Pulp Lizard

    Studio execs were hoping that the nettlesome writer’s strike wouldn’t spill onto the red carpet event.  But this was the time for writers to send their FUs to the big bad corporate bosses by showing them how truly valuable they are.  Did the stars sparkle?  Did the jokes make us laugh?  Did Jennifer Hudson look a little squeezed in that dress?  Yes, yes and oh, hell-to-the yes!

But even though everything seemed to be in place, the show was, eh, in my opinion, not the big comeback I was hoping for.

Maybe my expectations were too high, but I did hear on the radio this morning that the 80^th Annual Oscar show had the lowest ratings ever.  Now if I were the ABC Czar, (who is that now, still the devil-in-Prada Michael Eisner?) I would have had started with a triple-old-school-threat like Crystal, Goldberg and Williams.  I would have had the big Hollywood stars reenact scenes from favorite past Best Picture winners.  And to really get the FCC sweating, I would have snuck in a Justin Timberlake number with dancing big booty girls and a helicopter with sirens and lights.

I’m not saying that the show was horrible.  I did like John Stewart.  His lissome humor was the comic relief Hollywood needed.  Finally, they could laugh at the nightmare that was the writer’s strike.  Sporting their Marchesa gowns and Dolce and Gabbana tuxedos, the overpaid actors sat back and indulged in self-importance and perdurable praise.  Ah, La Vie en Rose once again!

And now I’m going to use my blogger friend’s (Al) The Good, The Bad and The Ugly review format.

The Good

John Stewart, as I mentioned before, was funny with his zingers and added his brand of political humor.

“The fight is over. So tonight, welcome to the makeup sex.”

“Democrats do have an historic race going. Hillary Clinton vs Barack Obama. Normally, when you see a black man or a woman president an asteroid is about to hit the Statue of Liberty. How will we know it’s the future? Silver unitards, that can’t be all?” ” Even Norbit got a nomination, which I think is great.  Too often, the academy ignores movies that aren’t good.” 

Another highlight for me was Diablo Cody (freakin sweet name!) winning Best Original Screenplay for Juno.  The ex-stripper sauntered up to the stage to receive her little, bald, golden man.  That must have been more gratifying than [insert punch line here].  And let me tell you “home skillits” I love that movie! 

Next, Javier Bardem winning Best Supporting Actor for his creepy role in No Country for Old Men and his joke about the haircut.  Yeah, we know, you looked like Dora the Explorer.  But I’ve been waiting for this guy to get noticed for a while.  So don’t you gringos think you discovered him first!  I was enchanted with this dude when he was in a critically acclaimed movie Jamon, Jamon(he played El Chorizo). I’m wagging my finger at you! 

I also would like to add that John Stewart escorting winner for Best Original Song, Market Irglova, so she could finish her speech was not only gentlemanly of him, but the “feel good”  moment of the night.

Helen Mirren .

The Bad

Ellen Paige not winning in the Best Actress category.  It looks like now I have to watch La Mome.  Did anyone outside of France even see that movie? 

Atonement taking away only one award.   I guess that the whole “if they win the Golden Globes, they can’t win the Oscar” rule still applies.

Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill’s (Superbad) matching geek glasses and Jewfros, and they took it too far with the ongoing Hallie Berry joke. 

Rebecca Miller’s (wife of Best Actor Winner Daniel Day Lewis) gaud-awful dress.  It was just a bad use of left over Christmas tree bows. 

The Ugly

And speaking of gaud-awful dresses, why didn’t anyone send Jennifer Hudson the “you can’t wear white if you’re large”  or the “you can’t wear white after Labor Day” memos? She should have consulted Clay Aiken (gay) or Simon Cowell (diva) before she voted on that dress.  

In conclusion

I can go on and on but you already had to sit through the four hours of show.  So, like when the Cowboys lost their final game (and didn’t go to the Superbowl), I say, there is always next year.   

Oh, does anyone care that No Country for Old Men won Best Picture?