The View From Behind Light 518

(AKA: My Trip to the 2003 Academy Awards)

By

Jeff Wolverton


[This is an email I sent out Tuesday, March 25, 2003 after the short film I wrote, “The ChubbChubbs” won the Oscar for short animated film. All of it’s true except for the stuff I made up]:

HEY EVERYBODY!!

Okay, so I'm sure last Sunday you were all thinking the same thing I was thinking ("Holy shit- the Oscars are TODAY?!? Where'd I put the ticket?") and it's hard to put into words what it was like, mostly because of all the drinking, but I'll give it a shot:

First off: getting to the Kodak theater. I passed on taking the studio limo and riding in distinguished style with the producer in favor of riding with a bunch of drunk guys in a beatup rusted out piece of crap 1984 limo by buddy Ron rescued from the junkyard last year. (He insisted he washed it, but I could still write "WASH ME" on the hood quite clearly.)

So Ron, Chris and Jay (and me) left around 2:30 because I was told we'd have to wait in a line of cars for an hour and half-- but when we got there, the street was literally empty. Pro- and anti-war protesters were the only people that had showed up so far. I wanted to arrive when the cameras would be rolling (make Mom happy), so I told Ron to drive past the theater and we'd come back later. We went to the parking lot of a Safeway to kill the rest of the champagne and down a few beers (I'm told Nicole Kidman does the exact same thing before the Oscars.)

When we finally drove back we got to the 'gauntlet'-style line of cops we passed before and the head cop wouldn't let us in. He remembered our particular limo somehow (I guess the other limos are either less than twenty years old, or don't have "WASH ME" written in dirt on the hood.) The cop was NOT in the mood for don't-you-know-who-I-am jokes and literally made me walk four blocks to the theater, forcing me to pass through various angry protesting groups (As a safety I chanted whatever slogan was appropriate to the group I was passing through at the time.) It was very strange- one woman was made up to look like Joan Rivers, but covered in fake blood. Everybody was yelling and carrying signs and face paint yet I'M getting all the weird looks since I was the only guy in a tuxedo ("I'm, uh, protesting how no one ever dresses up for protests anymore.")

I finally made it to the last line of cops (after endless "If this is a real ticket, why aren't you in a limo?" questions. I explained I was a writer. "Then where's your Jetta?") and made it inside to do what everyone else does; wait for famous people.

In the main lobby everybody hangs out for hours before the show, hitting one of the zillions of open bars (oddly, you had to pay $4 any kind of food, but all booze was free.) I got in line at the bar behind Sir Sean Connery, and after he left (yes, I touched him) I told the bartender “I'll have whatever he’s having.” What he was having was apparently a tumbler of solid booze with two ice cubes, so the evening gets hazy after that. (Oscar Rule Number One: don't drink what the Scottish guy's drinking.)

Later I find Eric (our director) and Jacquie (our producer) and then.... I see Jennifer Garner (she played Elektra in Daredevil", is TV's "Alias" and generally one smokin' babe.) Eric mentions that she's presenting our category-- hence giving me an excuse not only to touch a famous person, but actually TALK to one as well! And a hottie to boot. I took a slug of Connery's moonshine and went up to her:


    Me: "Hi! You're presenting for best animated short, right?
    Her: "Yes, I am."
    Me: "I'm Jeff Wolverton, I was the writer on the ChubbChubbs."
    Her: "Oh, hey, great! They used that as the winner in rehearsal."
        (...must...)
    Me: "Really? Cool!"
        (...not...)
    Her: "I hope you win."
        (...stare...)
    Me: "Thanks! I hope so too."
        (...at...)
    Me: "Hey, I also worked for a few months on-"
        (...breasts...)
    Me: "-that shot of you in the rain in Daredevil."
        (...whoops, damn. did she notice...)
    Her: "Oh, wonderful! I loved that shot! Thank you!"
        (...just did it again. Get out of there you fool....)
    Me: "Yeah, I hope they make that Elektra spinoff."
        (...for God's sake man, that's three in a row. Mission abort...)
    Me: "Wellitwasgreatmeetingyouloveyourworkbyenow."
        (...at least look at her eyes as you leave...'Eyes', not 'ass'!...)

   So that went pretty well. We all had champagne and saw celebrities too numerous to mention. Then lights blink and we take our seats for the show. Now, as I mentioned before (Mom!) only the director is the actual nominee, so only he was sitting on the main floor. But Jacquie and I had seats in the very front row… of the third balcony. This is actually a dangerous place to be; in front of us is a low railing about two feet tall, then a hundred foot drop straight down into some famous person's cleavage. And let me tell you, shuffling past people to get to the bathroom and trying NOT to topple off is tough, especially after downing the Connery special (the reason for the frequent bathroom trips in the first place.)

Finally I'm sitting down as the show begins (I was fascinated by this giant flying camera rig that was nearby, and kept having to quell a desire to ride it out over the crowd. Champagne at this point obviously kicking in.)

There were klieg lights in front of us, and for some reason the one in front of me had a piece of masking tape with the number '518' written on it. I took this as a good sign. I have, for several weeks now, been taking EVERYTHING as a good sign. ("Hey- yellow traffic light! Yellow, like gold, like an Oscar! What're the odds? Hey, another one!") Light 518 did block my view partially though, so I kept having to lean precariously forward to see down the dresses of the famous people on the main floor.

Our category was fifth, and my buddy Garner gets out there with Mickey Mouse (who, I'm sure even those watching the show on TV at home know, is actually real.) Mickey says we WON and I jump up out of my seat-- which flipped up when I stood so when I came back down I kinda jarringly bounced forward off of it, almost spilling forward over light 518 and taking a gainer into the crowd. ("Wow, there's a guy who REALLY wanted to accept.")

Some of you (okay, mostly Mom) complained that Eric didn't mention my name in his acceptance speech. BUT I was totally, utterly fine with that. He was told to only say four names and I though his choices were appropriate, I thought his choices were good ones, and I thought it went well. Then again, I also thought I was married to Jennifer Garner and was planning on riding the camera down to be with her after I kicked Mickey's ass for leering at my wife. (The second Connery special I had was kicking in by then.)

So after that we all went down to meet Eric and hold the statuette and the envelope and hang out with all the other people who skipped the rest of the awards after winning. I did see some of it on the monitors but without sound. Who won?

Afterwards I got my camera back from security and took some pictures, then shared the executive producer's limo (which, unlike Ron's, has air conditioning. And hubcaps.) We all toasted and celebrated our win and I was planning on buying everyone Connery Specials but by that point I was having trouble remembering who 'Connery' was and what was so special about him.

Finally, some answer to common questions I keep getting over and over from people: Do I get an Oscar statuette? No, I was the writer. Do I get the envelope? No, I was the writer. A certificate of some sort? No, I was the writer. Do I get anything at all? Yes, I do (swiped one of those fancy boxes of mints they had near the bathroom.) Also, I got to drink a LOT of free booze (as I said, I was the writer.)

BYE ALL! THANKS FOR WATCHING!

-Jeff


    PICTURES: Randomly selected photos from the day.
    Instructions:
    A) Go to this link:  http://www.worldisround.com/articles/15824/photo1.html
    B) Look at picture. Read title above picture. Scroll down to read pithy comments beneath picture. Laugh politely as if you thought it was funny. Click 'next' to go to the next picture.