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Right up until the moment that Warren Beatty sandbagged his old Bonnie & Clyde co-star Faye Dunaway and had her erroneously read “La La Land” as the Best Picture winner of 2016, the two most surprised looks that Best Picture presenters have ever had at the Oscars were 1) when Jack Nicholson practically double-taked at seeing “Crash” on his envelope, and 2) when Harrison Ford had to glumly admit that his pal Steven Spielberg lost the 1998 Best Picture award to a bunch of frilly-dressed Elizabethans in Shakespeare in Love.

Ever since that moment, Shakespeare in Love has been a dark shibboleth in Oscar circles. Shorthand for the ways that the Academy voters bend to campaigning and opt for safe, costumey mediocrity over the hard-nosed, gritty realness of a Steven Spielberg movie about World War II. It’s been a reputation that the John Madden-directed film has found dismayingly difficult to shake. Part of that has nothing to do with the film, nor Madden, nor screenwriter/playwright Tom Stoppard, nor stars Gwyneth Paltrow, Judi Dench (both of whom won acting Oscars), Joseph Fiennes, or Geoffrey Rush. It doesn’t even have anything to do with Ben Affleck’s hammily irrepressible Americanness being all wrong for the film. It mostly has to do with how aggressively and unpleasantly Harvey Weinstein campaigned this film from his perch as head of Miramax. Unless you were already very much onboard with what Shakespeare in Love was giving you — and more on that in a moment — it was very hard not to get turned off to the whole affair by Harvey’s awards-grubbing. Even after Miramax took home Best Picture just two years earlier with The English Patient, Harvey needed to score an Oscar with his name on it. He needed to take center stage with a trophy in his hand.

Now that we’re well beyond Harvey Weinstein even being a divisive figure (seriously, who is taking that “pro” argument), it’s long past time we evaluated Shakespeare in Love on its own merits. And what better occasion to do that than on its 20th anniversary. Released in December, just in time to take the Oscar voting by storm, Shakespeare in Love was an instant critical hit. And, yes, it was all the things that hifalutin critics love in a comedy; it was literary and costumey and full of very accomplished actors like Judi Dench and Geoffrey Rush. This wasn’t — to use the example of one particularly popular mainstream comedy that same year — Cameron Diaz slicking her hair back with jizz in There’s Something About Mary. This was Gwyneth Paltrow, Hollywood royalty, serving as the inspiration for Shakespeare’s Juliet.

Here’s the thing that Shakespeare in Love never gets enough credit for, though: it’s genuinely very funny. This isn’t a comedy in name only. While not broad comedy, this is definitely a movie whose major motivation is to get the audience to laugh and cheer and swoon and thrill and generally have an exuberant good time. This is a movie that is as proud of its comedic identity as it is of its literary identity.

Also, while everybody was busy defending Steven Spielberg’s award-winning honor — let’s be clear: Saving Private Ryan is an excellent film that would have made a flawless Best Picture winner, but Spielberg had won Best Picture not five years earlier for Schindler’s List, and just earlier that night he’d taken the Best Director award, so let’s maybe cool it on the mournful sonnets for the overlooked Saving Private Ryan — nobody seemed to notice the utter rarity of a comedy prevailing in the Oscars’ top category. The Academy’s arm’s-length treatment of comedies in the Best Picture field has long been a topic of consternation. On average, one genuine comedy wins the Best Picture award every decade. Annie Hall had the ’70s nailed down, Terms of Endearment had squared away the ’80s, and now Shakespeare in Love would handle the ’90s. (The 2000s had Chicago as a musical to run interference in the ’00s, while we’ll have to settle for The Artist as the ’10s representative.)

Far more often, it would be an acclaimed comedy falling to a more traditional dramatic rival. Tootsie losing to Gandhi in 1982; Broadcast News falling to The Last Emperor in 1987; Babe and Fargo losing in back-to-back years to Braveheart and The English Patient. The win for Shakespeare in Love might have shown how much extra muscle in takes to push a comedy over the finish line ahead of a stately war drama directed by America’s most beloved filmmaker and starring America’s Dad, of all people. But in winning, the Academy, for once, was saying that sometimes a light touch can be just as cinematic as the dogs of war.

Another bit of Oscar trivia worth noting: Shakespeare in Love‘s win came during a welcome oasis in the late ’90s where Best Picture winners featured strong leading actresses. The English Patient in ’96, Titanic in ’97, Shakespeare in ’98, and American Beauty in ’99 marked the ONLY four-year stretch in Oscar history where the Best Picture winner featured a corresponding Best Actress nominee. To put that in context, it’s only happened three times in the 18 years since American Beauty.

That Shakespeare in Love still gets dismissed out of hand is borderline offensive? Also, just watch it! Whatever you think of Gwyneth Paltrow and GOOP, look at how she plays that scene where she first steps out on that stage; all the fear and exhilaration and triumph she never thought she’d get. Or the manic romance of Viola and Will’s gondola ride. Or the barnstorming delight of Judi Dench’s borderline cameo that won her Best Supporting Actress. The pure pleasure of watching her dunk on Lord Wessex:

It’s been 20 years since this rather unlikely costume comedy bested the American war epic for Best Picture. Rather than continuing to pile on for specious reasons — or even good, Harvey-related reasons that still don’t have much to do with the film — maybe take a break and, however briefly, celebrate the rare moment where Oscar took lightness and comedy and women seriously enough to hand them the top prize. And read your GOOp newsletter while you’re at it, at least that’s funny too.

Where to stream Shakespeare in Love