I don’t do movies–not unless my granddaughter’s in it

At the 89th Academy Awards ceremonies, beamed live from the Dolby Theater in Hollywood, everything was flawless.

Well almost. At the end, it was déjà vu. It was Miss Universe 2016 all over again. And Steve Harvey was not even there.

So much has been written about the gaffe. Some reactions online were idiotic. One even claimed it was planned, and blamed it on “the” conspiracy.

It was a weird night. As Auli’i Cravalho (Moana) sang, she was accidentally hit by a dancer with a fabric prop. She winced ever so slightly but carried on. Quite poised and a real pro at 16.

Fun night

It was a fun night. Goody bags with candy, cookies and doughnuts fell from out of nowhere. The opener by Justin Timberlake made me want to get up and dance.

The White House and the Department of Homeland Security were the predictable targets of host Jimmy Kimmel’s monologue. It is sad that the blatant disrespect for the office of a US President, whoever he may be, is used for comic relief. And picking up from the same laugh line, Kimmel acknowledged “overrated” actress Meryl Streep. When she got up to take a bow, there was a thunderous standing ovation.

Kimmel did have one serious moment. He spoke about unity.

“I’m not the man to unite this country, but it can be done. You know, if every person watching this show—I don’t want to get too serious, but there are millions and millions of people watching right now—and if every one of you took a minute to reach out to one person you disagree with, someone you like, and have a positive, considerate conversation—not as liberals or conservatives, as Americans—if we could all do that, we can make America great again. We really could. It starts with us.”

I wish he had stayed on that tack. But he didn’t. Oscars night, after all, is not just about glitz and glamour. It is known for dishing out in-your-face contentious statements, for throwing barbs at whoever makes headlines, the higher their saddles the better.

I really didn’t much care who won. I knew nobody. As they called out names and titles of the nominees, I realized how out of touch I am with today’s movies.

I didn’t see any of the nominated pictures, so nothing was too exciting for me. But I had heard my kids and grandkids rave about “La La Land,” coaxing me to watch, assuring me I would enjoy it.

Old movies

I don’t know about that. I am still looking for old movies from way back when. There were no potty mouths then. No one bared bosoms or bottoms.

I want to watch (over and over again) “Casablanca,” “Wuthering Heights,” “Gone with the Wind,” “An Affair to Remember,” “Love Letters.” I guess I’m stuck in the past.

So don’t ask me which movie I thought would win. I was almost sure “La La Land” would get the statuette. And, as the world now knows, it almost did. Well, for a few minutes.

I hear that “Moonlight” deserved to win Best Picture—that it was the better entry. But don’t go by me. Remember, I don’t do movies.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I did go to a movie recently. I saw “Across the Crescent Moon.” It was exciting. Interesting. It dealt with different faiths and the prejudices and preconceived notions that surround them. It was enlightening; quite timely, too. It made me cry.

Forgive me. I’m a lola. My granddaughter was in it. It was her debut. And she was beautiful. I loved it.

Missed opportunities

The 31st anniversary of People Power made headlines last week. Like never before, we saw an ominous chasm dividing our people. It separated those who wanted a solemn celebration from those who, for some reason, feel that Edsa 1 is no longer relevant.

How did such a world-shaking event lose its significance after only three decades? Other countries mark their milestones with fervor, no matter if these happened centuries ago. What happened to us? Is it true that we have no sense of history? Just asking.

And so it happened that on People Power Day, there was a gathering at Edsa and another one at Rizal Park. One was a commemoration and the other a show of numbers, a flexing of muscles. Never have I seen this nation so divided. Sad.

Outside the shrine, an impassioned old guard was frustrated, offended by an implacable young fist in his face. He raised his voice and all but lost his temper. Do I blame him? Not one bit.

But could it be that he missed that one moment when a soft admonition, as from a disappointed father, could have made a difference?

I asked my wise friend: “With a fist in your face, what would you do?” She replied: “Proverbs 15. A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”

“You speak quietly, patiently as with your own child,” she added. “You show understanding. You give him the wisdom of your years. At the very least, the young man would have learned about mutual respect.”

I believe the other gathering missed it, too. They could have crossed over just for the day to mark that one unforgettable event in Philippine history. Together, as Filipinos.

There was nothing to lose. Well, perhaps a little pride. That’s all.

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