Lupita Nyong'o, who won best supporting actress for her role in 12 Years a Slave. Photo: Getty
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Oscar winners 2014: the full list

12 Years a Slave takes best picture, and Gravity cleans up in the technical categories.

Best picture

12 Years a Slave
American Hustle
Captain Phillips
Dallas Buyers Club
Gravity
Her
Nebraska
Philomena
The Wolf of Wall Street

Best actor

Matthew McConaughey, Dallas Buyers Club
Christian Bale, American Hustle
Bruce Dern, Nebraska
Leonardo DiCaprio, The Wolf of Wall Street
Chiwetel Ejiofor, 12 Years a Slave

Best actress

Cate Blanchett, Blue Jasmine
Amy Adams, American Hustle
Sandra Bullock, Gravity
Judi Dench, Philomena
Meryl Streep, August: Osage County

Best supporting actor

Jared Leto, Dallas Buyers Club
Barkhad Abdi, Captain Phillips
Bradley Cooper, American Hustle
Michael Fassbender, 12 Years a Slave
Jonah Hill, The Wolf of Wall Street

Best supporting actress

Lupita Nyong’o, 12 Years a Slave
Sally Hawkins, Blue Jasmine
Jennifer Lawrence, American Hustle
Julia Roberts, August: Osage County
June Squibb, Nebraska

Best Director

Alfonso Cuaron, Gravity
David O Russell, American Hustle
Alexander Payne, Nebraska
Steve McQueen, 12 Years a Slave
Martin Scorsese, The Wolf of Wall Street

Best foreign language film

Omar, Palestine
The Broken Circle Breakdown, Belgium
The Great Beauty, Italy
The Hunt, Denmark
The Missing Picture, Cambodia

Best adapted screenplay

John Ridley, 12 Years a Slave
Richard Linklater, Julie Delpy, Ethan Hawke, Before Midnight
Billy Ray, Captain Phillips
Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope, Philomena
Terence Winter, The Wolf of Wall Street

Best original screenplay

Spike Jonze, Her
Eric Warren Singer and David O Russell, American Hustle
Woody Allen, Blue Jasmine
Craig Borten & Melisa Wallack, Dallas Buyers Club
Bob Nelson, Nebraska

Best animated feature film

Frozen
The Croods
Despicable Me 2
Ernest & Celestine
The Wind Rises

Best production design

The Great Gatsby
American Hustle
Gravity
Her
12 Years a Slave

Best cinematography

Gravity
The Grandmaster
Inside Llewyn Davis
Nebraska
Prisoners

Best sound mixing

Gravity
Captain Phillips
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
Inside Llewyn Davis
Lone Survivor

Best sound editing

Gravity
All Is Lost
Captain Phillips
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
Lone Survivor

Best original score

Gravity, Steven Price
The Book Thief, John Williams
Her, William Butler and Owen Pallett
Philomena, Alexandre Desplat;
Saving Mr Banks, Thomas Newman.

Best original song

“Let It Go” from Frozen, Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez
“Happy” from Despicable Me 2, Pharrell Williams
“The Moon Song” from Her, Karen O and Spike Jonze;
“Ordinary Love” from Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom, Paul Hewson, Dave Evans, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen.

Best costume

The Great Gatsby
American Hustle
The Grandmaster
The Invisible Woman
12 Years a Slave

Best documentary feature

20 Feet from Stardom
The Act of Killing
Cutie and the Boxer
Dirty Wars
The Square

Best documentary (short subject)

The Lady in Number 6
CaveDigger
Facing Fear
Karama Has No Walls
Prison Terminal: The Last Days of Private Jack Hall

Best film editing

Gravity
American Hustle
Captain Phillips
Dallas Buyers Club
12 Years a Slave

Best makeup and hairstyling

Dallas Buyers Club
Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa
The Lone Ranger

Animated short film

Mr Hublot
Feral
Get a Horse!
Possessions
Room on the Broom

Best live action short film

Helium
Aquel No Era Yo (That Wasn’t Me)
Avant Que De Tout Perdre (Just before Losing Everything)
Pitaako Mun Kaikki Hoitaa? (Do I Have to Take Care of Everything?)
The Voorman Problem

Best visual effects

Gravity
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
Iron Man 3
The Lone Ranger
Star Trek Into Darkness

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Edinburgh in the time of Harry Potter - growing up in a city that became famous for a book

At first, JK Rowling was considered a local author done good, rather than fiction’s future megastar. 

In an Edinburgh playground, circa 1998, I found myself excluded from one of the world’s first Harry Potter cliques. My best friend Sophie had a copy of a book with a title which seemed indecipherable to me, but she insisted it was so good she couldn’t possibly let me read it. Instead, she and the other owner of a book huddled together in corners of our concrete, high-walled playground. I was not invited.

Exclusion worked. Somehow I procured a copy of this book, rather sceptically read the praise on the cover, and spent the next day avoiding all company in order to finish it. After my initiation into the small-but-growing clique, I read the second book, still in hardback.

Edinburgh at that time was something of a backwater. Although it still had the same atmospheric skyline, with the castle dominating the city, the Scottish Parliament was yet to open, and the Scottish banks were still hatching their global domination plans. The most famous author of the moment was Irvine Welsh, whose book Trainspotting chronicled a heroin epidemic.

In this city, JK Rowling was still considered to be a local author done good, rather than fiction’s future megastar. She gave talks in the Edinburgh Book Festival, a string of tents in the posh West End Charlotte Square. By the time I saw her (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, hardback edition, 1999), she had graduated from the tepee to the big tent reserved for authors like Jacqueline Wilson and Michael Rosen. At the end we queued up for the book signing, and she told me she liked my purple dungarees.

At that time, there were no films, and what the characters should look and sound like was a constant playground debate. Another member of the Harry Potter clique I spoke to, Sally*, remembers how excited she was that “she did the same voice for Hagrid that my mum did when she was reading it to me”.

About the same time, a rumour spread around school so incredible it took a while to establish it was true. JK Rowling was moving to the street where some of our Harry Potter clique lived. We started taking detours for the privilege of scurrying past the grand Victorian house on the corner, with its mail box and security keypad. The mail box in particular became a focus of our imagination. Sophie and I laboured away on a Harry Potter board game which – we fervently believed – would one day be ready to post.

Gradually, though, it was not just ten-year-olds peeping through the gate. The adults had read Harry Potter by now. Journalists were caught raking through the bins.

Sally recalls the change. “It was exciting [after she first moved in], but as it was just after the first book it wasn’t as much of a big deal as it soon became,” she recalls. “Then it just felt a little bizarre that people would go on tours to try and get a glimpse of her house.

“It just felt like an ordinary area of town with ordinary people and it made me realise the price that comes with fame.”

Edinburgh, too, began to change. As teenagers (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, 2003) we liked to gather at the Elephant House cafe, on the bohemian George IV Bridge. We knew it was one of the cafes JK Rowling had written in, but we also liked its round wooden tables, and its bagels, and the fact you got one of the hundreds of miniature elephants that decorated the café if your bagel was late. It became harder and harder to get a seat.

We scoffed at the tourists. Still, we were proud that Harry Potter had put our city on the map. “As I grew older, it was fun to think of her writing the books in local cafes and just being an ordinary person living in Edinburgh with a great imagination,” Sally says. As for me, it was my trump card during long summers spent with bored Canadian teenagers, who had not heard and did not care about anything else relating to my teenage life in Scotland.

The last in the series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, was published in July 2007, a month after I left high school. Not long after that, I left Edinburgh as well. The financial crash the following year stunned the city, and exiled graduates like me. I fell out the habit of reading fiction for fun. JK Rowling moved to a house on the outskirts of Edinburgh, ringed by 50 foot hedges. The Scottish independence referendum divided my friends and family. On Twitter, Rowling, firmly pro-union, was a target for cybernats.

Then, two years ago, I discovered there is another Harry Potter city – Porto. As in Edinburgh, medieval passageways wind past stacked old houses, and the sea is never far away. JK Rowling lived here between 1991 and 1993, during her short-lived marriage, and drafted the first three chapters of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. In the university district, students wear black, ragged gowns, and the fantastical wooden carvings of the Livraria Lello bookshop is tipped to be the inspiration for some of the aesthetic Rowling applies to the books.

I don’t know whether it did or not. But it made me realise that no city can possess an author, and not only because she could afford to any part of the globe at whim. Standing in the bookshop and watching the students drift by, I could imagine myself in some corner of the Harry Potter world. And simultaneously, perhaps, some tourists queueing for a table at the Elephant House were doing the same.

*Name has been changed

Now read the other articles included in the New Statesman’s Harry Potter Week.

Julia Rampen is the digital news editor of the New Statesman (previously editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog). She has also been deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines. 

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