I don’t know about you, butt I needed a little break from politics and the real world and what better place to find respite from reality than in Hollywood? So I made myself a martini (gin, dry, with a twist) and watched the Oscars. Thankfully I hadn’t seen any of the movies nominated except Whiplash which was a big, big hit at last year’s Sundance Festival. I thought it was crappy butt then I guess in Hollywood a movie about a sadistic music teacher is considered a nice change of pace.
Surprisingly, most of the frocks this year weren’t as hideous as they’ve become over the recent past. In fact, some of them were quite attractive:
While others were, well, interesting;
Like Anna’s angel wings, and Gwyneth with that humongous rosebud plopped on her shoulder. Dear, dear Gwyneth; perhaps a little more “conscious uncoupling” might be in order. That rosebud appears to weigh even heavier on your delicate shoulders than it did on Orson Welles’.
Overall though, the show was pretty dull and there were no big surprises; the winners were long winded and American Sniper didn’t win in any category other than largest box office revenues.
I distracted myself by noting some uncanny resemblances among the glitterati. Take Marion Cotillard for example: I couldn’t get over how much she looked like former “Money Honey” Maria Bartiromo:
And take a gander at Jeff Goldblum – I haven’t seen him in years and I swear, give him a cigar and he could pass for Milton Berle!
And then there was this freaky duo: Dakota Johnson and her Mother, the actress formerly known as Melanie Griffith. Just yikes!
And speaking of freaky things, Lady Gaga performed a medley of Julie Andrews songs from The Sound of Music for no apparent reason other than her publicist was able to buy Gaga a timeslot on the interminable program in order to bolster her lagging sales. Surprisingly she sang rather well, butt she sure doesn’t look much like Julie Andrews, nor does she make a very good nun.
She actually looks more like Hills, if she’d slap a little red lipstick on those sour lips.
Come to think of it, Lady Gaga looks a lot like Uncle Milty too!
Anyway, there were, of course, the usual political agendas being beaten by Oscar winners, just in case the audience wasn’t already bored to tears.
John Legend won for the theme song from Selma and took the opportunity to highlight how much “Black Lives Matter:”
“We know that right now the struggle for freedom and justice is real,” he said. “We live in the most incarcerated country in the world. There are more black men under correctional control today than were under slavery in 1850.”
Hmmm. If I weren’t on a break from politics today I would certainly ponder on that for awhile.
And then Patricia Arquette, who won best supporting actress in something or other, chose to use her likely only trip to the Oscar podium to lead the charge against the Republicans’ War on Women:
“It is time for us. It is time for women. …The truth is even though we sort of feel like there is, there are huge issues that are at play and really do affect women. It’s time for all the women in America, and the men who love women and all the gay people and people of color we’ve all fought for to fight for us now.”
Got that? I think she’s also enlisted in Lady M’s War on Food army:
So there you have it: a whole evening filled with a bunch of vacuous people glad handing, fawning and pandering to another bunch of vacuous, fawning, panderers. All the while the booze, drugs and food flow magically and everyone get’s a looty bag of gifts to take home; come to think of it, that’s just another normal day around here. Well, except that Neil Patrick Harris doesn’t usually run around in his tighty whities. That honor’s reserved for somebody who shall remain nameless.