When Conan O’Brien was doing press before the 98th Academy Awards, he would sometimes talk about his ideal scenario for the show. “I think you want something to go wrong occasionally,” he told The Hollywood Reporter. “I like that feeling. Humans are really good at noticing when something’s spontaneous. When something goes a little off, it’s great. Now, there’s ‘off’ and then there’s ‘really off.’ You don’t want ‘really off.’ You want ‘slightly off.’ You want ‘comically off.’”
By that measurement, O’Brien’s second stint as Oscar host might have disappointed him. To be sure, there was nothing “really off” about the evening. But the “comically off” was also in short supply—and with it, the sort of chaotic, silly energy that supercharges his comedy. Some Oscar telecasts are boring, some are sanctimonious. Last year’s show was a rarity, with O’Brien comfortably taking the reins from Jimmy Kimmel, serving up a vibrant, consistently funny show that fed off its host’s goofy exuberance. This time around, O’Brien had to work harder to steer this predictably ungainly ship of a ceremony. Thankfully, he had the benefit of a strong set of nominees and some very satisfying wins. Along the way, he proved to be a perfect complement to the film industry itself. Whether you’re an Oscar host or the movie business, things don’t always run smoothly, but you go out there and do your best.
Last year, O’Brien took the stage of the Dolby Theatre with a heavy heart. His beloved parents had died three days apart in December 2024, mere months before the broadcast. Not long after his folks’ passing, the Southern California wildfires destroyed approximately 18,000 homes, including O’Brien’s. The Academy Awards aired amidst those tragedies—not to mention Trump’s return to office and the film industry’s continued fears about its shrinking cultural foothold—and O’Brien’s polished professionalism and silly self-deprecation were a balm. A year later, sadly, the world is even darker, and for O’Brien no doubt there was once again a personal sorrow on his mind. In mid-December 2025, Rob Reiner and his wife Michele Singer Reiner were killed after attending O’Brien’s annual holiday party, where they had been joined by their son Nick, who has been charged with their murder. There were good reasons for Hollywood not to be in a celebratory mood.
And yet, the ABC broadcast couldn’t have started more strongly, O’Brien seamlessly inserting himself into several of the major nominees, the clever segment tied to the ingenious sequence near the end of “Weapons” when local children chase after Amy Madigan’s evil Aunt Gladys. (O’Brien in the makeup and fright wig was an uproarious sight.) That opener, segueing into the host confidently sauntering on stage, created hope that this show would be an all-timer.
But despite a gorgeous set and some solid monologue jokes, O’Brien didn’t appear as fully in command as he had last year. Some of his bits killed. (Praising “Sinners” auteur Ryan Coogler for declining to become an Academy member because he didn’t feel comfortable judging others, O’Brien quickly told the crowd, “But the rest of you pricks seem to love it!”) But between delivering weak quips about “Hamnet” and Timothée Chalamet’s controversial opera/ballet comments, he couldn’t entirely escape the nagging feeling that this awards season has been painfully long—so long, in fact, that O’Brien and his writing staff struggled to find fresh riffs on movies that have been anatomized for months. (That said, the host’s punchline regarding there being no British acting nominees was especially cutting from someone who tends to avoid political humor.)
Even when O’Brien’s material wasn’t soaring, he handled the evening with aplomb, never losing his rhythm. It was a gift sorely lacking in so many of the evening’s presenters, who appeared to have never rehearsed their script let alone met their co-presenter. (After seeing how awkward they were together, I am not convinced Bill Pullman and his son Lewis have ever spoken.) It didn’t help that so many of the pairings were clearly devised by Disney, which owns ABC, to promote its upcoming films. If you weren’t already utterly unenthused about another Avengers film, Robert Downey Jr. and Chris Evans’ tortured banter probably snuffed out any lingering interest. Pedro Pascal and Sigourney Weaver were forced to do some labored shtick with a Grogu puppet—“The Mandalorian and Grogu,” only in theaters May 22!—while Anne Hathaway and Anna Wintour radiated anti-chemistry as viewers vaguely remembered that there’s going to be a “Devil Wears Prada” sequel.
Too often, the default pose of the presenters was to stare helplessly into the camera, their unfunny back-and-forth dying in the room. Even the much-hyped reunion of the “Bridesmaids” actresses fizzled. When Javier Bardem and Priyanka Chopra Jonas presented Best International Film, with Bardem starting his remarks by stating clearly, “No to war. And free Palestine,” it wasn’t just a bracing political rallying cry but also a blessed relief from the lame comedy routines.
The Oscars encourage winners not just to spout off a laundry list of names in their acceptance speeches. As usual last night, the winners largely ignored that advice, although Madigan, the evening’s first Oscar recipient, reasonably pointed out that those names are attached to crucial people who got them where they are. It’s a fair point, but the problem is that, frequently, the recitation of names doesn’t include an explanation of why those individuals are so meaningful.
When winners took the time to be more personal, however, the impact was felt. Paul Thomas Anderson has spent much of awards season mourning his longtime friend and collaborator Adam Somner, a producer on “One Battle After Another” who died in November 2024. When Anderson collected the prize for Best Director, he touchingly invoked Somner. Earlier, when he won Best Adapted Screenplay, he talked about his children. “I wrote this movie for my kids to say sorry for the housekeeping mess that we left in this world we’re handing off to them,” he said, “but also with the encouragement that they will be the generation that hopefully brings us some common sense and decency.” Madigan gushed about her longtime husband Ed Harris. Jessie Buckley thanked her husband Freddie, declaring, “You’re the most incredible dad. You’re my best friend, and I want to have 20,000 more babies with you!” Agents, producers and managers are certainly crucial elements to a successful film career, but there’s nothing quite like family and friends who love you.
More than rooting for the “right” movies and performances to win at the Academy Awards, I want the people who collect their trophy to meet the moment—maybe not necessarily with a political speech, but with heartfelt comments that acknowledge the significance of the setting. In fact, a great speech can make me happy for the winner even if I would have chosen someone else for the prize. Take Joachim Trier’s victory for Best International Film with “Sentimental Value,” which was elevated by the filmmaker’s graceful reference to author James Baldwin, whom he paraphrased while telling the crowd, “All adults are responsible for all children. Let’s not vote for politicians who don’t take this seriously into account.”
But it was telling that, again and again, it was the winners from the night’s two most-nominated films, “One Battle After Another” and “Sinners,” that electrified the Dolby Theatre. Autumn Durald Arkapaw took home Best Cinematography for “Sinners”—the first women ever to do so—and impassionately praised the female cinematographers who inspired her and the women in the industry who lifted her up. You sensed that she sensed that history was being made, and her modesty, genuineness and eloquence were deeply moving. That reflection and humility were similarly evident in the acceptance speeches from Anderson, Coogler (who won best Original Screenplay) and Michael B. Jordan, whose Best Actor win felt like the ceremony’s high-energy moment. These men had won plenty of prizes during awards season, but each in their own way stood tall while simultaneously being awed by the magnitude of what was happening.
There’s always a bit of a natural dip in the middle of the Oscars telecast. The show usually starts with a bigger prize (Best Supporting Actor or Best Supporting Actress) to get everybody warmed up before moving onto technical categories, which tend to feature less dynamic speakers. (Part of this may have to do with my own mixed feelings about “Frankenstein” and “F1,” but the unremarkable speeches from those films’ winners were especially snoozy.) But as the evening wound to a close and the major awards were given out, you sensed the electricity build as the anticipated “One Battle After Another” versus “Sinners” battle played out.
Those two films weren’t just the most awarded—each movie managed to pull off one of the evening’s rare upset victories. “One Battle After Another” took home Best Casting—the first time that prize has even been given out—while “Sinners” snagged Best Cinematography. (Many prognosticators had those two wins reversed.) But the connection between the two films runs far deeper. As has been widely documented, both movies came from Warner Bros., where co-heads Michael De Luca and Pamela Abdy have bet big on risky studio fare. And in “One Battle After Another” and “Sinners,” they put their faith in auteurist cinema that plays with genre conventions to say something substantial about American society. Not unlike other recent Best Picture winners “Oppenheimer” and “Anora,” Anderson’s and Coogler’s films suggest the immense rewards of nurturing a filmmaker’s personal vision. With Warner Bros. facing a disconcerting future in which Paramount may swallow the fabled studio, De Luca and Abdy were thanked plenty, and deservedly so: Whatever becomes of Warner Bros., their fostering of great directors will not be soon forgotten.
Still, the overall vibe of last night’s Oscars was businesslike, with a lot of familiar topics revisited in perfunctory ways, often as obligatory punchlines. O’Brien dutifully joked about Hollywood’s struggle to connect with younger viewers, although his bit about the Academy Awards soon moving to YouTube was nicely executed. He mocked Netflix quite nicely twice, first setting his sights on company head Ted Sarandos and then, later, riffing on the studio’s insistence that its programs mindlessly repeat plot points so that distracted viewers don’t get lost. (Sterling K. Brown proved to be a superb Dooley Wilson in O’Brien’s hilariously bastardized version of “Casablanca.”) And, of course, there were the endless paeans from O’Brien, the presenters and the winners, all of whom blandly rhapsodized about The Power Of Movies to bring us together.
While well-meaning, those familiar refrains tended to evaporate instantly. A far more forceful argument were the evening’s top two winners, which slice such banal sentiments into ribbons. “One Battle After Another” is a warped portrait of our current America that inspired endless debate because Anderson refused to make his expansive film too tidy. Similarly, “Sinners” draws from the musical and the horror film to offer a different twisted image of the country, one in which Black lives and culture are threatened by vampiric forces. Challenging and interrogative while also being broadly entertaining, “One Battle After Another” and “Sinners” are so distinctive—not to mention straight-up peculiar at times—that they transcend anodyne bromides about film’s ability to speak to the human condition. (Also: I’m begging the Oscars to stop championing “storytellers,” which is barely a notch above “creatives” in icky-cringy industry lingo.)
Even when last night’s show hit predictable lulls, it still managed to deliver some nice interludes. “Mr. Nobody Against Putin” director David Borenstein, who won Best Documentary, drew stark similarities between Russia’s tyrannical government and our own. The tie for Best Live-Action Short was handled elegantly by both presenter Kumail Nanjiani and the two winners. And the “In Memoriam” segment, frequently criticized for its tackiness or the people it omits, was lovely. Partly, that was because it was longer than usual, with Billy Crystal speaking about Rob Reiner and his wife, and then Rachel McAdams getting choked up paying tribute to Diane Keaton, with Barbra Streisand closing the sequence by remembering her “The Way We Were” costar Robert Redford. This Oscars didn’t take a lot of big swings, but you couldn’t say the show lacked ambition. After all, it would have been impossible to recreate the stunning “I Lied to You” sequence from “Sinners” on stage, but damn if the producers didn’t give it their all.
Do I wish there had been more pointed comments about Trump and the war in Iran? Yes, but at the same time, those moments felt judicious, woven into the fabric along with odes to, among other things, motherhood, queer cinema, K-pop, Black culture, and the next generation. At their core, the Academy Awards are really about uplifting and reassuring the masses: that movies can change the world, that movies still matter, that artistic dreams can come true. It can make you roll your eyes sometimes. But even Paul Thomas Anderson, who is hardly known for touchy-feely films, allowed himself a little optimism with his Oscar-winning film. The anxiety-laden “One Battle After Another” ends on a hopeful note—maybe not for this terrible current world, but the one just beyond the road ahead. There are endless treacherous hills on that stretch of highway. Who knows what will become of the Oscars, or even the film industry. Me, I’m not big on The Power Of Movies. I’d rather put my faith in individuals like Anderson and Coogler. Let them take the wheel.
