So this is Oscar. And what have you done?
Speaking for myself, lately, not a hell of a lot. In the three weeks that this column has been on hiatus – apologies to the handful of you who missed it – it’s remarkable how little the O-word has been on my mind.
Yes, I’ve been busy: a trip to the Berlinale here, a stretch of scriptwriting there, the occasional interference of an actual personal life in between. But even if I hadn’t been, and even if the estimable Nathaniel Rogers hadn’t borrowed most of my remaining awards-talk energy for his Oscar Symposium, I doubt I would have found much that was fresh or consequential to fill this space.
I’m not alone. In an awkwardly scheduled season that saw the most crucial precursors announced before Oscar nomination day, and nary a shift in the frontrunners since, Phase Two of the season has amounted to little more than a month of journalistic thumb-twiddling, while most of the nominees wearily float above it all. Remember when the Oscars took place in late March, or even April? Today’s surfeit of Oscar bloggers would have died in wait.
It’s almost enough to make you admire the brazen transparency with which the L.A. Times attempted to drum up drama in the latter stages of voting, rather like a cranky toddler, bored of behaving himself at the supermarket, throwing a tantrum in the checkout line.
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