'Forrest Gump,' Good as Gold

LOS ANGELES, MARCH 27 -- Occasionally, the Academy Awards serve up a surprise that has movie fans debating for weeks. This wasn't one of those years.

To the shock of absolutely no one in Hollywood, "Forrest Gump," the story of a sweet simpleton's walk through 30 years of turbulent American history, won six Oscars, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor for Tom Hanks.

"Miracles happen every day," beamed director Robert Zemeckis, when asked to express his feelings, using a Gumpism. "People don't think so, but they do."

The "Gump" sweep shut out the highly touted "Pulp Fiction," which won only one Oscar, for Best Original Screenplay. Director Quentin Tarantino was the only Oscar winner who declined to meet with the press after receiving the award.

Hanks, who won last year for his role as an AIDS victim in "Philadelphia," became only the second actor in history to win back-to-back leading actor awards. Spencer Tracy won in 1937 for "Captains Courageous" and in 1938 for "Boys Town," which House Speaker Newt Gingrich recommended everyone should watch.

Backstage a jubilant Hanks joked with reporters and rejected the notion that "Gump" is a platform for a traditional conservative agenda. "I think it would be kind of cheesy proselytizing for me to stand up here and say, This is it. This is a movie that says you've got to respect your mom and you can't tell lies and you must love the president,' " said the 38-year-old actor. "Forrest Gump doesn't operate in that sort of fashion."

Jessica Lange, who captured Best Actress honors for "Blue Sky," finally won the top award after three previous nominations. The role that finally brought her the honor was that of a manic-depressive Army wife in a movie that sat on the shelf for three years before being released and was seen by very few moviegoers.

"There was a period of time I was so worried about being taken seriously," said the 45-year-old Lange, who won supporting actress honors for 1982's "Tootsie." "Then when I was taken seriously, I was worried I would lose my looks."

Among the evening's other non-surprises, Martin Landau and Dianne Wiest captured Oscars for Best Supporting Actor and Actress. Wiest won her second supporting actress Oscar for her role as the vain, alcoholic actress in Woody Allen's "Bullets Over Broadway." The director, who once again skipped the ceremony, has proved to be Wiest's good-luck charm. She picked up her first Oscar in 1986 for a supporting role in Allen's "Hannah and Her Sisters."

Landau, perhaps best known for the television series "Mission: Impossible," won his Oscar for his portrayal of the vain, drug-addicted actor Bela Lugosi in "Ed Wood."

"Clearly, you can only play what you understand," laughed the actor backstage.

Twice nominated but never a winner, Landau was obviously basking in the attention and made up backstage for being cut off onstage during his acceptance speech. He told reporters he had some doubts that he would win the Oscar since so few people actually saw the film, which only made $6 million in the United States.

Then he pulled out a fortune that he had received in a Chinese restaurant and has been carrying around for weeks: "You will receive some high prize or award."

As did several of the presenters, Landau wore a pin made up of two 32-cent stamps, representing the annual cost per taxpayer of the National Endowment for the Arts. The beleaguered agency also got a plug from composer Quincy Jones, who received the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. At the start of the ceremonies Arthur Hiller, president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, which presents the awards, spoke of the "desperate" need for money to preserve films and to encourage artists.

Washington filmmaker Charles Guggenheim won his fourth Oscar for "A Time for Justice," which took the Documentary Short Subject category.

"People say it's thrilling, but it's torture," Guggenheim said. "My stomach hurts from tenseness. You'd think I'd get used to it, but I never do."

Guggenheim was also nominated for Documentary Feature for "D-Day Remembered," but he lost to Freida Lee Mock and Terry Sanders's "Maya Lin: A Strong Clear Vision," about the woman who designed the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

"Gump" took nine years to get made, went $15 million over budget and was greeted with many lukewarm reviews when it was finally released last summer. But a funny thing happened on the way to the box office: The story of the innocent from Alabama was embraced by the public and adopted by conservatives as the great right hope. Tonight, $320 million in box office receipts later, "Forrest Gump" has arrived.

Here in Hollywood, where sentimentality usually comes in a weak second to blazing machine guns, the likely success of "Gump" was being touted as the triumph of kindness over killers, of family values over the dark, edgy hipness of "Pulp Fiction."

"The people who speak out most give the impression that Hollywood is a more liberal community than it is," said Oscar producer Gil Cates. "It's a very thoughtful community."

And so, everyone from those thoughtful waiter-actors to the Vegas oddsmakers predicted: "Gump" in a landslide.

One explanation for the film's popularity is that the character of Forrest Gump travels through some of the most painful recent times in American history without becoming embittered, cynical or scared by the experience.

"It gives the baby-boomer generation permission to grieve in public," said Eric Roth, who won an Oscar for his screenplay adapted from the novel by Winston Groom. (Groom, incidentally, was left out of most of the thank-yous tonight.)

In the Shrine Auditorium, 6,000 Academy members watched host David Letterman spin his television magic and Stupid Pet Tricks on the quintessential movie crowd. The audience for the live broadcast on ABC was estimated to be 75 million in the United States, 1 billion worldwide. "This is the Super Bowl for women," said ABC executive Dan Doran.

Fans lined Jefferson Boulevard all weekend, hoping for a glimpse of their favorite stars as they arrived at the Shrine to rehearse for the three-hour extravaganza. Presenters Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta, both nominated for their performances in "Pulp Fiction," were relaxed and affable as they posed for pictures backstage for well-wishers.

Every 10 minutes, another household name would float in -- Hanks, Sally Field, Uma Thurman, Ellen Barkin, Sylvester Stallone -- sending dozens of Hollywood functionaries into a frenzy of kissing-up and barking orders.

"Steve Martin is finished," one publicist whispered urgently into a walkie-talkie. "Get his car, please."

God forbid Steve Martin should have to wait for his car.

"The stars are okay," shrugged an industry reporter covering the scene. "It's the people around them. They hire professional bastards. Letterman's are the worst."

Neither Letterman nor his people were in evidence, nor were the nominees who weren't presenting an award. In their place: hired stand-ins, who were paid to sit in their seats and gush appreciatively if their names were called during the rehearsals.

Hoi polloi had to content themselves with the scene outside, where security guards stood vigil over the gold laser-cut Oscar that was inlaid into the red arrival carpet.

High above the carpet in the bleachers cheered the die-hard fans, who lined up Friday, camped outside in the parking lot and scrambled to grab the first-row seats yesterday afternoon. Self-described "Bleacher Babes" Eva Staples, Connie Kleiner and Jan Wood made the six-hour drive from Phoenix to secure a prime spot from which to gawk at their favorite stars for the seventh year in a row.

"When you make eye contact and get a picture . . ." sighed Kleiner from her seat. "Well, nothing on television can top that."

Winning the fashion parade on Oscar night has become almost as important as nabbing one of the little gold statuettes, which is why designers woo Hollywood's brightest for months before the event. The top stars receive custom-made gowns and tuxedos worth thousands; those on the B-list are loaned a fabulous little something that must be returned the following day.

Pricey togs, unfortunately, do not guarantee a successful walk down the long red carpet. "You can dress very badly for a lot of money," sniffed Fred Hayman, the Oscars' "fashion coordinator."

The dominant trend at this year's ceremony was the absence of much around the neck. Many of Hollywood's leading men, including Hanks, Morgan Freeman and Steven Segal, wore tuxedos but left the black-tie at home. The leading ladies opted for basic black with necklines that dropped perilously low and provided more than ample opportunity to appreciate their decolletage, especially that of Sarah Jessica Parker, Renee Russo and Jane Fonda.

And what would the Oscars be without a little sparkle? On Saturday, seven men in dark suits hustled into the Shrine with two black suitcases filled with $20 million worth of Harry Winston jewelry that the stars wore tonight. There were white diamonds, yellow diamonds, even pink diamonds, -- so dazzling that they looked fake. Super-model Claudia Schiffer -- "who required something really special," said company Vice President Laurence Krashes -- planned to wear a 26-carat knuckle-to-knuckle diamond ring worth $2.1 million.

Wearers, alas, are asked to sign a legal document promising that they will return the baubles, which are then snapped up by customers eager for a little Oscar glamour. The diamond necklace worn by Madonna two years ago was "bought right off the TelePrompTer," said Krashes, by a buyer from the Middle East.

Just another symptom of Oscar fever.

Special correspondent Kathryn Wexler contributed to this report.