What it's like inside the Oscars press room
The first rule: you can talk about it, but don't take any photos.
If a tree falls in a forest, does it make a sound? If you spend 10 hours in a room where Oscar winners intermittently enter, but aren’t allowed to take a photo, did it even happen?
I spent most of last week in LA covering the Oscars for The Journal - not words I ever thought I’d write. Ireland had a whopping 14 Oscar nominations this year, so it was good to take a chance on getting press accreditation (thanks to my editor Sinéad for making sure I did just that), and to my surprise I made it through. I’m not sure I’ll have the opportunity to cover the Oscars that way again (not that I’d say no, but it’s a big undertaking for a publication), so I tried to soak up every bit of the unusual and exciting experience.
One small note: LA itself is a curious and endlessly fascinating place, where those with the absolute least in society rub up against those who have the most. In Hollywood, people push trolleys filled with their worldly belongings past tourist shops crammed with fake statuettes, symbols of an industry where people earn millions for pretending to be someone else.
While I really enjoyed venturing around the area and getting to see places like Malibu, Santa Monica and Beverly Hills, it would be remiss of me not to mention the sheer and tragic poverty that was visible in Hollywood in particular. It’s hard to write about these things without sounding flippant or full of fake humility, but this dichotomy was something I was never not aware of while there.
Green carpet
The awards were on 12 March, a Sunday. I arrived the previous Wednesday night and in the days leading up to the event, I filed regular stories about the Oscar race. On the Thursday night, I attended the Oscar Wilde Awards’ ‘green carpet’, a fun night where I did brief interviews with some very interesting people, including JJ Abrams. (Unfortunately, a couple of the most famous celebrities got bored of talking to press halfway through, leaving some Irish journalists sans quotes.) I also spoke to Irish film industry people for interviews, and did radio interviews myself.
The time difference (eight hours behind, dropping to seven on the Sunday due to daylight savings time) meant that I was constantly confused about the time of day. My laptop was always on ‘Irish time’, hours ahead; the radio shows I was speaking to in the morning were evening broadcasts. I existed in my own version of time the entire week I was in LA, which made a surreal experience all the more odd.
Preparations for the champagne carpet.
For weeks I’d been waking up to multiple emails from the Oscars organisers about what to expect on the day. The most shocking revelation was that reporters in the press room have to dress the same as if they were attending the actual awards: ie, in tuxes and gowns (they weren’t prescriptive about gender regarding who wore what, which was nice). In hindsight, this makes absolute sense, mainly as it creates a totally different atmosphere inside the press room compared to if we were all in our civvies. The official reason, though, is that they want the celebrities to feel like they’re at a glamorous awards do, no matter where they go on the night. Even when faced with us normals from the press.
There were so many emails detailing the procedure for picking up credentials that I was convinced I’d forgotten something. I did almost forget to get a PCR test, but squeezed that in the day before I flew, after I re-read an email and copped that I had to do it two days before I picked up my credentials in LA. I daydreamed constantly about forgetting to do something and turning up in the city of angels only to be told I wasn’t allowed cover the event. The absolute fear.
But all was fine. On the Saturday, I arrived at the Loews Hollywood hotel wearing my credentials (which we were not allowed to photograph under pain of death), to go through a press run through. This was where I learned that in the US, a run through is a walk through. I discovered this after I asked where the run through was, and was sent to knock at a nondescript door. It was answered by a young woman with a ponytail, who took one look at me and told me I was in the wrong place. I never discovered what room I nearly got access to.
Glamour
When I told people I was going to cover the Oscars, many thought that the press room would be a glamorous affair, crammed with celebrities. Yes, celebrities turned up, but it wasn’t quite as glamorous as the event itself. The after parties are where the real glamour is. If I went back, that’s where I’d aim myself after the ceremony - not because I’m a big showbiz person, but because I like the idea of getting to see how something like that works. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.
Preparation for the red carpet in the Dolby Theatre.
So, the first non-glam thing is that the press room is a hotel conference room. It’s exactly like every small hotel conference room you’ve ever been in, except at the top of it was a stage and a backdrop emblazoned with tasteful gold Oscars signage. There were also multiple TV screens, some to show the Oscars and some (near the stage) to show the names and categories of the winners so we’d know who was who.
While the constant emails had convinced me that the organisers of the press room would be serious and unforgiving, the team that did the run - sorry - walk through were warm, engaging and funny. They welcomed us to the ‘Oscars family’, and that was when it started to feel real: I was actually in LA to cover the Oscars.
One thing I’ve learned in recent years is that there’s a huge difference between dreaming about what a situation will be like, and the reality of it. Sometimes, you get to do things you’ve dreamed of and it’s not really what you expected. I find that in journalism, sometimes you get so focused on the work to do that you forget you’re in a privileged position.
Standing with the other journalists - who were from 50 countries across the world - I felt a little shiver of excitement when I thought more about what we were there to do. All of those emails and all of the stringent preparation was because the Oscars is a huge bloody deal. Even though it was happening in a hotel conference room, the night was still gonna be goddamn exciting in some way.
The big day
On the Friday, I handed in my dress (which I bought from the Dublin vintage shop Vertigo Vintage), to a local dry cleaner to be pressed. On Saturday, I picked it up and discovered the dry cleaner had actually ironed my hand-made 1960s velvet gown. The thing about velvet is that you never, ever iron it. You know the sort of rage where you can’t get any words out? That was me trying to explain to the dry cleaning woman how I felt when I returned to the shop with the ruined dress. She refunded me the $10 and told me where to go to get it fixed. You can guess what happened next. The dress could not be fixed.
Luckily I’d brought the dress I’d worn to the Irish Book Awards, so on Sunday I tried to forget about Terrible Dry Cleaning Woman and wore that instead of what I’d planned.
I ordered an Uber to the Arclight Cinema, a stunning dome-shaped building which (ironically) has been shut down. (LA is full of cinemas and bowling alleys with gorgeous signage, many of which are sadly no longer in operation.) Among the countless emails, one had said to go to that cinema to catch a shuttle bus to the hotel. While there, I met a Daily Mail journalist and a German NPR journalist, the latter of whom led us around the corner to where the shuttle bus was actually picking people up.
At our destination, our ID was checked and we were led down an alleyway between two buildings. Many of the roads had been closed off around the Dolby Theatre and Loews Hollywood hotel, where the event was taking place. At the top of the alleyway our bags were searched, and we turned onto what would normally be a part of Hollywood Boulevard busy with tourists and hot dog vendors, but which was now home to the ‘champagne’ carpet.
This year, they had covered over the carpet, so we only got brief glimpses inside when we passed the openings to the press sections every six feet or so. The area we walked along was busy with security guards and staff making their way between the many railings, tents, cabins and long, heavy cables. Inside the carpet area we could see red flowing drapes, smiling celebrities and busy reporters. All the glamour was contained away from prying eyes in this covered area, which snaked over to the entrance to the Dolby Theatre. We were within touching distance of the true Oscars glamour.
To get to the hotel, we walked through a mini mall and in via a side entrance. We swiped our credentials, got the all clear, and were in.
The first thing I noticed was… the cheese.
The press room
Outside the press room were platters and platters of cubed cheese, crackers, grapes; bowls of hummus and salad. One table was covered with neat piles of Coke and Diet Coke cans and canned water, with big receptacles for ice alongside small tumbler glasses.
Around an hour after I arrived, lunch was brought out - sandwiches, pasta, chicken skewers, spring rolls, salads. Dessert was cookies, slices of delicious chocolate cake. Inside the actual awards ceremony, millionaire attendees were probably hearing their stomachs rumbling. We were living the high life.
The red/champagne carpet started at 3.30pm, and Academy interviews (by Vanessa Hudgens and Ashley Graham, the former a lot stronger at interviewing, though the red carpet is a tough job despite what people might think) were played on the TVs inside the room. And yep, I saw that Hugh Grant interview in real time…I’ve no major sympathy for celebs who don’t like doing red carpet interviews.
I spent much of my time up to the event itself tweeting about what was happening but also, crucially, organising my questions for the Irish winners. While I was pretty convinced we weren’t set to win a lot of awards, I didn’t know what surprises were in store. So I worked on finalising the question I’d ask each Irish nominee if they won.
Most journalists are assigned a seat in the press room, but some aren’t and can take an unassigned seat near the stage. I was pleasantly surprised to have been assigned a seat, and got chatting to my neighbour, who was from Mexico (he was very excited when Guillermo del Toro won the first award for Pinocchio, and raced up near the stage to ensure he got to ask the director a question).
Each of us was assigned a number to use when we wanted to ask a question of a winner. When the winner came into the room, you were to raise your hand with the number, and some - but not all - of the numbers would be called. It took at least an hour for the first winner to appear in the room, and then we were off. Handily, because the volume on the Oscars feed was cut while winners were speaking in the room, we could get headphones which played the live event.
One of the earliest awards was for Best Short, which was our first Irish win. As soon as the delighted directors Ross White and Tom Berkeley walked through the door, my hand shot up. I’d been told in advance that the moderators knew which publications people worked for, which I presume was why I was second to ask a question. I asked them what must have been a tricky-ish question based around Irish unity, but they did a great job of answering it:
For the rest of the night, I crossed off potential Irish winners from my list (sadface) and waited to see if we’d get another statuette. We did, in the VFX category: Richard Baneham won his second Oscar, along with three others, for his work on Avatar. I attempted to ask him a question, but didn’t get the mic passed to me. That’s part of the crapshoot in particular if you’re a US journalist in the winners’ press room - there’s a lot more competition when it comes to asking questions. At least as an Irish reporter, I could be fairly sure I’d get a chance with at least one Irish winner.
I had really hoped that An Cailín Ciúin would win Best International Feature, and that surely Banshees of Inisherin would get at least one award (for Original Screenplay if not an acting award), but sadly it wasn’t to be. Still - two statuettes wasn’t a bad haul.
When the winners entered, they were all ebullient, but the most excited were the Everything Everywhere All At Once cast. Jamie Lee Curtis was exuberant and warm, eager to talk to reporters and really friendly in her approach. She was clearly over the moon with her win. Michelle Yeoh was wonderfully earnest in her answers to the questions, which continued the theme of the importance of an Asian woman winning the award. Ke Huy Quan literally bounded onto the stage like Tigger to greet the press. He spilled over with energy; it was obvious how much the award meant to him, and he was quite emotional.
Also emotional was Brendan Fraser (the press room gave both him and Michelle Yeoh a really loud applause), who was very gentle in his manner and seemed shocked even though he was long assumed to win. And I particularly enjoyed the Swiss-German director of All Quiet On the Western Front, Edward Berger, saying he was going to “party heavily” after the awards.
After the ceremony ended, we still had to wait for some winners to arrive. After that, reporters were able to stay in the press room for another half hour. Some dashed out the door quickly, while others hung around to file radio reports and stories. (Some of the reporters were actually filing live radio reports at their desks throughout the awards, which was impressive).
By this time, the can of Coke I’d drunk earlier for energy was dissipating from my bloodstream, and I was feeling a little tired but with a slick of adrenaline running through me.
I filed my report on the night, and then made my way in the evening dark to find the shuttle bus back to the Arclight.
On the way through the backstage warren, I stopped to take photos of the behind-the-scenes area: the now empty champagne carpet; the plastic bottles and bits of rubbish that had been discarded and settled against grates and barriers. At the street entrance, manned by security, groups of fans gathered (including one man saying some pretty disturbing things about Selena Gomez). Golf carts drove guests in glittering gowns past me to an afterparty somewhere.
It was weird to be in this place and having witnessed, from behind the curtain, what the Oscars was like without being part of the glamour. In some ways, it was like any other big event, and I felt envious of those who got to have the cameras on them for the night - what must it have felt like to be the people who actually brought the glitz?
I wondered if, while sitting in the Dolby Theatre, people got hungry and bored, and planned what they’d eat and drink when it was all over. I thought about how it must have felt for first-time nominees like Paul Mescal, Ross White and Tom Berkeley, and all the lovely Cailín Ciúin cast and crew, to be there at this hallowed celebrity event and actually be part of the action.
As a journalist, you’re not there to be the centre of attention - you’re there to report. But the Oscars projects such a tantalising vision of glamour and celebrity, I wanted to get a little taste of what it all involved. I vowed that if I returned, I’d do the red carpet for an after party, and soak up some of the celebrity glitter that way.
But that night, I got the shuttle bus and then an Uber back to my hotel. I took off my heels and hoped my blisters wouldn’t be too bad in the morning, then went to bed and checked my article for the inevitable typos. Throughout the night, I did a series of interviews for Irish radio stations, with my final one at 4.30am.
Then I slept the sleep of someone who felt lucky, a bit envious, and a little delirious over it all.
You can read all of my reporting on the Oscars here.
My debut non-fiction book Social Capital is published by HarperCollins Ireland on 27 April. In it, I examine what it’s like to live life online in Ireland today, as we grapple with online harms like racism and hate, but try to balance it with the freedom the internet gives us… and all in a country where the major social media companies have set up their European and EMEA HQs.
If you’re interested in reading Social Capital, I’d love you to pre-order it using one of the links below. Thank you so much to all those who have ordered copies already!
