History was made last night at the 82nd Annual Academy Awards in Hollywood. Not only did a woman finally win a Best Director Oscar, but also the telecast was co-hosted by two people for the first time ever, and Neil Patrick Harris wore a tuxedo that was so shiny, it could be seen from outer space.
NHP opened the evening with a serviceable but forgettable song and dance number celebrating the power of two: Crosby and Hope, Lewis and Martin, Botox and everyone in the audience. Co-hosts Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin were worked into the lyrics as the "biggest pair since Dolly Parton." Because nothing rhythms with "Baldwin."
Martin and Baldwin spent some time mocking the nominees – "Who doesn't love Sandra Bullock? We're going to find out." – and then threw it to Penelope Cruz, who kicked off the marathon that is the Oscars with the award for Best Supporting Actor. The winner was the heavily favored Christoph Waltz for his role as "the Jew Hunter" in Inglorious Basterds. You know you're good when a room full of Jews gives a trophy to a Nazi.
Some Brat Packers reunited to show off their crow's feet and pay tribute to the late, great John Hughes with a montage of some of his classics: Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Home Alone, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Pretty in Pink, Some Kind of Wonderful, to name a few.
When did Ferris Bueller turn into a podiatrist? I feel old.
If you think the documentary category was a good time to hit the bathroom and refill your wine glass, think again. A mouthy lady pull a Kanye on the Best Documentary Short winner, Music by Prudence.
The film's director got about three words into his acceptance speech when Elinor Burkett, a producer who was kicked off the production a year ago, appeared out of nowhere and blurted out, "The man never lets the woman talk. Isn't that just the classic thing?" and she was off to the races. Gah, I love live television.
Yeah, I know it was rude and wrong. But since Halle Berry had to accept Adrien Brody's lizard tongue down her throat, and Taylor Swift smiled gamely while jackassery was being heaped upon her in front of millions of people, I can live with a batshit crazy lady babbling about how a film starring a disabled girl from Africa deserves an award.
Meanwhile, famous fetuses Miley Cyrus, Zac Efron and Taylor Lautner sat in the audience, going through Twitter withdrawals and wondering, "Who is Lauren Bacall and why the hell is the KFC dude here?"
In other news, Best Adapted Screenplay went to Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire. I seriously want to meet Sapphire's agent. Anyone who can get their client's name and book title into the name of a film, where it has no place or reason, deserves an Oscar of their own.
Later, presenter Robin Williams managed to announce the award for Best Supporting Actress without making it all about himself or ad libbing a riff about the Oscar statue not wearing any pants. Recipient Mo'Nique joined Cher in the pantheon of Academy Award Winners with One Name. Meanwhile, Madonna was somewhere gnashing her 'cisors. Oh Evita, we still love you, you never left us. No need to take it out on a hapless waiter at Elton John's after-party.
Anyway, Mo'Nique delivered a classy speech and gave props to Hattie McDaniels for "enduring what she had to, so that I would not have to." Who's going to thank us for enduring Jennifer's Body? That's what I want to know.
OK, what kind of drugs was Tom Ford on? The Single Man made the robot known as Keanu Reeves look positively manic.
And here's a letter I composed to the Academy during the iPad commercial:
Dear Academy, Thanks for leaving Bea Arthur and Farrah Fawcett out of your "In Memoriam" tribute, but including some public relations guy no one's ever heard of. Good job!
Yours Truly.
What came next can only be described as "Michael Kidd Rolled Over in his Grave": interpretive street dancing to original movie scores! Wow. You haven't lived until you've seen poppin' and lockin' to The Hurt Locker soundtrack.
Just as we pass the three-hour mark, the show finally got around to the big awards. As expected and deserved, Best Actor went to Jeff Bridges, who thanked his parents for turning him on to such a "groovy" profession. Seems he really is The Dude.
Queen Oprah floated in on a cloud of money to give props to Gabourey Sidibe for coming out of nowhere and ending up in the same category as Meryl Streep. That is pretty awesome cool and no one can take that away from her.
Meanwhile, can anyone explain this trend?
Blue is in this Spring, but only if you're from Precious.
Stanley Tucci extolled the virtues of Meryl Streep, who's such a good actress, she actually seems taken aback and at a loss for words, for each and every one of her 87 career award nominations. She's that good.
In the end, Sandra Bullock beat them all and won her first Academy Award for The Blind Side. Everyone gave Sandy a standing O.
I haven't seen it yet, but apparently The Blind Side is about a hot white woman who takes in a black football player. I think it's about Kim Kardashian.
Bullock thanked her fellow nominees, espesh Streep, telling her, "You're such a good kisser." She then thanked her mom for teaching her that "there's no race, no religion, no class system, no color, nothing, no sexual orientation that makes us better than anyone else." You are officially forgiven for All About Steve.
Babs in da house! Barbra Streisand teeters out to announce Best Director. She opens the envelope, pauses and says, "Well, the time has come…" It's Kathryn Bigelow.
There you have it: the first Best Director Oscar for a woman. The Hurt Locker is going to get a nice bump at the box office now. You have to wonder what her ex-husband, James Cameron is thinking at that moment. Reducing her alimony, maybe.
For some reason, presenter Tom Hanks completely forgot to name the Best Picture noms and torn straight into the envelope. I didn't sit through three and a half hours of foreplay to get 10 seconds of the real business. Whatever. I have to go home and finish doing laundry anyway.
Once again, it's Ladies' Night for one special lady. The Hurt Locker takes it for Best Picture. Total nominations: 9. Total wins: 6. Kathryn doesn't make it back to her seat after her director award before she has to schlep back out to accept the Oscar for the film. We should all have such problems.
In the end, Avatar went home with blue balls, while The Hurt Locker blew it up. Congratulations to all the winners! Go Bigelow or go home, I always say.
