OSCARS 2025: The Magic Lives On. The Best Ceremony in Years

It was a good year for cinema (as always) and an exceptionally good year for film award ceremonies. The unusually short season was kicked off by the energetic Golden Globes, brilliantly hosted by Nikki Glasner, who received well-deserved praise. The Screen Actors Guild (SAG) Awards gala was also excellent—full of powerful moments (Jane Fonda!), witty and moving speeches, and a successful celebration of the acting community. Notably, for the second year in a row, Netflix broadcasted the event, sparing many cinephiles worldwide the stress of frantically searching for alternative ways to watch the ceremony. This year’s Oscars not only kept pace with the preceding ceremonies but exceeded all expectations. Contrary to some commentators’ claims that the gala was dull as dishwater, I believe we witnessed the best ceremony in years—perhaps the best I have ever watched. When I finally went to bed around five in the morning, I didn’t feel the slightest bit of exhaustion. Instead, my heart was filled with pure enthusiasm, peace of mind, and faith in the power of art to unite, move, and inspire action. Once again, I was reminded why I stay up every year to accompany people thousands of kilometers away—and several rungs higher on the social ladder—as they achieve their dreams.

Before the first award was even handed out, 30 minutes had passed. In fact, the entire gala ran long—probably longer than originally planned. After about three hours, host Conan O’Brien joked that if anyone was still having fun, they were likely suffering from Stockholm syndrome. The joke landed because, despite the ceremony’s long runtime, it never felt boring for a second.

The night started on a high note with a tribute to a city that has endured so much yet has shaped the imagination of millions of dreamers—both those who know Los Angeles firsthand because they arrive there to chase Hollywood dreams and those who, having watched so many movies set there, can wander its streets in their dreams. A montage of iconic films set in LA (from Chinatown to La La Land to Licorice Pizza) was perfectly complemented by Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande’s phenomenal medley of songs from The Wizard of Oz universe (Over the Rainbow, Home, and Defying Gravity). The performance served as a reminder that Hollywood—and by extension, the Oscars—is less of a physical place and more of a collective dream, shared by romantics everywhere.

Making his debut as host, Conan O’Brien didn’t squander his strong first impression. He was relaxed and fresh, landing jokes—including some quite sharp ones (such as a dig at attendee Karla Sofía Gascón). A refreshing touch of self-irony accompanied him throughout the night, most notably in a short musical interlude featuring Dune’s sandworms and Deadpool dancing on stage while Conan cheerfully sang the satirical refrain: “I won’t waste time.” The bit humorously underscored the absurdity of some Oscar traditions. After all, this has always been an event that blends genuine emotions with kitschy jokes, moments of grandeur with embarrassing missteps. Something always goes (more or less) wrong. This year, what irked me was the way they honored the brave firefighters who fought LA’s wildfires. While the tribute itself was absolutely justified, inviting them on stage only to read off teleprompter jokes written for the host felt rather cringeworthy.

Though the 2025 Oscars were a near-perfect product of the Dream Factory, the moments when the show “came down to earth” were just as meaningful. In his opening monologue, Conan highlighted that many of the evening’s nominees and attendees were not just the extravagantly wealthy movie stars but also brilliant artists working behind the scenes. While the Oscars have historically treated technical category nominees as second-class participants, this year Conan’s words were not just empty rhetoric. Just a few years ago, the Best Cinematography award was nearly relegated to a commercial break—this year, cinematographers and costume designers received special tributes from the actors who starred in their films. The presentations of the costume and cinematography awards were not just rushed checkbox moments but truly beautiful displays of industry solidarity and recognition for those who often remain in the shadows.

This warm and generous atmosphere was palpable not only on stage but also in the Dolby Theatre audience. When renowned Broadway costume designer Paul Tazewell (a Tony winner for Hamilton) accepted his Oscar for Wicked, or when young composer Daniel Blumberg took the stage to collect a well-deserved award for his fiercely original score for The Brutalist, the applause was thunderous—louder than for some of the more traditionally prestigious categories.

The 97th Academy Awards were exceptional because they truly celebrated the nominated films and the people behind them—many of whom rarely make front-page news. The Academy’s choices in the major categories reflected an appreciation for independent films, while blockbusters (Dune: Part Two, Wicked) had to settle for a modest haul in the technical fields. The sweeping victory of Anora marks a huge success for indie cinema. If someone had told me two years ago that the director of Tangerine and Red Rocket would soon become a four-time Oscar winner, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Sean Baker became only the second person after Walt Disney to win four Oscars in a single night—and the first to receive all his awards for a single film. While I don’t believe Anora quite deserved such overwhelming recognition (there were at least five Best Picture nominees I valued more), I’m thrilled by this outcome as a lifetime achievement award for Baker. He’s a brilliant filmmaker who has spent years developing a distinct thematic and stylistic vision, acting as a cinematic advocate for America’s marginalized communities. His success serves as an inspiration for independent filmmakers everywhere.

I have similar feelings about the Best Animated Feature category. With all my heart, I was rooting for The Wild Robot, the most moving animated film since Coco, but I predicted Flow‘s victory and see it as a very important gesture of Hollywood’s increasing openness to the rest of the world. Whether this openness is lasting and effective or merely superficial remains, for now, an open question.

We’ve just witnessed a short but turbulent awards season, where frontrunners kept changing and new scandals erupted. The controversy surrounding Emilia Pérez even led to Jacques Audiard’s film losing the Oscar for Best International Feature to I’m Still Here, something that would have been unthinkable just a month ago. However, the ceremony itself was free of scandals or major surprises—my predictions were only off in the short film categories and the winner of Best Editing.

I’m incredibly happy with this year’s acting winners—each award went to the best performer in their respective category. While The Substance is a better film than Anora, I personally preferred Mikey Madison’s performance over Demi Moore’s. Madison is a true phenomenon, an acting dynamo who dominates the screen and propels the entire film forward with her sheer charisma. Adrien Brody was also brilliant in The Brutalist and deservedly won his second career Oscar, reportedly breaking the all-time record for the longest acceptance speech by seven seconds—previously set at five and a half minutes by Greer Garson. Brody’s speech was long (twice, the orchestra tried to cue him offstage), but it was beautiful, full of emotion, reflecting his awareness of the fleeting nature of an acting career and the incredible fortune he has had along the way. His sharp retort to the orchestra—“Turn off the music, I’ve done this before”—should become as iconic an Oscar moment as his infamous kiss with Halle Berry when accepting his award for The Pianist.

The two Oscars I most anticipated—and was most certain about—went to Kieran Culkin and Zoe Saldaña. Both were the heart and driving force of their respective films. Culkin’s career trajectory is especially fascinating—after winning an Emmy for Succession and an Oscar for A Real Pain, he now only needs a Tony to complete the so-called Triple Crown of Acting. He’ll have a chance to win theater’s top honor later this year, as he returns to Broadway in Glengarry Glen Ross in just under a week. If he wins the Tony, he’ll achieve this acting milestone in record time. I wonder if he’ll once again use his victory speech to jokingly ask his wife for another child.

Throughout this awards season, I’ve watched Saldaña’s speeches with a smile on my face, always admiring the energy and passion she exudes. After winning her Oscar, she once again delivered the most spirited speech of the night, emotionally recounting the story of her grandmother, who immigrated from the Dominican Republic to the United States in 1961 and would have been deeply moved to know that her granddaughter had received the film industry’s highest honor for a performance in her native language. I have a feeling that those who dismiss the Oscars as meaningless have never actually watched the ceremony. If they had, they would have seen at least a few people as overwhelmed as Saldaña, for whom an Oscar serves as the symbolic culmination of a lifetime of hard work. For them, this award holds immense significance.

The best presenter of the night was Robert Downey Jr., who handed out the Best Supporting Actor award. Before opening the envelope (which, frankly, he didn’t even need to do—everyone already knew Kieran Culkin’s name was inside), he effortlessly praised each nominee in his signature, charismatic style. His words to Jeremy Strong were particularly touching; the two had once worked together on The Judge, where Strong played a small role. Before calling Strong’s performance in The Apprentice a “masterclass,” Downey reminisced about the 1993 Oscars, when he was nominated for Chaplin and a 14-year-old Jeremy Strong camped outside the Dolby Theatre just to catch a glimpse of his favorite stars. As Strong listened to Downey’s tribute, his face was visibly filled with emotion—it was clear how much being nominated for an Oscar truly meant to him. Jeremy Strong is such an extraordinary actor that sooner or later, he’ll win an Oscar. I’m certain that when he does, it will be an incredibly moving moment. For him, and for me.

And that’s precisely why I love the Oscars—for moments like these.