Hours after Oppenheimer swept many of the top categories at the 96th annual Academy Awards, director Christopher Nolan rolled into the Vanity Fair Oscar Party just after 10pm with his wife and producing partner, Emma Thomas, his two sons, and two big gold Oscar statuettes, one in each clenched fist.
“I am soo happy for you,” Rebecca Hall screamed into his ear as he walked past.
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Trailing behind him was Steven Spielberg, who had presented Nolan with the best director Oscar, his first ever. Nolan wove through a crowd that included Tracy Ellis Ross, Allison Williams, Colman Domingo, Adrien Brody, LeBron James, and Finneas, who was clutching an Academy Award of his own. Soon, best actress Emma Stone, best supporting actress Da’Vine Joy Randolph, and best supporting actor Robert Downey Jr. would head up the (very) red carpet clutching hardware of their own.
That’s just a snapshot of this year’s Vanity Fair Oscar Party, celebrating its 30th anniversary as the city’s most opulent, decadent, impossible-to-crash soiree—we’re biased, so what! Held annually at a custom-built structure in the middle of two streets abutting the Annenberg Center in Beverly Hills, the Vanity Fair Oscar Party has long been the place where the winners show up, Little Gold Men–in–hand, to raise a glass to the year’s achievements in filmmaking. (This year, those glasses as likely as not contained Don Julio 1942 and Moët.) But the party is so much more as well: a fantasy canteen of Hollywood’s megawatt stars smashed against each other at a bar, a place where brahmins of Los Angeles industry and culture and politics can hobnob, and a showcase for rising stars who get a chance to meet their heroes. It’s where titans of different spheres of influence co-exist for an evening. Maybe just think of it as an issue of Vanity Fair that got sprinkled with fairy dust and magically came to life.
It’s the only room where Nolan’s triumphant victory lap might be missed by some attendees at the other end of the bar, simply because there’s whole lot of commotion around billionaire Francois-Henri Pinault (longtime owner of the Kering fashion empire, newish owner of CAA) and his wife Salma Hayak-Pinault. They were soon joined by Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez, with Sanchez in a pink gown whose train was one of the night’s longest—which is saying something. Bezos went to say hello to James Murdoch while Sanchez gave Jessica Alba a hug, and suddenly Michael Keaton was slapping Bezos a big high five, and then the Amazon founder and his wife were snapping pics with Kim Kardashian, Odell Beckham, Kris Jenner, and a sunglasses-clad Lenny Kravitz. Then Kardashian ducked over to the bar, said hello to artist Jonas Wood, and ordered a shot of tequila. Across the way, her half sister Kendall Jenner, wearing Maison Martin Margiela, was arm-in-arm with Ari Emanuel and his wife Sarah Staudinger. At another corner of the bar, Glen Powell asked Elizabeth Banks if she knew Charles Melton.
“Oh, we know each other,” Banks said, embracing him.
The evening actually began in bright daylight, as the awards broadcast now officially kicks off at 4 pm Pacific Time. Invitations to the pre-party dinner listed a start time of 3:30, and Joan Collins showed up 20 minutes early, because she can. Netflix head honcho Ted Sarandos skipped the ceremony and plopped down in one of the plush sofas set out in front of a theater-sized screen displaying the awards, soon to be joined by Jason Bateman and his podcast co-hosts Will Arnett and Sean Hayes. John Waters sat a few rows behind, and Chloë Sevigny beelined to greet the Baltimore native and hero of independent cinema. When Jon Hamm arrived, he went to the front room to give Jeff Goldblum a bear hug, briefly blocking everyone’s view of the screen.
Google co-founder Sergey Brin arrived and briefly ditched his jacket, strutting around in a white Alo T-shirt. But most of the guys were fully in evening wear despite the sun beaming down outside. Glen Powell, in head-to-toe Tom Ford, saw Tom Ford himself sipping a Diet Coke at the bar and flapped his hands over his whole fit.
“It’s all you, buddy!” Powell said to Ford.
By the back of the bar, Open AI founder Sam Altman caught up with Murdoch, as Judd Apatow walked up to Larry David with two Nespresso martinis—then put himself in the unenviable position of having to explain the concept of an espresso martini to the baffled Curb Your Enthusiasm star.
Even as the dinner bell rang, it was hard to usher people to their seats, as Michael Douglas arrived and greeted his fellow legends, saying hello to Patrick Stewart before joining David and John McInroe at the bar, to talk—what else?—golf.
“Every once in a while he lets me play with him,” McInroe said, mimicking a swing at David.
“At the Riviera?” said Douglas, referring to the swanky west side country club.
People managed to mingle and take in the on-screen action at the same time. When Billie Eilish started performing “What Was I Made For,” John Legend grabbed his wife, Chrissy Teigen, saying, “Baby, this is your song!” before Teigen went to say hello to Jeremy O. Harris.
And right before dinner started, Nancy Pelosi arrived with her husband, Paul, then said hello to Larry David as Vampire Weekend singer Ezra Koenig watched slightly agog at the unlikely encounter.
Dinner was a sit-down affair cooked personally by Mother Wolf chef Evan Funke, interrupted only by a very considerate Trevor Noah: he’d found someone’s iPhone in Mark Seliger’s studio (sponsored by Nespresso!) and spent a good portion of supper asking the world’s most famous actors if it belonged to them. Trips to the restrooms offered the chance to touch up with a bit of ISDIN skincare stuff, which definitely would come in handy. The departures lounge, offered by hotel behemoth IHG, offered slippers and bathrobes to lounge the headache away the next day. And after Al Pacino threw out the script and ripped open the best picture envelope before announcing the nominees (an oversight that irked at least one producer who would attend the party), the tables cleared and more guests began streaming in.
Diane Lane introduced herself to Speaker Pelosi—”It is such an honor to meet you!” the actor told the congresswoman from California—as Pamela Anderson went outside to ask Funke about the pizzas he was making. (Reader, the Fra Diavolo pie was hitting.) Bill Maher made a beeline for Waters and Keaton, while Meg Ryan snuck up behind Larry David to surprise him. Matt Damon stopped to chat with Justin Theroux, while a trio of local museum directors—the Lucas Museum’s Sandra Jackson Dumont, LACMA’s Michael Govan, and MOCA’s Johanna Burton—confabbed in the middle of the room. Just beyond Sir Ben Kingsley and Charli XCX, Condé Nast CEO Roger Lynch chatted up Adrien Brody, while Vanity Fair editor in chief Radhika Jones said hello to Sally Field. At one point, Jon Hamm started singing “Happy Birthday” to Sharon Stone, who then started singing happy birthday back to Hamm.
“Wait… it’s both of your birthdays?” a confused Sevingy asked.
Yes, March 10 really is both of their birthdays. Happy birthday, Jon and Sharon.
Justin Timberlake showed up with Jessica Biel and a trio of Haim sisters in tow, and then the entirety of Haim went to chat with Steven Spielberg, who was standing alongside his daughter Sasha. Another adorable father-daughter moment: singer Gracie Abrams stepped off the red carpet just to be surprised by her father, director J.J. Abrams. (For those not able to attend, the red carpet was streamed live right here on VanityFair.com, courtesy of XEOMIN and ISDIN.) Jennifer Lawrence walked in to a fangirling Maggie Rogers at the same time that Jeffrey Wright caught up with Russell Westbrook, wearing all Thom Browne. Zac Posen knelt down to get some stories from Rita Moreno, as best actress nominee Lily Gladstone hit the carpet. Greta Gerwig was greeting friends outside, while her husband and Barbie co-writer Noah Baumbach said that he has to fly to London tomorrow to start shooting this week.
Cord Jefferson, who won the best adapted screenplay contest for his directorial debut, briefly handed over his Oscar to me, saying “it’s really heavy right?” and then got flagged by Tyrese, who insisted they exchange numbers.
As the hour crept toward 11, there were zero signs of anything slowing down—if anything, things were speeding up at a pace that would probably test that whole theory-of-relativity thing Einstein talked about in Oppenheimer. It was around that time that Lindsay Lohan arrived, and made her way to chat with her old friend Paris Hilton, for just a brief second resurrecting a very specific era of the glorious mid-aughts. Apple CEO Tim Cook was spotted in a gaggle next to Hunter Schaefer and Ramy Youssef. Flavor Flav gave Matt Damon a very long hug, and just as Tiffany Haddish was trying to corral together a photo—“It’s Black excellence, let’s go!” she yelled”—Busta Rhymes strutted in off the red carpet and into the party.
But the most satisfied person at the party, despite the fact that he lost the best actor Oscar to Cillian Murphy, must have been Paul Giamatti. After the Golden Globes, the actor had to drive himself to an In-and-Out Burger for a double-double with onions. But as soon as he walked into the Vanity Fair Oscar Party, there was a tray of In-and-Out, and Giamatti happily tucked into one.
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