Say cheese!
Well, whadja expect? The triumph of art?
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Camille does the Oscars
WINSLET BLOOMS, MADONNA CLUNKS, STONE STYLES: A PAGLIA'S-EYE-VIEW OF THE ACADEMY AWARDS. BY CAMILLE PAGLIA | For Academy Awards night, the pagan festival I have devoutly celebrated at home for over 40 years, I choose a special Babylonian outfit -- my red-and-black "Absolutely Fabulous" T-shirt, which shows chicly decadent Patsy Stone accessorized with sunglasses, cigarette and bottle of vodka. I am in a mad movie mood tonight, as I worship the genius of Alfred Hitchcock. Until the Oscar program begins, I am laboring over the page proofs of my book on "The Birds," to be published by the British Film Institute in June. "Who among this tatty flock of starlets," I mutter as the limousines roll up, "can match the divine Tippi Hedren?" Kate Winslet of "Titanic" is truly titanic in her magnificent green dress, which makes her look like the Grand Duchess Anastasia at a medieval tournament. She should get the Oscar for best bust. Anyone with those floaters doesn't need a lifeboat. I thought we'd gotten rid of Meg Ryan, but no, there she is bounding chirpily down the red carpet with her new face tucks and a skin sheen as blinding as a Maine lighthouse. God, she revolts me. Cher hoves into sight wearing what seems to be a beige lampshade cut like a tornado eggbeater on her head. Not exactly widow's weeds. She sure got over Sonny's death fast. Sigourney Weaver (whose mother was a British actress who worked with Hitchcock) always looks so poised and stylized. Of course, it helps to have the height of a basketball player and positively tower over the huddled masses. There's Madonna with a man! Hooray, she's ditched anorexic Ingrid Casares for the night. But it looks like it's only for her brother. Madonna's got a revolving door in her love life -- or else it's a greased laundry chute that propels her boy toys into orbit over Mulholland Drive. Sharon Stone is fabulous! As usual, she is uniquely dressed and makes everyone else look like lemmings. She's doing a Jean Seberg this year -- the gorgeous garçon haircut, the white beachwear blouse with raffishly turned-up collar, wittily set off by a mauve satin sheath skirt. La Stone always has it. But that saturnine new hubby: hmmm. He reminds me of the looming, big-pockets, dissipated voyeur in Manet's "Girl at the Bar of the Folies-Bergère." The ceremony is about to begin. The stage set is a disaster: The two giant Oscars look like bathroom deodorizers, and the glitzy gold-brick proscenium looks like a broken ruin, Jerusalem's Wailing Wall. Of course, as Neal Gabler told us in his wonderful book "An Empire of Their Own" (and in the recent Arts and Entertainment television special based on it), the Jews did invent Hollywood. Here comes tonight's host, Billy Crystal, who year after year is given an insane amount of Oscar time to do his tedious shtick. There are a few amusing moments in his taped opening skit, where he appears in drag as a film noir vamp or as the voluptuously nude Winslet posing for her artist. Kim Basinger, giving her thanks for the best supporting actress award, is far too breathy and cringing. Get her off! Every time the camera rests on the gloriously blooming, Rubenesque Winslet, touchingly seated next to her frail co-star, the elderly Gloria Stuart (how nice to see real wrinkles for once in android L.A.), it's a shock to have to look at anyone else. Mira Sorvino, for example, who normally passes for sexy, seems to be frumpily unkempt and too snub-nosed tonight. Speak of ruins -- was there once a noble Italian schnozz there? "The exciting Michael Bolton" comes onstage to sing, or rather to caterwaul. The unappealing mass of webby locks is now shorn, but we're still stuck with those pleading eyes, puny, pouty mouth and lantern jaw. Hook! Celine Dion in the audience is politely applauding him but seems vaguely aghast. Robin Williams gets the Oscar for best supporting actor. Phooey: Once a comedic original, he's now a heavy-handed ham, servile to the audience and without an authentic bone left in his body. Burt Reynolds deserved to get this award, but he's too much the outsider in his Florida retreat. Williams has been scratching the right backs on the inside track for years. Panderer! N E X T+P A G E: Old Hollywood vs. new: No contest - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - PHOTO BY MICHAEL CAULFIELD/AP/WIDE WORLD |
