Selfies, police dogs and superstitions – Peter Bradshaw’s big night at the Oscars! | Oscars 2026

TThese were the Oscars of life during war. President Trump’s as-yet-unexplained attack on Iran meant warnings of a possible retaliatory drone attack from Tehran on the target-rich environment of downtown Los Angeles. The sparkling Dolby Theater was reportedly in the crosshairs.

It didn’t happen. But this was a celebration that recognized the politics of a distant threat, and the politics of a nation rich enough to bear the costs of war and peace at the same time.

Joining the tuxedo-clad crowd heading toward the stage was traditional. But Los Angeles is very different than when I was last here to report on the night of the Oscars, in 2017.

Last time, I had an interesting conversation with the taxi driver, who turned out to be a comedian and actor striving to make it in Los Angeles. There’s no chance of that happening in this year’s Waymo driverless car — an apt metaphor for the way things change in life as well as in art.

This is a city that, according to everyone I spoke to — actors, producers, directors — is dominated by the dual crises of AI and streamers, and the alarming talking points about Tweedledum and Tweedledee, even if Hollywood can’t decide whether they’re bad or not. (The Oscars ceremony is soon scheduled to be delivered to a live streaming site: YouTube.) The biggest controversy was Timothée Chalamet’s amusing and ill-phrased comment about ballet and opera, which I thought was a fair point about the possibility of films in cinemas dwindling from huge universal enjoyment to niche connoisseur interest. It was a misstep that soured the mood for Chalamet, although he spoke after the vote had ended. And yet I heard a very distinguished French director say much the same thing: This was proof, if proof were needed, that Hollywood is careful and polite in the way it speaks publicly during awards season, and that a discourse of respect — however perfunctory — is extremely important. Chalamet’s crime was against that.

Although the drone attack did not materialize, it would have meant massive new levels of security for policing the red carpet. LAPD officers were swarming throughout the limousine lines approaching the stage, along with military personnel. A police dog made a scouting jump into the back of my car as we approached the entrance. I had to show my passport before being allowed onto the red carpet.

Once I was there, some strange events unfolded – part Kafka, part Lewis Carroll. I was directed to the wrong floor by disturbed attendees, and then it proved almost impossible to get back to the main section of the theater, where my seat was. Eventually, a nervous security guard escorted me out of the building, where the kitchen staff goes to smoke, past some unattractive boxes and back to the front, in a second attempt to enter the Oscars. At this point, my digital ticket beeped to indicate that I had indeed been accepted. This created a crisis and I had to be interviewed in a special “security suite” where I complained under my breath that I had just interviewed the Academy’s CEO Bill Kramer.

The security advisers calmed me down and allowed me to return behind the velvet rope, but their confusion was such that I was mistakenly allowed into the candidates’ area.

It was on the brink of delirium the entire time as spectators allowed into the stands on both sides were literally screaming at the sight of a celebrity, the rumor of a celebrity, or the thought of a celebrity. We all turned our heads like weathervanes at every howl. Who is this? Is it Timothy? Is it Timothy? Is it Timothy? Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! It turns out that this screaming fit was instigated by the hyperactive and hugely popular comic character Ken Jeong, a genius mischief maker and member of the mega KPop anime team Demon Hunters. He was prancing around on the red carpet, shamelessly teasing the crowd – who were, after all, on the verge of a near-psychological collapse. any Kpop star demon hunters.

As before, I was struck by how spacious and beautiful the Dolby Theater was – not at all the tacky mess others led me to believe. It’s certainly very impressive, like the Royal Opera House on steroids. Our host for the night was Conan O’Brien (also a cast member in the nominated film, If I Had Two Legs to Kick You, a stunt double that never rose to the level of a conflict of interest). The presenter was Matt Berry, a Briton known in the US for his role in the TV show What We Do in the Shadows – although it wasn’t entirely clear whether he would be allowed to laugh at his own expense, or just be a sort of sidekick to O’Brien. He had a joke about modeling himself after Basil Rathbone, which I laughed at, but not many others did. O’Brien himself performed reasonably well, starting with his impersonation of Oscar nominee and actual winner Amy Madigan, although a friend WhatsApped me from London to say on TV that it looked like he was trying too hard.

It was a bizarre event in some ways – although nothing came close to the shock and horror of the Smith-Rock slap heard around the world. Sean Penn simply did not show up to accept his award and there was no one to get on stage for him. Broadcaster Kieran Culkin shrugged his shoulders and walked off. The KPop Demon Hunters cast seemed really upset when their speeches went on for too long and were manipulated: in fact, it seemed as if their great victory had turned into chaos. Presenter Adrien Brody surprised the entire theater by spitting some gum into his hand, pretending to throw it at the audience, then putting it back in his mouth and announcing that he had swallowed it. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

But the most interesting – and perhaps extraordinary – part of the evening was the part of the In Memoriam montage dedicated to Rob Reiner and his wife Michelle Singer Reiner. It was the year in which many Hollywood giants died, including Diane Keaton, Robert Redford and Robert Duvall, but Reiner’s passing took a strangely prominent place, with a moving speech delivered by Oscar night veteran Billy Crystal (a longtime friend of Reiner and famous star of Nora Ephron’s When Harry Met Sally), with cast members from many of Reiner’s great films standing by Crystal’s side when it ended. But of course, the Reiners didn’t die like everyone else in In Memoriam — they were killed, and there seemed no way to acknowledge or come to terms with that terrible truth. However, Crystal’s speech was solemn and heartfelt, and it was poignant to see this Hollywood legend speak at a moment when something so real, so painful, and so unresolved was at stake.

Once the party was over, we all flocked to the Governors Party, a formal event that I thought was more fun than supposedly very exclusive events like the Vanity Fair Party. The Prefects’ Ball is a fun event, with a quirky high school energy, and I found myself chatting with Chase Infiniti and Renate Reinsve, whose dress was the most stunning of the night. Culkin sportingly corrected my fist as I tried to take a photo of us. Jaafar Panahi was graciously tolerant of the whole surreal circus. Alana Haim was absolutely gorgeous as she is on screen. Brilliant Brazilian director Kleber Mendonça Filho was philosophical about not winning. Paul Thomas Anderson was a study in gentle calm.

Winners can get their statues engraved in a special “bar” area – like a very luxurious version of a place where you can clip keys and mend your shoes. Here I had a historical experience. The writers and directors of the Oscar-winning short film “Two People Exchanging Saliva,” Alexander Singh and Natalie Mostata, rushed toward me in ecstasy, holding their statues and smiling. I was talking to Alexander before the show and wished him well. Now they have won! (In fact, they tied with another film called The Singers, but won nonetheless). Can I please hold their Oscars? Please? Without hesitation, they let me carry their valuables, one in each fist — a grotesque, pathetic parody of Anderson’s actual, Oscar-worthy double-fisted carry that takes place in another part of the room — while Alexander and Natalie filmed me laughing. And yes, they are really heavy. But the other party guests looked at me warily. This kind of thing isn’t really done. One of the Oscar myths is said to be that if you touch an Oscar statuette that isn’t yours, you’ll never win it. So, if the Academy introduces a new Oscar for Best Review, I’m full.

The unusual thing is that the Oscars were really different. It’s common to mock liberals in Hollywood for frolicking in their fantasy land while the not-so-cool adults in Washington deal with the real world. Now, with Trump saying he wants to bomb Iran for “fun,” it frankly seemed to me that it was Hollywood that had the real adults, the real leaders, not this administration with its big-booted entourage and atmospheric-style war videos. Maybe these winning films will still be admired in years to come, maybe they won’t. But the night of the 2026 Oscars had something I never expected to attribute to it: a kind of quiet dignity.