The Oscars always make for a jovial and memorable evening, while serving as an acceptable excuse to either host or attend a well-dressed, booze-flowing get together. I regret to report I did neither this year.
Then, the day after, comes the typical crisscrossing of scathing Oscar commentary from just about everyone and anyone in Hollywood who has something to say. I don’t blame them. If I were (still) a Hollywood type, or at least working in that arena, I’d have much more to share right now than I do. However, seeing as San Francisco is now my home and I’m not chasing the tails of Big Screen glamour, I here now defer to the true critics of the event. Variety has this to say about last night’s very-somewhat-shortened telecast, while The Hollywood Reporter offers up this review of this year’s two “young” co-hosts. Check them out if you haven’t yet reached your Oscar coverage capacity.
I will say is this: James Franco in drag, especially a la Marilyn, wins. An extended speaking appearance by 94-year-old Kirk Douglas, for better and for worse, wins as well. And that which no one can go without mentioning, including myself apparently, makes for win number three as far as I’m concerned. This, of course, would be Melissa Leo’s now-famous f-bomb, the first such “bomb” in Oscars history so it’s said. My reaction: So the “f-bomb” what! Or better yet: “Big “f-bomb” deal! WTF with obsessing over the F? Granted, it was certainly the letter of the night, if as nothing else than an overall grade by many critics. As for Ms. Leo, she was emotional, and it was natural ad-libbing, so cut the woman some slack. At least she extemporaneously earned a unique, though hopefully not detrimentally lasting, title for herself!
And that’s my opinion, sans another F.
Ryan R. Sanderson 