“Live Blogging From the Academy Awards!”


I start to type up a blog about Barack Obama tonight, when lo and behold! I realize that the Academy Awards are on.

I don’t really go to many movies.  I have a hard time with violence.   I can only manage most modern movies if I can persuade someone who’s already seen the movie to go a second time and let me hide my eyes in their shoulder until they tell me it’s okay to look again.

And, then, well, there’s the busy-ness factor.   There are just so many other things to do these days.    You can, for example, live hooked up to a computer.

Not seeing many movies  limits my interest in the Academy Awards.  But I watch some of the show simply for the nostalgia factor.  It’s a show that my parents let me stay up for as a child.  My mom loved movies, loved Hollywood;  memories of seeing favorite movies were some of her happiest.

As the Oscars played, I’d sit near her feet on  our living room rug while she went on and on about how old or young somebody looked.  (Actually, usually what she talked about was how old someone was and how young they looked.)  My dad usually stretched out on a further place in the rug and snored.

So far (and I, thankfully, missed the beginning) this seems to be kind of a boring Academy Award show.  I like Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin, but the show seems stripped down, less sillily glitzy.

Costumes are boring; dresses predictable (no one’s wearing a swan!)   Many of the stars are amazingly poor at reading from teleprompters.  (In the old days, when the presenters read from index cards, there was at least the interest of seeing them holding the cards far or close to their eyes, fanning themselves when they gave up on getting the words out, and then, of course, the occasional wonder of reading glasses stuck briefly on the bridge of some celebrated nose.)

Secondly, there is a huge number of commercials (and these are not Super Bowl commercials.)  Many of the little films and clips on the show itself seem like commercials.  It’s as if the Academy is desperately trying to sell us on how important it and its products are.

So the awards go on.  There’s some interest in seeing how weirdly big earrings can be; how whittled down actresses can get themselves.

Then too, there  is the contagious emotion of some award recipients.  It’s very hard not to be moved by Monique and the winners from Precious, and also those from The Hurt Locker, relative newcomers to the glittery scene.

One guy has just said that what he likes about short films is that they are short.  Unfortunately, that’s not one of the sterling qualities of the Academy Awards Show.

Still, I’ll give it a little longer.  (Like so many of those recipients, in honor of my mom.)

UPDATE at end of Oscars:  I lasted through it!  So glad Hollywood came through for The Hurt Locker and not Avatar.  (I tend to go for the ex-wife.  And Cameron was hard enough to stomach even from his seat.)
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