Having little or no investment in most of the nominees this year (like most of America, I haven't seen most of the films), I could only judge the show as an entertainment unto itself. And oh, my God.
At first I thought, what fool decided to put all the "minor" awards first? Then they got to the "major" awards, and I was longing to see someone I'd never heard of thank people I'll never know.
Observation: All Melissa Etheridge songs sound alike. It is therefore inconceivable that anyone really likes them. So her victory was an even bigger "we're going to show the world we care" vote than the Dixie Chicks five wins at the Grammys.
At least their songs are good. As is this one, which comes to mind for no particular reason:
Getting my facts from a Benetton ad
Lookin' thru African eyes
Lit by the glare of an L.A. fire...
-David Bowie, "Black Tie/White Noise"
I don't know about you, but four hours of Hollywood slapping itself on the back is hard enough to watch when movies like Toy Story 2 are the nominees. When the nominated films are such that a bunch of actors (who, as a rule, shouldn't talk) feel encouraged to wax profound...oh, boy...easy, stomach. Don't turn over.
Let me just get one other thing out of the way. You're going to be seeing a lot of blog posts, etc, using the words "Marty" and "finally." While I wish Scorsese no ill will, I've always hated the insinuation that it was some sort of injustice, or he'd been "overlooked" before this because he hadn't won.
Anyone lucky enough to be making a living wage or better in Hollywood has no right to complain. About anything. Period. Ever.
On a related matter, to Jerry Seinfeld: It is not funny when a multi-millionaire complains to a room largely full of other multi-millionaires about being asked to think about someone else once in a while. Or when he whines about the cost of Junior Mints at the movies.
And I've accepted the fact that I'm never getting rid of Seinfeld as long as anyone else has a TV, but can Jack Black's 15 minutes pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease be over soon?
Moving on, I admit I was only rooting for Peter O'Toole because I wanted to hear the speech. He has little more right to complain than Scorcese did, but if he's disappointed, I hope he takes solace at least in the knowledge that he's Peter O'Toole...and his fellow nominees are not.
No, I can't believe I just referenced Chevy Chase in writing about Peter O'Toole either, but there it is.
And now for our first great-looking lady of the show tonight, Gwyneth Paltrow:
Oh, by the way, why I want to be Tom Hanks:
[Anne] Hathaway approached and asked him, "I don't know you, but can I hug you?"
Obviously that's Anne to the left. Below we have Naomi Watts...
...and Maggie Gyllenhaal.
A few words about Ellen DeGeneres' fashion sense. It's not like anyone was expecting her to wear a figure-clinging gown (like Jessica Biel, left). But can we agree that Jon Pertwee, 1973, is not a good model?
And finally, on behalf of all writers everywhere, I want to thank Best Original Screenplay winner Michael Arndt for prostrating himself at the feet of the cast and the directors of his film in his speech.
I could really feel your pride in and love for the written word there, Michael. All the respect you deserve backatcha.
No comments:
Post a Comment