Oscar 2012: the Aftermath

Best Actress and Best Actor

Less than a week after the most epic of parties, with the red carpet all rolled up, and the stars all (hopefully) back at work, here are some random notes on this year’s Academy Awards aftermath. I’m not concentrating on the actual show itself, but discussing the ultimate question: what does it all mean?

Let’s discuss the success of The Artist. It wasn’t a clean sweep, Lord of the Rings-style. It was more like a respectable showing, a la Chicago in 2002. This doesn’t mean that studios are rushing to make eclectic projects like this one. Harvey Weinstein is not overcome with a sudden urge to bring back silent movie en masse. What this does mean, as a business model, is that the major studios and boutique shops (like The Weinstein Company and Focus Features) will continue to attend film festivals and acquire domestic distribution rights to worthy projects, dress them up in critical praise, and create Oscar campaigns for them. No, the major studios are still producing Transformers sequels and busily re-booting tried-and-true franchise options. (Unless you’re Christopher Nolan or Steven Soderbergh and can do whatever the hell you want.)

Jean Dujardin will continue to be a star in France, and his next few projects might get limited release in North America, but people here may forget he exists. The real test of longevity will be how he navigates his career without TWC’s direct involvement. He’s charmed everyone by appearing on talk shows, participating in that hilarious Funny or Die video, and he’s sexy to boot. He will now have to decide if an American project might entice him and he can become a domestically-recognized movie star, or if he’ll continue in French films exclusively. He may want to call fellow French Oscar winner Marion Cotillard, for tips. She’s continued working in their native France while also taking on strong supporting roles in such prestige projects as Inception, Nine and Midnight in Paris, all of which were nominated for or won Oscars. Dujardin will have to choose wisely, and I can’t wait to see what he does next. In the interim, it’s likely that his next film Les Infideles, which caused some controversy in France due to its outrageous movie poster, will be given a local release.

Now that Meryl’s won an Oscar for her outstanding performance in The Iron Lady – a film I did not love but in which she was tremendous – the pressure’s now off to give her a third Oscar, something people have been buzzing about since at least 1985. She still has more nominations than any performer, living or dead, and as many Oscars as Jack Nicholson and Ingrid Bergman, one away from Katherine Hepburn’s all-time record. However, the next person in line for the Best Actress award will be none other than fellow nominee Glenn Close. Seeing Close on the red carpet for the first time in years, looking beautiful but also age-appropriate given the lack of any (obvious) plastic surgery, should remind the Academy to take notice of the outstanding work she’s done since her last Oscar nomination 23 years ago. She’s since won two Tony Awards and three Emmy Awards (and countless nominations) for, amongst others, a political stage play, a big-budget Broadway musical smash, noted miniseries and excellent ongoing work for serious, prestigious television series such as Damages and The Shield. Heck, Damages just might be her signature role and may outclass almost about everything she’s ever done in film. She’s now lost at the Oscars six times. She is due. Her next project is Thérèse Raquin, currently in pre-production. This is an adaptation of an oft-performed Emile Zola play and novel, smells of prestige, and is due out next year. Close for Oscar, 2014? It could happen.

Book of the Year: “Bossypants” by Tina Fey

I have officially given up writing my memoirs. I have thrown out all electronic drafts, random pieces of paper with quotes, notebooks half-filled with remembrances and deleted the backups. I have done this because no matter how much I try to conjure a hilarious, wise but pointed and still very true memoir, I just know that mine will nowhere nearly match the wit, humanity and genius of Tina Fey’s Bossypants, my favourite book of 2011.

Fey charts the course of her life from her humble beginnings in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Since her mother had her at 40, when it was a rare occurrence in 1970, she was referred to as “Mrs. Fey and her change-of-life-baby!” We follow her in high school summer theatre camps, which she said was not intended to be a training ground for future gay theatre nerds, but of which she says “you know how sometimes squirrels eat out of a bird feeder?” There are hilarious memories of her first period (“Modess! It’s coming for you!, it hissed at me!”); her first out-of-college job at the Boystown YMCA in Chicago (“the centre of all human grimness”); her days traveling throughout the country performing Improv for $75 a show; her arrival at Saturday Night Live and her first meeting with Lorne Michael (a friendship which evolved anywhere from Annie / Daddy Warbucks to Mr. and Mrs. Michael Jackson and back again); the creation of 30 Rock (“an experiment to confuse your grandparents”); the 2008 presidential election and Sarah Palin impression, motherhood and her hopes and dreams for her daughter. You are probably already well-aware with the gloriously brief chapter “A Mother’s Prayer for Its Daughter”, which is likely posted on your fridge or on at least one co-worker’s cubicle at your office. And you’ll love her description of what it’s like to be on a magazine cover photo shoot (“With the wind blowing in your long extensions you feel like Beyoncé. The moment the wind machine stops you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and wonder, ‘Why is the mother from Coal Miner’s Daughter here?’”).

I told my friend Mark Ainley at The Piano Files recently that Bossypants is my choice of book of the year and that I intended to blog about it. I read aloud from the section where Fey thanked Joyce DeWitt for “not looking like everyone else” (and not just like “a Liza Minnelli doll damaged in a fire”) in the 1970s, when the era of Suzanne Somers and Farrah Fawcett set the beauty standard for everyone else (“Do you remember a time when pop culture was so white that Jaclyn Smith was the chocolate?!”). Mark put it simply to me: “the funniest people see the most clearly”. And it’s true. Everything Fey puts in her hilarious memoir is not the recycled product of numerous remembrances from instantly-made celebrities on reality TV series. What she brings to the page are her insights from years of struggle and hard work, shaped into perfect sense by perspective. No one will come away from Bossypants with easy catchphrases or delusions of going on spiritual quests (remember that Eat Pray Love was as much a marketing concept as it was a spiritual awakening for its author). Fey didn’t grow up thinking she was “special” or felt entitled to anything. She is not a self-proclaimed “artist” who excuses bad behaviour or poor judgment with that easy label. Fey is just a really funny person who liked to write, perform and share that love with everyone. She didn’t get famous for being on a reality show. Tina Fey got to where she is now through sheer hard work behind the scenes. This includes but is not limited to years of working in summer theatre, university acting seminars, night classes, writing on SNL and putting in 16-hour days on set before she traded that in for another 14-hour-a-day-gig running 30 Rock.

And she’s not even done yet. What keeps Fey going on 30 Rock is not just her love for her work, but also all of its attendant and necessary responsibilities. She realized that if she were to have quit the show a year or two into it that she would have royally corn-holed her entire staff. She admits that not everyone working on the show is at their dream job, and they had mortgages to pay, just like she does. This perspective keeps Fey from pulling any diva-like antics and sticking to the work at hand. She did, however, hint that the show might end before too long, as she indicated that “it was time to start looking for parachutes again” after the show’s low-rated yet long, critically acclaimed and culturally relevant run, but you don’t get the sense that she would end the show on a whim. She’s above that.

Classic TV: Why I Miss “30 Rock”

I couldn’t put my finger on what was missing from this year’s fall TV series lineup. The failure of The Playboy Club, the disappointment that is Pan Am (which nevertheless illicit great analysis on the brilliant fashion-related TV blog to which I occasionally contribute, You Know You Love Fashion), and the sorely wrenching one-two punch of New Girl and Whitney were prone to induce depression and a longing for true quality television. There are terrific new series such as Once Upon a Time and the on-life-support (“hiatus” is a euphemism, I just know it) Prime Suspect, but what’s really missing is my beloved 30 Rock.

30 Rock grew out of a development deal Tina Fey received in 2005 following nearly a decade of greatness at Saturday Night Live. The antics of an SNL-style sketch comedy centering on the neurotic head writer, the Republican blowhard / mentor figure who protects the show from corporate heads threatening to cancel it, the incredibly bizarre comedian who fronts the show, the starlet hanging onto her youth, and the ragtag team of writers is easily the best show on television, for me (Modern Family is a very close second). As Fey went on maternity leave this spring and gave birth in the early fall, the show will return to the air on January 12, 2012, giving the five and a half million fans of TV’s 106^th-highest-rated show something to cheer about and look forward to in the New Year.

Here are five reasons why I miss 30 Rock:

1. It is today’s equivalent of the ultimate workplace comedy (no disrespect to The Office, which I also love)

Every decade brings at least one excellent comedy on the workplace. In the 70s, the beloved Mary Tyler Moore Show showed us the humanity and dignity of work, without ennobling it or making martyrdom or sacrifice of a work-life balance something to shout about. In the 80s and early 90s, Cheers demonstrated that work can be lively and, given the right balance of personalities, remind us that work is, to many people, like a second home, provided that you happen to like most of the people who work there. With the economy in danger and the more those with jobs are pulling bigger, heavier loads due to fewer people at the office, work becomes a bit more unbearable and there are plenty who are hanging onto their jobs and doing them just to stay out of the unemployment line and welfare office.

The rather preposterous situations in this comedy are not the usual run-of-the-mill variety, as they go over the edge and verge on the surreal. And isn’t your work a bit like that, sometimes? The series’ fast-paced dialogue is never dumbed-down for anyone, since those who criticize the series for being “too smart” and “too snarky” for its own good are not worthy to watch this ingenious show on a regular basis. Despite the discouragingly low ratings, 30 Rock remains alive due to the high quality of its writing, directing and acting (and not just for the also-high production values) and, quite frankly, there’s always been at least one really smart little comedy show kicking around on the air that doesn’t stick around long enough to be truly appreciated because most folks “just don’t get it” (RIP Arrested Development, The Critic, Sports Night and Pushing Daisies, among others).

2. Jack Donaghy is one of my personal heroes

I am not saying this because I am a Republican (since I am Canadian, I cannot be, and by virtue of being Canadian I will always be a little left of centre regardless). I am saying this because for a lot of us, who wouldn’t want to be successful, put-together, with impeccable credentials and a glamourous corporate office in the sky? What sets Donaghy apart from so many other suits on TV is that he’s unapologetically successful, without being smug about it (but he doesn’t have false modesty about it, either).

When I used to watch successful corporate types on TV growing up, I never thought that J.R. Ewing was the be-all-end-all of that corporate type. I enjoyed Donald Trump on The Apprentice until one day I realized his business-minded daughter Ivanka was way cooler. I had initially thought such a boss should be feared but approachable, and not be a blowhard who yells at people all the time just to exert control. It must have been serendipitous (the second time I’ve used that word in a blog post this weekend) that Meryl Streep’s scary Miranda Priestley on The Devil Wear Prada showed up in theatres just months before Alec Baldwin and the premiere of 30 Rock, because her performance was a primer for Jack Donaghy, the kind of executive I’ve always wanted to be. (They also both whisper, which is a lot more frightening than a scream.) That, and for some reason, I’ve thought that Baldwin would make a really kick-ass executive type. That Baldwin infuses him with humanity and yet keep his wits and witticism about him is a testament to the ingenuity of the writing staff.