Feb 14, 2006 03:41 PM
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Hollywood, 1:48 PM
Fri Mar 19
54 posts in the last 24 hours
It was visual effects supervisor geeks' one big chance a year to hit up Charlize Theron for her phone number yesterday (though they would have to get past her mother Gerda first) at the annual Oscar nominees luncheon, held at the Beverly Hilton. In addition to receiving their "nomination certificates" and official Oscar nominee sweatshirts (keep your eyes peeled and your "Oscar memorabilia" search preferences saved, eBayers!) the luncheon also provided the giddy nominees an opportunity to clown around and enjoy themselves, free of the eyes of the broadcast's oft-touted audience of "one billion viewers." Triple-nominee George Clooney even managed to squeeze in a potshot at the Vice President, which, while not quite as inspired as his Golden Globes "Who would name their kid 'Jack' with 'off' at the end?" Jack Abramoff-skewering knee-slapper, still managed to have the crowd in stitches:
Known as one of Hollywood's most stalwart liberals, Clooney drew a laugh at a pre-lunch press conference when he said, "I am bringing Dick Cheney as my date. He was so nice. He called me and invited me to go hunting." [...]
They feasted on "surf and turf," sea bass and fillet, traded gossip and posed for a group photograph in which Joaquin Phoenix, nominated for best actor playing singer Johnny Cash in "Walk The Line," almost stumbled into a giant Oscar statue when it came his turn to accept a nomination certificate and Oscar shirt.
Attendees, including such Hollywood luminaries as Clooney, director Steven Spielberg and past Oscar Winner Charlize Theron, listened intently as Academy Awards telecast producer Gil Cates delivered his traditional warning to winners to keep their speeches short and sweet.
"Who says an acceptance speech should be about gratitude," he growled, warning people to thank as few as possible.
He also served notice: "You pull out a piece of paper and the next thing you will hear is a very large orchestra."
As Spielberg, nominated for Munich, listened to the telecast producer's admonitions, the rambling, patronizing speech soon faded out, replaced by his own voice, grumbling, "I directed fucking Schindler's List. You know what that means? It means I can pull out the Burbank white pages and read letters F to Q if I feel like it. Now get off the stage and let them serve dessert."
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