Tonight walking home from yoga I passed a dozen bars and restaurants that had chalkboards out front touting their Oscar parties. Part of me got a bit of Oscar envy, thinking it would be fun to be hosting an Oscar party in a couple hours.
Then I realized: I have absolutely no vested interest in the Oscars. I’ve only seen one – count it, ONE! – of the ten films nominated for Best Picture. And that was only because Alan and I motivated YESTERDAY (that’s exactly one day before the Oscars) to walk to Georgetown and watch The King’s Speech.
Aside from that, since I don’t own a television, I haven’t even seen trailers for the other films – unless I actively sought them out on Fandango over the course of the year. When the opening credits of The King’s Speech started rolling, I was shocked to see a microphone on screen – without any prior knowledge of the film, I had been assuming it was set back in the days of Henry VIII.
Um. Perhaps there’s something (albeit something small) to be said for television.
Interestingly, there was a whole crowd of Oscar “crammers” at the theatre on Saturday. Apparently Lowe’s offers a $50 Oscar ticket for people who want to do a marathon and watch ALL of the nominees in one fell swoop before the awards. I became antsy just looking at them, knowing they had resigned themselves to sit in a theatre for multiple hours. That might be my personal idea of hell.
Well, that plus some screaming infants, a line of people walking slowly down the sidewalk side-by-side, a menu serving only white creamy foods (like cream cheese, sour cream, mayonnaise and yoghurt), a Celine Dion album on repeat and a gaggle of women who refer to themselves as “mommy” when addressing other adults. That’s pretty much my idea of hell.
Speaking of hell… whose idea was it to have Anne Hathaway and James Franco host? The last time I checked, neither of them was a comedian, and that seems like about the ONLY prerequisite for hosting. Maybe I’ll hustle up a live stream so I can watch them bomb. Or… maybe that’s the real blessing of not owning a TV. I don’t have to.
pithypants 
They bombed. It bombed. No surprises. As one reviewer said, “Snorefest.”
My vote is for Kevin Spacey to host next year. I’d watch that!