It's actually a drawing -- given annually to the person who gets the most correct Oscar picks. Once again I lost. I wasn't even close. I'm either too cynical (trying to outguess the political maneuvering of Hollywood, a fool's errand) or a I go to the opposite extreme, throwing caution to the wind and voting with my heart (which rarely, if ever, wins).
For example, last night we saw Moneyball in the second-run theater. Not all that great a film, but I thought Brad Pitt gave a really memorable, understated performance, creating an admirable and believable characterization that lingered in my mind. The Descendants was watchable. I didn't get bored. I like George Clooney -- but both the film and his performance quickly faded from my mind, perhaps because they seemed so contrived. The Artist was fun to watch. But it was lightweight fluff that didn't do nearly as much with the silent film theme as it might have. It floated into Oscar contention on a hot air balloon of hype (thank you, Harvey Weinstein -- you're a master at what you do.)
So I voted my heart and chose Brad Pitt. Typical.
I wasn't enthusiastic about the choice of Billy Crystal as the host, and the almost funereal pace of the evening's proceedings bore out my fears. We fantasized about how much freshness, energy and enthusiasm Jimmy Fallon could have added to the evening. Maybe with Tina Fey as a co-host. And why not bring along Roots from his show to handle the music? I don't think the producers gave the older audience in the hall much credit -- they could have handled it. As it was, they often seemed as bored as the home audience.
But what do I know? My choices don't even do very well in the family academy balloting.