I will, in the near future, discuss my reaction to the 2021 Oscar telecast (for the 2020 awards), which was a decidedly hit-and-miss affair, to my eyes, and which, in microcosm, is reflected through one of its segments, the “In Memoriam” tribute to global film personnel who passed away over the last fourteen months or so since last year’s telecast.
The producers for this telecast, headed by Steven Soderbergh, made some dramatic changes to the Oscar show, some of which are evident in the “In Memoriam” segment. Like the show itself, this segment is often controversial for viewers, usually because someone’s film favorite has been left off the list. This happened again Sunday night, even though the montage squeezed some ninety-five (95) people into the three-minute-one-second (3:01) running time of the Stevie Wonder song which accompanied the visuals. And that song, in itself, was unusual, and probably controversial to some as well. Wonder’s “Always” is an upbeat, almost peppy tune, which some viewers have criticized; I was surprised by its choice, but not horrified. It was a bold choice, but it somehow seemed to fit the occasion, which has almost always called for dirge-like performances of minor-key heartache songs like last year’s “Yesterday.”
Because the music was inordinately peppy, it matched the pace of the faces, names and titles flashing by every two seconds or so. The lesser known were barely given one second each, while the brightest stars (Olivia de Havilland; Ennio Morricone; Sean Connery; Chadwick Boseman) lasted a little longer than the others. I admit that it was disconcerting to have whole careers flash by like cars passing on a nearby highway, especially when many of them are behind-the-scenes personnel or executives virtually unknown to the movie-watching public. I know the Hollywood scene pretty well for an observer and even I didn’t recognize at least a dozen people that made the list.
Sadly, the pace was deemed necessary due to the terrible year we have all undergone. Age and infirmity take lives each year, and the Covid pandemic certainly added to the number. Ninety-five people is a lot to identify in just three minutes; it’s no wonder that critics are crying foul on either the pace, or the music selection or both. Without a choice like the full seven-minute version of “American Pie,” (yet another upbeat song), however, I don’t know everybody can be appeased. I actually think the producers did a pretty fair job putting this segment together; it was far better than nothing, and the rapid pace thankfully dissuaded people to applaud for their favorite passed individuals (something that always bothered me; applause should be held for everyone, not just one’s favorites).
Yet I too was disappointed, even with ninety-five people being honored. Why? Here’s a list of show biz people who died in 2020 who did not make the list: Jessica Walter. Peter Hunt (director). Ann Reinking. Kenny Rogers. Reni Santoni. Dawn Wells. Stuart Gordon (director). Tanya Roberts. James Hampton. Naya Rivera. Lyle Waggoner. Barbara Shelley. Lewis John Carlino (writer). John Saxon. Pamela Tiffin. Adam Schlesinger (songwriter). Stuart Whitman. Julie Strain. Movie and TV fans should know most of these names; they represent James Bond films, Oscar-nominated performances and songs, popular comedies, horror films and kick-ass action movies. Some of these people made more than one hundred films in their careers, yet they were deemed less important than the ninety-five who were chosen. It rankles me that these professionals were ignored, although I understand the time constraints. I simply wish that a longer song had been chosen, and more time had been devoted — especially after the year we have struggled through — to consider how deeply the industry has been affected, and to privately remember those people whose movies meant so much to us.
It would have been nice for the Oscars to give these neglected individuals a fitting final public send-off. And it would have been nice for those who were mentioned, like Rhonda Fleming and Linda Manz and Paula Kelly, to get more than a couple of seconds of recognition. The show gave a stupid song trivia contest (which concluded with Glenn Close wildly shaking her butt; that was dignified) more time than the “In Memoriam” segment, and that is a crying shame. Sometimes the show remains tone-deaf; I think this was one of those times.