Glamour and Depravity Collide at the Oscars
The Academy Awards, like the motion pictures they reward, reflect today's culture: much of it is depraved and most of it is unexceptional. Yet, at their best, the Oscars are a celebration of glamour -- and it's about the only one we've got.
This year's Oscar ceremony had its finer moments. The Kodak Theatre's stage was decorated with elegant lines. Matthew McConaughey's stone-faced patriotism -- he wore a red, white and blue corsage -- was a welcome contrast to smug, rich liberals flashing peace signs while young Marines are dying to preserve their freedom to make movies. There was one moment where you could hear a pin drop: when Peter O'Toole, accepting an honorary Oscar, ended an eloquent speech by thanking the United States of America.
Such somber tones are fitting in times of war. For all the right-wing radio bellyaching about Hollywood, most in the audience seemed to grasp what's at stake in this war. Nicole Kidman explained that the Oscars matter "because art is important." Host Steve Martin dedicated the evening's ceremony to the men and women of America's Armed Forces and even old lefty Barbra Streisand put the emphasis on being an American, not on being anti-American.
Then there was Michael Moore, who won the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature for his anti-gun Bowling for Columbine. It was the moment everyone had known would come -- at a ceremony marked by a string of left-wing causes from Marlon Brando's American Indians to Vanessa Redgrave's Palestinians. Only this time, as Moore launched his diatribe against America, it appeared that those whose business is making pictures -- the writers, the producers, the grips -- matched Moore's voice of anti-America with a chorus of boos.
Sure, there's plenty wrong with Hollywood and the Oscars are no exception. There were a bunch of actors who don't know how to look up tuxedo in the Yellow Pages. There was Best Actor winner Adrien Brody's vulgar assault on Halle Berry. There was a standing ovation for Brody's director, Roman Polanski, a fugitive from the law who raped a 13-year-old child, won the Oscar for Best Director and received a standing ovation, reminding the world that *some* in Hollywood celebrate the depraved for being depraved.
There is also the best of Hollywood. It represents those who are talented, independent and -- like Kirk Douglas replacing the politically correct "and the Oscar goes to..." with "and the winner is..." -- defiant. They strive to create, not to copy, and their work may restore motion pictures to their early promise. They don't flash peace signs, they don't mock America, a nation without which their work is not possible, and they prefer glamour to depravity.
During Sunday night's 75th annual Academy Awards, one of them emerged quietly, but indelibly. It was 86-year-old Olivia de Havilland, star of Gone with the Wind, who introduced a special segment that showcased past Oscar winners. De Havilland, looking resplendent in electric blue chiffon, made the curt observation that Hollywood had changed.
"What hasn't changed," de Havilland said in her gentle tone, "is our love of the movies. They inspire us and help us through troubled times." Hers was a softspoken challenge that yearns for a brighter future -- for a culture that produces great movies -- and her grand presence proved truly worthy of Oscar's Diamond Jubilee.
Scott Holleran will write commentary on the movies and related topics on a regular basis. If you wish to voice your opinion about this article or its subject matter in our forthcoming "Letters to the Editor" section, email your feedback to mail@boxofficemojo.com. Please include your full name, city, state and/or country.
This year's Oscar ceremony had its finer moments. The Kodak Theatre's stage was decorated with elegant lines. Matthew McConaughey's stone-faced patriotism -- he wore a red, white and blue corsage -- was a welcome contrast to smug, rich liberals flashing peace signs while young Marines are dying to preserve their freedom to make movies. There was one moment where you could hear a pin drop: when Peter O'Toole, accepting an honorary Oscar, ended an eloquent speech by thanking the United States of America.
Such somber tones are fitting in times of war. For all the right-wing radio bellyaching about Hollywood, most in the audience seemed to grasp what's at stake in this war. Nicole Kidman explained that the Oscars matter "because art is important." Host Steve Martin dedicated the evening's ceremony to the men and women of America's Armed Forces and even old lefty Barbra Streisand put the emphasis on being an American, not on being anti-American.
Then there was Michael Moore, who won the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature for his anti-gun Bowling for Columbine. It was the moment everyone had known would come -- at a ceremony marked by a string of left-wing causes from Marlon Brando's American Indians to Vanessa Redgrave's Palestinians. Only this time, as Moore launched his diatribe against America, it appeared that those whose business is making pictures -- the writers, the producers, the grips -- matched Moore's voice of anti-America with a chorus of boos.
Sure, there's plenty wrong with Hollywood and the Oscars are no exception. There were a bunch of actors who don't know how to look up tuxedo in the Yellow Pages. There was Best Actor winner Adrien Brody's vulgar assault on Halle Berry. There was a standing ovation for Brody's director, Roman Polanski, a fugitive from the law who raped a 13-year-old child, won the Oscar for Best Director and received a standing ovation, reminding the world that *some* in Hollywood celebrate the depraved for being depraved.
There is also the best of Hollywood. It represents those who are talented, independent and -- like Kirk Douglas replacing the politically correct "and the Oscar goes to..." with "and the winner is..." -- defiant. They strive to create, not to copy, and their work may restore motion pictures to their early promise. They don't flash peace signs, they don't mock America, a nation without which their work is not possible, and they prefer glamour to depravity.
During Sunday night's 75th annual Academy Awards, one of them emerged quietly, but indelibly. It was 86-year-old Olivia de Havilland, star of Gone with the Wind, who introduced a special segment that showcased past Oscar winners. De Havilland, looking resplendent in electric blue chiffon, made the curt observation that Hollywood had changed.
"What hasn't changed," de Havilland said in her gentle tone, "is our love of the movies. They inspire us and help us through troubled times." Hers was a softspoken challenge that yearns for a brighter future -- for a culture that produces great movies -- and her grand presence proved truly worthy of Oscar's Diamond Jubilee.
Scott Holleran will write commentary on the movies and related topics on a regular basis. If you wish to voice your opinion about this article or its subject matter in our forthcoming "Letters to the Editor" section, email your feedback to mail@boxofficemojo.com. Please include your full name, city, state and/or country.
