There weren't a lot of surprises at last night's 80th Oscar Ceremonies. The Coen Bros. did well with four wins for No Country for Old Men—my personal favorite film of the year. Daniel Day-Lewis and Javier Bardem dominated the actor categories from the beginning, while it was anyone's guess which actresses would walk away with awards. If anything, the biggest surprise for me was when The Golden Compass beat Transformers and Pirates 3 for best visual effects. I guess the Oscar voters dig those CG polar bears.

I enjoyed Jon Stewart's irreverent jabs at an all-too-insular Hollywood ("...before spending the next 4 to 5 hours giving each other golden statues, let’s take a moment to congratulate ourselves"). Stewart has a knack for making all of us at home laugh at the town's absurdity, whilst leaving all of the Oscar attendees squirming in their seats. It's fun to watch—at least from the comfort of home.

But the night's best moment came when two strangers from halfway around the globe sang a moving duet together, and minutes later accepted the award for Best Original Song. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova's charming song "Falling Slowly," from their little film Once proved that Hollywood can still recognize a little magic when they see it (or hear it). Their film, shot in a few weeks with a couple handycams for less than a $100,000 didn't look like much when put up against the polished work of the Coen Bros. or P.T. Anderson—but it may have had more heart and more soul than any of the other films recognized that night. The two young lovers—partners on film and in real life—had shared their souls with us through their art, and even Hollywood had to recognize that. Something that personal stands out pretty well amongst the films being made these days.

The young nobodies found themselves on stage, greeted by the most genuine cheers of the night (pull it up on YouTube and just watch the reactions of George Clooney, Daniel Day-Lewis, Jonah Hill, and others as the duo make their way to the stage). The truth is, for most of the people in that audience, I think they identified with the two young dreamers on that stage. Once, they too had been strangers plucked out of obscurity and honored for their talents. Some have won Oscars, others are still waiting for their due. But they all know the dream.

When I was a kid, I remember the rare Oscar speech that would challenge me or encourage me to go make movies. Hansard's speech was that moment all over again, as between breathless thanks, he explained how they'd made their tiny film, never expecting to be where they were now. "Make art," he said to every artist in the audience and every dreamer at home, "make art." Irglova, in an unprecedented return to the stage for her own set of thanks, echoed Hansard's sentiments and said in no uncertain terms, "fair play to those who dream and don't give up." At a night—that Stewart all too appropriately identified as self-indulgent—it was good to see even the seasoned veterans looking up to these young, talented artists and their renewing message of hope.

Oscar turned 80 last night, and its age could be felt. I don't think Hollywood has aged well over this last century—it's sort of a sinking boat, looking for a way home. The show producers filled the night with recaps from past Oscar parties and one could almost feel the light slowly dimming as we came closer to the present. When famed production designer Robert Boyle was presented with his Honorary Oscar, it seemed like the grand age of Hollywood was as frail as he was—its best days far behind. A grand legacy left, but now too spent, too tired to offer anything new.

But then, there was Glen Hansard's old guitar, which he'd brought to play "Falling Slowly". It too, was well worn with age. It had dents and holes and scars across its body, but it played music so beautiful, a song so deep. It filled us all with hope. And dreams. I remember when the movies did that. Maybe someday, they will again...





Falling Slowly

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along