San Francisco’s Palace of Fine Arts
Anne and I watched the Academy Awards last night. Maybe watching is a bit of an understatement, because our take on the Oscars was quite interactive. We played bingo together and I ‘live tweeted’ the night away. We tuned into the Red Carpet show, interrupted our viewing for dinner, and then dove back in after clearing the dishes. We each had a pair of Red Carpet show bingo cards.
Much like the show itself, the squares on our cards were dominated with who they are and what they wore. Anne and I are of the same age demographic and we share similar tastes, so we were equally clueless about most of the fashion and likewise many of the Hollywood personalities. We waited for the Red Carpet interviewer to name the celebrity and then ask what they were wearing. I was amused that Anne Hathaway wore Prada. Fortunately, I strung together enough generic squares (sequins, feathers and lapel pin) and won with Hugh Jackman. Anne continued playing and was eventually awarded both second and third place. I balked at giving her fourth and fifth places and told her to give it a rest, when the awards show proper began. By that time I had switched to my Academy Awards bingo card.
I could tell that we were about to witness a slow-motion train wreck (three and a half hours plus), when Captain Kirk returned from the future. Anne wished she had William Shatner on her card, so that she could have crossed him out. I had to agree with her, what a pair of boobs. We had no idea who Seth MacFarlane was and it wasn’t until much later that the mystery squares, Stewie’s voice and “Family Guy” became clear. We were familiar with the cartoon show and its character, but we had no idea that MacFarlane was its creator. By the time that we figured it out, these blockers had become irrelevant.
Working through the animated awards, which we had seen the winners, “Paperman” and “Brave”, both Disney offerings, it was clear that Anne was in the lead. Then we sailed into the Academy’s doldrums that long middle stretch of technical and boring awards, before the big finale. Anne hadn’t trained for the Oscars like I had. I had a Sunday afternoon nap. Sometime after the “Les Miz” sequence, I noticed that her eyes were closed. I knew that she had tuned out, when the one square that she needed to win, “thanks the Lord” occurred without her noticing. Adele’s co-winner said, “God thank the Academy”. I woke Anne to the news and she responded with, “Bingo!” I did the right thing, but I would have won on the next award, when Jennifer Lawrence slipped while mounting the stage.
Half an hour behind schedule, the big awards came in a rush. I thought that Tarantino was an ass, but maybe that’s just his schtick. I thought that Daniel Day-Lewis’ gag about switching roles with Meryl Streep (his presenter), “I was all set to play Maggie Thatcher, and she was Steven’s first choice for ‘Lincoln’” was strange, but the rest of his acceptance speech was great. Mini Abe and I both liked this notorious method actor’s apology to his wife for the strange cast of characters that have invaded their marriage.
I was rooting for “Lincoln”, but the cards seemed to be falling “Argo’s” way. When it came down to the wire, I was as surprised as everyone when Michelle Obama came online to announce the winner. I held out hope that my wish would come true, but like so many other Hollywood wishes, mine were dashed. I’ll just have to rent, “Argo”, “Life of Pi”, “Silver Linings Playbook”, etc.