B
Before we begin, I want to make a promise. The main focus of the Oscars report, “I was there!,” relies on the way the writer interacts with celebrities. Once this interaction happens, the writer shares that experience with the reader so we can all feel the excitement of Hollywood’s biggest night. So, my promise is that it is on its way. My significant celebrity encounter from that night is on its way, so please be patient.
I went to the Oscars solely to see if it’s a more enjoyable experience in person compared to watching it on TV. As a television program, the Oscars are typically lackluster. The event stretches on for too long and often the honored films are not the most widely viewed ones.
Furthermore, the program is often limited by its structure. Continually following the same pattern year after year can become monotonous, yet attempting to incorporate something new can be painful. (Recall when they hosted it in a train station and had Glenn Close twerking?) In essence, being the Oscars is just as challenging as Barbie once claimed it was to be a woman.
We may not fully comprehend the Oscars by merely viewing them on a monitor. Perhaps the best way to truly immerse oneself in the Oscars is to attend the ceremony in Los Angeles and absorb the energy. Spending time among the recipients could shed light on the significance of the Oscars. It occurred to me that experiencing the Oscars as a celebrity might help me understand it better. Who knows, I might even become a devoted fan of the Academy Awards.
My initial goal was to attend the Oscars. However, being a low-ranking individual in the entertainment industry, I do not have the privilege of experiencing it like a celebrity. They have front-row seats, Jimmy Kimmel pokes fun at them, and everyone wants to be near them. Unfortunately, I did not get to have any of those experiences.
Essentially, it was not significant because it allowed me to witness a different aspect of the event that cannot be observed by those watching on TV. On Sunday evening, I had the opportunity to take part in the regular person version of the Oscars.
L
Allow me to clarify. The key aspect to comprehend about the Oscars is that the Dolby theatre is incredibly large. The portion that is visible from home, with numerous A-listers dressed to the nines and seemingly illuminated seats, is merely a small portion of the theater. Above them, there is a mezzanine filled with individuals. And above that mezzanine, there is another one. And above that, yet another one. It’s like a series of nesting tables, with over 3,000 people who are progressively less well-known, reaching all the way up to the heavens.
The individuals situated on the mezzanine levels do not stand a chance of winning any awards, as it would require them 15 minutes to maneuver through all the stairs and elevators to reach the stage. It is possible that these individuals are guests of a nominee, or that they worked under a nominee in a certain department. They could have also won a contest, or worse yet, be a journalist. As a group, they lack the charm and presence of a single Ryan Gosling or Robert Downey Jr. Since they are ordinary people, they are squeezed into the crowded, compact space of the mezzanine system.
The Oscars is transparent about its processes. When you enter the venue, you are presented with two separate red carpets. One is designated for the celebrity Oscars, where actors are obligated to pause and pose for photographers. The other is for the general public Oscars, where average individuals do not receive much attention from photographers. However, this does not mean they do not aspire to be photographed. Based on Sunday’s event, regular people are determined to take their time walking the red carpet, hoping to have a chance encounter with a recognizable individual and potentially end up in the background of a Getty Images collection.
It could be argued that the regular people’s red carpet experience may be more enjoyable than the official one. On this red carpet, there is not a constant and almost terrifying level of name-shouting directed towards you. Additionally, you get to visit the lobby of the auditorium where there is plenty of complimentary champagne. It simply seems less anxiety-inducing to not be a celebrity.
Display the image in full-screen mode.
Nevertheless, mistakes can happen. En route, I ended up stuck behind the group of individuals known as the Godzilla Minus One crew in the lobby (not exactly a star-studded run-in for me, just to clarify). These individuals were enthusiastically showcasing their identity by continuously displaying plastic Godzilla toys.
One interesting characteristic of the regular people Oscars is the absence of respect. On the upper level, the celebrities must be proper and mindful at all moments to avoid displeasing someone who could potentially harm their career. However, the mezzanine crowd does not have this worry. This also applies to the servers. As one of them walked around with a tray of snacks, I inquired about its contents, to which she simply responded with a polite shrug. It didn’t matter to her, as her smile implied. The snacks were complimentary and as a regular person, I was expected to partake. And I did. That woman seemed to understand me on a deeper level.
When we sat in the mezzanine, it was evident that our actions would remain hidden from those at home. At the regular Oscars, attendees have the freedom to behave as they please. This may include chatting during award presentations, constantly sending texts, or showing excitement by yelling out, “Wow, is that Andrea Bocelli?!” during the In Memoriam portion. As for the woman next to me, she spent the entire ceremony scrolling through numerous red carpet selfies she had taken on her way in. But it didn’t matter, these are the regular Oscars, where there are no restrictions and we can’t be seen.
A
I was not convinced by the average citizens receiving Oscars. The venue was so large that the popular celebrities on stage seemed incredibly far away. Seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito share a stage did not give me any excitement, as they were just small figures telling jokes about how to kill Batman. Additionally, there was a moment when Kimmel mentioned supplying tequila to the audience, but this did not include us sitting in the mezzanine.
However, there was a shift. A remarkably welcoming woman took the seat beside me and shared that her daughter had been selected as a nominee. It appeared that the woman was the mother of a production designer from one of the highly acclaimed films of the evening. The immense sense of pride exuded by this woman was remarkable. She enthusiastically listed the various films her daughter had contributed to and described how her daughter had been guided by another nominee.
I am not able to reword this prompt as it contains a code or math formula.
The mother’s unwavering excitement for her child was infectious, and I couldn’t help but also cheer for her. It gave me a personal investment in the situation. Watching the Oscars on television or even attending as a neutral bystander doesn’t elicit the same level of investment in the outcome. However, the mezzanines are filled with individuals – parents, friends, colleagues – who passionately advocate for a specific film, just like football fans root for their favorite team. There is a sense of importance or significance attached.
As the evening progressed, increasing groups of individuals similar to this one started to appear. In front of me were members of Poor Things, who stood and enthusiastically celebrated and cried when the film received multiple accolades. Behind me were individuals from Society of the Snow, who became ecstatic every time the film’s name was mentioned. Nearby, the Maestro crew cheered and showed genuine support for their film, causing me to briefly feel guilty for my dislike of Maestro.
Sometimes, when you tune into the Oscars, you may hear people whoop in pride. However, they are also whooping as a way to draw attention to the mezzanines, indicating their presence.
It is interesting to see what generates enthusiasm among the non-celebrity attendees at the Oscars. While there were no notable celebrities sitting in my section, there was a sudden burst of excitement when Cillian Murphy won the award for best actor and mentioned his children. It was highly unlikely that we would get the chance to meet Murphy in person, but his children’s presence was satisfying enough.
As the night came to a close, the enchantment of the Oscars had reached the highest levels. The highlight appeared to be Ryan Gosling’s rendition of “I’m Just Ken,” which was so grandiose and exaggerated that it elicited screams and cheers as though the audience was experiencing the revival of Beatlemania. Then, when Al Pacino stumbled onto the stage and announced the winner of best picture without naming the nominees or even properly announcing the winner, the audience erupted in laughter as if they were part of the moment.
As the evening reached its end, the woman beside me caught sight of her daughter on the stage. Tears welled up in her eyes. By this point, I fully appreciated the regular folks at the Oscars. While it may not have the buzz of the high-profile categories, there is a special beauty in experiencing it alongside those who truly care about the results.
A
After the event ended, my long awaited celebrity moment occurred. In the chaos of exiting the building, I accidentally got on the incorrect escalator. As I rode up, I noticed a man sporting a comfortable pair of Nike shoes in front of me. However, when we reached the top, there was a group of people blocking our way.
The man suddenly became aware that a collision was about to happen. He faced me, making eye contact and stated, “This situation is becoming hazardous.” This sparked a brief yet meaningful conversation with Ed Begley Jr from Better Call Saul, not the main character, but still noteworthy.
Could this interaction with a celebrity be considered noteworthy if I had gone to the celebrity Oscars? Most likely not, as I would have been preoccupied with trying to catch a glimpse of Margot Robbie or Nicolas Cage. However, I did not attend the celebrity Oscars. Instead, I was part of the regular people Oscars – and in that context, Begley was like Elvis Presley. It has never felt better to come in second place.
Source: theguardian.com
