Allow me to set the mood. You are dressed in the most smashing of outfits, with the designer’s name written in smudged black ink on your left hand (soon to be imprinted on the ass of your Oscar statue). Exquisite, yes, but very uncomfortable. It is, however, that very discomfort shooting up your backside that is giving you the desirable posture the frenetic Oscar cams will catch when they pan to you as the nominees in your category are announced – not that your name won’t be called, don’t be ridiculous. (Though practicing one’s losing face in the mirror weeks ahead is encouraged, as it could make for excellent bathroom chitchat.)
The moment your name is called – by a person with an aesthetically pleasing face whose name you can’t remember now – your body breaks into a sudden sweat. Yes. Finally. This is your moment, entirely a product of your own ruthless engineering.
But as tradition dictates, and as the photogenic audience around you expects, you must give a speech that not only highlights Your Moment, but reminds the world that you are humble. The most humble.
Try to avoid molesting the presenter, as you don’t want anything overshadowing the next minute or two of solid gold that is to come spewing out of your mouth. Avoid any gestures such as salutes or fist pumps, as context can often be lost in the kerfuffle and tulle of one’s dress.
First to thank: your parents, those people who provided the sperm and the egg and had the good sense to put them together and ultimately produce the sort of hands that were born to hold a gold statue of a naked man. Sure, they rarely supported your dream, but perhaps they afforded you that goldmine of a rags-to-riches story – the one that has offered you the gravitas you so needed in such a nepotism-fuelled industry.
You may do well to thank all the other nominees in your category, who may be more seasoned than you, but are certainly not as young and fresh
Next, at least one Weinstein is in order. Preferably before God, Jesus and all the prophets of all the religions. Harvey is your best bet, especially if you’ve decided to brave it and sport a very over Marchesa gown, designed by his wife Georgina Chapman. (Although, if you are wearing Marchesa, you likely are not planning on winning any awards.)
If you’ve been noted for being particularly hungry during this awards season, having campaigned with a vigorous aggression and perhaps even resorting to category fraud, you may do well to thank all the other nominees in your category, who may be more seasoned than you, but are certainly not as young and fresh, having reprised garbled versions of the same clownish character for the last decade. Do away with naming each one – lest you forget a name or the camera catches an expression that becomes more GIF-able than your speech.
It’s worth mentioning the co-star with the highest wattage in your cast, even if you didn’t share a scene for more than five minutes. They taught you so much. Frankly, just being near them and being given the opportunity to observe their craft was reward enough. Don’t forget all the dutiful soldiers in the crew, toiling away behind the scenes. I mean, they have families.
While we’re on the subject of soldiers: this is a truly political time, and you mustn’t be foolish and miss out on your chance to make a Statement, capital S. And wow, look at the diversity in the room. It’s utterly blinding! And, oh, did you just catch John Legend’s eyes at the La La Land table just now? Cue smile.
Related
- Why the Oscars — with their lack of awareness and diversity, and abundance of mediocrity — don’t matter
- Why the Oscars matter, as a lens on culture and a resource for film appreciation
- #OscarsSoWoke: This year’s Academy Awards are bound to be political, and that’s not a bad thing
Oh dear, it looks like it’s time to wrap up. You somehow managed to stretch the allotted 45 seconds into several minutes – you really are a winner. But yes, you just realized you’ve forgotten to mention your long-suffering spouse, but hey, this is Your Moment, and who knows how eligible you may be now.
Pay no heed when the teleprompter begins flashing and the band starts playing – well-timed speeches are rarely remembered. You’ll do better being gently tugged or better yet dragged offstage as tears pour down your porcelain face, and you reek of passion so strongly, it may as well be your signature scent. In fact, that’s not a bad idea…
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