I said it last night on Twitter, but there’s very little that’s crueler than being up for an award with four other people if one of the people—the one who is CERTAIN not to win anything—shares three syllables of a name with you.
“And the Oscar goes to…Mark Ru-“
(Time stops. The thing you convinced yourself could not be might be! You swallow. Pulse quickens.)
“…Uyland!”
I’m just saying, I don’t think Mark Ruffalo thought he was going to win. I think he was pulling a McAdams this awards season —using his platform to continue to support victims of abuse that was covered up by the church, and to increase his profile overall. He even went to a protest for victims of sexual abuse by priests on Oscar day, before the show. He expected to smile and clap when they said “And the Academy Award goes to ….Sylvester Stallone”. Having someone SAY YOUR FIRST NAME and last initial is an extra heart attack.
But I’m not even that sad about it because it gave Spotlight a little more time in the sun. This movie, if you haven’t watched it, is the movie that stayed with me all year. This is a movie that matters. It’s the opposite of exploitive or sensationalistic or whatever you might think it is. It’s quiet, thoughtful, truthful. It’s a movie about writers, and about work. It won best screenplay and best picture, and was a movie about the way writers do what they can do to change things they disagree with. As one of the winners said in their acceptance speech, you can’t rush through junior high or high school, but you can make stuff. Making stuff can help you speak the truth.
I love Mark Ruffalo in thoughtful roles like this, and I’d love to see more, even though logically I know that doing the Hulk movies allows him to do this. However, I am honour bound, because I promised Lainey, to say that I am a little grossed out by yesterday morning’s Instagram whispering.
Let’s let it go and consider it an anomaly, and let him get back to earnest if scallywag-ish dudes just trying to be the best they can be.
