I knew the fix was in. Yet I wanted to go to the awards, because after 17 years of living in Los Angeles my curiosity had gotten the best of me. I also understood that, love them or hate them, the Oscars matter. These days movies are a small piece of the market-share pie for the multinationals that own the studios. And the biggest movies are part of a consumption continuum, which begins as a comic book (or a best seller or video game) briefly becomes multiplex fodder (and toys and more video games) before being turned into home entertainment. Some of those movies are good, a lot are lousy, which is why the Oscars are important. It's a public ritual that sustains the romance that the business of movies isn't exclusively about product. [...]
Going to the Oscars also pulls back the curtain in other ways, for as much pleasure as there is in gaping at movie stars like Jeff Bridges, to see him kick back with his family at the official post-awards party, the Governors Ball, is a reminder of this man who, with no visible effort, creates characters like Rooster Cogburn in True Grit. For much of the year the American movie industry, and Hollywood in specific, works overtime to remind you that it churns out industrial products like Tron Legacy, another of Mr. Bridges's recent movies. But once a year the industry hosts a party, puts on its fancy clothes and invites the world to come, partly to sell the goods but also as a reminder that movies are also made by people for the pleasure and delight of those who like to watch.
Couldn't. Agree. More. And that's not even counting the pricelessness of the culture around it. I mean, is a world without Norm MacDonald's Oscar hate-tweets even worth living in? I'm counting down to next year already.
ยท Oscars' Red Carpet [NYT]