Oscars: Where's the tempo?

An hour into the telecast of the 82nd Academy Awards, you couldn't help but hope that somewhere backstage at the Kodak Theater someone was waving a script and yelling: "Tempo, people, tempo."

Despite everyone's best efforts, this year's Oscars seemed to suffer from a crisis of confidence. Although studded with entertaining and emotional moments, it just never seemed to get going.

The pacing problem began almost immediately. Although we knew going in there would be two hosts, we weren't prepared for three openers: An introductory tableau of the Best Actor and Actress nominees was followed by a lamentable song and dance number by Neil Patrick Harris. (It wasn't his fault; the song was just terrible, though the be-feathered Vegas show girls were fun). Then hosts Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin descended from the sky to warm up the audience with a little insider teasing.

The two were, as expected, the best hosts the show has had in years. Martin could have been in his living room and Baldwin, who at first seemed a bit nervous, calmed down the minute his first big line landed: "That cutaway of James Cameron just earned $3 million (Dh11 million).

Edgy jokes

They worked their way through the nominees with moderately edgy jokes that sometimes worked.

Yes, there were too many Meryl Streep references and shots of a stone-faced George Clooney, but Martin and Baldwin were fine and funny throughout. They were unafraid to appear in a double Snuggie backstage and introduced presenters with flair — "He directed A Single Man, she weighs a single pound, Tom Ford and Sarah Jessica Parker" — and did their best to keep things moving.

Only things didn't quite. And though it would be easy to blame the decision to honour the best score nominees through interpretative dance, the show's heavy-footedness instead appeared to be simple stage management.

There was a lot of incremental dead air, and not just during Jeff Bridges acceptance speech. It's a big stage and we seemed to spend a lot of time looking at it empty. Presenters took a long time to enter and exit, and there seemed to be a rule about this happening simultaneously. Occasionally people didn't seem to know quite where to go.

The acceptance speeches were so exceptionally short that one wondered what sort of threat had been made at the nominees luncheon.

With the exception of Ben Stiller presenting the award for best make-up in full Na'vi, down to the tail, the show was remarkably uncluttered, free of pre-taped segments and non-sequitur skits.

As for dragging young eyes to the screen, teens and tweens got a fun tribute to horror and presenters so young that several of them haven't quite learned the importance of good posture, particularly at the Academy Awards (Miley Cyrus and Kristen Stewart, I'm talking to you.)

Watching Gabourey Sidibe's face bathed in Oprah Winfrey's praise was undoubtedly the high point of the evening. Sandra Bullock's emotional and hilarious speech, in which she thanked, among many others, those who supported her when "it was not fashionable," was certainly a close second.

As always, the last half hour of the show seemed to move the fastest, with the big awards, and surprises, occurring one after the other.

But even then, pacing was an issue — Tom Hanks announced the Best Picture winner so abruptly that it took a few seconds for even those who made The Hurt Locker to realise they had won.

Fawcett missed out

The absence of Farrah Fawcett from the traditional "in memoriam" segment was causing some to scratch their heads.

Fawcett, who died in June at the age of 62, was notably left out of the tribute, which was accompanied by James Taylor singing The Beatles' In My Life.

There are often quibbles with the selections for the Oscar memoriam, but Fawcett's credits - and her notoriety - would seem to qualify her for the tribute. The montage also included Michael Jackson, whose predominant medium certainly wasn't theatrically released movies.

Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences spokeswoman Leslie Unger said, "Every year it's an unfortunate reality that we can't include everybody."
 -AP

That's why we love clooney

There are many reasons why George Clooney is one of the most popular stars in Hollywood: the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles, his soothing voice and his deep brown eyes.

But he's also one of the most generous celebrities on the Oscars red carpet. He bounded across the red ropes to the bleachers with a pen in hand, ready to shake hands and sign autographs. The fans leaped out of their seats to get a glimpse of him, pressing toward the carpet that ran into the Kodak Theatre. After he signed a woman's security badge, she held it up in the air triumphantly and fans cheered for her.

Clooney went into Sunday's Academy Awards with a good idea of what wasn't going to happen for him and his nominated Up in the Air co-stars Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick.

"It's probably not going to be Vera or Anna, and it's certainly not going to be me," he said on the red carpet before going into the Kodak Theatre.
 -AP

Huges high school reunion

John Hughes' film message is simple - the kids are all right.

His young heroes were certainly confused, frustrated and angry, but they ultimately proved steely enough to triumph over the often cruel peer pressure and stifling confinement of suburban life. That ethos animated the Oscars during a poignant tribute to Hughes, who died in August at age 59 and whose body of work as a writer and director is credited with humorously capturing the teen angst of the '80s generation.
 
The salute to the reclusive Chicago-based Hughes, who kept a distance from Hollywood, featured clips from his popular teen comedies such as Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and The Breakfast Club. The occasion brought together many of the stars of Hughes' films including Molly Ringwald, Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall and Ally Sheedy.

The tribute also featured clips of Hughes talking about his desire to show "the pressure of learning how to belong" during adolescence.

Macaulay Culkin, who starred in Home Alone, said Hughes "always treated me with dignity - even a 9-year-old version of myself."
- Los Angeles Times