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| The Cinedome 7 West in Newark, Calif. It always looked like that. |
The 78th Academy Awards
Ceremony date: March 5, 2006
Best Picture: Crash
Best Director: Ang Lee for Brokeback Mountain
Best Actor: Phillip Seymour Hoffman for Capote
Best Actress: Reese Witherspoon for Walk the Line
This one might go on a little long, and not just because it
featured possibly the most notorious ending of any Oscars telecast not
involving an envelope snafu. Rather, my memories of much of this show are quite
vivid as it was the first ceremony for which I had seen all the Best Picture
nominees beforehand and the first broadcast for which I attended a party, thus
cementing the Academy Awards as an annual tradition in my life.
So, let’s get it out of the way right at the top: I have no
problem with Crash as a Best Picture winner. I was thrilled at the time
– though shocked like everyone else – and I remain completely at peace with
that choice. It is probably my least popular Oscars opinion that Crash
is a worthy recipient of the top prize and is a better film than Brokeback
Mountain, which I find overdirected and dull, despite some stellar
performances. Ranking the Best Picture nominees, I have Crash second
behind Capote and followed by Good Night and Good Luck, Brokeback,
and Munich.
This brings me to the second point: my conscious decision to
see all of the nominees. This was my senior year of high school, and as a
teenager is wont to do, I was spouting opinions with little to nothing to back
them up. This time, it was about the Oscars. A friend rightly called me out,
saying that I really could not have a valid opinion without having seen the
films. So, rather than shut up about it, which was probably the point of the
chastisement in the first place, I decided to see them all.
Crash famously came out early in the year, and I had
seen it on DVD with my dad. It belongs in the pantheon of Best Picture winners
my dad and I can enjoyably watch together, a group that also includes Forrest
Gump, Rain Man, Platoon, and Rocky. The other one is The
Departed, which we will talk about next time. I remember liking Crash,
enjoying its interconnected story structure, and overall appreciating the
message, which most would call facile today but which hits the targets at which
it aims. One down.
When Brokeback Mountain was in theaters, I was 17 and
had a car and a permit, but I was not really driving anywhere. I still walked
to school, and to go to the movies after class, I hopped on the bus. On the way
back, I hopped on the wrong bus and ended up in a different city entirely. I
then had to take a train back to my neighboring hometown. I had one of those
old Nokia flip phones and pretty much only used it to call for rides home. My
dad kindly obliged. Two down.
Next, two birds with one stone on a weekend. I saw
advertised in the paper – yeah, we still got movie times in the paper then, at
least at my house – that the Cinedome 7 was doing a double feature of Capote
and Good Night and Good Luck. What luck! I had never been to a double
feature before and was excited at the prospect. My dad dropped me off on a
rainy Saturday afternoon, and I told him to come back to get me in about five
hours.
Nervously, I approached the ticket counter and asked for the
double feature ticket. The box office attendant did not seem to know what I was
talking about and gave me one ticket for Good Night and Good Luck. After
the film, I asked an usher what to do about the double feature and was told
just to hang out and the second movie would start. Even though the double
feature had been advertised, because both films were not on the ticket, it
somehow still felt like stealing. Nevertheless, I caught the second film and
wrote Capote on the back of the ticket in pen for record-keeping
purposes. Four out of five.
The next weekend, the same theater was hosting the two-for-one
bill of Munich and Syriana. This time, I told my dad to come back
in six hours. Now, I was a pro at the whole double-feature thing and calmly
passed the 15-minute break between movies by listening to my MP3 player, which
held an impressive 32 songs (depending on the length of the songs, of course).
The Cinedome 7 West was a truly run-down relic of
theatergoing days past. My grandfather and I had seen Walk the Line
there a couple months before and one of the sound channels was just out – not
an ideal way to experience a musical. But, as with all crummy things from our
youths, I loved it.
Along with the Cinedome 8 East, it was the primary theater
of my childhood. It had an arcade that I still think about and which makes me
sad realizing movie theaters do not really have arcades anymore. I know why,
but you know, nostalgia and all. The Cinedomes deserve their own piece someday,
but these four movies in eight days were really my last hurrah with the great
movie houses of my youth. They were not much, but they were always there when I
needed them. Five out of five. I was ready for the show.
My school friend Maddie, with whom I took theater and
business math, was interested in the Oscars but even more interested in party
planning. It was a passion of hers, and we made a pact while sitting in that
business math class that if I ever got to make a movie, she would plan the wrap
party. Those are the kind of pacts you make with high-school friends. I wonder
if she remembers at all.
Corny as it probably seems, I still have the invite to that
party saved, tucked away in its original envelope along with other mementos
from my early years of Oscar watching – newspaper clippings of the nominees,
computer printouts of my predictions and wishes, etc. All of that is kept
inside of the front cover of Jim Plaza and Gail Kinn’s “The Academy Awards: The
Complete Unofficial History,” a reference book that served as my film bible in
the pre-internet days. I had the post-2004 edition, which included everything
up through Million Dollar Baby. Not sure what I am waiting for to buy
the revised, updated version. Someday, perhaps.
The party was a delight, featuring friends who cared about
the movies and others who cared about being places their friends were. We made
predictions, ate food and candy, drank sodas, and generally enjoyed each
other’s company. The awards proceeded apace, culminating in Ang Lee winning
Best Director for Brokeback Mountain. All was going according to plan.
Then, Jack Nicholson read out Crash for Best Picture and all hell broke
loose. Thankfully, Twitter was a long way off from existence.
I cheered and proclaimed that the Academy had made the right
choice. The same friend who chastened me into seeing all of the nominees before
commenting reminded me I had already proclaimed Capote the best of the
nominees. I hit reverse and proclaimed Crash the right winner “among the
nominees that had a chance,” and so joined that eternal dance of movie
punditry. I have not stopped dancing since.
Quick notes: I cannot let this year pass without
commenting on the Best Actor win for Philip Seymour Hoffman, whose death still
hurts so much. I loved him even then, and he remains one of the best ever to do
it. … We all have vivid memories of Three Six Mafia winning Best Original Song
for “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp” from Hustle and Flow. One of the
great weird Oscar moments. … Still remember George Clooney accepting his Best
Supporting Actor statue with the immortal, “I guess I’m not winning Director.”
A legend.
Next time: Off to college for me, and Martin Scorsese
finally gets his due with The Departed.
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