Cru Jones Society

Welcome to the CJS Live Blog coverage of the 81^st Academy Awards! We’re live from CJS Headquarters in lovely downtown Denver accompanied by Lady E, our two cats Buttfor and Bumhug, and the Chinese food that took fucking forever to get here. We had planned on covering some of the red carpet festivities, but since I’ve never watched red carpet coverage before, I didn’t realize that nothing actually happens on these things. Plus, there are only so many “Hey, look how short that guy is!” jokes you can make before everyone gets sick of them.

I have only three things to say about red carpet coverage:

• Considering how freaking teeny Ryan Seacrest is, I’m disappointed and positively aghast at how diminutive Matthew Broderick is. Ferris Bueller you’re my (midget) hero. Seriously. And considering his wife looks like Secretariat, his entire appearance struck me as completely tragic.
• I hate when celebrities refer to other celebrities by something other than what we know. Example: Frank Langella talked about reminiscing with “Tony” Hopkins about their portrayals of Richard Nixon. Hey asshole, we don’t get to call him Tony, so you don’t get to either. I realize these people are probably just friends, but it feels like another way that people of stature attempt to exert their authority over us common folk. I realize this complaint is semi-ridiculous, but I don’t give a shit. I really fucking hate it when people talk about working with Bobby DeNiro. It’s Robert, and it’s Anthony when you’re on camera. Don’t forget it.
• Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are by far the most sought after couple on the red carpet. And they couldn’t care less about it. Brad Pitt looked like he was trying to get away from an insistent insurance salesman, and Angelina Jolie didn’t say anything all night. She just stood there with that pouty face of hers looking like she’s fighting the effects of taking a score of Quaaludes. If they somehow make it another five years of being this famous without going Howard Hughes crazy, I’ll be shocked.

A couple of quick notes before we get going here. Monday Confessional will appear on Tuesday once again this week, so if you have last minute submissions, maybe we’ll be nice and let you submit them until close of business Monday. But only if you ask nicely. What well-regarded movie do you hate that everyone else seems to love? We’ve had some good ones, but like a typical smack addict, WE WANT MORE DAMMIT! Send ‘em to staff@crujonessociety.com.

Secondly, Wednesday sees the CJS debut of our first Food, Sex, or Cars? winner R. He’s written a hilarious piece entitled, “Sport or Not? I Decide” which will (hopefully) settle some of the most common sports debates plaguing sports bar patrons all across the country. Keithage shows up on Thursday with “A Reflection on American Car Culture” from a dedicated gearhead. Both articles are so funny and so good, the two authors have virtually assured themselves of getting next year’s Food, Sex, or Cars? rigged against them so they don’t steal our thunder again. We bring the funny here, not you! I’m just kidding, we’d never do something like that. As far as you know.

But that’s later this week. Right now it’s time to critique some glamorous dresses, ogle some famous movie stars, and get riled up about undeserving award winners. In other words, it’s Lee S. Hart’s typical Sunday night. Since he’s likely off hosting his own fabulous Oscar party, you’re stuck with me. So let’s go to it…

6:30 – We’re live from the Kodak Theater and my Chinese food just fucking got here. Since we ordered at 5, I’m a little pissed that it took ‘em 90 goddamn minutes to drive less than 3 miles to bring us some lemon chicken, sesame chicken, and wontons. I have the DVR paused, so until I catch up, all times are approximate.

6:31 – This food is cold too. Where the hell was ass hat driving with our food?

6:31 – Hugh Jackman joins us looking more Kate & Leopold than X-Men. I suppose that’s to be expected given this audience, but I would have killed to see him with his chops in front of all the stuffy celebrities.

6:33 – Hugh’s got an easy charm as he welcomes us to the show and segues into a Billy Crystal-style musical number. The Craigslist dancers are funny, the rest is about like you’d expect. It’s fun in a breezy way and a nice change of pace from the smirking satire of guys like Chris Rock, Jon Stewart, and Steve Martin. Those guys were all way too hip for the show, and Jackman brings a silly, uninhibited self-confidence that’s extremely easy to watch.

6:39 – This bit has gone on for nearly 10 minutes, and I’m not ready to gouge out my own eyes. Jackman finishes the number by declaring in his best Broadway belt delivery, “I am Wolveriiiiiiine!” and brings the room to its feet. I’m as cynical as it gets when it comes to Oscar night, and even I’m ready to let Jackman put a baby in me after that performance. Good times.

6:42 – Jackman suspects Streep has been nominated so many times because of steroids. If Anne Hathaway shows up with old needles from The Devil Wears Prada, I’ll piss myself with glee.

6:43 – Here’s Whoopi Goldberg (dressed like an overstuffed chair in your tacky aunt’s living room), Goldie Hawn, Angelica Huston, Tilda Swinton, and someone I can’t remember to present the nominees for Best Supporting Actress in the most self-congratulatory and nauseating way. Hi, we’re actors and what we do is IMPORTANT. Ick. Why present an award in two minutes when you can take 6? If this is any indication of the way things are going to go tonight, we’ll get out of here by 3:30. So that’s nice.

6:48 – Penelope Cruz’s breasts win for Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Alright kids, mark it down. This the first of many movies I haven’t seen tonight. She looks like she’s wearing a wedding dress, which isn’t a bad thing. Brides are hot. Her speech sounds like virtually any other speech you’ll ever hear, and that’s not a bad thing. Ask Cuba Gooding Jr., Sally Field, and Halle Berry.

6:52 – Tina Fey looks like she lost a bet with that hairstyle as she and Steve Martin introduce Best Original Screenplay. What the hell is Frozen River? For that matter, Happy Go Lucky or In Bruges? I am painfully out of touch. I usually can at least recognize these films, but I feel like I’m watching the European Oscars or something. I gotta get out more.

6:55 – The Oscar goes to the dude who wrote Milk. I like his hair. He’s got it cut like he’s trying to be Dustin Jonas, a.k.a. The Bonus Jonas! (Yeah, I ripped off that joke from the College Humor Show, but it was the only good one from the entire episode. Has there been a more disappointing premiere? Ever? That site was transcendent when I was a freshman, and the show is the same tired crap everyone was doing five years ago. Why am I talking about this? Because the cat has fallen asleep in Superman position and I forgot to pay attention during his speech. Sue me.)

6:58 – Best adapted screenplay. Benjamin Button, Doubt, Frost/Nixon, The Reader, and Slumdog Millionaire. Thank God, at least I’ve heard of these. My free fall into irrelevance has slowed somewhat!

7:00 – Slumdog Millionaire wins to the shock of no one. Simon Beaufoy has beads across his chest like a Rambo-style bandolier. And they say there’s no new places to go for men’s fashion!

7:02 – Jennifer Aniston and Jack Black present the first of what they call “A 2008 Movie Yearbook.” This one is animation and boy, I’m glad I chose this year to live blog. I’m going to be here all night at this rate. But at least I’ll get to see all the movies from the year in 3 second increments just like I like it.

7:06 – Thankfully this leads into an actual award for “Best Animated Feature.” Wall-E takes it home. Hart and Keithage apparently saw this drunk and didn’t especially care for it. I’d think not. Wall-E doesn’t seem like ideal drunk fare. It would be like getting all fucked up and mobbing your way into Kramer Vs. Kramer.

7:09 – Best animated short feature is thankfully next. Anyone who’s reading this blog and wants to know my thoughts on this, raise your hand. That’s what I thought. I need to catch up here, so, hello fast forward button! It’s been too long since we’ve gotten friendly.

7:14 – Secretariat Jessica Parker’s tits look huge! Where the hell have they been? Daniel Craig wants to know the same thing. The award for art direction goes to The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Whee! I love when the people who win these awards feel the need to make a long speech. No one cares, dude. Just make like every other unknown Oscar winner, take your Oscar to a post-party and use it to get laid. Now beat it!

7:18 – And here’s Costume Design. I wish the Oscars were structured more like “Saturday Night’s Main Event” or, if you’re not a wrestling nerd, “Saturday Night Live.” On SNME, the Hulk Hogan match always took place within the first half hour like all the good sketches on SNL. Put the important awards first here so those of us with work in the morning can get the fuck out of here at a reasonable hour. Let the die hards stick around until late to watch the Koko B. Ware match and the award for costume design.

7:22 – Blah blah blah, I design the costumes and wore a $3,000 tux to match my $12 haircut. Why do men think they can just do whatever they want with their hair?

7:24 – And Good God, Craig and Secretariat are still on stage presenting the award for Best Makeup. Benjamin Button wins again and I’m quickly losing patience with this broadcast.

7:26 – The dude from Twilight and the young chick from Mamma Mia! are here now in a desperate attempt to capture youth imagination with a look back at some romantic moments from movies of 2008.

7:33 – Here’s Tito Santana Vs. “The Model” Rick Martel. Er… here’s the award for cinematography and Ben Stiller’s doing a Joaquin Phoenix-doing-an-Andy-Kaufman impression. Har har har.

7:39 – Anthony Dod Mantle wins for Slumdog Millionaire. No mention of his brother Mickey nor his apparent hairstyle mentor, Richard Branson. He keeps his speech nice and short, which we all appreciate.

7:41 – Jessica Biel looking quite tasty in an admittedly strange looking dress acknowledges some pioneer in digital animation. Okay then.

7:43 – A look back at the best comedies of 2008, although The Love Guru is inexplicably shown. James Franco is unnervingly funny as a laid back drug dealer. He always struck me as a pretty boy douche, but damn, he seems like a cool guy. I hate when that happens. Also, comedies get no love at the Oscars.

7:46 – Best Live Action Short is next. I plan to make a Live Action Short someday just so I can annoy everyone with my absurdly long acceptance speech where I thank, among others, Cru Jones & Bart Taylor, Better Cheddars and Amstel Light. It’ll be epic. My question is: Where does one go to watch a live action short? Do you ever see these playing at your local multiplex? Are these failed TV pilots? What is the market for the live action short?

7:54 – Hugh Jackman has a headset mic on. Uh oh. That means a musical number. And this one’s a doozy looking exactly like that scene from Naked Gun 33 1/3 where Leslie Nielsen completely destroys Pia Zadora. I would give anything for this bit to end like that one with James Earl Jones saying “That looks like Phil Donahue throwing up in a tuba.” Instead, we get Beyonce. Same difference, I guess.

7:59 – The number finally ends and feels like a nice long exercise in pointlessness. “The musical is back!” declares Jackman. Whatever you say, man.

8:02 – Best Supporting Actor looks to be up as presented by Christopher Walken, Kevin Kline, Cuba Gooding Jr., Alan Arkin, and Joel Gray. Well, that’s certainly a splendid collection of weirdness up there. Lady E gets a look at Philip Seymour Hoffman wearing a ridiculous skullcap looking quite homeless and goes, “Jesus!” on her way to the kitchen for another beer. No joke. He looks like a really hideous vagabond. He would have done better to dress up as his character Dusty from Twister. That’s right, he used to star in crap too.

8:04 – As the actors drag this out again, (Cuba Gooding is actually decently funny for a change) I just have to say that if anyone besides Heath Ledger wins this, then I don’t know anything.

8:08 – Sure enough, Heath Ledger takes it. Excellent. His Joker stands as one of the most haunting performances I’ve ever seen. Just tremendous. Everyone in the audience is tearing up as his family accepts the award on his behalf. I’m not so arrogant as to say this is one of the finest moments in Academy Award history, but I think it’s safe to say that it’s one of the only ones I’ll likely remember 5 years after the fact.

8:11 – I like the way they’re presenting Best Documentary. A collection of documentary filmmakers discuss advances in filmmaking and how that affects the making of a documentary. It certainly beats Tilda Swinton looking like she’s trying not to fart while presenting Best Supporting Actress, that’s for sure.

8:13 – Bill Maher is here to present, oddly enough. His documentary Religulous was widely regarded as one of the most mean-spirited, hamfisted, myopic exercises in movie history. And he bitches about not getting nominated. How do people like this guy? He’s such a smug, self-satisfied prick, I don’t get it. Man on Wire wins. This film is actually at the top of my list of films to see from this year’s awards, and I’m disappointed that I didn’t make that happen before tonight.

8:17 – Maher takes a break from preening himself to present Best Documentary Short Subject as well. The Oscar goes to Smile Pinki. The poor filmmaker has to come on down all the way from the back and jogs down like she’s headed to contestants’ row on “The Price Is Right.” I come to realize that her film is actually about kids afflicted with hair lips, and Lady E and I do our best not to laugh. We fail. We’re awful people.

8:22 – Here’s a look at the action films of 2008. Because when I think Oscars, I think that awful Speed Racer remake the Wachowski’s took a dump all over and testosterone-soaked farce Death Race. Buttfor has grown so bored, he’s taken refuge under the bed. Bumhug has taken to licking himself in his nether regions, which strikes me as behavior similar to the pleasure these actors get out of congratulating themselves.

8:25 – Will Smith comes out to present the award for Best Visual Effects. The award goes to The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. My mom absolutely loves this movie, so I’m sure she’s sitting at home nodding approvingly. Film snobs everywhere are probably pounding their keyboards like the insolent twits they are.

8:28 – Will Smith makes a “Boom goes the dynamite!” joke. If you don’t know why his movies make shitpots full of money, there you go. He bricks a line at the Oscars and rebounds by casually spouting out something dudes everywhere freaking love. The fact (or at least the perception) that Will Smith has watched that clip enough to have it on deck when he needs it is proof enough that Will Smith is likely one of the 5 coolest guys in the history of the world.

8:31 – Awards for Sound Editing and “Some Sound Shit” according to Lady E are handed out while I type the above section. The Indian guy who wins for Slumdog Millionaire is adorably flustered.

8:33 – Will Smith is still around to hand out the award for Film Editing. I think I could listen to Will Smith read a cookbook and it’d be entertaining. Slumdog Millionaire wins again. It’s like a Slumdog/Button death match here tonight, which I’m sure pleases both production teams to read. And I’m sure they’re reading my chump ass too.

8:37 – I’m finally caught up on the fucking DVR, so I read my fortune cookie. It says, “Don’t order from Red Dragon anymore.” What are the odds?

8:41 – Buttfor’s back in time to see Eddie Murphy give the humanitarian award to Jerry Lewis. Never knew Buttfor was French. In all seriousness, his work with muscular dystrophy is remarkable and is definitely award-worthy. No matter what you think of Jerry’s comedy, you have to give him credit for his charity work.

8:45 – Jerry keeps it short and sweet. Awesome! He’s my new hero. And we get to see Tony Hopkins in the audience! Bonus!

8:49 – The original scores. Didn’t see any of the films this music came from, but symphonic music sure is pretty, he said as he listened from his patio smoking a cigarette. Slumdog Millionaire wins again to continue the blood match.

8:55 – And now the song nominees. I like the music from Slumdog, but I don’t know the words and likely never will. I’m not even close to Indian enough and likely never will be. What the hell am I talking about “likely?”

9:00 – Let’s go Peter Gabriel! I want to “Sledgehammer” my beer, dammit! But it’s not to be. “Jai Ho” wins it as the Slumdog juggernaut powers on. I sledgehammer anyway.

9:04 – Liam Neeson and Frida Pinto (sp?) present the award for Best Foreign Language Film. Departures from Japan takes it. The people on stage look like judges from the original Iron Chef, which wins me over immediately. The director proclaims in his broken English, “I am here… because of… films!” I wish every director said that. Just cut through the bullshit.

9:10 – Queen Latifah runs us through those we lost this year with a song. Um, okay. Even though I find it a tad weird, she’s got a nice voice. Jesus, how did I forget both Paul Newman and Charlton Heston died this year? I’m freaking losing it.

9:17 – The President of the Academy is stepping down after this year and has agreed not to make a speech. Four more years! Four more years!

9:18 – Reese Witherspoon in “a horrendous dress” (Lady E’s words) introduces the nominees for Best Director. The Oscar goes to Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire. Benjamin Button is rocked! It’s on the ropes. The ref is looking to stop the fight… Danny Boyle accepts the award as Tigger. I don’t even have a joke here. The Academy Awards are weird.

9:24 – Sophia Loren, Shirley MacLaine, Halle Berry, Nicole Kidman, and Marion Cotillard present the award for Best Actor. I don’t often have impure thoughts about women over 70, but damn if Sophia Loren isn’t still imminently doable if a little Botoxed and plastic surgeried out. She’s still got that spicy Italian thing going on, which, I don’t know, it’s hot, man.

9:31 – The Oscar goes to Kate Winslet for The Reader. Thank God, maybe we can stop hearing about her damn Oscar drought now. This might be the first time anyone won an Oscar for spending the majority of a movie naked. That’s worth mentioning, isn’t it? Her speech is very sweet and very heartfelt. I’ve always liked her, so inasmuch as someone can be happy for someone he’s never met, I’m quite happy for Kate Winslet.

9:35 – Bobby DeNiro, Benny Kingsley, Tony Hopkins, Adrien (what’s the nickname for Adrien? Adry? Let’s go with Adry.) Brody, and Mickey Douglas present the award for Best Actress. Bobby looks better than he has in any film in the last five years while Adry looks like he’s been smoking dope with some Rastafarians in the Blue Mountains of Jamaica for the last four months. The guy from Twilight is sitting behind Mickey Rourke and appears ready to sink his teeth right into Mickey’s neck like a repressed Mormon.

9:43 – Sean Penn takes the award. I was pulling for Mickey Rourke myself because The Wrestler is the only movie I’ve seen in theaters in the last 6 months. Such is life. Sean Penn acknowledges how hard he makes it for us to appreciate him sometimes, and I laugh because it’s true. Let’s just say that the people I know who sit on the right side of the aisle politically are not exactly cheering this victory. I’ve heard he’s fantastic as Harvey Milk, so whatever.

9:46 – Steven Spielberg is here to present the last award of the night. The video package showing off all the nominees is quite elegant and builds the suspense nicely even though the outcome is in little doubt.

9:52 – Sure enough, Slumdog scores the final knockout over Benjamin Button and takes home the big prize. I never had any desire to see this, but probably will now simply because of the enthusiasm everyone associated with radiates.

9:54 – Hugh Jackman wraps us up with a glimpse of the upcoming films of 2009. Hard to comment on any of them since they fly by pretty quickly.

For all my initial bitching, overall, this turned out to be a decent Oscar telecast. Sure, it went the entire 3 and a half hours, but it was decently paced, was visually very slick looking, and Hugh Jackman didn’t force any jokes. The whole Chinese food delivered by fucking carrier pigeon thing annoyed me, but the show itself was a reasonable entertaining way to spend an evening. There are worse ways to spend 3+ hours, but I still wouldn’t want to do this more than once a year. So let’s call it a year, and we’ll see you in 2010.

edagger@crujonessociety.com