The reviews of last night’s Academy Awards are in, and thus far James Franco is receiving a rousing thumbs down for a lackluster performance as co-host. It began on a high note – a clever pre-filmed opening of James and co-host Anne Hathaway interacting within well-produced sequences of scenes from each of the nominated Best Pictures. Nice work from all involved.
As the evening went on, however, Anne was left to do the heavy-lifting as James appeared to mentally check out, preferring to tweet rather than greet. Aside from that portion of Hollywood’s Biggest Night, I came away with a genuine, positive impression of Anne Hathaway’s talents, freshness - not to ignore how she rocked every gown she wore throughout the event…beginning with her Red Carpet from-the-Valentino-archives reddish-burgundy gown that, in my opinion, was the sharpest of them all.
A fairly sophisticated group of film devotee’s mingling with industry veterans at the party where I spent Oscar night were also pleasantly impressed with the show on a visual level, as well as Hathaway’s gowns and energy. Also of note is that in this mildly jaded crowd, no one complained for a change on the always lengthy pace of the show. The producers knew how to provide the audience with a grand distraction with that sweepingly gorgeous set. In fact, my only complaint re: the beautiful visual element is that we were so enthralled as to comment on it quite often, making it difficult to hear what was being said on the show.
Beyond the fashion and hosting critique (which I’ll leave to the pros to explore), I give the program’s set design an early Emmy.
When one shifts to the actual award winners, few, if any surprises, left anyone’s jaw dropping to the Kodak Theater’s floor. Firth, Portman, et al, came through with the heavy golden statue. No Annette Bening upset, no Geoffrey Rush topple of Christian Bale for Best Supporting Actor, either. Too bad, as Christian has some explaining to do when he gave his acceptance speech, turned to his wife in the audience to thank, and then promptly forgot her name.
Although it would be decent to ignore the obvious worst moment of the evening, it would be remiss of me not to go there: the general consensus on Kirk Douglas’ sad and seemingly never-ending ramblings. It’s not PC to talk about a stroke victim, nor was it easy to watch Mr. Douglas’ delight in being on a stage again although discomfort at his staying “too long at the fair” moment was palpable in the theater as well as in homes across the country.
What I’ve been hearing is that viewers in his age group were hit with a sopping wet scratchy washcloth during his presentation of the Best Supporting Actress award. What a rude and scary vision it must be to see one of the former “hunks” of your era so dramatically reflecting the decay of age and illness. Spartacus has become a Horror in the Wax Museum. ‘Tis sad but true.
And would someone please tell me why the choices for Best Song were the absolute pits of the night? Is that the best the film industry can do in providing a classic piece of music within their movies? I’m sure most of us could come up with something better humming in the shower while recuperating from a very bad head cold. Good grief! And don’t get me started on living through dear Gywenny Appalls-Through-and-Through’s country music moment. Randy Newman won by default for a ditty from Toy Story 3 - a tune he probably put together in a shower while recuperating from a very bad head cold. But what else could have won in that sorry lineup?
The greatest debacle of The Academy Awards (from my perspective) was not during the awards but E!’s pre-Red Carpet lets-fill-some-time fashion runway featuring little children modeling the “style” of celebrity children. Oh PUH-leeze! Isn’t it enough that TV shows, magazines and tabloids already focus too much on how Suri Cruise always looks as if she’s on her way to a debutante ball at the age of 4 in heels, lipstick, and the always-perfect accessory bag/purse?
Did E! have to play into the exploitation these children undergo by some of their parents’ questionable PR’ing of their offspring? Did we really need to see a slightly femmed-up version of Brad and Angelina’s daughter Shiloh in combat boots with the fashion police falling all over themselves to explain how Shiloh prefers to wear her brother’s clothing? Or a replica of Madonna’s daughter Lourdes’ prancing down the tiny studio runway in a basic quasi-loose “I’m on my way to meditate” ensemble of no particular interest? Ouch! Yawn. Bleck!
In summation, I must give Nicole Kidman a round of common sense applause when she left the Governor’s Ball with a large almost mannish-looking jacket covering her obviously freezing body. It’s been unusually chilly in Los Angeles, and last night was bitter cold for these here parts. Glad to see that someone intentionally placed comfort over glamour - for a change.
Awards season in “the Biz” is officially over until the fall. It’s time for everyone to get back to work or wait for their agents to call with new film offers – or not. A surprising truth about nominations and wins is that award recognition by one’s peers a great role offer does not always make.
When was the last time you saw Halle Berry in a good film? Or Charlize Theron? Or Forrest Whitaker – who is back on another TV series instead of a film in the category of The Last King of Scotland which gave him the Oscar for his brilliant portrayal of Ugandan’s evil dictator Idi Amin.
Ah, fickle is as fickle does….
It was a shitty show. Period.
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