Oscar Night



WELL, HERE I AM - back in black-tie for the 77th Annual Academy Awards. Yes, I finally made it off the red carpet and into the Kodak Theater but for the first time in Oscar history the show didn't run long. What a disappointment: no streaking, no political rants, no Italian comics dry-humping the stars and absolutely NO surprises. So tonight, I am in mourning. If I'd seen any of the films nominated or cared about the future of American cinema, I'd be wearing even more black even more stylishly. The last major awards show of this major awards season was duller than watching paint dry on a film cell of an animated short that no one will ever, ever see.
Not even the show's host, Martin Lawrence, could save the telecast with his signature "You ladies need to keep it clean down there" monologue. Old standbys let us down: where was Angelina Jolie to tongue-kiss her brother? Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg to make us feel financially and morally inferior? Sean Penn, Tim Robbins - would it have killed you to put in a few good words for Kim Jong-il? If you expect the scorn of red-staters for as long as Jane Fonda, you can't miss an opportunity like this!

The only thing that livened up the show was news that this year's statuettes would be held in safekeeping at the home of socialite Paris Hilton:



What a great way for Paris to repay her debt to the entertainment community. So far, there are no complaints; Morgan Freeman very graciously accepted a 1979 C-3PO action figure Krazy-Glued to a paperweight early this morning.



Since tonight's ceremony has yet to air in some parts of the world, I'll label this next comment a *SPOILER*:











The emotional high point came near the end, when Clint Eastwood euthanized Martin Scorcese's chances of ever winning the prize for Best Director. Better luck next decade, Marty!

More Oscar coverage tomorrow.....