SoundTracking #4

”And the Oscar goes to . . .”

Rob Lowe is a very good looking man who is aging so gracefully that you can’t even dislike him for it. He’s also an excellent comic actor who for some reason keeps appearing in dramas. What he is not is a singer or dancer. Yet, in a decision that can never be truly understood, he was called upon to do both as the blind date of Snow White in the opening number at the Academy Awards on March 29, 1989. The results were glorious.

I am a regular Oscar ceremony watcher (though these days I rarely make it to the end unless I’m invested in a particular film’s prospects, like last year), but I missed the 1989 show, so I had not watched this video until just this week. I certainly knew the legend of the botched opening. But I assumed that Disney, who were so upset by the unapproved use of their intellectual property that they (1) sued the Academy and (2) had Snow White portrayer Eileen Bowman agree not to speak about the show for 13 years, made sure that this clip was buried. I wouldn’t be surprised to see it taken down at some point, so, please, take the 11 minutes right now and watch the video. It is so undeniably awful that you can’t help but feel embarrassed for (almost) everyone involved, yet you are also compelled to keep watching, to see what fresh horror is coming up. It’s supposed to be a tribute to old Hollywood, and I guess the amount and variety of cheese on display is consistent with that. But what is the cheesiest part? The dancing stars? The dancing tables? Snow White’s voice? The rewritten lyrics to familiar songs? Rob Lowe shimmying? The gigantic hat – I guess it’s a hat – that Snow wears towards the end? The mere presence of Merv Griffin? The only one for my money who comes out of this a winner is Cyd Charisse: just past her 67th birthday and more than 20 years since her last major film role, she turns up at 3:37 and shows that she still has moves, and looked awfully good in the process.

Now, it’s Oscar time again, and it is certain that nothing so gloriously camp will turn up in tonight’s ceremony. Unless, of course, it’s on purpose. Which brings us to “I’m Just Ken”.

There are five tunes up for best original song this year, but three of those have no chance of winning, despite contributing honourably to a strong nominee slate. “It Never Went Away” (from “American Symphony”) has beautiful piano, and is a lovely and moving elegy to enduring love. “The Fire Inside” (from “Flamin’ Hot”) is yet another Diane Warren anthem, but with a faux Latin beat, and I can’t deny that it had me moving my head and shoulders along with the music in a way that my wife would instantly recognize and, hopefully, be embarrassed by. And, last but not least of the also-rans, we come to “Wahzhazhe (A Song for My People)” (from “Killers of the Flower Moon”), which I can’t even begin to pretend to understand but which also dug under my skin and made my heart race.

But this is “Barbie”’s year, and it is probably 99% certain that Billie Eilish and her brother will be walking off the stage tonight with their second little gold man. And it’s hard to deny that it would be a deserving victor. “What Was I Made For?” is a delicate lament, light and airy sounding but with lyrics that display an existential questioning of purpose that is also grounded in the film’s through line. An Oscar winning song should ideally be connected to the movie itself, and not just a pretty trifle played over the closing credits. Eilish’s song touches on the emotional centre of the film, and of Barbie’s journey.

And yet, nothing is certain until someone says “And the Oscar goes to”, and in that tiny 1% of space that remains, I will be rooting for Mark Ronson and Andrew Wyatt – two of the folks behind “Shallow” – to win their second Oscars with “I’m Just Ken”.

My love for this song is a little irrational, but I’m okay with that. It, too, is connected to the story, as Ken grapples with his insecurities and confusion over why Barbie doesn’t appreciate his awesomeness. That it is accompanied by a massive production number, in which dozens and dozens of Kens (but no Allans) battle each other with beach toys and, I don’t know, charisma, I guess, organically ties in to the problems with the patriarchy and toxic masculinity that the film addresses. I prefer to watch the movie clip so I can appreciate its full glory, with Ryan Gosling in beach god mode and fellow Canuck Simu Liu as his preening nemesis, but the song on its own is great, switching from power ballad to ‘80s dance track to grungy techno then back to power ballad. And the lyrics: “a life of blonde fragility”, “the man behind the tan”, “Am I not hot when I’m in my feelings?” and, my personal favourite, “I’m great at doing stuff”. Plus, this song gave the world Kenergy. Give these geniuses another Oscar, damn it!

Okay, that’s absolutely not going to happen. For one thing, Hollywood, despite being a place that has churned out great comedic entertainments for over a century, has never had a sense of humour about itself, and rarely has awarded those comedies its highest honour. So the emotional turmoil of “What Was I Made For?” is more on brand for the Oscars than the absurdist humour of “I’m Just Ken”. Also, everything Eilish touches turns to award-season gold – she has already won the Grammy for Song of the Year for her track, an award for which “I’m Just Ken” was egregiously not even nominated. But what would it say about Hollywood if Barbie’s moment of triumph was stolen away by Ken? It would fuel thinkpieces for days on every feminist (and anti-feminist) Substack, every website and magazine, every culturally oriented TikTok, Instagram, Reddit, X, blog, vlog and whatever the heck else is out there. If nothing else, it would take our minds off Trump and the American apocalypse in the making for just a few more days.

Do it, Academy. We demand that you step up in this moment of need. Give “I’m Just Ken” the Oscar. The world is counting on you.