Demi Moore, Let Yourself Be Mad

Demi Moore spent the entire awards season playing nice, showing nothing but gratitude for an industry that had once discarded her, only to welcome her back with cautious, conditional arms. She had it all—the career resurgence, the compelling performance in The Substance, the overdue narrative, the industry respect—but when the name in the envelope wasn’t hers but Mikey Madison’s, the shock on her face was unmistakable.

Of course, she recovered quickly. Years in Hollywood teach you how to mask disappointment in real time. As Mikey took the stage, Demi smiled, clapped, and upheld the sacred Oscars tradition: when your competitor wins, you must look genuinely thrilled about it. It’s a rule as old as the Academy itself. But you didn’t need to be an expert in microexpressions to see that her heart wasn’t in it.

And why would it be? This was supposed to be her moment！Hollywood loves a comeback, and Demi’s had all the right ingredients—a daring role, a Cannes win, the narrative of resilience. She was a 62-year-old woman defying an industry that discards actresses the moment they show signs of aging. She had survived the humiliation of tabloid culture, the mockery of her box office flops, the erasure of a career that should have gone differently. And she had come back swinging.

But Hollywood also loves a fresh young thing, and Mikey Madison , at 25, represented the opposite of everything Demi had fought against. A newcomer, a first-time leading lady, a talent the industry could mold from scratch. That’s the cruel twist—Demi lost to someone who hadn’t even had the time to be broken down yet. And at 62, it’s unlikely she’ll get another shot. This was her turn, and the Academy decided to skip her in line.

Let’s be clear: Mikey’s win wasn’t undeserved. She delivered a phenomenal performance. But this isn’t about Mikey. This is about how Demi Moore, a woman who had been through Hollywood’s meat grinder and come out the other side, was once again told, “Not yet. Maybe never.” And the worst part? She couldn’t even show that it hurt.

Women in Hollywood—especially women over 50—aren’t allowed to be openly angry. If they are, they’re called bitter, difficult, ungrateful. If they play along, they’re patronizingly praised for their grace, even as they’re quietly pushed aside. Men can lose an Oscar and joke about how they’ll be back next year. Women have to act like losing is just as good as winning. But it’s not.

So I hope, in some quiet moment, when the cameras are gone and the last champagne flute has been cleared away, Demi allows herself to be mad. I hope she lets herself sit with the anger, the frustration, the injustice of it all. Because she deserves to be. And because, honestly? We would have been mad for her, too.