February 26, 2007
As usual, the Academy Awards were a huge bore. Ellen was, um, okay but a bit too mellow and casual for my taste. The best catty critique of Ellen, so far:
"It appears that hosting daytime TV, in some cases, retards the part of the brain responsible for selecting eveningwear. It was a relief when Ellen changed, midway through, into a slightly more upscale, all white, Usher-esque ensemble, but her third and final outfit of the evening looked like she'd bribed it off of one of the busboys at Musso & Frank's. With bigger mutton chops, she'd have been a dead ringer for Isaac from "The Love Boat."For me, the only real highlights were Alan Arkin's upset win, Al Gore-a-mania and the Will Ferrell-Jack Black-John C. Reilly musical number:
There seemed to be a subtle social-consciousness-boosting leitmotif suggesting that the night was occupied by Jodie Foster's army, and Thesbians were this year's minority elect.
But I don't care if you're male, female, gay, straight, all or none of the above: While getting dressed to host the Oscars, ask yourself: "Can I wear this to go bowling?" If the answer is yes, then you're much too comfortable and must change."
P.S. - How fixed are these award shows? Old friends of Scorcese's, Coppola, Lucas and Spielberg, just happened to be chosen to announce the Best Director award? C'mon...
Update: For a wonderfully snarky, pictorial recap of the show, go over to fourfour and say hi.