I have surprisingly little to say about last night’s Oscar ceremony. I was pleased that Chicago didn’t sweep everything. I was pleased that The Pianist got some recognition. I enjoyed Adrien Brody’s speech, especially the snogging he laid on Halle Berry. I was disappointed that three of the year’s best movies were essentially ignored: About Schmidt, Adaptation, and Far From Heaven. I wasn’t surprised that Michael Moore made an ass of himself (but I still like him). And though I don’t like Eminem, I’m glad his song won. I liked Steve Martin’s low-key but sometimes biting humour. And I’m happy that they finished by midnight. That is all.
Some friends told me that the Independent Spirit Awards were much better, and I’m disappointed that I wasn’t able to watch them.
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