After bragging to everyone how uninterested I was in them this year, I watched the Academy Awards last night. I rushed home after a perfectly lovely classical music concert, plopped myself down in front of the tv, and basked in the blinding glow of Hollywood self-congratulation.
Just like a morning when I vow to forego coffee and find myself at Starbucks by 10:30 am in line with other caffeine zombies, I try to give up the Oscars, and it draws me back like a bad addiction. I suppose the Oscars is not all together unhealthy, but it is over three hours of my life I'll never get back. I won't bother to add up that total from over the years.
At least, it is fodder for blogger.
Here's what I hated:
Amy Adams singing.
The musical numbers at the Academy Awards rarely work. They are condensed, awkward, and often accompanied by weird dancing. Amy Adams, however, should not have been allowed to perform a song from Enchanted. I don't care if she was the star of the movie; obviously they edited her singing to make it work in the movie. A live performance should be left to a professional. Like Kristen Chenowith. She sang that other song, and it was fine. Annoying, but fine. At least she can sing. Poor Amy: it was obvious that she has a limited voice, almost no range, and, judging from her overdone gestures and awkward stance, little live singing experience. They couldn't even help her out with a costume, additional characters, and some kind of scene? For Pete's sake; it was cringe worthy.
Katherine Heigl: "Forgive me, I'm terribly nervous..." or whatever it was she said. And it wasn't a set up for a joke. Lady, you're reading from a teleprompter, not accepting an Oscar. Get over it.
Nicole Kidman's necklace. She looked like she got drunk, giddy, and dumped her jewelry box over her head. Maybe she was reenacting her Moulin Rouge role?
Here's what I liked:
How genuinely shocked Tilda Swinton was when her name was called. Tilda, with the funny name and the Joan of Arc hair and the make-up-free face.
When "Falling Slowly" won best song. It's a simple, repetitive song, but it's charming, catchy, and soulful. And they, too, were shocked. And I thought it was decent of Jon Stewart to bring Marketa Irglova back on stage to finish her acceptance speech, which was also charming.
How well Javier Bardem cleans up. He's like a Spanish Hugh Jackman, no? Ay, que rico!
Here's where I'm not sure:
Jon Stewart did an adequate job, I thought, but I wasn't sure what to make of his pregnant lady jokes. Not sure the pregnant ladies knew how to react, either. "Jack's here, there could be more pregnant women before the night is out." Ew.
Is it in the contract that the host must give at least three shout-outs to Jack Nicholson at the Oscars?
