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Our 2012 Academy Awards Live-Blog

Posted by Joe Piccirillo on February 26, 2012

Welcome to our 2012 Academy Awards liveblog! We're liveblogging this year's awards show all night long, courtesy of our Fiction vs. Reality columnist Joe Piccirillo. Join Joe in the discussion below, with his oldest comments at the bottom and his newest near the top.

Here's an updated list of this year's award winners in real time

Check out our red carpet gallery


11:39PM: Well, that's it. Thanks to all one (1) of you for reading along with me and my silent depression. I'm going to drink whiskey now. If I'm still alive, I'll see you next year. Good night.

11:37PM: I hate everyone... especially Market Research guy (the late) Joseph Farrell.  Thanks, Joseph.

11:35PM: Best Picture: Hugo should win. It's a beautiful film about unearthing the possibiites of hope within each of us through unexpected ways. Nope, instead it goes to The Artist, a movie about a smug douche who whines about being a failure. Oh, there's also a dog.

11:32PM: This Oscar is the worst thing Margaret Thatcher ever did.

11:30PM: wishlist: Someone drops a cymbal on Streep's head while that ridiculous music from The Artist plays. I laugh forever.

11:30PM: phoniness.  Check. Crocodile tears. Check.

11:29PM: Best Actress... that ridiculous dude Meryl Streep. She is the worst.  Look for crocodile tears and phoniness.

11:28PM: Still alive.  Damnit.

11:26PM: Man, this is dry. Feels like it's time for another hilarious cymbal-dropping incident.

11:24PM: Best Actress: While Colin Firth spends another 8 minutes celebrating the nominees' performances, I plan to impotently punch the couch. 

11:20PM: Commercials. I hope I can finally catch a glimpse of that new show with Ashley Judd. She's a mom, not a CIA agent or anyone with credentials. Just a crazy lady with a list of demands. Who wouldn't want to see that?

11:28PM: Dear Future Joe, if you have not hanged yourself by the time 11:28 rolls around you have made a grave mistake.

11:18PM: Jean Dujardin wins for Best Actor. Sometimes I feel like Joseph Farrell checked out just in time.

11:13PM: Best Actor...  (The time that has elapsed between the writing of these two sentences is four hours). If that Artist guy wins and they play that ridiculous Tom and Jerry music I will create another silent film -- I will silently set off C4 explosives across America. While I typed this, Natalie Portman read aloud the scripts from all nine best picture nominees. 

11:10PM: Gabourey Sidibe. Remember when Hollywood assured you that your weight wouldn't preclude your receiving film roles? Thank God that didn't happen. I look forward to seeing you in Precious 2: The Klumps.

11:09PM: Does anyone know if Ashley Judd has a new show?

11:07PM: Another commercial? This is all Joseph Farrell's fault. You've won again.

11:06PM: Joseph Farrell in Market Research. Yep, that happened. 

11:05PM: No, not Bert Schneider. I never had the chance to say goodbye.

11:03PM: They're showing a montage of people who have passed away. I wonder if my soul will be among them.

10:58PM: We're running late, here. My sandwich and whiskey are waiting for me in that shower. Come on.

10:57PM: Honorary Oscars are given to nobodies. Why not take this time to celebrate the people in your lives who won't amount to anything.

10:56PM: Best Director: If that guy for The Artist wins, I will be very sad. No. That Artist guy wins for directing one of the worst movies of all time. Once again, Hollywood loves to congratulate itself by honoring a film about a cocky idiot who is left behind by the "talkies" (read latest trends). Hollywood can't relate to a clockmaker, but a douchebag artist?  Sure. Scorsese deserved to win this. Also, while I've been typing this, the director is "speaking" although what he is saying cannot be understood by man (or God). 

10:47PM: Almost there.

10:44PM: Best Animated Short Film: Fantastic Flying Books of Morris Lessmore. I would have rather seen a few clips of The Real Ghostbusters take home this trophy.

10:40PM: Best Documentary Short Subject: Saving Face. Note to self: God is the Bigger Elvis would make a great name for an adult film.

10:38PM: Cast of Bridesmaids presents winner of Best Live-Action Short Film and proves that women aren't funny by making non-stop penis references. Nice work, ladies. The Shore wins. 

10:38PM: It's that time in the show where they reveal the "winners" of Oscars deemed too boring to televise.

10:33PM: Commercials. We're going to be punished with more Melissa McCarthy. Will she 1) be sexually aggressive 2) take a dump into a sink 3) Drop cymbals (hilariously) 4) all of the above. I vote secret answer 5) she will set fire to the Kodak Theater and all of its guests leaving a hole in Hollywood that can only be filled with more of those delightful Alvin and the Chipmunks animated movies.

10:31PM: Irony alert: Reese Witherspoon talks about what makes a film great to watch. I think they should probably ask people who have chosen to make good films. 

10:29PM: Best Original Screenplay: Woody Allen for Midnight in Paris. Eh, not a great film but better than a win for Bridesmaids. I think A Separation is a far better film.

10:25PM: Best Adapted Screenplay: I hope Bridesmaids wins. It was based on the book East of Eden by Steinbeck. Nah, it goes to Alexander Payne for The Descendants.

10:20PM: Remember that time cymbals were dropped? Hilarious. It's the one thing curiously absent from the Bible.

10:16PM: Best Original Song: Man or Muppets.  But also we're treated to hilarious cymbal-dropping from Will Ferrell.  How much cymbal-dropping is too much? Impossible to tell.  Lauging too hard. Ha, cymbal-dropping. 

10:13PM: Best Original Score? I hope it goes to me for those times when I whistle as I hug coworkers for an uncomfortable amount of time in the bathroom. Nope, it went to some guy for the Tom & Jerry-like score for The Artist. Man, the composer for Hugo must be pissed.

10:10PM: The President of the Academy is coming.  Why not go to the bathroom/Paraguay?

10:06PM: Billy Crystal is imagining the inner monologues of random oscar attendees.  I look into a mirror and loudly announce, "I wish I were dead." Right again.

10:04PM: Commercial for a talking iPhone that reads texts. Why not a talking toilet with the same technology? "You have received a text message from mom: Dad is in hospital." Whoooooooosshhhh (Sound of toilet flushing.)

10:02PM: Commercials. Last party game.

War Horse: Play World War. Rent two couches and arrange them so they are parallel to each other. Then, turn them over. Congratulations, you’ve finally re-created the trenches! Now, divide up your guests into two “sides” and force them to seek shelter underneath each of the two couches. Place the TV and the buffet spread in between the two couches (“No Man’s Land”) and throw wads of toilet paper or lamps at partygoers who attempt to eat food or use the restroom! Make the “Great War” into a “Great Party.”

9:59PM: Best Supporting Actor: Christopher Plummer. Good. This was such a great and subtle film that should have received more nominations for writing and directing. Plummer's performance deserves recognition. One hopes it will lead to more exposure for the film. By one I mean everyone from cirque du soleil.

9:54PM: Achievement in Visual Effects: I hope the team that made Glenn Close look like a man for 30 years wins. Team from Hugo wins.

9:51PM: Please stop showing us Melissa McCarthy in another sexually aggressive skit. I can't feel my genitals.

9:49PM: Commercials. Next round of party games.

Tree of Life. Mimicing the evolution shown in the film, release animals (chicken, birds, sharks) into the “wild” (read living room) and allow partygoers to catch, kill, and eat them. Or die trying.

9:47PM: Best Animated Film: Rango. Chris Rock gave a pretty good scathing look at V.O. work. Gore Verbinski, the guy who made The Weatherman, one of the best underated films of all time, accepts the award.

9:41PM: Best Documentary: I hope it's the one about my dad's athlete's foot diagnosis. Winner is Undefeated, which sounds like a better title for my dad's documentary.

9:40PM:Billy Crystal makes a Flomax joke. Bring back Cirque du soleil.

9:37PM: Weird. My interpretation of watching Cirque du Soleil involves a lot of strangling of pillows/babies and crotch-kicking of passersby/customers at Wendys.

9:36PM: Apparently, their interpretation involves a lot of flipping and forward rolls. I have a sneaking suspicion that their interpretation of most things like a trip to the DMV or taking STI medication involves forward rolls and flipping.

9:35PM: ALERT: There is a cirque du soleil interpretation of "what it's like to go to the movies."

9:34PM: Ah, Miss Piggy and Kermit -- the most adorable (and hilarious) abusive relationship since Whitney and Bobby Brown.

9:32PM: Billy Crystal is threatening us with cirque du soleil. I am saddened.

9:30PM: commercial. Another party game.

Moneyball: Call the Party. Once all of the guests arrive, turn on your wireless microphone and give a running play-by-play of the evening from start to finish. Calling out your friends’ marital problems/failed diets never sounded so good (or professional). (Bonus points if you can start a wave in the bathroom.)

9:28PM: Achievement in Sound Mixing? Don't they have separate, untelevised Oscar ceremonies for these awards? Hugo wins again. Oh man, this guy is crying. Keep it together, buddy. 

9:27PM: Only an hour and a half until I can drink whiskey and eat sandwiches in the shower. 

9:25PM: I feel like the winner and the loser for Sound Editing are not far from each other. Hugo wins.

9:23PM: Film Editing: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

9:20PM: Crystal presents a focus group parody. And it's... pretty good.

9:16PM: Editorial: The Artist is one of the worst movies ever made and I've seen both Weekend at Bernie's. Whenever I talk to people about the success of this film, they cite it's simplicity; however, Chaplin's silent films were complex -- he struggled to circumvent his technological limitations.  I am baffled by its popularity. The guy is simply a drama queen. During one scene, he sets fire to his place and just sits there and waits for a police officer to carry him out. If this movie wins, I won't leave America but I will send angry letters to God (and Norman Fell).

9:15PM: Commercial. Next party game.

Midnight in Paris. Kill yourself. Just like Hemingway – your favorite Lost Generation writer.

9:14PM: Spencer either thanked Allisson Channing or Alice in Chains. I hope it's the latter.

9:10PM: Best Supporting Actress. I hope Melissa McCarthy wins for being a sexually aggresive lady who takes dumps in sinks.  Octavia Spencer wins it. I guess, we'll just have to wait a few more years for a woman's taking a dump in a sink to be recognized by those misogynistic Academy members. 

9:06PM: Best Foreign Film: (AKA films seen by almost no one):  A Separation. This is a great film. I'm sure that its winning will result in its being seen by probably no one else.

9:06PM: Whenever Jerry Seinfeld pitches a "hilarious" commercial/movie/tombstone engraving, he should be catapulted into space.

9:04PM: Commercials. Next party game.

Hugo:Truth. Research your guests’ failed endeavors and reveal their broken dreams to everyone just like Hugo did to George Melies. Their emotional breakdowns may even rival Sir Ben Kingsley’s performance.

9:00PM: Ah, the actors are now pontificating about the buried reasons for the popularity of movies. I think it's because movies provide a respite from our sadness.  But maybe Hilary Swank is right and it's because they're "fun!"

8:58PM: Best Makeup: The Iron Lady. I agree.  It's hard to make Meryl Streep look like a woman.

8:53PM: Best Costume Design: Mark Bridges, The Artist.

8:50PM: Montage of "great films." Jaws, Indy, but where is Juwanna Man? 

8:49PM: McDonald's commercial in which a girl eats French fries and declares, "Loves me... loves me not." At the end, we see that he does love her because he brings her... more fries. Obesity has never been so charming.

8:46PM: Commercials.  Next party game.

The Help. Timeout. Select two random partygoers and tell them they will not be allowed to use your bathroom. Perfect for recreating the arbitrary prejudice captured in this powerful film.

8:44PM: The guy was wrong. It gets worse. Best Art Direction: Hugo. The winners are speaking but I am still haunted by the images of Melissa McCarthy taking a dump in a sink.

8:42PM: Finally, they are revealing the Best Cinematographer:Hugo, Robert Richardson.

8:40PM: This is surreal. If aliens chose this moment to visit Earth, they would brand us weak and enslave us immediately. Thanks, Billy Crystal.

8:38PM: There is no God. I knew it. Singing. Dancing. Whimsy. Hulk Angry.

8:35PM: Pretty decent opening. Now, the jokes.

8:33PM: Oh good.  More shots of Melissa McCarthy taking a dump in a sink. I wonder if that scene was from a movie or my fevered nightmares.

8:32PM:no singing or dancing so far.  

8:30PM: Morgan Freeman is here. I hope they show that clip of him bathing in a casket. If you're confused, check out my Golden Globes blog.

8:28PM: Commercials. Another party game.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close:Key Grab. Let your guests experience first-hand the frustration felt by Oskar Schell. Secretly lock their coats/medication/kids in a closet. Then, mid-way through the ceremony, dump a box filled with 500 keys onto the floor and tell them that only one of those keys fits the lock.

8:23PM: I am not a religious man but I pray that there is no song-and-dance number. And for world peace. In that order.

8:20PM: Good news. We're treated to a walk down a hallway with Tom Hanks. "Here's a hallway!"  "Here's the room where they talk!"  "Here's the toilet where they go to the bathroom/throw up!" Wow. What an age we live in.

8:17PM: Another party game:

The Descendants: Key party. Have everyone place their car keys into a bowl and let guests secretly hook-up with their friends’ partners in a back room. Then, during one of Billy Crystal’s hilarious song-and-dance numbers, have everyone reveal their betrayal. You’ll feel like you’ve been cuckolded, too.

8:15PM: Tim Gunn and some lady are deciding who wore the best dresses. Curiously absent from the list is Melissa McCarthy, that large girl from Bridesmaids and the boulder that ran over Indiana Jones.

8:13PM: Sandra Bullock is talking. I'm looking forward to more commercials... or for my nephew to get hit in the groin again.

8:10PM: George Clooney is here. Everyone says that guy is funny but it's probably because he's super handsome and girls simply laugh at the guy. When I gave his "witty" retorts to my nephew, women hit him in the groin with footballs/nuclear weapons. Well, that is pretty funny.

8:07PM: Commercials. Here's the first party game:

The Artist: Silent Party. Make everyone take a vow of silence upon entering your home. For a more authentic Artist vibe, suddenly confiscate your guests’ wallets and jewelry and turn off the power to recreate the feeling and surprise of the Great Depression – just like in the movie. When they protest, give them the “shhh” sound. Remember: no talking.

8:05PM: Good news. There is a countdown timer in the bottom left hand of the screen. When it reaches zero, I hope that guy Glenn Close disappears.

8:04PM: If you’re just joining me, I’m live-blogging the end of the world. It began several minutes ago when Tim Gunn gave a play-by-play of a celebrity’s dress as she walked in slow motion down the red carpet. Later, someone, it could have been the announcer (or God), said that we’ll soon see the moms of the nominees. Then, He called them the “MOMinees.” I suggest you head to your local bomb shelter OR if you are in possession of a nuclear bomb, please unleash it on us now before one of Billy Crystal’s hilarious song-and-dance numbers.

8:03PM: Best conversation so far: it’s a tie. 1) some lady and Emma Stone. During the conversation, the lady said, “Wow the civil rights movement is so tough… so what was it like seeing Ryan Gosling’s abs in person?” I hope she knows they are two different films.  2) The other conversation was between me and my rifle.  We both agreed it was time to say goodbye.

8:00PM: Hello everyone, It's Joe Piccirillo. You might know me as the writer of those fiction vs. reality columns, the live-blogger for the golden globes, and the guy who is living in your basement. Join me as I eviscerate tonight's festivities. It will (probably) be more fun than my live-blogging of my grandfather's funeral.

Throughout the night, I'll also provide some party games for you and your guests based on the nine best picture nominees. Enjoy.

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