This morning in traction, with my head in a vise (an accident a few weeks ago, not worth mentioning), I was forced to listen in on a conversation between a man, let’s call him Joe, and my physical therapist. Joe had the appointment after mine. The Academy Awards of course was the subject of which they spoke. Joe didn’t like one particular film. He said: “La La Land was by far the worst movie I’ve ever seen in my life. The actors couldn’t sing or dance, why not get people who can. There was nothing good that movie. I should’ve walked out but I didn’t. I told the people who were in line for the next show too. Don’t waste your time or money, it’s a terrible movie…”
Hmm…Très intéressante (I often think in French…in my imaginary life I wear a flowery sheath dress, and chapeaux (hat) très chic …with a tiny dog asleep at my feet, I sit at an outdoor cafe where Hemingway rubbed elbows with F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein…I sip bordeaux and read Madame Bovary as French jazz plays softly in the background…the sun warms my skin and a light breeze blows…without mussing my sharply angled sleek black bob.)
Sorry, off topic. I really liked La La Land. It’s a feel good film, and I won’t bore you by going into the cinematography, music, and choreography, but I liked it, and I will see it again.
So I listened to Joe, this guy I couldn’t see, as he disparaged a movie that made me happy. I judged him. I creating a mental image of him, guessing what he must look like, what he was wearing, what he ate for breakfast, what body part was being worked on, and which way he leans politically. He went on and on, and listening to him was worse than the torture of traction.
In an attempt to tune him out, I thought about the Academy Awards. The night Hollywood is the center of the universe. The beautiful people in beautiful clothes…It was the same old same old- nominees, winner, repeat…
My favorite part of the show was the faux feud between Jimmy Kimmel and Matt Damon, but then I’m immature.
Damon had a bit of revenge mid show when at one point Kimmel walked toward the stage via the center aisle while speaking. He stumbled, turned to look at Damon who was sitting there on the aisle. Shrugging his shoulders Damon sheepishly said “what?” He had tripped him.
Then eventually the crescendo: best movie…Warren Beatty opened the card to read the winner, looked confused, showed it to Faye Dunaway and she read “La La Land”. During the usual thank you mom garbage, there was unusual frantic running back and forth behind the person at the microphone. I thought there was a security issue. It turned out that there had been a mistake. La La Land didn’t win, “Moonlight” did. I haven’t seen Moonlight, but musicals almost never win best picture, so I wasn’t surprised. It was the audience that was punished (ruthlessly) for the mistake, by virtue of having to suffer another set of thank you speeches from the real winners. Everyone was embarrassed.
Finally the buzzer sounded and I was released from traction…possibly six inches taller. On my way out I snarled at Joe for hating La La Land. (My imagination had been kind to him.) I suppose if there is a lesson here it would be that no matter how passionate I am about a subject, my convictions are not universally held. Not everyone thinks like me, and I have to let it go.
As far as the mixup last night, strangers argued on twitter about who made the shocking mistake, how it could have happened, who read the card, and so on—drama. In the vast scheme of things does it really matter? People make mistakes, and the world hasn’t spun off its axis because of this one. Hollywood isn’t really the center of the Universe, and other than the people involved in the films, who cares which one won best picture? It doesn’t change anything…sadly Donald Trump is still president.