There was glamour on the red carpet, and then Jennifer Lawrence toppled. Again. There was humour in Ellen DeGeneres’s monologue, but soon it DeGenerated into slapstick comedy and a petty costume party.
There were performances by U2, Karen O and Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig, and then Darlene Love started squawking because she felt happy. There were brilliant presenters such as Whoopi Goldberg, Anne Hathaway, Harrison Ford, Kevin Spacey, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Robert DeNiro, Benedict Cumberbatch, John Tromolto, but the Academy had to elect Man in Black for the finale.
There were many technical Oscars bestowed to Gravity (best visual effects, best sound editing, best sound mixing, best cinematography, best film editing, best original score, and best director) but somehow 12 Years a Slave bagged Best Picture.
“There’s a few things, about three things to my account that I need each day. One of them is something to look up to, another is something to look forward to, and another is someone to chase.”
Matthew McConaughey (Lead Actor, Dallas Buyers Club) had nailed it. Critics jibed him for looking up to God; and while I do not necessarily agree with either party, those three constructions are invaluable. All of us have that special someone whom we respect, someone whom we yearn to see, and a role model that we aspire to be.
Every year people denounce the show for varying reasons, but no one should disparage it—for the Oscars is sublimely a muse.
