Obtained via time machine from February 9, 2020.
History was made at tonight’s Academy Awards, and while this had to do with diverse winners (where it counted, if you Twitter liberals still plan on raging), the unprecedented amount of upset victories will surely prove the more significant development. Thousands of awards betters around the world may be struggling to comprehend lost millions, and have perhaps vowed never again to speculate on the Oscars. My roommate’s sister’s hotshot producer fiancé gambled his Amalfi villa on Laura Dern.
Sorry! Until next year, Dern is just a nominee. Scarlett Johannson—who if not for Jojo Rabbit’s specialty size would have by now transformed from sex symbol into storybook staple in the American consciousness—tied for Best Supporting Actress with Florence Pugh, a new star too quickly crowned (I can barely see her ego from here!), who is of course on track for a storied career and almost stole the film for which she won. The 1969 ceremony produced the last acting tie, between Barbara Streisand and Katherine Hepburn.
Saoirse Ronan, like Pugh, coasted on Little Women’s multiple nominations to secure Best Actress, and of course as a highlight clip the Academy chose the third-act monologue that features in the film’s theatrical trailers. Old white men still comprising a good chunk of the Academy’s voting population have probably seen this trailer, but not Little Women. Ronan’s win should mean that the Academy has overcome its obsession with mimicry (uh huh, Renée) and uncanny immersion (make-up shouldn’t act for you, Charlize), as both Zellweger and Theron had better odds than Ronan going into the night.
Antonio Banderas won Best Actor for his work in the late-period Almodóvar gem Pain and Glory, usurping precursor champion Joaquin Phoenix, who deserves an Oscar, eventually, but for a role involving real introspection. Phoenix’s Arthur Fleck is all problems and no fun, one of many manifestations of the mystique-averse, self-congratulating pseudo-psychology that plagues Joker. Banderas, on the other hand, embodied a melancholy and history that resonated by not always making sense, his emotional instincts grounded in that decades-long creative partnership with a Spanish auteur, which is all one really needs for Oscar glory, if you ask me.
Another surprise came via Brad Pitt’s victory for Supporting Actor (he played Cliff Booth in Once Upon a Time In Hollywood). Just kidding—Pitt has been a lock since summer. But he’s dreamy and nonchalant and surfer-chic and off-the-cuff (don’t tell me his acceptance jokes were scripted), and “underdog” serves my adverbial narrative better than “household-name shoo-in.” Play along.
In the screenplay categories, Noah Baumbach won for his original Marriage Story script (Parasite and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood had been favored), which he told the New York Times was “personal,” but not “autobiographical,” though Baumbach’s ex-wife Jennifer Jason Leigh apparently moved to Los Angeles with their son to file for divorce.
Greta Gerwig, to whom Baumbach is now married, must not contend with questions of autobiography, because her film is based on a 150-year-old novel. Gerwig took home Adapted Screenplay for Little Women, whose chronology she cut up and reordered like a fashion magazine at a craft party.
Gerwig’s screenplay win provided—in addition to Pitt–one of few expected outcomes, but then led to what will undoubtedly be remembered as one of the most controversial moments in Oscars history. Mirroring the 2017 Best-Picture snafu, a category reordering meant that the Directing Oscar was presented immediately after Adapted Screenplay, and the Academy—still reveling in what I guess could be called Marc Platt’s practice speech—placed envelopes for each category on both sides of the stage.
Beyoncé, shamefully snubbed for her Lion King music but on hand to present the award, received a second copy of the Adapted Screenplay envelope, and mistakenly announced Gerwig as Best Director for Little Women. Unlike with La La Land and Moonlight, which were both nominated for Best Picture in 2017, very little confusion arose (every 2020 directing nominee has a penis). Beyoncé acknowledged the error, but decided to give Gerwig the Oscar anyway, and Gerwig gracefully and modestly accepted. This makes her the first person—female or male—to win an Oscar for which they were not nominated. It also marks the first Oscar voted on exclusively by Beyoncé.
The shock decision shadowed the Best Picture result, which, with Parasite’s triumph, marked the first such win for a South Korean film and for nascent indie studio Neon. Parasite counted as an upset, just barely, because 1917—the well-made but inferior war epic—swept the Director’s Guild, Producer’s Guild and Golden Globe awards. Parasite won Best Ensemble with the Screen Actors Guild, however, which is an equally important bellwether. It really was a wonderful moment, that sigh of relief at the Academy’s recognition, feared for a fluke in the post-Moonlight years, of bright and overwhelming achievement, populist yet masterfully crafted, wholly original and international and hopefully influential for the next generation of filmmakers in America, born within or without its borders.
In related news, the Academy announced minutes before the beginning of the ceremony that the Sound Editing and Mixing categories had been merged into one, resulting in a six-nominee field. The Original Song Oscar was also abruptly discontinued, though 2020 nominees were promised premier entry to the new Academy Museum, which is scheduled to open in June of 2031. Diane Warren’s body was found near the Dolby Theatre at around 5:15 p.m. local time, in an apparent suicide.
Fergus Campbell is a sophomore in Columbia College.