I enjoy a lot of things. Coffee, movies, movies about coffee (shout out to A Coffee in Berlin), long walks on the beach, etc. I do not enjoy the Oscars. Partially, it’s the pretentious hipster inside of me that’s bitter over films like Under the Skin and Nymphomaniac being overlooked, partially it’s the pretentious hipster inside of me that refuses to accept an industry with so many systematic issues in it, partially it’s the pretentious hipster inside of me that does not believe in having art compete against each other, but mostly it is because I am a petty, pretentious hipster that needs to compulsively watch the Academy Awards in order to complain about them the next day. (Hey, at least I’m honest.) This year was no exception, a year that stung more than usual given my apathy towards most of the nominees. But I watched. And I survived. And this is how.
1. Caffeine
I don’t actually drink alcohol, so instead I installed an IV drip of liquid caffeine into my arms. I was also supplemented by caffeine patches and I had an espresso machine installed in the room where I watched the telecast. Who needs JK Simmons screaming at you when you have this stuff to keep you awake? My tweets are definitively indicative of my jittery sobriety, like this one:
I was originally very upset that The Imitation Game won this Oscar, but now that I know that Graham Moore is hot, I’m okay with it now…
— Kyle Turner (@TyleKurner) February 23, 2015
2. Food
I’ll never get an Oscar, not because I have low self-esteem, or because I don’t work in the film industry, or because I have yet to sleep my way to the top, but because I am too busy eating pizza and truly valuing the texture and nuances of this slice of cheese over humdrum biopics like The Imitation Game. That being said, I could stop eating and head to the gym and then meet Graham Moore and then seduce him and then trick him into marrying me and then divorce him, stipulating that I get his Oscar in the settlement. Oh, yeah, Oscar parties are great for food.
3. Self-Loathing
I’m a masochist, but less like Fifty Shades of Grey and more like watching When Harry Met Sally… on a loop throughout the entirety of my sophomore year of high school. Therefore, watching a three and a half hour telecast of the Hollywood film industry congratulate itself for making middlebrow movies for lefty audiences is not unlike willingly allowing yourself to be placed in scenarios that I cannot comfortably write about lest it be seen as uncouth. So I’m used to this.
4. Twitter
You know what they say, Twitter is just an echo chamber where you can hear your own snarky comments thrown back at you, but sometimes spelled differently. But, hey, at least my echo chamber is nicely furnished with people who are less inclined to tolerate Neil Patrick Harris as Barney Stinson as Host, but with less unf. Yes, the briefcase/glass gag went on for too long. I know because I was amongst the din complaining about it. Tonight’s real winners, though, were the screengrabbers and the gif makers. They were the ones who really brought their best, like that gif of Meryl Streep reacting to Patricia Arquette’s speech or John Travolta leering at Benedict Cumberbatch. This night is for them.
5. Cynicism and Apathy
Ooh, college aged film snob is disillusioned about the Oscars and the establishment of the film industry, how original! To be fair, when your heart gets broken so many times (I’ll never forgive them for ignoring Kirsten Dunst in Melancholia), you build an armor to protect the soft, gooey heart that loves the movies.
