Notes on the Oscars

It was the best of shows, it was the worst of the shows. What exactly does that mean? With regards to the second clause, I mean this sincerely: It was probably the worst (or at least the most boring) Academy Awards ceremony I have ever seen. Granted, I've only seen eleven (or more accurately, ten and a half, as I was boarding a plane halfway through the 2011 Oscars. If you can't remember exactly what happened at that year's ceremony, think Anne Hatheway and James Franco; and if there was ever a disastrous show to miss, that was it). But this most recent show was pathetically, terribly unfunny. I require laughter during the Oscars, and hosts of the past, particularly Steve Martin and, to a lesser extent, Billy Crystal, have really succeeded. Someone who also succeeded was Ellen Degeneres, the hysterical host from 2007. Her sweet jabs and humble demeanor were terrific back then; this time, there wasn't a single moment that provoked laughter from me--not even a Dick Cheneyesque smirk.

Ellen's running gag about ordering pizza for celebrities (what a tremendous and awe-inspiring work of comedy it was) was essentially the "Oprah-Uma" of the show. It was dreadful to watch Ellen hand out some plates and ask, "Who wants pizza?" (When watching the Jimmy Kimmel post-Oscars show, especially the absurdist comedy of cats called "Ameowadeus," it's a wonder why Kimmel wasn't picked instead.) The best moments didn't involve Ellen or pizza; they were simply one-liners: Bill Murray's unscripted tribute to his recently deceased friend Harold Ramis, and Kevin Spacey presenting himself as a certain Machiavellian Southern politician. Appearing after Darlene Love gave probably one of the most awesome acceptance speeches in history, loudly singing "I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free," Spacey, with that Frank Underwood drawl, claimed, "And I sing because I'm so happy to be out of Washington and here with all my Hollywood friends," to the audience's great approval.

It should be noted that this was a year in which the speeches were surprisingly interesting to listen to. and not a single one of them was cut off). Matthew McConaughey gave a fine speech, thanking God (a rarity at the Oscars) and proudly claiming that it is a "scientific fact that gratitude reciprocates." Chris Mooney at Mother Jones backs him up: "What's the payoff of feeling grateful, of 'paying it forward,' and of helping out those who help you? The research suggests more hope and optimism, a better ability to manage stress, a tendency to exercise more and even sleeping better." Despite that and the fact that he ended his speech by uttering his famous "alright, alright, alright" line from "Dazed and Confused," the New Yorker gave his speech a C. After annoying (to say the least) many with his sophomoric speeches at other shows, Jared Leto got it right this time in a heartfelt speech paying tribute to everyone from his mother to the protesters in Venezuela and Ukraine. Lupita Nyong'o's speech, in which she not only humbly recognized that her joy was because of someone else's pain but also where she firmly declared that no child's dreams are invalid, was delightful. So, too, was Cate Blanchett, winning for "Blue Jasmine," when she criticized "those of us in the industry who are foolishly clinging to the idea that female films, with women in the center, are niche experiments. They are not. Audiences want to see them, and in fact, they earn money." Her shouting that "the world is round, people!" could barely be heard over the applause.

There were other moments that might qualify for being decent. Amy, Meryl and Lupita danced, so well and spontaneous that one almost wonders if it was rehearsed ahead of time. John Travolta infamously (and bizarrely) pronounced Idina Menzel as "Adele Dazeem" (to which Menzel went to Twitter and thanked "Jorn Tromolto"), and now you can go to Slate to "Travoltify" your name. (For the record, I'm Craig Keezy.) For a while, it seemed everyone--including me (a bit)--picked on Hollywood legend Kim Novak, until we were shamed by the Siren's powerful defense:

"So let's say--just as a hypothetical for-instance--that you are an 81-year-old star whose last movie was in 1991 and who hasn't been to the Oscars in many a long year...As the evening approaches, the anxiety sets in. Harsh lights, you think. High-definition cameras. And a public that remembers you chiefly as the ice goddess whose beauty once drove James Stewart to the brink of madness. And even back then, when you were 25 years old, you worried constantly that no matter how you looked, it wasn't good enough. So a few weeks before the ceremony, you go to a doctor, and he says, 'Relax, honey. I have just the thing to make you fresh and dewy for the cameras.' And you go to the Oscars, so nervous you clutch your fellow presenter's hand. And the next day, you wake up to a bunch of cheap goddamn shots about your face. Nice system we got here, isn't it."  

Anyway, with such a dismal performance by Degeneres, the pathetically dull and pointless musical performances, and the fact that the flip-side of getting all but three predictions correct is that it made for a fairly boring show, the 2014 Academy Awards likely will not be fondly remembered. It was mostly the worst of shows.


Finally, poor Leo.