The newspapers, airways, and countless websites were filled with comments and analysis for days following the Oscar presentations. Buried somewhere in all that nonsense was the fact that viewership was down 16 percent from last year. One pundit wrote a lengthy story trying to explain why.
He should have called me, I know the reason.
Itās simple, they had the nerve to air their program opposite the eighth episode of this yearās Downton Abbey series. Fans of PBSās signature show know that the glamour, costumes, settings, and intrigue of this brilliant work far outweigh anything the egocentric Hollywood crowd can produce on Oscar night. Interestingly enough there was a 16 percent increase in Downton Abbey viewers that night, enough said.
Now a few comments about the Oscars themselves. Letās start with the āRed Carpetā routine. For me, a waste of time. Watching the interviewers fawn over the stars and starlets usually requires a shot of Alka Seltzer for me. We switched to re-runs of the Andy Griffith show until the actual presentations began. During commercials, we flipped over and caught glimpses of the runway crowd. One look at Jennifer Lopez and Gwyneth Paltrowās dresses, and we realized the down-to-earth and humble personalities of the folks in Mayberry, North Carolina, were far more important. And we were rewarded as we watched Opie catch a fish!
Unfortunately, we had to switch back when the actual presentations began, my editors insisting I watch the show since my column is devoted to the movies, I reluctantly agreed. I thought Neal Patrick Harris did a great job with the opening number and the quick segue to the best supporting actor presentation was smooth. The winner J.K. Simmons gave a humble, brief, and warm thank you and left the stage to thunderous applause, and I thought, Well, this might not be so bad tonight. WRONG, the show quickly nosedived from there. To be fair, there were some outstanding moments, I thought Lady Gagaās rendition of songs from The Sound of Music was pretty special, even more so when Julie Andrews came out and hugged the infamous Lady.
There was also the rich and moving performance of the Oscar-winning song Glory from the movie Selma. The cameras focused on a number of attendees who had tears streaming down their cheeks as the song ended, no doubt honest feelings.
In the meantime I took no umbrage at the various awards; I thought they were all well-earned, although I didnāt necessarily agree with all of them. Somehow in there Bradley Cooper and Benedict Cumberbatch got jobbed, but Iām not sure how you reconcile that. I was glad to see The Grand Budapest hotel win a batch of awards, as that was one crazy, entertaining film. As for Birdman winning best movie, I have mixed feelings. As I wrote in my review about that movie, āthe profanity, so prevalent it was like a nasty virus slowly killing itsā host, and by the end, despite the brilliance, I was glad it was over.ā By all accounts Michael Keaton was expecting to win the best actor award and was visibly disappointed when he didnāt. (In the best-kept secret following the show, Keaton donned his Batman costume and punched out the PriceWaterhouse representatives).
Finally, I promised a tally of the votes received when I asked you for your input on the movies you liked best in a column I wrote late last year. Thanks to those of you who took the time to email me your thoughts. The winners, hands down, were Chef and The Hundred-Foot Journey. I agree, they were both great, and I was surprised that Chef was not nominated for best movie. Anyway, those are my thoughts, we always welcome yours.
