Every year in January a susurrus of anticipation sweeps through cinema auditoriums across the world. Popcorn stands are abandoned, Ben and Jerrys cartons are discarded and pre-film toilet runs are neglected as ‘The List’ is hoisted majestically in to the public consciousness. Names as star studded as a red carpet necklace glitter from their lofty height over cinema lobbies, whilst mere mortal audiences pass with bowed heads underneath on their way to see the films that a committee has deemed are worthy of our reverence.
I admit freely to being one of those baaing cinema goers, mindlessly goose stepping into a darkened cinema, called by the Oscars siren to experience films that someone else tells me I have to love. And I do love them. I loved The Artist so much I even looked up tap dancing lessons (for those of you who know me my appalling centre of gravity, you’ll understand why this is a dangerous notion). But as much as I love The Artist and whole heartedly want it to win Best Picture, and as much as my huge crush on George Clooney demands that I take every opportunity to drool over his chiselled jaw line, I simply cannot tune in and sit through the entire Oscars ceremony.
I think I’m allergic. The red carpet appears on my screen in an inviting swathe of warm crimson and like a chameleon I turn a colour so identical that when I stand in front of the telly my flatmates wonder where I’ve gone. The thing is, I can’t bear the sight of a red carpet not because of the bad experience as a child I had in Allied Carpets, but because I know where that winding red rug leads: The Speeches.
And not just any speeches. These are Oscars Speeches. And unlike M&S I don’t mean that that makes them higher quality, quite the opposite in fact. A lengthy, dull monologue delivered through a cascade of crocodile tears just doesn’t do it for me – and actually quite irritates me when I think that it’s coming from a member of the cinematic world whose entire profession revolves around provoking an emotive reaction in an audience; the only emotion I feel is desperation to scrabble for the controller and end the torture of enduring another predictable oration.
Ok, I admit I’m being pretty harsh here. There have been some fantastic Oscar acceptances over the years. Check out Aaron Sorkin’s, Screenwriter for The Social Network, who thanked his agent for “never blowing my cover to reveal that I would happily do this for free.” But these three clips below are the greatest examples I can find to show you, if in the future you’re ever lucky enough to receive your own golden statue, of how not to make your speech.
1. Preparing To Look Unprepared
At the 1999 Acadamy Awards, Gwyneth Paltrow’s hands shot up to her face in the obligatory “I can’t believe I won!! “ pose before her name was even called. A few minutes later, Gwyneth sashayed up on stage biting her lip as she fought back tears from as eyes as dry as one of the chicken tika wraps from Costcutter. Her award was well-deserved from her performance in Shakespeare in Love, but her performance as “Gwyneth Paltrow: Oscar Winner” was just too contrived.
2. A Quote Out Of Context
Titanic remains one of my favourite films of all time and James Cameron undoubtedly deserved the award for best director at the 70th Acadamy Awards. However, his speech was pretty average, mundane and delivered in monotone until the last when he blurted out the famous quote from his film “I’m the King of the World!” followed by a succession of awkward whoops. It just doesn’t sound the same when it doesn’t come from Leo.
3. Incest Is Not Always Best
Most would agree that Angelina Jolie is pretty hot, she even managed to pull off a Morticia Adams costume instead of a conventional ball gown at the awards in 2000. But her choice of date in her brother James Haven to the awards ceremony raised a few eyebrows – especially when they practically made out in front of the cameras. Her strange relationship with James was cemented when she gushed during her acceptance speech that she was “so in love with my brother right now”. Her speech was memorable for all the wrong reasons.