The 1998 Academy Awards ceremony—airing on Monday, March 23, of that year—was the first one I ever watched in full, a relatively newly minted teenager allowed to stay up late and eager to see if his beloved Titanic would pick up 14 trophies, one for each of its nominations. Many other people around the country tuned in for the much the same reason, making the broadcast—with 55.25 million people watching—the highest-rated Oscars ever.

To commemorate the nearly 20 years it’s been—and just in time for this year’s sure to be much more modest ceremony, on March 4—here’s a recap of what went down that historic night. Starting, as ever, with Barbara Walters’s pre-ceremony interview special.

Here, fuzzing out of the past, comes Will Smith, ready to talk to Barbara.

It was March 1998, so of course Barbara only wants to know one thing: “What’s that saying now, that everybody’s doing?” It was, of course . . . Gettin’ jiggy wit it.

“Do you think I’m getting jiggy with it, or do I strike you as awfully square?” Barbara asks of young Will. He tells her, “You exude jiggy essence.”

Kim Basinger, nominated for L.A. Confidential, will be on later to talk about confronting her fears.

Burt Reynolds, nominated for Mark Wahlberg’s least favorite movie (Boogie Nights), is there to talk about what he’ll do if he doesn’t win. (Uh oh . . . )

Then the special begins in earnest. There’s Barbara in her usual dream mansion, clad in a gown and introducing her big special.

It is funny to think that two of the big guests on Barbara’s big special were . . . Kim Basinger and Burt Reynolds. But it was the 90s! A different time!

This special was brought to us by The Horse Whisperer, as most things in 1998 were.

(Seriously though, The Horse Whisperer is a really underrated movie that is actually quite good and smart and lovely.)

Also in the ads captured on this DVD, we get a brief glimpse of Jon Corbett about to hawk us a Ford . . .

. . . before he’s interrupted by a flash of Ariel herself, a mere nine years after The Little Mermaid’s release. (Did Disney let it out of the vault in 1998?)

Then it’s on to Will Smith’s interview. While introducing him, Barbara says, “He is the hippest thing ever to hop out of rap and into the mainstream.” I . . . don’t know if that was true in 1998, Babs. Also, what does “mainstream” mean there, exactly?

At first it’s Will with his new wife, Jada Pinkett Smith, talking about their relationship.

Then it’s just Will alone, talking about how being raised by a strict father meant he’s never tried marijuana or cocaine. And yet he still made Wild Wild West!

Next up: Basinger’s segment. Of course Barbara had to lead with the fact that, whoops, Kim Basinger was broke for a while because she once bought a whole town.

Basinger also was sued for backing out of the movie Boxing Helena (the role was Madonna’s first), and ended up in bankruptcy. But don’t worry, a savior was on the way.

Yes: in 1998, Alec Baldwin was viewed as a fixer of destruction rather than a creator of it. What a time to have been alive.

The rest of the Basinger interview is standard-issue Walters. The Burt Reynolds one is much the same, though there is a nutty moment when Walters runs through a list of all the things Burt Reynolds turned down in his career (MASH, James Bond, Terms of Endearment) and Burt is all:

O.K. Enough of Barbara. It’s over. Kim Basinger as a nightclub singer in The Marrying Man plays over the end credits. Remember when all ABC show credits had that yellow and black motif?

Then there’s an ad for a shark-man hybrid creature-feature starring newly post-Coach Craig T. Nelson and Kim Cattrall, who was about to have her life changed when Sex and the City premiered in June 1998. No more creatures for you, Kim! Unless you count S.J.P., which, from the sound of it, you do!

Then, an important message from me to you.

All right, finally it’s time to start the main event!

Well, actually, first, a survey of the red carpet. Look at these young bucks about to have a good night.

Future winner Helen Hunt makes her Helen Hunt face.

Boogie Nights nominee Julianne Moore with a cute haircut.

Robin Williams. Sigh.

“Who else but Cher?” says the announcer. And indeed, who else.

“First-time nominee Greg Kinnear.”

Look! It’s our Oscar queen Sharon Stone, who’d just married Phil Bronstein the month before.

And here’s Gloria Stuart, making a splash at 87 years old in Titanic. What a fun thing that was.

Uh oh. It’s Faye Dunaway.

And here’s Sigourney Weaver auditioning for the following year’s The Matrix.

Holly Hunter and the previous year’s best-actress winner Frances McDormand with distinctly late-90s ’dos.

Remember Kate Winslet’s fabulous emerald dress?

Helena Bonham Carter on her own hair journey.

Drew Barrymore back when she was doing that whole thing.

Dennis Quaid and Meg Ryan, doing her best to further the tiny sunglasses cause.

Remember when Cameron Diaz looked like Briony from Atonement?

And finally, Madonna.

At long last, let’s head inside. There’s the stage, flanked by Oscar statues wrapped in their traditional waffle cones.

And here’s your host, Billy Crystal!

Aw, rats. No. It’s boring old president of the Academy Robert Rehme, here to say stuff about how it’s the Oscars’ 70th birthday and “we’ve baked a cake big enough for the millions who share our enthusiasm.” Wait is the cake literal or metaphorical? It’s never made clear. Rehme then thanks the late composer Jerry Goldsmith for composing “Fanfare to Oscars” for the occasion. Because if there’s anything the Oscars need, it’s more fanfare about themselves. This self-aggrandizing will prove a troubling constant throughout the broadcast.

That chore over, it’s time to get one of Billy Crystal’s patented “imagine if I was in the nominated movies” clip reels. It’s a particularly debasing one this year, with Billy getting spit on by Kate and Leo . . .

. . . dunked in a toilet by Guy Pearce . . .

. . . forced to disrobe in front of the Full Monty guys . . .

. . . dress in drag as Kim Basinger’s character in L.A. Confidential (the crowd goes wild for this one, because he’s dressed like a lady!) . . .

. . . get strangled by Robin Williams’s Good Will Hunting character . . .

. . . and finally this.

Eventually Billy enters the stage, lowered on a Titanic boat just like the some 1,500 or so people who sank into the icy depths on the real vessel.

Erstwhile Oscar front-row mainstay Jack Nicholson approves!

Crystal begins his monologue, saying the Oscars are just like the Titanic. “We’re huge, we’re expensive, and everyone wants us to go a lot faster.” Oh no, and now he’s going to sing. He starts crooning about Titanic, joking about its troubled production, its massive budget, and its length, to the tune of the Gilligan’s Island theme. At first, James Cameron isn’t sure he likes it.

But, then he smiles and begins to sing along to the refrain, “A three-hour flick.”

Crystal singles out Gloria Stuart, probably the feel-good story of the whole evening.

Then it’s time to skewer As Good as It Gets, with some actually cleverly intricate lyrics. Jack, once again, loves it.

Crystal then goes into the audience, makes a Mars Attacks! joke and has Helen Hunt take a picture with a disposable camera. I wonder if that photograph still exists somewhere. Maybe James Cameron can build a whole epic romance around the search for it.

Now it’s time for Good Will Hunting. Crystal says of Matt Damon, a very young best actor nominee among a field of old vets, “He must feel like he’s playing on the seniors tour.” A baby-faced Damon laughs.

The little Good Will Hunting song is set to the tune of “Night and Day” (“Matt and Ben” instead of, well, “night and day”), and it’s basically just Crystal talking about how young and cute they are. “I hate you both,” he says, perhaps some grim foreshadowing of things to come.

During the Full Monty number, Crystal does this harrowing pantomime.

The audience laughs at the mere mention of the movie. The people of 1998 really liked The Full Monty and thought the idea of male nudity was very funny. Have we grown as a species since? I just don’t know.

More quickly than expected, Crystal concludes his song (the benefit of only having five best picture nominees, I suppose) and it’s time for the first award: best supporting actress! Last year’s supporting actor winner, Cuba Gooding Jr., comes out to present, advising whomever wins to take their time, a reference to his own exuberant speech. “Don’t listen to the music,” he says, “Do your thing.” Somewhere, the producers put pistols in their mouths.

Then the nominees are announced. Kim Basinger, Joan Cusack for In & Out, Minnie Driver for Good Will Hunting, Julianne Moore, and Gloria Stuart.

Kim Basinger wins, looking stunned even though she was the front-runner that whole season. Alec Baldwin has to pull her to him so he can yell at her—out of joy!

Jack Nicholson gives her a standing ovation and they kiss on the cheek as she staggers by. When Basinger gets up on stage, Baldwin can be heard whooping loudly. Basinger throws her arms up in triumph.

Before we leave Kim Basinger be, watch this stagehand/awards-escort lady have no idea how to guide Kim Basinger or anyone else off the stage.

Exhausting. Time for a commercial break. The announcer says “stay tuned for Dustin Hoffman and Elisabeth Shue.” Would you like to stay tuned for them?

Hopefully you do, because when the broadcast returns, Crystal has some really pointed material about the “Lewinskygate” scandal that had just broken wide open in January of 1998. “A year ago Washington was complaining that there was too much sex in Hollywood. So.” he says dryly. The audience laughs and claps heartily. “A billion people are watching tonight,” he continues. “Except for Linda Tripp, who’s taping it.” That’s actually pretty good! But then he has to go low and add, “Is it just me or does she look like Michael Caine in Dress to Kill?” Boo, Billy. Ah well, Michael Caine likes it.

Speaking of Dress to Kill, it’s time for best costume, presented by Elisabeth Shue. She seems excited to be there.

Unsurprisingly, Titanic begins its long run of wins. Gloria’s all about it.

Next, Dustin Hoffman comes out to present a Salute! To Oscars, a clip reel featuring all 69 best-picture winners. Hoffman pauses, then says something to the effect of, “I wonder if that number is as significant internationally as it is here.” How ribald! “Jack is smiling,” Hoffman says, nodding to Nicholson. Anyway, then the clip reel runs and we see each best-picture winner listened chronologically. For a second I got excited, but then remembered that The Greatest Showman didn’t come out in 1952 and is called The Greatest Showman.

Oddly enough, the audience doesn’t really start clapping for movies until The Sound of Music. Disturbingly, Braveheart probably gets the loudest applause.

Then it’s time for “the bright young star of Scream 1 and 2, Neve Campbell” to present the first best song nominee, “Journey to the Past” from Anastasia. It’s sung, sweetly and now sadly, by Aaliyah.

Oh, Neve also introduced Michael Bolton, who sings “Go the Distance” from Hercules. He sings it as he sings all things: earnestly and with a full orchestra clad all in white behind him.

Bolton and Aaliyah take a bow together and it’s a nice little moment for them, but then the camera cuts to a familiar face to remind us of what’s to come.

After a commercial, Arnold Schwarzenegger takes the stage even though he doesn’t have a movie to promote or anything. (Unless it was really long-lead End of Days promo.) He’s there to introduce the first best picture nominee, Titanic, directed by his pal Jimmy Cameron. He makes jokes about working with Cameron back in his “low-budget, art-house days” and then yuks about how the film’s profits are so big that not even the best accountants can hide them. Then Schwarzenegger calls the movie The Titanic. Whoops!

It’s time now for best-supporting actor, which would normally be handed out by the previous year’s winner, which was Juliette Binoche. But, Billy tells us that she broke her foot doing a play in London (get well soon, Juliette!) and says that here to present on Binoche’s behalf is Celine Dion. She looks confused at first.

But don’t worry, she laughs in the end. She always does.

Then Billy says, “Look, me as a gift,” and gets under the podium. Funny!

Actually presenting the supporting actor award is past winner Mira Sorvino, who says: “A bail bondsman, a former president, a psychologist, a contemporary artist, and a porn producer. Sounds like the lineup for Politically Incorrect.” Imagine Juliette Binoche delivering that line! What a loss. Stupid foot. Anyway, Sorvino reads the nominees—Robert Forster for Jackie Brown, Anthony Hopkins for Amistad, Robin Williams for Good Will Hunting, Greg Kinnear for As Good as It Gets, and Burt Reynolds for Boogie Nights—and they cut to Reynolds doing a classic Lenny.

Williams wins and gets big hugs from Matt and Ben.

It’s a nice, sincere speech full of funny things—director Gus Van Sant is “so subtle you’re almost subliminal”—and everyone’s happy. Well, maybe not Burt Reynolds, who’s back to Lennying.

Then Williams makes his exit in classic Williams form.

It’s time then for Cameron Diaz to come out and present best sound. “If you’re trying to keep your Camerons straight, this is the Cameron that looks like 200 million bucks,” Crystal says.

Do you think Titanic wins? Of course Titanic wins. The guy who speaks first makes a funny joke about James Cameron “finally having the confidence to succeed in this business,” so everyone’s just dunking on Cameron tonight.

“The star of Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, Mike Myers” then comes out to award best sound effects editing, but first does a bit about how animals are not given their due in the industry, thus setting up a montage of animals in movies. Which is certainly something that was necessary for this several-hours-long show to really feel complete. At least it gave the Academy a chance to play a clip from Free Willy, perhaps the only time it will do that until Jason James Richter leaves us, hopefully at a very old age. Also, the montage shows Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog, who are not animals, they are puppets.

Then there’s a whole awkward sequence in which Bart the Bear (remember him??) is supposed to hand Mike Myers a gigantic envelope for the sound effects editing award. It doesn’t go exactly as planned and Myers looks terrified (“I just soiled myself,” he says when he returns to the podium), but eventually he gets the envelope in hand.

Shockingly, Titanic does not win the sound-effects-editing award. Haha, just kidding, it does. Of course it does.

Helen Hunt takes the stage in that classic ice-blue column of a dress to present visual effects. She flubs reading from the teleprompter, though, and has to start over.

Dear god then there’s another montage, this one a Salute! To Special Effects. Man are the Oscars self-indulgent on their big birthdays.

Finally, it ends (the last shot being a man hit by a train—cheery!). Never forget that Starship Troopers was nominated for an Oscar! Did it somehow beat Titanic? I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.

After that, Billy Crystal introduces a little mini Salute! To King Kong, before going into the audience and saying hello to original Kong star Fay Wray, who seems confused, but touched. Never forget that a befuddled Fay Wray was on hand to help introduce Matt Damon and Ben Affleck when they presented at their first Oscars.

Affleck and Damon are there to present the awards for short films, and they’re puckish and smirking as they present. It was so charming then!

A live-action short called Visas and Virtue wins. The animated prize goes to a short called Geri’s Game, which I wish was about Geri Halliwell but isn’t. It was the first Pixar short since 1989, as the studio had been focused on producing early feature films like Toy Story for most of the 90s.

Next up, surprisingly early, is Geoffrey Rush, there to present the best actress prize. I’m sure they put it in the middle of the show (yes, folks, we’re only in the middle of the show) to hold people’s interest, but wasn’t interest already sorta held by the Titanic of it all? Maybe not. I know mine was when I was 14 and eagerly watching from home. But not everyone is me.

Anyway, Rush announces the nominees: Helena Bonham Carter for The Wings of the Dove, Julie Christie for Afterglow, Judi Dench for Mrs. Brown, Helen Hunt for As Good as It Gets, and Kate Winslet for I don’t remember.

Even Julie Christie had a version of Aniston hair.

TFW when you know you’re going to lose to a sitcom star:

Helen Hunt wins, and . . . Does this look like they got along?

Hunt leads off by saying, “The first time I saw Mrs. Brown, I leaned over to my husband and said, ‘She’s going to win an Academy Award.’” Which . . . I can’t imagine made Judi Dench all that happy? Would it make anyone happy to hear that? Because, of course, they didn’t win an Academy Award, not if someone else is up on stage holding an award they’re saying you were gonna win. Kate Winslet gives a little head-shake of . . . who knows.

Hunt thanks writer-director James L. Brooks, then says, “Jack, I worship you, you know it.” Maybe they do like each other!

It’s a nice speech!

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the versatile and charming Antonio Banderas,” because it’s time for best dramatic score award! Banderas introduces Bill Conti and his Academy orchestra, and they get right into playing the scores of the nominated films. It’s pretty basic this year, no dancers or dream ballets or anything, though I suppose hearing Antonio Banderas say “Kundun” has its otherworldly charms.

James Horner’s iconic Titanic score wins, of course. Watching this is a sad reminder that Horner died in a plane crash in 2015. Thanks for the beautiful and indelible music, Mr. Horner.

You’ll notice earlier that I said that was best dramatic score. Yes, we’re in yet another Oscars year when dramatic scores were nominated in a separate category from comedy/musical ones, like the Oscars were trying to be the dang Golden Globes or something, but only about music. Anyway, “the exciting and talented Jennifer Lopez” is introduced to present the comedy/musical category, and this is where things get hairy. There’s a choreographed dance medley, guys. It’s best just to show you.

And finally the cast takes a much-deserved bow.

After all that, Full Monty composer Anne Dudley wins, the second female composer to win in this category in two years. (The year previous was the marvelous Rachel Portman.) Fun facts about Dudley: she was in the 80s synthpop band Art of Noise, and, quite fitting of a Full Monty composer, she produced “You Can Leave Your Hat On.” She’s also halfway to an EGOT!

Following Dudley’s speech, Billy comes out and makes a David Copperfield joke. David Copperfield approves.

Next up was best makeup, presented by this flower fairy.

It’s funny that they had Drew Barrymore introduce a category celebrating a ghoulish bug alien (Men in Black), frozen corpses (Titanic), and Queen Victoria (Mrs. Brown). But, they did, and Men in Black won, giving the legendary Rick Baker his fifth Oscar (out of seven, currently). This was the last of Titanic’s three losses this evening. (The other two were Winslet and Stuart.)

“Please welcome one of Hollywood’s most gifted actors, Alec Baldwin” to present the next best picture nominee, L.A. Confidential. Seems like a natural fit. The facial hair less so.

Time for more Billy! He does a little bit where he says he surveyed some famous people, and asked what their favorite films of 1997 were.

Hillary Clinton liked Conspiracy Theory, Kenneth Starr liked I Know What You Did Last Summer, Michael Jackson liked Face/Off, Robert Downey Jr. liked In & Out (because he was going to jail and rehab a lot in those days), Oprah Winfrey liked Good Burger (oof, Billy), and Mark Wahlberg liked Anaconda. So, sort of a cute bit, sort of not.

Samuel L. Jackson comes out to present best editing, and while he walks out, the two people cut to are Louis Gossett, Jr. and Spike Lee, for some reason.

Yawn, Titanic wins yet again. This is James Cameron’s first personal Oscar of the night, for his first time getting an editing credit on a film. If it wasn’t certain where the wind was blowing before (it was), the best picture win was basically a done deal at this point. Cameron thanks his five-year-old daughter and says that if she doesn’t know what the award is, “it’s called an Oscar and it’s really cool to get.” Sure. But also, ugh.

Now it’s time for the “exciting young star of Kiss the Girls,” Ashley Judd, to come out in quite the dress to give a little recap of the scientific and technical awards, held earlier. She trips a little on her dress as she makes her way to the podium and says, “I got to present alone tonight because I couldn’t find a man to walk eight feet behind me.”

Martin Scorsese comes out to do a tribute to Golden Age musical director Stanley Donen (who is still alive!). Donen, who directed an insane amount of classic movies—Singin’ in the Rain, On the Town, Charade, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, among others—is given an honorary Oscar and gives a speech as charming as his movies, singing “Dancing Cheek to Cheek” with his statuette. It’s worth watching.

Watching that:

Gus van Sant alum Matt Dillon then takes the stage to present the next best picture nominee, Good Will Hunting. I know it’s corny and we know things now we didn’t then, but man, I still like that movie. Boston strong!

Moving on! Dear god we have so much more to go. Billy Crystal introduces Madonna as “the hottest working mom in showbiz,” because he is hellbent on sexualizing every woman in the Shrine Auditorium, and she walks out to do the rest of best song nominees. Trisha Yearwood is up first, for Diane Warren’s “How Do I Live” from Con Air, one of the weirder movies to have a best song nomination. Yearwood sounds great, but without any production values, and knowing what’s coming up, she seems a little lost.

Still, it’s a solid performance, and Trisha Yearwood is probably the only Oscar performer whose cooking show I watch, so there’s that.

Next was dearly departed Elliott Smith, to perform “Miss Misery” from Good Will Hunting. What anyone was thinking sandwiching him between two power ballads we’ll never know, but he held his own, partially because of some friendly encouragement from Dion, the legend goes.

Anyway, turn on the fog machines and show us the orchestra, because it’s time for Celine. She gets all the big stuff, because, well, that’s what this year was all about. One interesting thing about this performance is the little story about Dion hitting her chest when singing, her signature move, and forgetting that she was wearing a huge, massively expensive diamond necklace. It went pounding into her chest and must have hurt like hell.

Then they all bowed together, and what a thing to have occurred once in America.

Madonna came back out to announce the winner—noticeably smiling when saying Elliott Smith’s name—and then delivering her sarcastic little “what a shocker” Madge moment of ’tude when “My Heart Will Go On” wins.

Now it’s time for Djimon Hounsou, some say snubbed for his work in Amistad that year (but an eventual two-time nominee for other things), to present documentary short.

A Story of Healing, about nurses, wins the prize. Robert De Niro comes on right after to present best documentary.

Spike Lee’s 4 Little Girls loses out to post-Holocaust documentary The Long Way Home. Director Mark Jonathan Harris would win again three years later for another film about the Holocaust, Into the Arms of Strangers.

We’re gonna stay grim, because it’s time for Whoopi Goldberg to introduce the In Memoriam reel. She quotes from Ecclesiastes and then we get to the death parade. It was a pretty rough year for men.

Yeesh. A real bloodbath. After a much-needed commercial break, Billy Crystal introduces Meg Ryan and actually calls her “a great actress” instead of joking about her looks. Progress!

Titanic is nominated in this category (production design), which means it wins. Let’s keep moving! Robin Williams comes out to present something, and while a little Robin Williams shtick was always fun, it’s less fun when the show is running this long and when the shtick is all to introduce . . . another montage. This one is a Salute! To Actors Winning Oscars, because I guess the Oscars are those jerks who have “birthday weeks” instead of just regular birth days. Then this unending montage morphs into a tribute to Billy Crystal doing bits in past Oscars, including the year before! This is unconscionable.

Finally Frances McDormand struts out to shoot a little life into the proceedings, looking a little like Anya from Buffy but not in a bad way.

I’m know I’m terrible, but he really was so cute.

Do we think he’s really been sitting there the whole time?

Nicholson wins and does a little jig, which is the appropriate way to approach Frances McDormand.

James L. Brooks and castmates are thanked. Greg Kinnear looks so happy.

After Nicholson’s charming speech—he thanked Miles Davis—the announcer says “Stay tuned for Sharon Stone,” and I have never been happier to hear anything in my life. Ahh! Here she comes, walking down a tunnel specially built for her to present best foreign language film.

Remember this was the year Stone famously paired a Vera Wang skirt with a Gap men’s shirt, said to be from her husband’s closet. She’s fabulous! Just look at her hitting everyone in the crowd with her piercing gaze.

Appropriate:

I love how much blocking they give her to do. To read the winner, she has to strut across the stage. She says, “And the Oscar . . . ”, pauses to interject, “Hi Dad, hope you’re feelin’ better” without missing a beat, and then announces the winner when she hits her mark.

“And the Oscar goes to the Netherlands, for Character,” she says. And it goes to Sharon Stone for character, too. The director can’t help but mention her when he gets on stage and Sharon stands to the side and laughs. She is a miracle! This long, agonizing show is saved! Now I know why she emceed the amfAR gala for so long.

That’s a tough act to follow, but Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau can of course try. They first give the adapted screenplay award to Curtis Hanson and Brian Helgeland for L.A. Confidential. And then comes the moment everyone was waiting for. Lemmon excitedly announces that Affleck and Damon have won, issuing a spirited “Yeah!” afterward.

Whoops.

It’s a very subdued speech.

Geena Davis then does a cute, innuendo-y introduction for The Fully Monty, and then it’s on to Roger Deakins losing another Oscar (for Kundun) as Titanic continues its march toward best picture. I feel ya, Kate.

Next, Susan Sarandon comes on to introduce the “Oscars family album,” an assemblage of all acting winners still alive and willing to participate. There’s a whole lot of them. Let’s scan the crowd. Oh! Spotted Cher. That’s all that matters.

But uh oh. There is trouble in their midst.

The whole thing is a little cruel to all the people in the audience who just lost, but oh well. It’s O.K. to be a little selfish at your birthday party.

Sigourney Weaver then comes out to introduce As Good As It Gets for some reason.

It’s now Warren Beatty’s turn to present, and he’s been tasked with best director.

And, of course, Cameron wins.

Cameron thanks his people.

Then of course he has his notorious “I’m the king of the world!” moment. Which, honestly, watching now is more just a dorky show of exuberance than a vainglorious megalomaniac thing. He’s just an excited geek.

It’s still not great though, and the audience isn’t really sure how to react. At least there wasn’t Twitter then!

Oh man, guys. This is almost over. Here comes Sean Connery to put us out of our misery.

Obviously Titanic wins; everyone’s jubilant. Except this one guy who doesn’t seem all that thrilled to be shaking Cameron’s hand.

The speeches are mostly unremarkable, except at the very end when Cameron asks everyone to observe a moment of silence for the people of the Titanic. Which I suppose is nice. But when he says, “During these few seconds I’d also like you to listen to the beating of your own heart, which is the most precious thing in the world,” that is a little much. Or a lot much. I like myself, but I’m not the most precious thing in the world. Sharon Stone is!

After that’s done, Billy Crystal makes one last joke—about hitting on Shirley Temple I think?—and then that’s the ballgame. The audience is tired, we’re tired, I’m tired, so I’m just gonna let this thing end right here.

Until next year. In the meantime, stay cool, friends.

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