Oscars

If everything were right with the world, the Academy Awards show would have been as hokey and cringe-inspiring as usual. Instead, though it's still highly-paid people congratulating themselves for making money for themselves, last night's show didn't annoy me half as much as they normally do. Highly-contested war, strangely enough, is good for the Oscars.

Also, if everything were right with the world, I would have been at my friend C.'s Oscars party in Boston, stuffing myself on the world's best vegetable dumplings and fake-pork chops. sigh

I will now list things I feel like listing, completely out of order, even though you really don't care about my opinion of the things listed, or even the Oscars.

• Best acceptance speech: Adrian Brody. Even if he hadn't been so beautifully surprised (so were the rest of us, Mr. Brody) and beautifully articulate, he would have won this blog's best speech award simply for that celebratory yet overwhelming snogging of the ever-gorgeous Halle Berry. That was fabulous, darling.
  
  
• Best wit: Peter O'Toole. Why the hell didn't this man win an Oscar for Lawrence of Arabia? Well, at least they acknowledged his talent last night. Better late than never? Not sure. However, he was everything that is wit and grace. "As I totter into antiquity...." Everyone should be so lightly eloquent. Three cheers for Mr. Chips.
  
  
• Moment I cheered the hardest: Spirited Away winning Best Animated Feature. I was convinced they'd give it to a more widely-shown film, but they started off the show giving the award to the most deserving nominee in its category. Yay! Very good way to start the awards ceremony.
  
  
• Best surprise other than Brody: Eminem winning Best Song for "Lose Yourself." This was the first year in a long time I liked all of the nominees, but I really felt his song was the best. And, surprisingly enough, so did the Academy. Huzzah! (Homophobia and misogyny are evil things, but that was a good song, dammit.)
  
  
• Best win other than Spirited Away: Chicago for Best Film Editing. The editing made the performances what they were, especially Renée Zwelleger and the ever-annoying Richard Gere. Other than the professional dancers, the editing was the best performance in the film.
  
  
• Most totally predictable moment: Michael Moore's protest/speech. God, didn't they know he'd use that moment to piss off the conservatives/moderates? Haven't they seen his films? Sheesh. (Still, it made me laugh. Good old Moore.)
  
  
• Most ridiculous and therefore wonderful outfit: Sean Connery. It took major brass cojones to dress like that. I admired that. Giggled, but admired.
  
  
• Most ridiculous and therefore best hair: Pedro Almodóvar. Weird. Eccentric. Whatever. It's just totally him. I dug it. (Yes, I checked the spelling.)
  
  
• Moment I drooled the most: Damn, but Gael Garcia Bernal was hot. Wow. R-r-r-r-r! (Yes, I had to look up his name.)
  
  
• Sexiest bald head: Daniel Day-Lewis. R-r-r-r-r!
  
  
• Best eyes: Salma Hayek. Always serious, but the most increadible pair of eyes on the screen, male or female.
  
  
• Best boobs: Queen Latifah. Damn, man. That is one, big, queenly woman. I should be that bold.
  
  
• The Dear-God-I-Hope-I-Look-That-Good-When-I'm-That-Age award: Tie Susan Sarandon and Meryl Streep. One was sexy, the other was regal. Both were beautiful. I can only hope my genetic material allows me to look half as good when I'm their age.
  
  
• I might chop off a limb to look this good: Jennifer Garner. Sheesh. That's just totally unfair. (By the way, how freakin' lame was that Mickey bit she had to do? Oy.)
  
  
• Still butt-ugly: Hilary Swank. Ew.
  
  
• Coolest fat lady: As always, Kathy Bates.
  
  
• Coolest loser: Martin Scorsese. The man grinned as if his name had been announced, stood up and gave Roman Polanski (statutory rapist at large) a standing ovation. That, my friend, is class. (Bonus points to me for spelling either of those names correctly.)
  
  
• Two things which should have won but weren't even nominated, dammit: Best Makeup to The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers and Best Picture to Far From Heaven. I am pissed about both. Far From Heaven was as close to perfect a film as I've seen since Amélie and, dear lord, did you not see The Two Towers? That makeup kicked Frida's ass! Not to disparage the artistry of Frida, mind. But, seriously, what the hell was the Academy thinking?
  
  
• Person who should have won but wasn't even nominated, dammit: Best Actor In A Supporting Role to Dennis Quaid in Far From Heaven. In a film full of brilliant, spot-on performances, his shone the most. I am deeply pissed he was so utterly ignored. Grr!
  
  
• Best host: Steve Martin. I hope they bring him back again next year. I actually laughed at his jokes.

In all, I wasn't too pissed about this winners this year. Was Chicago really the best film released last year? No, it wasn't. But it sure as hell was enjoyable. I heartily recommend it to everyone. Anyone who can't enjoy themselves watching that movie... well, there may be something wrong with you, dear. You may want to have, ah, something checked. (Better coverage elsewhere: EW.com.)