The Very Bearable Lightness
Of Being...an Oscar Nominee

(With Apologies to Milan Kundera)

by David Whittaker
(Nominee for Sound Effects Editing on 'Daylight')

"Oscar Nominee." That tag had never been attached to my name before. How can I describe the experience? It was exhilarating, time consuming, anxiety inducing and memorable in ways I could not have predicted.

Early One Morning

For those not familiar with the Academy's nominating process for the Sound Effects Editing award, see Mark Mangini's article "The Bake-Off" from the March/April '97 Newsletter. I had participated in the Bake-off twice before, neither time expecting to be nominated. (I was not.) This time, Richard Anderson and I knew that we had a good chance at a nomination for co-supervising 'Daylight.' Consequently, during the week between the Bake-off and the announcement of nominees, I felt rather anxious despite efforts to think about anything other than the possibility of an Oscar.

Nominees Dave Whittaker and Richard Anderson with visions of Oscars dancing in their heads.

On February 11th, at 5:30 a.m., Steve Lee, our sound librarian, phoned the Academy to find out the sound effects editing nominees, because the non-glamorous categories are not announced at the live press conference.

Soon after, my phone rang and Steve informed my groggy brain that Richard and I would be going to the Awards as nominees. I did not fully comprehend Steve's message until I mumbled the news to my wife, Peggy. Her shriek brought me to full consciousness and the realization that the next few weeks would be out of the ordinary.

By the time I rolled in to work, the whole shop had the news and the phone was ringing. Several prior winners in our category called with congratulations. They also offered a few tips for psychic survival over the next six weeks and suggested that the Nominees Luncheon would probably be the best part of the whole experience.

Meanwhile, other editor colleagues were calling, our dubbing mixers were calling, our director was calling and the studio was calling to get addresses for the Oscar night limo. I visualized how comical the car would look on a Monday afternoon in March in my humble driveway. Peggy sent a dozen red roses. The studio head sent two floral baskets filled with exotic blooms and bottles of premium French champagne. Our bookkeeper presented us with even more champagne. I was feeling very heady and wondering whether I might somehow live like this on a more regular basis. Enter reality - my reel was not cutting itself. Keeping up with the dubbing stage just got harder!

Later

During the next few days, the response from relatives and non-pro friends spanned an interesting range. Peggy's cousins in St. Louis, all movie nuts, went crazy as did her brothers and their families in Orange County. At the other end of the range was my brother, a carpenter and farmer in rural Washington State who sees only a few movies each year. He responded with an eloquently simple, "Cool." Soon we were onto other topics such as the weather, the shortage of carpentry jobs, and the cost of gooseberry plants. My folks, escapees to Washington from California, were certain that the sound effects editing award would not presented at the broadcast ceremony. (Again, see "The Bake-off" from the March/April '97 Newsletter.) It would take until mid-March to convince them that they might actually see me on their TV.

My brother may choose to lead a simpler existence, removed from the frippery of Hollywood, but not me. Since designer creations were not showing up on our doorstep as they do for the stars, Peggy and I decided to head for the Mecca of shopping excess, Beverly Hills. I had always wanted a good Italian suit and now had an excuse to buy one (for the Luncheon). When I stepped in the elegant men's salon at Saks I spied Mick Jackson, the director of 'Volcano'. He appeared perfectly at home there, embodying one difference between the big shots and me - without my Oscar nomination, I might have found the ambiance at Saks rather daunting. When my salesman heard that I was a first time Oscar nominee, he treated me like the pauper made a prince.

Luncheon Is Served

As promised, the Nominees Luncheon on March 11th at the Beverly Hilton proved the best part of the Oscar dream state. I stepped out of my Honda to behold photographers, press, fans (not mine) and red carpets. Inside the hotel, the luncheon was a relatively intimate group composed of Academy Governors, the producers of the Oscar broadcast, a very few members of the press, and about ninety of the nominees and their dates. It was a wonderful chance to meet directors and actors I had long admired in a collegial rather than competitive setting.

The Academy determined the table assignments for lunch and sprinkled celebrities around the room. At our table was Brenda Blethyn, nominated for Best Actress in 'Secrets & Lies.' Brenda neither looked nor sounded like her character, Cynthia, whose life (and personal appearance) is a wreck. Brenda was so very different from Cynthia that, when she introduced herself, I unthinkingly expressed disbelief. This was a bit embarrassing, but got a good laugh from the others around the table. All of us were first-time nominees and a bit dazed to be sitting where we were.

Before we ate, we nominees trooped up a set of risers, like a college glee club, for the "Class Picture." Unlike a college glee club, however, we were neither dressed alike nor arranged by height. The unexpected informality of the session contributed to my sense of momentary kinship with a group of people who had been singled out for a modern-day anointing.

Many of the nominees are famous and perhaps accustomed to feeling so special, but sound editors are not.

Is This What Those Antacid
Commercials Are All About?

Once the Nominees Luncheon was over, the next step in my Oscar adventure was the serious worrying. I worried about winning - how could I face so many people? I worried about not winning - would I ever get another chance? I thought about my competitors, especially Bruce Stambler who was nominated for 'The Ghost and the Darkness.' This was his fifth consecutive nomination with no previous win.

On the Saturday before the Oscars, two diversions helped pass the time between worrying and practicing acceptance remarks. The first was an afternoon tea given by the British Academy of Film and Television Arts for their nominees and the Oscar nominees. The room at the Shutters Hotel was thick with famous faces and the press. Soon after bumping into Lynn Redgrave at one of the tea urns, we were caught in the background as 'Entertainment Tonight' filmed Kristen Scott Thomas and her two beautiful children. Later, we met up with Brenda Blethyn and she and Peggy matter-of-factly compared notes on the difficulty of finding small-size evening shoes. With that, I could not mistake the surreal Cinderella aspect of this experience.

From Shutters, we were off to the Century Plaza for the MPSE's annual Golden Reel Awards. I tried to listen attentively during the dozen or so categories preceding mine, but did not do very well. At last, I heard the listing of nominated features. Then, as in February, a shriek from my wife brought me to consciousness. 'Daylight' had won the final Golden Reel of the evening. For the first time, I stood on stage with a sound effects team selected by our peers for an honor I had always coveted. Accepting the award gave Richard and me an opportunity to practice speaking in front of a large group of people whose opinions matter very much to us. My Oscar jitters suddenly disappeared and the prospect of Monday night seemed almost anticlimactic. That night, I slept better than I had in weeks.

How Did We Get Here?

Just as in a movie, the limousine pulled up to our house as a junior-high boy on a bicycle stopped and stared. The driver obligingly took photos of our assembled group in our evening clothes in the bright daylight. Then, we were off down the freeway. Our feet next touched land at the red carpet leading into the Shrine. Once inside, we immediately began searching for the hors d'oeuvres we had been anticipating. (In the excitement of getting ready, we had missed lunch.) Unfortunately, except for a few raw vegetables, food did not materialize. I tried for a glass of wine, but the white was already gone and the server spilled some red onto the man in front of me. So, I scratched that notion and we went to find our seats.

Soon it was time for the show to begin. At the downbeat of the orchestra, I turned to Peggy and asked, "How did we get here?"

As the awards progressed, some of our favorites in the various categories got the Oscar and some did not, as usual. Then, Beavis and Butt-head came on stage (or, more precisely, on the monitors) to announce our very favorite category. After enduring four years of the honor of just being nominated, Bruce Stambler won the award for Best Achievement in Sound Effects Editing. Of course, I was disappointed that Richard and I were not on stage, but I had not necessarily expected to win and could hardly begrudge someone who had waited so long.

After the show, we found Bruce and Nan, his wife, just behind Governor Wilson, working their way up the aisle. Richard joked to them about mugging Bruce later in the parking lot for his statuette, and then we congratulated them both. They seemed overjoyed and rather relieved. We strolled over to the Governors Ball where wonderful food appeared instantly and we dove in. Even though Richard and I were empty handed, our table was festive as Rick Baker and David Leroy Anderson celebrated their Oscar for Achievement in Makeup. Also at the table was Luke Sader, of CNN, who said he had voted for 'Daylight' in his office pool. Too bad he is not a member of the Academy.

Despite my personal disappointment at not taking home an Oscar, the overall experience was surprisingly satisfying due to the goodwill of colleagues, friends, relatives and the Academy. They left me feeling special in a way that I can never lose.