If you didn't see Three 6 Mafia and the Stay Fly Girls' Interpretive Dance Troupe's (that's not really their name, but shouldn't it be?) performance of Hustle & Flow's "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" on last night's Oscars, you'll probably want to do that. If you did see it, you'll probably want to again. So here's my youtube upload of it:
I don't think there's any other way to perform that song live, but by incorporating interpretive dancers. Way to match the over-the-top spirit of the movie, everyone!
I really wanted Taraji P. Henson to be wearing a pregnant suit and have her hair done like it was humid. But I guess it was time for glamor. Plus, I mean, the Solid Hoe Dancers were all we needed in the realm of realism:
I guess these are the "witches" jumping ship?
Also loved the down-whiteboy john.
Oh, speaking of those witches-not-bitches, I read in Entertainment Weekly that Three 6 Mafia were asked to clean up some of the lyrics, but that they were allowed to use "bich" and "hoe." They just censored themselves because kids would be watching (it's a family show!). That's cute. So was their incoherent acceptance speech. I can't appreciate enough how Three 6 must have rattled nerves and turned stomachs all over the auditorium. They took us to an alternate reality for about eight minutes, and their alternate reality was a lot less bland than Hollywood's. Best Oscar moment. Nothing will ever top it, ever.
But, uh, a few things seemed to try.
First of all, this is either really tragic or really funny.
Am I a few feet closer to hell for laughing with the same considerable force every time I hear: "There were...their movies were, um, were a sharp breakthrough...uh, break in style, as well"? Nice save, Bacall!
But really, maybe tragic. I don't know.
With that out of the way, I'm not so interested in going through all the huge names and picking them apart, because by now, it's already been done and of course people look stupid and lame at the Oscars. It's fucking Hollywood.
But that said, when I see someone who looks particularly bad, I find myself wondering every time, "Do they look that way for a role?"
Is that a ducktail?
I think in this case, the answer is yes, she does look that way for a role. Her North Country role. She just hasn't washed her hair since.
Moving on: Dolly Parton used a great technique to detract attention from her oddly elongated face . . .
. . . cameltoe!
I really don't need to know that much about her vagina, but whatever.
And what is vagina without some douche:
This Howard Berger character blabbered on and on about Where the Wild Things Are and shit, and went over the time limit he was supposed to share with his partner, who clearly has the patience of a kindergarten teacher for not hitting him over the head with a Sendak hardcover. Note to Howard: you're makeup. Know your place and share the 45 seconds that we aren't going to listen to, anyway.
Speaking of not caring, here's Catherine Keener goofing off during the boring-ass, anti-DVD-propaganda laced speech of Sid Ganis, the president of the Academy:
I think she's motioning to a rented bracelet and saying, "Will you buy me this?" to some identified colleague across the row. I bet she was talking to him:
And I bet he would!
Speaking of jewelry: hey Terrence, nice broach . . .
. . . is your son wearing one?
Regardless, that's an exquisite ring, too. He is a straight-up dandy. Not that we didn't already know that.
Larry McMurty wore jeans with a blazer!
He is sooooooo hipster '05.
And finally, it sucks that Brokeback lost, but it sucks even more what it lost to.
Way to let that Oscar immediately go to your head, iconoclast! That's him accepting for Best Original Screenplay. And what a screenplay it is! Seriously, if two hours of "Race. Race race race! Race!!! RACE!!!! Race race ra-EXPLOSION!! Race. Race. Race?" make up a hammer by which to shape society, please hit me over the head with it first.