It’s no longer a wonder why the television ratings of the Academy Awards have been so low the past few years. This year’s annual telecast of Hollywood’s biggest night reached a new record of boredom. It wasn’t that the night didn’t have its moments, but those moments came few and far between; and even then those moments crossed between dragging and sharing.
The evening started out on a slow note with the famous Red Carpet dragging, in more ways than one. Introducing everyone from the Best Actress category all at once started off the evening of attention-deficit. No one person was given enough time to answer one a question, let alone focus on what they were saying. But what kept their time so short? It seemed as though the hosts were constantly looking for who was next (or who was better) rather than focusing on the talented celebrity before them.
The traditional tired question of “who are your wearing” even ran thin. Not one interviewee seemed to care whose design they were wearing, and many almost seemed annoyed that they had to stop and ask questions at all. It didn’t help that their interviewer didn’t pay them much attention, let alone respect. With eyes and heads constantly darting around like an addict searching for their next score, co-hosts Jess Cagle, Kathy Ireland and Sherri Shepherd were clearly there with one directive, “get as many celebrities as you can in a half-hour.” But this hectic motive didn’t translate into a positive, excited energy. Rather this energy clearly rubbed off on the stars and started the evening with an attitude of “no one cares”.
The drag of the red carpet flowed into the Kodak Theatre for the telecast as well. The evening began with a slow and oddly somber introduction, by name only, of each of the Best Actor/Actress nominees. While this did get every one of them up on stage, something most would not be repeating throughout the evening, it seemed to show no purpose and only conveyed a message of desperation and lack of a creative opening.
However, the show did have a creative opening, a song-and-dance number by the energetic Neil Patrick Harris. What was he doing there, besides poking fun at films, himself, and the celebrities in the crowd? That is a mystery. He had no other tie-in to the show. He wasn’t hosting, he wasn’t presenting, and unless this was his audition as host for next year (which, after his excellent stint hosting the Emmy’s this year, would be a grand idea) his presence on stage felt completely out of place. There was nothing else lyrical to this show, nor did anything else in the evening present the energy of Neil Patrick Harris and his Busby Berkley number. While it was a welcome piece, reminiscent of the Billy Crystal days, in this telecast it was a piece to a different puzzle.
The roasting attitude the song-and-dance instilled carried over into the lethargic hosts, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. While each on his own if often hilarious, their play off of one another seemed to slow the both down. Their roasting of the nominees seemed unwelcome at first as the crowd took a long time to warm up. Clearly the song-and-dance set an incorrect tone and served as a poor opening act for these co-hosting headliners.
It wasn’t as though the jocular material wasn’t good or creative, but it wasn’t appreciated by the audience in the room. Jokes like, “there’s that damn Helen Mirren. No, no, that’s Dame Helen Mirren,” fell completely flat, despite smiles from Helen Mirren herself. Even the normally jovial George Clooney seemed preoccupied. When angry glances were made from the hosts in his direction, he glared right back – clearly this was part of a predetermined act, but he never really cracked a smile to suggest that it was all in good fun. Despite the laughs this kind of roasting may have received by the home viewers, after a long, slow warm-up that is, the phrase that best came to mind to describe the response to these comedic hosts was, “tough room.”
This is kind of a sad statement. In years past, those in the film industry have often been the first to poke fun at themselves. Woody Allen makes films based on this fact. The Friar’s have an annual roast for just this purpose. But last night’s telecast didn’t seem to appreciate the good humor of being able to laugh at one’s self and the industry in which they work. Sacha Baron Cohen, for example, was to be part of an act roasting the biggest film of all time and last night’s Best Picture nominee, Avatar. But this act was pulled, thought to be in poor taste and might offend creator James Cameron. Instead this act became a solo presentation by Ben Stiller, dressed as a blue Na’vi character from Avatar, to present the Best Make-Up award. This was a disappointing fact. Not only would Baron Cohen have been great at poking fun at such a monumental achievement like Avatar, but James Cameron, in years past, would have been the type to appreciate such humor.
What does this say about today’s Hollywood? The ability to laugh at the absurd nature of the creative industry is waning. In previous telecasts this has been a celebrated part of the awards. Jack Palance did push-ups upon receiving an Oscar, Roberto Benigni climbed over the backs of other audience members making his way to the stage, and James Cameron outstretched his arms and proclaimed himself “king of the world” references/mocking his own Titanic. These moments are what used to make watching the Oscars entertaining. Where was this fun? Where was this attitude acknowledging that everyone in Hollywood gets to play for a living? Last night it was noticeably lacking; everyone seemed to take their work very seriously, which made for an evening much like watching a board meeting rather than an awards show.
Gone seem to be the days of class and humor of the Academy Awards. Despite the tuxedos and fancy designer dresses, last night’s awards were rushed and classless. No longer do we recognize “Outstanding Achievement in…” whatever category may be up next, instead this was replaced by “Best…” whatever. When did the Academy become so secular? “Best…” is how the audience and the media refer to the categories as a way to conserve words. The Academy itself has always been very clear not to speak in singular terms, aside from the Best Picture category of course, but to appreciate the achievement of all its nominees and to award the most “Outstanding Achievement in” a specified area. How do legends like Meryl Streep and Dame Helen Mirren feel when Sandra Bullock is awarded not “Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role” but fully “Best Actress” (seemingly of the year)? Does not this distinction put Sandra Bullock herself on the pedestal and in the spotlight rather than her work and her performance in The Blind Side? While I don’t doubt that it was a much-deserved recognition for her performance, I certainly wouldn’t put her talents on the same level as either Ms. Streep or Ms. Mirren, but that is precisely what happened last evening.
Similarly, each category, save one, was never presented with an Oscar. That is not to say that statuettes were not handed out, but like awarding the “Best…” instead of appreciating an achievement, every category was read, “and the winner is…” Only the ever-classy Kate Winslet presented the award for Best Actor – or should I say “Outstanding Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role”… no, she too presented “Best Actor” – by reciting the classic, and far more appropriate, “and the Oscar goes to…” This was not only appropriate for a winning actor who has been nominated in the industry for over thirty years, but for Jeff Bridges whose comes from a classic Hollywood family.
What has happened to the Academy? Does tradition not matter anymore? Does the secular ineptitudes of modern society really need to intrude on the classic traditions of the black-tie affair that is the Academy Awards? In a world where a society does not frown on wearing jeans to the theatre and beer and hamburgers and common film concessions, cannot the Academy Awards maintain their red-carpet and tuxedo-clad dignity? They are trying to hold on, but the cracks are beginning to show.
Few moments of last night’s telecast seemed both to fit the elegance of the Awards and make for a fresh and exciting broadcast. In became evident early on that the producers were trying to keep the show “short and sweet.” Exit music came in early and stepped on just about everyone’s biggest career moment. This clearly frustrated everyone who was on stage to accept an award. This hurried tempo seemed to create chaos, but then there were moments that attempted to slow things down entirely.
A special tribute to the late John Hughes, separate from the traditional “In Memoriam” tribute, ran almost 5 full minutes and included on-stage testimonials from some of his beloved actors like Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Macauley Culkin, Jon Cryer, Anthony Michael Hall, and Matthew Broderick. While this was a nice sentiment, as Mr. Hughes was a filmmaker that defined a generation, one was left with the impression only that the producers of the telecast were Hughes fans and since they had the reigns they were going to pay tribute as they pleased.
Additionally a 3-minute genre tribute to Horror was presented, seemingly out of nowhere. While it was fairly well put together, it served no purpose other than to slow down the show. It was not an orchestral feature as part of the nominated scores, nor was it part of a larger work featuring many different genres of film. It just was, and it felt extremely out of place. Why, if time is so precious (no pun intended) that everything has to be rushed, must we stop and feature a genre?
Nominee Morgan Freeman narrated a video segment showcasing the art of sound mixing and editing. This clarified for the audience, as well as many viewers at home, what these specialized categories entail. Unlike most other video segments, this was presented in an entertaining and informational fashion that fit perfectly with the tone the moment it was presented. In was one of only a few such moments of the evening.
In the Best Actor and Actress categories, each nominee had a representative on stage, either a fellow actor or previous collaborator to introduce and applaud the nominee with a stirring emotional tribute. Seeming to be off-the-cuff, many of these sentiments came across as very heartfelt, for the first time showing some caring and compassion for a fellow creative professional. It was some heart in an otherwise heartless evening.
Perhaps the highlight of the evening, aside from the editors of ultimately Best Picture winner The Hurt Locker accepting the award for Best Editing and thanking the Academy for allowing them the freedom from interference so they could “make the movie they wanted to make,” was Oprah Winfrey’s introduction to Best Actress nominee Gabourey Sidibe. The first time nominee couldn’t contain her tears of joy than not only being nominated for such an award but that she was being lauded by such an industry icon. Of all the celebrities that evening, the wide-eyed wonder of Gabourey Sidibe, who had the biggest smile, the best sense of humor, the most enjoyment of every moment, was a reminder for us all of what the Oscar telecast is supposed to be.
The Oscars lost something this year. They have become complacent being self-fulfilling. They have lost the notion of what it means to work in the entertainment industry. But a wide-eyed newcomer, an everyman, a first time actress and Best Actress nominee may be just what the Academy need to remember what it takes to be classy and a winner.
