87th Academy Awards Ceremony: The "Gay Superbowl"

Neil Patrick Harris is a triple threat indeed. He acts, sings and dances. He has hosted the Tonys, the Emmys and, last night, the Oscars. He is good at both delivering scripted one-liners and ad-libbing. This was also very appropriate as NPH is an "out" gay man and the Oscars are known to many as the "Gay Superbowl." My friend and I proved this to be the case as we celebrated with pineapple salsa and chips, chicken wings and other snacks. We also had pineapple champagne, though there's nothing inherently gay or Oscar-oriented about pineapple. Just a coincidence. (He bought the salsa and I bought the champagne.)

It was largely a dignified affair last night, marred by the omission of Joan Rivers' name and image during the annual in memoriam segment introduced by Meryl Streep. It was like a slap in the face and an affront to Ms Rivers' fans who tweeted and messaged as soon as her name did not appear in its alphabetical order. Joan was apparently snubbed by the Academy for her outspoken red carpet work, it would seem, although she worked in Spaceballs, Shrek 2, Rabbit Test (which she wrote and directed), The Swimmer, The Muppets Take Manhattan among other films, and warranted inclusion in the segment. As I said, this is the Gay "Superbowl" and fans get riled up... especially after cocktails.

Talking of the red carpet, there were so many beautiful, dazzling, classy gowns last night! Of course, Jennifer Lopez appeared as a presenter (fresh from her starring role in The Boy Next Door), looking tacky in a typically breast-baring, very low-cut, sheer, glittery frock.

Our boy, Neil, had a backstage/onstage moment in his briefs, yes, but that was comedy and a sight gag spoofing Birdman. Some immediately took to the Internet to express disapproval. Oh, please! Get over it and, as Joan Rivers would have said, "Grow up!" Someone wrote, "Could you imagine Bob Hope doing this?" Thank God, no I couldn't -- or, at least, wouldn't -- imagine that.

Channing Tatum turned up to present who-knows-what. Unfortunately, he had all his clothes on but Magic Mike XXL opens in a few months. I guess I somehow cared as much about what he was doing on-stage at the Oscars as much as I cared about seeing him in Jupiter Ascending.

I was thrilled for Julianne Moore who finally got her Best Actress Oscar for Still Alice. Her acceptance speech was classy and well prepared as she spoke, partly, to raise awareness about Alzheimer's. She looked swell, too.

Britain's Eddie Redmayne deservedly nabbed the Best Actor Oscar for his intensive portrayal of Stephen Hawkings in The Theory of Everything. Both Awards proved that Oscar voters still love actors portraying the disabled.

I was happy Grand Budapest Hotel garnered four Awards, but had hoped it would win for Best Picture. I was disappointed Birdman had that distinction because, frankly, I didn't think it was nearly as good. Birdman's Alejandro González Iñárritu is the first Mexican director to take home an Oscar.

Poland's Ida won Best Foreign Film. Patricia Arquette, with a body of good work to her credit, impressed us with both her frock and her acceptance speech. She won Best Supporting Actress for her role in Boyhood. Best Supporting Actor's Oscar was coveted by J.K. Simmons for Whiplash, a film I've yet to see. (I voted for Robert Duvall in The Judge on my at-home ballot.)

The performance of "Glory" (from Selma) was stirring; a big gospel number performed by John Legend and Common. As thunderous applause swept over the footlights, we just knew it was bound for glory in the Best Original Song category which it, in fact, won.

Highlights this year included Idina Menzel presenting alongside John Travolta (who famously mangled her name last year), the breathtaking simplicity of the gowns worn by Cate Blanchett and Reese Witherspoon, and Lady Gaga performing songs from The Sound of Music -- beautifully. Her white gown was lovely. If only she could have covered up those crude-looking, long tattoos on her inner arms.

Julie Andrews then took to the stage, gave Lady Gaga a big hug and said, "Thank you for that.... It warmed my heart." And so it did mine. Or maybe that was the pineapple salsa.

Cine Beaverhausen: Seventh Son with Julianne Moore

Seventh Son is based on a series of fantasy books of the Lord of the Rings ilk. A costume epic that sports stilted dialogue on the order of "You know nothing of dragons!" Yet, the fire-breathing question in my mind is: What the heck is Julianne Moore doing in this picture? I presume there was no suitable part for her in the recent Hot Tub Time Machine 2? Alas, she is joined by her Big Lebowski co-star Jeff Bridges in this mediocre Middle Ages muddle.

Released this past Friday in the US, Seventh Son poses a risk for Ms Moore alone, however, as she is nominated for a Best Actress Oscar this month. Will Academy voters hold her slumming through this film, as formidable witch Mother Malkin, against her and her brilliant portrayal in Still Julia?

Seventh Son is a murky mess of an adventure film with cheesy special effects, intentionally dumped on the market by Universal at a time they anticipated nobody would notice. And, gauging the box-office receipts, they seem to be correct in that presumption.

Cine Beaverhausen: Still Alice

My adoration of Julianne Moore is no secret, so it's probably not a surprise to you or myself that I'd love her Oscar-nominated performance in Still Julia.

Based on the best-selling novel of the same name, it details the tragic story of early onset Alzheimer's; in this case for a woman of 50.

Believe me, I worry about this shit! Like when I can't find my house keys, then find them in the fridge! I worked with a woman, younger than myself, who was laid off because of her "flaky" behavior. A couple of years later, she died and had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's. My mom, shortly before her passing, became confused at times. At one visit at Christmas, she was preparing to mail a gift. "Where do I put the return address?" she asked. "Mom," I said, "At the top of package." "Where? In the middle?" she retorted.

This was all to say that I found Ms Moore's portrayal very convincing. Directed by Richard Glazer (who wrote the script) and Wash Westmoreland, the film perfectly depicts the deterioration of this illness.

Highly recommended. Strong  thesp support, especially by Alec Baldwin and Kristen Stewart  See this. Can you remember that?

Video Beaverhausen: "Carrie" The Remake

Stephen King's Carrie is American folklore at this point. It was an iconic Brian De Palma hit movie in 1976 that garnered Oscar nominations for Sissy Spacek in the title role and for Piper Laurie as her fanatical mother.  It was a 2002 tv-movie and a notorious Broadway musical. (I saw the musical's revival off-Broadway last year and still have the souvenir cap. http://djbuddybeaverhausen.blogspot.com/2012/02/carrie-on.html ) I even saw an off-off-Broadway non-musical production featuring Sherry Vine as Carrie. (It was wonderful.)

When I spoke to Sherry at the Queens club, Icon, in December, she didn't have such great things to say about the latest screen version released here in time for Halloween. It was a box-office disappointment and the reviews and general buzz were, to put it politely, tepid.

Now available for streaming and download (including at Amazon.com), I must confess this newest Carrie, updated for the era of Internet and iPhones, impressed me. Chloe Grace Moretz made a very affecting Carrie White and Julianne Moore once again proved to be riveting in the role of monstrously sado-masochistic mom, Margaret.

Carrie resonates because it is a mythical menstrual bloodbath of a horror show and because it is rooted in the emotional realism of its characters and their relationships before all hell breaks loose in its bloody inferno of a climax. It was directed by Kimberly Pierce (Boys Don't Cry) who gives the film a very different feel from the De Palma-helmed classic. There is more sense of Carrie's growing awareness of her empowerment, more subtle emotional touches and, like Boys Don't Cry, as harrowing and ultimately horrifying as it is heartbreaking. In the original film, Tommy (Carrie's hunky prom date) is knocked unconscious by a swinging metal pale that contained pigs' blood. Carrie has gone into a trance-like state and begins her telekinetic rampage. In Pierce's version, Carrie bends down over Tommy, realizing he is dead before freaking out in a major way. That moment in the movie brought me to tears.

Nonetheless, the film's apocalyptic destruction sequence is unlikely to disappoint any viewers.

Wisely, the film bases its script by Roberto-Aguirre Sacasa (Glee) on the Larry Cohen treatment for the '76 film rather than returning to the novel for the most part. Julianne Moore's Margaret doesn't sell bibles door-to-door but rather runs a dry cleaning business. She is off the creepy-meter though Moore's performance is less strident than Piper Laurie's. Lines like "Ok, go to your closet!," "Take it off [Carrie's dress] and we'll burn it together and ask for forgiveness," "They're all going to laugh at you" and mentions of "dirty pillows" and that roadhouse whiskey are intact, as is her crucifixion by sharp kitchen utensils (direct from the Cohen script).

Judy Greer is wonderful as Carrie's supportive gym teacher, Ms Desjardin, who is this myth's earth-mother figure (as the character's name implies) and Carrie's surrogate good mother.

In sum, a great reinvention (rather than remake) of the De Palma film and the Stephen King novel, with its own style and distinct emotionally touching moments. Constructed in the manner of classic Greek tragedy, Carrie gives us the mimesis and catharsis that traditionally constitute satisfying drama along with plenty of shock value and thrills, and a little bit of camp. I thoroughly enjoyed it from start to finish.

For anyone who ever felt "different" or alienated or discriminated against in high school, this is your story. For all of you who were in with the in-crowd and the popular people, as the ad says: "God Won't Help You." Carrie is the patron saint of high school nerds .