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Oscars? Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn

The anchors are boring, the writing pedestrian, and undeserving films win. There’s no reason left to watch the Oscars anymore.

Oscars? Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn

It was 11 years ago that I first woke up to watch an Oscar awards ceremony live. Over the decade, my interest grew — the opportunity to watch Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, Martin Scorsese and Christopher Nolan all together is the stuff a film fanatic’s dreams are made of. Plus, there have been some amazing anchors, like Billy Crystal and Steve Martin. Once the awards were given, you made a list of films to watch as and when opportunity arrived.

In recent times, though, things have changed. First, we get a regular dose of Hollywood films that get a simultaneous release in India. Others — the small-budget or R-rated films that don’t get wider reach — are available at DVD parlours (if released) and, dare I say, ‘online’ (if not released). So, you already are quite familiar with the films making a buzz even before Oscar season arrives.

Which is why when a film like The Dark Knight — not only a commercial blockbuster, but one that critics the world over hailed as a modern marvel — does not get nominated, you are surprised. Especially since you have watched Slumdog Millionaire, which won Best Picture the same year, and don’t get the big deal about it. Or when The Hurt Locker wins, and you realise that a lot better films were made that year but didn’t get due recognition. Green Zone, which took a harder and more realistic look at US troops in Iraq — unlike The Hurt Locker — was left out this year for reasons befuddling.

When Lagaan was nominated in the Best Foreign Language film category in 2001, we became aware of ‘campaigning’ — where a team of publicists and marketing wizards take a film out to as many Academy members as possible, and try to get them to vote for the film.

The problem is that the campaigning isn’t restricted to foreign films alone. In Hollywood, it’s the various luncheons and private parties that precede the Academy awards where the winners are decided in hushed conversations and below-the-table transactions rather than on Oscar night.

Harvey Weinstein, the man behind this year’s Best Picture winner The King’s Speech, is an old hand at this game. Along with his brother Bob, he ran Miramax Pictures till 2005, and some deft handling ensured he got his films in the Oscar race often. In 1998, the legend goes, Weinstein pulled strings to ensure his Shakespeare In Love edged out the more deserving Saving Private Ryan, directed by Steven Spielberg.

This year, too, Weinstein seems to have worked his magic. The victory for Weinstein is sweeter because it comes against rival Scott Rudin, producer of The Social Network, the film that most observers believe should have won. Rudin worked with Weinstein in Miramax before branching out to achieve much success at the Oscars himself, with films like No Country For Old Men.

So, even as film fans around the world set alarm clocks — depending on where they are — to tune in to an event which is supposed to be a celebration of excellence in cinema, it’s behind-the-scenes manoeuvring that apparently decides the winners.

Hardcore movie buffs don’t care about backroom politics and diplomacy but about films and stars and technicians responsible for entertaining them through the year, whom they wish to see get their due on Oscar night, and have some fun along the way.

If you can’t have the deserving films getting the awards, the least you expect is to watch a great show, but even that seems to have become impossible in recent times. In 2009, in order to attract ‘young audiences’, the Academy hired actor Hugh Jackman to host the show. The reviews were poor and the show recorded a rating of 20.6 (the percentage of US households that watch the show), only higher than the lowest ever rating of 18.66 recorded in 2008.

Last year, the Academy got popular host Steve Martin back and teamed him up with Alec Baldwin, and the rating went up to 23.3. This year, inexplicably, teen heartthrobs James Franco and Anne Hathaway were entrusted with the job and pretty as they may have looked onstage, they are now being regarded widely as the worst Oscar hosts ever. The rating are down to a poor 21.

So why care about the Oscars then? I, for one, am not waking up at 6am next year to watch it. Scott Rudin is probably going to give it back to Weinstein in 2012. And frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Not anymore.

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