The mess of the film (strike that, video game) that won best picture last night reflected perfectly the mess of a ceremony which annually attempts to reconcile “woke” with “I win!”
My best Oscar moment was Hugh Grant on the red carpet trying to be real with his frozen-smile interviewer—her emptiness didn’t know how to react to his real and the verdict by the press, quoting a few folks on social media was Grant “was a total a__hole.”
Hugh kept at it with the real later in the evening, as a presenter, when he compared his aging look to a “scrotum” as he joked self-effacingly that his co-presenter Andie McDowell all her life used moisturizer and he never touched the stuff. In the nervous laughter moment which followed, wrinkled Hugh Grant looked beautiful, again.
Humor as the fountain of youth.
As Oscar Wilde put it, “Only shallow people don’t judge by appearances.”
“An old guy dumps his best friend for no reason” was the best theme of all the Oscar-nominated scripts.
It was held up to a green, bucolic, light in the understated Banshees of Inisherin, a film so perfectly and poignantly miserable it had me laughing out loud (I think because I “got” this inscrutable film, and so strongly, in fact, that I don’t think I will ever trust anyone who didn’t get this film). The best film by far (even if you couldn’t accept the poetic license of the fingers bit) which, of course, didn’t win, felt like the silent, lynx-eyed, prophet of this Oscar evening—powered by the rush of ephemeral, attenuated, elitist, simplistic, identity-politics, expensive-dress, dopamine, where anyone simple, normal, a bit miserable, and real is considered a “total a__hole.”
The lead character in Banshees, unable to comprehend why his tiny-village drinking buddy no longer wants to associate with him, clumsily blurts out “Ya used to be nice!” His musician friend gives him an Oscar-worthy look (both actors were nominated), thinking: this has nothing to with nice, and the fact that you think it is about nice is maybe the reason I don’t want to be your friend anymore. One can see how wonderfully complex this is, despite the intitial simplicity of the film’s theme.
The Hugh Grant/Ashley Graham moment, the moment of reality at the Oscars, was imitating the best film that was nominated.
The witty, worldly, Hugh Grant is having trouble expressing himself because of time constraint and shallowness and the world is reduced to exclaiming, “Hugh Grant is a total a__hole!”
Perhaps the chief problem facing us isn’t “misinformation.” It’s “miscommunication.” (Discommunication might be the better word.)
It was nice that the powerful “All Quiet On the Western Front” won some Oscars, but I couldn’t help but notice that none of those who went on stage to accept “their little awards” (to quote Ricky Gervais) mentioned, even for a moment, the novel on which the film was based, or its anti-war message. They thanked people, instead, and bathed in the light of their personal glory in winning “their little award.” They might as well have been accepting an award for a happy musical called “Top Gun.” All that seemed to matter was the award.
The poet Shelley said true poetry expands the soul with perspective and added views, not by “telling people to be good.” Far be it for me to want anti-war lectures at the Oscars, or anywhere else. It’s just that self-indulgent award ceremonies are like metals on Generals or Pulitzers on propaganda—as far away from poetry as it’s possible to get.
Top Gun success and camaraderie, sentimental dramas which make us cry, beautiful dresses, chirpy questions to Hugh Grant, a winner’s excitement and pride, none of these are bad in themselves, and if I lecture against these, I merely become what I criticize.
This Oscar essay is only an individual’s perspective. And perhaps a plea that no perspective should be shouted down.
Last evening was free of politics, for the most part. One award recipient thanked moms and then his mom and how she gave him space to be crazy. Sure, everyone agrees this is good, as long as crazy doesn’t become a cover to be harmful. But three cheers for the 2023 Oscars for not being stridently political. I think people are so done with that.
And politics is fine, as long as we remember, with Shelley, that here, too, as in film reviews or anything else—the humility of perspective is more important than lecture.
The Oscars host, Jimmy Kimmel, who did a pretty good job throughout the evening of being funny without being offensive, made an observation that was quite brilliant about film editing and January 6th. I believe he thought his joke was going one way. The beauty of it, however, was how the editing joke betrayed itself; it didn’t travel in one direction—but in all directions.