Another year, another Oscars, 97th in a series, presented live from the Dolby Theatre, on the former site of the Hollywood Hotel, structurally indistinguishable from Oscars that were — pandemic variations notwithstanding — and Oscars that will be. The early starting time — 7 p.m. instead of the old 8 p.m. ET — merely acknowledges what previous years have already made evident, that the program will not be over in three hours, as indeed it was not. (“If you’re still enjoying the show,” host Conan O’Brien said near the broadcast’s end, “you have something called Stockholm syndrome.”)
This was O’Brien’s first time captaining the Oscars, but he’s hosted the Emmys twice, in 2002 and 2006, the White House Correspondents’ Dinner in 2013, the MTV Movie Awards in 2014 and nearly 4,000 nights of late-night television. Are the Oscars more important, more intimidating than mocking Washington big shots to their often stony faces? More to the point, would the occasion let Conan be Conan — 6-foot-4 (6-foot-7 with the hair) human rooster and man of half a dozen voices, who featured on his “Late Night With Conan O’Brien” a recurring character called Masturbating Bear? Sure, he’s the latest — and with the co-optation of the Kennedy Center, its presenting body, possibly the last — winner of the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor, but he is one of the medium’s proudest weirdos.
And would the evening acknowledge the world outside Hollywood — that is to say, the world outside the picture business — in this year of fires and dumpster fires? Would anyone say anything particularly adorable or controversial? The chance of something really unexpected happening are, one would guess, powerfully guarded against; the odds of, say, a streaker, running across the stage (1974) or the wrong best picture being announced (2017).
It’s impossible to put on a consistently entertaining show that lasts three hours and requires a mix of reverential and irreverent tones, and, of course this didn’t; but it was generally navigable in spite of a pointless excursion into a dancing-singing salute to James Bond films, whose timing at least seemed odd given the not universally celebrated sale of the franchise to Amazon MGM Studios, and which lasted as long as the title sequences of, like, seven James Bond films.
Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande performing a medley of songs from “The Wizard of Oz,” “The Wiz” and “Wicked” at the start of the show.
(Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times)
The tonal mix was set at the beginning, with a montage of film clips representing Los Angeles, introduced by a pair of famous clicking red shoes and the words, “There’s no place like home.” Then Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande burned down the house with songs from “Wicked,” “The Wiz” and “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” from that movie your kids will like less than “Wicked,” but which you should show them anyway.
It was as if the producers wanted to establish some sort of elegant, non-ironic baseline in which to frame O’Brien, before things got strange. (Though announcer Nick Offerman made everything sound ironic, just by saying it.) The host finally entered the broadcast in a brief filmed bit, taking off “Substance,” emerging from the body of Demi Moore, dressed in his tuxedo (he had to go back in for one shoe). But O’Brien himself, as anyone who has spent any time listening to his podcast, “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend,” or remembers his moving sign-offs from various ending television series, will know he has a sincere streak, and believes in the possibility of good.
And so after a monologue comprising a mix of fairly painless gags aimed at films and film people, along with his usual complement of self-deprecation (“I know what you’re thinking — did Conan not have work done? Seriously. He looks his age”), he got a little serious, noting that “in moments such as this any awards show can seem self-indulgent and superfluous,” but that there is something fine in celebrating the work and the art “even in the face of terrible wildfire and divisive politics.”
Then he performed a production number, “I Won’t Waste Time,” which featured a chorus of dancing Conans and the “sandworm from ‘Dune 2’ ” playing “Chopsticks” on the piano. (The sandworm would be back later, playing the harp, because “when you spend that much on a bit you’ve got to do it twice.) That was about as weird as he got, though I can’t think of another host who would have ventured this joke: “We did not use AI to make this show. … We would never do that; we used child labor — hey, they’re still people.”
As to the fires, the Los Angeles Fire Department first responders were brought on to be saluted, and to tell some jokes of their own. And as to the dumpster fires, the fact that film is an international community that on occasion addresses real-world topics, it was impossible for the show, as much as it provides a safe space for Hollywood, to get pointedly political, and more so as the show went on.
O’Brien: “ ‘Anora’ is having a good night.” Referencing the film’s plot: “I guess Americans are excited to see someone finally stand up to a powerful Russian.” This elicited cheers.
Zoe Saldaña spoke about being a “proud child of immigrants” in her acceptance speech for supporting actress.
(Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times)
Zoe Saldaña, accepting a supporting actress award for “Emilia Pérez”: “My grandmother came to this country in 1961, I am a proud child of immigrant parents, with dreams and hardworking hands, and I am the first American of Dominican origin to accept an Academy Award, and I know I will not be the last.” That she celebrated the fact that she won for a film in which she got to sing and speak in Spanish felt particularly moving a day after the president declared English the official language of the United States.
Adrien Brody, stopping the play-off music to add thanks to his parents and declare, “I’m here once again to represent the lingering traumas and repercussions of the war and systematic oppression and of antisemitism and racism and othering … I pray for a healthier and a happier and a more inclusive world, and I believe if the past can teach us anything, it’s a reminder to not let hate go unchecked. … Keep smiling, keep loving one another. Let’s rebuild together.”
Surprises? Mick Jagger, presenting for best original song, got the room up on its feet because nothing excites a movie star quite as much as a rock star. Jagger: “Much as I love doing it I wasn’t the first choice … the producers really wanted Bob Dylan to do this. Bob said, ‘You should find somebody younger’ … So here I am.”
Adorable? Ninety-five-year-old June Squibb, presenting for makeup and hair with Scarlett Johansson: “I’m actually being played by [‘Nosferatu’ star] Bill Skarsgård right now. The real June Squibb is at home with a book right now.”
Gene Hackman, who was found dead last week, did get special treatment, in a tribute from two-time co-star and fellow Oscar-winner Morgan Freeman. The late music producer Quincy Jones, too, had a moment, introduced by Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey, and finishing with a Queen Latifah performance of “Ease on Down the Road,” another Oz musical that isn’t “Wicked,” in order to wake up the room in the fourth quarter. Well, it did me.
