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In his memoir, “Never Mind the Happy: Showbiz Stories from a Sore Winner” (published by Regalo Press), Tony- and Emmy-winning composer Marc Shaiman, known for Broadway hits like “Hairspray,” and music for “South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut,” writes of his half-century in show business.

Read the prologue below, in which he recounts preparing to perform on the Oscar stage with the idol of his youth, Bette Midler (an adoration that would grow into a collaboration), and don’t miss Tracy Smith’s interview with Marc Shaiman on “CBS Sunday Morning” March 1!

“Never Mind the Happy” by Marc Shaiman

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Prologue

It’s February 24, 2019, and I am on stage with Bette Midler at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles, moments away from performing at the 91st Annual Academy Awards. On the other side of the closed curtain are 3,400 of the most powerful and successful players in Hollywood—plus another thirty million people tuning into the television coverage worldwide. One such player in the auditorium is Scott Wittman, my lyrical collaborator of almost fifty years, with whom I co-wrote the Oscar-nominated song “The Place Where Lost Things Go”—the very song Bette and I are about to perform. It has only been two months since Disney released Mary Poppins Returns—which has garnered my sixth and seventh Oscar nominations— and even though I am calm as I sit at the keyboard of the polished black grand piano, I am also conscious of what a fight it has been to get here.

A few weeks earlier, on the morning the Oscar nominations were announced, my husband, Lou Mirabal, and I sat on the couch in our Manhattan loft, our golden retriever, Chops, no doubt wondering why we were glued to the television at 8:30 a.m. instead of making her breakfast. A similar scene was playing out with Scott and his partner, Brian, at their apartment just six blocks to the south. Mary Poppins Returns had been a hit film, if not the billion-dollar blowout the studio had hoped it would be. Scott and I were very proud of the songs we wrote for the sequel to Disney’s classic about a magical British nanny, but they had inevitably been compared to the unforgettable music from the original—so we didn’t know if we should get our hopes up on the morning of the nominations.

Luckily, Oscar smiled and we were nominated for our song “The Place Where Lost Things Go,” and I was also nominated for Best Score. We were all excited and relieved, perhaps nobody more than Lou, because he was the one who would have had to mop me off the floor if things had turned out differently.

I always say, though, that if showbiz puts you on a pedestal on Tuesday, it’s only to have a better shot at your balls on Thursday. And right on schedule, after two days of elation, the producers of that year’s Oscars telecast announced that of the five nominated songs, only two—one a duet by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper from A Star Is Born, the other by Kendrick Lamar and SZA from Black Panther—would be performed. Clearly, they wanted star power to boost the broadcast’s ratings and, by cutting three songs, perhaps also trim a few minutes from its running time. But to say the remaining songs were not worthy of inclusion sent a message both to the public—and worse, to the Oscar voters, who had yet to cast their ballots—that they were not considered equal. It really was a low blow.

What those Oscars producers didn’t anticipate, however, was just how much a dog with a bone I can be. First, I put together an appeal from the writers of the three orphaned songs (including my dear and foul-mouthed friend Diane Warren)—but that led to a dead end. Then, I went to Alan Horn, who was chairman of Walt Disney Studios at the time and who I knew from his years as Rob Reiner’s producing partner. Since Disney owns ABC, the television network that broadcasts the Oscars, I thought he would be able to pull some strings—but he gruffly said, “The ship has sailed, there’s nothing I can do.” Well, maybe there was nothing he could do, but I was not going to give up.

I had met Bradley Cooper a few times due to our shared friendship with the great actor Victor Garber. Bradley had been to the home I then shared with Scott, my romantic partner for nearly thirty years, when he and Victor were filming the TV show Alias, and he had always been very friendly whenever I ran into him at other showbiz functions. I had also just recently become pals with Kevin Feige, Supreme Intelligence of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In fact, it was at an Academy event just a few weeks earlier (where we had all been schmoozing for nominations) when someone tapped me on my shoulder and said, “Kevin Feige would like to meet you.”

“Kevin Feige would like to meet me?” I queried. I was in shock and couldn’t believe, of all nights, that my Marvel-nerd husband wasn’t with me. It turned out Kevin, who you would think is busy enough, also has time to be a serious film-score fanatic. And after enjoying a few minutes of him praising my work, I asked if we could take a selfie together so I could send it to Lou.

Not only are Bradley and Kevin two of the nicest guys in Hollywood, at that moment, being friendly with them was uniquely useful. After all, Bradley produced A Star Is Born and Kevin produced Black Panther—the two films whose Oscar-nominated songs had been anointed by the Academy to be performed. So, I reached out to them both to explain the situation, which they agreed was unfair, and each offered to do what they could to help.

I’m not privy to what happened next, but those two gentlemen clearly have their own superpowers, because only a day or so later, it was announced that all five songs would be performed. Thank you, Bradley, and thank you, Kevin—if you ever need a favor from someone less powerful, let me know.

And so, I made it onto the Oscars stage that year after all. Moments before our performance, through the curtain, I could hear the orchestra play a snatch of our movie theme, and then the crowd respond as Keegan-Michael Key was lowered from the ceiling of the Dolby Theatre clutching a Mary Poppins–style black umbrella.

“This evening’s next nominee for best original song was written by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman for the film Mary Poppins Returns,” he said. “In addition to lifting the Banks children’s spirits through a series of magical adventures, Mary Poppins offers comfort and compassion with this tender lullaby, underscoring the notion that a loved one who is lost can still be very much present. Performing ‘The Place Where Lost Things Go’ with Marc Shaiman on piano, please welcome the Divine Miss M.”

(Both Bette and I thought—but of course did not have time to discuss in the moment—What, he couldn’t say her name?)

Then the curtain lifted, Bette stepped into the spotlight as twenty-eight red umbrella lanterns descended against a stage backdrop of London’s foggy skyline, and I started accompanying my favorite performer in the world—on a song I had co-written with my cherished collaborator—from a musical about my most beloved literary character—at the Academy Awards.

How did I get there? Well, as an old-school piano player might say, it went a little something like this… 

        
From “Never Mind the Happy: Showbiz Stories from a Sore Winner” by Marc Shaiman. © 2026 by Marc Shaiman. Reprinted with permission from Regalo Press. All Rights Reserved.

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