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Oscars 2015: Now the parade’s gone by

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The 87th Academy Awards were held last night, marking the official end of awards season. Now Oscars (Lego and otherwise) are safely ensconced in their new homes, the feverish live blogging and tweeting has ceased, and Hollywood has taken down all the bunting and stored it away until next year. Time to review the ceremony’s hits and misses.

The opening number

With a Tony under his belt for Best Leading Actor in a Musical, it was inevitable that Neil Patrick Harris would start the show with a song. And he did: a barn-storming, special effects-laden extravaganza called ‘Moving Pictures’ that showed him at his most charming. The gags were good too: “No one’s drunk and bitter yet, ‘cause no one has lost,” Harris chirped from the stage; cue Benedict Cumberbatch—the man least likely to carry off the award for Best Actor last night—taking a swig from a whisky flask and telling the cameraman to go away. Yes, there were tricks I’d seen before (the whole ‘inserting the host into a string of film clips’ idea seemed more impressive when Billy Crystal did it), but anything that manages to cram in tributes to Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly and Cary Grant in the space of 30 seconds has my immediate seal of approval.

Long-overdue recognition

For J.K. Simmons, Julianne Moore, Patricia Arquette and Alexandre Desplat among others. Julianne Moore is one of the few actresses I will watch in anything, be it dystopian science fiction or Wildean social commentary. Before the rave notices for Still Alice, I was afraid she might suffer the same fate as Barbara Stanwyck: overlooked despite multiple nominations, then handed a late-career Honorary Oscar as a consolation prize. J.K. Simmons and Patricia Arquette have also been quietly dependable for decades and I’ve enjoyed watching their clean sweeps on the awards circuit for their performances in Whiplash and Boyhood respectively. The delicate, lilting ‘River Waltz’ in The Painted Veil made Alexandre Desplat one of my favourite composers working today. I suppose it took being nominated twice in one category, at the same ceremony—Desplat won for his score for The Grand Budapest Hotel, but was also nominated for The Imitation Game—to finally force the Academy to give him his due.

Patricia Arquette’s acceptance speech

“It’s our time to have wage equality once and for all and equal rights for women in the United States of America.” Indeed. Arquette took the sliver of time too often consigned to tears, rambling and breathlessly thanking one’s agent and used it instead to demand better treatment for women in her industry, and across the country. Meryl Streep and Jennifer Lopez’s ecstatic approval was a joy to behold.

Lady Gaga’s performance

When Lady Gaga walked out to perform a medley of songs from The Sound of Music, my heart sank. I’ve never been fond of her music and have always regarded her as a performer more interested in spectacle than craft—the sort of person who wears a meat dress and sports rubber gloves on the red carpet. But then a miracle happened. She sang. No outrageous outfits or flashy, electronic distractions. Just a pure, clear voice. The hills are alive with the marvellous sound of Gaga.

The ‘In Memoriam’ reel

The Academy honoured Bob Hoskins, which is more than can be said for the Baftas (shame on them) and I was relieved to see Louis Jourdan included too, since he died so close to the ceremony. But where on earth were Joan Rivers and Elaine Stritch? It’s hard not to imagine that their omission, and the inclusion of two marketing executives, wasn’t a result of the same sort of unseemly lobbying the New York Times reported on years ago. Also, why were there no films clips in the memorial reel, only painted portraits? Audiences might recognize actors and actresses by sight, but film clips are essential to acknowledge writers, costume designers, make-up artists, cinematographers and anyone else who might not be a familiar face—we might not know the name, but we will recognize the work. Now that honorary Oscars have been relegated to the untelevized Governors Awards, the memorial reel is practically the only part of the ceremony that focuses on film history. It takes more than a single watercolour portrait to honour the achievements of someone like Mickey Rooney, who made his first film as a child in the silent era, and whose last will be released later this year.

Selma’s only Oscar was Best Song

“Tonight we honour Hollywood’s best and whitest. Sorry, brightest.” Neil Patrick Harris’ opening quip only made Selma’s glaring absence from every major category except Best Picture even more embarrassing. Much ink (virtual and otherwise) has already been expended on Selma and the Academy’s attitude to race. Suffice it to say that Oscar voters chose to honour the weakest part of the film: a lacklustre ballad that’s completely devoid of the power which drove the best ‘60s protest songs and which sounds out of place even in the film’s end credits. At least John Legend didn’t squander his acceptance speech, drawing attention to the fact that there are currently more black men under correctional control in America than were enslaved in 1850.

Michael Keaton and Richard Linklater went home empty-handed

Rare is the day that a Brit wins an Oscar and I don’t jump for joy. From the moment I saw him in Birdman, I wanted Michael Keaton to win the Academy Award for Best Actor. My disappointment that Ralph Fiennes wasn’t even nominated for his astonishing work in The Grand Budapest Hotel was lessened by the knowledge that Keaton had made the list, and my belief that he would win for what is obviously the finest performance of his career. But he didn’t. To make matters worse the Academy, faced with two highly unusual films, plumped for Birdman for both Best Director and Best Picture, ignoring Boyhood. It could have at least acknowledged Richard Linklater’s unique achievement in directing one film over the course of 12 years.  I love Birdman to bits, but I can’t help feeling that it was honoured for the wrong things.

And now, because it’s never too early, here are some Oscar predictions:

-The production team will fire its gag writers before the next ceremony. The opening number is proof that Neil Patrick Harris wasn’t to blame for a so-so telecast—the leaden jokes were.

–Sean Penn won’t be allowed anywhere near the stage, unless he wins an award.

-And John Travolta will return yet again to apologize for behaving like the creepy uncle people avoid at family gatherings.

 

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