Marty's Party

Well. That's that. Despite its length, and despite at least an hour’s worth of unnecessary filler that made me long for Debbie Allen’s old dance routines or even Rob Lowe’s jitterbug with Snow White, it was somehow one of the livelier Oscarthons in quite some time.

Even though it began a week ago and even though you could hear a nationwide symphonic clicking of remotes to “mute” when Celine Dion was hauled out in honor of poor Ennio Morricone, the show was a bit more upbeat, stylish, and fun than I can remember it being for several years. When was the last time that the big stars of the evening were a beloved director and former Vice President?

Although The Departed isn’t the year’s best picture, its mini-sweep of editing-screenplay-director made its Best Pic victory a no-brainer by the evening’s end. And all of the movie’s winners - Thelma Schoonmaker, William Monahan, Martin Scorsese and Graham King – seemed so genuinely elated by their wins. The long ovation for Scorsese was especially nice (and certainly deserved).

I still don’t understand why winners are booted off the stage with that annoying “exit music” yet Jerry Seinfeld can yammer on into the night, offering up an endurance test that was almost as challenging as any number of those useless montages and that bizarre salute to the wonders of sound effects.

Can’t Philip Seymour Hoffman afford a haircut?

Am I the only one who felt a little sorry for Peter O’Toole?

In my next life, I want to be Catherine Deneuve.

Poor Guillermo Del Toro. To have your movie pick up three early Oscars and then lose Best Foreign Film, supposedly a slam dunk, must have been hard.

Ellen got off to a good start, but after the monologue she went the way of all hosts before her: unnecessary. It wasn’t her fault. They just never really know what to do with the host once things get rolling. Her schtick with the vacuum cleaner made me laugh, though.

I love Diane Keaton. Always have (even if her L’Oreal commercials are a bit creepy).
Like most of the women on parade tonight, she looked terrific. And how great to end the evening with her and Jack onstage together, especially having just seen them recently, again, in Reds. About Nicholson, have I missed something? What’s with the King of Siam do? He actually looks like Victor Buono when he played King Tut on Batman.

The overblown Dreamgirls songfest was a bit too much and sadly, a little too late. The gals were working hard but, like the orchestra that continued to play as the Titanic went down, it was difficult to enjoy.

Can we please pass some kind of legislation that forbids any future broadcasting of any red carpet repartee? The, um, “hosts” (for lack of a useful moniker) are, every last one of them, useless, fawning, mush-mouthed idiots. Who are these people? Didn’t they spend their childhoods watching and learning from Army Archerd and Rona Barrett?

So there we have it. Another Oscar night has come and gone. No Vanity Fair bash or Governor’s Ball for me. Instead, I think I’ll catch the end of Meet John Doe on TCM.