Monday, February 28, 2005
Oscars
Since the Oscars are meant to show off movies and the people who make them, it would be enlightening, reasonable and a whole heckuva lot of fun to see film and lots more of the people being heralded. That would be the people who are the whole reason there's an Oscar show at all, right? The actors are the front men, wonderful and pretty faces, but those famously supposedly uninteresting sound and special technical people are the people who actually make the movies and make them work. Wouldn't it be nifty to learn something along with the glamour?? Sounds silly, I know, but there it is.
Curiously, this year I hadn't seen any of the Oscar-nominated films before the ceremony. Not one. For years it was a matter of pride for me to see all five nominated films and therefore be able to expound more or less intelligently on why particular films should or shouldn't win various awards. In this 77th year I was even reluctant to watch the award show because I felt apprehensive about promised rude-and-crude shenanigans by the host. What happened was no surprise after so many years of watching it, but I couldn't stay away from the show. I have to say I thought it was mostly just pretty boring. The songs were, as usual, not even close to the best choices and the diversionary moments were dreary. Even the in-house audience seemed subdued and fidgety, adjusting bra straps, nodding off, and leaving lots of empty seats while they presumably chatted out in the hallway.
One reason I didn't see this year's movies was concern about spending time watching foolish or bloody or just devastatingly sad movies. Often I prefer spending money to see films like Babe and Sideways rather than more socially and psychologically significant films. I doubt if I own enough Kleenex stock to afford to see Hotel Rwanda, for example. (I remember sobbing through so much of The Counterfeit Traitor late one night with my father that my eyes and throat hurt the whole next day. It's hard to want to put myself through that again no matter how much insight I might gain into human nature.) Film is such an effective medium for presenting important ideas but I want to laugh and enjoy myself when I hand over all that money for the privilege. The Man Who Knew Too Much isn't pure escapism but manages to be clever as well as entertaining, and it's such a pleasure. As opposed to . . . oh, pick one.
As for the Oscar show itself, the excitement and pleasure of winners' families was genuinely delightful. Unfortunately they were visible for only the briefest of moments because of the producer's weird priorities about timing the show vs. enjoying the experience. Yes, yes, the gowns were lovely and no one tripped or displayed utter ridiculousness. Unless you count the host, of course, who managed to shout a lot while being only mildly offensive and not at all funny to me or anyone the camera swung onto. Some attendees looked and sounded extraordinarily bored including that sleeping man near Mrs Scorcese, but maybe a lot of industry people just endure the ceremony as a ticket to schmooze and imbibe at the all-night parties. Maybe I'll try that approach next year if the producer and host are the same.
Curiously, this year I hadn't seen any of the Oscar-nominated films before the ceremony. Not one. For years it was a matter of pride for me to see all five nominated films and therefore be able to expound more or less intelligently on why particular films should or shouldn't win various awards. In this 77th year I was even reluctant to watch the award show because I felt apprehensive about promised rude-and-crude shenanigans by the host. What happened was no surprise after so many years of watching it, but I couldn't stay away from the show. I have to say I thought it was mostly just pretty boring. The songs were, as usual, not even close to the best choices and the diversionary moments were dreary. Even the in-house audience seemed subdued and fidgety, adjusting bra straps, nodding off, and leaving lots of empty seats while they presumably chatted out in the hallway.
One reason I didn't see this year's movies was concern about spending time watching foolish or bloody or just devastatingly sad movies. Often I prefer spending money to see films like Babe and Sideways rather than more socially and psychologically significant films. I doubt if I own enough Kleenex stock to afford to see Hotel Rwanda, for example. (I remember sobbing through so much of The Counterfeit Traitor late one night with my father that my eyes and throat hurt the whole next day. It's hard to want to put myself through that again no matter how much insight I might gain into human nature.) Film is such an effective medium for presenting important ideas but I want to laugh and enjoy myself when I hand over all that money for the privilege. The Man Who Knew Too Much isn't pure escapism but manages to be clever as well as entertaining, and it's such a pleasure. As opposed to . . . oh, pick one.
As for the Oscar show itself, the excitement and pleasure of winners' families was genuinely delightful. Unfortunately they were visible for only the briefest of moments because of the producer's weird priorities about timing the show vs. enjoying the experience. Yes, yes, the gowns were lovely and no one tripped or displayed utter ridiculousness. Unless you count the host, of course, who managed to shout a lot while being only mildly offensive and not at all funny to me or anyone the camera swung onto. Some attendees looked and sounded extraordinarily bored including that sleeping man near Mrs Scorcese, but maybe a lot of industry people just endure the ceremony as a ticket to schmooze and imbibe at the all-night parties. Maybe I'll try that approach next year if the producer and host are the same.
Labels: movies, reflections
