And my Oscar goes to: The Skin

I know it’s 2 days later, but the Oscar just won’t leave me alone.

Yes, there was the one great painful irony of the night: Billy Crystal noticing how refreshing it is in the midst of the global financial crisis to celebrate millionaires giving each other golden statues. Funny. Sad.

But there was another one that went unnoticed. And was even sadder. It was the Oscar for best documentary short. It went to “Saving Face”, a documentary about a plastic surgeon who is helping women who have been injured in acid attacks. It was extremely strange to see clips from the movie showing the suffering of Pakistani women whose faces – and lives – have been destroyed by men throwing acid at them. And then to see Kodak theatre filled with women who just returned from appointments with plastic surgeons in which they paid to have acid put on their faces. And do some (reconstructive?) surgery. For millions of dollars. To make them look younger. So they appeal to men.

No, I have  never seen skin like in LA. Tight, shiny, ageless, story-less, wrinkle-less. Skin that looks beyond young: Skin that looks artificial, plastic. Skin worth a fortune. Skin that went through quite a lot of pain to look that way. Skin that was exposed to acid and cut to pieces in order to attract. Isn’t that some kind of tyranny? Some kind of punishment?

And there it was. The Skin. Right there in that room: Meryl Streep with a forehead of a 18 years old, J.Lo. with a skin 15 years younger, Angie looking like…. something not human. All applauding to “Saving Face”.

Ouch.