Yes, I’m writing about the Oscars and they’ve already happened. And yes, you’re already tired of talking about them. I’m sorry, it’s just that I only recently managed to stop feeling guilty about everything bad that is happening in the world, and emerge at the keyboard. No, I’m not talking about bad films that won. Good films won. No, I’m not talking about bad things like the Mani-Cam being missing from the red carpet. I’m talking about the bad things happening in the world every Hollywood star who stepped up to the mic told me about. Didn’t you know people are marginalized, dying, mistreated and our planet is irreversibly ruined? That’s why everyone dressed up in couture and stood – sometimes with their one leg showing – and smiled on the red carpet.
The Oscars are traditionally one of my favorite nights of TV. I’ve always loved watching this ceremony for a number of reasons. One reason is that I get to be opinionated and yell at the TV the way people who understand sports do. My knowledge of sports is incredibly poor but my yelling at TV abilities are remarkable, so its important I flex these yelling muscles annually. The other reason I love the Oscars is I allow myself to drink champagne while doing this yelling – “Come on! Leo scooped out a horse, where’s his prize?” – whereas most other nights for budget reasons I drink merlot, or for health reasons I drink spritzers. (Note: Never drink merlot spritzers.) I also love the Oscars because I genuinely love the movies. I’ve loved movies since way before you could drink wine in the theaters. And in spite of the fact that theaters have that carpeting in them that makes you wonder how that many colors ever landed up in one place.
But this year, instead of feeling that love for the movies and yelling, “No really, Leo scooped out a horse and made it into a bedroom!” I felt guilty. Instead of watching the Oscars to celebrate the people who found stories and then travelled to far away places, fought actual bears, lived other characters, remembered actual Aaron Sorkin lines and came back with wonderful, magical moving stories about the human condition, I just felt guilty.
I felt guilty about the amount of white people in the room and that I was watching them. I felt guilty about looking at the dresses – how superficial of me! I felt guilty about calling the actors who are women actresses. I felt guilty those actor women, and all women, aren’t being paid enough or equally. I felt guilty about the environment. I felt guilty about Native Americans. I felt guilty about war. I felt guilty about abuse.
It was like all the joy I had consumed – with as much vengeance as the buckets of popcorn I ate while I watched the movies that were nominated – had to be given back on Sunday night. I almost put the champagne back in the bottle so I could save it for the day when everything is fixed. But once a bottle of champers is open…
Now, I’m a woman, from South Africa, who has worked in the corporate world. Believe me the issues of race, gender, and the heating up of the planet are all things that I know well. I’m proud to have been one of the voters who changed my country, and proud to have tapped on the boys ceiling of salaries to ask for equal pay. I know the changing temperatures. It’s not that I don’t care for these issues. And it’s not that I don’t think the global stage shouldn’t be used for great causes, but Sunday felt like I was put in the Imax theater of guilt. Surrounded by every cause, looming large with pain in Dolby Stereo. With no popcorn because not everyone has popcorn in the world.
Every actor and singer seemed to appear just to tell me the sad thing they were against/for/starting/stopping. And my concern is that it became a mish mash of noise. Whose cause is bigger, Leo’s, Kevin’s or Gaga’s? And that does no good for any good cause. I guess I’m saying if I turn off at the sound of every tin rattling for support, I’m probably not the only one.
The irony is that movies already do so much. This year I considered the pain of school bullying more by watching ‘Inside Out’, I learnt the plight of Native Americans more by watching ‘The Revenant’, felt the pains of war watching ‘Shok’, understood the harshness of sexual choices watching ‘Carol’, was reminded of the deep and unfinished history of racism watching ‘Hateful Eight’, felt the horror of abuse watching ‘Spotlight’ and ‘Room’, saw the grips of drug abuse watching ‘Amy’, remembered the great economic inequalities watching ‘The Big Short’.
Maybe I’m saying I can make up my mind without an A-lister telling me to do it on Oscar night. Maybe I just like making up my own mind what I will support in dark theaters with bad carpeting.
Now there’s a cause. If I ever make it to the red carpet expect to hear about raising funds for more neutral palettes in the movie theater carpeting world.
See you at the movies. I’ll be the one in the dark with the merlot.
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