Hollywood was stunned, shocked and bedazzled with the many surprises that strolled along the red carpet prior to the 2009 Academy Awards Ceremonies.
Penelope Cruz couldn’t afford a new dress so she wore some old number that had the faint scent of mothballs and pipe tobacco. She won an Oscar for her acting in Vicky Cristina Barcelona and to goose her future salary so she can afford a new garment some day soon.
Angelina Jolie looked simply ravishing in some sort of stitched fabric device she called a gown, while hubby Brad Pitt sported a backless yellow chiffon number that rode high on the thigh. He also sported some Jimmy Choo pumps that were like totally not sensible.
Marisa Tormei wore pumps. Just pumps. And a pole.
Kate Winslet wore a blue bathrobe with cute duckie slippers. She apologized for having overslept saying her alarm clock is on the fritz and she’s hitting Target soon for a new one. She has her heart set on one with a built-in radio!
Meryl Streep wore a gray dress that was a bit more fashionable than the black habit she sported in Doubt, but frankly she commanded much more respect in the nun get-up.
Anne Hathaway showed up in jeans and a sweatshirt, said she forgot the shindig was formal and ran home to quickly change.
Amy Adams wore red. A very pretty red, not too light or too dark, just lots of really red red.
Melissa Leo wore a stunning dress but was turned away by security guards. She explained she was nominated for Actress in a Leading Role, but it was no use. She was bounced.
Christian Bale showed up with fists balled and began shouting a string of profanities. He was looking for Shane Hurlbut, a director of photography, who he said was ruining “every shot in my whole f****** life!” A police SWAT force tagged him with tranquilizers and hauled him away.
One final note. You think these Hollywood types are so glamorous and refined, but that red carpet was filthy after this herd of wild animals tracked their dirty hoofs across it. And I swear, someone spilled cheap red wine on the red carpet and that stain will never come out! I’ve tried club soda, salt, commercial cleaners– nothing works!
Before the stars begin traipsing down the red carpet, The Lint Screen proudly predicts who will clutch statues of golden glory and who will grasp fistfuls of disappointment and heartache.
Hollywood's catnip, yummiliciousness!
Let’s get straight to the biggie–best picture: and the winner will be Slumdog Millionaire. A tough, tough call. I saw all the nominees except Frost/Nixon, but I don’t think it’s going to win since Dick Nixon was never much of a box office draw (he was more of a behind the scenes guy).
Stiff competition with the other pictures though. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was a spectacular film, but will be remembered more for seamless special effects than anything else.
Milk was an amazing character study and acting tour de force for Sean Penn and Josh Brolin. But, we knew the story before sitting down. Not enough mystery to satisfy our insatiable curiosity.
Then there was The Reader. Fresh, interesting story, great acting, directing, everything. But a little too too for an Oscar handshake. Too much of a downer.
Which leaves us with Slumdog. This film had it all: exotic and mysterious locale (India), incredible storytelling in a non-linear and ever-poke-the-ol’-curiosity-way, terrific performances, romance, game show, good versus evil (Chuck Dickens would be proud), visually stunning, poo humor, Bollywood dance number, captivating music, etc. It’s the entire package. A fresh film from a fresh place Hollywood hasn’t yet exploited. Oh, and it was done by Brits. Hollywood is totally Anglophile, I say… it finds all things English to be quite brilliant. Yep, Slumdog is an Oscar lock.
For leading actress, it’s a fight between Meryl Streep in Doubt and Kate Winslet in The Reader. My money’s on Meryl and her rosary beads. She sent shivers up the spines of any child who ever had a nun as a teacher (a performance so authentic, I had red imprints on my sweaty palms from phantom slaps of the ruler). Then again, Kate is British, so I could be wrong. I just hope it isn’t Anne Hathaway in Rachel Getting Married, an over-hyped soap opera of self-indulgent shaky cam. It was a movie that made every minute seem like five.
For leading actor, it’s Sean Penn versus Mickey Rourke as heavyweight contenders. I have to say Mickey was pretty incredible as a washed-up wrestler, but I didn’t feel his playing a has-been on the ropes was much of a stretch for him as an actor. As for Sean Penn, his was an incredible performance of becoming Harvey Milk. Penn continues to amaze as he transforms himself into varied roles. I think this will be his second handshake with Mr. O. Then again, Hollywood loves the Rocky-style actor comeback plotline, too. If Mickey were British, it’d be an easier pick. But I’m betting Penn, the dark horse.
In supporting actress, it’s a tough call. Could be Amy Adams in Doubt. Could be Viola Davis in Doubt (a relatively short time on film. but a legendary performance). Could be Marisa Tormei for baring darn near everything including her soul in The Wrestler. But wait, Marisa’s got an Oscar and we need a surprise pick. My money’s on Viola Davis. A long shot, I know, but I’m tossing the dice.
It's tough to beat death.
For supporting actor, go with Heath Ledger. Nothing aids fame quite like death. Ledger was terrific, he did some of the best tongue acting of all time, and he certainly caused many people to fear pencils. It’s too bad he’ll be the walkaway winner because there were great competitors with John Brolin in Milk, Philip Seymour Hoffman in Doubt, and Robert Downey, Jr. in Tropic Thunder. But, it’s all Heath, babes. Too bad he won’t be there to get the gold man.
For directing, Slumdog will win. Danny Boyle has a fresh eye, and it’s a brave film with wonderful performances. My quibble with it: too many Dutch angle shots, Danny-boy-o. They drive me nuts, like strong perfume in an elevator. Dutch angles try too hard. I think David Fincher deserves the award because Benjamin Button was a phenomenal story that required tons of special effects and pitch perfect performances, yet he pulled it all off in a perfectly natural way. A real magician’s trick and artistic touch. But, it’s the year of Slumdog. Hey, man, it is written.
In best adapted screenplay, the winner is (oh, these envelopes are so hard to get open), Simon Beaufoy for Slumdog Millionaire. No argument here, it’s a terrific tale well told. Well written. Can I milk this gag any more? Doubtful.
For best original screenplay, give a little fellow to Martin McDonagh for In Bruges. No, I didn’t see all the nominees, but I did love this screenplay and movie.
As for the other categories, well, I’ve got to go with Tony Smidlagg for Best Best Boy. I’ve always said “he’s the best.”
Enjoy the show. Make your picks. Ciao, babe, I’ll be poolside at The Beverly Hills Hotel…
