I like to think that the Oscars are in my blood. On March 25, 1996, not only was I born, but the 68th Academy Awards took place. Obviously I did not watch the show that year, I was a bit busy being brought into the world and all, but I have been tuning in every year since.
I was especially excited about this year’s 87th Academy Awards, as I had actually heard of all of the best picture nominees for once. In my previous article, “And the Oscar Goes to: A Colligette’s Award Night Predictions”, I tried my best to predict who would be the big winners. Well, I was wrong about so many of the categories, but the Oscars this year were still fabulous and excruciatingly long as per usual. If you did not have a chance to watch, or fell asleep before they even got to any interesting categories, here’s what you missed. According to me, anyways.
The red carpet coverage was insipid as always. I resorted to looking at the stars arrive online and kept frantically refreshing to page to see what everyone was wearing. I realize some lady stars want the interviewers to ask them more insightful questions other than who they are wearing, but as a fashion addict, that’s kind of what I care about. So sue me. . I am also fairly certain that the designers who lent these stars extremely expensive custom gowns, in most cases, want their brand to be announced. Award shows are like prom for celebrities. I about died at this shot of honorary Oscar Prom King and Queen, Benedict Cumberbatch and his new wife, Sophie Hunter (in Lanvin). They are seriously everything.
My best dressed for the evening was definitely Julianne Moore in custom Chanel. It was covered in 80,000 hand-painted appliqués and was such a major red carpet moment.
Once we moved off the rain-soaked red carpet, the show kicked off inside with a charming musical number by the show’s host, Neil Patrick Harris. I mean, he might as well just host my life at this point. The song featured cameos by Anna Kendrick, reprising her role of Cinderella from Into the Woods, as well as a comically distraught Jack Black.
There was also a moment in the song that showed Benedict Cumberbatch drinking away his post-loss sorrows from a flask, which killed me. I just adore him.
Neil then moved into a brief opening monologue, which was more serious and reminded us that the Oscars let us “fall in love with moving pictures all over again.” Without further delay, they started the slow and sometimes painful process of actually handing out awards; the entire point of this evening.
The first went, unsurprisingly, to J.K. Simmons for his supporting role in Whiplash. He gave a short and sweet speech and told everyone to call their parents. So, if you haven’t called your parents yet today, go do that now. I’ll wait.
I hope you had a nice chat with them. Now on with the show. There were some “Fifty Shades of Grey” jokes and some Adam Levine singing and some expensive gift bag chitchat, etc., etc. They gave best costume design to Milena Canonero for her work on The Grand Budapest Hotel. She has done some amazing work in the past (Marie Antoinette, Chariots of Fire), and this film was no exception. She had on these fabulous sequined pants and I thought to myself, “I hope I can pull off sequined pants when I am 69.” The award for best make-up and hairstyling went to The Grand Budapest Hotel, as well. More specifically, to Mark Coulier and Frances Hanon, who worked magic on Tilda Swinton’s character in the film.
They then introduced this really weird, awkward bit where Neil had his Oscar night predictions written down in this briefcase that got locked in a glass box or something. It felt really strange and so forced. Poor Octavia Spencer (who looked so gorgeous in that pale grey-blue) was forced to play along and “watch” the case all night before the big reveal at the end. Personally, I was not a fan.
Thankfully, most of the presenters did not have terribly written jokes that they had to read before handing out awards. That is always the most cringe-worthy part of these things in my opinion. Nicole Kidman and Chiwetel Ejifor presented the Oscar for best foreign film to the Polish film, Ida. (It is on Netflix right now if you want to watch it. It is actually a beautiful film, so I would recommend it.)
I was already quite bored at this point, but there were only 500 hours left in the broadcast! Commercial break, blah, blah, blah. Shirley Maclaine showed up in full sequins, Michael Keaton chomped on gum, and Eddie Redmayne was in awe of Shirley’s sparkle. Actually, Eddie was in awe of everything the entire night. His face constantly resembled a person seeing electricity work for the first time. It was rather entertaining.
Marion Cotillard, the French goddess that she is, was forced to introduce the weirdest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. It was the performance of the song “Everything is Awesome” from The LEGO Movie. I now know what it would be like to take an acid trip. The performance resembled what I imagine The Beatles’ brains felt like during their “Strawberry Fields” years. On top of that, they were handing out LEGO Oscar statues that were seriously phallic-looking. Oprah was insanely excited to receive one, though.
After that interesting performance, they gave the award for best live-action short to the British film, The Phone Call. Since I am just so darn cultural and all, I have actually seen all of the nominated shorts and loved this one. The gentleman accepting the award thanked his local bakery and the donuts they make there, so that made me really want to make a Tim’s run. I refrained.
So this is always the point in the Oscars where I essentially fall asleep until the last ten minutes when they announce who won best picture. I toughed it out, but barely. Miles Teller and Margot Robbie (who looked like a call girl attending a funeral in that black Saint Laurent, and her matte, neon lip was all wrong; sorry, girl.) had to hand out awards to all of the technical people. I am amazed and so impressed by what those people do for films, but I cannot even begin to comprehend it so I zone out.
Then, they started handing out awards for sound mixing and editing. So many incredibly talented people are involved with that; it is just something that is so beyond me. Chris Evans was presenting and he looked perfect so I paid attention. Whiplash and American Sniper snagged those awards, respectively.
Jared Leto presented the award for best supporting actress to Patricia Arquette in Boyhood, who delivered an incredible speech regarding equal pay for women. It garnered intense reactions from Meryl Streep and J. Lo. Clearly Meryl thinks she’s been underpaid for her talents all these years.
Creepy facial hair Josh Hutcherson welcomed faux-Rihanna (Rita Ora) to the stage, and reminded me why I will forever be Team Gale. Then, Chloë Grace Moretz, who presented… something, (I was waning at this point and cannot remember. I am sorry I have forsaken you.) would not take her hands out of the pockets of her Miu Miu frock. Girl, you are at the Oscars dressed in the ugliest yellow floral bed sheets I have ever seen and you cannot be bothered to take your hands out of your pockets? Puh-lease.
More awards and stuff were handed out. My favourite part of the show at this point was the commercial for the Netflix original series House of Cards.
The Grand Budapest Hotel won another award for best production design. The Academy (and I) simply adored how this film looked. Every collaborator expressed the deepest thanks to the mastermind behind the film, Wes Anderson. I found it so endearing that they loved working with him so much, and how happy he looked for their success.
The goddess who is Meryl Streep said something about Joan Didion before presenting the “In Memorium” section of the night, but I was just in awe of her pure Streep-ness. I would like to request now that she give the eulogy at my funeral, because we all know she is immortal and will outlive us all by centuries.
Meryl got me kind of back on track, but I zoned out again and remember Terrence Howard getting ultra emotional about either Whiplash, The Imitation Game, or Selma. It was just a weird moment. I found it ironic that the clip they showed for Whiplash featured J.K. Simmons’ character asking a drummer if he was “rushing or dragging,” as this night was dragging. (This joke read a lot funnier in my head. My apologies.)
John Legend and Common then performed the song “Glory” from Selma. It was truly a cathartic experience and later won for best original song. John Legend could have ended the Civil Rights movement with one song. David Oyelowo, who depicted Dr. Martin Luther King in the film, was clearly touched by the performance. Chris Pine, from Into the Woods, was crying as well… because we all know Chris Pine’s ancestors must have been through a lot.
Idina Menzel did this “Adele Dazeem” redemption joke with John Travolta and that was all fine, until he kept touching her face. After that weird picture with ScarJo (who looked like a butch showgirl in that green Atelier Versace, my worst dressed of the night) on the red carpet, he was essentially like a drunk guy at a bar who didn’t want to go home alone.
The best moment of the night had to be Lady Gaga’s Sound of Music performance. She was wearing this ethereal white gown and belting her heart out. It was just breathtaking. I imagine Carrie Underwood and Anne Hathaway were hiding backstage in full costume waiting for Gaga to trip so they could take over. After Gaga’s flawless performance, the queen herself, Julie Andrews, came out and I lost my cool. I was sobbing, hysterical and screaming at my TV, much to the dismay of my roommate attempting to study for her midterms.
At this point, it was 11:27 without any best picture and I was essentially delirious. After that whole Sound of Music thing, I was drained. Birdman won best screenplay and The Imitation Game won best adapted screenplay. Screenwriter Graham Moore embraced Benedict Cumberbatch in a way I think we all wish we could, then thanked Oprah and told everyone to “stay weird.” It was beautiful, and so important and I loved it.
Ben Affleck, who looked as though he wanted to Gone Girl himself anytime the camera was on him, presented best director to Alejandro González Iñárritu for Birdman.
Considered the tightest acting race of the year, the best actor award went to Eddie Redmayne for his poignant portrayal of Stephan Hawking in The Theory of Everything. He is always utterly charming and his speech was just that. Julianne Moore took home the title of best actress for Still Alice. It was about time.
It is now 12:03 and Sean Penn is there for whatever reason. He is rambling and wearing all black. I am forced to have my eyes propped open Clockwork Orange-style. He opens the envelope and says something mildly offensive and we finally find out the best picture of the year is Birdman. It was always a toss-up between that and Boyhood, but once Birdman won best screenplay and director, it was kind of a given it would win best picture.
It was a long night of celebrities in couture, awkward jokes, mostly astounding musical performances and well-deserved awards. For a complete list of winners, click here. Until next year, Oscar.
Images obtained from:
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