Film, not fashion

Triumphant team Anora. Photo: Getty Images

By now, you know it was Anora’s night. And indie, budget film’s night. And Sean Baker’s night! Few have heard of Mr Baker before this morning (our time when the show was broadcasted), but he won, in one evening, four Oscars. The last time anyone achieved that was Walt Disney—yes, that Walt—in 1954. Anora scored six nominations and won five. Impressive for a film no one we spoke to has seen (we have and enjoyed it). Crazily and inexplicably popular Wicked, with 19 nominations, defied nothing, let alone gravity, and clutched only two—none in the major (or acting) categories: Best Costume Design and Best Production Design. The film we were rooting to win Best Picture, Conclave, with eight Oscar nods, came away with one award: Best Adapted Screen Play. Yep, disappointing.

So was the ceremony itself. This year, Conan O’Brien hosted, but the show opened with Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande offering a nearly ten-minute, free Wicked mini concert, complete with vocal power to last many more Oscars to come. When first-time host Mr O’Brien finally appeared, spoofing The Substance, it was a pre-recorded emergence, and through Demi Moore-as-Elisabeth Sparkle’s very matte back! After he pushed through the ultra-fake incision, he went back into the opening to retrieve his shoe. It was not clever, it was not funny; it was just low-brow. The monologue itself that followed was still not rip-roaring humorous, with digs at Karla Sofía Gascón (her past offensive social media posts), Amazon’s Jeff Bezos, artificial intelligence, and Netflix’s price increases. He pulled himself away from politics and avoided mentioning the name of he who is the geopolitics chaos virtuoso. So far, so safe.

Conan O’Brien at his first hosting gig for the Oscars. Photo: Getty Images

He then pointed to Adam Sandler, who popped up in the dressed-up (phrase du jour in Washington D.C.) crowd, where the unkempt comedian was togged in a hoodie and basketball shorts to elicit laughs, even when the event organisers were adamant about guests sticking to the formal dress code (one of our journalists learned it the hard way seven years ago). Ignore Timothée Chalamet’s pale yellow suit. Was this the political joke we have been waiting for—a jab at a recent White House gathering? So far, so safe. When he sang the charmless and repetitive I Won’t Waste Time to end his by-then-protracted opening act, he did not keep to his promise. The segment was not sleek and, again, not funny. Absurd? Not even that. Just a total waste of time. It was more entertaining to watch Isabella Rosalini beaming continuously, throughout.

Talking about singing, a feeble song item that paid tribute to James Bond (because Amazon Studios now has the franchise?) showed that the segments featured in the Oscar presentation need not honour films of the past year. The Substance’s Margaret Qualley opened with a dance sequence that had the energy of ‘M’ in a mission briefing before Pranpriya Manobal—aka Blackpink’s Lisa—sang Live and Let Die, to the overwhelming pride of Thailand and its collective smiles-turned-screams. But Lisa was paired with Doja Cat and Raye (belting Diamonds are Forever and Skyfall respectively), and it became quickly clear that, singing live, her voice was no powerhouse against the two, even when it was already evident in the trio’s pop collab Born Again. It also showed that while Lisa was scantily clad for the Victoria’s Secret show last October and onstage with her group mates too, she really was more at home with conservative styles—surprisingly, not—this time—by Louis Vuitton.

Doja Cat, Raye, Lisa performed a James Bond tribute. Photo: Getty Images

Earlier, outside on the red carpet, it was a steady stream of spectacularly unspectacular style. It might have been a night for independent films, but not fashion. The indie spirit among the stars was as alive as the Sandworm (of Dune fame), whose curious appearance on the show, at one time playing the piano with chopsticks, was plain nonsensical (so Conan O’Brien, we hear his fans say). Those weaned on prom-night aplomb continued to dish out safe mainstream elegance. Lisa, who has never been to an American high school, admittedly, stood out with one of the very few indie labels worn—a tuxedo-dress by New York-based Shanghai native Mark Gong (龚子铭, Gong Ziming). Her black-and-white ensemble was the welcome buoy in a sea of anaemic pastels.

Among the guys, Timothée Chalamet was the one without pressure to conform to award-night garb. He wore a Givenchy suit, with a surprisingly cropped double-breasted jacket, all in leather. And an identically-coloured shirt inside. He was so chromatically outstanding that Mr O’Brien could not help jibbing: “Love that suit,” he said. “You will not get hit on your bike tonight. Safe.” However loved his suit was, his performance in the Bob Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown was overlooked for Adrien Brody playing yet another holocaust survivor in The Brutalist, which won the latter the Best Actor. Givenchy enjoyed a surprising triumph with at least one other star wearing the maison’s design, even before Sarah Burton could put out her first collection: Elle Fanning.

Arianna Grande, Zoe Saldana, and Lisa on the red carpet. Photos: Getty Images

The big upset of the night, Demi Moore, who lost the Best Actress statuette to Anora’s Mikey Madison (to the immediate chagrin of Ms Moore’s hopeful fans), showed what an Oscar night newbie she was in a body-skimming, ultimately old-school, Armani Privé gown. Two other over-exposed hopefuls went the more dramatic route, but were not rewarded for their considerable efforts. Unsurprisingly, Ariana Grande, initially tipped to win the Best Supporting Actress Oscar, was all out to impress. She wore a Glinda-esque dress—pink, of course—by Schiaparelli that looked like a lamp shade from the waist down. Cynthia Erivo, who did not win the Best Actress that she was nominated for, turned up in a charcoal Louis Vuitton gown that could have been a gift wrap done by a mortician. Zoe Saldana, not known as a fashion type, appeared polished in a double-pouf, three-tiered gown by Saint Laurent that looked like fashion risk taken without going overboard.

That most who sauntered on the Oscar red carpet looked especially lacklustre this year could be due to the absence of dependables such as Cate Blanchett, Nicole Kidman, Tilda Swinton or, for a younger audience, Zendaya. Even Miley Cyrus was risk-averse in choosing a black, could-be-any-gown Alexander McQueen. As with the presentation proper, conservative skew was the main aesthical consideration for the time spent on the red carpet. Thinking of New Year’s eve in a particular resort in Florida? But finally, back inside the Dolby Theatre, Conan O’Brien could not resist. When Anora received its second statuette, he said, “Anora is having a good night. Two wins already. I guess Americans are excited to see somebody finally stand up to a powerful Russian.” A little—and however subtle—was better than nothing.