Billboard Artist of the Year and Attender of Envelope Openings Usher comes out with Lisa Marie Presley. Wow, could these two people be any more mismatched? So. Best score. Go Howard Sh--no! no! wait! I hate Howard Shore and everything he represents! The Aviator was awful and Lord of the Rings sucked! You are an embarrassment to the industry, Howard Shore!
WOOT! IT WORKED! Howard Shore wins! WHY DID I NOT START DOING THIS SOONER? I'm sorry, Cate and Kate! It's all my fault you lost!
Best original song, none of which I've heard, I don't think, because I am completely out of the loop. (Okay, The Polar Express really is an abomination. I mean that.) And yeah, I haven't heard the Minnie Driver song even though I saw the movie, because I was like, "Eh, lemme go out on a hot-guy high. We outta here." Ooo, Alfie is pretty. That's not really good criteria for a song, is it? But it wins, so apparently I have the HFPA back under my psychic thrall. MOO HA HA.
Wow, Mick Jagger actually looks less shriveled than usual. He compares the song to a "push-up bra." I... okay... huh? The Eurythmic on hand thanks Jude Law and Sienna Miller for "being so into the movie" (uh... huh) and I think he starts mentioning his many children or something, and Mick Jagger's like, "OH SHIT, NOT YOUR KIDS!" and drags him offstage. I think Mick Jagger should preside over every awards show speech. "CHRIST, YOU ALREADY THANKED YOUR LAWYER ONCE. OFF WE GO!"
WHOA, IT'S PRINCE. DUDE. When the announcer said his name, I so expected Jim Carrey to come out dressed up like Prince or something. I can't believe it's actually him. He's sitting here talking and everyone else is just going WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Prince is incredibly deadpan. I think he and Johnny Depp would get along really well. He is here to present the Ray clip. Whoa. I hadn't seen anything from the movie yet--damn, Jamie Foxx is good.
Here's Ron Howard. I still hate you, Ron Howard. Best director nominees: Clint Eastwood. Again. Marc Forster. Again. Mike Nichols. Again. Alexander Payne. Again. Martin Scorsese. Again times a number so infinite I don't even have words for it. Aaaand... Clint Eastwood wins. Dear Mr. Scorsese: I think you should start to take this personally. You may want to expatriate to, like, France or some shit. I hear Johnny has a spare room. Clint is all like, "Dude, that tsunami thing was great." Seriously. Take out "dude" and that's what he said. He does call Morgan Freeman the greatest living actor (I think? I may be off on the wording), which is awesome.
We have an hour left. What in the world are we going to do with it?
Here's Diane Keaton. Good Lord, was she high last year. "Okay! MEN!" she says. And she goes two for two! Best actor, musical/comedy. That's right, everything is in two crap categories from here on out, I'd forgotten. Cheer for Jim Carrey. Huge cheer for Jamie Foxx. And then Diane Keaton's all like, "PAUL GIAMATTI! SIDEWAAAYYYYS!" And she just keeps screaming from there. So. High. Maybe it's a natural high? I dunno. And then she shrieks something that only dogs can hear and my ears start bleeding and there are tears and my dog says, "Look, just type 'Jamie Foxx.' That'll cover it." Jamie Foxx starts up a call-and-response singalong. I would like to hear it, but I'm still partially deaf. He does thank Taylor Hackford, "this Caucasian man, for taking a chance on this beautiful black film. Don't even trip!" I will remember not to, Jamie. Apparently there is an after party thrown by "Puffy" (are we off "P. Diddy" now?) and Prince is going to perform and "it is going to be OFF THE CHAIN." Forget the hook, y'all. And now he tears up trying to thank his grandma. Awwww.
Pleeeease let me have a commercial break so I can get a drink! Ahhhh. Thank you.