Song Bile

Although the newspaper is panning last night's Oscars, Ducknik and Plotnik tuned in somewhere in the middle, right around Best Supporting Editor in Shorts, and they enjoyed it quite a bit. Ellen de Generis was good! Plot and Duck had only seen 'Little Miss Sunshine,' out of all the nominated best films, so they didn't have any favorites one way or the other.

Well, Plotnik did, sorta. He always cringes at the Best Mindless Drivel Pretending to Be a Good Song category, and, at least for once, the very worst song(s) did not win. Man, that 'Dreamgirls' medley was SOOOOO bad, the songs so thin, the cliches flying around the Oscar stage like someone had forgotten Marvin Gaye and Smokey Robinson and all the Motown greats whose music is the whole point of this film, and instead done a pre-open on Lionel Richie and Wayne Newton's crypts to steal their lamest jewels.

Woooo, and let's not forget Celine Dion. Is Plotnik the ONLY ONE who realizes this woman cannot sing? How has this average-at-best performer managed to worm her way into the heart of the white bread?

OK, that was harsh. Sorry, Celine, sorry Beyonce and Jennifer and all you tuxedo-d up Dreamgirls buffoons being forced to turn your entire art form into a caricature of itself. At least we got to see Al Gore on stage with Melissa Etheridge, and that's nothin' but good. Maybe he'll like the stage. Maybe he'll take the next step.

Ah, that's nice, Plotnik feels better. Nothin' hits the spot like Sour Grape Soup. Can't wait 'til next year's Oscars!