Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones
cleolinda

Oscar entry #10

Here's Natalie--it's not quite the flapper dress I predicted, and a lot more flattering than that thing she wore to the Globes. Best Documentary Short: this year, they're about autism, freedom of religion, and... "complex family relationships." "AND I APPLAUD THEM," says Natalie. All the party people are up on stage. "Mighty Times: The Children's March" wins. DAMMIT! I HAD THAT DOWN AND CHANGED IT! The big tall guy accepting says, "I don't know about you guys, but I've been in the bathtub since I was eight years old practicing for this acceptance speech." He's wonderfully deadpan and I love him.

Chris Rock seems to have just noticed that they're herding the nominees onstage. "Next year, they're just gonna give them out in the parking lot." And here's John Travolta. Sigh. I've never gotten his appeal. Best Original Score, for which Howard Shore was disqualified, even though The Aviator was very good. Suck. I think Prisoner of Azkaban is the LJ sentimental favorite, although I loved the Snicket score. I hear The Village's score was the best thing about that movie, though. And Finding Neverland wins, which I was expecting for some reason. Eh. Maybe the Oscar experts aren't always wrong.

Here's poor Scorsese. Big applause. Shot of Spike Lee in the audience (?). Ah, the Humanitarian Award. Haven't had one of those in a while. Around the world, Oscar watchers get up and make a sandwich. Some Guy gets Some Award. I mean, I'm happy for him. Good work. I'm just saying.

Wooooo! Such a nice break. Speechify like the wind, Roger Mayer!

Here's Annette Bening. She is soooooo mellow. Seriously, woman is high as a kite. "Music. Has been film's. Handmaiden." Ah, here's Yo Yo Ma with some classical music for the Annual Death March of Deathly Death. REMEMBER NOT TO CLAP UNTIL IT'S ALL OVER, KIDS. First one up: Reagan (clap clap clap!). Sigh. Elmer Bernstein gets huge applause. The writer of Five Easy Pieces gets nothing. Russ Meyer gets whistles. Jerry Orbach gets much love. Janet Leigh gets more. Love for Christopher Reeve. Ossie Davis brings down the house. Love for Paul Winfield. Less for Jerry Goldsmith. Less than you'd expect for Rodney Dangerfield. More than you would for Virginia Mayo. This is why you don't clap until the end, people. Brando: whistling and cheering and the crowd goes wild. Why do I have a feeling that Johnny Depp is leading the cheer?
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