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In the old phrase, there's no arguing about taste. That said, I wonder why people who actively hate the Oscars bother watching them. And Wilson: you're getting paid to do this, get some perspective, take a deep breath, and think about it: the Oscars for the past few years have been restrained, entrenched, and really boring. I found this year to be a wonderful exercise in non-polarizing, taking-the-high-ground activism. That's right, activism. The clip from "Goodnight and Good Luck" spoke volumes to any open ear: Don't blame Bush, blame yourselves, America! How more gutsy do you need to be? The gay Western montage (I happen to love montages, and find them the highlights of the show) deconstructed male stereotypes better than any graduate thesis over the past 20 years. The Swift-boating of Dame Judi Dench was satire at is most sublime, and the riff between Lily Tomlin and Merle Streep was like listening to a Mozart concerto. And Perlman made me cry, only to turn to laughter at Stewart's claim that he was "finger synching." The rap number and its consequent anarchic acceptance blew a fresh breeze through the proceedings.
I thought the evening was bold, principaled and at the same time dignified (a word that you should look up, Cintra-- don't be afraid of it). If the Democratic party had its act so well together, we might yet turn this mess around. The complainers seem to me part of the circular firing squad that keeps us under the right's thumb. Jesus, you guys, look up from your ego for a change! And Cintra, maybe you should drink less vinegar or something.
