The Oscars and Shared Experience in the Age of Disconnection
Who doesn't love a little surprise?
The Academy Awards are here again. While Oscar’s big night™️ is a time to stare directly into the blinding straight white male privilege that pervades Hollywood, it’s also time for a shared experience. Like the Super Bowl last month, awards shows present what, these days, is an increasingly rare cultural moment: on Oscar night, many of us will happen to be watching the same thing at the same time. A rarity because most people 40 and under have moved on from television in favor of on-demand streaming services.
In this disconnected media landscape, major televised cultural events provide some of the last forms of synchronous communication within the American general public. Even if a person hasn’t set out to watch the Super Bowl, their housemates might be watching the game. This raised the likelihood of “catching” an event like the Oscars makes the for a potential shared cultural experience that won’t quite bring us together as much as provide a shared slate on which to form opinions on the outfits, the snubs, the host, and the event itself.
Like many others, I have always found live performance of any kind to be magical. Music, theater, poetry, storytelling, dance, comedy, drag, magicians, karaoke, campfires, even a host dancing their way through the “year in film” – anything involving somebody taking a creative chance, and an audience there to witness. I’ve never attended the Oscars, but for as long as I’ve been attending live events, I’ve had a moment during the performance when I think “oh wow – these are real people, evoking this (sound, feeling, etc.) right now in this room and after the room will be empty. We are so lucky to be here.” The ethereal nature of live performance helps us understand the ethereal nature of everything – the intense beauty of the present moment.
When we are acutely aware of the work that went into the sparse or elaborate set, the visible sweat on the dancer’s brow, or the warmth we feel while singing in unison with strangers, we approach something close to transcendence.
When we consciously understand that the creation in front of our very eyes will not happen the same way, in the same room, ever again, it’s a rare peek behind the veil of what our subconscious always knows: that this moment is everything. When we are deeply aware during live performance, we begin to notice. To be present. We are mindful without even trying to be. When we are acutely aware of the work that went into the sparse or elaborate set, the visible sweat on the dancer’s brow, or the warmth we feel while singing in unison with strangers, we approach something close to transcendence.
As much as The (old money accent) Academy likes to tout its ability to bring people together to share in cinema, the best time I ever had at a movie in my youth was at Rocky Horror Picture Show I attended my senior year of high school. I remember feeling confused that the lights were only dimmed, then deeply embarrassed at being asked to stand because it was my “first time” at the show. The joke was that haha you’re a virgin, which I was. But I and a few others stood up and blushed while a costumed audience screamed at and maybe heckled us. After that, I could relax and partake in the confusing thrill of most of the audience knowing every line and being really really into Tim Curry. It’s not the best movie I’ve ever seen, but I had the best time because of the fun and creative people who chose to make that night a shared experience. This experience was only surpassed when Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour film gave my kids a chance to dance and scream sing in a movie theater.
Magic, like most good things, is better when shared.
Sharing a space and a vibe also creates the perfect conditions for a shared surprise. In recent Oscar history, Will Smith’s assault on Chris Rock is an example of a sour surprise. But shared surprises are rare and and more often euphoric moments when, during an otherwise run-of-the-mill event, the whole group gets a little surprise. The bird on Bernie’s podium, the cat loose on the baseball field. Even better when the shared surprise happens at lower stakes events. Ducklings crossing a road. The more people are together to share in a creative experience, the more likely it is we will witness a surprise, which sometimes feel like magic. Magic, like most good things, is always better when shared.
As this publication is focused on disability, I don’t mean to suggest that physically being in a room is necessary, and I support accessible options to join from home as well as mask requirements for indoor events. Live televised events like awards shows and sports count as shared human experiences, too. Anyone who’s seen an “instant classic” game on television knows this is true. There is an ephemeral nature within all synchronous events, and event spaces should strive to be universally accessible. I wrote about what it was like to be Disabled at the Eras Tour, which I attended in person with my daughter. I have been thrilled to see the response to Swift’s Eras Tour movie, which gives access to not only the concert, but the shared experience of singing and dancing along with an adoring crowd. There is a human component in watching other humans create, dance, and sing, that viewing a film alone in your room does not touch. Hollywood©️ should take notice and make more movies we can dance to.
Erin Ryan Heyneman (she/they) is a disabled educator, creator, and speaker. She is also a Commissioner on her city’s Commission on Disability. Find the rest of her work here.
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