The Oscars Still Matter (And the Lesson Is Simple: Keep Conan)
- ALT there
- Mar 16
- 3 min read
Every year someone declares the Oscars dead.
Usually around the same time the ceremony still manages to dominate film conversation for an entire weekend.
The truth, as usual, sits somewhere in the middle. The Oscars no longer carry the monolithic cultural power they once did — the era when a Best Picture winner instantly became the defining film of the year is long gone. Streaming, fractured audiences, and an overwhelming volume of entertainment have diluted that influence.
But nights like this year’s ceremony quietly prove something important.
The Oscars still matter.
Not because they dictate taste, but because they create a rare moment where the film industry collectively pauses to celebrate the craft behind the films that shaped the year. Actors, directors, writers, cinematographers and designers all gathered in one place to recognise the work. In an era where films are increasingly treated like disposable content, that reminder still has value.
And when the ceremony gets the basics right, the night works surprisingly well.
This year, the most obvious example of that was Conan O’Brien.
Quite simply, the Oscars should keep him forever.
O’Brien has something the ceremony has struggled to find in recent years: a host who understands how to balance reverence for the films with the ability to gently puncture the room’s self-importance. His humour sits in the perfect space between affectionate and mischievous. He knows the films, understands the audience, and — crucially — doesn’t try to turn the show into something it isn’t.
The Oscars don’t need reinvention every year.
They need someone who can steer the evening.
Conan does that effortlessly.
But the ceremony itself still has a few lessons to learn.
For one, the room could relax.
Awards shows always carry a certain formality, but the Oscars occasionally tip into something resembling polite stiffness. There were moments this year where the audience still seemed to pause before laughing, as if checking whether a joke was officially approved.
That loosened up as the night went on, and the difference was noticeable. When the room relaxes, the ceremony becomes far more enjoyable to watch.
The other lesson is equally simple: let the awards breathe.
The Oscars still have a frustrating habit of playing winners off mid-speech — often the very people whose moment it should be. When someone has spent decades building a career that leads to that stage, they can probably have an extra fifteen seconds.
No one watching at home will complain.
Despite those quirks, the broader takeaway from this year’s ceremony was encouraging. The show felt respectful of the films, the winners made sense, and the host provided just enough irreverence to keep things moving.
It didn’t try to reinvent the Oscars.
And that may be the real lesson.
Sometimes the Academy doesn’t need to fix the ceremony.
It simply needs to trust what it already is: a slightly grand, occasionally awkward, but still meaningful celebration of cinema.
As long as that remains true, the Oscars will continue to matter.
Especially if Conan O’Brien is standing on stage reminding everyone not to take it too seriously.
Images: Getty Images / AMPAS press photography used for editorial commentary.
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