Like most other awards shows (and perhaps even more so than some), the BAFTAs are shrouded in mystery. This is a ceremony which, despite being broadcast over two hours in the evening, is actually pre-recorded much earlier in the day and, in reality, runs for an additional hour; one which edits down several winners’ speeches and on-stage moments; and one where attendees are already tucking into dinner and hobnobbing in the Royal Festival Hall’s glitzy ballroom by the time the public sees who has scooped the coveted best film prize.
So, what is it really like to experience in the room? And what can the buzz around certain nominees—and increasing lack thereof around others—tell us about the Oscar race as we enter the final weeks of awards season? I went inside the event to find out. From the slightly squelchy start to the sun-drenched champagne reception and the real mood in the auditorium as Oppenheimer’s domination began, here’s everything you didn’t see on TV.
The atmosphere around the BAFTAs is utter pandemonium
Those with glam squads, understandably, have a painfully early start, but even for me, a mere mortal, the BAFTAs began far earlier than I expected: 2 p.m., which is when the red carpet opens, ahead of a ceremony which kicks off at 5 p.m. and finally hits screens at 7 p.m.
By the time I arrived on the south bank, it was a gloriously mild and sunny day—shocking, really, for London in February—but only after a torrential downpour earlier that morning. This fact, coupled with the various roadblocks set up around the back of the Southbank Centre, created an atmosphere that was supremely chaotic to say the least. Attendees in ball gowns with spindly heels and long trains had to navigate not only puddles and potholes, but also curious onlookers, tourists, and joggers who seemed to have absolutely no idea what was going on. (There was more than one scream of, “You’ve stepped on my dress, mate!”)
Then, once you’ve managed to collect your ticket, find the right queue, and enter the red carpet (one which, I’m told, had to have all the rain repeatedly vacuumed out of it) via a tunnel lined with orange silk as Londoners peer down at you from the balconies above, you arrive at the bustling press pen. Journalists and industry folk are encouraged to keep moving, but I found one of the greatest pleasures of the day in sneaking into a corner here and watching the mayhem unfold.
Within minutes, Ayo Edebiri had arrived on the red carpet, and was quickly followed by Lily Collins, Daisy Edgar-Jones, Sheila Atim, novelist Yomi Adegoke, How to Have Sex’s director Molly Manning Walker, Paul Giamatti, and Sabrina Elba—so much star power in such quick succession, not to mention such an eclectic mix of it, that it made my head spin. To my right, red-carpet reporters quizzed guests on their favorite films of the year; to my left Rising Star Award nominee Mia McKenna-Bruce was excitedly hugging fellow guests; and behind me, I could hear the yells of fans asking Giamatti for his autograph. It’s a total assault on the senses, and quite unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
Ayo Edebiri was the belle of the ball
Once you are able to tear yourself away, ushers direct you up the Royal Festival Hall’s several flights of stairs to the fifth floor for a glittering champagne reception that spills out onto a sun-dappled terrace overlooking the Thames. It’s here that the celeb-spotting reaches a whole other level: in a single loop of the room, I saw Bridgerton’s Charithra Chandran, Queen Charlotte’s India Amarteifio, and Skins and Wuthering Heights’s Kaya Scodelario deep in conversation; Emily Blunt taking a photo with a young fan; the crowds literally parting for Christopher Nolan and his wife and producer Emma Thomas; and Mia McKenna-Bruce and Molly Manning Walker chilling on a sofa. After that, I passed a late-arriving Paul Mescal on the way to the bathroom, and inside, washed my hands next to an extremely polite Sandra Hüller, a double-nominee for Anatomy of a Fall and The Zone of Interest, who was fixing her hair.
The most popular person in the room—and at the post-ceremony dinner, too—though, seemed to be Ayo Edebiri, who was busy taking selfies and making the rounds. At one point, as the fifth floor became almost too crowded for comfort, I found myself pinned against a wall as Ayo rushed in front of me to hug Celine Song, and then said, “Oh, and isn’t that the How to Have Sex director? I want to meet her!” (One of my favorite actors gushing over some of my favourite women directors? Truly the culmination of my awards-season dreams.) At the dinner later, I spotted Ayo walking around and speaking to the likes of Lashana Lynch, Paul Mescal, Greta Gerwig, and Andrew Scott. There’s no doubt that she’s had a transformative six weeks with her back-to-back victories at the Golden Globes, Critics’ Choice Awards, and Emmys, and even though she ultimately left this particular ceremony empty-handed, if anyone has entered this awards season as an ingénue and emerged as a fully fledged star, it’s her. The BAFTAs confirmed her new status—and her future looks unquestionably bright.
Stanley Tucci and Dame Judi Dench were the stars of David Tennant’s opening monologue
After guests were seated in the auditorium (with us hacks up in the rafters, naturally), a presenter arrived on stage to give various warnings about fire exits, as well as the length and content of speeches (“a clock is ticking, but please do not mention the clock”; and a plea for “no sexual language or behavior”). Then the chair of BAFTA, Sara Putt, came out to give a brief speech, before we got to see the opening gag from host David Tennant which kicked off the broadcast—the one about him trying to get out of dog-sitting Michael Sheen’s new pooch, “Bark Ruffalo.” Perhaps this played better at home, but in the room, there was a baffled silence, barring pockets of laughter for the contributions from Stanley Tucci and Dame Judi Dench.
Once Tennant actually got on stage, his Trump joke played better, though a chocolate-themed quip (“I think Wonka gave us all a Boost”) elicited groans, at least from where I was sitting. (I noticed that it was dropped from the broadcast—and rightly so.) Beyond that, Tennant proved to be an affable and highly efficient host—he seemed to be speeding through the awards, which made proceedings feel a little rushed at first, but it was something the audience seemed grateful for by the show’s final third, when it was beginning to drag slightly. In the end, to everyone’s delight, the ceremony wrapped up about 10 minutes ahead of its scheduled three-hour run time.
Nick Mohammed’s “Mr. Swallow” skit was this year’s Ariana DeBose rap
Could anything top 2023’s “Angela Bassett did the thing”? No, not quite, but the Ted Lasso actor’s attempt at, er, light entertainment was even more excruciating to experience in person than I imagine it would have been to watch at home. As he roller-skated onto the podium and began doing a bit about someone having parked in Hugh Grant’s spot, it really felt like we’d entered a new, mind-bending dimension. Why on earth was this happening? No one around me seemed to know. I just couldn’t look away, but those in the balcony seats who were able to come to their senses more quickly took this skit as their cue to go to the bathroom and get themselves another drink.
The other performances fared better, though not by much. Hannah Waddingham’s slowed-down rendition of “Time After Time” for the In Memoriam package didn’t quite work, and Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s oddly costumed and choreographed “Murder on the Dancefloor” fell a little flat, too. Clara Amfo, who was sitting in the aisle in front of me, was gamely dancing along to the latter, but literally no one else was. All I’ll say is, I’m glad it wasn’t Cirque du Soleil again (a BAFTAs favorite), but surely we can do better. With both Ryan Gosling and Dua Lipa in attendance, couldn’t we have gotten some sort of “Dance the Night” and “I’m Just Ken” mash-up?
The evening’s MVPs included, in no particular order: Paul Mescal, Andrew Scott, Keegan-Michael Key, Hugh Grant, and the dog from Anatomy of a Fall
The loudest screams of the evening from across the auditorium were reserved for All of Us Strangers’s Paul Mescal and Andrew Scott, who did little more than walk on stage and charmingly present best animated Film. (I also enjoyed how they gently held each other as they walked out of the spotlight.)
As for who got the biggest laughs on a not-especially-funny night? I enjoyed Andy Serkis’s extended dog-related gag; Hugh Grant got the audience award for best and most concise award-presenter preamble with his Oompa-Loompa rhyme; and, in a moment that was—outrageously—omitted from the broadcast, Keegan-Michael Key did an extremely funny British accent before presenting the best production design award. Someone get this man to host an awards show, stat. Also, the fact that Nick Mohammed’s segment was shown on BBC One, while this was not? The mind reels. Oh, and another big laugh was reserved for Messi, the dog from Anatomy of a Fall, who popped up on the screen alongside his co-stars when the nominees for best casting were being shown. (Sadly, Cynthia Arra, the casting director responsible for his involvement, lost out to The Holdovers’s Susan Shopmaker in that category.) As awards season continues—and following a viral appearance at the recent Oscar nominees luncheon—Messi remains his film’s secret weapon when it comes to its best-picture campaign.
The screenplay category frontrunners have officially emerged
In a highly competitive year for both original and adapted screenplays, Anatomy of a Fall’s Justine Triet and Arthur Harari and American Fiction’s Cord Jefferson have been looking increasingly like the respective frontrunners—and BAFTA cemented this narrative. Triet and Harari were the perfect comedic double act, with the latter telling the room that if anything happens to him in the future, they should probably suspect foul play. Then there was Jefferson, who seemed overwhelmed, and spoke on the importance of taking risks in a risk-averse industry. Both wins and speeches were received rapturously in the room and will—I sincerely hope—be replicated on the Oscar stage soon enough.
Meanwhile, the acting races were a tale of two halves
After his BAFTA win, Oppenheimer’s Robert Downey Jr. looks unstoppable in the best-supporting-actor race, and has now perfected his particular brand of very funny and slightly self-deprecating acceptance speeches. Da’Vine Joy Randolph, the frontrunner for best supporting actress at the Oscars, is surely a lock, too, and gave one of her best speeches to date, combining some flirty banter with Chiwetel Ejiofor with a teary tribute to Paul Giamatti. Of her character in The Holdovers, she movingly said: “There have been countless Marys throughout history, who have never got the chance to wear a beautiful gown and stand on a stage here in London. Telling her story is a responsibility I do not take lightly.” Again, like Downey Jr., Randolph has riffed off of a few common themes in her awards season speeches so far, but as time goes on, she has become more eloquent and quicker to inspire tears in her audience. Both victories were lapped up by the BAFTAs crowd—and I, for one, expect even better speeches from the pair come the Academy Awards on March 10.
It was a more complicated story, however, in the leading actor and actress races. The response to Cillian Murphy’s best-actor win for Oppenheimer was warm, but there was also a lot of love for Giamatti and The Holdovers in the room, evident from the cheers that erupted whenever the film’s name appeared on the screen as part of a rundown of nominees. There was a sense that if Murphy couldn’t secure a win here, significantly closer to home, he had perhaps fallen behind Giamatti in the Oscar race. As a result, the victory was significant—but after a somewhat muted speech, I could easily see Giamatti sweeping in here at the SAG and Academy Awards. And as for best actress recipient Emma Stone? She was as wonderful as ever on stage—and the crowd went wild for her. However, her victory was always assured, given her main rival in the category, Lily Gladstone, shockingly missed out on a BAFTA nomination. This particular Oscar race now hangs on a knife’s edge, and the upcoming SAG Awards will be crucial to determining the final result.
Oppenheimer’s path to best picture now feels all but assured
A certain sense of inevitability hung around the final award presented at the ceremony, and when Christopher Nolan’s epic clinched best film following its best-director win, there were a lot of tired nods as well as much enthusiastic applause. The only thing that could now prevent it from winning the best picture Oscar is fatigue around its presumed frontrunner status, which could prompt voters to place other releases higher on their ranked ballots, though it’s unclear which rival could feasibly take its place. (The most surprising thing about the end of the ceremony was, in fact, the moment when a man in a dark suit who wasn’t part of the Oppenheimer team joined them on stage. He was later revealed to be a YouTube prankster who has a talent for infiltrating awards ceremonies.)
It’s also worth noting that while the likes of Oppenheimer, Poor Things, The Zone of Interest, and The Holdovers soared, Barbie, Maestro, Past Lives, and Killers of the Flower Moon were completely snubbed. When the latter films appeared on the screens, there was also less audible enthusiasm for them compared to their victorious counterparts. The BAFTAs often yield eccentric results compared to other awards bodies, and they’re by no means representative of the full picture, but this could be an indication that these four releases—which all missed out on crucial Oscar nods—are slowly losing momentum. Don’t be surprised if one or two of them leave the Academy Awards empty-handed, or with just a single statuette to show for their efforts.
For those in the room, it was an incredibly emotional night
Partly because of its habit of editing some speeches into shorter snippets to be shown during its “awards presented earlier” portion, the BAFTAs broadcast failed to fully capture the level of emotion in the room. Two of the speeches that were cut down were among the most powerful: one given by The Zone of Interest’s Jonathan Glazer and James Wilson when receiving the statuette for film not in the English language, in which the latter drew a line from the Holocaust to more recent events “in Gaza, Yemen, Mariupol, or Israel.” Another came courtesy of 20 Days in Mariupol’s director and best documentary winner Mstyslav Chernov, who ended his speech with a deep sigh and added, “Let’s just keep fighting.” Both were received by the crowd with a reverent silence, and then very loud applause.
Elsewhere, many tears were shed and many voices broke mid-speech. Samantha Morton was visibly moved when accepting the BAFTA Fellowship while the audience gave her a standing ovation, as was Michael J. Fox, who received the second standing ovation of the evening when he came out to present best film. The pioneering film curator, archivist, and programmer June Givanni was emotional when coming on stage to claim her outstanding British contribution to cinema award, and so was The Holdovers’s best casting recipient Susan Shopmaker; the creators of Earth Mama, which won outstanding debut by a British writer, director, or producer; the team behind British short animation winner Crab Day; and even Emma Stone, who looked teary while thanking her mother.
The one moment that almost made me cry, though? When Mia McKenna-Bruce was named the winner of the Rising Star Award and she, in her speech, with a lump in her throat, thanked her mum and dad saying, “You’re up there somewhere.” They were in fact seated quite close to me, and waved silently down at their daughter. When her speech ended, I saw her mother weeping. This, in the end, is the best of awards season—not the endless thanking of agents and publicists, and the brutal campaigning, and the never-ending shop talk, but the genuine tears of joy from family members who get to watch their loved ones, presumably after years of heartache and hurdles, triumph on one of the biggest stages in the world. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.
