The Gay Superbowl

First, a big, big thank you to my sweet friends Derek and Mike for hosting a great Oscar party with more candy and individual-sized snack packs than a 7-11. I had a blast! (of sugar, which kept me up until 2 a.m., but I have no one to blame but myself.)

The red-carpet pre-show just isn't the same unless Cher is nominated for something. (Slate has a report on the homogenizing Oscar-night fashion trend followed by starlets afraid of ending up on worst-dressed lists in tabloids around the world.)

It was decided at the party that The View should become a reality show where the suckiest hosts get voted off the island, so that we can return Star Jones back to the obscurity she deserves. She looked like she was going to a 1980's theme prom in Alabama in a dress she borrowed from her fatter older sister, shod in Payless pumps. Nothing wrong with being a big girl -- there's more of her to love! -- but wearing a dress that's too big for you doesn't help the illusion. And the HAIR! -- a lovely tribute to Marge Simpson.

Still, she was less distracting than Joan Rivers, who looks more and more like Amanda Lepore every year. Since Amanda Lepore used to be a man, that's not a compliment. For either of them.

In the fashion scene, Cate Blanchett always looks amazing, she has such class. Still, it was agreed that yellow is an odd gown color, unless you're Penelope Cruz. When Oprah strolled down the carpet looking like a million bucks, she easily eclipsed dumpy Star. Natalie Portman's gown seemed inspired by the Charioteer of Delphi, except with cleavage plunging to her pupik. Laura Linney -- a trifecta of fashion terror: gown (ugly color, Frankenstein stitching, and those ruffles!), hair (Dyke on a Bike), and necklace (my dog wants her choke collar back)!

Hilary Swank's gown looked prude from the front (closest thing to a turtle neck we've ever seen at the Oscars), but the back was about 1 milimeter shy of waaaay too much information. Renee Zellwegger's gown was clearly inspired by those heart-shaped boxes of Valentine's Day chocolates trimmed with frilly lace. Honey, you're a blonde, embrace it. Shoe-polish black hair doesn't work. PS, eat something. Gwyneth...if you don't got it, don't flaunt it. Counting Crows Guy...what the hell? Spike Lee: Fez + safety goggles makes you look like you just graduated from shop class.

Okay, on to the ceremony and the winners. Chris Rock did a pretty good job of hosting; the excursion to an inner-city movie theater to see how many fans had seen this year's nominees was hilarious. (Full disclosure: I didn't see any of this year's best picture nominees; I just can't get that interested in hobbit-free movies.) I didn't entirely approve of his putdowns of Tobey Maguire and Colin Farrell. (Notice I did not mention Jude Law.) If there was any doubt as to whether Hollywood has a "liberal bias," it was dispelled with Rock's praise for Fahrenheit 9/11 and his comments on Bush's presidency, which took the form of an analogy to a cash register at The Gap being $70 trillion short and an employee starting a war with Banana Republic over tank tops, only to discover that Banana Republic never made any tank tops. Conservatives presumably have their squarepants in a knot, but face it: your president is a thief and a terrorist so if Hollywood wants to make fun of him, you just need to shut up and take it.

Beyoncé looked and sounded fabulous, but...three songs? Is there no one else in Hollywood who can sing? I guess not, as she was partnered up with milquetoasty Josh Groban, and the evening's other soloist, Antonio Banderas, made composer Jorge Drexler -- who gave the evening's best acceptance speech, er, uh, song -- cringe in his seat.

In terms of acceptance speeches, Jamie Foxx put in a plug for corporal punishment and thanked his grandmother for continuing to "advise" him from beyond the grave. Scary! Hilary, tell me you didn't know you were going to win, everyone else did! What was that speech? First and foremost she wanted to thank her husband, after she'd thanked a lot of other people. (She forgot to thank him last time.)

For me, it was worth sitting through all the monotony and predictability to see Barbra Streisand doing her damndest to keep Dustin Hoffman vertical; he was so soused he made the best-picture nominees sound like the titles of foreign films. (Milluhdollahbubbah???) He almost stole her moment by going ahead and reading the winner, but with a roll of her eyes she managed to snatch the envelope with one hand and prop him up with the other. (Watch it all here.) Then she said she wasn't wearing her glasses and couldn't read the winner, so she had to hand it back to him. A priceless moment that will go down in Hollywood history, for sure.