We have pizza. We have champagne. In fact, we have too much champagne. The night is young. The show has just begun. The AmEx ad is very confusing to me.
2028: Andre Leon Tulley is quite fat.
2030: Clips of normal people. How cool the techies are. Peter O’Toole has not aged well. Is it too late to replace the Veuve with orange juice? Everyone agrees there is too much fat in OJ so we let it be. We are having Baked Lays.
2035: Someone congratulates all of the nominees. Ellen appears and starts babbling. Some find this funny. Abigail Breslin is so cute. Mr. Will Smith’s smug child has many names.
2040: Ellen is wearing a wine red crushed velvet tux. She looks like a magician. From the 70s. I see Chicago’s Jennifer Hudson. The viewing crowd whoops it up. Nobody actually knows her but we pretend to care. She has ditched the hideous metallic envelope she arrived in. In other news, Peter O’Toole is still alive. Ellen talks about blacks, gays and Jews. For clarity, the camera pans to blacks, gays and, oh please, Jews. They could just have shown Whoopi Goldberg. Meanwhile, Ellen cannot believe she is hosting the Oscars. We cannot believe this either. Bye bye Ellen. She tells people to make things up. Somebody throws Ellen a tamborine. Ellen camera drives to a very bloated Mr. Di Caprio. I like the Jennifer Hudson/AI and Al Gore/Election joke.
2047: Pan’s Labyrinth wins. I have not even seen this film and it looks quite odd. Mutually gorgeous people Daniel Craig and Nicole Kidman (with a very tight face and a giant alive red creature that has started eating her left shoulder) are presenting for something. We wish Mister Craig wore that blue swimsuit.
2048: Ms. Maggie Gyllenhaal looks faux excited to announce the techie awards. For the brumagic densitometer. Are they allowed to make up words? Must. Google. This.
2055: Will Ferrell is singing. With Joe Black and Mister Cellophane. Ill advised. They threaten Mr. O’Toole. Who is still alive.
2103: That Sunshine kid and the Happyness kid present awards. The winners are very happy. An award goes to a movie about falafel singers. I need to have a falafel before I return home. There are no good falafels in the Bay. Mr. Ari Sandel is hot, the viewing crowd agrees that he must be gay. Or does not know it yet.
2104: Ellens says Ms. Penelope Cruz was from Mexico. She is Spanish. Ooh, tacos will fly.
2108: Many chips and dips are arriving. I am a little sleepy. There is a weird sound effects choir. After 5 seconds, it is boring. Maybe I have ADHD.
2110: Ellen apologizes to the countries of Mexico and Spain. We should send her to the Middle East. Preferably immediately. Ellen is nervous.
2112: I have still no clue how to tell sound mixing from sound editing. Various people in the room indicate the red salsa dip is better than the salsa verde. These are leftovers from last night. Nobody has a clue about the sound mixing/editing thing either.
2118: Every time they say “dream” or “girls”, they cut to Jennifer Hudson. The viewing crowd is practically whooping it up. Maybe we should make it a drinking game. In Chicago, we need very little excuse for a drinking game, cf. the Melrose Place Drinking Game that I devised in Powerpoint circa early 90s. The shame.
2119: James McAvoy and his Scotch accent, and Jessica Biel and her pink lip stick, all announce some award for Dream Girls. More drinking ensues. We are in a stupor. And tremendously bored.
2125: Rachel Weisz is still fetching. Why Alan Arkin won is a mystery – his character was rude and had very colorful language. There was very little sunshiny about the role for me. Penguins by the shadow people. Okay, cute. Ellen is joking with Marky Mark. I don’t care if he is nominated, he is still Marky Mark in those Calvins for me.
2135: Nobody is caring about the dancers making shapes of things. Nobody is caring about Rangy Newman. Nobody is caring about Melissa Etheridge’s PSA song. This is good to go pee. More champagne has miraculously appeared. Now there are little nibbly bits. Some latecomers have brought in yummy hummus and pita chips.
2140: Has Mr. Gore been expanding as we speak? Mr. Di Caprio is also bloating up. It is all very Titanic I guess. I am feeling guilty about all the food we will not be using as Hollywood tells us how green their valley is. Faux announcement drowned out by music but the piece dragged on for too long.
2144: Happy Feet won for animation. I just saw it in flight and I did not care for it. What were my choices? Oh yes, Cars. Not so much.
2145: Ms Cameron Diaz does not act ditsy. She clearly is and her outfit places her at high aerodynamic risk for being swept away. Mr. Ben Affleck is alive.
2152: Ms Helen Mirren announces the entire Borat title. We inexplicably crack up. I have to see this film with B & S because I just know the DVD will be packed with extras.
2155: The Departed wins for Adapted Screenplay. How I hated the adaptation. Basically, it’s plagiarism. Geographical error alert: “Infernal Affairs” is said to be from China. It is not, it is from Hong Kong, which is an SAR. Picky picky. Mr. Jack Nicholson – and we thought they would ignore him all night. But he is bald so how could they? Such an attention whore.
2204: Marie Antoinette – I have not seen so many nominated films. It is just that Ms. Kirsten Dunst has such awkward teeth. Geographical error alert: Cate Blanchett is announced to be from the UK. She’s Ozzie.
2210: We love Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt, plus Ms. Meryl Streep does a good fauc icy glare. Mr. Tom Cruise invokes a skeleton. L wonders how much BoTox she has had. L administers BoTox for cash so he should know. Maybe she actually has a BoTox for Food exchange program.
2210: Ms Gwyneth Paltrow looks limpid. Ellen has a funny bit. I almost forgot she was hosting.
2230: Mr. Robert Downey Jr makes a drug joke about himself. I have fallen asleep intermittently. Apparently, I missed when Ms Jennifer Hudson won her award. Great, I have to make jokes about her at tomorrow’s presentation. I will have to raid the generic joke box. I am counting on her having thanked God and her grandmother. Wouldn’t those be the usual? Unless her grandmother abused her. Just saying. [Addendum: I am informed she thanked God twice. Yay me]
2246: Al Gore wins and everyone is sucking up to him. He has in the interval put on some more pounds. What are they feeding them in the stands? Meanwhile, M texts me that Al Gore’s 20 room 8 bathroom mansion in the posh Belle Meade area in Nashville consumes more electricity every month (221,000 kWh per year) than the average American household (10,656 kWh) in an entire year, as per the Nashville Electric Service. I want to see his gas bill, which must be outrageous. And we’re back to reality. Or Hollywood. It is a blur. I think I drank two bottles of bubbly on my own so it is time to fill the recycling bin.
2250: Mr. Gael Garcia Bernal is onstage with sticky hair. Suddenly the movie about AIDS in China wins. This is the year of the Pig so there will be a record number of babies in hospitals in China. One of my gays informs me that if you are gay, you cannot adopt a Chinese baby this year. How do they know you’re gay in China. Do they ask you “What do you think of Jennifer Hudson?” and then if you gasp and go “OMG, I totally like love Jennifer Hudson” then you don’t get your Chinese baby? I don’t know. I also do not know why Mr. Jerry Seinfeld is presenting an award. He is so ten minutes ago and I just do not find him funny.
2250: Mr. Clint Eastwood presents Mr. Ennio Morricone with the lifetime achievement award. This usually means, said awardee’s wife needs to open a policy pronto. OMG it is that bitch Celine Dion. Why is she here and what is she saying in her quasi French warble tones? Sing Titanic, bitch. Ennio is now speaking Italian. Forever. Mr. Eastwood is totally making things up. I can tell. Oh, and Mr. Quincy Jones raided Zhang Ziyi’s garage sale last weekend. There can be no other explanation.
2311: The new president of AMPAS tells us all in sixty seconds. I kind of liked that part. Then the Sunshine film wins an award. Suddenly, I think I might be a bit drunk and head to brew some Double Egert’s coffee.
2320: Hugh Jackman not so attractive any more. I last saw him in Scoop on an airplane, apparently the only place to see such a lame film. Babel won some award. It is on my Netflix queue. Those magic dancing shadow people are still doing stuff and they just made a shoe. People are leaving the party. We are not having too much fun this year.
2332: Somebody fixed JLo’s hair. Ms. Beyonce emerges from the stage (literally) and belts one out. Dream girls medley. Ms. Jennifer Hudson (having been introduced as Oscar winner, I am now sure I fell asleep during one segment – someone says I was snoring even) has put on a few pounds since we started. Someone brings out the cheese course and little chocolate truffles. A very toxic looking Mr. John Travolta gives Ms. Etheridge her award. The room is making gratuitous lezzie jokes. That is okay because the room is 90% gay.
2335: Mr. Will Smith introduces a random Micahel Mann clip job. I have no idea what this is supposed to signify. Everyone rushes to the toilet.
2350: Ms. Kate Winslet is lovely. She won’t win anything but I did run into her outside a lovely bookshop near Marble Arch. And she was lovely then as well. Mr. Jack Nicholson is mugging for the camera. Why do they show him always? It is so predictable. We think he is bald in support of Britney Spears but nobody knows. Ms. Jodie Foster introduces the Dead People Clip Show. Robert Altman got the longest applause. They forgot fat Chris Penn.
0002: Mr. Philip Seymour Hoffman needs a comb. There is a picture of Dame Judi Dench drowning in a sea of turquoise. Of course, Ms. Helen Mirren wins. She is onstage with a purse that fits Oscars and small pets. She makes no sense whatsoever and calls the Oscar the Queen. Perhaps she is a bit sloshed. I think she is a smug thing. Chris Connelly is talking. Still. He asks who will win stuff as a disembodied hand dusts an Oscar groin. W wonder if the truffles are spiked. It is quite odd. Mr. Tom Hanks pretends to still be funny. He has lost the weird hair. Ellen is vacuuming the front row. She had a good bit with Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Eastwood then apparently snuck away for some Pinkberry.
0013: Ms. Witherspoon gives Mr. Whitaker an award. What is with his left eye? I think Bell’s palsy but I am really not so sure. Mr. Will Smith is crying. I like how they always pan to black people when someone black wins. We see voiceover woman and announcer man. I much better like Movie Trailer man’s voice. People are leaving the party. It is quite the flop. Of course, it is snowing without and everyone has real jobs. I microwave the stuffed spinach pizza but the mood is all wrong by now.
0020: Mr. Jack Nicholson comes on stage. I immediately take my toilet break. I do not need to see this man. Ellen says good night. I say good night. They are showing recap clips of Jack Black. That was six days ago. I have to get up early in the morning and teach people. This is stupid.