You'll probably read a lot of post-Oscar talk today, so I'll keep my thoughts brief:
Gladiator: I figured this would probably win, but still. It was good, but not that good. Man. Maybe it'll wipe the scowl from Russell Crowe's face. I really thought he was gonna kill Steve Martin after that Ellen Burstyn thing.
How great was Steve Martin? He was so much better than even Billy Crystal. Can we have Steve back next year? Pretty please?
Crouching Tiger and Traffic got some awards. That's good.
Good for Julia Roberts. Now she can die a happy woman.
Lots of Latin and Asian folks honored at the ceremony this year. That's good.
Not a lot of African-Americans, though. Were any nominated?
Okay, now that the entire world has seen Jennifer Lopez's breasts, either from the side or through a transparent gauze, can we put them away now?
Thank God Geena Davis was nowhere near the Shrine Auditorium.
Now, about Bjørk.
I'm a big Bjørk fan. A lot of people know this. In fact, this site exists in part because I misunderstood one of her song lyrics.
For months, I've been all wound up about Dancer in the Dark. First, out of nowhere, she wins all these Cannes film awards, and that was great. Then, I finally saw the movie, after having read very polarized reviews. One thing almost all the critics agreed upon was that no matter how much you loved or hated the film, you had to give Bjørk props for a stellar performance.
When I finally saw the film (and I just picked it up on DVD this weekend go rent it or buy it), she completely lived up to my hopes. She wasn't acting. She was inhabiting the spirit of a character with such ferocious abandon that it was completely gripping.
The movie was nominated for other awards, and when it finally came down to Oscar time, I was all excited to see her perform. I was annoyed that she didn't get a Best Actress nomination, but at least she was recognized for her music work, which is how she'd probably prefer it anyway.
I knew she probably wouldn't win (Bob Dylan was a shoe-in), but that didn't matter. I thought that for just a few minutes, the world would look at Bjørk, hear her voice, and recognize her genius for what it is.
It was an incredible bit of chunky gravy that Radiohead's Thom Yorke was supposed to perform the song with her. It was sudden proof that not only is there a God, but that He's also a fan of hers. Of course, this didn't bear out because they only gave her a short time to perform, so she had to cancel the duet part. Which is a shame because some of the best parts of the song were cut for time. (And why did they give the Crouching Tiger song what felt like 20 minutes, plus wire stunts, plus a full staircase? What did they give Bjørk? A microphone and a boot in the ass.)
Right before the Oscars, I was surprised to see them interview her on the pre-show. But not as surprised as when I saw her dress.
Oh man. She was wearing. A swan. Around her neck.
Now, I know Bjørk likes to wear frilly, big dresses to award ceremonies. But, damn. I was thinking this would be the one time where she'd wear something elegant and understated, where she'd let her music speak for itself and not bring on cruel and needless attention from people that are completely going to rip her to shreds because she likes to wear unusual outfits. When I saw her, I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I thought, "Ooooh... Oh no..."
I got protective and ... not exactly embarrassed, but just concerned. And yes, a little mortified. I mean, it's a swan! A big ass bird! And I suddenly felt very defensive for her. I wanted the world, if only for two minutes, to love her and her music as much as I do, and instead, I could just hear people all over the globe tuning out the song and just focusing on the swan's head on her shoulder. "Well, she's weird anyway," they'd say, and ignore the rest of her performance.
As it turned out, the song sounded rushed and incomplete. She came across as nervous. And I thought maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it's good that the whole world thinks she's a little strange. She's not meant to be miss popular. I mean, do I really want her to be Celine Dion?
To be honest, I probably thought way more about it than she did. She's probably out having a beer with Thom Yorke and making fun of Julia Roberts' dress.
Cosa's Hunger Strike to End Third-World Debt
I was gone for most of the weekend, so I wasn't able to be there completely for Cosa's crusade, but when I left on Saturday, Cosa seemed to be feeling the full fervor of her great work.
She meowed a lot. She kept chewing on her toys, and scratching the pantry door where I usually keep the cat food.
All of these gestures point to a committment to ending third-world debt. Cosa is obviously trying to point out that she doesn't need something as basic as food, when these countries are suffering at the whim of politics and economics.
She's also started to lose some weight since Day 1.
Still drinking lots of water.
Cosa's also started hissing at me whenever I come into the room. Not sure what that means, but I think it's just enthusiasm, the way boxers puff out their chest before a big fight.
I'm so proud of her.
I got a few e-mails about my decision on whether to buy next month's Playboy featuring E! Entertainment Wild On... host Brooke Burke.
It seems that the majority of you (as you can tell by this handy infographic) are in favor of a Playboy purchase. The two dissenting votes are from one female reader who suggested that I should pursue Burke in real life (thereby ignoring stalker laws). The second negative vote was from my own conscience.
Even my Dad chimed in, saying I should just buy the damned magazine and stop being a wuss about it.
One person offered to buy it for me.
I'm still open to suggestion, so if you're morally opposed, let me know before the magazine goes on sale. I'll post some of the responses I got on Wednesday. I had no idea people were as passionate about Brooke as I am.
Hey, look at this! Stuff to buy! Haaawwwt-Damn!
All great rebels wear stretch pants.