Red Carpet

Not too many surprises on "Hollywood's Biggest Night": The show seemed interminable (What? We're only at the nominees for Achievment in Sound Mixing?); the musical numbers were treacly crap; and we were once again reminded that Sean Penn has absolutely no sense of humor. What qualified for upsets were Eastwood beating Scorcese (deservedly, purely in the film vs. film match-up) and a song in Spanish winning.

I'm pissed mostly because I lost the Oscar predicting game, a contest close to my heart. There's always next year, though my straight ticket voting for The Aviator in the technical categories nearly saw me through. I tried something different this year, asking my uncle the gambler to give me the line in Vegas on the big categories. I was a quick convert after Vegas picked Sean Penn as the favorite over Bill Murray last year, but in 2005 I lost my shirt on both picture and director. So much for the infallibility of gambling; another of my illusions shattered.

If nothing else, I can take solace in the long overdue recognition of Charlie Kaufman for the best film he's written (so far), Eternal Sunshine. After being robbed by Alan Ball in 1999, his win and charmingly panicked acceptance speech made the evening worthwhile. That, and I laughed harder during Chris Rock's intro than with most of the past hosts combined (Whoopi, Dave, Steve--I'm looking your way). Ah, cinema!