Download PDF

“Shall we talk about the men?   They looked wonderful.  I assure you that Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin didn’t have an easy time with hosting and the jokes they wanted to play with.  When I hosted the Emmys, the elders warned me with, ‘You can’t say that!’” Our chief of fashion police, Joan Rivers, is assessing the Super Bowl of Cinema, the 82nd Oscarcast which kicked in with more viewers (41.3 million) than last year’s (36.3 million).    Proving, once again, that a blockbuster film like Jim Cameron’s Avatar can be counted on to draw legions of fans, as Titanic did in 1998 when the Oscars attracted 55 million viewers.  Why Avatar was bypassed for Best Picture and Best Director will be discussed by film buffs until death do us part.   

Those in attendance at the Kodak Theatre tweeted that they were restless, getting up and moving about, with fillers jumping in their seats.  But then isn’t this common with award shows, from the Grammys to the Golden Globes to the Independent Spirit Awards?  As the show moseyed along on the TV screen, one wished for a streaker to sprint across stage to create a frisson of excitement.    Typically, the show was overtime by a half-hour, with George Clooney confessing to  Hollywood Reporter columnist Roger Friedman that he smuggled a silver flask of booze for comfort through the longeurs. 

All the same, hosts Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin bantered with high spirits, not unlike road show vaudevillians.  Missing were the straw hats, canes, striped jackets, and their singing and dancing to that chestnut, When It’s Cherry Blossom Time in Orange, New Jersey We’ll Make a Peach of a Pair. 

Nominees were subjected to a whirlwind party schedule day and night.     Harvey Weinstein hosted his SoHo Club soiree, and we’ve learned that Canada’s Barry Avrich is producing a not-authorized documentary on Harvey (Barry not long ago produced the Lew Wasserman documentary).   Graydon Carter returned for his annual Vanity Fair dinner for 150 guests at the Sunset Tower, with piles of “toothpicks,” as the French call those invited after dinner, popping in for photo-ops and mini-burgers.  At one Vanity Fair dinner we attended, we sat with Monica Lewinsky, a charmer who we realized could easily seduce a Mr. President, and discovered she lived only several blocks away in our neighborhood.  Last we heard she was living abroad, having studied economics in London.

Norby Walters hosted his 20th Night of 100 Stars celebrating the Oscars in that beautiful Crystal Ballroom at the Beverly Hills Hotel, with banquet manager Eric Drachman overseeing a lovely dinner.    Norby’s represented dozens of musical artists, including Miles Davis, Patti LaBelle, Gladys Knight, the Temptations, the Four Tops, Marvin Gaye, Dizzy Gillespie, Teddy Pendergrass.   “I even owned a saloon in Brooklyn,” he says proudly. 

Sponsored by the tourist board from Portugal, Norby’s is a gemutlich evening, brimming with affection among those renewing friendships every year.   Congratulations are due to PR Edward Lozzi for his assistance in creating this event that’s relaxed and comfortable, with egos set aside for easygoing fun.

Here and there were Bo Derek with John Corbett, Larry and Maj Hagman, the Supremes’ Mary Wilson, Rachel and Ed Begley Jr., Patricia Kelly, baseball’s Hall of Famer  David Winfield and wife Tonya, Arthur Kassel, Michelle Phillips, Frances Fisher with daughter Francesca Eastwood, who was presented with international debutantes at the Crillon Hotel in Paris (Francesca’s dad is Clint Eastwood).

Also:  our Beverly Hills Courier publisher Clif Smith with wife Candace, our BHC associate publisher Marcia Hobbs, Jack Scalia, Tanya and Alan Thicke, Lois and Buzz Aldrin, Sally Kellerman, Edward James Olmos, Florence Henderson, Renee Taylor and Joe Bologna, Tom Sizemore, Coolio, Bruce Davison, Doris Roberts, Russ Tamblyn, Freda Payne, George Chakiris, Diane Baker, Dee Wallace, Ben McKenzie, Mary and Fred Willard, Sally Kirkland, Michael Nouri, Gloria Allred with Tiger Woods’ porn star Joslyn James. 

While the late producer Allan Carr’s been vilified for his 1989 Oscarcast and a silly opening number featuring Rob Lowe and Snow White, Allan merits credit for a few innovations.   Allan asked the presenters to announce that “the Oscar goes to,” rather than “the winner is,” although this time around only a few followed his intelligent advice.   Everyone’s a winner, he insisted, and how right he was.

Fashion savvy Allan was the first to encourage couturiers the likes of Karl Lagerfeld to dress the nominees.  Soon enough, international and American designers, from Giorgio Armani (“I’m always up for Hollywood”) to Carolina Herrera to Donatella Versace yearned to gown the stars who borrow priceless jewelry, with Joan Rivers on the watch as our favorite policewoman. 

“They’re dressing up, way better than in years past.  I loved Sandra Bullock, Anna Kendrick and Vera Farmiga’s gowns.  And Jennifer Lopez’s.  Jennifer practiced walking in it at home – now that’s a trooper,” offered Joan.  “But what happened to Sarah Jessica Parker, that fashionista from her Sex and the Schmattas series.   A great body, but she flunked.  Barbra Streisand’s outfit was her homage to Martha Washington, perfect for a weekend visit to Williamsburg.   Let’s pray it wasn’t her friend Donna Karan’s.

“As for Charlize Theron, Kathryn Bigelow and others wearing satin, I yell ouch!  Satin trips you up, is unforgiving and shows every flaw. Kathryn showed a bit of a tummy, satin does it every time.”

A beauty who’s 58 yet looks not a day past 30, Kathryn was a class act dedicating her Oscars to the men in uniform.   An athlete, she’s climbed Mount Kilimanjaro.   Her boyfriend is Oscar-winning screenwriter Mark Boal. 

One of the best Oscar parties was hosted by the William Morris/Endeavor Agency’s Ed Limato, who represents Denzel Washington, Richard Gere, Claire Danes, and Steve Martin.  We christened Ed “the barefoot host in the Versace shirt,” at his historic mansionette where he welcomed guests for ages until two years ago.   More than 400 of Hollywood’s Who’s Who wined, dined, schmoozed and tickled one another until the early hours.    Dick Powell built the magnificent residence for wife Joan Blondell, later occupied by Betty Grable and lover George Raft, whose “endowment” became legend through the decades.   We’re told by the fabled Parisian Florist staff in Hollywood, a favorite of Howard Hughes and notables of that era, that “jokey” floral arrangements inspired by Raft’s endowment were often ordered by friends.

Another party not forgotten is Irving “Swifty” Lazar’s Oscar night jamarama, crowded as a rush hour on a the subway, that he initially hosted at the Bistro (where Mastro’s is now), then at the Bistro Garden,  before taking over Spago, which we’d suggested.   Wolfgang Puck and his major domo Tom Kaplan had asked if we might host the part.  But we knew that Swifty, a feisty character and literary agent who never read manuscripts by his best-selling authors, yet made big-time deals, would be the ideal host. 

Nothing at that time compared to Swifty’s guest lists. You couldn’t move without bumping into every studio titan, powerhouse agents, Billy and Audrey  Wilder, Elizabeth Taylor or Audrey Hepburn.   One night we sipped and supped between Elizabeth and Audrey, with Audrey eyeing Elizabeth’s emerald-and-diamond chandelier earrings.   “Kenny Lane?” nodded Audrey to Elizabeth (Kenny being the acclaimed faux jeweler of our time), with Elizabeth shaking her head, “No, Mike Todd!”  (Mike being her showman husband.)   Audrey then nodded to Elizabeth’s magnificent emerald-and-diamond necklace.   “Ah, Kenny Lane,” smiled Audrey, convinced she now had it right.  “No, no, no,” scolded Elizabeth.  “Richard Burton!”  (Richard being the husband she married twice.)   Yes, we were there, and heard it firsthand.