazil’s already made history. I’m Still Here’s Best Picture nod is a first, and Torres’ finalist spot underscores national talent on a global stage. As the Dolby Theatre lights up, Brazilian eyes will be glued to screens, hoping to see the “golden man” cross the Atlantic at last.