Come Sunday and it will be the 84th and perhaps the most complicated if not convoluted edition of the Academy Awards ceremony. Instead of the conventional five nominations for Best Picture, there are seven films jostling for the most prized film honour in the world. The nominations, in terms of numbers, have risen steadily over the years and quite arbitrarily. But what the hell, let the show begin; its live telecast commands unrivalled TRP ratings globally.
In India, too, the Oscar ceremony is grabbing more eyeballs with every advancing year, which of course is in sync with the growing audience for Hollywood cinema particularly during the last decade. Not only are American films being released here simultaneously with their world premieres but are toting more voluminous ticket sales in the metro cities. Mumbai, Bengaluru, Hyderabad, Kolkata and New Delhi, in that order, are believed by trade pundits, to be the keenest international film viewers.
Action flicks like The Fast and the Furious, special effects bonanzas like Jurassic Park and Spider-man, a horde of 3-D entertainers and the big papa of them all, Titanic, have outcashed domestic products released during the same week.
Be it in the scripts, technique, acting styles, costumes and even award ceremonies, the Hollywood influence has intensified to the point of being slavishly imitative. For instance, no designer of an awards ceremony in India is beyond coming up with a presentation that has been adapted from the Oscar show. The trouble is that the more showy and in-your-face elements are imitated. Other key aspects — like the crisply-edited audio-visuals, the dress code and etiquette... well, in Bollywood, these can go for a long hike. Jeans, chappals, chewing gum, all’s cool on our myriad award stages. Also in the Oscars’ telecasts, intercuts of the responses of the stars in the audience aren’t repeated ad nauseam and irrelevantly.
Having been a part (accomplice?) of an awards mega-show for a decade in Mumbai, one can say with some authority that it’s the movie stars as much as the ground event organisers who make the events go awry — seriously awry. They will insist on knowing if they are winning an award. “Why should I clap for anyone else?” goes the logic. And the ones who do show up, with a shade of sporting spirit, on losing storm out and sulk for as long as their pouts and grimaces support them.
An award event, despite what the viewer sees on the screen, is a nightmare. Sponsors demand more exposure and prime seats. The entertainment segments are more often than not shot in advance (the invitation holder to the event feels cheated as a result), and the astronomical sums of money paid to the star performers multiply faster than their markets fees. Aah well, but then c’est la Bollywood.
Indeed the most exciting aspect of the Oscars is that it’s still a guessing game. There are favourites and there are surprises. Film papers, websites and television channel go hysterical, hazarding the names of the winners. So here are some personal favourites whom one would vote for: Best Picture: The Tree of Life (The Artist is likely to score); Best Director: Terrence Mallik (if there’s any justice in the world but it’s a tiny chance): Best Actor: Gary Oldman in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (George Clooney and Jean Dujardin are the hotties here), and Best Actress: Meryl Streep in The Iron Lady (unless the Academy’s going through a bad vote day). And The Help, socially concerned and a top-grosser to boot, has to be feted. Best Picture? Maybe. Best Actress? Again maybe. Best Supporting Actress? Definitely.
Whatever the personal pick, the Oscars shove every awardspotter to the edge of the couch. May, er, the best win.