Calendar Goes To the OSCARS : A Crystal-Clear Vision of a Star-Studded Night

B illy Crystal realizes that after last year’s much-criticized Allan Carr production, Monday’s 62nd Annual Academy Awards has something to prove. A show that was once a raucous dinner gala at the Cocoanut Grove has lost much of its spunk--and spontaneity. “It probably has become too stiff,” admits Crystal, an irreverent jokester who’s been hired after a three-year stint as the Grammys emcee to give the Oscars a jump-start. “My attitude is--let’s have a fun night and take the pressure off.”

Now the pressure’s on Crystal. The 43-year-old comic actor has been sweating it out in his Castle Rock production offices, writing routines for Hollywood’s Main Event, trying out a new quip every minute (“I’ve figured out how to keep the crowd busy during commercials--we’ll let them go after some Siskel and Ebert pinadas”). He is Oscar’s first official solo host since Chevy Chase was emcee in 1988. It’s no wonder Crystal’s a little wired. The 200-minute Oscar telecast could reach a billion viewers around the world. Comedians love a packed house, but as Crystal puts it: “The Earth is a rough room.”

Goldstein: Can you remember when you first watched the Oscars?

Crystal: Absolutely. I was growing up in Long Beach, N.Y., in the ‘50s. We had a black-and-white TV, a Dumont. And I was a TV freak. When Jack Paar had his show--don’t worry, I’ll get to the Oscars--he had Jonathan Winters on, who was my idol. And when Jonathan was done sitting next to Jack Paar, I’d take my chair and put it next to the TV, facing out, so I was Jack’s next guest. Watching the Oscars was amazing. It meant so much to see Bill Holden and Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in the audience with the lights all on. It seemed like Hollywood was this wonderful place where the angels sang when you got off the plane. Our whole family would watch the show. I remember my mother saying--”Go to bed, go to bed. It’s a ‘King and I’ sweep.” Some things never change--the best picture award will still be at 1:30 in the morning.

Q: What Oscar moments have stayed with you?

A: Goldie Hawn’s face when she opened the envelope and went, ‘Oh God, George C. Scott.’ David Niven and the streaker. Brando, who’s a huge idol of mine, when the Indian came up. I remember all that stuff. I loved Bob Hope’s monologues. When he walked out, it was the first time I ever saw a tux with tails. When I was 8 or 9, I’d go in the bathroom, hold up my toothbrush and thank the little people, make my speech. And you know what--on Oscar night I’m gonna have a toothbrush inside my jacket. (laughs) When other guys brought Miss May into the bathroom, I had a No. 2 with a nice bristle.

Q: How were you approached about doing the show?

A: I’d done the Grammys for three years and loved it, but I’d decided it was enough. Then (Oscar producer) Gil Cates called and said, “What about the Oscars?” And it took me about a month to say yes. I was worried about being the host. I’d done Comic Relief. I’d done the Grammys. I was worried about being pigeon-holed. So I talked to my friends--Rob Reiner, Martin Short and Chris Guest--and everyone said, “Hey, it’s the Oscars. “ But when TV Guide called me the new toastmaster general, I got frightened. But Rob said: “You do it well. So do it once. Have the experience of doing the Oscars.”

Q: How do you put together your material for such a huge show?

A: It is huge. My opening line may be “Good evening and welcome to the Oscar weekend.” I write with Robert Wohl, who worked with me on the Grammys and who’s a great writer, with a lot of energy and passion for these events. What we do, because we have so many options, is literally create a playbook, like a football playbook. So if one guy wins, I can say this. And if he doesn’t win, I can this.

Q: But do you leave room to improvise?

A: Sure. When Metallica played at the Grammys last year, it was real strange, because it was the first time a heavy-metal band had played the awards and smoke bombs went off and by the time it came back to me, it was like “Springtime for Hitler” in the audience. So as the smoke was filtering out, I said, “That song was written by Steve Allen.”

Q: When you do stand-up, you get a rhythm going. But at an awards show, your routine is constantly broken up by the show itself. So how do you adapt?

A: You have to create the rhythm. If you don’t have something funny ready, then you should know when to get the hell out of the way. Bob Wohl and I are sports freaks, so there’s a time when we throw away the clever remarks and go: “Fastball. Outside corner.” If you have a real star, all you have to say is “Ladies and Gentleman, Miles Davis.”

Q: Are there any topics that are taboo?

A: Well, you can’t fool around with Oscar. The statue itself. There’s actually a handbook of do’s and don’ts with Oscar. For Life magazine, we took a photo of these eight-foot Oscars and me with dark glasses. I wanted to do that for the show, but they got upset. They said, “You can’t put dark glasses on Oscar.” The academy has an older attitude you have to respect.

Q: Do you try out any of your material?

A: A couple of weeks ago I did a benefit for the rain forests and I tried out some stuff. They didn’t know. But it worked great. And when I came off I said, “Hey, maybe that’s gonna work.” And then I said wait a second--that’s the same audience that’s gonna be at the event! I’ll go to the Improv next week just to get in front of people. The hardest part about the show is seeing that audience, the biggest names in the world, staring at you. With the lights on! I remember the first time I presented an Oscar I walked out and-- BING-- there was Barry Levinson and Dustin Hoffman and Albert Brooks and Gene Hackman, right there, staring at me.

Q: You’re really playing two houses. One with 3,000 industry people. One with a billion people in front of their TVs all over the world. How do you keep them both happy?

A: I worry about unintentionally offending people just because our sensibilities are different. When I did my TV special in Russia last summer, I learned how different our idioms are. My sarcasm, that I would say with a straight face, they take seriously. They don’t have our comedians. They don’t have sarcasm. It’s been illegal. So I don’t want to upset anyone in Moscow or Malaysia (laughs) where there’s heavy betting on the Thalberg Award.

Q: Why do people all over the world have such an enduring fascination with our popular culture--especially the movies?

A: People in Leningrad asked me--and this is not a joke--if I could get them Jimmy Cagney’s autograph, because in the films they were just getting, he was still a young man. They wanted to meet him! It was so bizarre--I couldn’t tell them that he’d died four or five years ago at age 80. I mean “McKenna’s Gold” had just opened there! People were singing “Chattanooga Choo-Choo.” But they knew about the Oscars. When I was with relatives in Russia, they’d seen snippets of the Oscars on the news. And they said, in heavy Russian accents, “But the ‘Rain Man,’ it won five awards?” They knew. It’s that dream everywhere. It’s the same as me with that toothbrush. That’s what’s so great about this show--it’s our dream, going to the movies.

Q: Still, in recent years, the Oscars’ rating have steadily declined. Why?

A: I think there are just a lot more awards shows. And the Oscars have gotten a bad rap over the years. People always feel disappointed. Because you’ve grown up with these shows so you have a memory of all these great nights. Would Brando show? Where’s Woody? Are they together? So when it disappoints you, you get upset.

Q: But after last year’s debacle, doesn’t the show have something to prove?

A: Yes. That’s probably the pressure I’m feeling. I keep saying--I’m not the show. I’m just hosting. But I think it was a good sign when people who didn’t like the show complained about it last year. People want their show to be representative of the work they do. I saw the nervous faces last year when these people in huge cutout stars walked down the aisle last year and then Snow White came out. Everyone had that look of “Umm, wrong!”

Q: Everyone complains that the Oscars are too long. Three hours. Longer than a Rams game.

A: Longer than a six-minute Dan Quayle speech.

Q: So what can you do?

A: I think the word flesh-wound came up at our last meeting. They sent a very stern letter out that if you talk too much they’re gonna take away your courtside Lakers seats. But as far as the speeches go, if I worked my whole life to get to that moment, then damn it, I’m gonna thank everybody too. It’s such an emotional moment that when you get up there--and I’ve been up there--you just blank out. I’m pretty good on my feet, but I got lost. I was toying with the idea of opening the show with a telegram from Dustin Hoffman thanking Barry Levinson. Even Dustin forgot his own director!

Q: Will you be able to sleep the night before?

A: The night before? What about the week before? How about when I said, “OK, Gil, I’ll do the show.” It’s horrible now. Every hour, on the hour, I’m up thinking--”there must be a better intro for Gregory Peck. This is Gregory Peck after all.”

Q: The show is using satellite feeds from all over the world this year. Something is bound to go wrong. Are you having nightmares?

A: Sure. Mostly the nightmares have been a big TV screen with all this static and you hear me saying, “We lost the feed!”

Q: What do you do during the commercials?

A: I found a real good thing to do with the Grammys. They used to pipe in the commercials and it was horrendous. Every other second was a Michael Jackson-Pepsi thing. So last year we left my mike open and I kibitzed. It kept me relaxed. I took questions. I fooled around. And right around the 10-9-8-cue, I’d say something funny, so when they came out of commercial I was loose again.

Q: Comedy performances rarely win Oscars. Steve Martin didn’t even get nominated for “Roxanne” or “All of Me.” Why don’t comedians get respect?

A: I think people have a notion that it’s easy to do--it isn’t taken with the weight of the other performances. At the Golden Globes, Meg Ryan and I were both nominated--in fact our movie got more nominations than any film. Yet when it came to show clips, they only showed the dramatic clips. Then they said we’ll be back with the best motion picture, as if comedies weren’t motion pictures too.

Q: Were you disappointed that you weren’t nominated for an Oscar?

A: Sure. I feel bad for the film, because with all due respect--and I’m gonna get in trouble here--it may have been the most enjoyed film of the year. And definitely the most talked about. I don’t have any sour grapes. Well, maybe mini-grapes. But do you get disappointed? Sure. And you know why? Because it means the movie’s finally over.

Q: What happens after the Oscars. Are you too exhausted to watch the Barbara Walters special?

A: I don’t sleep the night before the show--or the night after either. It takes days before I can collapse. You’re so wired. But it has its rewards. It’s pretty great to have Burt Lancaster come over and say he’d like to meet you. I take my wife and the girls. I know this is sentimental, but I want the kids to get the feeling that they’d want to go into the bathroom someday with a toothbrush and say “Hey, my dad hosted the Oscars one year.” I want them to be part of that night. We’re gonna drag them to the parties and everything. Who says they shouldn’t meet Swifty Lazar in their lifetime?