Oscars Miss the Mark

Uh, what was with the Oscars last night?  Was the close-up camera man sick?  Dead?  Ridiculously far-sighted?  Because those of at home were confused.  If there’s ever an occasion to get up close, I’d guess it would be the Oscars.  Much like a beauty pageant, contestants spend weeks if not months getting themselves ready for their moment of glory.  And yet we couldn’t see it.  Standing on a weird stage in the middle of the audience, actors would tell us about such and such a movie and I wouldn’t hear a word of it.  I was too busy squinting at the TV thinking too myself, who is that?  Not to mention the distracting light show or wall of lampshades that kept popping up in the background.  What was that all about?

Over at our house, guests kept yelling at the TV to get closer.  We didn’t care about what the floor or ceiling looked like; we wanted to know what the dress and makeup looked like.  Even men were hard to distinguish in their ubiquitous penguin suits.  Was that Ryan Reynolds or Justin Bateman up there?  All I could make out was the shape of a man in a tuxedo standing on a stage that was more appropriate for a rock concert than an award show.  I kept waiting for somebody playing a guitar to come out.  Unfortunately, at the distance the camera stayed, one might have and I never would’ve seen it.  And would someone please tell the producer of these things that the audience would rather allow the poor winners to talk than to see a 10 minute dancing montage?  I love dancing as much or perhaps even more than the next guy, but a hip hop/ballet/pop and lock/break-dancing ensemble to Best Original Song?  No thanks.

All in all, I give the Oscars an Eh for this year.  Someone was sleeping on the job.  On the pro-side, I liked Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin; they reminded me of the Odd Couple.  But maybe that’s just because I never quite saw them.  Cue lampshade wall.   Zoom out with camera.


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