March 23, 2003

In these depressing times, it’s good to know that we can still count on Hollywood for an entertaining diversion. Despite the war in Iraq, Oscar has assured us that the show will go on, although we won’t be seeing our favourite stars march up the red carpet. The reason for skipping this ritual is obvious: no one wants to sit through another red carpet commentary by Joan Rivers.

So what can we expect to see at the 75th Academy Awards?

Funky Dancing from Steve Martin

The Man with Two Brains, Steve Martin, will once again be hosting the Oscars. Not only is Martin a genuine comedic talent, he knows how to get dowwwwn. I, for one, am hoping he performs his hit single, King Tut (although he might want to rethink the chest hair).

Predictable Acceptance Speeches

Repetitious and boring at the best of times, acceptance speeches are traditionally the time when you go and get yourself a cup of coffee. This year could be different, however, because the ceremony will be a great opportunity for people to voice their anti-war sentiments.

Expect to hear lots of emotional pleas for peace, possibly delivered by actors wearing in-your-face, anti-war t-shirts rather than the more traditional Armani and Valentino creations (although Armani and Valentino are rumored to be producing a range of in-your-face, anti-war t-shirts for the occasion).

A Theme

What Oscar night would be complete without a theme to unify the nominees? Last year was Year of the African-American. This year will be Year of the Grotesque Feature.

Just look at some of nominees.

There’s Nicole Kidman’s nose in The Hours, Salma Hayek’s uni-brow in Frida, Daniel Day-Lewis’ moustache in Gangs of New York, the hobbit’s feet in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Richard Gere’s voice in Chicago, Nicolas Cage’s hair in Adaptation, and Hayden Christensen in Star Wars: Attack of the Clones.

The Academy Hall of Fame Award

Because the Academy has never given Peter O’Toole an award (even though he’s been nominated for Best Actor an amazing seven times), they’ve decided to give him one now. The fact that the 70 year old actor has asked the Academy not to give him the award because he was “still in the game and might win the lovely bugger outright” is besides the point. He’s old, he’s feeble, those probably aren’t his own teeth so he’ll damn well do as he’s told!

Touching Tributes to the Recently Deceased

Along with all the other movie greats that passed on during the year, the Academy will show a montage of the films made by the late Peter O’Toole, who tragically died on the eve of the Awards.

Best Picture: Chicago

What do Americans do in times of turmoil? Why, they put on a show, of course! And Chicago is the show with everything: singing, dancing, glamorous costumes, gangsters with guns and Queen Latifah’s breasts.

Best Actor: Adrien Brody for The Pianist

Brody doesn’t have an obviously Grotesque Feature, but he did lose an astounding amount of weight for the role, making him grotesquely thin. It’s just a shame he’s not a cross-dresser, because he would have looked so cute in Lara Flynn-Boyle’s tutu.

Best Actress: Nicole Kidman for The Hours

Anyone willing to walk around with a schnoz like that deserves some kind of recognition. We only hope the nose wasn’t a futile attempt to win back ex-hubby, Tom Cruise. Just because Tom is dating Penelope Cruz doesn’t mean he has a fetish for women with substantial noses, Nic.

Best Supporting Actor: Chris Cooper in Adaptation

Given the grotesque hair sported by his co-star Nicholas Cage, it’s hardly surprising that Chris Cooper felt he had to knock out all of his front teeth to compete. Still, if he melts down his Oscar, there might be enough gold for him to build himself a new set of choppers.

Best Supporting Actress: Queen Latifah for Chicago

Okay, I don’t really think she’s going to win, but the term “supporting” ties in so nicely with the stupendous machinery needed to prop up Queenie’s breasts, she really should get the award.

Best Director: Peter Jackson for Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

What? He wasn’t even nominated, you say? True, true, but thanks to a nifty mirror I borrowed from some hippy called Galadriel, I’ve seen what will actually happen on the night.

A troop of drunken hobbits, angry at the insubstantial, low-fat fare offered by the Academy, will swarm the stage brandishing carrots and the immaculate Sir Ian McKellen.

Happily for them, the actual winner—Rob Marshall for Chicago—will be so distracted by the fact that the 8-month pregnant Catherine Zeta-Jones has gone into labour, he’ll forget all about the award, as will the rest of the Chicago cast.

Unhappily for the hobbits, however, the newborn infant will upstage them with an impromptu song and dance routine, proving, once and for all, that talent is something you’re born with.

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