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| “Holy shit am I glad I decided not to host.” |
Despite the weary tone of my picks post, I'm determined to have fun with the Oscars this year. Of course, there's more to it than who wins—most casual moviegoers don't even really give a shit most years, not having seen more than like one or two of the movies, and those rarely ones that are set to win anything—and in that spirit, it's time to speculate about goofy bullshit that has nothing to do with the competition at hand. Because, as Crash Davis put it so well, “It's fun, goddammit.”
---The all-important Cameron Diaz/Jake Gyllenhaal Memorial Golden Giraffe Ass Award, given to the presenter who's so stoned they can barely read the teleprompter: it's extremely tempting to go with Zach Galifianakis here, because, I mean, dude. But I beg to differ. Not only is it a loaded field (double entendres so hot they're pornographic, that's the Movies By Bowes ™ way), but this is the lone hope for any real entertainment value this evening. While Halle Berry reliably always seems half in the bag at these things, I think the Giraffe Ass (as in, “higher than”) goes to Christian Bale this year. I think he's just awkwardly Method enough to need to blaze before appearing in public as himself. Angelina Jolie is going to seem like the runaway winner (she's been looking alarmingly wan of late) but after she tests negative for any recreational substances, Bale will go home the triumphant winner. Though Bradley Cooper is a dark horse candidate, as are the Bridesmaids gals (they seem like the sort who would build a gravity bong just for the fuck of it, don't they? I mean that in the best possible way, of course.)
---Christopher Plummer's acceptance speech is going to be pure class. Christopher Plummer's the fuckin best.
---Tina Fey will be funnier in ten seconds than Billy Crystal will be all night.
---Which brings me to something I want to address, because back in the day I loved Billy Crystal, and when he was on point he was the best Oscar host there's been in my lifetime. But there was a point a few years ago when he suddenly and irrevocably became Old. Since that probably sounds ageist, I should clarify that being Old and being regular old aren't the same thing, as, for example, Clint Eastwood is old but he's not Old because he still fucking owns, not to mention he could almost be Billy Crystal's dad. I'm mainly worried because of something Billy said in Entertainment Weekly, about how his centerpiece bit is going to be this long-ass thing about how much the Oscars have changed since he first hosted them. And I hate to say this, much as I loved When Harry Met Sally and even Running Scared back in the day, but Billy: nobody gives a fuck. Prove me wrong and be funny, please. I want to be wrong about this.
---Sacha Baron Cohen will be mildly amusing, and the entire media is going to have a gran mal seizure freaking the fuck out about how “controversial” he was, FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER. Dudes, lighten up.
---Over/under on Harvey Weinstein jokes: an assload. Take the over.
---Elizabeth Taylor is going to bat cleanup in the death montage, and get the most applause. Whitney Houston will be close, as will Sidney Lumet, but this is Hollywood. Vegas probably isn't even taking action this year. (And yes, I know that's morbid. But people do bet on this; I can neither confirm nor deny having won $20 on Heath Ledger beating out Ingmar Bergman that one year, but I can confirm I was not proud of myself.)
---Best dress: Viola Davis. She has to look right when she wins.
---Worst dress: I'm afraid some stylist is going to fuck Jessica Chastain up. Not much basis for this, but with her coloring, thing's can get precarious. All right, now I have to stop before I have to rename this Movies By Mr. Blackwell.
---And, finally, this is vague as shit, and probably wishful thinking, but I have an odd feeling something really weird is going to happen at some point that's going to overshadow the whole evening. Something in the same event genre as that streaker who tried (in abject fucking failure, of course) to overshadow David Niven in the 70s, except I think it'll have something to do with politics. Maybe this is just because I'm so desperate for something memorable to happen.
Anyway, that's all I got this year. I'm going to go to the fancy beer store and get a moderate amount of something good, which is more my speed these days than a lot of something shitty. I'll be livetweeting at @moviesbybowes, so follow me if you don't already, and get ready for an unbumpy ride.
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