I'm All About the Oscars

Okay, I'm not all about the Oscars. My cinematic choices usually stray closer to Will Ferrell and the Farrelly Brothers, rather than the Oscar nominated types. I think Sideways and Ray were the only two majorly nominated films that I have seen. I usually get around to watching them on DVD (unless they are big downers. There's no call for watching a movie that makes you feel awful.) But the Oscars is like a circus with really pretty clowns. Always something to see, and always good for a laugh. Here are a few observations from this year's Oscar hype-athon.

• Cheers to Chris Rock for being himself.
• What's it like to cheer with your arms outstretched because your new bazongas (is that what they call them? or are they gazongas?) are so enormous that you have to reach around them to clap?
• Why doesn't Robin Williams just free-associate into a camera for a half-hour each week and sell it to a network? Wouldn't that be 200 times better than 2 1/2 Men?
• If you wear a dress that hobbles you about the knees so that you are required to walk as though you are wearing prison shackles around your ankles, you should be required to wear a Miss America-type sash that says, "I forgot to try walking before choosing this dress." Or maybe, "Help! I'm being held captive in this dress by fashion terrorists!"
• The best acceptance speech was from Andrea Arnold, the maker of the short live action film Wasp, who likened the award, fondly enough, as they say in the old country, to "the dog's bollocks."
• I try not to do much "best-dressed/worst-dressed" business, but what was with Laura Linney's hair? It seemed very sharp, and not the snazzy sort of sharp, but the paper-cut danger sort of sharp.
• My role model for aging gracefully is Annette Bening (how many "n"s in that?).
• The Aviator garnered quite a few awards tonight. A bunch of firefighters I know screened this movie recently. They didn't like it, which is probably as reliable an endorsement as the awards it won.
• It's nice (well, expeditious) that this year they assembled the nominees for the less glamorous awards on stage, or at a mike set up in the audience, to save us the time consuming walking-to-the-stage business of the less gorgeous winners, but isn't it kind of dismissive to pick only these types of awards to treat like this? Although I'm sure they know who they are, and we know who they are, shouldn't we at least try to treat them as if they were as important as the cute ones?
• I hate to agree with People Magazine on anything, but Johnny Dep is, as Derrick Zoolander would say, really, really, incredibly good looking. He acts good too.
• Beyonce can make a really lame song sound good. (Of course, she's had a lot of experience at it.) I suppose that's why they needed to bring her out so many times tonight.
• It's a good thing Prince keeps that moustache. Otherwise he would be continually mistaken for a pretty woman.
• Why did Jorge Drexler have to re-sing his Oscar-winning song as an acceptance speech? Did he think that Antonio Banderas butchered it so badly that it needed a quick fix? Or was it just a good idea when you have to accept an award in a foreign language?
• Charlie Kaufman's acceptance speech (for co-screenwriting Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) was satisfyingly Kaufmanesque.
• If I could switch bodies with anyone, it would be Salma Hayak. Unfortunately, I doubt if she would want mine in return.
• Speaking of bodies past their prime, it seems that Barbra Streisand has grown such a large decolletage, she must wear a necklace with enough metal in it to make a set of chain mail. Ooh, I feel bad about being so shallow and snarky. But I'm not deleting it.
• Jamie Foxx was, as well as the sentimental favorite, the right choice.

On that note, I must get out of this uncomfortable chair, curl up with a good book, de-hype, and try to remember what's important. Happy Oscar Night. See you tomorow in the real world.