Let’s try something different for the Oscars this year.
That’s “us”, the audience. Let US try something different. Let US try and enjoy them. Embrace them for what they are.
For if you are planning to watch, read about or discuss the awards next Monday (our time) and then be disappointed by them, then I’m sorry, but that’s your fault.
I’m not talking about the winners. Bitch and moan about who was robbed to your heart’s discontent. But let’s call time on the “why is it so long?” complaints, the outspoken “too many speeches” monologues, and the “how self-indulgent” indulgent whinges.
Every year of our lives – this is the 87th edition so the awards are surely at this point older than anyone reading this – the Academy of Motion Pictures and Sciences has got together to hand each other a bunch of gongs that look like a former employee’s uncle Oscar, and essentially participate in a now internationally televised mutual appreciation society.
Here’s a great example that we’re not allowed to embed.
If you can sincerely claim to be surprised when such an event – by definition structured around handing out 24 awards – proves to be three hours of insincerity, hyper-emotion and faux self-deprecation with just a hint of vaudevillian razzle dazzle, then you need to get a CAT scan as your brain is demonstrating the symptoms of degeneration.
I love the Oscars. I love the glitz, glamour, egos, tears, seat-warmers, miles of red carpet, clichéd stereotypes and even the moment each year when we meet the auditors. I like the Oscars. I really, really like them.
I hated when they got James Franco to host, not because he was awful – which he was – but because it seemed the Oscars themselves were having an identity crisis and were trying to become some bizarre hipster version of themselves. I love that the Oscars take themselves seriously. I love that they don’t claim to be the biggest awards on the planet, they know it without any doubt, despite the continued existence of such organisations as the Nobel committee and the Logies.
The best Oscars happen when the Academy is out and proud – shamelessly celebrating Hollywood as the centre of all that is good in the Universe. It’s escapism people, I’d like to believe this is true for three hours a year, and with Neil Patrick Harris at the wheel I think I probably can.
Here’s an example of NPH being awesome which, again, we’re not allowed to embed.
So prepare to bitch about who was robbed (clue: it will be the two Australians who are nominated, Interstellar, The Imitation Game and Selma), feel free to have a rant about ohmygodwhatisshewearing, but if you find yourself about to drone on about the people droning on. Don’t.
Just take the opportunity to thank the Academy.
Then in the words of the headache tablet commercials – see your doctor if pain persists.
Flicks will be live-blogging the Oscars ceremony this Monday afternoon. It will be entertaining and thorough we promise. See the full list of nominees here.
