Eva Green and Gael García Bernal. Eva is... trussed up in... grey tulle? There seems to be a very nice white dress trapped under there. Her hair and makeup are pretty glam, though. Documentary Short Subject: The Blood of Yingzhou District, so my picks weren’t totally off. Thomas Lennon gives his speech in English; Ruby Yang gives hers (much shorter) in Chinese.
“In case you’ve wondered where he’s been... Jerry Seinfeld!” Surprisingly, I haven’t been. “A few years ago I was in a documentary called Comedian that won nothing and made even less.” He’s here with Best Documentary... but not before we get a free routine. Seinfeld’s apparently a proponent of the Not Cleaning Up After Oneself at the Theater theory, which I have heard of, but just isn’t something we do down here. All’s I know is, the Fametracker movie manners thread nearly had several meltdowns over the question, because people who believe you have a right to leave your trash behind, like Seinfeld, believe this very strongly. An Inconvenient Truth wins. Goodness me, there are a lot of people onstage. I thought there was a three-producer limit, but on the other hand, I don’t think anyone’s going to quibble with the Former Vice President of the United States, who proceeds to thank Tipper, nearly throws his hat into the ring again, and urges everyone to save the planet. You know, when they’re not littering in theaters.
Here’s Clint Eastwood to give Ennio Morricone his Oscar. I am nipping downstairs to refill my water glass, brb.
You know, there’s nothing quite like walking through the house and hearing Morricone scores playing in three different rooms.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Celine Dion performing the world premiere of ‘I Knew I Loved You.’” Wait, what? Did we just go back in time ten years? Morricone looks as confused as anyone. Where are we? Can we go back to the timestream where Marie Antoinette won?
(Damn, Celine is also wearing an unexpectedly awesome dress. It actually reminds me of Gwyneth's as well--pale peach, with a lot of lines going on. Pleating, or some kind of corsety action, or--dammit, I don't have the vocabulary for this.)
"Ladies and gentlemen," says Clint Eastwood, "Ennio Morricone." So at least we're back to a place in time that makes sense now. Morricone accepts in Italian. I understand enough Italian to know that he's saying something about deeply and profoundly and all the something. Clint interprets--wow, Clint speaks Italian? Well, I guess he would, wouldn't he, with all the spaghetti westerns. Everyone squints with intense concentration, as if that would make Morricone suddenly speak English.
I can't believe I just finished a whole box of Tagalongs.