There’s a new tradition, and it’s called the Golden Bunny Award.

Well, no. It’s known as the Golden Bunny Award. The real name is the Best Performance Predicting the Political Sentiments of the Academy Award, but we cut the name down for regular conversation. It will, from this point on, be awarded to the individual who best predicts the outcome of the Academy Awards.

And it’s chocolate. RIGHT?

The inaugural recipient is my friend Meg. She and I tied in our total results, but as the person who created the award, I decided that that makes the local equivalent of Pricewaterhousecoopers and therefore disqualifies me from prizes.

So the Oscars happened and I was my typically giddy self. There was the traditional Chinese food. There was wine and there was a drinking game, in which our fierce foursome were to sip each time there was:

  • crying
  • “God”
  • tripping en route to the podium
  • teleprompter mishaps
  • Milk recruitment quips
  • Jack Nicholson shoutouts

Imagine us sitting in my living room, holding our glasses up. “DO IT. CRY. DO IT. SHE’S TOTALLY GOING TO.”

Overall, the results were predictable. I’d picked Rourke to get Best Actor, but wasn’t surprised to see Sean Penn step up to the podium, given what everyone has said about his performance in Milk (which I’ve yet to see but really want to) and his status as Oscar Darling. I was happy to finally see Kate Winslet win and thought Danny Boyle the most adorable thing ever, the way he was grinning all night long.

Hugh Jackman was delightful. Let’s face it, the bar is still set high, and Billy Crystal is dangling from it by his knees, laughing and looking down at anyone else who’s ever hosted. That said, Jackman is the best we’ve had in a long time: funny, charismatic, self-depricating, Australian, good-looking, a song and dance man, good-looking. And his dance breakdown to The Reader sold me right there.

In terms of the format, it was a step in the right direction. It was important for the telecast to show off the categories of films that the Academy snubs every year. It’s important to note that good movies aren’t only screened in art houses and that fans’ taste isn’t always off base (Will Smith got the quip of the night when he said he liked action movies, partly because with an action flick comes…um…fans). Hopefully movies like The Dark Knight – awesome, kickass movies meant for popcorn and crowds – will get more nods by the Academy in years to come.

I also enjoyed the changes to the general format. I enjoyed the feel of the show. It felt fresher, hotter, more relevant. That said, much as I love Queen Latifah, great as she sounded during the memorial segment, I wanted to actually see the names of the people who passed away. I don’t need to see her as she’s singing.

Fashion? It was blah this year. Some of the pieces were lovely, in terms of architecture, but where was the color? Every other dress was in a shade of white or cream. We had Anne Hathaway (lovely, but give the girl a sandwich and a good night’s sleep! She had circles under her eyes like I had during my recent super stressful bit. Not okay), Jennifer Aniston, Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Sarah Jessica Parker, Jessica Biel, Taraji P. Henson, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood, Tina Fey. Too much of a dull thing.

Give me a punch of crimson (thank you, Amy Adams) or blue (although neither Reese Witherspoon nor Freida Pinto impressed me with the designs they selected). Thank goodness for Natalie Portman and Alicia Keys. I’m not crazy about pink gowns in general, but I was so thirsty for color that I happily accepted and championed their looks.

As for the guys? Robert Downey Jr., thank you for showing us what a leading man should look like. I know the guy was up for Supporting Actor, but still. Wow.

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