Coalition of the obstinate

By Kylie Jane Wakefield
Collegian Editor
February 28, 2007

I love celebrities. I love watching them parade around in their Prada on a red carpet, getting interviewed by a stiff-faced Joan Rivers while revealing the most unimportant details of their lives. I love how they slip up on corny teleprompter jokes, when they are confused about how to exit the stage and how they sometimes go a little too long on their acceptance speeches. It’s they in their rawest form, vulnerable to rejection and flattered by recognition. It proves that they are humans, but that they can still manage to light up a room just for being famous.

Quite simply, I love the Oscars.

I have watched the Oscars every year since I was a wee child. It’s the only awards show I’ve consistently been interested in because I’ve always been a huge movie buff. I would gather with my whole family in front of the television set, with a big bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to see my favorite actresses and actors walk that famous carpet.

Viewing a film is an amazing experience. It is an entertaining source of escape from a busy, often overbearing world. If a film is well made, you become involved with the characters, enraptured by the story and mesmerized by its captivating power. The Oscars also have that strong effect on me, keeping my eyes glued to the screen for every minute of its four-hour broadcast.

For those disinterested in the film business, the Oscars may seem like just another way for celebrities to showcase themselves and become even more self-involved. While it is obvious that many famous people aren’t so humble, that’s no reason to disregard their professional accomplishments. As egotistical as celebrities may be, it’s hard not to respect a genuinely good performance just because someone isn’t so honorable in real life. The Oscars celebrate the best of the best performances and achievements in film. For me, it’s the most exciting night of the year on television.

Watching all of the actors, actresses, writers, directors, etc. involved in films bare their souls on stage and to the world is an invigorating experience. You cheer on directors who have worked hard for years to grab an Oscar and finally, after so many great films, accomplish that goal (props to you, Marty Scorsese). When an actor or actress cries on stage, you’re happy because they’re so elated as well. You laugh at the cracks the presenter makes, no matter how terrible his or her comedy may be. Just like watching a film, it’s easy for us admirers of the business to become emotionally involved in the ceremony, despite how much criticism it may receive.

One day, I hope to be up on that stage, crying my eyes out because my brilliant screenplay/editing performance/directing efforts deserves a little, gold statue man. I will of course be cliché and say that it was always my dream to be on the stage, and that ever since I was a little girl I’ve wanted to be involved with the film-making process. Perhaps someone will be so affected by my speech and willingness to display my emotions in front of millions that they too will be inspired to follow their dreams.

If someone can be rejected from American Idol and end up an Oscar-winning actress (yeah, I’m talking about you, Jennifer Hudson), or write a critically-acclaimed story about a funny childhood experience (Michael Arndt’s screenplay for Little Miss Sunshine), it shows that we can accomplish anything as long as we’re determined. It may sound a little odd to look to celebrities and the entertainment industry for glimpses of the American dream, but for me, that’s where it lies.

Even if I never make it into the industry, I will always have Oscar night to look forward to. I suspect that over the years, my appreciation will only grow. It’s more than just another awards ceremony. It’s a cathartic viewing experience in and of itself.

wakefieldk1@lasalle.edu