Angelina's Leg, J-Lo's Nipple, and Other Oscar Nuggets

Once again, as I have for over 20 straight years, I spent Oscar night in the company of good friends, which also makes the show more palatable. I listened to my female friends critique the dresses, and then we watched the show, which was deemed good by those I was with. I liked the vibe that was presented. Nothing, except for perhaps baseball, is in love with its own past as much as the film industry, and the Oscar telecast is always geared to celebrating a time that is presumed to be better than this one.

Though I enjoyed the show, when I analyze it in pieces it wasn't all that funny. I like when Billy Crystal, who hosted for the ninth time and the first time in eight years, inserts himself into movies (the kiss with Clooney was funny) but his medley of songs about the nominated films was tired and forced. Having to deal with a movie about 9/11, he simply sang, to the tune of "Thanks for the Memories," "Hanks is a memory." Oy.

I also wasn't crazy about Christopher Guest and company's sketch about a focus group on The Wizard of Oz, or the interviews with prominent actors about how much the movies means to them. The Cirque du Soleil performance was impressive, but I didn't find it appropriate. I did like the use of clips for almost all categories, but the screenplay selections were odd. They seemed to find the least interesting part of Woody Allen's script for Midnight in Paris to showcase.

As for the folderol that surrounds the Oscars, I lapped that during up the evening entertainment news shows like a pothead in a 7-11. Most of the talk was about two body parts: Angelina Jolie's right leg and Jennifer Lopez's nipple. If superior alien races are watching us, readying for attack, they must feel confident. Jolie, who dutifully attends these awards but has a constant expression of sedated bemusement on her face, got a little frisky while presenting the screenplay awards and thrust her right leg through the slit of her Versace dress as if she was responding to Madonna's "Vogue." Jim Rash, who won for co-writing The Descendants, promptly used his improv training to do mimic her pose. I wondered what was going on--did she want to show us she still had it? My mother thought she looked emaciated. It looked pretty good from where I sat.

Lopez, who favors gowns with plunging necklines, set tongues wagging with what may have been a hint of areola edging from underneath the material. Stylists and others say its just an allusion; but we'll see if there's a congressional hearing that stems from it.

This red carpet gauntlet the stars run is kind of an amazing spectacle. I marvel at the good will and graciousness that some, like George Clooney, display when they stop and talk to every reporter. Entertainment reporters, as a rule, include some of the dumbest people who appear on television, and their questions are routinely inane, but these performers, most of them, go through it with aplomb. I found the most bizarre exchange to be between Nick Nolte and a towering British women from ABC, who pried from him that he has pet crows.

The awards themselves had just enough surprises to make it interesting. The two biggest surprises, to me, were in the Best Editing and Best Actress categories. In the former, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo won, not in and of itself a huge shock, considering the film did have showy editing. But, since 1969, only five movies have won this award without being nominated for Best Picture.

In the Best Actress category, the fact that Meryl Streep won an Oscar is not a shock; it was to be sure that she would some day win her third, but I didn't think it would be this year. I thought the liberal-leaning Academy would allow their white guilt to sway them to vote for Viola Davis (plus, she deserved it). Apparently the Academy got tired of Streep showing up every year and losing graciously. She is now in a select group of people who have won three or more acting Oscars: Walter Brennan, Ingrid Bergman, Katharine Hepburn (with four), and Jack Nicholson.

Also setting records were Woody Allen, who became the first writer to win three Best Original Screenplay Oscars, and Christopher Plummer, who became, at 82, the oldest person to win an acting award. Plummer also gave the best speech, which he said he has been rehearsing since he came out of the womb. The Artist is only the second silent film to win for Best Picture (the first being Wings at the very first awards), although I argue that The Artist isn't really a silent film, not in the way silent films were made back then. It is also only the second black and white to win since 1960, the other being Schindler's List in 1993.

It's now time to turn the page and look forward to 2012's slate of films. Surely there will be an Oscar ceremony for everyone to disparage--Zach Galiafanakis and Emma Stone might be good hosts. Let the speculation start.