And with that, I’m off. I believe I’m liveblogging the Oscars in a fortnight, so please mark that in your diary if you like staying up too late to watch things that go on too long. In the meantime, thanks for joining me. Cheerio!
By the way, when it comes to compile the list of best Bafta looks, please put Alan Kim FRONT AND CENTRE.
Here’s some analysis: the music that the Baftas used to soundtrack that 12-minute summary at the end of the show was exactly the same music that the BBC used in the Repair Shop advert that directly followed it. Wait, that’s not analysis. That’s just an observation. Sorry.
Finally, with a gratuitously unnecessary recap of the last two hours, it’s time to bid the 2021 Baftas goodbye. It was a tricky one to pull off given, you know, everything, but I’d call it a success. In fact, I think I’d take something like this over a flesh and blood awards show any day. Or an email. Just email me a list of winners next year.
Anyway, I’m going to hang around for the next half an hour to see if anyone has analysed this, and then I’m going to sleep.
And Noel Clarke won an outstanding contribution Bafta, too. It’s tacked on at the end in a slightly unseemly way, but the huge highlights reel of his work to illustrate it shows what a worthy winner he is.
I think the Baftas might had edited out the best speech. Tenet (remember Tenet?) won something for its effects, and it was accepted on a beach, and the guy accepting it appeared to fling himself off a cliff at the end of it. More like this, please.
Meanwhile, I have managed to get some much needed first-hand clarification on Emerald Fennell’s chocolate Bafta. You are all very welcome.
And that’s it. Well done, everyone. That was all very painless. As we wrap up, here’s a compilation of awards presented yesterday during that programme you probably didn’t watch. And also other films that came out last year that other people liked. And also Hillbilly Elegy for some reason.
NOMADLAND WINS BEST FILM
NOMADLAND WINS! So that’s best film, best actress, best director and best cinematography. Surely – surely – this is now the film to beat this year. Then again, that’s what everyone said about 1917 after last year’s Baftas, so what the hell do I know.
We are apparently at the final award of the night already. Look how slim and speedy this is! I like it. Honestly, this might be the only thing that’s selling me on pandemics. Anyway, it’s best film.
FRANCES McDORMAND WINS BEST ACTRESS
FRANCES McDORMAND WINS! And Frances McDormand isn’t around to pick it up either. Meanwhile, Aaron Sorkin turned up to lose. I don’t know who I respect more in this situation.
Richard E Grant (thirsty) is here to present best actress. Dermot O’Leary, by the way, just called him “One of the only national treasures we didn’t steal”, which made me full-on splutter into a glass of water.
ANTHONY HOPKINS WINS BEST ACTOR
ANTHONY HOPKINS WINS! And Anthony Hopkins isn’t around to pick it up, because the thought of Anthony Hopkins sitting through a two-hour awards show in front of a laptop is genuinely unthinkable.
Renée Zellweger is here to present best actor. And she has seemingly singlehandedly fixed the wi-fi problem in Los Angeles. This is star power. If she’s free, I’d like her to come and sort out my mesh network in my shed soon.