On a Sunday night in February, I’m on the edge of my seat. The competition is as tough as it can be. After months of speculation, tonight is the night someone has to win. The clock is nearing 11 p.m. and I know it’s about to be over. I lean forward, excitement and nerves running through my veins.
“And the Oscar goes to…”
In that brief moment as the presenter reveals their inability to tear open an envelope, the most exciting Sunday night in February for me isn’t the Super Bowl, or even the Grammys. It’s the Oscars.
But then the winner is announced – a movie or person I most likely did not want or think deserved to win. I move on. I just wasted three and a half hours procrastinating on work to see something that has no effect on my life.
So why do I continuously watch the Academy Awards year after year?
This year is extra special for me because I am best friends with America’s current sweetheart, Jennifer Lawrence. Growing up in Kentucky, we lived in the same neighborhood, probably swam in the same pool and may have even been within 500 feet of each other.
If that doesn’t sound like friendship I don’t know what does. I will eagerly be awaiting my name to be thanked for helping Lawrence understand the true meaning of friendship from an early age.
Perhaps it is because I, a 20-year-old journalism student, feel obligated to watch the Oscars. They are the Holy Grail of cinema. By watching them, I am doing my duty to be an active and knowledgeable member of the School of Communications. At least that’s how I justify putting off work for it, anyway.
Maybe I just really want to see some drama. Let’s be honest, celebrities are a lot like us, except on steroids. They’re more attractive, more talented, more emotional, more everything – which is why there are so many reality shows devoted to pseudo-celebrities.
Who didn’t love seeing the eternally wholesome Taylor Swift throwing Adele some shade after her win at the Golden Globes, or the lovable, level-headed man that is Chris Brown remaining seated during Frank Ocean’s standing ovation at the Grammys? When Anne Hathaway and Daniel Day-Lewis inevitably win their Oscars, I want to see a bare-knuckled brawl break out among the losers.
Or is it the celebrities that are above the pomp and circumstance of it all? If you don’t know who they are, Joaquin Phoenix and Helena Bonham Carter – both atypical actors – couldn’t care less about the awards season or the red carpet. They stand out from the crowd (and in my heart) because they are so aloof and suave.
It’s time for a bit of honesty: This article was one excuse after another for me to justify watching the Oscars. At last year’s ceremony, I was as excited as the next underground blogger to see Meryl Streep triumph once again, while delivering the classiest acceptance speech in recent memory.
I watch the Academy Awards for exactly what they are: beautiful, high-strung people competing and crying about a small golden statue modeled after a naked man.