Hey y’all, I meant for this to be much longer and more in-depth, but it turns out that I really don’t care about the Oscars enough to make that happen.
I did, however, watch the entire show—Grace is OBSESSED—so I’ve got a pretty solid handle on what did and didn’t go down from the second ABC went live until the last award was handed out and they faded to black.
So without any further ado, here is my quick recap of Sunday night’s event.
Kathy Ireland looks like a freakin’ alien.
Perhaps she’s even a really anorexic and bleached version of one of those things from Avatar, I’m not entirely sure.
All I know is that sure-as-hell ain’t the same chick I had a major crush on through the majority of my formative years.
Anyone who has ever seen Necessary Roughness knows what I’m talking about.
This dude is absolutely untouchable.
I’m pretty sure that Clooney is the Hollywood-equivalent of Jebus as this point, because this dude is adored no matter what he does.
He shows up in dire need of a haircut, he gets praised. He looks grumpy-pants all evening, he gets praised. He acts like he’d rather be shacking up with his flavor-of-the-month girlfriend than sitting in the audience, he gets praised.
The dude is absolutely untouchable.
He shows up when he wants to.
Deal with it.
Gabourey Sidibe is done in Hollywood.
It may sound awful, but let’s be honest here folks, the Precious star is just a new version of Jennifer Hudson.
Remember when her career was set to take off after the Oscar win? Can anyone tell me what she’s done since then?!
The big difference here is that Gabourey Sidibe didn’t even take home the Oscar. We all know how Hollywood works and I just can’t imagine her fitting in another starring role anytime soon.
Call me whatever you want, but it’s just the facts folks. Hollywood sucks.
I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.
I’m pretty sure the entire world is in love with her.
…and that’s cool, because we all should be.
I’m not entirely sure what the whole idea was behind the whole Avatar get-up, thing.
It was kinda funny.
It was also kinda annoying.
It was definitely far too lengthy.
In the end, I’m just not a big Stiller fan.
I loved Zoolander and Dodgeball will always hold a special place deep in my heart, but overall, I think he’s kind of a tool who landed a chick light-years out of his league…’tis unrelated, but he should hear it as often as possible.
I don’t know who thought it’d be a wise idea to have a dance troop come on and do interpretive dance to represent each of the best picture nominees, but as I was watching it (read: for the three minutes I could stand it before I used the opportunity to get another beer and hit up the bathroom) I could think one thing and one thing only: What. The. Hell?!
It was a pretty big deal to give Hughes such a major tribute.
I just don’t get why—after years of avoiding singling out individuals for memoriam-type tributes—they decide to go with one for Hughes.
I mean, I get that Hughes was, like, the director of the ‘80s…but come on…we’ve seen the deaths of many far greater contributors to Hollywood receive drastically less praise in recent years.
I guess I just found it a little weird to give one dude—albeit a bad-ass dude—so much prime time space, especially when you consider that peeps like Farrah Fawcett, Henry Gibson, and/or the unforgettable Bea Arthur were all somehow left out of the “In Memoriam” slideshow all together.
Making it all-the-more perplexing is why/how Judd Nelson, looking like some sort of wino off the streets was even allowed within the same zip code as the Kodak Theatre on Oscar night.
Molly Ringwald just seemed nervous as all hell. Granted, she hasn’t been in front of a real camera in like twenty years, so I could see how that’d happen.
I haven’t seen it.
In fact, I can safely say that I have no doubt I’ll go my entire life having never seen it.
I said the same thing about the Lord of the Rings movies, the Harry Potter movies, and all these vampire movies and I meant it.
James Cameron is a pretentious d-bag and I’m like ten thousand kinds of happy he got beat by his ex. Sure, sure…she got all frozen and panicky and went into repeat mode about the military, but whatevs…she kicked the Titanic dude’s ass and that’s all I need to be happy.
Roger Ross Williams and Elinor Burkett
This whole Kanye West/Taylor Swift-like encounter just confused the crap outta me.
Williams had just hit the podium to give his thank yous and whatnot for Best Documentary Short (“Music by Prudence”) when suddenly some chick bumrushes the stage and takes over the microphone.
A little Googling would later reveal it was the producer of his movie, Elinor Burkett who had hijacked his speech.
The entire time I was waiting for her to say that his documentary short was good…but Beyonce has the best documentary short of all-time. Alas, that never took place.
At the same time, I was waiting for Williams to brain her to death with his Oscar. Despite the thought obviously crossing his mind—take a look at a replay and check that dude’s eyes—it never came to be either.
Rumor has it these two cats had gone through some serious differences on the set as well.
Nothing like a little Hollywood drama on Oscar night, huh?!
…and that, my Faithful Readers, is my quick Oscars recap!