Jo Jeeta, woh Avatar nahin!
So its done. The biggies in the Awards season are finally over - the Globes, the BAFTAs and the king of them all, the Oscars. Back home, our desi version, the Filmfare is also over. The last glass of champagne has been emptied, the tuxes and gowns have been sent for dry-cleaning, soon to be wrapped away carefully or returned to its owners.
The results of these awards ceremonies are never surprising. We all knew 3 idiots and Paa would bag a few awards. The Hurt Locker, with its critical acclaim and relevant theme was a shoo-in at the Oscars, as was its rival Avatar with its cutting edge technology- especially since mostly the same people won at the other ceremonies as well. And as Steve Martin said, no matter what, Meryl Streep is given a nomination every year for the heck of it, and each year, she will not win. Back home, we have our very own Meryl Streep in Aamir Khan who also once again got nominated in a category and did not win! Still, it was refreshing to see Firaaq get lauded at an awards ceremony famous for awarding commercial successes and big banners. This is just more proof of the promising film revolution that is building momentum in Bollywood today!
In spite of all the predictability, hundreds of families tune in to root for their favourite films of the year or in the case of the Oscars, movies most of them have not really heard of. This year however, I felt it was all very bleh. Its not just that it is disparaging time and again to see us ape the West. The red carpet was excruciating to say the very least. Also, I think the Filmfare invitations had a note that might have gone something like: Young and trying to be young persons please to grace this occasion in an expensive gown. Eternally young at heart persons, please to grace occasion with your august presence in traditional attire of your choice.
In the West, the exquisitely crafted gowns and haute couture worn are usually either actresses honouring contracts with glamourous fashion houses or designers showcasing their talent. I was sad to see our Indian actresses squeezed into Louis Vuitton and Valentino, in styles worn by Hollywood in various events over the recent past. I remember thinking how refreshing Karishma looked on stage in a simple salwar kameez, many years ago, and how interesting that everyone brought their mothers (yes Karan, I know I cannot point a finger at you). They had their own style, too cool to care about the rest of us but it wasn't even just that. If 'Who are you wearing?' is also going to be yelled out here, at least give Indian designers a chance to showcase their talent.
Also, I'm sick of the cheesy slapstick and sexual innuendo that the Filmfare hosts spew every year. It has all the humour of a derailed train. The barbs taken and the insults shot back were also as natural as Rakhee Sawant's body.
In the West, the Academy Awards fared no better. In recent years the ratings for the Oscars have been dipping, and is it any wonder? There were no surprise wins, the partnership between Baldwin and Martin was far from memorable and one category was announced with interpretive dance! I think George Clooney's WTF expression said it all.
To top it off, all the gowns were beautiful and elegant, strapless and usually frilly, but frankly boring. What happened to the avant garde, the savoir faire? The dresses that adorned the women were a far cry from Bjork's memorable swan dress or Halle Berry's Elie Saab dress when she picked up the Oscar. In the 1980s, Cher used her Oscar costume to protest against not being given the respect she deserved. Going further back in history, Bette Davis used a dowdy 'housekeeper' dress to rebel against her 'servitude' or 7 year contract to Warner Bros. In 1997, Nicole Kidman wearing John Galliano's simple "Absinthe" creation created such an uproar, that Vogue's Anna Wintour realised that stars in designer fashion were proving a more powerful force than supermodels. The only memorable outfits this time, ironically, was Robert Downey Jr's delightful wackiness and Nick Park wearing a home-made green plasticine neck-tie. I mean, if these guys aren't kookie, whats to set them apart from the common man?
Added to this, everyone accepted their awards with dignity, graciously making meaningful speeches. There was no Roberto Benigni euphoria or Scorcese emotion involved which was the grey cherry on a very banal cake. As I rightfully mentioned earlier, it was all so very bleh!
As Steve Martin rightfully quipped, 'Ladies and gentlemen, this show lasted so long that Avatar now takes place in the past.' Does anyone else feel that nowadays, the media hype being created about these ceremonies is inversely proportional to its quality?
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