10 Things You’ll See At The Oscars This Year

There will be at least one anti-Trump tirade

It did wonders for Meryl Streep at the Golden Globes (and did scant damage by polarising her demographic, since the only Meryl Streep movie Trump voters would have seen anyway was Mama Mia).  Her passioned, personal, reasonable speech was so effective because it was in such contrast to the spluttering, overblown, inarticulate bullying of Trump himself, who quickly farted out his response on Twitter, calling her an overrated actress.  It emboldened a movement, as seen in the SAG awards where powerful speeches have followed Streep’s vanguard (including the cast for Stranger Things, who advocated punching ‘some people in the face’).

In the past, the Oscars have frowned on political opportunism during victory speeches: Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins, and Richard Gere got threatened with an Oscar ban, and Vanessa got booed for scolding ‘zionist hoodlums.’  And when Marlon Brando sent a (questionably) Native American named Sacheen Littlefinger (real name Marie Cruz) to refuse his award and protest the treatment of Native Americans, she almost got her face punched in by an irate John Wayne (himself born Marion Morrison) who had to be restrained backstage.

Mel Gibson’s pissed off nasty little face

There’ll be a camera set up specially for Mel Gibson, jowls rigid as switchblade springs, eyes flashing with the cold ice of soulless spite, ready for cut-aways whenever Jimmy Kimmel makes a joke, or someone delivers an anti-Trump tirade [see above].  The one thing the Alt-Right all have in common (besides their atavistic attitudes towards the rights of women, gays, or people of any color except hypertensive pink, and, of course, bright orange) is that they are sore winners.  Trump got in, and Gibson got a nomination.  So lighten up.  Stop being so bitter.  What they lack in sense of humor they make up for in paranoid hypersensitivity and a pathological lack of humility or self-deprecation: cf. Trump frothing in midnight rants against Saturday Night Live, or, cf., Gibson rearing up like a threatened macaque and invading Ricky Gervais’s space at the Golden Globes a couple of years back, with his clenched chin and his puffed chest, and was only minutes away from Gervais smashing a beer glass into his skull; or, cf., John Wayne, [see above].

Someone will try to violate the 45-second cap on acceptance speeches by continuing to shout the names of managers and relatives over the orchestra playing ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business’, even though the mixer will have been switched to the long shot taken from the camera in the second balcony.

Because, apparently, they don’t want the show to run over three and a half hours.  Which it will.  And Jimmy Kimmel will make a joke, and people will act astonished that it’s gone on so long.  Which is just that: acting.  Because the show hasn’t been shorter than three hours in three decades.  Not like the first Awards ceremony, in 1929.  That lasted 15 minutes.  Probably because they announced the winners in advance, and served a dinner of boiled chicken.  But they didn’t have commercial breaks.  Even when Greer Garson gave the longest speech ever, at six minutes, in 1943, the ceremony was still way under 2 hours.  But when you’re selling ad time, you’re going to shut visual effects artists up and cut to a commercial for Red Lobster at 1.8 million dollars for 30 seconds.

Someone will wear a dress that makes us a) question their artistic integrity, or b) question their sanity.

Luckily the dress is usually hideous in inverse ratio to their acting talent. Gwyneth Paltrow, in 2002, looked like she was wearing a tank top turned grey by the sweat of an interstate trucker, on top of a pile of discarded fabric from the lining of a casket.  Whoopi Goldberg’s dress in 2009 looked like something a Kentucky housewife hooked on Ambien would wear to an off-strip casino in Reno.  This is not counting, of course, Cher, Bjork, or Madonna, who do it on purpose, or Lizzy Gardiner, whose dress was made out of gold American Express cards, and was basically a full frontal job resume, considering she won for the costumes for the flamboyant drag queens (even by drag queen standards) in Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.  It’s about people like Halle Berry, in 2002, looked like a threadbare Victorian carpet.  They are not stupid, these women!  Because, as the old Hollywood adage goes, there is no bad publicity.  If the dress is bad enough, they will be looped on TV news segments.  Theirs will be the picture above the fold on newspaper front pages.

An Actor Will Thank God, because God loves them more than any of the other four nominees

Writers thank directors, directors thank actors, and actors thank God and their agent.  In Matthew McConaughey’s case, it seems God is his agent: ‘First off, I want to thank God… for the opportunities he’s graced my life with; opportunities that I know are not of my hand or any other human hand’.  So opportunities to bring to our world performances like playing a psychopathic Killer Joe who mouth-rapes Gina Gershon with a chicken drumstick?  Thank you, God.

The youngest supporting actress nominee will win

The record for youngest person to win an Oscar is in this category.  Tatum O’Neal was 10 when she won for Paper Moon.  Anna Paquin was 11 when she won for The Piano.  Patty Duke was 16 when she won for The Miracle Worker.  Goldie Hawn and Angelina Jolie were both 24.  Marisa Tomei was 28 when she won for My Cousin Vinny (yup), beating Vanessa Redgrave, Judy Davis, Joan Plowright and Miranda Richardson, four of the most estimable women who act in English.

So, by this logic, Michelle Williams should get it.  But she’s not, bless her.  I mean, this formula isn’t Newtonian physics.  It’s more like meteorology; sometimes no one sees the tornadoes coming, and sometimes Ruth Gordon or Judi Dench wins.   This year, all the zeitgeisty winds of fate say Viola Davis will get what’s due to her.  I mean, it is, she’s brilliant, but it’s also due to Michelle Williams as well, who was devastating in Manchester By The Sea.  But it’s going to be Viola…I have to stop writing this.  I may be costing Viola Davis an Oscar.

The oldest supporting actor nominee will win

This is really starting to sound alarmingly like predictions on who will win, so watch the theory tank.  But as the youngest person ever to win an Oscar is in the Best Supporting Actress category, the oldest person ever to win an Oscar is in this category—Christopher Plummer, at 82, for Beginners.  Jack Palance won this when he was 73, for City Slickers. Both Don Ameche (Cocoon) and John Gielgud (Arthur) were 77.  Only 4 people under 30 have ever won it.  George Burns (The Sunshine Boys) was 80 when he beat Brad Dourif (One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest) who was 25.  They waited until Martin Landau (Ed Wood) and Alan Arkin (Little Miss Sunshine) and Morgan Freeman (Million Dollar Baby) were old before they gave it to them.  So just saying.

One billion people will not watch the Oscars this year

Because they never have.  Yet still, someone always says it.  Last year, 34 million Americans watched the Oscars.  That was admittedly a low year.  The biggest, as far as records are kept, was 1998, at 55 million.  But that was the biggest by far: the high is usually 45 million.  That’s about 15% of the population, more or less.  And Americans presumably care more than most other countries.  So we’ll go for 45 million.  And let’s generously add 15 % of Canada, too, maybe 5 million.  I was going to give Australia 4 million, but checking the Hollywood Reporter, I see it’s about 780,000. Britain?  Just 1.08 million.  About the same as Japan, really, but still far more than in France, where the viewership is, like, hovering above a hundred thousand.   But there are 225 countries where the Oscars are broadcast somehow.  So that’s 947 millions split between the remaining 199 countries. So that’s, let’s see, that’s like 4.75 million per country.  But there aren’t that many TVs in all of Norway.  Or Iraq.  Or Ghana.  So the math isn’t looking good.  Even China, with more TVs than any other country, 400 million, has less than half a million tuning in.  365 thousand, actually.   And unless Eritreans or Liechtensteiners pick up the slack, which seems doubtful, since there are only, like, 2000 TVs in Eritrea, and 12 thousand in Liechtenstein, a billion just isn’t going to happen. So, let’s settle on 70 million. Which is still a lot.  But it’s not a billion.

That being said, Approximately 70 Million People Will Urinate at the Same Time

This will be during the President of the Academy’s speech.  The President has to give it, that’s their job, and it has to be bland and full of anodyne platitudes, because that’s also their job: diplomatic controversy avoidance.  So, the perfect time to go pee.  The average human bladder holds between 400 and 600ml.  But let’s settle on an average of say, 350 ml. of urine per urination, because some people may have just gone during the documentary short subject speech, or may just be having a precautionary urination, so their tank is only partially full.  So that’s 24.5 million liters of urine.  That’s about one and a half times more than what goes over Niagara Falls in any given minute.  Of urine.  During one speech.

The Oscars won't be “so white” this year

For what may be the first time in history, though I’m too lazy to look, a black person is nominated in all four acting categories in the same year.  And, in Best Supporting Actress, three of the five happen to be black.  Three of the best picture nominees also feature storylines centered on black people.  In the Best Documentary category, three out of five nominees also focused on black lives.  The Best Director category has a black director.  Three black writers are also nominated for writing.  For Best Cinematography, a black DP, Bradford Young, is nominated for Arrival.  That’s a first.  And in Best Editing, Joi McMillan is nominated for Moonlight.  And in Best Foreign Language Film, Tanna is nominated.   Even in the Best Live Action Short category, there is Silent Nights—it’s from Denmark, and covers not only biracial love, but illegal immigration.  There may be more, but I feel queasy ferreting out people by the colour of their skin instead of, you know, their talent.  It feels too much like being a Republican Voting Rights Commissioner, or like Donald Trump’s Chief Strategist and Senior Counsellor.  So I’ll stop.