As memories of “winter’s bone” begin to fade with the end of February, the thoughts of trademark professionals begin to turn not to March Madness® or The Masters®, but to the 133rd annual INTA® meeting, being held this May in San Francisco.  Anyone wanting to preview the pageantry, sophistication, and elegance of INTA 2011 had only to watch the 83rd Academy Awards® ceremony broadcast on February 27, 2011, from the Kodak® Theater in Hollywood.  As I smugly relished the fact that INTA has been hosting annual meetings for half a century longer than the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ first ceremony, many questions came to mind.  In no particular order, I wondered:  Would James Franco and Anne Hathaway bomb, like Letterman and Jon Stewart before them?  Who would deliver the most embarrassing acceptance speech?  Would Robert Downey Jr. shave?  And would the producers, keen on attracting a “younger demographic,” hold true to their stated aim?  The last question was answered in short order with a resounding “no” when Kirk Douglas—the legendary star of Spartacus and Cast a Giant Shadow, and one of the last survivors of Hollywood’s Golden Era—hobbled out to announce the nominees and winner of the award for Best Supporting Actress.  That awkward moment led to the night’s most embarrassing speech—an “F-bomb”-laced ramble by the clearly stunned Melissa Leo (best known for her TV roles on Homicide: Life on the Street and Treme), who won for her tour de force depiction of Marky Mark’s manipulative mother in The Fighter.  As the evening dragged on, James Franco grew less than endearing, while the smiling and singing Anne Hathaway gamely soldiered through the tedious night.  Not even a surprise appearance by beloved former host Billy Crystal could salvage the affair, particularly for those, like me, who had dozed off around the time writer Aaron Sorkin challenged everyone’s attention span by seemingly thanking everyone he’s ever met while accepting the award for Best Adapted Screenplay.  Sorkin displayed none of the crisp, crackling dialogue that became his trademark as creator of The West Wing and as the screenwriter for The Social Network. 

When I awoke to see Colin Firth honored for his stirring performance of stuttering King George VI in The King’s Speech, I was struck by an existential trademark question.  How did the golden art-deco statuette get the name Oscar®?  Unlike the EMMY®, whose name is a twist on “IMMY” (a shorthand for an early type of TV camera), Oscar is not derived from anything related to motion-picture history or technology.  Nor, like the TONY®, honoring excellence on Broadway and named for theater legend Antoinette Perry, is OSCAR taken from the name of someone associated with the movie industry.  Rather, like the plot of Best Picture nominee Inception, the story is murky.  According to one account, Bette Davis named the Oscar after her first husband, band leader Harmon Oscar Nelson.  Another story claims that when the Academy’s first Executive Secretary saw the now-iconic statuette for the first time, it reminded her of her “Uncle Oscar.”  Whatever its source, the name Oscar soon stuck.  And just six years after that first awards ceremony at the Roosevelt, the Academy officially dubbed the trophy Oscar.  Now, by the Academy’s own estimation, the Oscar® is among the most respected and sought-after prizes bestowed anywhere.  And befitting such a distinguished award, it not only is a federally registered trademark, but it also has its own trademark entourage in the form of a series of usage “Regulations,” set forth at www.oscars.org/legal/regulations.  Among these, of course, is the requirement that “[a]ny use of the marks ‘OSCAR®,’ ‘OSCARS®,’ ‘ACADEMY AWARD®,’ ‘ACADEMY AWARDS®,’ ‘OSCAR NIGHT®,’ ‘A.M.P.A.S.®’ and the ‘Oscar’ design mark must include notice of trademark and service mark registration and credit the Academy as the owner of said marks (“®”) . . . .” 

As the new Oscar® winners savor their awards and the losers recover from their hangovers, we can look forward to San Francisco in May secure in the knowledge that anything INTA may lack in terms of glitz and star power will be made up for by the charm, sophistication, and savvy of the international trademark bar.  And if Oscar® has become one of the most recognized and valuable symbols in the world, we know that it’s due not only to blockbusters like The Social Network, but also to the “true grit” of our group of trademark avatars who make sure that the world knows that there are two “Rs” in Oscar®.