Oscars and unfair things

The Oscars this year was unexpected. There was real emotion in the air, not the fake chatter that often mimics the profession the show celebrates. There was Patricia Arquette asking for equal pay, and Meryl Streep shouting Yes! from the front row. There was Inarritu pleading for decent behavior towards immigrants from a country OF immigrants. There was Graham Moore winning for Best Adapted Screenplay for “The Imitation Game”, saying:

“Alan Turing never got to stand on a stage like this and look out at all of these disconcertingly attractive faces. And I do. And that’s the most unfair thing I think I’ve ever heard. So in this brief time here, what I want to use it to do is to say this: When I was 16 years old, I tried to kill myself, because I felt weird and I felt different, and I felt like (I) did not belong. And now I’m standing here, and so I would like this moment to be for that kid who’s out there who feels weird or feels different or feels she doesn’t fit in anywhere. Yes you do. I promise you do.”

In a world filled with unfair things, this moment of honesty was not just moving but highlighted the most absurd facet of human civilization, this ostrich-in-the-sand outlook about an issue that has been around since the dawn of our benighted species, is still apparent in nature and is nobody’s business but that of the parties concerned, except when there’s paedophilia or something involved. You see, those who don’t rail against gay love can at the same time be activists against real evil. Didn’t know that, did you.

This weird problem with homosexuality will one day go the way of the Berlin Wall but until then, people will die, not just be ostracized and bullied and sneered at, and for nothing but other people’s perceptions.

Anti-Racism seems another lost cause if it is still being fought against in, of all places, America. It seems so basic but even in a country which is so good at PR that many still believe it stands for justice, in a country like this, racism is endemic in 2015. So when Common and John Legend sang ‘Glory’, we all wept. (Aside, for Mr Inarritu: Yes, in a country of immigrants, other immigrants should be made welcome, but this is only true if you are a White immigrant, Aryan white.)

You can’t even argue about why racism makes no sense; religion makes no sense but who has ever won an argument over it with the faithful?

What was shocking, in terms of Oscar glory or lack thereof, was Michael Keaton losing Best Actor to Eddy Redmayne, (marvelous I grant you but hasn’t Daniel Day-Lewis already been there, done that?). He didn’t leave a trail of stars which will never reappear the way Keaton did in “Birdman”. But you know, a world filled with unfair things…..

Now onto what really mattered, the dresses. Yeah, sorry, this is the most one-sided, unfair thing of all because men are just boring in matters sartorial.

BEST-DRESSED

Jennifer Lopez in Elie Saab, looking like a statuette herself in those golden hues with accompanying blushing tones.

Scarlett Johansson in Versace, with green stones around her neck that looked ocean-gathered and a hairstyle that hinted at wild, wild child.

Jennifer Aniston wearing Versace that was so simple and elegant and perfect for her because it glowed and showcased a real woman’s body, which really is what Aniston is all about, realness. This is a woman who is so warm that she saturates everything around her, even hugging Emma Stone in gleeful abandon. Can’t imagine another actress on the Red Carpet doing something like that.

Gwyneth Paltrow, who consciously coupled with Ralph&Russo and looked pretty-out-of-orbit-in-a-good-way in pink.

Lady Gaga’s performance (and interaction with What-a-Dame Julie Andrews) was the talk of the town, rightfully so, (um, I thought she was a performer not a singer), but dear me, that Alaia dress. Like someone had dropped miles of heavy material in a corner of the room which then took on a life form. About as bad as the curtain Chloe Moritz wore and the origami wrapped around Viola Davis. Tut tut.

But the last two words on my mind are simply: Ed Norton. What a way to play; his “Birdman” piece was virtuoso. Also, I would date him.