SOMEHOW, the Oscar survives, but the Glory That Was Hollywood keeps on receding into the past. Perhaps there really was excitement-in-the-air when the first Academy Awards were presented, but now, 42 ceremonies later, none of it remains. The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will probably continue going through the motions, but the excitement, alas, will never return.

The award ceremony is now-as Gregory Peck, President of the Academy, said-"a major news event," but largely because television considers it one. Perhaps there is some value in the Academy's "annual recognition of excellent achievement in the year past," but there is no need for the presentation ceremony to be public. If the Hollywood people themselves get a thrill out of their annual get-together, they would show more taste to keep this a private party.

For the viewer this year, the ceremony was something like a banquet in a Howard Johnson's. The decor was pleasant, the food we were served, rather tasteless. Bob Hope, "America's Ambassador of Laughter," was there, with his own bland brand of social satire. "It's such a novelty seeing actors and actresses with their clothes on" and "Up until a few months ago, I thought that The Sterile Cuckoo was the story of Tiny Tim" were two of his more biting lines.

There was some real humor in the show-Bert Bacharach, coming up stoned to get his second award and muttering, "Two of them? That's just too fantastic"-and even a little honest sentiment. John Wayne did seem sincerely moved to receive an Oscar at last. But the show as a whole consisted mostly of light and trivial chit-chat between the stars who were presenting the awards, followed by the announcement of the winners, who generally gave the expected and uninteresting "I'd like to thank all those who made this award possible" speech. (Making films involves a lot of teamwork, John Wayne explained.)

Fourteen stars participated in the presentation, among them Raquel Welch ("I'm here for visual effects, of which there are two"), John Wayne ("It's my real deep down pleasure to read the list of men nominated for excellence in cinematography"), and Elizabeth Taylor. Fred Astaire took part, too, and Cary Grant was there. The Academy gave him a special award, honoring him for his entire acting career, which they brilliantly memorialized by showing a collection of film clips from his movies-there he was, kissing, talking romantically to, and being slapped by what seemed like hundreds of different actresses. This nostalgic bit was probably the most effective part of the show.

The show's producers tried to give the show some topicality, too, by asking a number of famous directors to make some comment on "the new freedom of the film" and showing films of their interviews. Unfortunately, since the Oscar is a remnant of the past, it can't really be made very topical.

In general, the most important awards were given to films of quality. "Midnight Cowboy" won the Best Picture and Best Direction awards and "Z" won the Best Foreign Film award. Yet a number of considerably less important films kept receiving mention on the show. "Anne of a Thousand Days" and "Hello, Dolly" received ten and seven award nominations, respectively.

"The fact that [these films received so many nominations] many have more to do with beef Stroganoff and imported champagne and three-inch thick prime ribs than with anything in the nature of Academics," an article in the New York Times said a week ago. The gist of the article was that there is a direct correlation between the amount of promotion within the Academy that a film gets and the number of nominations it receives.

Even if the less deserving films do not receive awards-and "Anne" and "Hello, Dolly" did not receive any-their numerous nominations bring them a disproportionate amount of publicity. But then one can hardly expect balance from a publicity event, and the Academy Awards show is little more than that.