Liam Lacey: So it's Oscar time again, Johanna, when the stars of fashion and movies converge in our living rooms for a four-hour love fest of glamour and gaffes -- maybe even some eloquence. What's your ritual? Do you stay up for the whole thing?
Johanna Schneller: I need to have people over to watch with me -- it all seems too sad otherwise -- but they have to understand that they may speak only during commercials and the few seconds when winners are making their way to the podium. We watch all awards, every word, the better to formulate our wisecracks. I'm touched that you mention gaffes. I feel the whole thing is so overproduced now, they no longer occur. I miss them. You?
Lacey: My ritual is that my wife and daughters watch intently and I listen but pretend not to watch because I'm above it. I walk the dog during key awards, pick up magazines, and occasionally tune in when I'm told there's a major cleavage display or fashion horror.
I was thinking about the tradition because there's a lot that's not traditional this year. The theme of the set is "old Hollywood glamour," but the same guy, Roy Christopher, has designed it for 17 years, and I'm sure it will be as incomprehensible as usual. Otherwise this is sort of the alt Oscars. The host, Jon Stewart, is a political satirist. Four out of the five nominated movies are low-budget indie films, and there's not a blockbuster to be seen.
Schneller: I think it's hilarious when people talk about "old Hollywood glamour" in a culture that thinks Paris Hilton is glamorous, and about a theatre that's two minutes old. I recently stayed in a hotel at Hollywood and Highland that overlooked the Kodak Theater (and the giant mall next to it). I swear the whole thing is made of plastic.
Lacey: Oh, those Hollywood phonies.
Schneller: It is interesting how low the grosses have been for the nominated films this year. The tastes of filmmakers (and critics) versus filmgoers seem very far apart. I can't help but think it reflects the general sociopolitical divide in the U.S.
So many films this year are about expanding one's empathy and being rigorous with the truth, which are supposed to be heartland values. Yet no one in the heartland is buying it. I think this will be a low-rated Oscars. The show is always at risk of imploding from all the navel-gazing and self-congratulation. This year, with all the noble, unprofitable work, they all might spontaneously combust.
Lacey: I've always been impressed by the coincidence that real stars are just big balls of gas. The critic in me favours low-budget, grown-up films, but the TV viewer in me dreads those acceptance speeches. This year, for example, there's a campaign called "Red Carpet, Green Cars" in which 25 stars will drive up in hybrids. Wear a million-dollar diamond necklace, pick up your $150,000 goodie bags, but don't do anything that smacks of gaudy consumption like take a limo.
Schneller: I'm also not sure this generation of Hollywood stars even understands what glamour is. George Clooney got the glam '50s, black-and-white look right in Good Night, and Good Luck, and he has potential -- house on Lake Como, Clark Gable-type handsomeness. Still, he can't quite graduate from being a Midwestern basketball-playing boy.
A lot of the nominees look like kids -- Joaquin Phoenix, Jake Gyllenhaal, Heath Ledger, Keira Knightley. Together, they are 22 years old. Rachel Weisz fills the annual hot-pregnant-mama slot. I'm holding out hope for glamour from Reese Witherspoon, Terrence Howard and Amy Adams (of Junebug), who has a fabulous, old-Hollywood look.
Lacey: That kind of traditional glamour is what the heartland expects from Hollywood, but contemporary actors see as inauthentic. To get an acting nomination, George Clooney had to go grey, gain 30 pounds and grow a beard. Even I could do that.
Instead of glamour, as Paris Hilton might say, we've got hotness. Jessica Alba, for example, is a presenter this year and I'm guessing it's not for her body of work.
The other presenters are Will Smith, Clint Eastwood, Meryl Streep, Sandra Bullock, Keanu Reeves and -- the Debbie Reynolds Spurned Wife winner -- Jennifer Aniston. You see any opportunities for interesting trouble?
Schneller: To be honest, I think the person most likely to bust out is Meryl. Do you remember when she won a Golden Globe for Adaptation? In the middle of her thank-yous, she reached into her shirt and readjusted her breasts for maximum cleavage. I had always adored her; after that, I worshipped her.
Lacey: That's busting out alright. Do you have a favourite god-awful Oscar moment? Mine was during the infamous 1989 Oscars when Allan Carr, the producer of Grease, did the show, and Rob Lowe sang Proud Mary in the Snow White production number. My personal highlight came when Carr said, "And now the most fabulous word in show business -- Cher!" I laughed so hard I toppled my chair and bruised my tailbone.
Schneller: I have fond memories of the year the song Maniac from Flashdance was nominated, and it was performed with full orchestra, trumpets blaring, and dancers in ripped aerobics wear leaping around. Then there was the year Savion Glover tap-danced to the score from Schindler's List. This year there is potential for one song to be excruciating: the krunk anthem It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp from Hustle & Flow. I'm sure all the studio suits will be bobbing their heads, feelin' it.
Lacey: You think maybe the song will work its way into Jon Stewart's opening monologue?
Schneller: Perhaps he'll rap throughout the entire show. With so many of the big awards considered locks -- Reese and Rachel, Phil and Ang -- and so many of the actors largely unknown to the public, we're going to need something to keep the conversation lively. Hollywood itself is so split. The highest-grossing film last week, Madea's Family Reunion, is by a Hollywood outsider, and represents an audience who could care less about Oscar.
Any award you're looking forward to?
Lacey: Well, the monologue is a must because it's the closest thing to a gladiator experience on TV. An entertainer comes out on the stage in this theatre filled with the most powerful people in show-business, with another 40-million people watching at home judging that routine line by line. As for the speeches, I'm just looking forward to someone completely going crazy in that French-kiss-your-sibling way, and I'd like to see Philip Seymour Hoffman win so we'll see him in more and different parts. I read that Capote got its financing only after Chris Cooper agreed to be in it following his Oscar win for Adaptation. So an Oscar means clout, not just cachet.
Schneller: Yes, you get a shot at roles you otherwise wouldn't -- Adrien Brody in King Kong, anyone?
Will Hoffman say anything risqué? Will anyone? Four straight actors are nominated for playing gay or transgendered roles. Amy Adams is nominated for playing a red-state naïf, Terrence Howard a Memphis pimp.
Syriana takes on big oil, North Country stares down sexual harassment, The Constant Gardener decries drug companies, Good Night, and Good Luck challenges conglomerate-owned news, and Crash addresses racism in L.A. itself. Will someone -- please! -- write a speech that speaks to these issues?
Lacey: Even if the speeches are predictable and muddled, I think this may be the year Oscar comes out politically. The conservative critics are right: There is a Hollywood liberal agenda, so why not commit to it? As Brokeback Mountain shows, denial's not functional. Even Steven Spielberg, who's no firebrand, recently talked about Hollywood's political shift in Bush's second term, so something's stirring. Schneller: My No. 1 pet peeve is that people don't write speeches. They say it's based on superstition -- don't challenge the Academy gods -- but I think it's laziness. You have the world's attention. Prepare something worth saying!
Peeve No. 2: No one but me (and their moms) care who wins the screenplay awards. It all starts with the script, people. And the screenplay races are always genuinely interesting, honouring the 10 truly best films of any year. Instead, they've become second-run slots to award "worthy" films that will win nothing else. This year, that will be Crash -- unless it also pulls the upset of the decade and steals best picture from Brokeback. Liam, your predictions and peeves?
Lacey: I warn you I have an almost perfect track record of failure. My guess is five or six awards for Brokeback Mountain -- picture, director, cinematography, score and adapted screenplay. The questionable one, for me, is supporting actor, but I think Giamatti for Cinderella Man and not Gyllenhaal. Otherwise, as you've noted, Hoffman for actor, Witherspoon for actress, Weisz for supporting actress. Also, Wallace & Gromit for animated feature, Tsotsi for foreign film and March of the Penguins for doc.
My pet peeve is the foreign-film category. It's tied up with national committees and arcane rules, and consistently the best movies from around the world aren't represented. Ideally, I don't think the category should even exist -- a film is a film -- but then there would be even less representation of non-American films.
Schneller: Your picks and mine are frighteningly similar, though I'm going with Clooney for supporting actor. Bettors, note that one of the animated shorts, 9, is being turned into a feature by Tim Burton.
Happy watching, Liam. I hope your dog can hold it 'til after midnight, and that no one ever tells me how many calories there are in Fritos and clam dip.
Lacey: Well, it's a marathon and you need your strength, especially if the party turns into a political rally. I think it takes less energy when you pretend not to watch.
Schneller: But what fun would that be?
Liam Lacey
Johanna Schneller