Oscar Post Mortem

Boring and bloated. There, I said in three words what took almost four hours. I hate to admit it, but I was praying that the telecast would've been interrupted by something fantastic like Anna Nicole rising from the dead, just to break the monotony.

Ellen was "too" nice. Yeah, she had two nice bits with Marty and Clint, but otherwise, she was as bland as tapioca pudding.

What the fuck is up with Jack Nicholson? Is he auditioning for the title role of a biopic on Marlon Brando? He was almost unrecognizable, save for the sunglasses.

Jennifer Hudson's stylist (or whoever made her wear that silly metallic bolero) should be boiled in oil.

Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep didn't take their Prada roles to heart, apparently. Meryl, it's okay to be size 14, however, you don't have to dress as if you were size 16.

How on earth did Cameron Diaz go to the bathroom in that gown? Maybe she didn't. Maybe she got her hands on some of those astronaut nappies.

Will somebody please take a microphone away from Ryan Seacrest? The only good thing was that Billy Bush was nowhere in sight.

Now onto the good stuff...

As for the awards itself, I'm of two minds. It was great and well deserved that Marty got his Oscar, but one gets the feeling that this year, he could have been nominated for directing traffic and he still would've gotten it. Plus, he was nominated for a film that was an adaptation of a Japanese film...does that carry the same weight as an original like RAGING BULL or GANGS OF NEW YORK? I'm not sure. And wasn't it a huge tip off on who was going to win with Spielberg, Lucas and Coppola presenting the award?

Hindsight has shown that often, the Academy bestows the little golden man for reasons other than who was the "best" that year. How else to explain AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS and THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH winning for Best Picture? Hell, Elizabeth Taylor admitted that her Oscar for BUTTERFIELD 8 was undeserved. She hated the role and did everything she could to get out of it, reportedly. But during the Oscar balloting she was gravely ill with pneumonia and nearly died.

I predicted pretty much all the major winners. Just before they announced Best Supporting Actor, I told my hubby that it was Eddie Murphy's to lose, and sure enough, he did. What a kick in the teeth. In retrospective, following his plum role in DREAM GIRLS with NORBIT now seems like a really dumb move.

As for Helen Mirren and Forest Whittaker, they basically won for impersonation. Whittaker seems to have mainly won for being a truly nice guy who turned into a beast on camera. Not taking anything from Whittaker, a marvelous actor, but you should see my husband when he discovers that raccoons have gotten into the trash or when somebody cuts him off in the Stop & Shop parking lot.

What was up with nominating BORAT for Best Adapted Screenplay? Was that some kind of inside joke?

Yay for President Al Gore!

Really, they should hand out all the special effect awards on a separate night. Just give the people what they want: the red carpet and Brad Pitt.

Soap Opera Overload

Anna Nicole Smith and Britney Spears. A match made in Celebrity Heaven. A paparazzi dream come true.

Anna Nicole was a train wreck in progress. While her death was shocking, given her age, it wasn't surprising, given her lifestyle. She wanted to be famous, well, she's more famous now in death than she was in life, the legal saga goes on, and we still don't know who fathered little Dannilynn. Is it Howard? Larry? The Prince? Elvis?

What was this cab driver turned Florida jurist auditioning for, his own half-hour sitcom on Spike TV? I thought it was a court proceeding, not a group therapy hug.

Then you have Britney's excruciatingly public breakdown. At first glance, this seemed to come out of blue, but there were signs all along. Her breakup with Justin, the sudden hookup with Kevin, getting pregnant back to back, then the failed marriage, those sans underwear photos, the constant partying with her new BFF. With two babies under two years of age, where does she get the energy? Maybe I shouldn't ask.

Beyonce vs. Jennifer H.

Am I the only one in the western world who thinks that Beyonce agreeing to appear as the cover model of this year's Sports Illustrated "swimsuit" issue is nothing more than a bitchslap to Jennifer Hudson?

Reality check: Beyonce is a star. Jennifer H was dumped from American Idol too soon. Beyonce is thin. Jennifer H is curvaceous and well-endowed.

DREAMGIRLS was supposed to be Beyonce's movie, but it's not, thanks to Jennifer stealing it from under her nose (what's next, Jay Z?).

Jennifer is getting all the accolades and the awards that by all rights should have gone to Beyonce. It's understandable that Beyonce might be jealous and resentful. Still, can't Beyonce's advisors think of a better way for their charge to upstage Jennifer than exposing Beyonce's Golden Globes?

Girlfriends, c'mon, why can't we all get along? Retract those claws. Meow! Meow!

I'M BAAACKKKKK!!!!!!

C'mon, you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily?

After a couple of tumultuous months, I've regrouped, taken a deep breath, loaded up on high potency vitamins, flushed my meds down the toilet and decided that if not now, then when?

A new year brings new beginnings, new hopes, new dreams and desires. 2006 was an awful year and I'm more than ready to kick it to the dustbin of history. I figure, 2007 can't be any worse (well, yes, it can, but I'm going to remain optimistic). I feel like I've jumped out of an airplane without a parachute. It's exhilarating yet scary at the same time.

Okay, so I'm never going to win an Oscar. I'll never meet George Lucas. And maybe, just maybe, I'm a third rate writer who had her chance and blew it.

Then again...maybe not. Karma, if I ever needed you, it's now.