Conan O’Brien jokes about Ted Sarandos, Timothée Chalamet and ‘frightening times’ in Oscars monologue

Host bobs and weaves through a number of third-rail topics in Academy Awards speech that’s at turns silly and sincere Oscars 2026 – follow the action live! The winners: the full list – updating live Conan O’Brien’s opening monologue at the 98th Academy Awards cheekily paid tribute to many nominated films – and then some – while acknowledging the tense US political situation and cracks at Timothée Chalamet, Amazon and US healthcare. After a snappily edited, old-school montage in which O’Brien, dressed as best supporting actress winner Amy Madigan ’s character in Weapons (“I look like Bette Davis with lupus,” he joked), stormed through each of the nominated films trailed by children à la Weapons, the second-time host bobbed and weaved through a number of pressing topics, from political divides to AI to Jeffrey Epstein. “I am Conan O’Brien, and I am honored to be the last human host of the Academy Awards,” he quipped. “Next year it’s going to be a Waymo in a tux.” Continue read...

Last Tango in Paris at 50: Bertolucci’s controversial drama remains troubling

The Italian director’s knotty drama remains a provocation, a film filled with lyrical beauty but also repulsive cruelty

Revisiting films on the occasion of major anniversaries can be a disorienting reminder of time’s too-swift passage: that film is now 20/30/40 years old? How can that be? Why does it still feel so much younger than I do? In other cases, however, the film wears its advanced age in a way that makes complete sense, and so it is with Last Tango in Paris, released in cinemas in 1973. Now a half-century old, Bernardo Bertolucci’s lightning rod for scandal and debate has dated in many of the ways you might expect, but that’s not quite what I mean: at 50, the film’s age has now caught up with the overriding air of middle-aged despair and disarray that it always carried. In a sense, it was a film made to be forgotten, and then remembered with bittersweet, conflicted feelings, its significant beauty curdled over time.

Bring up Last Tango in Paris in cinephile circles today – especially those reckoning with the gender politics of the artform post-MeToo – and you won’t hear that many fond endorsements. When it’s brought up at all, the conversation swiftly narrows to its most notorious scene: the one where Marlon Brando’s Paul, a recently widowed American abroad, holed up in a desolately furnished Parisian apartment, forces himself on Maria Schneider’s Jeanne, a 20-year-old ingenue whose name he refuses to learn. Grabbing a dab of fridge-cold butter for lubrication, he anally rapes her.

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