Was it the best performance of the five? Probably not, right? I have personal attachment to Emmanuelle Riva because, well, Amour is my personal nightmare. My parents are Amour. Many of you thought it was Chastain’s Maya in Zero Dark Thirty. Still others identified with Naomi’s courageous mother in The Impossible. As I’ve written before, Jennifer Lawrence is 22. Tiffany in Silver Linings Playbook will not be the best work of her career. Right now it’s not the best work of her career. That would be Winter’s Bone.


This is not a competition based solely on merit, we know. This is a popularity contest. And right now, there is no one more popular than Jennifer Lawrence. I saw it myself at the Weinstein Grey Goose party at Soho House on Saturday night, a fascinating study in celebrity hierarchy.

While Lawrence, and the mega mega VIPs like Leonardo DiCaprio and Bradley Cooper etc were locked in the garden area, TV stars like Emmy Rossum and Dermot Mulroney and Chace Crawford, etc etc etc, were lingering just outside the door, where a staff person with a clipboard was barring them access. And they had to wait patiently for Harvey Weinstein to gift them with it. I was at a long table along the edge of the garden a few feet from Lawrence’s couch area. She was hanging out with Lisa Bonet and Zoe Kravitz (RIGHT?!?) and a couple of other girlfriends. Cooper and Leo were in the corner talking to Salma Hayek’s rich husband. At some point, Leo signaled Coop and they wrapped it up and made their way over to Lawrence. And stayed.

There were tall, young, blonde generic models floating around, waiting to be noticed, and all Leo wanted to do was talk to Jennifer Lawrence. He’d cup his hand by her ear and tell her something and sometimes she’d laugh and sometimes she’d make him say something else, not obsequious, not hair-flippy or eye-batty, and occasionally there’f be someone along to interrupt him or her, but he’d always turn back to her, and he looked like he was having a lot of fun, that she was a lot of fun to be around. Now and again, Coop would come by to check on them, and in those moments, like a protective older brother, while several feet away, Lukas Haas lurked on his own, phone in hand texting or checking messages, like he was waiting to be summoned, only there so that Leo wouldn’t have to come and go alone.

I’m not sure if I was watching the start of something go down. But I’ve seen Leo in these situations before and he doesn’t usually leave his own area to join someone else’s. It’s more commonly the other way around. And when she left before him, there was a lot of iPhone-ing and picture showing and he reached for her for a hug first.

Should we be talking to the Gossip Genie… ?

Duana and I have been discussing it all day. Right now, we are in love. Jennifer Lawrence is irresistible, the proverbial “real girl”. She charmingly trips on her dress and manages to survive the mortification without tears and self-consciousness. She makes it through an ENTIRE award season without wearing Marchesa. She sasses Harvey Weinstein in front of millions of people about his shady reputation and gets away with NOT thanking him. She heads backstage (in quick time, by the way, unlike Anne Hathaway who showed up hours after winning hers) and charms even the most cynical journalists, including one who asked her if she’s worried it’s too much too soon and that she’s peaked too early.

Sheepishly, “Um…now I am.”

And then she had the whole room.

Even after she gave us the finger. Easy. I was there. It didn’t go down like that. Lawrence’s demeanor last night was very informal, as she often is. So she was loose and very collegial and the best way to describe it is to say that it was like a reaction to a tease. And she was goofing, hamming, big laughs, no hostility. Check the video below. You can see why Duana called her a “motor mouth”. I mean if this is contrived, she really deserves that Oscar.

They come around every few years, the “real girls”. They are adored. They have everything. They are “natural”. It’s about as natural as it gets here, below, when she meets Jack Nicholson for the first time, a pretty precocious 22 year old:

But, God, in this f-cking town, how long can it last? It rarely does. What comes first then? The change…or the backlash that precipitates the change… ?