I never watch the Oscars–like, never–because I have kids and because I don’t watch many grownup movies. But I decided after the kids went to bed to turn the tube on to see if any Encanto songs might be performed live (I’m partial to Dos Oruguitas and any and all cumbia). That’s when Chris Rock walked on the stage.
Chris Rock has never impressed me. I’ll be the first to say he is a vile person with lots of ugly stuff pouring out of his mouth on the regular. He has a funny voice and an amazingly dazzling smile for a 57-year-old man (how can he be 57??), but that doesn’t hide the fact that his entire career has been about making fun of people.
That’s what most comedians do–they pick a weak spot and shoot arrows at it to make other snarky people laugh. When you land a great zinger, there are plenty of pats on the back. We all feel good about ourselves. Great, actually. Someone was brave enough and clever enough to say the things we all wished we could say.
And when you’ve been doing it for forty years, it surely comes pretty easy to the tongue. Why filter your thoughts before they come out as words when you get paid so much to do it?
Personally, I’ve always felt like the Chris Rocks of the world need a good sucker punch to the face, because they’re jerks.
Then Will Smith walked up and did just that.
The collective world of couch potatoes and Hollywood elites held their breath.
Did that really just happen?
How should I feel about it?
Team Rock or Team Fresh Prince?
Things that immediately went wrong: Will Smith was not escorted out by security. Chris Rock stood there, stunned, fumbling to get on with his speech. The Academy did not cut to a commercial break. Will Smith sat back down, his eyes burning like lasers. Carry on, folks.
The internet went wild. There was talk about physical assault. There were interjections about mental health and what it means to stand up for someone you love. First the first-grade admonition: use your words! Then the first-grade teacher-scolding: still, it’s never okay to hurt with our hands.
Because Will Smith wasn’t asked to leave (the typical first-grade consequence for hurting someone with your hands), he was primed and ready to accept his Oscar win for best Actor.
This is where it turned unbelievable. The Academy gave Smith a microphone and the spotlight for an unlimited, unscreened, unedited amount of time to speak to millions of people. He was on the stand, tears streaming, pouring his heart out to us, the jury. Will Smith, a beacon of light, proclaimed people do strange things for love. Love, I’m assuming, for his wife–the woman he committed his life to with the side agreement that their marriage was open to extramarital relationships.
He wants his life to be about love, man. And Denzel Washington, bless his heart, had just given him a post-punch pep talk: “At your highest moment, be careful. That’s when the devil comes for you.”
Had the devil never approached Will Smith until now?
I was stunned that Smith had a captive audience. (I also didn’t turn off the TV until the whole spiel was over.) In a few minutes, the excellent actor that is Will Smith put on the best performance of his life, clearing his name, Serena and Venus Williams nodding their heads in sympathy. Was Rock backstage, icing his cheek and filing battery charges?
This is what I wonder:
How can we defend or argue what is right and wrong when we’ve already agreed to the soft rules of culture?
Chris Rock can talk as much smack as he wants because that’s his specialty. Will Smith can absolve his sins by delivering a stellar soliloquy. We will all watch, eyes glued to the screen, and laugh and cry because that is the part the audience plays. Then we will take to Twitter and voice our opinions, because it is our duty.
Is life merely about sparking conversations that lead to mutual understanding if, in fact, there is only one Truth?
Why do the winners accept their award, thanking the people who’ve helped them climb to the top, and then make speeches on the atrocities of war, anti-suicide work and LGBTQ rights? If there are so many victims in the greater world, why are we all dressed to the nines and spending billions of dollars making movies instead of helping? What good is awareness when you’re headed to an after-party to get wasted? Why not slap Chris Rock in the face and bring awareness to his trashy way of insulting everyone and everything that crosses his path? Who is to say that’s wrong?
Who gets to cross the lines and never face consequences?
Perhaps Jada should have been the first to slap Will on a world stage, since he apparently thinks so little of marriage vows to be faithful. Then Chris Rock could’ve slapped Will in her defense. Then they all could’ve slapped the comedian hosts who hurt everyone else’s feelings.
It’s all so petty and blown up.
I wonder, friend: can you walk away from this incident and chalk it up to worldliness–the darkness of our culture–or do you feel compelled to get involved? Do your feathers ruffle easily, or are you already weary of it all?
Honestly, it’s made me tired just typing what I’ve written. I don’t really even care about the Oscars, I was just there to see the orchestra and choirs, and now I’ve got to sort out how I feel about Will Smith. Nothing is more exhausting than trying to decipher media and who-says-what-about-who, thinking you’ve boarded a train to higher thinking, when it’s really just a crazy hamster wheel of nonsense.
Actually it is all forsaken.
Chris Rock? Forsaken.
Will Smith? Forsaken.
Immature grownups who slander and hit each other? Forsaken.
A cumulative culture of Hollywood stars pretending to portray stories in made-up movies that we pay to watch to evoke emotion in ourselves? Forsaken.
The Academy who hires jerks like Chris Rock to spew slander and still awards Will Smith best actor, post-assault? Forsaken.
Let’s not waste time judging who was more right or more wrong, Team Chris Rock or Team Fresh Prince.
Your life is more exciting than the Oscars or a Twitter feed, or Instagram account, do you know that? It’s more interesting and real than anything you watch on TV on a Sunday night or scroll on your phone during lunch break. You have living and breathing humans in your life. You have the potential to grow relationships that blossom and mature into shady, comfortable mainstays. You don’t need a stage or microphone to defend your people or lessen the suffering of others. Will Smith could only hope for the kind of love in a faithful marriage of 35 years. Chris Rock can only pray for the self-control required to not blab every little nasty remark on his mind.
Don’t fall into Forsaken territory.
It’s possible to be at peace with both man and God.
I’m pretty sure it’s an even better feeling than holding an Oscar.
