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My Oscar Party

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By David EdelsteinPosted Saturday, March 21, 1998, at 3:30 AM ET

When it hands out its Oscars each year, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences cannot be said to be celebrating true artistic achievement, since history teems with examples of masterpieces passed over in favor of dire middlebrow beanbags. Nor can it be said to be celebrating commercial achievement, since it often turns its nose up at blockbusters, even good ones. (Consider 1982, when Hollywood generated two of the finest big-studio commercial entertainments of the last 25 years--E.T. and Tootsie--and the Oscar went to the fat, square Gandhi.) What the academy actually celebrates is a peculiar amalgam of qualities: artistic, commercial, gaudily inflated, and politically earnest. The Best Picture of a given year is Hollywood's poster child--what a lot of vicious, petty, vulgar, vain, and corrupt people want the world to think of when it thinks of their industry.
It's hypocritical of me to trash these ridiculous awards, though, since I'm glued to the ceremony every year and benefit financially from the excitement the Oscars stir up. But I value them chiefly as an occasion to throw a party: to sit with friends and make fun of Barbara Walters; to size up--volubly--actors' cleavage, hairlines, gowns, and jewelry; to laugh at the drunks; and to vote on the evening's most asinine speech. This year I'm having a small soiree and have spent some time planning dishes that reflect my feelings about the nominees.

Titanic
Salad of seaweed, corn, and medallions of lobster
This is likely to win big. When it does, millions of pubescent women the world over will scream and jump up and down, phone lines will sizzle, the Internet will hum, and everyone will want to know: Where's Leo? Any possibility the academy will pass Titanic up because of its commercial success has been overcome by a) the movie's grandiose themes (heroism, self-sacrifice) and knee-jerk class bias and b) director James Cameron's sacrificing his percentage of the box office to get the movie made--the closest thing in Hollywood to true heroic tragedy.

Good Will Hunting
Boston clam chowder
A natural Best Picture winner for all sorts of reasons. The academy loves backward savants (Rain Man), and a working-class savant who emerges from therapy feeling forgiven (it's not his fault, cf, Ordinary People) should be just about irresistible. Plus, it's a decent film--better made than the two others put together although still impossibly fraudulent on almost every level. But can the academy bear to give the Oscar to Harvey Weinstein two years running? Nah.

As Good As It Gets
Sweet-and-sour tripe
A vomitous movie, unbearably coy and bogus. No chance for Best Picture, but some people think Jack Nicholson will win for his scenery chewing.

L.A. Confidential
Greasy-spoon burger with excessive globs of ketchup
Swept the critics' awards but won't win anything except Best Screenplay, which hurts only because I'm rooting for Donnie Brasco, written by my old friend Paul Attanasio, in that category. But even Paul thinks the Oscar will go to L.A. Confidential writers Brian Helgeland and Curtis Hanson. (Helgeland also wrote Conspiracy Theory, which goes down the toilet in the last half-hour but is stunningly good until then. Mel Gibson deserved a nomination!)

The Full Monty
Salami, Cheshire cheese, Samuel Smith's (Yorkshire) ale
No chance the film will win, but it will be fun to arrange the salami.

* * * * * *

OK, let's talk about acting. Here are the people I'm making dishes for:

Actor
Robert Duvall, The Apostle
Mixed Cajun-spiced nuts
Everybody knows this is the performance of the decade. But the film has proved hard to stomach, and Duvall never goes soft on his nutty character. Good Will Hunting's Matt Damon is pretty terrific and does go soft on his character, which means he's a dark horse. And Ulee's Gold's Peter Fonda's lights-on-but-no-one's-home performance has a lot of sentimental support.
I'll puke if the Oscar goes to: Fonda/Nicholson

Actress
Helena Bonham Carter, The Wings of the Dove
Fried chicken wings, Venetian-style
What a gorgeous turn--like a trapped animal fiercely calculating terrible options--in a mediocre movie and opposite amateur-hour actors. Will she win? But Afterglow's Julie Christie could get it for sentimental reasons.
I'll puke if the Oscar goes to: No one. They're all good.

Supporting Actress
Minnie Driver, Good Will Hunting, or Julianne Moore, Boogie Nights
English custard, marbled cheesecake
Two amazing, heart-on-the-sleeve performances; I can't decide. But the academy will give the award to Titanic's Gloria Stuart, who has hit the talk show circuit big time. She was beautiful in the '30s, but she couldn't act; she's still pretty great looking, and she still can't act.
I'll puke if the Oscar goes to: Stuart/L.A. Confidential's Kim Basinger

Supporting Actor
Robert Forster, Jackie Brown
Black-eyed peas
What a charming performance. But, of course, the Oscar will go to Boogie Nights' Burt Reynolds for his fine work and even more impressive comeback from (well-deserved) humiliation.
I'll puke if the Oscar goes to: As Good As It Gets' Greg Kinnear (Rupert Everett, don't jump!)

I'll get back to you after my Oscar party.

* * * * * *

The official Academy Awards site boasts a contest, Webcast ("Streaming video of major events!"), news (the latest "news" is that Neve Campbell is going to be a presenter), and a countdown to Oscar. The Internet Movie Database presents a lovely link-studded list of this year's nominees. (IMDB users can vote, and the list is updated hourly.)

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By David EdelsteinPosted Saturday, March 21, 1998, at 3:30 AM ET
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David Edelstein is Slate's film critic.
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