Party Like You're There
My Oscar tradition with Michele Anderson began one year when our rabbit ears on top of our tv in our little apartment just would not pick up the ABC station that was literally less than a mile away. I chose her for many reasons. I knew she wouldn't mind watching them, at the very least. And at best, I kind of figured she would Get It. I just didn't realize how much she would.
This year Michele is moving a few hours away. She says I should keep coming every year anyway, but (just in case) this year she did it big. Usually I balk at dressing up too much for the show because the only way to enjoy the fact that you're watching from home instead of from the Kodak Theater is to glory in the fact that you can wriggle your toes and cover up with a blanket and eat through the entire program and other such luxuries not available to the poor women who are actually there and in shape-wear and heels.
But when I walked into Michele's glamorous room, draped with black (thank you, Scott!) and drenched with Oscar goodness, I changed my mind.
Here are other things I loved about the 84th Annual Academy Awards (that's two years older than Christopher Plummer, who got his first Oscar last night and skyrocketed me one point closer to winning the ballot game).
Billy Crystal. They never should have let him go.
All my Clark Gables were there (a la Judy Garland singing, "Dear Mr. Gable...You made me love you...I didn't want to do it..."): George Clooney, Brad Pitt (he's from Missouri - I'm drawn to him), and Tom Cruise (he did what? he jumped on Oprah's couch and weirded everyone out with his religion, which was invented by a science fiction author? I never heard about it....).
THE MONTAGES. You know I always love these. I think in montages. I pretend I'm living one. And in this case, besides the In Memoriam and the movie clips, I adored the Magic of the Movies black-and-white video interviews with fellow movie lovers/popular actors. Adam Sandler's truth, Reese Witherspoon admitting to how happy she gets watching Overboard! (YES and ditto), and all of them talking about how hard they try to do it well and how in awe they are when their peers so beautifully manage it.
Meryl Streep thanking her husband first, because when she saves him for last the music cuts it off, horribly diminishing the fact that he's the most important one.
Angelina's leg. Ha! Just kidding. Though if I HAD that leg, I'd probably pose that way too. And honestly, I did like it. It was sort of a sassy reflection of my own delight in the evening. Plus, I'm that girl whom in this context is really, really hard to displease. I LIKED JAMES FRANCO LAST YEAR. That's the depth of my unwillingness to discern when it comes to this show.
Penelope Cruz, Sandra Bullock, Cameron Diaz, Gweneth Paltrow, Octavia Spencer, Michelle Williams, and Jessica Chastain - some of my favorite looks.
Cirque du Soleil. That was are-you-kidding me cool.
And - this one will kill you - this is where we separate the fans from, well, me. I love the fact that it wasn't one second shorter than four hours. That length of time only barely satisfies, and I always feel a wee bit sad when that legendiest of celebrities comes out to announce best picture.
I swear my Monday was better because of these things. It was just so nicely backdropped - or maybe saturated really - with that wonderful thing they call the Magic of Movies.