Another thought grew as the evening wore on. It is, more or less, that young Hollywood doesn't really seem to get the Oscars -- in turn, I wonder if it's a TV show that many kids watch or respond to. No one wants to get pompous about the evening -- dignity somehow seems irrelevant -- but I marvel that Ben Affleck can come on unshaved, and that Tom Cruise (presenting best director) wore an open-neck shirt.

That indifference seemed all the more striking this year when two of the undoubted emotional highlights involved honorary tributes to two men in their 80s, absolutely beyond the knowledge of the general public. Ernest Lehman wrote "Sweet Smell of Success" and "North by Northwest"; he also wrote the screenplays for "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" and "The Sound of Music." Jack Cardiff was a great English cinematographer, at his peak in the 1940s and 1950s with films like "Black Narcissus," "The Red Shoes," "The African Queen" and "The Barefoot Contessa." The quality of Cardiff's imagery was startling and ravishing in just the few clips shown. Lehman's clips were not as rich or generous -- there was hardly anything of Burt Lancaster talking in "Sweet Smell."

Still, the audience stood for both men, not just because of their age or frailty but as if they felt that immediate contact with the old energy of movie glamour. The use of light and words was redolent of an age of cinema in which those were staple qualities in the wonderment of it all. And Lehman stood firm (though holding on to Julie Andrews for support) and delivered a ringing tribute to the Writers Guild. The word strike was never mentioned, but everyone in the house knew what he meant. That's what you hire writers for.

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In recent years, such kindness toward veterans has invariably stood out in tawdry or dull evenings. This year, the show had no center and not much heart: Martin never caught fire. He's really too cool for a job that requires Billy Crystal's glee and affection for people. Roberts' win might have meant more if there'd been any doubt over it. Russell Crowe's victory was deflected by his own sourness. And so I think I'll recall Cardiff and Lehman and that other octogenarian, Dino De Laurentiis, who helped Fellini and David Lynch make great films, and who pointed to his latest daughter in the audience -- a beauty and not a day over 7. There you are: You can't beat authentic energy, or escape the fact that the Oscars act and feel like a 73-year-old.

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