Leg-ageddon at the Oscars

Sunday was the 84th Academy Awards. I watched, as I always do. Every year I get further away from that starstruck girl who got fancied up on Oscar day, watched every moment of red carpet coverage, then pored over magazines collecting pictures for months after. I haven’t seen a movie in a theatre in a very long time. I watched the first 40 minutes of “The Help” with Odie one night, but we both got sleepy and decided to finish it another time. Then he got “Skyrim” for his birthday and “another time” never came. I read the book, so I felt no pressing need to find out what happened to adorable Emma Stone and her bad wig. She was precious at the Oscars. Not “Precious” based on the novel “Push” by Sapphire precious. Cute. Bubbly. Genuine. Her mouth does something weird I can’t quite put my finger on, though.

I wish I’d seen “The Artist,” but no one I know had the screener. Screeners are those DVDs that are mailed out to Academy members that we absolutely never borrow from people because it states very clearly on the packaging that you are not allowed to do that. So, if we allegedly were to ask a relative if he had a copy of “The Artist,” he most certainly did not lend it to someone who never gave it back.

Other than not seeing movies anymore, another sign that I am a middle-aged housewife is that I’m so over the old man, young woman thing. Stacy Keibler makes George Clooney look older, not studlier. I used to think he was debonaire. Now he just looks like thin Jack Nicholson (whom I have no doubt was at home, watching the Oscars with a paid escort on each arthritic knee). Keibler needs to stick to what she knows best: elves and cookies.

A recent episode of “30 Rock” had Alec Baldwin romantically interested in Mary Steenburgen, who is an age appropriate partner for him (she’s actually a few years older than he, but looks great). On the show, she was playing the mother of his love interest played by Elizabeth Banks. Banks is ten years older than the gal Baldwin is seeing in real life.

Angelina Jolie is quite a few years younger than Brad, but she’s so thin and haggard looking that the age difference does not show [leg thrust].

I have to talk about the leg. Jolie is an actress, and not only was the leg thrust weird and self-conscious, she flubbed her lines while reading the teleprompter. Isn’t that what she’s famous for? Reading lines into a camera? And spreading her legs? She managed to make both look completely unnatural.

The worst part is that she stole the moment away from who it belonged to. She was reading the Academy Award winner for Best Screenplay. Writers get little enough acknowledgement (unless they are young and good-looking: Diablo Cody, Kristin Wiig – or are actually actors: Matt Damon, Ben Affleck). Writers don’t deserve to have their moment stolen by Angelina Jolie’s praying mantis leg. I couldn’t have been more thrilled to see Jim Rash steal it back! Too bad that Hollywood politics had him claiming it was “an homage” to Jolie.

It was mockery. Pure, hilarious, mockery. Everyone from Rash himself to Ann Curry on “Today” was spewing that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” crap. Imitation is when I copy you because I admire you. For example, you wear a cute scarf, so I buy a similar one. Or I cut my hair like yours. That’s flattery.

This was not flattery. And it was fantastic.

Social media has changed the experience. All of the bitchy jokes I used to crack to my sister and friends while watching I can now Facebook and Tweet. If I tag the person I’m commenting about, it’s possible that s/he will see it. Thanks to this interconnectedness, we audience members are more a part of the Oscar magic than ever. Watching one of the montage interview segments on the show, instead of leaning over to Odie and saying “Look at how Xenu emulates a human being! So convincing!” I can tweet it right to Tom Cruise.

As the girls get older, I hope to share my love of movies with them. I remember seeing “The Empire Strikes Back” with my parents and catching their excitement for the sequel they’d up to then waited years to see. I learned to see movies as an event to enjoy and anticipate. The Oscars are our Superbowl. Viva now has a small library of films: “Finding Nemo”, “Beauty and the Beast”, “Ice Age”, “Despicable Me”, and “Winnie the Pooh.” I’m not sure if “Nemo” is my favorite because it’s the first one we really watched together or because it’s so well made. Probably both. We’re already making our own movie traditions together and I look forward to the day when we can sit side by side on the couch and watch the Oscars.

And tweet each other.

About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius

View all posts by Mrs Odie →