So Where is My Academy Award?

I am waiting for someone to walk up the driveway this morning and present me with the Oscar I should have received last night. I deserve some kind of award. After all, I stayed up till the bitter end of the show.

I must have been the only viewer left. Even Sandra, a bona fide movie buff,  fell asleep. I know I am not in the loop, and I can’t expect to catch on when I am deluged with “inside” jokes, but why wasn’t anyone else laughing? I mean really laughing?

It wasn’t until I read Salon this morning that I realized Billy Crystal was playing SammyDavis Junior, for example. I thought I saw Sammy himself once, but I couldn’t remember the legend’s name right away – not after all these years. You’re right: I am getting old.

And why were we shown Billy Crystal playing Sammy Davis Jr. anyway (if that’s what it was)? I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many flashbacks of an actor’s career – certainly not while they were still alive.

Sandra, ever-compassionate, described Hollywood’s big event as “almost embarrassing.”

Almost? Then how come it made my skin crawl?

The awards were politically predictable. Of course it was time for Meryl Streep to win another Best Actress Oscar. With 17  nominations and just two previous wins, it was only fair.

Of course those brave, misunderstood Iranians would get a trophy. They need encouragement to endure life under the wicked Ayatollah and his creepy stooge Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Maybe that will put an end to Iran’s nuclear ambitions and promote peace with America. But don’t hold your breath waiting for that to happen.

Of course the Academy had to throw “The Help” a bone. Of course they had to say “merci” to the French for memorializing Hollywood’s glory days. Of course they had to get an Oscar into Christopher Plummer’s hands before he dies of old age.

Of course…

But what on earth were those Circle de Soleil acrobats about? Were they there because they’re French, you think?

And did Crystal and his quirky presenters have to go on and on with endless double entendres and wink-wink, nudge-nudge allusions to events only they could recall? OK, so I didn’t get it. As I said, I’m not in the loop. I live in Lakeland, Florida, after all.

But you have to admit it’s not much of a show when the most memorable scene was Angelie Jolie poking her knee out of that slit in her dress. (photo above).

Perhaps it’s time to put the Academy Awards ceremony out of its misery.

But you and I know that’s not likely. And you and I know we’ll be propping up our eyelids and trying to stay awake through another extravaganza next year.

As the French say, the more things change the more they stay the same (but they say it in French, naturellement).

 Click here for the Salon review.