Return to Oz: An Oscars-Night Diary

Some time ago, I asked a prominent editor if he would ever return to the Academy Awards after attending just once. He quoted a famous saying often attributed to Voltaire about avoiding future personal compromises. This sparked a lot of thought, especially for someone like me who has visited the Oscars six times and was preparing for my seventh visit.

What I appreciate about the Oscars is their consistency: the excitement of the red carpet, the lively protests from “Jesus Saves” activists, the euphoric stars thanking their teams, and the unique chocolate lollipops at the Governors Ball shaped like the statuettes. Yet, each year brings something new, with fresh faces filled with awe and new films marking their place in Oscar history. Sometimes, unexpected events occur—like a mix-up with an award envelope or a surprising outburst. This year, I noticed subtle changes indicating that Hollywood, like the world, continues to evolve.

The ninety-seventh Academy Awards arrived amid a backdrop of industry turmoil and chaos, especially following some controversial tweets. Moreover, California was struggling with the aftermath of destructive wildfires. However, the awards night itself turned into a celebration, particularly for "Anora," a film by Sean Baker that humorously portrays the life of a dancer from Brighton Beach. It stood as a significant win for independent cinema, while major studio films settled for artistic honors. This year, the Oscars felt quite international, akin to the World Cup, with winners hailing from Brazil, Latvia, and Iran. Outside the Dolby Theatre, the world appeared tumultuous, yet inside, people from varied backgrounds awaited the announcement of the Best Actress award, making it a fitting reason to attend the event.

My Oscars journey began with a person whose path to the red carpet was uniquely extraordinary. Clarence (Divine Eye) Maclin spent seventeen years incarcerated in a maximum-security prison for robbery. He discovered the power of art through a theater program called Rehabilitation Through the Arts, eventually portraying a version of himself in “Sing Sing.” The film chronicles his experiences and has earned him a nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay.

“I’ve been on the Oscar trail for eighteen months,” he shared with me at the Beverly Wilshire, dressed in tuxedo pants and a clip-on bow tie. His girlfriend, Lisa Evans, was adjusting her outfit in the mirror as they prepared for the big night.

Maclin grew up in Mount Vernon, New York, where he had an interest in the arts but felt pressured to suppress it to fit in with his peers. It wasn't until he entered Sing Sing at twenty-nine that he rediscovered his passion for acting. Through his prison program, he performed in various plays, ultimately transitioning to film when directors Greg Kwedar and Clint Bentley invited him and his fellow actors to collaborate on a screenplay that took six years to develop. John (Divine G) Whitfield, who co-starred in the film, was played by Oscar nominee Colman Domingo.

The awards journey filled Maclin with excitement. At a special event at the Academy Museum, actress Sheryl Lee Ralph encouraged him, saying, “Close your mouth. You belong here.” He mingled with celebrities and formed friendships, feeling a sense of camaraderie rather than rivalry. “We’re all together on this road,” he stated with a bright smile, noting the similarities between the competitive nature of both prison and awards season.

At noon, a large SUV picked up Maclin and Evans. “I feel like Cinderella,” she exclaimed, having studied posing techniques on Instagram. As we crossed Sunset Boulevard, we saw a woman holding a sign reading “HOLLYWOOD IS SODOM AND GOMORRAH.” The car passed security checks, and Maclin reflected on the visible homelessness just outside of the glamorous event. When they stepped out, a greeter welcomed them to the Oscars, marking their arrival at the star-studded ceremony.

On the red carpet, I momentarily departed from Maclin and hid from the photographers. Nearby, activists from the documentary “No Other Land” were visible, draped in Palestinian-themed scarves, while tribal chief Willie Sellars, adorned in a sage-colored suit, shared his reasons for his attire. “This is crazy,” he remarked.

As I wandered the area, I encountered military personnel representing the Army, who were celebrating their 250th anniversary. Lieutenant Colonel Audrey Gboney shared their purpose, emphasizing their role in telling the Army's story to the American public. It was moments like these that highlighted the Oscars' unique blend of culture and history.

Moving on, I passed the Glambot and spotted actor Alessandro Nivola searching for a bar. The venue was transformed from its usual appearance into a magnificent ambiance filled with gold curtains. From a distance, two LA Fire Department captains told me they had achieved VIP status this awards season. They recounted their experiences attending multiple ceremonies.

In the mezzanine where I took my seat, I met Stuart Walker from National CineMedia, who praised the value of tradition in such events. His wife Margaret shared that she had just seen Mindy Kaling in the restroom, emphasizing the excitement of the evening.

The first half of the ceremony captivated me, especially performances by Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo against a backdrop of the Los Angeles skyline. The host Conan O’Brien's opening monologue was spot-on, and Kieran Culkin's humorous mention of competition elicited laughter. The atmosphere was celebratory, though I noted the scent of marijuana wafting through the venue.

After Zoe Saldaña won Best Supporting Actress, I decided to step out into the lobby. Rita Wilson noticed my note-taking and shared a bit about her husband Tom Hanks's collection of awards. As she watched a presentation by Mick Jagger, she playfully remarked that he was a better choice than Bob Dylan for the event. Our casual conversation paid tribute to the creativity and unpredictability of the Oscars.

The night came to a surprising end when Mikey Madison took home the Best Actress award for “Anora,” edging out Demi Moore, who had brought a touch of classic Hollywood charm to the campaign. This moment energized the evening, confirming “Anora” as the Best Picture winner, solidifying Sean Baker's significant achievement with four Oscars—an all-time record in history.

As the crowd moved toward the Governors Ball, I spotted Jesse Eisenberg looking a bit lost after his nomination. Despite his achievements, he quipped about returning to reality after the glitz of the night. At the ball, guests chose between themed salmon or chocolate while winners held their Oscars with pride.

I found myself in conversations, moving between different languages and groups, meeting individuals celebrating their Oscar wins. One notable moment involved Darya Ekamasova from Team “Anora,” expressing her dream of attending after watching the ceremony from her home in Moscow every year.

Finally, I caught an Uber from the event, hearing from the driver about the unexpected mix of Boston food delivery and the Oscars. Noticing a report on a minor earthquake, I realized I hadn’t felt it. Arriving at the Vanity Fair party, I saw familiar faces in a vibrant setting, full of music and laughter. I was eager to reconnect with Clarence, but learned he had experienced a wardrobe malfunction and was on the hunt for a new outfit.

Maclin's journey embodies the spirit of perseverance, making the Oscars night a rich tapestry of stories, reflecting both the glamour and the reality of the Hollywood landscape. It was a night of dreams realized and moments that connected people from various walks of life.

Oscars, Hollywood, Awards, Film