26 March
Here I am, back at last! And I got home just in time for the Oscars, so I will not be writing about my trip for now, but instead I will be writing my Oscar thoughts.
And, by the way, when I say that I got home just in time for the Oscars, I mean that I walked through the door exactly as it was starting. The last three years, I had shows on Oscar night, and today it's that I am rushing home from London. I never just get to relax in front of the set.
O wait, I have just figured out the tradition, it's that I have to stay up until 3a or 4a watching the damn things, because I cannot start in the middle, I must rewind the tape and only start watching once it is over. This time I'm watching it in real time, but I'm on London time, so I'll probably be up until 6a as far as I am concerned! Ah well, it's a tradition.
Yes, there is my man, Russell "I Never Smile When I Am At Awards Shows" Crowe. You know, the day that they found out about the kidnapping, two different people came to me and told me that my plot was foiled. I told them that were I to kidnap Russell, it certainly wouldn't be for money, that's a waste of a kidnapping, not when there are sex slaves to be made!
In re the monologue, some of those jokes were a little easy, Steve. There are several hours left, so I will reserve judgement.
Why is Nicolas Cage presenting Best Supporting Actress? He didn't win Best Supporting Actor last year, you cannot fool me. Ah, just looked it up, it was Michael Caine. He was too busy? He had better things to do? He is staying home,tongue-kissing his two Oscars, or dressing them in little outfits? Okay, so he's probably working elsewhere, but my version is more interesting.
Marcia Gay Harden! I do not believe that anyone predicted that one! Strange how Best Supporting Actress is often a left-field surprise. In fact, practically the only predictable thing about the Best Supporting Actress race every year is that if you are the front-runner, you might as well stay home. Unless you are Angelina Jolie. Or unless you were her, because, like Vanessa Redgrave, she will never win again. Next time she'll probably blow her brother onstage.
There's Russell again...sigh. Why did he shave? He looks much better unshaven. Listen to him, pronouncing everyone's name correctly, that's my boy. Clearly no American.
Halle Berry is proving that, even when just playing herself and introducing Sting, she still cannot act.
God, I'm tired. It's 3a in London, you know. I'm trying to be funny, but all I can think of is my bed.
Benicio Del Toro! Yay Benicio! And he has combed his hair since the SAG Awards!
Great Christ, a production number. Well, at least it seems to be fitting for the song from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, being all martial-artsy and all. Good of Debbie Allen to restrain herself from the tap dancing. Boy, the song sure sucks, though.
That was a good one, Steve! And I will repeat it. "I went to see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but was disappointed, because I could not see any tigers or dragons, but then I realized that it was because they were crouching and hidden!"
Ah, Kate Hudson. You can tell that they thought that she would win, since she is presenting after her category, and they don't really want people up there with long faces.
For Best Makeup, just look and see which film Rick Baker did, and place money on that one. It must be in the rules, that only people that named after people who make bread and cake can win for Best Makeup. Why, I cannot know, but you know the Academy.
Randy! Randy Randy Randy! Randy Newman! You don't have a chance, because just as only people named "Rick" and "Baker" can win Best Makeup, only people who are not named "Randy" and "Newman" can win any of them music awards. This year it'll be Bob Dylan, next year it'll be someone else. You will never win. But hey, a tradition is a tradition. They are waiting for you to have to drag your colostomy bag up with you.
Goldie Hawn, you are what, 60? Time for a new image. A new laugh, if nothing else.
I don't know if what I want to do is go to sleep and watch the last couple of hours in the morning or prop my eyelids open with toothpicks.
"Coming up, a remarkable performance by Best Song nominee, Björk!" How do they know it is remarkable when it has not actually occurred yet? The dress rehearsal must have really been something to provoke that rhetoric. I still might go to sleep, though. It is 4.30a, as far as my eyelids are concerned. Which means that I have fulfilled the tradition to stay up until 4a and am free to sleep.
Dino De Laurentiis is, no matter what Anthony Hopkins is saying about him right now, a hack. I mean Hannibal or no Hannibal, he still is the one who not only made the remake of King Kong, but its sequel! Because the first was so good, you see. Fuck me, I'm going to bed.
Hello, I am awake again and all is merry and bright! Would be merrier and brighter if the damn cat didn't keep me awake for part of the night, but hey, them's the breaks. You lie down with the cats, you get up with the cats. At 4a you get up with the cats. Okay, back to the Oscars.
Well, there's Björk! Was the performance remarkable? Well, the dress was remarkable, but for the performance, though absolutely great, was not what I would call remarkable. Maybe if she had done card tricks or something.
There's the parade of the dead. I'll bet Alec Guinness is yelling "Not Star Wars, not a clip from that fucking Star Wars!!" and John Gielgud is patting him on the shoulder, saying, "Don't worry, old boy, they used Arthur for me, which I always said was a rather common film."
Jack Valenti? I wonder if they put him with the well-loved Juliette Binoche so that no-one would throw tomatoes. With rocks in them.
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Best Foreign Language Film, no huge shock there! It would really be amazing if it also won Best Picture, though Traffic should win that one.
Jennifer Lopez introducing Bob Dylan? Does she know who he is? Actually, from the excited look on her face, she probably does, shame on me for doubting her.
Bob Dylan is performing from Australia? I wonder what time it is there...let's see, that was about 11p here, so it was about...o, 5p in the afternoon. That's not very thrilling, it would be so much more fun if it were 6a or something, but then we would have had to have the Oscars at noon, which would have been alot of trouble just to make Bob Dylan get up early.
That moustache is a mistake, I think.
When they keep showing Dylan's great big head on that screen, he looks like the Oscars version of Big Brother.
And Bob wins. No huge shock there, it was a great song, and he is Bob Dylan! And he isn't young and scary, like he was when he was nominated for "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", now he is an old lion and the Oscars will accept him.
I'm sure that Tom Hanks is thrilled that the only scene they ever show from Castaway is the fire scene with the big gut.
Russell! Russell won! And he has an expression on his face and everything, because he clearly had the shit shocked out of him. O,this is so great, and it's for The Insider as well, of which he was robbed. O, I'm so happy. I'm glad I'm rested for it, as well, because I couldn't have appreciated it as much with my head nodding on the keyboard.
Hey, you know what? I bet this will help the poor celibate thing get some pussy at last!
Steve Martin is, I think, doing a swell job. That dip bit with Danny DeVito was great.
Julia Roberts wins. I really think that nobody on the planet earth is surprised about that one. Great speech, very heartfelt and funny and moving, not all big-headed and sure that she was going to win, but neither so hugely surprised so as to be ridiculous. Sarah Jessica Parker, take note.
She did forget to thank Erin Brockovich herself, though. But she thanked her the four hundred other times that she won, so it's okay.
C'mon O Brother Where Art Thou! Damn, Traffic. Ah well, that was my second choice, screenplay-wise, I just would have liked to see my lovely O Brother Where Art Thou to win something.
Okay, now Cameron Crowe must win. And he did! Hooray!
Yay! Stephen Soderbergh won for Traffic! I cannot believe that he didn't knock himself out of the running with Erin Brockovich.
Hey, good of Michael Douglas to present when he was screwed out of two nominations. That's grace.
What? Gladiator is Best Picture? That is just plain wrong, honestly. I adore the film, I truly do, you know I do, but it wasn't the best picture of the year, that would be Traffic.
Well, that's it! I'm off to work. I will be transcribing and uploading the England entries over this week, the first one, the one for 16 March everyone on my private list has already read, but the rest of you have not, so go to!
Today's horoscope:
Trade back-rubs or foot massages with someone close. Who knows where it might lead?
One year ago today:
"I mean, we all have these bursts of inspiration before our entrances, and it is our job as professionals to suppress them!"
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Last Updated Mon 26 March 9:24:09 2001