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It was worse that the James Franco / What's-Her-Name hosting gig last year - which I was fully promised was, and would stay, the worst show evah. Some old, seriously unfunny host did an extremely bad Billy Crystal impersonation. And then this person did a Sammy Davis Junior bit with Justin Beaber who I don't think was born when Sammy David Jr. died! An old Billy Crystal could not pull that off. A non-senile Billy Crystal wouldn't have even tried. It veer'ed dangerously close to black face as the Help was being (semi)-lauded..
And The Artist - don't get me started... don't even get me started (it's a Saturday Night Live reference - see Billy Cyrstal was doing decades old Satruday Night Live stuff - I thought I would join in).
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The Artist was directed with such a heavy hand that Stephen Spielberg looks like the master of subtlety compared to it. Billy Wilder is turning over in his grave after being credited as the director's inspiration. Seriously... has the director ever seen a Billy Wilder movie? Because, clearly something gets lost in the translation to French. Thank God they didn't give The Artist the Cinematography Awards - I was afraid they might due to the Black and White thing. Even though the subtle use of the grey palette seemed to have been created on an IBM PC, circa 1983. How was it even nominated - have these people never seen real (reel?) black and white movies. (real / reel - get it - I am shooting for The Artist level of subtlety.)
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Well, a craptastic Best Picture Winner deserves a craptastic Award show. So The Artist got what it richly deserved.. a lovefest of the aged and infirm without a shred of creativity or emotional depth. It was like Posthumous Best Picture Awards.