The 97th Academy Awards ceremony wasn't just another glitzy Hollywood affair—it was a watershed moment for the art form we call cinema. As the dust settles on what many are calling the most significant Oscars in decades, I find myself reflecting on how this year's ceremony didn't just honor films; it celebrated our collective journey toward a more inclusive, empathetic understanding of the human experience.

In an era where our differences are too often weaponized to divide us, the 2025 Oscars reminded us of cinema's unique power to unite us through storytelling that transcends boundaries. The night wasn't perfect—no human endeavor is—but it demonstrated that when we open ourselves to diverse voices and experiences, we all become richer for it.

The Unexpected Revolution of "Anora"

Who could have predicted that Sean Baker's intimate character study would dominate the night with five Oscar wins, including Best Picture? "Anora" isn't just a film; it's a revelation that challenges our preconceptions about who deserves to have their story told. In the journey of a Russian sex worker navigating a complicated marriage with the son of a wealthy oligarch, Baker has crafted a nuanced portrait that never veers into exploitation or judgment.

The Academy's embrace of "Anora" signals a profound shift away from the safe, palatable narratives that have dominated awards seasons past. Baker's unprecedented achievement of tying Walt Disney's record for most Oscars in a single night (five!) speaks volumes about where cinema is heading: toward authentic human stories that refuse to sanitize the messy realities of existence.

What struck me most about Mikey Madison's acceptance speech for Best Actress was her acknowledgment that "characters like Anora have always existed at the margins of our stories, serving as plot devices or cautionary tales rather than fully realized human beings." By centering these previously marginalized characters, we expand our capacity for empathy and challenge the arbitrary boundaries that separate the "worthy" from the "unworthy" subjects of our attention.

The Beautiful Complexity of "Emilia Pérez"

Despite leading the nominations with a staggering 13 nods, "Emilia Pérez" walked away with just two awards—Best Supporting Actress for Zoe Saldaña and Best Original Song for "El Mal." Some might call this a disappointment, but I see it as a testament to how the film's bold fusion of crime drama and musical elements defied easy categorization.

What "Emilia Pérez" accomplished transcends mere award tallies. This boundary-shattering film from Jacques Audiard asked us to reconsider how we think about gender, identity, and redemption. In a world increasingly fractured by rigid ideological positions, "Emilia Pérez" dared to suggest that human transformation is both possible and worthy of celebration.

Saldaña's portrayal reminded us that supporting characters often carry the emotional weight of our stories, creating the context within which protagonists can evolve. Her win celebrates the often overlooked work of those who make space for others to shine—both on screen and in life.

The Surprising Triumph of Kieran Culkin

In what many considered the night's biggest upset, Kieran Culkin's win for Best Supporting Actor in "A Real Pain" reminded us that great performances often come in unexpected packages. After years of being known primarily for his role in "Succession," Culkin's portrayal of a man grappling with intergenerational trauma while on a heritage tour of Poland demonstrated his remarkable range.

What I found most moving about Culkin's performance was how it illuminated the ways we inherit not just genetic traits from our ancestors, but also their unresolved grief and trauma. In an age where we're increasingly aware of how the past shapes our present, "A Real Pain" offers a compassionate framework for understanding how reconciliation with history can lead to personal healing.

In his acceptance speech, Culkin remarked, "We're all carrying the weight of histories we didn't create but must nonetheless confront." This insight resonates far beyond the specific Jewish experience portrayed in the film, speaking to our universal need to make peace with the complex legacies we inherit.

Beyond the Winners: Cinema as a Mirror to Society

What fascinated me most about this year's Oscars was not just who won, but what the collective body of nominated films revealed about our evolving cultural consciousness. Consider the stark contrast between "The Substance"—Coralie Fargeat's body horror exploration of society's obsession with youth and beauty—and "Wicked," which reimagines a beloved fantasy world through a lens that questions who gets to define good and evil.

These films, despite their surface differences, both challenge us to examine the arbitrary categories through which we organize our understanding of the world. Whether it's the binary of youth/age, beauty/ugliness in "The Substance" or good/evil in "Wicked," these nominations suggest a growing appetite for stories that dismantle false dichotomies.

Meanwhile, "The Brutalist" with its three wins (Best Actor for Adrien Brody, Best Cinematography, and Best Original Score) reminded us that creating beauty often emerges from confronting the darkest aspects of human experience. Brody's portrayal of a Holocaust survivor who channels his trauma into revolutionary architecture speaks to art's power to transmute suffering into transcendence.

The Documentary That Shook the Room

Perhaps no moment at the ceremony carried more emotional weight than when the team behind "No Other Land" accepted the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature. The collaboration between Palestinian and Israeli filmmakers offered a glimpse of what genuine solidarity might look like in one of the world's most entrenched conflicts.

The fact that this documentary was honored amid ongoing tensions in the Middle East wasn't just a political statement—it was an affirmation that art created during conflict can help us imagine pathways to reconciliation that political discourse often fails to envision.

When co-directors Basel Adra and Yuval Abraham stood together on stage, their presence embodied the possibility that even amid seemingly intractable divisions, human connection can prevail. Their acceptance speech wasn't about assigning blame but acknowledging a shared humanity that transcends geopolitical boundaries.

The Renaissance of International Cinema

The victory of Brazil's "I'm Still Here" for Best International Feature, coupled with Latvia's "Flow" winning Best Animated Feature, signals that the Academy's horizons continue to expand beyond the English-speaking world. These wins aren't mere tokens of inclusion—they represent a genuine recognition that cinematic excellence knows no geographic boundaries.

What's particularly heartening is how these international films aren't being celebrated as exotic curiosities but as universal stories that happen to emerge from specific cultural contexts. Director Walter Salles' acceptance speech for "I'm Still Here" beautifully articulated this when he said, "Our stories are deeply rooted in Brazilian soil, but the emotions they evoke belong to all of humanity."

This shift toward a more global cinematic conversation enriches us all, offering fresh perspectives and narrative approaches that challenge the dominance of Western storytelling conventions.

Where Do We Go From Here?

As we look beyond this remarkable ceremony, I'm left wondering how we might carry its spirit of inclusivity and emotional honesty into other domains of our shared cultural life. The films celebrated this year didn't just entertain us—they invited us to expand our capacity for empathy and understanding.

In a world increasingly fractured by algorithmic echo chambers and polarized discourse, cinema remains one of the few art forms capable of creating a genuinely communal experience. When we sit together in the dark, surrendering to stories that may bear little resemblance to our own lives, we practice a form of radical empathy that our society desperately needs.

The 2025 Oscars weren't perfect—no human institution is—but they offered a glimpse of what's possible when we amplify diverse voices and celebrate stories that expand rather than contract our understanding of what it means to be human.

As I reflect on the films that defined this extraordinary year in cinema, I'm reminded of Roger Ebert's famous observation that movies are "a machine that generates empathy." In honoring films that center previously marginalized experiences, that challenge comfortable assumptions, and that refuse to provide easy answers to complex questions, the Academy has taken a meaningful step toward fulfilling cinema's highest purpose.

And that, more than any gold statue, is worth celebrating.