The Oscars: Not as Worthless As They Appear

Hello folks, Mike Pagano here, writing my first piece for the Cookie Jar. I'm the same guy Corrye talked about a few posts ago, who called the 1998 Academy Awards "The Night the Oscars Died". We'll get to that in just a moment. First though, I want to thank Corrye for the chance to post on his blog. Hopefully this is the first of many.

For my first post, I want to talk about the 2011 Academy Awards ceremony. I won't trash it too hard; that road has already been traveled a number of times. Suffice to say, overall, it stunk out loud. If anyone had any doubts that night, they needed only to witness the extended standing ovation given to Billy Crystal. That wasn't applause you heard – it was a room full of people begging a man they loved not to leave the stage until the night was over.

Yes, it was rough. James Franco looked like someone sprayed him with starch, and Anne Hathaway seemed uncomfortably out of her element. But there were plenty of great moments, including memorable acceptance speeches by Melissa Leo, Christian Bale, and Randy Newman, and of course Colin Firth.

Which leads me to my point: the Oscars may have died in 1998, but that point requires some clarification. To me, the "death" was the death of my ever taking the awards seriously again. At this point, at least to me, it doesn't matter who wins. Getting nominated is what matters. I'll draw a parallel to the sports world: on any given year in any given sport, there is a debate over who "deserves" to be league MVP. Thanks to the advanced statistics now available, one can crunch the available numbers to make a strong and convincing case for just about anyone. That being said, to me, being in that conversation means more than actually winning. If you are deemed worthy of inclusion, then everyone agrees you had a pretty great year.

You can probably see where I'm going with this. With all the politics that surround the Oscar voting (as Corrye has already documented), actually winning the Oscar seems trivial. Combine this with the fact that voting for the "best" anything is subjective by nature, and it's clear that simply being nominated is perhaps the greatest honor. If your film was nominated for Best Picture, you've achieved a pretty good consensus that it was one of the best films of the year.

So, if winning doesn't matter, why does the ceremony still matter?

It still matters because for all of the awkward moments, all of the perceived injustices, all of the times when the audience almost fell asleep, it can still inspire. Witness Melissa Leo's reaction when her name was announced – sheer disbelief. You could almost read her thoughts: Did they say MY name? I admit I laughed like crazy when she dropped the f-bomb in her acceptance speech. Not because swearing itself is funny, but because of the moment – she was so overcome with disbelief, she resorted to her true self with no regard for the surroundings. It was instinctual, and I loved her for it. We have a tendency to think of actors and actresses as larger than life and in many ways "better" than us; this made her real.

As I write this two days later, I am still experiencing a bit of a high. Sunday night reminded me what is magical about the movies – the power of a well-written script and well-acted performance, the way a number of people can come together to create something influential, something authoritative – something great.

Oscar Night celebrates all that is right with Hollywood, and by extension, the world. Sure, there's a lot of back-slapping and ass-kissing; being that it's Hollywood, there's no getting away from that completely.

Let's face it – if you are blessed enough to get paid for doing something you love, and/or to be part of a team that's working toward some majestic goal, you are in the happy minority. The rest of us, those of us who maybe are trying to be in that group but more likely are just dreaming of it, look to nights like Sunday to arouse the dormant passion that we know is lying in wait, somewhere inside. Somewhere out there, on Sunday night, something clicked for someone. The next great script could be coming together at this very moment, and that it what is so exciting.