MacGruber (2010)

Spoilers. But do you really care?

The fact that Will Forte, John Solomon, and director Jorma Taccone took a one-joke sketch from SNL and turned into a feature-length movie that is only half-bad is admirable. The original sketch spoofed MacGyver, a show I'm not terribly familiar with, and locked Will Forte, Kristen Wiig, and a random guest star in a non-descript location while the threat of a bomb going off was imminent (Wiig's only duty was to remind MacGruber of the countdown). The sketches are all about a minute long, are pretty funny, and always end with the bomb exploding and everyone dying.

Val Kilmer plays the villain of the film, Dieter von Cunth, and once you hear that name you can pretty much telegraph the trajectory of the rest of the picture. The film is filled with wall-to-wall raunch, some of it funny, most of it not. MacGruber is called into action when Dieter steals some missile, and he rounds up his old team of "Killer-Stoppers," which mainly consist of WWE wrestlers. Their fate is one of the movie's inspired moments, and forces MacGruber to recruit the much-less-80s Lt. Dixon Piper (Ryan Phillippe), and his old flame's friend, Vicki (Kristen Wiig, in the same role as the show).

The movie gets some mileage out of the joke that MacGruber's accomplishments are a bit exaggerated. He attempts to make a homemade grenade, which fails to work, and refuses to use guns only because "He never learned how." When he does finally fire a semi-automatic, he does so with glee, and wonders why he always bothered with those intricate gadgets in the first place.

But besides being a buffoon, MacGruber is also somewhat of a psychotic, disturbed man. A fellow driver insults his ride, and MacGruber memorizes the license plate of the offending vehicle. He even writes the plate down over and over in a steno book, and whether the audience is supposed to find this funny or disturbing is a bit of a mystery, though I assume it was supposed to be comedic. It was a bit more disturbing to me. When Mac finally finds the car, he burns it, and I guess we're supposed to feel good for him, but I didn't.

The origins of Dieter and Grubs' rivalry is also a tad more disturbing then you would expect. They were all friends in college, when MacGruber stole the woman Dieter was in love with and talked her into having an abortion (the apple of their eyes is Maya Rudolph), so Dieter retaliates by blowing up Maya Rudolph and their wedding. It's a backwards story, and I admire the filmmakers somewhat for making MacGruber not totally relatable, but he's still one messed-up guy.

But the movie's jokes are also hit-and-miss: MacGruber's technique of running around naked with celery sticking out his butt to distract guards is amusing, but not funny or worth repeating. And the sex scene between MacGruber and Vicki and then later the ghost of his dead wife are more annoying then funny (he makes love while hee-hawing), or the joke would be funny if it weren't played out so long.

But I also don't think the movie embraces its ridiculousness enough, and instead feels like its being restrained by its action-comedy quota. Wayne's World and The Blues Brothers are two terrific comedies that totally embrace absurdity, but also give us characters we more or less love, despite the fact that they're not really honorable. MacGruber isn't lovable, and instead can't seem to fully explore the realm of the absurd.

Part of the reason this movie flounders is that it feels like these men haven't grown-up at all. Immaturity is fine, but the script feels like it was written by a 13-year-old, though I firmly believe it was written by the 13-year-old spirits of the men who loved the 80s action movies they are spoofing, just injecting it with things their inner 13 would have found hilarious. That's fine, except this movie is rated R, and is a hard R, so adults will mostly come to see this (and frankly, 13-year-olds probably shouldn't. 14 is ok). Most of them will leave disappointed, but the few whose 13-year-old spirit still lives on in them will love it. I guess that means mine is dead.

Lost (2004 - 2010)

In the 24 hours since Lost came to a close I have spent some time pondering the conclusion of the hit television show that enthralled audiences for six years. I was not a member of that audience; I only started watch the show in March of 2009, so to say I am a true "Lostie" would be a lie. I jumped on the bandwagon at the very end of the run, but I can say Lost has been one of the single most interesting TV shows that has aired on television.

Before Lost's finale last night, a two-hour retrospective aired in which the whole show was recapped, with interviews of the cast and creators Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse. The word groundbreaking was used frequently to describe Lost's first year on air. I think it's sad that a show is bold when have of its episode is subtitled and that's considered challenging for American audiences.

But I will say Lost had the balls to go wherever they pleased and not look back with any hesitation. Does the show make sense? Not in the least bit. We've learned what the island is, we've learned what Jacob was supposed to do, we learned what the Smoke Monster's deal was...yet we never learned what those damn numbers were, we never learned why Walt and Aaron were so important...indeed, we didn't learn much, and the answers they did give us were a mite disappointing.

I am disappointed Lost never answered all these questions? No, I can't say I am. The writers clearly had plans for some things and improvised with most of it, and the answers to what the whispers were and who the Adam & Eve skeletons were were not only letdowns, but killed the mythology of everything. I think Lost gets replay value out of going back and studying what happened and deducing your own theories. Honestly, what you assumed happened will be the only answer that satisfies you. Cuse and Lindelof proved that if they answered everything it ruin the show more then it even has.

This hasn't been much of a review of the series at all, but I am making the safe assumption that if you decided to read this, you know what Lost is all about. Was the finale ultimately satisfying? I guess so. It was nice to see all the characters come together and have one last moment, and the bookend of the show was also a very well-executed moment. I did find the ultimate resolution of the flash-sideways universe a little hokey, though, even by Lost's standards. The show has been deeply rooted in spirituality versus science, and it seems spirituality wins out, though thankfully Cuse and Lindelof never explicitly state if the characters are going to heaven or not. Some of them I would assume have earned their ticket to hell, but they are in the melting pot church of religious ideals, and that is a nice message to send out. Religion only works if they can all agree to live together, but since that is against most of the basic tenants of religions, it'll never work.

Lots of fans and the creators themselves say the show has never been about the mysteries, it's been about the characters. Well, I agree, in the first three seasons that is. Season Four onwards focuses largely on the island, the mythology, and while the characters are wrapped up in flash-forwards, time travel, and flash-sideways (I mean purgatory) the show lost its character-driven focus, especially in the action packed Season Five. Six was an attempt to return to that, and while it was nice to see the Lost survivors living out a life somewhat happier then their former ones, and wasn't really the same until they realized that this reality was false.

To Lost's credit, the ending is going to be examined and debated for a while, until the dust settles and a new show rears its head. I remember the creators stating at the beginning of the season that they had to make the ending memorable. What do you remember about Six Feet Under's last season? The Sopranos? The ending of course. You barely remember what went down in those final seasons, you just remember how satisfied or unsatisfied you were when the story ended (abruptly, in one case). Well, everyone is going to remember this finale.

Me? I'm in the middle. I've read comments from the people who love it, I've read comments from the people who hate it. There was no way they were going to create a finale that was going to satisfy everyone anyways, so why not be as polarizing as you can be? I will say this about Lost: it is the ultimate example of people having creative freedom to do what they want. People call the show stupid, and yeah, I agree that some ridiculously crazy and asinine things happen on the show. But these were people who took the show wherever they wanted, and I admire them for that. It's good to have something like this every once in awhile; a show that doesn't take itself too seriously and instead is willing to embrace and go places television hasn't gone and probably will never go again.

The Wire (2002 - 2008)

"You remember that one day summer past? When we threw them piss balloons at them Terrace Boys? You remember, just before school started up again. You know, I took a beat down from them boys. I don't even throw a shadow on it. That was the day y'all bought me ice cream off the truck. You remember, Mike?"

"I don't."

The quote above captures the essence of what The Wire is all about. It's a show about cops, a show about drugs, a show about politics and all the areas in between. It doesn't portray all the drug dealers in a negative light, though it certainly doesn't ask you to sympathize for them, just to understand their situation. The quote above happens near the end of Season Five, as two kids we've followed since Season Four, Michael (Tristan Wilds) and Dukie (Jermaine Crawford) are about to separate due to unforeseen events. The show is filled with moments like these, and this one stands above as a defining moment of these characters.

The show's main character, if any, is Det. Jimmy McNulty (Dominic West), a renegade cop who goes outside the system and pisses people off to get the results he needs. And though this character is a cliché from most every other renegade cop movie, the difference is McNulty pays for his deeds, and though he produces results more often then not the bosses are so angry at him for what he's done that they kick him out of the unit.

The show is about, of course, wire taps, and they are the centerpiece in all the seasons. The show gets a bit redundant as we watch the Major Crimes unit attempt to set-up a wire tap, get it up, have it pulled, and then fight to get it up again. Just a few of the characters that come through this unit include Lester Freamon (Clarke Peters), Kima Greggs (Sonja Sohn), Cedric Daniels (Lance Reddick), and Sydnor (Corey Parker Robinson). Freamon is the driving force of the unit, and is present for all wiretaps, the rest come and go.

Aside from the cops, there are also the street characters: the first season focuses on the wiretaps of the Avon Barksdale (Wood Harris) crew, as they run the West side of Baltimore, controlling the corners. In the Barksdale crew you get Stringer Bell (Idris Elba), D'Angelo (Larry Gillard, Jr.), Bodie (J.D. Williams), and Wallace (Michael B. Jordan). Together they paint the crowd of drug dealers who are more or less forced into this life because it is the only reality they know, and all their role models ended up in the exact same place.

And each season brought a different focus, either via wiretap or influence: Season One dealt with drugs, Season Two dealt with smuggling at the ports, Season Three focused on the political aspect of Baltimore, Season Four focused on the schools, and Season Five focused on the newspaper's role in Baltimore. Each time we are introduced to beautifully drawn new characters, whether it is Frank Sobotka (Chris Bauer), Thomas Carcetti (Aidan Gillen), the four boys Namond (Julito McCullum), Randy (Maestro Harrell), Michael and Dukie, or Gus (Clark Johnson, also the director for the show's pilot and final episodes, among others), each one is more interesting then the last.

The show is described as being realistic and some may proclaim it is too full of itself in the beginning. I would agree with that sentiment, but it is real and deals with real life. The happy endings rarely exist here, and by the time you get to Season Five virtually every gangster from Season One is gone, either dead or in prison. Things don't always go so well for the cops or politicians either, but they don't get screwed. But each season ends with an air of open endedness, as the characters are either sentenced, or the bad guys evade capturing. There are a few triumphs in the show, and they are indeed happy, but the show lets most of the other characters fail to get what they want. It is very true to life.

The show is filled with dozens of characters, and I want to briefly mention two characters who don't fit in with the cops, delears, politicians, or whatever: Bubbles (Andre Royo) and Omar (Michael K. Williams). Bubbles is a drug junkie, but also a CI to the Major Crimes unit, and he is perhaps the most interesting character in show. We watch him live through impossible moral situations, but I think what makes him the most empathetic character is he is a genuinely nice guy. Sure he steals things, he shoots up heroin, and does other dishonorable things, but Bubbles has a big heart and Andre Royo puts on one hell of a fantastic performance.

Omar, on the other hand, is the show's one plain awesome character. He lives outside the drug world, instead robbing Barksdale's stashes regularly and doing as he pleases. Omar is bonafide badassery, as his presence exudes fear over the entire populace. Everyone knows who he is, fears him, and wants to take him out. But the character couldn't get away with being a badass and still be good: Omar is sympathetic, if only because the Barksdale crew comes down on him harder then he could imagine in Season One, and you start liking him from that point on. True, he knows what the consequences are in his nature of business, but it doesn't make it any easier.

I could ramble on and on, and describe dozens of other characters I haven't mentioned or subplots that happen. But I will simply praise the show overall, and crown it's fourth season as the best season of the show. The four kids focused on in that season are all terrific actors, and give the viewer a good idea of how these teenagers are forced, from an early age, into the life of drugs and why they think they have no choice. They don't expect to live past 25 if they're lucky, and such a dictated short life is a sad one.

The writers do a terrific job of balancing all these characters in all these seasons, and giving you just enough of every storyline to keep you satisfied. If you go back to any of the latter seasons and just dissect the events of an episode, your head will spin with the amount of storytelling the writers accomplished so effortlessly (or so it seems). Knowing each character, their drive, what makes them them, is such a difficult task to accomplish and the writers have done it admirably. They also are not afraid to cast characters aside if they don't need them; indeed, McNulty appears rarely in the Fourth Season because the show has no reason to focus on him, and they are ok with that (Dominic West still gets first billing, though).

And the acting is so good that I forget these are not real people, that they don't exist. I would say that more for this show then any other I've seen, though The Sopranos and Six Feet Under both feature terrific ensemble casts and convinced me these were real people. But all these actors are terrific, and to find so many great actors for a such a wide reaching show is quite an accomplishment. I never research a show while I'm watching it because once I see the actor interviews or the director interviews, I'm reminded that this is a show, it doesn't exist, and that kills a bit of the magic for me. Maintaining that illusion through these five incredible HBO shows is something I feel I've done rather well.

So is this the greatest television show ever made? Indeed I may have to say its close. While the HBO kin The Sorpanos and Six Feet Under are both equally great, both suffered from less-then-stellar final seasons (though the endings to both shows, particularly Six Feet Under's, are incredible). The Wire's weakest season is its first, I believe, and it gets better and better until it reaches a pinnacle with its penultimate season. The fifth season, though terrific, is more exaggerated then we're used to, but, in the end, David Chase, the creator of this show, has made some of the finest television I've ever seen. I don't know if I can hope to find a show better then this.

South Park: Censored

Last night I returned home, eagerly anticipating the episode "201," a conclusion to last week's 200th episode special. I missed the original airing and caught the re-air that occurs ever Wednesday two hours after the initial one. I was slightly surprised it was a recent episode, "The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerBalls" and thought maybe this was a joke: after all, I had thought South Park might not air the episode like they did 12 years ago to pull an April Fool's Prank.

Now I see that that is not the case. Comedy Central pulled the re-airing and as far as I've heard have pulled all scheduled re-airings for the next week. Why, you may ask?

It all has to do with the Prophet Mohammed. Remember back in 2006, when a Danish cartoonist depicted the Prophet and incited the unholy wrath of a bunch of pissed-off extremists? Well, South Park aired a two-part episode called "Cartoon Wars" in which the show Family Guy is coming under fire for trying to air the image. The episodes raised great questions on the limits on what is and what isn't ok to show on TV, and how you set that precedent. The episode ends with Family Guy depicting the image, though ironically Comedy Central wouldn't allow the image to be shown.

Why is it ironic? Back in 2001, South Park aired an episode titled "Super Best Friends" in which Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, Lao Tsu, Sea Man, Joseph Smith, and yes, Mohammed, all teamed up to fight an evil David Blaine. Back then, no one cared. True, it was two months before 9/11, but Comedy Central set precedent that Mohammed was ok to show. And even after the "Cartoon Wars" episodes, "Super Best Friends" was re-aired on syndicated television (I know because I saw the episode on CW channel).

So that brings us to now. Last week, to commemorate their 200th episode, South Park went back and rehashed a lot of old jokes, one of them being the Mohammed controversy. The episode ended with Mohammed dressed in a bear suit, as the townspeople debate what to do with him. During the week in between episodes, a radical website called Revolution Muslim posted a note saying that Matt and Trey better watch out or they'll end up like Theo van Gogh. Van Gogh was a documentary filmmaker who made a film about Islamic abuse of women, and was killed by extremists in Amsterdam in 2004.

Though I wasn't able to watch the episode live, I did find it online and watched it there. I was surprised that the word Mohammed altogether had been bleeped completely. I assumed it was a joke and Matt and Trey's part, as did most of the Internet community. Additionally, the character Kyle gives a speech on what was learned, yet that was bleeped out completely. That, again, I assumed to be a joke.

Today, it was revealed that Comedy Central added the bleeps over Mohammed's name to protect Matt and Trey, and Matt and Trey later released a statement saying Comedy Central bleeped out the end speech as well. The episode isn't available uncensored, as all episodes are, for the show's website: instead, there is a note saying that Comedy Central won't allow them to put it up.

Now, I understand why Comedy Central wouldn't let the image of the Holy Prophet be broadcast: they were trying to protect the staff of South Park, who would all be in as much danger as Matt or Trey if these threats were somehow became real. But I think it is the start of a terrible chain reaction that they bleeped Mohammed's name from even being uttered. Muslims have no problem with his name! They say it all the time! And Mohammed spent the whole episode behind a black censored bar (which I firmly believe Matt and Trey put in there) and didn't say anything this week! Why bleep his name? And why bleep the end speech, in which Mohammed apparently wasn't mentioned but about intimidation and fear.

Even the episode "Super Best Friends" isn't on the South Park website anymore. It's gone. Kapoot. Luckily I own season 5 on DVD, and there are dozen other places you can find the episode. But still, it is a terrible move on CC's part. Last time Mohammed wasn't shown, Matt and Trey showed Jesus and George Bush shitting on each other, poop-a-flyin'. This week, Buddha snorts coke and Jesus is accused of watching Internet Porn. Comedy Central has now set the standard South Park warned against four years ago: if you give in to threats, then soon more people will threaten you. It will start a landslide until, boom, you can't do anything taboo anymore.

Ultimately, I'm not calling for the episode to air with Mohammed uncensored. I don't think that will ever happen. But the episode should become available without Mohammed's name or the end speech censored. It's just ridiculous and doesn't make sense. The name isn't the thing forbidden, it's the image. I'm quite interested to see what South Park does next week for it's mid-season finale.

Kick-Ass (2010)

Kick-Ass starts out with a noble goal: "Why hasn't anyone ever tried to be a superhero before?" inquires the hero, Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson). "Probably because they'd get their ass kicked," responds one of his friends. And when Dave first dons the outfit of Kick-Ass, he does get his ass thoroughly kicked, so much so that he nears death. You'd think this would stop him, but instead it screws up his nerves so that he can't feel pain as much and can endure more.

Dave is a normal High School nerd who dreams of the hot girl (Lyndsy Fonseca) and whacks off daily, with an ever-expanding collection of comic books. Fed up with getting pushed around, he becomes Kick-Ass, with the hope to do good, though he fully acknowledges he has no reason to seek vengeance: no murdered parents or otherwise.

It is sad then that the movie's best characters, Big Daddy (Nicolas Cage) and Hit Girl (Chloë Grace Moretz) conform to the conventions of the comic book. Big Daddy is seeking revenge for one reason or another, and has trained his daughter to become a totally bad-ass killer. Yet in a movie that is trying to convey realism, it is these characters that shatter that realistic barrier, taking on dozens of villains by themselves and standing victorious over them all. And while their scenes of kick-assery provide much of the movies action thrills, I was more interested in Dave's story of grappling with the responsibility of being a superhero, rather then Big Daddy's quest to take revenge on Mob Boss Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong).

Some people may find the notion of Hit Girl altogether unsettling and quite disturbing. She is, after all, a kid who kills dozens upon dozens of people. And superheroes traditionally don't kill when they have to, right? I have no moral qualms over her actions (does that make me a bad person? Maybe so), but I think the movie has a bad sense of timing in the fun it's going after. In the first scene when we see Hit Girl annihilate a crowd of baddies, it is completely awe-inspiring. But when she storms D'Amico's New York penthouse to Joan Jett's Bad Reputation, the stakes have changed, and the fun factor is all but null. In fact, when Hit Girl is getting her ass kicked, it seems like the movie is still going for laughs. What?

I really enjoyed the movie, but I can't help but pick apart it's inconsistencies, and I have one more complaint: the movie seemed to be heading in a totally unexpected direction, and for a good minute I thought that this movie would do the unexpected. But, alas, it conforms to the clichés of the genre and disappointed me somewhat. While the tone of the film would have been much darker, I think it would have been a bold way of challenging audiences. Just saying, I think they pussed out.

But, overall, the movie is still a fun entertainment. It succeeds more then the film version of Watchmen (2009) did of examining the life of a superhero, so that's something. But, in the end, it's not near the satire it quite wants to be.

Pygmalion (1938)

People often say that there is no original work, that something had to stem from somewhere and everything is based off of something that came before it. OK, this is true a lot of times, but there are some instances where someone really used their imagination to take some original material and transform it into a great story set in then-modern times. Take the mythological story Pygmalion: it tells of a sculptor who had no interest in women, but carved sculptures of them, until one day he fell in love with one of his own sculptures. Praying to Aphrodite, or Venus, depending on which way you look at it, she took pity on him and brought the statue to life.

Henry Higgins (Leslie Howard) is obviously drawn to be comparable to Pygmalion: he seems to have no interest in women, yet obsesses over dialects and proper speech. He takes on the challenge of turning the lowly Eliza Doolittle (Wendy Hiller) into a lady, with proper speech and accent and all. And, of course, he comes to love her.

Movies back in the day liked to spell out their themes or references for the audience; after all, people didn't have access to the Internet and its wide bank of knowledge. The story of Pygmalion is told to us through text, at the beginning, so that we may know exactly what the filmmakers are aiming for and what their true intentions are. Today, no such scroll would precede the movie, and audiences would be forced to look up Pygmalion and discover the title's source.

The movie is exceptionally well made and is better, I think, then the musical My Fair Lady that came out 27 years later (the film version, anyways). For one, it's an hour shorter, and while I have no problems with long movies, I didn't feel that the plot supported the length. Here too the movie seems to meander, and it is only slightly over 90 minutes!

But the performances are also very good. Wendy Hiller and Leslie Howard may be no Audrey Hepburn or Rex Harrison, but they still deliver thoughtful performances and their chemistry lights up the screen. As we watch Eliza progress, we care about what happens to her. There is a hilarious scene where she tries out her new dialect, and speaks in tongue twisters as if they were normal conversation. The subsequent reactions to this are priceless.

Part of what drags the story of Pygmalion down, for me, is everything that happens after the ball scene. The whole movie builds up to that point, and then continues for an extra thirty minutes (My Fair Lady goes on for another hour). It's such a great scene, and the buildup is worth it. The Queen employs a former pupil of Higgins to find out where Ms. Doolittle is from, and he makes the astute observation that "...only people who are taught English can speak it well."

The movie delivers an important message of women being just more then objects, as evidenced by Higgins' treatment of Ms. Doolittle. Early on Higgins' assistant refers to her as "Ms. Doolittle," and that level of respect makes her smile. Of course, Henry sees her only as Pygmalion saw his creations: as statues. Until she comes to life and fights for herself, he continues to disrespect her.

All versions have a particularly odd ending, as Eliza returns to Henry after leaving him, and he really realizes he is in love with her. Upon her return, he simply states, "Where the devil are my slippers, Eliza?" I accept that as a game that they are playing with each other, by the end, and that Higgins really does have newfound respect for Eliza.

One note: David Lean, the acclaimed director of Lawrence of Arabia and several other epics, was the editor on this film. One should note he was an editor for several films before he broke out into the directing world, and didn't edit again until his final movie, A Passage to India. Just a fun note. I spotted his name in the credits.

82nd Annual Academy Awards: Morning After Thoughts

Man, that ceremony seems like one bad dream.

Part of the reason is that I got drunk last night watching the show, but it also has to do with just how bad the show was put on. Opening with a strange parade of the 10 lead actors up for an award and displaying them for all the world to see was one of the most miscalculated decisions I've seen in awhile. This was followed by a totally misfired musical number starring Neil Patrick Harris, who is a funny guy. Go to YouTube and find some of his Tony Awards antics, they are hysterical. But here, his number introducing Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin, as well as making fun of some of the nominees, was unmemorable and just plain awful.

Then down came our hosts, lowered from the rafters of the stage, and as they came out and began their rapport, I realized what a miscalculated decision this co-hosting job was. Martin lead most of the jokes, with Baldwin following suit. Baldwin looked uncomfortable up there, and it was more obvious then ever that the lines were scripted. The problem with two co-hosts is it makes improvisation harder, especially when they don't have a good chemistry. That is what the two lacked as well; a Colbert/Stewart pairing would fire up some great chemistry, or any number of, but these two are obviously funnier when there's an editor in the chair choosing their best lines.

Christoph Waltz's win was expected, as was Pete Doctor's for Up and T-Bone Burnett for Crazy Heart. Screenplay went with the WGA, so I guess Tarantino isn't as liked by his peers as we thought he was. Mark Boal still gave a rousing speech.

Then there was an unexpected but very sweet tribute to John Hughes, who died this past year. Matthew Broderick, Molly Ringwald, Macauly Culkin, and many others came out onstage and a very touching montage was shown of all his films. I've never been the biggest Hughes fan myself (Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is my favorite of his), but I recognize what makes him so loved, and he deserved these minutes. It came in place of the usual Honorary Award, which they didn't hand out this year, so I'm guessing this is who they meant it for.

In the short films I keep learning different lessons; Logorama won, which I thought was the best, and I guess I should have gone with my favorite from the Live-Action, The New Tenants. I thought for sure the Academy would take the bait Chernobyl, but I guess like Six Shooter, you should always go for the film that ends in bloodshed. And fuck Documentary Short; if there's anything I learned this year, it is to not even listen to what other people are picking and select a random title. I did it two years ago and got it right, and it is what I will continue doing.

Ben Stiller in Na'Vi makeup was a highlight of the night. Much better then his miscalculated Joaquin Phoenix impersonation, he fully embodied the character of the Na'Vi. Ironically, he pointed out, Avatar was not up for Makeup, and maybe he should have worn Spock ears. And the makeup was so good that I kind of wish Avatar had combined more of that. Stiller proved that actors have the most intense eyes, and are more alive then any computer will be able to imitate. Then Star Trek won, which is no surprise.

Then the biggest upset of the night, won that I don't think any official prognosticator saw coming: Precious upset Up in the Air for Best Adapted Screenplay, and a very emotionally overwhelmed Geoffrey Fletcher and gave probably the most passionate speech of the night. His upset was very unexpected, and I'm still trying to figure out how it happened. Up in the Air was so certain! But hey, that's why we watch, because there is always one big upset.

Avatar and The Young Victoria won Art Direction and Costume Design, respectively, and then Zac Efron and Anna Kendrick came out to distribute the Sound awards. We got a very funny clip narrated by Morgan Freeman about the Sound work in The Dark Knight, and clarifying for us what exactly the difference is. I've done Sound work and I even have a had time telling. The Hurt Locker surprisingly won both awards (I was sure Avatar was going to win one of them, so I put it down for both). That guy was strange.

Martin and Baldwin showed an amusing Paranormal Activity spoof of them to introduce the Horror montage. Kristen Stewart and Taylor Lautner came and made the introduction proper, though I noticed Stewart seemed either really nervous, or strung out on drugs. Or both, she is Joan Jett in the new movie The Runaways. The Horror montage was great, though one of them said Horror has been little recognized since The Exorcist more then 30 years ago. Excuse me, but what about The Silence of the Lambs winning Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, and Screenplay a mere 19 years ago? Horror isn't under-recognized, it's just done bad most of the time.

Mauro Fiore became another famous alum of my college Columbia College Chicago to win an Academy Award for Cinematography (for Avatar) though I still feel you shouldn't win for a movie that was created mostly in a computer. Following this was as a very odd interpretive dance to all the Original Score nominees, followed by Michael Giacchino winning for Up. Well deserved, well deserved.

Avatar wins visual effects, easily the most locked category of the night. The Cove wins best Documentary, and Ric O'Berra comes onstage and holds up a sign that says "Text Dolphin to 41....something something". I couldn't tell because the cameras quickly cut away to a shot of the audience, which made me mad. Let Mr. O'Berra, who is fighting for something he believes in, to have his moment in the spotlight.

Tyler Perry handed out Film Editing, and made fun of himself for probably never being able to hear his name again at the Oscars (I guess I can appreciate someone who knows their work isn't great). The Hurt Locker won, of course. Pedro Almodovar and Quentin Tarantino handed out the Best Foreign Language Oscar to El Secreto de Sus Ojos, which I haven't seen and merely predicted on the hunch that you can't go with anything that's already out. Finally, the final four, and the Oscars hit the 210 minute mark, already over-running their length.

They continued having people talk about the Actors, which I liked, and this time they made it old friends of the Nominees, rather then famous movie stars who might have nothing to do with the person they are taking about. Michelle Pfeiffer introduced Jeff Bridges, Vera Farmiga talked about George Clooney, Julianne Moore about Colin Firth, Tim Robbins about Morgan Freeman, and Colin Farrell about Jeremy Renner. Jeff Bridges won.

For Actress, Forest Whitaker introduces Sandra Bullock, Michael Sheen about Helen Mirren, Peter Skarsgaard about Carey Mulligan, Stanley Tucci about Meryl Streep, and Oprah about Gabourey Sidibe. Sandra Bullock, as expected, won. She said she wasn't going to cry (they all do), but she broke down a bit at the end. I've grown to like her as this Awards Season pressed on, but I still don't think she deserved it.

Then Oscar officially made history with Barbra Streisand walking to welcome the first female director ever into the white boys club. I think it would have been hilarious if Lee Daniels or Jim Cameron had won instead. Barbra makes the moment fairly epic; as she opened the card she paused and then said, "Well, the time has come, Kathryn Bigelow." She was great, and I was very happy she won.

Now the Oscars were 30 minutes into overtime, so Tom Hanks simply came out and opened the envelope. No recap of the ten nominees at all, he just came out, ripped open that envelope, and announced The Hurt Locker for Best Picture. Kathryn Bigelow was too stunned to give a speech, so Mark Boal spoke for her. It was proud moment that exemplifies the Academy honors what really is a great movie, not merely a great spectacle.

But overall this show as a step-back from last year. My advice: bring back Stewart, cut out all musical numbers. That would help. These shows can seem long and it doesn't help that the co-stars weren't funny.

UNTIL NEXT YEAR!