Post Oscar Blah Blah

So another year, another Academy Awards, and I have to say that this one was pretty damn dull. Atleast from what I saw. As usual I found myself at the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse for their Oscar Night shindig along with my Punch Drunk cohort John and our significant others. We didn't even bother trying to liveblog this thing. Not just because the internet connection was non-existent(and as our waitress informed us, we weren't allowed the super secret ACDH internet password), but because our tables are so inhumanly small that I'm convinced they were expecting the Hobbit Convention last night and not a bunch of human sized filmgeeks.

Typical rules applied, as the uber film nerds(yes, bigger than me) arrived approximately at noon to sit in the very front row where they could stare at the gleam off Bill Henry's ostrich egg shaped dome. Either that or they wanted to be the very first people to hear his and Joe Barber's ultra lame jokes unfiltered by the groans of dozens of other listeners.

Ok, a few random thoughts:

-As much as I love the Drafthouse, their wait staff scares me. I think this is the third year in a row I've had the mohawked(?) tattooed guy who looks vaguely like Sean Bateman, if he went punk-lite. Atleast his service was decent.

-I got a chance to meet one of my Twitter followers(and occasional site commenter) Nate Eagle. He seems like a pretty cool dude, and his Tweets are always insightful and often humorous. If he ain't on your list, mark him down. Plus how can you not respect a dude who's still rockin' the Batman shirt from the '89 film?

-I think I caught a glimpse of the Alexandria Movie Meetup Group down in the front row. I could've gone to the show with them, but ultimately declined in favor of chillin' with a small group of movie nerds rather than a whole army. One of these days I'll actually go see a movie with them.

-The auction prizes for this year? WEAK!! I wasn't compelled to overpay for anything this year! You think I'm gonna pay nearly $100 for a Slumdog Millionaire poster signed by my directing idol Danny Boyle or a The Wrestler poster signed by Aronofsky and Marisa Tomei whom I was like four feet away from one day and got to smell her perfume and see her awesome "fuck me" pumps? Absolutely not! (Travis <----jealous he lost)

-I tweeted yesterday that Hugh Jackman would end up being one of the best hosts the Oscars ever had, but in actuality he was pretty blah. I couldn't dig the old Hollywood feel of the whole show.

-Isn't there some kind of unspoken rule against acknowledging Cuba Gooding's Oscar for Jerry Maguire? Putting him up there amongst that crew of legitimate winners only made him stand out like a roach on a friggin' cloud. Boat Trip, people. Fucking Boat Trip. Or Chill Factor. Look 'em up. What was ironic was that he was attempting to act upset over Robert Downey acting like a white guy playing a black guy, and he couldn't pull even that off. You know he's really pissed. Cuba can't even get good roles playing black characters these days. He's waiting patiently for a sequel to The Fighting Temptations, I'm sure.

-That chick from Slumdog Millionaire? Hot. Evan Rachel Wood? Not. She looked like a previously used cotton swab.

-Would someone tell Tilda Swinton that women are intended to wear dresses to the event and not mystic shrouds of unknown origin. This isn't Constantine. You can dress like a lady here.