Two months ago, Julia Roberts held the Golden Globes audience captive as she presented the best musical or comedy trophy. In a couple of minutes of screen time, Roberts accepted the audience’s spontaneous standing ovation, laughed that famous laugh and poked self-deprecating fun at her own ego, and semi-randomly shouted out both Emma Stone and the film “Sorry, Baby.”
Where was this energy at the Oscars? Not the discursiveness, maybe — the Globes are, notoriously, a loose evening. But the star power. Excepting a couple of brief moments, the Oscars’ cohort of presenters tended to lack both wattage and eagerness to lean into making a moment. Producing the marquee awards show of the year, the Academy’s team would seem to have the opportunity to draw from a bevy of legends. Instead, though, the broadcast felt at times… small.
An awards ceremony is made or broken by its winners, and in this, the Oscars did all right for themselves: Despite the unfortunate absence of Sean Penn, who really was missed, the three acting winners present gave lovely and thoughtful speeches, as did Paul Thomas Anderson (three times over) and Ryan Coogler. But, on the margins, star power helps. When, at ceremony’s end, Nicole Kidman uncorked her “Moulin Rouge” chemistry with Ewan McGregor, the room seemed to light up. There was a similar energy when Barbra Streisand read a lovably intimate tribute to Robert Redford, then — surprise — found a handheld mic, and began to sing.
These moments felt scattered throughout a ceremony that could feel surprisingly budget, though. Conan O’Brien is a sharp and game host, but sketches featuring Josh Groban and Jane Lynch seemed more than a bit dated. (Sterling K. Brown, a recent Oscar nominee, fared better.) Missed opportunities studded the evening: As novel as it was to see Anna Wintour on the Oscars stage, and to see her without her sunglasses on, why do a “The Devil Wears Prada 2” promotional stunt without Meryl Streep — who hasn’t acted in a live-action film in five years, and whose appearance would have been a true event? Why do a tribute to the stars made by Rob Reiner without Tom Cruise, who got one of his signature roles as an emergent leading man in “A Few Good Men”? Could Leonardo DiCaprio, Timothée Chalamet, Jacob Elordi, or Emma Stone, all in the house, not have been induced to present?
Well, probably not, just as Cruise, who didn’t even show up to the Oscars when “Top Gun: Maverick” was up for best picture, is likely holding himself in reserve until his Alejandro González Iñárritu collaboration drops. This isn’t really a just-this-year problem, although one could point to various missed opportunities with easy-ish fixes at this ceremony. (Convincing Streep to promote her new film is one; forgoing a moment of ABC synergy and replacing “American Idol” judge Lionel Richie with Billie Eilish to present best original song might have been another.) The Oscars of my youth featured a front row of stars who were there just to be there, and marquee categories presented by genuine-article living legends.
Those few major stars who were there tended to be working in service of promotion: Sigourney Weaver, dropping a reference to “Aliens,” and Robert Downey Jr. both seemed diminished by the fact that they were booked in order to unsubtly promote new entries in the “Star Wars” and Marvel franchises. It’s true that Streep, had she been present, would have been doing the same — but Oscar fans might have been willing to take what they could get.
The season lags on too long and with far too many associated events nowadays; I’ve been struck to encounter, in Variety’s recent cover interview with Kidman, the actor lamenting the unrelenting pace of the modern campaign. “There were a few Q&As, but it wasn’t a lot,” she said, recalling her first nominations early in this century. “Now it starts in September and finishes in March. If you do Cannes, it starts in May. Like, what? How did that happen?”
How indeed — but a downstream result may be that, by the time Oscar staggers along, those stars who are not professionally obligated to be there take a pass, and those who are nominated want to be less visible, not more. The length of this past season saw Timothée Chalamet — provably a star both by his box-office receipts and for his power to stir deep emotion of all kinds — pilloried online both for comments he made and an ambient sense that prolonged exposure to this guy had bred contempt. Why would he ever present an award when the pace and relentlessness of the modern campaign has made disappearing the only viable career option?
This ceremony wasn’t the worst Oscar has ever done in trying to square the circle of movie stars’ reticence to do much: Given that they had Rose Byrne and Maya Rudolph in the room, a “Bridesmaids” reunion was a sharp idea, and we are only four years removed from a ceremony that, in a putative attempt to do things differently and open up the awards to new audiences, featured Sean Combs and Tony Hawk as presenters. But whether it’s by moving the ceremony earlier in the year or growing more imaginative about the ask they put to the Streeps and Cruises and Denzel Washingtons and Tom Hankses of the world, Oscar’s got to give us a little bit more. As the by-now cliché line from one of the evening’s brightest stars goes, viewers do turn to the Oscars for magic — and true star power is a magic that felt in short supply.
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‘ Some details of this article were extracted from the following source variety.com ’
