Hertzberg sums up my feelings as well.
I have to admit, I enjoyed them last night. It didn’t hurt that I watched with agreeable people over ample food and drink, but the new format must have had something to do with it. I liked the fake intimacy of having so many stars grouped in a semicircle around the stage. I liked the acceptance speeches, especially Sean Penn’s shoutout to “Commie homo-loving sons of guns” and his brotherly recognition of Mickey Rourke. I liked having five famous actors or actresses come out together to announce the big-ticket nominees. I liked the pointless, unmusical chaos of the musical numbers. I liked the bit with James Franco and Seth Rogan as two stoners laughing their heads off while watching tragic scenes from nominated pictures. Tina Fey and Steve Martin were funny, too, but I didn’t mind the otherwise almost complete lack of film clips or sustained comedy. Much as I loved Billy Crystal (and Steve Martin) in years past, I didn’t really mind that the usual subversive running commentary was put aside just this once. Sincere, unironic collective self-praise has its place.
As always, I liked the red-carpet stuff beforehand, with the stilted, groveling “interviews” and the absurdity of evening gowns and tuxedos in the blinding mid-afternoon sun. Even the commercials were kind of O.K.
So sue me.
I liked the awards, too. I thought it was genuinely touching to see the past award winners “pass the torch” to this year’s nominees. No boring speech by the president of the Academy, that really was a gift. And “Slumdog Millionaire” won, woo hoo.