Ayesha Hazarika 

No tears, blather or preaching: how to make the perfect awards ceremony speech

The Baftas see the return of glitzy film and TV ceremonies. We want our favourites to win – but then, please, keep it snappy
  
  

Joe Pesci, at the 63rd Annual Academy Awards, 1991, Los Angeles; Gwyneth Paltrow cries as she gives her acceptance speech after winning the Oscar for Best Actress at the 71st Academy Awards March 21, 1999; Halle Berry accepting the Oscar for best actress at the 74th annual Academy Awards on Sunday, March 24, 2002.
Joe Pesci, Gwyneth Paltrow and Halle Berry giving acceptance speeches at the Oscars. Composite: Getty Images; Reuters; AP

It’s that time of year when we are about to be subjected to a huge number of speeches. It’s awards season. This evening will see the Bafta winners take to the stage and breathlessly say their heartfelt thank yous.

It’s always a wonderful thing to see a human being shine with joy and share their emotion. Until you get past the 20th category. This is where things can get long. When the thank yous start hitting the four- to five-minute mark, what was a fun celebration can quickly turn into a hostage situation with a strong possibility of developing deep vein thrombosis. No fancy awards ceremony wants to be giving out long-haul flight socks and a blood thinner to their guests. That’s why I fully support the decision by the organisers of this year’s Oscars to instruct all nominees to keep their speeches short and sweet. They have even advised winners not to mention their agents or managers.

They’re right. Where does it all lead to? Channelling Gwyneth Paltrow, weeping while thanking your dad’s butcher’s chiropodist. No! I don’t care how painful those bunions were. I regularly host awards ceremonies and they can be great fun, but the producers are very strict. Winners rarely get to make an acceptance speech on the grounds that we only have the room until midnight. There’s usually a nice, slick film about all the nominees, the winner’s name is read out by me or a guest presenter, they come on to the stage, get a shiny trophy and have a photograph taken to rapturous applause and Uptown Funk playing very loudly.

It’s all very jolly and, most importantly, pacey, so the audience stays engaged, which is critical to a good awards ceremony. Now I’m not suggesting these glitzy awards should stop winners making a speech, but every nominee should be reminded of Joe Pesci who holds the record for the shortest acceptance speech in Oscars history simply by saying five words: “It’s my privilege. Thank you.” The audience had barely finished clapping and he was off.

Ninety seconds is plenty of time to get your thank yous done. But producers need to be brutal about the 90-second rule. We creative egos need reining in at times and the threat of shaming us is the only language we understand. I’m not quite making the argument for a trapdoor on stage, but every nominee plus their agents and managers (who aren’t getting thanked) need to get a very stern memo saying that there is a hard stop after 90 seconds, and that some very loud music will start playing even if you are busy thanking your primary school teacher. It may even be Uptown Funk.

There is also the peril of actors deciding to use their acceptance speech to make what they think is an epoch-changing political point that will go down in history. It will, but probably for the wrong reason. I understand how frustrated we all are about literally everything on this bin-fire planet right now, but we really don’t need your hot take on geopolitics, Julian Assange or electoral reform. Boris Johnson is not going to fall because of your withering put-down on refugees (which I’ll agree with) and Putin isn’t going to call it a day as a result of you calling him a wrong ’un after you’ve thanked your pilates instructor.

Yes, people will want to send solidarity to the people of Ukraine but big political speeches rarely work at an awards do. In 2004, while picking up his first best actor award, Sean Penn made an “edgy” political gag about the missing weapons of mass destruction in Iraq which died on its arse.

There are, of course, powerful moments, often when there are historical firsts or nominees from under-represented groups break through, such as Halle Berry winning best actress for Monster’s Ball at the Oscars in 2002. She was in tears even before she reached the stage because she knew she stood on the shoulders of so many black actresses and she dedicated the award to them.

“This moment is so much bigger than me …. And it’s for every nameless, faceless woman of colour that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened.” Since then no woman of colour has won best actress, although six have won best supporting actress.

Sixteen years later, Frances McDormand used her winner’s speech in 2018 (best actress for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri) to make the case once again for diversity in the industry and call for inclusion riders. Clapping and cheering in the room doesn’t necessarily mean change happens fast.

We love these awards shows because of the glitz, glamour and stardust. We want to see our favourites ooze charisma and humour even when things go wrong. Jennifer Lawrence suffered the mortification of tripping up the stairs to the stage to collect the best actress award for Silver Linings Playbook in 2013. She was super quick on her feet – after she got back up on them – and in response to the standing ovation quipped, “You guys are just standing up because you feel bad that I fell, and that’s really embarrassing, but thank you. This is nuts.”

Grace, charm and wit. That’s what we want.

 

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