Sunday night, Hollywood celebrated how better things were yesterday. They hired a former host to lord over previous winners who honored mainly old and unknown people who created films about their grandparents' childhoods. Hard to tell if that huge sucking sound was the absence of youth in the Kodak Theater or Tom Cruise, holding a straw to the souls of every audience member, replenishing his life force like the Vorvon on Buck Rogers. You all know that Tom Cruise is really 94 years old, right?
After last year's pants-fillingly poor hosting duet, what the telecast needed was A Few Good Mensch. Or just one. What Billy Crystal is to the Oscars, James Franco is to pot. An old, reliable ally. After thanking Michael Keaton for lending him his Pacific Heights hairpiece, Crystal flew into the Kodak Theater in an FX extravaganza shot on an HD P2 card, not celluloid. Suck it, Kodak. Actually, out of the 84 jokes Crystal lobbed at the destitute camera and film company tonight, that's the one thing he didn't say. Seeing the nine-time Oscars host back in the saddle (please GOD, no City Slickers 3 because of that last word) was like seeing your old roommate pop up on Facebook. Great to share some laughs and greater that to see he's more bloated and corpulent than you are.
But enough one-armed pushups. On to the show itself.
Gwyneth Paltrow - right on "ssshedule". Sweetheart, drop the UK shit. Tom Hanks needs to shout at her in his best Woody voice, "You--are--an AMERICAN!" She's like one of those former classmates you see at Christmas break after one term at Texas A&M sounding like J.R. Ewing. Do you think Gwyneth and Madonna have 4pm tea together and try to out-Brit the other? "Ohhh bullocks, I left my kid's nappies in the boot of the bumper," as their servants gag themselves on their fingers and piss into their cups when they're not looking.
Emma Stone, meet Ben Stiller. Ben Stiller, meet Emma Stone's kneecaps. Is Emma really a stilt-walker, or was Stiller outed tonight as Billy Barty's grandson?
Ludovic Bource, the Frenchman who won for The Artist’s score “has no formal training in composition.” That’s just what the other four accomplished composers want to hear in the auditorium after they lost to the guy. Why not add, "and he composed the film's music on his son's Leapster after a six-pack of Miller Lite while watching Pawn Stars."
Sorry, Cameron Diaz fans. The hot chick from The Mask now looks like one of the Joker's Smylex gas victims from Batman.
"If I had them, I'd lick them." Hey Billy, Tilda Swinton called. She wants her bumper sticker back.
We all wanted Gary Oldman to win Best Actor. Not because he deserved it, but because it would be awesome if he got up and said, "I want to thank everyone." (Everyone, Gary?) "EVVVERRYYYONNE!!!"
Glenn Close has inherited Nick Nolte’s Burt Reynolds I-Can’t-Believe-I-Got-Fucked-Out-of-An Oscar crown. There really is nothing more pure to witness in life
than an actress's forced smile after losing to her rival more times
than Shaq choked at the foul line.
Speaking of Nolte, it was obvious the thought in his head as he lost was, "Three
Pink’s chili dogs and a four beers probably wasn't the
smartest thing to force down prior to taking my seat. That's ... gonna stain.”
Congratulations, Monsieur Dejardin for your Best Actor win.
Somewhere in Italy, Roberto Benini is humping a couch in your honor.
