Thanks to the new Personal Video Recorder that came with our family's satellite TV system, I was able to watch this year's four-hour Academy Awards ceremony with a minimum of inconvenience and a maximum of efficiency and entertainment. Thanks to its ability to pause, rewind and fast-forward live TV, I was able to eat dinner and pack for the drive up to Hanover at the same time. I could pause for bathroom breaks, kitchen runs and dispensing computer advice to my mother, who was doing her tax returns at the same time. I could also fast forward through commercials and Joan Rivers, freeze frame on Julia Roberts' smile and rewind and replay every time "Lord of the Rings" failed to win. Bwahahahahah!
Unfortunately for ABC, most of the schlubs watching the Oscars didn't have PVRs. Predictably, the award show scored its lowest Nielsen ratings ever. Although it may seem a shock to the producers of the show, dressing Whoopi Goldberg in tights, lowering her from the rafters and having her yell "Come and get me, boys!" did not do much to sell the show. Nor did the presenters' witty and extemporaneous reading of lines that their interns put on the TelePrompTers bring tension and spontaneity to the show. The worst offense, however, was the tremendous rift between the Motion Picture Academy's definition of "quality" and the average person's definition of "quality," failing to induce average people from switching from the Kurt Russell movie that was on CBS the same time.
The first two problems can't be solved. Get rid of Whoopi and you bring in Billy Crystal. Get rid of Billy Crystal and you bring in Robin Williams. I think we're all better off with the "least worst" option. And we can't turn such intellectual heavyweights as Reese Witherspoon, Hugh Grant and Will Smith into Conan O'Brien or even George Carlin, at least not anytime soon. But we can solve the third problem -- the "quality gap." The Motion Picture Academy seems to think that it alone -- a collection of largely liberal, East and West Coast, disproportionately white, Jewish and European people -- represents the final word on what American motion pictures ought to be. I personally think that "A.I.," "Rush Hour 2," "Enemy at the Gates" and "Zoolander" were the best films of the year. Yet somehow we see movies like "A Beautiful Mind," "Moulin Rouge" and "Monster's Ball" up there.
But at the same time, you can't have average Americans decide everything about which movies get Oscars. If it were up to the people, "Titanic" would not only win Oscars in 1997, but in 1998, 1999 and maybe 2000. Arnold Schwarzenegger might have a Best Actor award. Heaven forbid, if kids had access to the Internet in 1999, then Jar Jar Binks could have one. And what if the Russian movie were clearly inferior but the French engineered some Byzantine play that stripped a Canadian movie of an Oscar? That wouldn't do. So I propose a sort of three-fifths system where the Motion Picture Academy allows Internet voting to count for about 40 percent of the Oscar race. That way, if the Academy really liked some film like "The English Patient" in 1996, they could theoretically come together and defeat the threat from "Jerry Maguire." Unlikely, though.
Audience participation could greatly enhance the appeal of the Oscar process and ceremony. Who cares about categories like "Best Foreign Short Film" or "Best Documentary Feature?" We know that no matter who wins, some foreign guy with bad posture will come up on stage in a bad tux with a bad haircut and tearfully thank people that nobody heard of for making a film that virtually nobody saw. Let's have categories that drive movie producers to real excellence in entertainment. I want to see a category for "Funniest Comedy." I want to see "Best Moment where Grown Men can Cry." I want to see "Most Elaborate and Realistic Battle Scene." I'd like to see the Oscars combine with the Raspberries so that the worst movies of the year could be highlighted for further scorn.
And we should introduce tension into the whole ceremony. Let's have the presenter announce the award for some no-name category and have the TV cameras focus on either the real winner or a persuasive actor as one or the other walks up on stage and gives an "acceptance speech" that would be challenged in public, rightfully or wrongfully. Wouldn't that be great? Heck, I know what would be even better: Let's have random categories switch from "Best" to "Worst" as the recipient is on stage. For instance, as Jennifer Connelly appeared on stage to claim her Best Supporting Actress Oscar, the presenter could announce that her award was really for "Worst Supporting Actress." Give the audience rotten vegetables and you've got all the ingredients for knock-down hilarity!
I'm rambling. I know I'm rambling. But my point remains valid. Movies that people like -- and reward with their box office dollars -- are never recognized for doing the thing that movies are supposed to do -- entertain the majority of the population and cater to common themes. Instead, they seem to march to their own drummer, whose music is foreign to America. This self-appointed group brings disproportionate recognition to movies and provides incentives to crowd out true entertainment. Most Americans don't care about cinematography or sound editing, or compare movies one against the other. Most of us just go for a good time.
