:: Sunday, March 25, 2001 ::

 

1:22 p.m. Today, of course, is the female version of the Super Bowl: the Oscars. Beginning with the 3:00 wunderfest of those Rivers women on the red carpet, it's a TV viewing marathon that I thoroughly enjoy. So, I thought I'd better get this piece on its way before I settle in for a long indulge.

It's all about the dresses, of course, and what those dresses portend. The winners almost always look ... for want of a better term ... classic, at least for them. Look at any group of contenders and pick the woman whose outfit is turned down a notch, and you'll see tonight's winner.

It's especially true if the actress likes to dress to stress, usually. The year Susan Saranden won is the year she didn't overdo it. Ditto the girl from LA Confidential, whose name has gone missing right now. Blonde, model. I want to say Kim, but Catrell keeps coming to mind.

We'll let that go, for now. It's best not to think too hard. The frame of mind for ultimate enjoyment today is a light, skittish, slightly bitter-around the edges could-care-less. Amuse me, we all say. Shock and entertain me with your bad taste and excess. Get out there and display some desperation.

The most fun I've ever had watching the Oscars was a few years ago when we had the big dish satellite up and running and the networks were still sending out their wild feeds and delaying the broadcast for the West Coast. That's when you'd get the raw footage and you could watch the stars exchange places with the chair-warmers so they could run to the bathroom (and worse) during the commercials.

Those were the good old days before the Disney network began to clamp down on what was being filmed, and when. Now, I must content myself with my other favorite thing to do, and that's to watch the people *behind* the people being interviewed on the red carpet. If you watch the parade going by in the background, you're sure to see the formerly very famous watching the currently very famous, and their expressions are really worth the price of free admission.

You've heard that fame is fleeting -- if you look closely, you can actually watch it making its escape right before their dumbfounded faces.

10:38 p.m. Ah, well. Another Oscar evening is over and once again, it was far too tasteful to be much fun. Those who wear costumes always look odd: Juliette Binoche, and Ashley Judd, for instance. Very strained flappers. Wavy helmet hair. Doesn't work.

I did, however, like the swan. And Julia deserved the award for her dress, which was possibly one of the best I've ever seen. Front and back. Perfect hair, good job all around. Vintage Valentino. Can't be topped. Even if your top is see-through.