WHAT THE PUBLIC DOESN'T SEE DURING THE OSCARS BROADCAST

When the Oscars are mentioned, the images that come to mind are those of movie stars on the red carpet in eye-catching outfits, followed by the show itself, featuring jokes that are sometimes unfunny, and, of course, the awards presentations. But for those who cover the event as journalists, there is a unique and rarely publicized perspective. Unfortunately, in most cases, it is not glamorous in the slightest... Covering the Oscars is work. It is charming and fun work, to be sure, but it is work nonetheless.

I covered around nine Oscars ceremonies between 1991 and 2001, and I decided to share with you a bit of what I observed behind the scenes of what is arguably the most famous and important awards ceremony in the world of Hollywood cinema.

During those years, I worked as a correspondent for “TV Cultura” and the newspaper “O Dia”, as well as for “Vídeo News” magazine and many other Brazilian and international publications and television networks.

The first time I ventured behind the scenes of the Oscars was in 1991. That year, TV Globo was broadcasting the event live, and Paulo Henrique Amorim, who headed Globo’s New York bureau, decided to come to Los Angeles to cover it personally. I was hired to serve as the local producer; joining me were David Presas, a producer from New York, and cameraman Orlando Moreira. They arrived two days early, and Paulo Henrique asked me to take them to a few of the city’s iconic landmarks to film some segments.

Since Globo was broadcasting the show, they had a dedicated trailer located behind the theater and a guaranteed spot on the red carpet. After filming these reports, on the day of the event, the team gathered in their trailer; however, they had full access to the theater, allowing them to discreetly observe the show’s rehearsals.

That year, the Oscars ceremony took place at the Shrine Auditorium, a 1926 theater designed in the Moorish Revival style by theater architect G. Albert Lansburgh. A total of 10 Oscar ceremonies have been held there since 1947; in addition to the Oscars, numerous Grammy ceremonies, the BET Awards, the SAG Awards, and the 1933 world premiere of “King Kong” all took place there.

Unfortunately, the only thing I caught a fleeting glimpse of on stage was Madonna rehearsing the song "Sooner or Later" from the film “Dick Tracy”, a song that would go on to win the Oscar for Best Original Song. I say "fleeting glimpse" because I was walking around the theater attending to requests from the crew; there was no opportunity to stop and watch at my leisure. Especially since the security guards would complain if I did. However, I do remember that later on, as I was leaving through the back exit on my way to my trailer, I saw a blonde young woman sitting on the stairs with her back to me. As I walked past her, I noticed that she needed to dye her hair, as her dark roots were already clearly visible. Next, I noticed that her toenails, clad in a pair of cheap, flimsy plastic sandals, were in urgent need of a pedicure. The badly chipped polish gave her an air of total neglect. It wasn't until I had finished descending the steps and looked back that I realized who she was. The young woman sitting so humbly on the stairs was the Queen of Pop herself: Madonna.

Later that evening, during the show, she took the stage with a flawless hairstyle, platinum blonde, and with her fingernails and toenails gleaming dazzlingly, polished to a finish worthy of a luxury automobile.

In the years that followed, I covered the event for various magazines, newspapers, and television stations, yet I never once sat in the audience. Accredited journalists, dressed in elegant tuxedos, and evening gowns, remained gathered in the press room: an adjoining chamber situated far from the stage, where we watched the ceremony on TV monitors while typing away on our laptops and talking on our phones.

Whenever someone won an award, the lucky recipient would be escorted to the press room, where, standing on a small stage facing us, they would field questions from the assembled journalists during a brief, hurried press conference. Next, they were escorted to the photographers' room, known as the “animal room”, because the award winners were greeted by the strident shouts of the press photographers, who bellowed their names so they would turn around and be photographed by the ones with the strongest lungs and the most deafening screams. It was a nightmare.

It was on one of those nights, in 1993, at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, somewhere between the press room and the “animal room”, that I saw three legends of Italian cinema passing by. Walking down the hallway were Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni, accompanying director Federico Fellini, who was there to receive an honorary Oscar. I could hear Fellini say to Mastroianni: “Cosa vuoi, Marcelino?”, meaning, “What do you want, little Marcello?” I found it delightful. Fellini, at 73, calling Mastroianni, then 69, as if he were a little boy... A truly Felliniesque moment.

Although we spent the night in black tie, rubbing shoulders with movie stars, for the journalists present, the work only began once the stage lights went out. We had to write our stories, edit our video footage, and send them off to our respective media outlets. But for the stars, the night was just getting started.

At the end of the show, the guests headed to the “Governors Ball”, the official, exclusive after-party hosted by the Academy of Hollywood. It was the first celebration where winners, nominees, and industry leaders could dine and socialize.

For over 30 years, renowned chef Wolfgang Puck has curated the menu, featuring an incredibly chic buffet. There was also a designated area where winners could officially have their names engraved on their statuettes. I never actually got into this party. I don't believe any journalist like myself ever attended. Perhaps only a few press celebrities, the likes of Oprah or Barbara Walters.

To this day, in addition to the "Governors Ball," a series of other ultra-luxurious celebrations take place across the city. Obtaining invitations to these parties, which are generally tied to specific studios, is extremely difficult.

In the late 1990s, having already covered Hollywood for a long time, I began receiving sporadic invitations to some of these parties.

In 2001, I was invited to the city’s hottest post-Oscar party, held at Spago Beverly Hills, Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant.

Arriving directly from the Shrine Auditorium, where the awards ceremony had taken place, I pulled my car into the valet line right behind a Mercedes. Stepping out of that car was none other than Steven Spielberg.

That night, I made my entrance in style: clad in my tuxedo, walking the red carpet, and waving to my fellow journalists who were still there on the job, covering the party.

However, my expectations, of finally immersing myself in the city’s hottest event, at its trendiest restaurant, alongside the cream of the Hollywood crop, collided head-on with the harsh reality of the American film industry and its rigid rules and restrictions.

The room was teeming with celebrities, some of whom had taken home awards that very night. Yet we, the handful of invited journalists, felt like a group of diabetics touring a candy factory. We were not authorized to conduct interviews with anyone amidst the festivities. Casual conversation? Sure, provided the artist was in the mood to chat. But a formal interview? Absolutely not.

And photographs? Don't even ask. They were strictly forbidden by the organizers. If anyone dared to take a photograph, they would have to use a very inconspicuous camera, for back in 2001, few cell phones could take pictures. Breaking these rules meant summary and humiliating expulsion from the party, along with subsequent repercussions. In other words: no future coverage opportunities...

If you imagine this party was some sort of wild bacchanal, with inebriated stars groping one another, you are completely mistaken. Hollywood parties attended by actors, directors, agents, and studio executives are always strictly professional gatherings. The crowd seizes these opportunities to pitch new projects, engage in self-promotion, and advance their careers. It’s strictly business; after all, Hollywood is show business!

The only option was to look, smile, and soak up the star-studded atmosphere, without touching. To eat and drink only the very best, and nothing more. And that is exactly what I did.

I returned home feeling pleasantly buzzed, with the taste of champagne still lingering on my tongue. But upon my arrival, I received the best news in the world: my wife informed me that she was pregnant. It was even better than winning an Oscar.

The End

CONTINUING MY MEMORIES OF THE 1999 OSCARS

On March 8, 1999, I had the pleasure of interviewing Fernanda Montenegro in the gardens of the Beverly Hills Hotel—one of the most traditional and iconic landmarks of old Hollywood. Built in 1912, the hotel has hosted stars such as John Lennon, Marilyn Monroe, and Lauren Bacall. It is said that the ghosts of Clark Gable and his wife, Carole Lombard, still linger there.

The interview was broadcast on TV Cultura, where I was working as their correspondent in Los Angeles for the programs Vitrine and Metrópolis. Fernanda was in town promoting the film Central Station, which was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film, and she herself was nominated for Best Actress, alongside English-language stars such as Gwyneth Paltrow, Cate Blanchett, Meryl Streep, and Emily Watson.

After the interview, Fernanda invited me to lunch at a Chinese restaurant. I accepted, thrilled by the invitation.

While we ate, she told me something that moved me even more. Both she and her husband, the actor Fernando Torres, were close friends of my parents, Moysés and Rosa Weltman.

The most surprising revelation was that the very first person my father told about his engagement to my mother was Fernanda herself.

To help you revisit and enjoy the Central Station saga and Fernanda’s journey at the 1999 Oscars, here are excerpts from that interview.

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Wladimir Weltman – Fernanda, how do you see the competition in this final stretch?

Fernanda Montenegro – The fact that Roberto Benigni’s film is nominated in two categories increases our chances. If it had been nominated only for Best Foreign Language Film, it would be much more difficult. And, apparently, his film had a $25 million advertising campaign. Central Station didn’t have those millions to promote itself.

Wladimir Weltman – And in your category, how do you see the race?

Fernanda Montenegro – I’m facing a much more intense and competitive environment, where the investments are far greater. I’m a South American actress, from a film that cost three million reais. I’m in this race, and I’m amazed. What are my chances? If they vote based on investment, I have none. They may vote for the younger actresses—they are the ones. They’re wonderful, extremely capable, and they represent the future of Hollywood. Meryl Streep is already a very established name; she’s nominated almost every year. I’m an outsider. And the language is the biggest barrier.

Wladimir Weltman – What do you think of the American press?

Fernanda Montenegro – They’re very curious about me. They find it intriguing that a woman who is no longer young suddenly arrives in the United States and competes for an award of this magnitude. I gave a two-hour interview to a journalist from Los Angeles, and he told me the spirit of the article would be this: the Fernanda Montenegro phenomenon, the surprise of a non-American, not young, known only in her own country, who appeared out of nowhere to compete for an Oscar. So you see, I’ve become a phenomenon (laughs).

Wladimir Weltman – But it was your peers, the actors, members of the Academy, who nominated you…

Fernanda Montenegro – That’s very beautiful. In Los Angeles, everyone, famous or not, is an actor or works in something related to the performing arts. And I’ve been received very warmly here. The other day, after an interview on an American TV network, the show’s producer came to greet me. She said, “I never leave my office to shake anyone’s hand, no matter who the guest is. But I wanted to come and tell you how wonderful your film is and how great your work is.” And she showered me with compliments. It’s been like that everywhere.

Wladimir Weltman – And what would you like to say to Brazilian fans?

Fernanda Montenegro – I think we’ll at least win the Oscar for the film. But if we don’t win anything, no collective depression. As extraordinary as it is, this is still just a film award. From Kazakhstan to Berlin, we’ve won more than thirty awards, but because it’s the Oscar, people forget all the others. The film remains the same, and our work will remain forever recorded in it. That alone is already a great achievement. It’s our gift to the Brazilian people.

TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS LATER, RELIVING OSCAR EMOTIONS…

 

At this moment, as we celebrate five Oscar nominations for Brazilian films and talents, I decided to dig through my archives and came across old news reports from 1999, when Walter Salles’s Central Station was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film and our Fernanda Montenegro for Best Actress.

At the time, in addition to working as a correspondent for TV Cultura’s programs Vitrine and Metrópolis, I also wrote for the Rio de Janeiro newspaper O DIA.

On February 9, I was in New York for a press conference for an American film when I learned that Walter and Fernanda’s film had been nominated. They were staying at a hotel very close to mine, and I rushed over, hoping to speak with them.

When I arrived in the lobby, I ran into two other journalists from Brazil, whose names I unfortunately no longer remember. The hotel staff wouldn’t let us go upstairs, as the fifth floor—where the nominees were staying—was already crowded with journalists. One of the Brazilian reporters, smarter than I was, called their suite and let them know that the three of us were in the lobby trying to get upstairs.

Minutes later, Walter appeared. He walked toward me and said that he had made a point of coming down to speak with me because, years earlier, when he worked at TV Manchete, my father—one of the network’s directors—had greatly encouraged him to pursue his career as a filmmaker.

I was deeply moved by this and tried to remain as professional as possible, interviewing him in the hotel bar for the Rio de Janeiro newspaper. Here is the interview I sent to Brazil that day. In retrospect, what he says feels almost prophetic in light of this year’s nominations.

BRAZIL AT THE OSCARS

NEW YORK – At 8:38 a.m. today, New York time, the 1999 Oscar nominations were announced: Central Station, by Walter Salles, in the Best Foreign Language Film category, and Fernanda Montenegro in the Best Actress category.

According to specialists, the only obstacle standing between the Brazilian film and an Oscar—after its Golden Globe win a few weeks earlier—is its main competitor, Life Is Beautiful, by Italian actor and director Roberto Benigni, which received seven nominations. Had Benigni’s film been nominated only for Best Picture, our chances of winning would be extremely strong. But since, surprisingly, it is competing in both categories, predicting the outcome becomes much more difficult. We’ll have to suffer, cheering until the very last minute.

Fernanda, nominated alongside Gwyneth Paltrow, Meryl Streep, Emily Watson, and Cate Blanchett (the Golden Globe winner), has slimmer odds of winning the Best Actress Oscar. Still, the nomination itself—especially in a category traditionally reserved for English-speaking actresses—is already reason enough to celebrate. It demonstrates the respect and admiration the American artistic community has for our star. Even so, you never know. There’s always a chance she could win. And she certainly deserves it.

Our reporter went to the Regency Hotel on Park Avenue in New York to speak with our nominees.

O DIA – How did you receive the news?

Walter Salles – The moment they announced Fernanda as an Oscar nominee for Best Actress was incredibly emotional. We were watching together—Fernanda, her husband Fernando Torres, and I. When we heard her name, we hugged each other, and the euphoria was so intense that we didn’t even hear the names of the other nominees. Only much later did we find out that Gwyneth Paltrow, Meryl Streep, Cate Blanchett, and Emily Watson had the privilege of being nominated alongside Fernanda (laughter). And when they announced the Best Foreign Language Film category, the same thing happened. Since Central Station was among the first names called, we didn’t know who the other nominees were for quite some time—the joy and excitement were overwhelming.

O DIA – And how do you see your chances, given that Life Is Beautiful is competing in two categories and, in a way, clears a path for Central Station?

Walter Salles – The Oscars are foreign territory to me—completely unknown ground. The Academy follows its own inscrutable rules. Making any kind of prediction at this point would be very risky. I don’t feel in a position to say anything. In fact, there was never any certainty that we would be nominated at all. Today is a moment of joy—joy for the recognition not only of Central Station, but of Brazilian cinema as a whole, which is once again being seen as something strong and representative of a great country that was silenced for a long time due to political and economic circumstances. We’re also happy to be bringing good news to Brazil.

O DIA – How do you feel about the warm reception your film has received from American audiences?

Walter Salles – I feel very comfortable with it. The film earned its place on its own merits, not through a marketing campaign, which is so common in a competitive economy like this. We didn’t have the publicity that other films had. The difference in advertising budgets between a film like Benigni’s and ours was about 12.6 to 1. Central Station is being promoted through word of mouth—and that’s very gratifying.

O DIA – Do you have any theory to explain this success?

Walter Salles – Reading the reviews of Central Station published here, you notice a recurring theme: critics see it as a film about the possibility of hope—about people finding a chance to redesign their lives. It also speaks to human solidarity. That resonates everywhere. The film believes in the possibility of human connection, and that has generated receptivity around the world. And it is, above all, an essentially Brazilian film. It seeks a real, profound Brazil. This integrity of purpose is on the screen, and it’s recognized.

O DIA – Has there been criticism from Brazilians who dislike seeing this side of the country portrayed?

Walter Salles – Covering up the truth doesn’t serve the country. We need to talk about who we are—and who we might become. We need to rediscover the importance of solidarity. The film reflects Brazil’s current reality, but it also advocates transformation. José’s character represents precisely that: the possibility of reconnecting with one’s roots, with family, and of reinventing ourselves—of founding a new country. Talking about this without showing our problems would make the film ineffective. If it resonated both inside and outside Brazil, it’s because it doesn’t hide what’s happening. At the same time, it calls for change.

O DIA – Brazilians have always known Fernanda’s greatness. How do you feel about introducing her talent to the rest of the world?

Walter Salles – I feel deeply honored by the opportunity the film provided. Fernanda is far greater than the film itself—she transcends it. One of the most beautiful outcomes of Central Station’s success is that this extraordinary talent will now be shared with the world. Others will have the privilege of discovering Fernanda alongside us. There’s nothing better than that.

O DIA – And what do these nominations represent for Brazilian cinema?

Walter Salles – They represent the certainty of our rebirth—the rebirth of Brazilian cinema after years of forced silence. They confirm that we have our own talent in this field, talent that deserves respect and continuity. It’s pointless to have three films nominated for an Oscar if no others follow with similar reach. The key issue now is continuity—the possibility that other films will emerge, carrying forward what the masters of Cinema Novo began. My hope is that many more Brazilian films will come and achieve an even more significant trajectory than those made during this period of resurgence.

#Oscars #CentralStation #WalterSalles #FernandaMontenegro #WladimirWeltman #WagnerMoura #KleberMendonçaFilho #OAgenteSecreto

THE CRITICS CHOICE AWARDS AVANT-PARTY

Every year, on the eve of the Critics Choice Awards, members of the association gather for a private celebration marking another year of work. Yesterday’s event took place at the Fairmont Hotel in Santa Monica, where film critic Leonard Maltin was honored by the CCA for his lifetime dedication to cinema.

Leonard has published several books on film and is one of the few critics who are members of the Hollywood Academy. I took the opportunity to congratulate him and take a photo together. I also enjoyed reconnecting and taking photos with my colleagues from Brazil—journalists Cleide Klock, Jana Nascimento, and Rodrigo Salem. It was a wonderful gathering for all of us.

#CriticsChoiceAwards #LeonardMaltin #CleideKlock #JanaNascimento #RodrigoSalem #WladimirWeltman