Water Music From Big Pink: Gwyneth's Oscar meltdown.
From my handy guide on how to avoid making yourself a laughingstock during your Oscar speech, at MSN Movies:
The main thing to remember when you win your Oscar (and you know you will win your Oscar one day -- admit it, you've even practiced your acceptance speech) is that you are immediately faced with 45 seconds during which you can either display grace under pressure or make a complete ass of yourself.
Contrary to Academy legend, Sally Field did not do the latter when she gave the most parodied and ridiculed acceptance speech in Oscar history in 1985. "I haven't had an orthodox career, and I've wanted more than anything to have your respect," she said. "The first time I didn't feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can't deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!"
Now, that last part, which came out a bit squeaky, wasn't as bad as many later made it out to be. It wasn't, after all, "You like me! You really like me!" My theory is that the repetitive phrase was memorized in advance (it sounds a bit canned) and that she simply oversold it in the excitement of the moment. Instead of making it sound more spontaneous, her delivery underscored (genuine though the sentiment might be) that this was, in fact, another performance, which felt kind of embarrassing to watch. And audiences can really resent it if you embarrass them, to the point where they respond defensively with scathing sarcasm and mockery.
Don't let this happen to you. Here's some advice for giving your Oscar speech, when the time comes.
1. Get a Grip
Why is it that the only people who really appear to lose control when they accept their statuette are the actors? Why don't the art directors and sound editors sputter and wail as if they'd just been spared from lethal injection? If anything, you'd think the actors would be better able to control their emotions than most people.
And you'd be right. You see, actors dig emotional meltdowns, on screen and off. They do it on purpose. It's almost a form of noblesse oblige -- a generous Acting Gratuity (more than 20 percent), if you will: "I will now treat you to an extraordinary demonstration of how deeply I am moved!" And, at the same time, it's a form of grandiose self-inflation and self-abasement: "I scrape and bow to acknowledge how much YOU have honored ME!"
Of course, Gwyneth Paltrow (Best Actress, "Shakespeare in Love," 1998) just stood there and squeaked like a broken drip-irrigation node, but at least she had the decency to be horrified and humiliated about it later, claiming she'd put her Oscar at the back of a bookcase because it brought back painful memories of her big, pink weep-down.
One of the most divisive Oscar speeches of recent years (some were moved, some were appalled) was the tornado of tears Halle Berry whipped up around herself when she won Best Actress for "Monster's Ball" in 2001. Berry's Interminable Moment-of-Special-Pleading was a gale-force ego storm that threatened to suck up the entire universe. It was like the Big Bang in reverse: "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I'm sorry. This moment is so much bigger than me," blubbered Berry, trying desperately to make the moment big enough for her.
The Halle Berry Best Actress of the Future: "And the Oscar goes to... Nonameo Whatsherface!"
"This moment is for Dorothy Dandridge, Lena Horne, Diahann Carroll," she continued, in a name-dropping paroxysm that cried out, instead, for Lloyd Bentsen. "It's for the women that stand beside me, Jada Pinkett, Angela Bassett, Vivica Fox. And it's for every nameless, faceless woman of color that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened." Yes, because now all nameless, faceless women of color have a much better chance of becoming Best Actress Oscar winners, just like their universal idol, Halle Berry! The odds have suddenly improved from roughly 3,000,000,000:1 to maybe as close as 2,999,999,999:1. Good news for nameless, faceless women of color everywhere!
"Thank you. I'm so honored. I'm so honored," Berry further honored herself. "And I thank the Academy for choosing me to be the vessel for which His blessing might flow." Which brings us to our next piece of advice ...
It's also not a good idea to refer to people as "Zionist hoodlums" in your acceptance speech, a la Ms. Redgrave, if you ever want to win another one.
You should also include a list of how not to present an Oscar, starting with Julia ("I love my life") Roberts, who nearly molested Denzel Washington on stage after he won.
It's always the actors who melt down, but I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that almost the entire evening is leading up to their awards; we are making them more important than the art directors and score composers. I come to this conclusion because usually the first award of the evening is Supporting Actor/Actress, and how many times do you see someone melt down on the first award of the evening? Not too many times, I'm going to guess.
As far as one liners go, I'm a fan of George Clooney's last year, even if it was, at most, only mildly self-depracating. But I like the fact that he says that his Supporting Actor win automatically means he's not winning Best Director, because that's what almost all of us were thinking. He managed to be charming and grateful in his speech, yet at the same time points out his awareness of the politics and games of the Oscars.
Although I dig a lot of what you said here, Jim, and think that when winning an Oscar, following most of these suggestions would be a very smart idea ("no grocery lists," "brevity is good," and "Prepare but don't overprepare" are particularly wise I think) there are a few things I'd like to respond to if I may.
Why is it that the only people who really appear to lose control when they accept their statuette are the actors?
Because actors are emotional people. They have to be in order to be good at what they do and, presumably, anyone winning an Oscar is, at the very least, somewhat "good" at their profession. Actors are extremely sensitive. They feel things stronger than most people even allow themselves to. They dig deep within themselves and pull out of their souls some of the darkest, saddest, most frightening, most shocking and most vulnerable emotions that a human being can have. Then they proceed to parade those emotions around for all of the world to see and either embrace or reject, to draw to their bosom like a brother or spit on with utter contempt. They basically, as Sean Penn said once, "tear up their insides for the entertainment of others." Rejection ain't easy. Every actor has had to endure lots of rejection in their career, so when they actually are respected and appreciated for their work, do you not think it is understandable that they should feel very moved (perhaps even overwhelmed) by the gesture? So, why hide or suppress that? Why not share that profound joy with the world? Because it's not "good television?" I mean, God forbid we should have a moment of real honesty and emotion being presented across the airwaves for a change. Here is the one time where they don't have to "act," where they can truly (for the briefest of moments perhaps) "be themselves." If that means being funny. great. If that means being stoic, great. If that means being weepy, great. Whoever they are, let them be that.
BTW can you tell I'm an actor? ;)
2. Don't Assume That God Voted for You
Although I myself am a Christian, I would never EVER assume that anything I was given or earned was some sort of divine implementation; that the award I received was a "symbol" of God's plan being executed; that I was, as you said, "a veesel through which his blessings might flow." That's just arrogant and self-righteous and I have little tolerance for it. On the other hand, I do hope that you are not suggesting that upon receiving an Oscar (or a Grammy or an Emmy or anything for that matter) one shouldn't at all mention or thank God (or Buddha or whomever one should happen to believe in), because, quite honestly, I gave you more credit than that.
If a person (be they an artist, an athlete, a farmer, etc) actually does embrace the notion that there is some sort of higher power, then why should that person be ashamed to publicly throw up a quick little "Thanks" to the sky? I know full well that I will never EVER win an Oscar, but I have received things before in my life that I was rather humbled by and in those moments I found myself feeling very grateful to the one from whom I think "all things come" (a rather unpopular notion nowadays I'll grant you). If I were to ever win an Oscar (and this is an extremely "out there," far-fetched fantasy world I'm talking about here), I'm not sure if I would thank God or not, but I might. Perhaps it would be "demeaning to the Almighty," although I, personally, think it might be more demeaning to actually want to say something but choose not to out of "fear of what others will think" or "bad form/etiquette." Anyway, in my experience it seems that a lot of people like to demean the Almighty everyday in far more obvious and hostile ways that that. I think a little "Thank you" would probably be low on God's list of blasphemes.
"Self-evident commonsense truth". Huh?
Molesting on stage... like Adrian Brody and Halle Berry?
Also, I would say, don't speak like the world owes the film making community any sort of award for fundamentally changing our social climate like Clooney made it sound when he stated something about how much Hollywood thinks ahead of the curve. "South Park" did a great thing when they had Clooney's speech travel across the country as a cloud of smug - brilliant.
Also, if you are going to be political, tread carefully. Yes, Hollywood agrees with you. About the HIV+ Haitians, about George W Bush, about Deng Xiao Ping. About everything. But Oscar is their night. And the bigger your soap box, the more it eclipses their limelight. You can make your point with subtely and class, like Susan Sarandon did when she won for Dead Man Walking and limited her anti-death penalty politics to a brief plea that we find a way to "non-violently end violence".
Or you bring the show to a dead stop by urging a moment of silence to the victims of any given tragedy. Or wag your finger like a petulant child and scream "shame on you! SHAME on you!". Or you can have Sacheen Littlefeather accept the Oscar on your behalf. Thus ensuring that Hollywood will remember not what you said, but how much of an ass you made of yourself while saying it.
One good speech I remember: Michael Caine, when he won Best Supporting Actor for "Cider House Rules". He spent most of his speech honoring the other nominees. I thought it was nice of him to mention them.
One bad speech I remember: Reese Witherspoon, who won just last year for "I Walk The Line". She just kept talking and talking, and as she kept going she was just talking faster and faster. There was no cohenrency in what she was saying, she just went from one thing to another, barely stopping to breath.
I think they should cut the Oscar speeches down to ten seconds. For one, it'll make the whole night shorter, and two, it'll keep the speeches to a bare minimum.
Just a thought. :)
Speeches, smeeches, winners, shminners. For genuine entertainment I want more of the losers in their tiny boxed head shots to be as nakedly pissed off as Ridley Scott was a few years back.
I'd also like David Lynch standing up and chatting in the aisles with the best losing director nominee while the annointed mediocrity prattles along onstage to become an annual event, please.
Damian: I love actors. Some of my best friends, etc., etc. But my point is that if they REALLY wanted to show what good actors they are, they would not overact before the biggest (and most influential) audience they've ever faced!
There must be a way for a religious person to thank God for an award at a glitzy ceremony and not make it sound like they're holier-than-thou, or rubbing it in the faces of those who didn't win. But I can't think of how.
pacheco: I agree with you about Clooney's speech (at least he mentioned Hattie McDaniel -- which is more than Halle Berry did!).
Mason: Caine's speech can't be topped for graciousness.
Robert and Michael: Yes, the political minefields are formidable. Public figures have just as much right to express their political opinions as any other citizen... but in the context of an awards show they just trivialize themselves and their beliefs.
And Bruce: Regarding that Lynch moment, I would like to rephrase the words of Haven Hamilton in "Nashville": "I WILL tolerate rudeness in the presence of a star. Two stars."
I'd like to respond to Damian's remarks about acting:
I think I know what you're getting at, but you can do without this statement: "Actors are extremely sensitive. They feel things stronger than most people even allow themselves to."
Every artist (and critic) makes deep explorations of their emotions whenever they tap into their art. Most of what you described for actors applies also to other artists as well. And the Oscars recognize other artists besides actors.
To say one artist feels things "stronger" than another is just bad word choice -- it's putting one art form on a pedestal above others.
To say it's a "more direct" expression of human emotion (ie, they bare their soul directly in front of the camera where as the director does it through his array of creative decisions) might be more accurate, but I don't like that phrasing either.
"There must be a way for a religious person to thank God for an award at a glitzy ceremony and not make it sound like they're holier-than-thou, or rubbing it in the faces of those who didn't win. But I can't think of how."
The holier than thou crowd has given the rest of us a bad rep. Like politics and the media, only the pricks seem to make it to the spot light, and they ruin it for the rest of us.
Damian and Jim,
I too am an actor, and I have another take on why actors fall to pieces. After who knows how many years of hoofing it for a dream, a dream that seems completely unattainable, they are suddenly validated. I imagine it would be easy to get caught up in the moment. I personally liked Hillary Swank's speeches... "I'm just thankful to be a working actor" or DiCaprio's in which he came off like "this is what I do, thanks". When there's confidence mixed in the speeches seem to go far better.
Jim... Pacheco. If by Pacheco you meant Phillip, then by all means we're discussing the same thing. Clooney did mention Hattie, but it's funny that at the same event they made her sit at the back of the auditorium separate from her compatriots, and she refused to go to the premiere so as not to disrupt the social norms in the South. Obviously that was the age she lived in... but making her sit at the back of the theatre!? If the were truly as ahead as they say they were, they would have brought her up front.
And I think there is a way for an actor to thank God, or a sports person without sounding self-involved and bloated... it would be like this, and this is how I will do it when I win an Oscar... "I want to thank God for giving me just enough talent and insight into who I am to be able to grow as an actor and a person, and for gracing me with the presence of other such wonderful and talented artists. Also for giving me the strength and patience to put up with this industry over the years, it's been a continuing and formidable learning experience." To thank him for giving me something to begin with, rather than a gold award. It may need a little perfecting, but it's headed in the proper direction. What I should do is post my Oscar speech here, so when I do win it (and I will) I'll repeat it word for word. Hah, that would be funny.
Okay, Jim, good advice for winners but terrible for us at home! What are you, an agent? I agree about the endless lists of little people. Boring! And about the crediting of God as executive producer or something. (No disrespect to your statement, Damian, just to the idea that the award is part of the master plan--pre-ordained, as it were.) But everything else...That's the reason, if there is one, for watching. I long for embarrassing meltdowns, pompous grandstanding, bizarre rambling. For those of you who want to keep the night moving along--hup!hup!hup!--I offer the same advice I give to those who want to speed up baseball: Go to bed and read the box score the next day.
p.s. When I win my next Oscar you're going to get at least 3 firmaments!
I liked Ms. Paltrow's speech. I know it was weepy, but I like that if it's honest. I also think that directors can be just as shameless as some of the actors in their acceptances. And I do expect actors to be a little more emotional. I've also seen some pretty emotional speeches from the non-acting categories. I don't know if actors are necessarily more emotional than others, but they are more used to having those emotions closer to the surface and being willing to let them flow. What I do not like is when the emotion is clearly rehearsed.
Of course, when I win my Oscar, and I've been planning to do so for a long time, I will try to keep my composure, be humble, and be honest. I have my speech all planned:
I want to thank you all for coming here tonight. Ever since my acting teacher, Ms. Johnson, said I didn't have the talent to win an Oscar I set out to prove her wrong. And that's why I became a director. So there is wonderfulness in this crazy old world. And this (I hold up my Oscar) proves that God does love those who sacrifice everything for the pursuit of their craft, and a few other things. I want to thank those who have been with me through thick and thin, like my dog and the Starbucks drivethrough. I also want to thank the following people… (I pull out a long, long list and then break down weeping hysterically. This list falls to the floor. I continue to cry. The exit music begins. Immediately I stop crying and regain my composure.) Filmmakers, all of us, have a duty (at this point I get louder to talk over the music) to bring some happiness into the little lives of humdrum people and maybe change the world just a little bit for the better. I know that didn't come out right, but I know you'll forgive me, and you'll forgive me for saying (louder still) that I'm so glad to get something I truly deserve! Not just I, but also those who lost. Take that Ms. Johnson! Thank you all again. Directing is a humble profession! (I hold up the Oscar.) This is for all of you! I love you all, I truly do! Goodni…! (Cut to commercial)
Honestly, I can hardly wait for my Oscar.
Beautiful speech, cineboy. Sounds like it could have been Woody Allen's if he'd won anything for "Purple Rose of Cairo." ("Filmmakers, all of us, have a duty ... to bring some happiness into the little lives of humdrum people..." -- that's the tone of the whole movie!)
Dane: I was on the graduation ceremony committee when I was a senior in high school. We had everybody file in through the sides simultaneously, cut down on the number of awards presented, and got the hell out of there. The previous year's commencement folderol took something like three hours; I think ours was an hour. That's the way I like my ceremonies. (I couldn't believe that a Catholic wedding -- with mass -- could take an hour and a half! That's an abomination!)
I always want the Oscars to be over with as soon as possible (unless Allan Carr is producing, in which case I am held spellbound in horror and delight) -- mostly because I just want to be able to file my story by deadline and get it over with! Let the winners and the losers do all the interviews they want after the show. They can even talk to Barbara Walters if they like. I don't care. I TiVo awards shows I feel I have to watch -- like the Golden Globes and the Independent Spirit awards, and then fast-forward through them until I see somebody I like. Got through the globes in 20 minutes this year!
Jay:
I think you understood what I was trying to communicate even if I wasn't doing a very good job at it. You are correct in that actors are not the only artists who make deep explorations of their emotions and express them through their work and I didn't mean to make it sound like they were. I actually do other things besides acting (singing, dancing, writing and even a little directing) and I've found myself "digging awfully deep" for these projects as well, so I I know that you're right and I acknowledge that.
Nevertheless, I have to admit that I still find acting, for some reason, the most exhausting endeavor of all these (not only physically and emotionally but also psyhcologically and even spiritually). I don't mean this to sound arrogant or haughty, though it could be taken that way, but there really is just something different about acting than most other artistic pursuits (not necessarily better or worse, just different). Most artists have, if I can use the word, luxury of being able to "hide behind" something that they've created (i.e. an object like a book, a painting, a film, a song, etc). Something "other than" or "apart from" themselves. An actor may have a role but the line between actor and character is actually pretty fuzzy. An actor creates something (i.e. a performance) that doesn't really "exist" in a material sense and the tool that they use is not a camera, a paintbrush or a musical instrument. It is themselves (i.e. their voice, mind, emotions; basically their own body and soul) and it is very hard to simply turn that on and off like a light switch. They take it with them wherever they go. It is who they are. Thus, when an actor is being honored for his/her work, they are also being recognized (to some degree) for who they are and I would say it is nigh impossible for them NOT to get emotional about it.
Phillip:
I like your theory as to why actors tend to "fall to pieces" more than others. I REALLY like the way you plan to thank God for your Oscar. I look forward to hearing those words someday when (not "if") you win. :)
Cineboy:
I don't know if actors are necessarily more emotional than others, but they are more used to having those emotions closer to the surface and being willing to let them flow.
Well said, Tuck. Oh, and I like your speech too. :)
Jim:
But my point is that if they REALLY wanted to show what good actors they are, they would not overact before the biggest (and most influential) audience they've ever faced!
And my point is that they don't have to "show" or "not show" anything to anybody at this point. They have nothing left to prove. This is their moment. I say, let 'em have it.
There must be a way for a religious person to thank God for an award at a glitzy ceremony and not make it sound like they're holier-than-thou, or rubbing it in the faces of those who didn't win. But I can't think of how.
Read Phillip Kelly's remarks. I think he does a decent job.
Sounds like it could have been Woody Allen's if he'd won anything for "Purple Rose of Cairo." ("Filmmakers, all of us, have a duty ... to bring some happiness into the little lives of humdrum people..." -- that's the tone of the whole movie!)
Careful! Them's fightin' words, Jim. ;)
I always want the Oscars to be over with as soon as possible (unless Allan Carr is producing, in which case I am held spellbound in horror and delight) -- mostly because I just want to be able to file my story by deadline and get it over with!
See, that's interesting because I personally never tire of watching the Oscars. People keep saying they want it to be a shorter, but I keep hoping it would go longer because I think a person can gain real insight into human nature (both its heights and its depths) in an Oscar telecast. Yes, I am interested in seeing who wins but I am also interested in seeing what they do and say when they win. It has made for some very "human" moments. Oscar speeches are expected to be so short nowadays, causing actors feel so rushed, that I fear we will never again be treated to the kind of heartfelt, eloquent words that were expressed by Dustin Hoffman when he won for Kramer vs. Kramer (though I think the sentiments expressed by Steven Soderbergh when he won for directing Traffic came close).
Okay, I do have to say that I love watching the Oscars. I know that it is essentially a gimmick (the industry awarding itself, the ceremony invented to promote film and increase sales, etc.) and I know that the best don't always (usually?) win, nor are the right films always nominated. I know there are lots of issues and problems with the Oscars, and at one level I poo poo them. And yet, there I am, planted in front of the television from the first pre-Oscar broadcast to the final post-Oscar interviews, commenting and cringing, laughing and teary-eyed, annoyed and elated. And I have to confess that each year, from since I was a boy, I have imagined myself up there getting my award, etc. I certainly can't stand shameless self-promotion, even at the Oscars, but I do love the whole spectacle. One reason is that it is amazing to see so many filmmakers in one place. I just want to say, "those are my peeps!" and give them hugs and handshakes, and have them acknowledge me, and be important enough to acknowledge them, etc. Of course, from the safe distance of the television broadcast and my comfy couch, though. Oh, and I have to admit that I really get into the whole "who's wearing who" thing. I'm not a fashion/haute couture kinda guy, but it's my one time each year to let myself go, so to speak. To put it in perspective for me: if I watch the Superbowl I feel as though I've wasted my whole day, however, when I watch the Oscars I actually feel like I've added something to my life, even if that something is a little too smug, a little too glitzy, and little too shallow at times.
For the curious, here is Dustin Hoffman's Oscar speech in 1980 (winning for 1979's Kramer vs. Kramer)
(Copied from http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/academy_awards/74154/3)
"Thank you."
(extended pause while he looked at the Oscar statue
"He has no genitalia and he's holding a sword."
In reference to the Oscar ... greeted with laughter.
"I'd like to thank my parents for not practicing birth control."
Again, laughter ... quite an original way to thank the parents, don't you think?
(He then delivered his speech ...)
"I'm up here with mixed feelings. I've been critical of the Academy ... and for reason. I'm deeply grateful for the opportunity to be able to work. I'm greatly honored for being chosen by the producer Stanley Joffe and the director Bob Benton, and to have worked in a family with them. And with Meryl, and with Justin, who if he loses again, we'll have to give him a lifetime achievement award. And to Jane Alexander, and to Jerry Greenberg, and to Nestor, and to the crew on the film, who was part of that family. And to the crews, and to the directors, like Bob Fosse, and Mike Nichols, and John Schlesinger, that I have worked with before. We are laughed at when we are up here sometimes, for thanking, but when you work on a film, you discover that there are people who are giving that artistic part of themself that goes beyond a paycheck. And they are never up here, and many of them are not members of the Academy, and we never hear of them. But this Oscar is a symbol, I think. And it is given for appreciation from those people who we never see. They are a part of our life. I refuse to believe that I beat Jack Lemmon, that I beat Al Pacino, that I beat Peter Sellers. I refuse to believe that Robert Duvall lost. We are a part of an artistic family. There are 60,000 actors in this Academy, pardon me, in the Screen Actors Guild, and probably 100,000 in Equity. And most actors don't work, and a few of us are so lucky to have a chance to work with writing and to work with directing. Because when you're a broke actor, you can't write, you can't paint ... you have to practice accents while you're driving a taxi cab. And to that artistic family that strives for excellence, none of you have ever lost. And I am proud to share this with you, and I thank you."