No, I didn’t stay up to watch the Oscars. I’ve attempted it a couple of times in the past, but I’m too old for that now. Most years I tape them, avoid the media during the following day, and watch them the following evening. This year, with way too much work to do today to watch them during daylight hours, I’ve had to let them go. It’s almost impossible to avoid the results, Bob and Terry style – especially if you’re on the internet, which I am. So I’ve had the least glitzy, least heart-stopping, least effusive, least live set of Oscars ever and just read the winners on the BBC News website as I ate my Polish sausage, boiled egg and smoked salmon breakfast [well, at least telling you that saves me being on Twitter]. My experience of the Oscars has been, literally, speechless.
I’m delighted for Slumdog Millionaire, of course, which won eight. It was their night. (It might not be a “feel-good film” but it’s a feel-good story for a film that almost went straight to DVD in the States.) However, its success confirms the 81st Academy Awards to have been surely the most predictable in all the years I’ve been watching them. Danny Boyle, Kate Winslet, Heath Ledger, Penelope Cruz, best makeup for Benjamin Button etc. The only upset – and one that I think I could secretly see coming – was Sean Penn winning for the excellent Milk. He fully deserves an Oscar for that performance, but I was hoping Mickey Rourke would make the hat-trick. It was not to be.
Objectively – and selfishly – I don’t like it when one film sweeps the board. I prefer surprises. There don’t seem to have been many while I was sleeping soundly in my bed.