The Academy Awards this year, if not anything, killed a thousand splendid memes dedicated to Leonardo DiCaprio missing the golden man. DiCaprio who made the world gasp collectively when Julianne Moore was announcing the award, smiled like a revenant and delivered one helluva speech. This is as good as it gets.
Everyone was of the opinion beforehand that this year would be DiCaprio’s, with a pity Oscar. Was it really a sympathy award or a legacy handout? I strongly disagree. DiCaprio might not be as eye-widening as Daniel Day-Lewis, or a born genius like Michael Fassbender, but he is an actor who has consistently shown a willingness to tread the alternate path in mainstream cinema. When he became the heartthrob of the world (not just the USA, mind you) with Titanic, he could have easily taken the Tom Cruise route, taking up films that kept his stardom alive by playing to the whims of his dedicated fan base. Instead, he boosted alternate films with the presence of his stardom. Now that’s what I call a star. Inarritu’s survival drama is alive because he is at the heart of it, displaying tremendous turn of physical acting. Above all, he deserved the Oscar more than any other actor in his category this year.
The acting awards, more or less, went to the right candidates. There was no one more deserving than Brie Larson for her psychologically claustrophobic turn in Room. We wish she had taken her co-star, the extremely adorable Jacob Tremblay (probably the finest accomplishment by an actor in 2015, ignored of course) to the stage. Larson is a future star, like Alicia Vikander who won the Best Supporting Actress for The Danish Girl, though she was far, far better as the android in Ex Machina.
Mark Rylance winning was the one big upset, but the kind that pleases rather than angers you. In Bridge of Spies, the kind of film that Steven Spielberg can churn out very easily, he started as an unfathomable villain, but soon we found him on our side, radiating a certain humaneness despite his job’s stern demands. He was definitely a better choice over Mark Ruffalo (Spotlight) and Sylvester Stallone (Creed).
When the night started, Mad Max: Fury Road very deservedly started to make a sweep in the technical categories, and the Oscars gave all the right vibes. It was absolutely touching to see the crew going to the stage, most of them, women, and thanking George ‘the mad’ Miller for making a film so full of madness and zeal. It is this band of women who made Miller’s vision into a feminist badassery.
I wanted Mad Max: Fury Road to hoard up all the possible awards, for a work of this scale of lunacy can be possible only when you are crazy and creative in equal measure, and you have a vision to sum it up. So when Alejandro G. Iñárritu won the award for Best Director over Miller, I felt great sadness. But I must admit, for all its worth, The Revenant was a work of primal force, and it was definitely a very, very competent choice.
Interestingly, Iñárritu who was everyone’s favourite last year, turned out to be the least popular man this year. And the reluctance to clap when Mad Max costume designer Jenny Beavan won the trophy, it only added fuel to the unpleasantness.
Emmanuel Lubezki, like almost every year, was a locked choice for the poetic wilderness he showed with his lenses in The Revenant.
It was unquestionably moving to see Italian maestro Ennio Morricone finally winning a competitive Oscar for Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight, and even mentioning John Williams in his speech. He achieved this feat after winning Honorary Award in 2007! Not so surprisingly, the orchestra didn’t drown out the musical genius. What a glorious win!
Son of Saul (Hungary) winning Best Foreign Language Film and Inside Out taking Best Animated Feature were least unforeseen wins. I would have loved it if Inside Out, another Pixar masterwork, had scored another nomination in the Best Picture category. The screenplay awards were spot on, without a doubt.
Was Spotlight a worthy choice for Best Picture? I’d like to say, yes. It was definitely a shock, but a very good one. Mad Max: Fury Road and The Revenant might be imaginative works of wonder for all their insanity and commitment, but Spotlight is the kind of film that sheds all drama in favour of the truth, much like the story that inspired it, understated yet fully realised. Cheers to the Academy for favouring a work of formal wisdom, and encouraging future storytellers with a hint that such stories can win if they are told well. With Spotlight, Michael Keaton has also made a comeback like a phoenix, rising from oblivion with two back to back Best Picture winners.
The host, Chris Rock, was a good choice for the whitewash the Academy is accused of, and in the face of the #OscarsSoWhite controversy, he delivered some commendable sardonic punches on race and diversity. Then again, the ceremony harped back too much on the issue, and it looked as if the Academy was hell-bent on redemption.
Even with the thank you scroll introduced, it looked like a subtitled affair, with a lot of rehearsal put into it. I missed the tears. Doesn’t the Oscar matter any more? And yes, dear orchestra, calm down a bit. The winners deserve to talk after all the hard work, rather than being drowned out by your hurried snobbery.
The past few Oscar rituals were riddled with safe or not-so-worthy winners. But this year was an exception, with a surprisingly well-judged string of victories, making it perhaps the most satiating Oscar ceremony in recent memory.
(The writer is a journalist and a screenwriter who believes in the insanity of words, in print or otherwise. Follow him on Twitter: @RanjibMazumder)
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