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All Oscar, No Felix — This Year’s Show Wasn’t Half Bad For A Change

Perspective is universal. It’s everywhere. It’s everywhere.

Everybody’s got one. Everybody’s got one and it’s different from the next guy or gal.

That became abundantly clear — as if I didn’t already know — when chatting up folks this week in the wake of Sunday night’s Oscar giveaway. During the show, I turned to the Film Babe and opined that this was the most enjoyable Oscar show in years, the best since the halcyon days of Billy Crystal really. She nodded approval.

Then the topic came up the next day and a friend mentioned how B-O-R-I-N-G she thought it was. Then Son of Film Babe called from the Great White North and offered that he too was less than smitten with the whole deal.

Like I said, perspective, it’s everywhere. And everybody’s is different.

As for the show, let me just say this. Pilobolus Dance Troup is the best. I caught them on public television years ago, was dumbstruck, and have seen them perform live every chance I could. Which has been a couple of times. I love the way they climb all over each other, forming creatures and shapes, and being just generally pretty dang cool.

So I loved those little bits they did the other night behind the shadow screen. To the skeptics amongst you who might think those shadows weren’t just human forms, fuhgettaboutit. Pilobolus is all that.

Sure Ellen Degeneres dressed like a bowling alley hooker out on a real date with Thursday night league guy with a 213 average. But, hey, it worked. White pointy toe boots aren’t just for Southern Culture on the Skids ya know. Of course she wasn’t as guffaw funny as my man Billy C. Then again, she didn’t have Jack Palance doing one-armed pushups to play off of. The shtick in the audience with Clint Eastwood and Marty Scorcese was probably planned, but it worked anyway. Maybe the bit where she vacumed the carpet was forced, but I liked it. Those segments humanized the process and the glitz.

I’m glad Jack Nicholson’s reason for shaving his head is a movie role. ‘Cause it looks awful. Some of us can get away with the skinhead thing and some of us can’t, thank you very much.

For the most part, the women looked elegant. (You think you were going to get out of here without some comment on fashion. Geesh.) I like cleavage as much as the next guy, but the ladies this time out didn’t feel the need to force that issue. Good for them. Did you see the gal with the red dress on? Nicole Kidman can birdland all night long. (If you don’t get the reference, listen to Ray Charles’s original “What I Say?)

I’m not really one to cheer for actors or films to win the statuette. That Japanese gal in “Babel” sure did a hell of a job and I was kind of rooting for her, but Jennifer Hudson was also boffo. I do like to see justice done. And I can’t abide stories like that of Eddie Murphy, who was apparently so peeved he didn’t win Best Supporting Actor that he left the ceremonies early in a huff. Which is to say: Right on Alan Arkin. Dude, you won one for the cranky old farts.

“The Departed” was quality movie making, well deserving of the Oscar. The plot moved along. The acting and technique was of the highest order. And basically the Academy has owed Scorcese one since he was jobbed on “Raging Bull,” the best film made in the 80’s.

As for the Oscar parties, I didn’t get that invite to the Vanity Fair soiree. Even though I’m a subscriber. Nor to any goings on here in Louisville. Which was just fine. It was after midnight so I turned off the TV and had only a twenty step walk to slumber.

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