TV’s grandaddy was once the Academy Awards. Old fossils, young watchers, small ratings, big disconnects between Them and Us and granddad’s become grandpa.
New kid on the block is the Independent Spirit Awards. One day before the Oscars. Outside in a tent, not inside a theater. Come-as-you-are sweats to silks wardrobe. Studios grind out “Son of Batman,” “Cousin of Batman.” Indies created “Boyhood,” “Birdman,” “Whiplash,” “Selma,” “Still Alice,” ”Foxcatcher,” “A Most Violent Year” . . .
Honorary chair Kerry Washington’s arrival was choreography. “I’m with the company driving her,” said a lady juggling a cell, earpiece and clipboard. “As the Lincoln car comes, I signal photographers so we shoot her getting out of it.”
Jared Leto, what’s it like to be up for an Oscar?: “Very daunting.”
Adrien Brody: “I just did ‘Dragon Blade’ with Jackie Chan. It’s big in China. I fought him, kicked him with a sword. A fun film.” Then he walked the whole line of screaming fans.
Alfred Molina: “My ‘Love Is Strange’ with John Lithgow is out there. I’m often nominated for best supporting actor. Big surprise, right?”
Sponsor Piaget hung diamond earrings on Jessica Chastain and Kristen Bell. Swore its huckster: “There’s a waiting list for our thinnest wristwatch in the world. Thickness of a quarter. Matt Bomer from ‘The Normal Heart’ wants one.”
The Indies are getting classy.
I can neither see nor get ‘Nether’
MCC Theater premiered London’s new award-winning play “The Nether” at the Lucille Lortel. Its artistic director is Robert LuPone, Patti’s brother. So is his sister in this? Answer: “No. I can’t hire her. She won’t work that cheap.”
Opening night I heard Cherry Jones, Olympia Dukakis, Eric Bogosian, Norbert Leo Butz, Neil LaBute planned to attend. So I, too, decided to attend.
Robert LuPone explained its context to me in advance. I just never understood what the hell this very nice man said:
“It’s interpretive post-apocalyptic second life. The playwright’s interrogation to unearth and discover this Internet Web site wherein we’re asked: ‘what’s real, what’s unreal’ in terms of virtual reality. Nothing really is real anymore.
“Information’s now so accessible. Yesterday, you took time to read a book. Today, in one second push a button, and you’re lost in fantasy. Is Avatar a real person? Yes or no? You put a head on it, you put an arm on it. All’s a mystery. Life is no longer real.”
I never saw the show. I just got in my car and left. I couldn’t understand what the hell he was talking about.
Told you so
Kindly let it be known my Oscar predictions were A-OK: “Birdman,” Redmayne, Julianne, Arquette, J.K. Simmons. Kindly let it be known.
Odds & ends
Sept. 14 Hugh Jackman opens at Birdland . . .
Two Michael Feinstein items: 1) He took the subway to star in his Carnegie Hall concert. 2) Walking the other day, he slid. Multiple leg fracture. Foot doc Rock Positano placed him in a boot . . .
TV’s retread magazine shows are retreading in ratings. Could maybe be “The Insider” and its long yellow-haired blondes may be soon outside maybe . . .
A good cause
Late word is Roseanne, Whoopi, Gaga, Madonna, Seal, Pink, Rihanna, Bono, Shakira are coming together to host a benefit concert. They’re raising money to buy Cher a last name.
A recent comment from a Park Avenue socialite: “Press a button for coffee, future cars drive themselves, machines do surgery, computers fly planes, our housekeeper’s vacuum self-cleans — next up my best friend will be a robot.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.