Oscars Wild

There was a time when I watched the Academy Awards to see how my favourite movies fared. These days, I watch them to see what’s worth seeing after the fact. And to see who’s wearing what, of course, and if the host can do better than Bob Hope, Billy Crystal, or Steve Martin did in their time. Awards as rule mean little to me, but the Oscars are an event. Even when they suck, they’re still the Oscars.

Ellen DeGeneres made them more fun, this year. Movies are magic and she has the right blend of humour and wide-eyed wonder to let the starts shine in their designer best. Her face in the “selfie that crashed Twitter” says it all: “Look, Ma! An ordinary kid in the midst of a constellation!” Honestly, I loved it enough to post it and copyright be hanged. I’d happily have Ellen host into the next millennium.

Alas, there were no real surprises among the winners except for the original song. I was stunned when Let it Go from “Frozen” beat out U2 and Pharrell Williams. I was dancing to Happy and bobbing to Ordinary Love, so was floored when neither of them scored the little golden guy. I thought for sure the political nod would go to U2 for their song (featured in “Mandela”), but “Frozen”, I am told, is also political. It’s the first Disney animated pic where the heroine is rescued not by the traditionally strong and handsome prince, but by another girl (her sister)! Oops. Well, having being enlightened, the song still left me cold.

Same for the naysayers who question that the selfie and pizza segments were staged. Um, these people are actors, folks. Staged or not, their job is to make us believe it’s for real. So buy in and enjoy, for Pete’s sake. Besides, if it was a staged promo, it failed because I’m not running out to buy a Samsung iPhone. As a spontaneous show of fun, however, they knocked it out of the park.

I love the movies. I don’t go to them as much anymore—too many explosions and too little story—but the cinema had a powerful influence on my budding creativity (not to mention my hormones) when I was a teen. It can still inspire me to rend my garments and wail, “I wish I’d written that!”

Hey, I’m only 52. I may yet write that Oscar-winning screenplay, perhaps adapted from my own original work.

“I’d like to thank God, my family, and the Academy …”