I Hate The Oscars – A Big Slap on The Back

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The Oscars in their entire stupid splendor just crashed by again. And I, as usual forced myself to sit and watch the Greek Gods of the 21st century parade across my TV screen. I’m not sure why I watch it – I don’t enjoy it. Yes, I go to the movies and I have an opinion as to who should win, but we all know, the Oscars are about money and entertainment politics –

so it is a trifle redundant. The crunch for me is the love/hate relationship I have with the movie stars of the silver screen.


A few years ago I was sitting at home with a ‘friend’ when a preview of actresses on the red carpet from the year before, flashed across the TV.  Like a feral cat, I spat out, “I am so sick of actresses being treated like models, who cares what they’re wearing? Its their performance that matters”.

My ‘friend’, who weighs over 200 pounds, sucked another spoonful of apple pie and custard into her mouth, “I’d thought you’d enjoy the Red Carpet?”

“I don’t like actresses being criticized for what they’re wearing, it’s the Oscars not the Milan cat-walk. I don’t know why they do it – its just rubbish,” I said.

My hamster friend, cheeks full of pie, sneered at me, “You’re just jealous.” Pause for disgruntled reaction. The nerve of her

I don’t remember my angry retort – I’m sure it was brilliant and yet rather pathetic, because sadly, I confess, I am a little envious. But who isn’t jealous of these modern day Gods? These mere humans elevated to Adonis and Venus status. 100 feet high on screens before us, perfect airbrushed smiles and digitally improved complexions. Then there’s the money, the travel, the adopted third-world children and the best doctors in the world. These people have it all and we get to watch them rub shoulders and pat each other on the back for being so wonderful, so bloody perfect. Of course I’m jealous, who isn’t?

This year, I watched the TV presenters as they interviewed the stars arriving. Once they were done with the interview, without even giving the actors a respectable ‘thanks and goodbye’, they turned their backs to them, casting them off like a shabby coat, ignoring them and smiled like hyena’s into camera,  “Over to you Richard”

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We cut to a ‘Stylist’ who immediately comments on the dress, hair and red carpet pose of the actress we were just sucking up to. And what does the stylist say? A man with a face stretched so taut against his cheekbones the skin looks ready to tear,

“Hate the dress, what was she thinking? Where is her stylist? Not happy with the hair or the pose - there she goes again - same hand on the same hip for every red carpet she does. No, bad choice of color – purple against the red carpet – poor choice – no, didn’t like that.”

 Who the hell is stretch-face to comment on an actress’s choice of dress or the way she stands for the camera – good grief – have we gone mad? Or are we all secretly, subconsciously desperate to slag them off and bring them down, because of their perfect lives? Isn’t that the ugly truth ?

I had a teeny taste of tiny fame for a couple of years, and a few people accused me of selling my soul to the media – which on reflection may have been true in some ways.  Forgive me, the pressure to build ones ‘celebrity’ to maintain your success is tremendous. The belief being, you must feed your own fame to continue working. So achieving a balance when the media is so eager to serve your career potential is near impossible.  But forget my b-list celebrity; consider our super-duper movie stars – where do they go, once they are up there, fulfilling our celebrity idolatry obsessed culture? They’re screwed.

So, no, I have decided, I am not jealous of them. Yes, I would like the freedom that comes with such wealth and the joys of being able to help others and travel the world. But, no, not at the expense of having the whole world scrutinize and rip apart my every move, smile or choice of footwear, you can stick that where the sun doesn’t shine.

Of course it is unlikely that I will ever truly know from experience, but if I do, I promise I’ll be the first to let you know, especially if I was wrong and it is paradise. Because lets admit it, you secretly love to hate them too, don’t you? And I wouldn’t want to deprive anybody of a jealous rant about me

© Words Samantha Robson



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Read 4791 times Last modified on Friday, 08 May 2015 16:30
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