Chat transcript follows: Come by this space Monday at 2 p.m. to hash over the outrages and overkill (or underwhelmingness) of Oscar 2009. I'll be your host and will take all responsibility for office-pool ballots that went south on my account.

Kate Winslet just finished her post-win press conference, and she's in rare form, taking even the oddest questions like a pro. Despite those two bad movies, Lady Kate, I'm happy you're happy.

By the way, here are the current top Google searches, most of which are Oscar-related -- this includes Will Smith's "dynamite" joke about his flub.

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100. tasha scott

"Jai Ho," people. "Jai Ho." "Slumdog Millionaire" wins best picture and eight of its 10 nominations, losing only to itself in best song and to "The Dark Knight" in sound editing. (How many best-picture winners has Steven Spielberg announced?) There are about 700 people on stage. It's an impressive, mystifying story how this movie came to conquer the world. Frankly, I'm glad it's all over. It's been wearying talking up "Milk" in the shadow of "Slumdog" all these months. Of course, for Mumbai the party is just starting, depending on where on the "Slumdog" divide Mumbaikar stand. Me? I'm standing so I can pee. My legs haven't moved in six hours. Jai ho, everybody. Thanks for sitting with me.

Another impressive gang of past winners, this time for best actor. But it's already off to a dubious start with Michael Douglas telling Frank Langella that his Richard Nixon is the definitive movie portrait while Anthony Hopkins stands on the same stage. Robert De Niro reroutes things, saying to Sean Penn that it's amazing that he's gotten away with playing straight guys for all these years (I know!). Adrien Brody does Richard Jenkins. Hopkins does Brad Pitt, and Ben Kingsley does Mickey Rourke. I wonder if they drew straws to pick the man they salute.

The Oscar goes to Sean Penn. "You commie homo-loving sons of guns," he says, depriving us what was sure to be a speech for the ages from Mickey Rourke. Penn says something nice about Rourke and proclaims the need for the passing of gay marriage laws. It's a decent acknowledgment of a political moment, and a far milder speech than Penn could have given. Is it possible that a little of Milk's elegance is now part permanently part of Penn? Could he be hosting the show in top hat and tails next year? Also, one of the few American winners this evening, for what it's worth.

That is a titanic best-actress assembly to pay tribute to this year's actress nominees. MacLaine. Berry. Kidman. Cotillard. And Loren. I'm tearing up. I'm not sure why. It's really quite wonderful. MacLaine's words to Anne Hathaway are really those of an acting coach and a grandmother: a private, seemingly heartfelt appreciation for the whole world to hear. Under these circumstances, they're all winners, but the Oscar goes to Kate Winslet, and the crowd goes a little bit nuts. She's just asked her father to whistle so she can find him. He does. Who is this man, with the nice hat and sly grin? Mickey Rourke eat your heart out. (Quick research reveals Papa Winslet is an actor, too.) This is Winslet's best speech of her recent circuit. The "suck it up" moment to Meryl Streep is practically Streepian.

It's best director time, as presented by Reese Witherspoon to Danny Boyle, who first pays tribute to Tigger and the people who've put the show on. How nice. He goes on to thank Mumbai, which is also nice. So it's probable I'll be very wrong about a best-picture win for "Milk," but there's still plenty of time for anything to happen, and it looks like there are only three awards left.

Queen Latifah sings during the necrology. Cyd Charisse. Bernie Mac. Bud Stone. Van Johnson. Kon Ichikawa. Roy Scheider. Michael Crichton. Nina Foch. Robert Mulligan. Richard Widmark. Claude Berri. Paul Scofield. Ricardo Montalban. Isaac Hayes. Jules Dassin. James Whitmore. Charlton Heston. Anthony Minghella. Sydney Pollack. Paul Newman. Where's my Kleenex?

Wow, it's our first real upset! "Departures" wins best foreign-language film over "Waltz with Bashir." It's the one of the nominees I didn't see. But whenever this happens, it means the movie will probably break somebody's heart and be FedEx-ed to American art houses in minutes.

It's time for original score and song -- or, as we call it at my house, proofreading time. I'm back and -- catty comment alert -- what happened to Zac Efron's hair and Alicia Keys's makeup (she looks like she missed the cut for "RuPaul's Drag Race")? They give the original score award to A.R. Rahman for "Slumdog Millionaire" then introduce the three song-nominee performances.

Uh-oh: It's brown-people night at the Anytown, U.S.A. cultural center. But hold up, it's also "Jai Ho" from "Slumdog Millionaire." That's my jam. This "live" version sounds a little canned, though, and John Legend interrupting the exuberance doesn't help (John, I don't want a Frappuccino!). Danny Boyle grips his face -- not at John Legend (as far I can tell), but at all these prizes. I think the reality is sinking in: You're going to have to give a speech in a few minutes. The commercial break seems wrong: The "Slumdog" dancers were still working as the producers cut away.

This feels like it's zipping by. Although: I'm a little desperate for something to make up for Luhrmann's train-wreck. It's already time for the Jerry Lewis tribute (is it really after 10:30? ) Eddie Murphy is presenting Lewis his Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. Lewis looks great, more like himself than I can remember. If only the clip show had been longer. It barely exceeded the length of his short, sweet speech.

Tom Cruise just made me laugh in a Jimmy Kimmel promo. This is a man who needs more comedies. We want to laugh with him, at him, through him. Whatever. Just stop with the piety. By the way, is he our $4 billion man? Speaking of money: We're on to the montage for action movies, which is excitingly assembled but kind of problematic since the Academy still doesn't have a category for stunt work.

Will Smith has just risen out of the floor to do the effects categories. This, I believe, is our $4 billion man. The tux alone must be worth at least two. "Benjamin Button" wins visual effects. "The Dark Knight" wins sound editing. (Is that movie's co-writer and director, Christopher Nolan, seated in the nose-bleeds?) "Slumdog Millionaire" wins sound mixing; and one of the three winners, Resul Pookutty, is beside himself. Chris Dickens wins film editing for "Slumdog Millionaire." So for those of you keeping score at home, I think that's three/three for "Slumdog."

Albert Maysles has made an engrossing documentary tribute to the nominated documentary directors. Then presenter Bill Maher comes out and pays tribute to himself. James Marsh, who made "Man on Wire," about Philippe Petit's walk across the World Trade Center towers, wins. Petit joins the filmmakers onstage and balances his Oscar on his lips, which is almost as brilliant as James Franco and Seth Rogen's trying to turn Janusz Kaminski's two Oscars into bongs. ("Smile Pinki," about children with cleft palates in India, wins the documentary short category. I saw none of these short documentaries movies, I'm embarrassed to say. Congratulations, Megan Mylan.)

Five supporting-actor winners from the past salute the supporting actor nominees of this year. This isn't as touching as the supporting-actress nominees, but it is a veritable "where are they now?" moment - Joel Grey, Cuba Gooding Jr., Kevin Kline. Gooding turns his serenade of Robert Downey into the sort of entertaining cultural commentary that makes you sad he doesn't make watchable movies anymore. Just underwear commercials. (Show him the roles. Please.) His plea for better parts for black actors is a really a plea for himself. Maybe somebody's listening. Maybe they've seen "Radio," and it's just too late.

Kline does a classy job with the Heath Ledger portion of the salute (he's got good writing to work with). Ledger's family accepts his Oscar. Kate Winslet tears up again. Anne Hathaway and Angelina Jolie go misty, too. Ladies, save something for your category.

Sorry mom, it's Beyoncé, who will now proceed to have a razzle-dazzle-off with Hugh Jackman. They're performing every song to appear in a movie ever, including from "High School Musical 3." This is the first low of the evening. It's a Vegasy low. I'm expecting to Siegfried and Roy. Céline, perhaps. It's not gay. It's not good. It's not even bad. Just -- how you say? -- off. And I suspect Beyoncé knows it. She's a perfectionist, and it appears she was lip-synching, which I don't think she's done since Destiny's Child. Baz Luhrmann put this number together, and he's been exposed. Most of the songs are terrible. But, really, he's not a live-theater guy, despite those operas he's done. This thing was a conceptual mess (why have Seyfried, Hudgens, Efron, and Dominic Cooper also crowd in Jackman and Beyoncé? Luhrmann needs a camera to frame action then hack it up. Here he crams the stage with nonsense. That might have been worse than anything in any "High School Musical."

James Franco and Seth Rogen are "Pineapple Express"-ing the hell out of their filmed montage, which Rogen and Judd Apatow wrote. It's funny as they laugh at clips from "The Reader" and "Doubt" while confusing Stellan Skarsgard in "Mamma Mia!" with Bill Nighy and Ray Winstone, which even the non-stoned do. Things turn surreal when Janusz Kaminski shows up. The trio appears live to present live-action short, which "Toyland" wins and which I did not think should win. I meant to say it will. But some kind of transposition in the print paper (and subsequently online) made suggested that I thought "Manon on the Asphalt" would win. It didn't have a shot. But it was the best of the five.

In an accidental tribute to Hanna Schmitz of "The Reader," Jessica Biel, this year's science-awards host, fights to prove her literacy. Meanwhile, her dress fights itself not to eat the rest of her. This could be something from a 1950s horror movie, with Vincent Price: William Castle presents "The Dress!" It's unclear at the moment who made it, but it doesn't look like it would survive a "Project Runway" judging. Notice Tim Gunn didn't go near Biel during the pre-show.

Ben Stiller does a nifty brokedown-Joaquin Phoenix impersonation that was a big hit when someone else did it last night at the Spirit Awards. Marisa Tomei really likes Stiller's. Natalie Portman plays the gamely exasperated straight woman. And as Stiller's bit turns peripatetic, the camerapeople improvise with him. Conveniently, the category is cinematography, which Anthony Dod Mantle wins for "Slumdog Milllionaire."

We're on to a montage of romance in 2008, presented by Robert Pattinson and Amanda Seyfried, whose dress, sadly, I am no longer that into. It's interesting: montages that reach back to last year as opposed to the last 60 years, as is customary at this show. There's a single clip from "Milk" and about six from "Benjamin Button." Oh, well. When it's over, one of the announcers says, "Stay tuned for an appearance by an actor whose movies have made over $4 billion dollars!" I guess we love money, too.

Red carpet fairy Sarah Jessica Parker and the sexiest man in the room (sorry, Mr. Jackman), Daniel Craig, are giving away art direction, costumes, and makeup. They've got no human chemistry, but their clothes are in love. (Donald Graham Burt and Victor J. Zolfo, of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," win for art direction; a very nervous Michael O'Connor of "The Duchess" wins for costume, which I ought to have known; and Greg Cannon wins for makeup for "Benjamin Button".) How smart to turn three categories in one well-produced sequence. They've really thought about how to make this seem classily smooth, not hasty and desperate. It's working.

I hate hot girl-fat guy pairings, but Jennifer Aniston and Jack Black really have something. They're presenting a montage looking back on the year in animation. This is another way of lessening the blow of not being nominated or winning, or, in this case, not being "WALL-E," which wins the Oscar. Andrew Stanton, wearing a velour wall-hanging, seems pleased and reveals that he was once cast in a production of "Hello Dolly." I'm not kidding about the Broadway-ness of things.

Holy cow! "La Maison en Petits Cubes" wins best animated short! That was a surprise even if I predicted it (It's a wonderful movie). The director Kunio Katô, who's Japanese, says, "Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto," which is what I would have said had I won.

Steve Martin and Tina Fey are here doing more comedy than you get from most movies in a single year. They're presenting the screenplay award (they're writers, too). While the clips play, words from the scripts appear onscreen, and Martin and Fey take turns reading. I'll stop Jess Cagle-ing soon, I promise, but this is a real salute to the movies. Dustin Lance Black wins original screenplay for "Milk." This is a much better speech than the one he gave at the Spirit Awards yesterday. He mentions gay rights. It's political but far more eloquent than the usual political awards speech. It's personal, too. It's how you'd expect a writer (and Harvey Milk acolyte) to express himself. Cut awkwardly back to Martin and Fey feigning heterosexual love.

But somebody has to win and it's Penélope Cruz, deservingly for "Vicky Cristina Barcelona." She thanks Pedro Almodovar, and shares the award with her fellow Spanish actors and Hispanics all over the world. Kate Winslet is in tears. So am I. Could they keep this up for four more hours? These salutes really emphasize that at the end of the day the Oscar is not just a peer-to-peer award or a commercial for Hollywood, it's about a kind of very exclusive, highly visible fandom.

Supporting Actress winners of yore have just walked in to welcome someone new to the club. This is special. Eva Marie Saint isn't just a member, she's also a fan -- in this case, of Viola Davis, who can't quite believe it. This might be better than winning. "Bless you, Amy," says a very funny (if tackily dressed) Whoopi Goldberg to Amy Adams. The writers are making it work, too. Judging from the tears in everybody's eyes, the nominees are already winners.

So the show has begun. Will anyone watch? The set looks great in a throwback-to-the 1930s way -- the crystal curtain, the vaguely Art-Deco set. Hugh Jackman, the showman with the GQ face and triple-X name, might turn out to be a genius host. He'll kill himself for a standing ovation.

Who did this opening production number, with the homemade sets? It's very Michel Gondry. But the number's themselves... We're at the Tonys. "Ohhh, Nixon," Jackman moans to Anne Hathaway, who carried on the stage King Kong/Rhett Butler style. This sequence was really special, including the shout-out to the barely nominated "Dark Knight." The giant auditorium feels like a cabaret. It's like he's sitting on my lap. (Again: not that I'd like that. No, not me.)

Here's a preview from Patrick Goldstein in the Los Angeles Times of how tonight's show might go:

"In its slightly madcap devotion to tradition, the academy insists that all of the awards, no matter how obscure, must be given out on camera--compared to say, the Grammys, which only presents 8 or 10 of their 100-plus awards on their telecast. With the Oscars, once you add the musical numbers, the tribute to deceased luminaries, honorary awards and host and presenter patter, you don't have much time to try anything new. That hasn't stopped Mark and Condon from broadly hinting to virtually every reporter they've talked to--including me, at lunch the other day--that they're determined to freshen up the awards as much as possible. Besides the most obvious change--hiring Hugh Jackman as host--they've brought in Baz Luhrmann to do a big production number, have Judd Apatow paying tribute to comedies (the wildly popular genre that, ahem, never wins any awards), asked documentary legend Albert Maysles to celebrate documentaries and persuaded Queen Latifah to sing a show tune during the in-memoriam segment. There are sure to be other surprises as well, starting with a new look for the audience seating."

Robin Roberts pays tribute to Richard Jenkins, and the rest of America says, "That's who that guy is!" It's a sweet moment. And Tim Gunn just told supporting-actress nominee Marisa Tomei, whose dress has grown on me, that he prefers her with her clothes on. Merely the first indication of how gay the evening will be. I'm so excited.

Wow, a montage of clips in tribute to movie accountants. That is so Boston Globe charticle.

The fawning job this year falls to Entertainment Weekly's new boss Jess Cagle, who appears to be personifying the magazine's recent we-heart-everything tone. He just told Miley Cyrus that she'll be on this carpet a lot. He's probably right, but seriously.

Not to go bananas with this, but Tim Gunn is -- to paraphrase Tim Gunn -- making it work. How cool is it that he's talking to Valentino? There are so many televisions that are turned off right now. It's great. The elegant Robin Roberts is with all of "Slumdog Millionaire" and makes talking to an entire megalopolis look easy. She is also about three Efrons tall. Amazing. (Zac basically just told her he wants Dev Patel's phone number. Vanessa Hudgens didn't bat an eyelash.) Now she's with Viola Davis, who looks great in gold.

Tim Gunn, where have you been all this show's life? You have taste. You have class. You have wit. And no matter how complimentary you are, you never seem to fawn. You know who made the clothes and really care about how they look on their wearers. You just paid your respects to the Pitt-Jolies and seemed relatively unfazed (no need to clean up your area!). If this is any indication of how the evening might go from a competence standpoint: Woo-hoo.

So I've crossed over to ABC, which is likely to be a lollapalooza compared to E! -- and it is. There's an editor and some enthusiasm. ABC has stolen the other network's punctuation trademark. It's ABC! for now.

Philip Seymour Hoffman: obviously one of our great actors, not one of our great dressers. Lots of dark, mis-tailored fabric. If I can be that writer: I have "Doubts" about his outfit. He's wearing a Snuggie. Cut to the be-tuxed Daniel Craig who, with all due respect to the opposite sex, looks stunning. Jessica Biel's dress comes with a bib, perfect for men who plan to drool on her -- that includes you, Mr. Timberlake.

With all due respect to Sam Mendes, Kate Winslet should be Daniel Craig's date - her dress looks royal (it's blue) but there's some kind of beading creeping across it that seems, to my teenage mind, like comic-book netting. It's chic and science-fictional, and I think I love it. Stan Lee, what about you? Meanwhile, Tilda Swinton, in two outfits (frilly and champagne on top, loose and black on bottom), has come dressed as Winslet's nemesis -- it's a joke on elegance. Her Marvel Comics name would be Tilda Two Tone.

The Pitt-Jolies have arrived, and Giuliana is having an orgasm. I can't say I disagree. The matching sheen is Olympics-caliber (synchronized glamour?). Really, it's the little things about them that make me happy. Those emerald earrings on her. The Clark Gable mustache part of Mr. Pitt's goatee. Excuse me, I'm going to go tidy up my area.

How could it be that Mickey Rourke is the best-dressed man at the show? White suit, black vest, lots of accessories (more than the ladies). He could have used a little more tailoring (yes, I just typed that, but it's true). In any case: This, gentlemen, is how to not wear a tuxedo to an event.

Queen Latifah is with Ryan. She's performing, too? Sweet Beyoncé! How many production numbers will there be? There are only three song nominees.

I know what I've been saying about colors. But Anne Hathaway's dress is pretty incredible. More sequins, but these, unlike Miley Cyrus's, belong in a museum of marine biology, not in a bento box.

Natalie Portman in pink! I couldn't see the dress but colors look great in high-definition. More of those, please. Robert Pattinson looks like a pre-asylum Michael Shannon. The Hair -- the magical hair -- is on its way back, "Twilight" girls. You can love him again.

Things are picking up on the carpet. Yet something is off. Sarah Jessica Parker is making it OK, though. She's like a red-carpet fairy, isn't she? She's brought her husband, Matthew Broderick, and is appearing to love him out loud. ("No, it's midnight blue!" she corrects Ryan, while stroking a tuxedo that looks black to me. ) For his part, Broderick looks like he ate something bad -- maybe all the tabloid-magazine covers rudely speculating on his fidelity.

Heidi Klum ought to be at every awards show. That, to me, is A Dress - red, slitted, origami-asymmetry, and a shoulder situation that seems to have a life of its own. On anybody else, that dress would be wearing them. She has a lovely haircut, great jewels, and enthusiasm. She knows she looks good. So does Taraji P. Henson, who just hiked up her gown to show us all, courtesy of Ryan (everything seems lost on him), her ankle tribute to her late father.

I wish Marisa Tomei had gone for the hyperactive pilates-instructor look she sported to perfection at the Golden Globes. Tonight, in a porcelain one-piece, she looks tamed. The great Melissa Leo, though, has a better dress than she did last night at the Spirit Awards. This one is monotone, though not quite monotonous (and how about that Jane Fonda hair?). Amanda Seyfriend, Meryl Streeps's daughter in "Mamma Mia!," looks great, also in red with a giant, elaborate bow. I like Amy Adams's necklace. It's like somebody threw a candy dish around her neck.

Some discussion of supporting-actress nominee Taraji P. Henson's gown. It's pretty, has a gorgeous tail, but I wish it had more color. Meanwhile, Ryan talks to Dev Patel and Freida Pinto ("Are the rumors true? Are you guys dating?," interrupts Giuliana. If only our congresspeople would cut to the chase like that.) During their talk, a woman with giant breasts lurks in the background. Apparently, she's attached to the Starbucks soundtrack generator John Legend, who apparently loves "Slumdog Millionaire." As Ryan talks to Danny Boyle, the director of "Slumdog Millionaire," he inquires whether Boyle brought anyone else from "the slums" to the show. Oh, Ryan!

The kids from "Slumdog Millionaire" are on the carpet. Ryan can't pronounce their names. He can't speak Hindi. What good is he? "Wow, she speaks good English," he says of one of the actors. "Those kids are delicious!" says Giuliana. Not as much as Miley Cyrus's dress, but if you're into eating small Asian actors...

Supporting-actor nominee Michael Shannon has hit the carpet. He's selected the same pouffed-out hairdo that made Drew Barrymore look like Tippi Hedren in the climax of "The Birds." Don't worry, Michael. You can be Suzanne Pleshette.

Vanessa Hudgens, who's a doll in the literal sense, compared herself to a "young Audrey Hepburn." She was talking about her cheap-looking dress (sorry, Marchesa), and still it was jarring. She and her partner in chastity, Zac Efron, might be doing a number together. Heaven help us.

A gentleman on E! just announced some kind of elaborate, "dramatic" presenter situation. It could be interesting, but, really it sounds very much like "Deal or No Deal."

The new producers, Larry Mark and Bill Condon, attempt to upstage the gawking foreplay might be working. This is the slowest pre-show ever.

So here we are on the red carpet with E!. How will they fill two hours with stuff to do, if the rumors are true -- that the presenters have to use a special entrance to preserve freshness for the actual show? That would imply that being on the red carpet this year is lame. There's Virginia Madsen. There's Anthony Hopkins (so tan)! What on earth will the E! Star Tracker track?

Giuliana DePandi has brought out the movie-hyper Ben Lyons for his predictions. Ryan Seacrest and Miley Cyrus discuss her dress. It's some kind of scalloped, sequined, scaled thing. The shell-buckled belt forces the issue. Not only is she seaworthy tonight. In that dress, she's sushi-worthy, too. "I'll have one Hannah Montana Dragon Boat, please."

In other news, Hugh Jackman just told told Giuliana about all the big surprises that he can't talk about - the intimacy, the spontaneity, the exclusivity ("whatever happens tonight can happen only at the Oscars"). This, of course, makes me think Mr. Jackman will be hosting the show from my living room. (Not that I'd want him to or anything. No, not me.)

I'll be chatting live about the Oscar nominations, Sundance, and other movie-related news today at 1 p.m. in this space. Come on by and rant (or rave).

Oscar nominees Taraji P. Henson and Brad Pitt in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

And now the nation's euphoria shifts, for a few minutes, from Obama to Oscar. The nominations are here, and, as these things go, they're pretty fascinating. Because the Academy needs a big, long, costumed spectacle (no, "Australia," not you), "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" wound up with 13 nominations, including picture, director for David Fincher (I'll pretend it's for "Zodiac"), and an actor nomination for Brad Pitt. This is a fascinating list, both for what's on it and what isn't. The Reader?" Really? It did better than at least I thought it would -- picture, director, screenplay, cinematography, and actress – which means there are a lot of people in Hollywood who take their Holocaust movies with a cup of tea. That, or they truly miss the film's producers Sydney Pollack and Anthony Minghella, both of whom died last year.

Meanwhile, "The Dark Knight," released by ailing Warner Bros, was too dark for these cautiously optimistic times, which, in part, is why "Slumdog Millionaire" received 10 nominations, including one for picture and another for director, while Batman and, to some extent, "WALL-E" are snubbed. (One's origins as a comic book and the other's being a cartoon should not be discounted, either.)

"Milk" feels like a movie of our moment, especially in the Academy’s California backyard, where tussling over the legalization of gay marriage continues. More important is the possibility that the Academy, this year, wants to see light amid the dark at this putatively hopeful juncture. Harvey Milk, for all practical purposes, represents Obaman social, cultural, and political change. While “Slumdog Millionaire” sends its camera careening through the ghettos, call centers, torture chambers, and corruptly hosted game shows of Mumbai to come back with the happy, if hardly front-page, news that love is all you need. Even “Frost/Nixon,” with its toothless, postlapsarian Tricky Dick suddenly seems to have a defensive bright side: Dude, the White House is in such better hands now.

The movie industry tends to skew liberal and sentimental – last year’s “There Will Be Blood”/”No Country for Old Men” combo notwithstanding. But you have to ask how Christopher Nolan’s “Dark Knight,” with its dystopic metropolis and neo-con homeland security ideas, might have been received under a McCain presidency. Oh, well. For now, it’s all good, as they say. Unless, of course, you happen to be Sally Hawkins, whose unstoppable optimism in “Happy-Go-Lucky” didn’t seem to cut it for the actors branch, which went with five comparatively somber performances for best actress. (Ok, four. “Doubt” is a comedy, right?)

Kate Winslet’s nomination for “The Reader” in that category, alongside Anne Hathaway, Angelina Jolie, Melissa Leo, and Meryl Streep, was also interesting. The people who arranged these awards campaigns saw that Winslet had two steaming prestige movies (“The Reader” and “Revolutionary Road”) hurtling toward earth – or at least toward the best actress category, where there’s room for only one performance per performer. Sensing disaster, Winslet’s work as a Nazi prison guard on trial was downgraded to a supporting part, which is like calling an SUV a big-wheel. That strategy won her two Golden Globes and two Screen Actors Guild nominations. The Academy, however, saw differently. Winslet was nominated for “The Reader” (the better of her two problematic performances) not “Revolutionary Road,” a movie whose only major nomination came for Michael Shannon, who almost literally brings the house down as a mental patient who visits Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio for dinner.

The poor showing for that movie suggests that it was probably too pristine for voters. It snagged nominations for art direction and costume design, apt acknowledgements that the director Sam Mendes had made a dollhouse of Richard Yates’s novel. Of course, if the Academy is averse to expensive-looking furniture dressed up as filmmaking, how does one explain “Frost/Nixon” or “The Reader”? Well, that’s important furniture. (“The Reader”’s most crucial nomination is for Chris Menges and Roger Deakins's cinematography.)

It’s interesting to note that the director of “The Reader,” Stephen Daldry, has made three movies (“Billy Elliot” and “The Hours” are the others) and now has three director nominations. This is a remarkable, unparalleled average. It’s also inexplicable. But Daldry excels at a certain kind of tastefulness that both audiences and an industry can admire. Of his movie, only “Billy Elliot” is alive with any kind filmmaking verve. These other two movies are triumphs of middlebrow self-congratulation: I’ve captured suffering, cooked it, and served it with a lime risotto.

Three of Daldry’s fellow nominees – Gus Van Sant, David Fincher, and Danny Boyle – have been recognized for some of their more accessible and popular work, which is hardly a crime. It's just very Oscar. In Van Sant’s case, he puts his brilliant avant-garde-film ideas to work in “Milk,” a rousing, unconventional act of movie biography that turns one man’s story into the story of a movement. Fincher directs up such a storm in “Benjamin Button” that choosing to bookend the movie with Hurricane Katrina’s approach seems redundant. And I prefer Boyle in a less hectic frame of mind (“28 Days Later” being a gonzo exception), but his movie, despite its script and character problems, at least brims with color and life.

More blathering to follow in the coming weeks. The actual broadcast – the 81st – is on February 22nd.

And the nominees are...

PICTURE
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
“Frost/Nixon”
“Milk
“The Reader”
“Slumdog Millionaire”

ACTRESS
Anne Hathaway, “Rachel Getting Married”
Angelina Jolie, “Changeling”
Melissa Leo, “Frozen River”
Meryl Streep, “Doubt”
Kate Winslet, “The Reader”

ACTOR
Frank Langella, “Frost/Nixon”
Sean Penn, “Milk”
Brad Pitt, “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
Mickey Rourke, “The Wrestler”
Richard Jenkins, “The Visitor”

SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Amy Adams, “Doubt”
Penelope Cruz, “Vicky Cristina Barcelona”
Viola Davis, “Doubt”
Taraji P. Henson, “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
Marisa Tomei, “The Wrestler”

SUPPORTING ACTOR
Josh Brolin, “Milk”
Robert Downey Jr., “Tropic Thunder”
Philip Seymour Hoffman, “Doubt”
Heath Ledger, “The Dark Knight”
Michael Shannon, “Revolutionary Road”

DIRECTOR
Danny Boyle, “Slumdog Millionaire”
Stephen Daldry, “The Reader”
David Fincher, “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
Ron Howard, “Frost/Nixon”
Gus Van Sant, “Milk”

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
“The Baader-Meinhof Complex” (Germany)
“The Class” (France)
“Departures” (Japan)
“Revanche” (Austria)
“Waltz with Bashir” (Israel)

This is a link to the complete list. (More soon.)

Tomorrow morning the Oscar nominations arrive, and there's some last-minute speculation about who and what will be in or, in the immortal word of Heidi Klum, out. For now, I'll make a drive-by list of the six major categories and tomorrow will apply more thought (but not too much, I swear).

PICTURE
Certainly: "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," "Milk," "Slumdog Millionaire"
Probably: "Frost/Nixon," "The Dark Knight,"
Maybe, but probably not: "Doubt," "Gran Torino," "The Reader," "Revolutionary Road"
Hopefully: "WALL-E"

DIRECTOR
Certainly: Danny Boyle, "Slumdog Millionaire"; David Fincher, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"; Gus Van Sant, "Milk"
Probably: Ron Howard, "Frost Nixon"; Christopher Nolan, "The Dark Knight"
Maybe, but probably not: Stephen Daldry, "The Reader"; Sam Mendes, "Revolutionary Road"; Clint Eastwood, "Gran Torino"
Hopefully: Andrew Stanton, "WALL-E"

ACTOR
Certainly: Frank Langella, "Frost/Nixon"; Sean Penn, "Milk"; Mickey Rourke, "The Wrestler"
Probably: Clint Eastwood, "Gran Torino"; Brad Pitt, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"
Maybe, but probably not: Tom Cruise, "Valkyrie"; Leonardo DiCaprio "Revolutionary Road"; Colin Farrell, "In Bruges"
Hopefully: Richard Jenkins, "The Visitor"

ACTRESS
Certainly: Anne Hathaway, "Rachel Getting Married"; Meryl Streep, "Doubt"; Kate Winslet, "Revolutionary Road"
Probably: Angelina Jolie, "Changeling"; Sally Hawkins, "Happy-Go-Lucky"
Maybe, but probably not: Kristin Scott-Thomas, "I Loved You So Long"; Michelle Williams, "Wendy and Lucy"
Hopefully: Melissa Leo, "Frozen River"

SUPPORTING ACTOR
Certainly: Josh Brolin, "Milk"; Robert Downey Jr., "Tropic Thunder"; Heath Ledger, "The Dark Knight"
Probably: Philip Seymour Hoffman, "Doubt"; Dev Patel in "Slumdog Millionaire"
Maybe, but probably not: Aaron Eckhart, "The Dark Knight," Bill Irwin, "Rachel Getting Married"; David Kross, "The Reader"
Hopefully: Tom Cruise, "Tropic Thunder"

SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Certainly: Viola Davis, "Doubt"; Penélope Cruz, "Vicky Cristina Barcelona"
Probably: Amy Adams, "Doubt"; " Taraji P. Henson, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"; Kate Winslet, "The Reader"
Maybe, but probably not: Marisa Tomei, "The Wrestler"; Rosemarie DeWitt, "Rachel Getting Married; Misty Upham, "Frozen River"
Hopefully: Hiam Abbass, "The Visitor"

Scott Feinberg at the LA Times' awards blog The Envelope reports on the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences' foreign-language short list, a group of nine films that -- once again -- leaves out a couple of the most well-received imports of the year.

Last year it was Romania's "4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days" and France's "Persepolis" that got the shaft. As the 2009 awards takes shape, covering the 2008 calendar year, the list of six films nominated by several hundred Academy members who are interested enough to screen a minimum number of the 65 eligible films, augmented by three films chosen by a new 20-member executive committee -- aka, a "panel of experts" -- still doesn't make outsiders happy. Missing is Italy's "Gomorrah" (photo above), a fact-based expose of the Mafia in Naples that has been on a number of 10-best lists (including Wesley's), won the Grand Prix at Cannes, and was nominated for a Golden Globe. A lesser-known but much-loved foreign-language contender that is off the list is "Captain Abu Raed," a heart-tugging drama that's Jordan's first-ever submission to the Oscars.

Making the list are a few high-profile titles like Golden Globe-winner "Waltz with Bashir" (opening on Friday in Boston), Turkey's Cannes hit "Three Monkeys," and France's "The Class" (also on Wesley's list and opening here in February) as well as movies that are off my radar, like Mexico's "Tear This Heart Out" and Japan's "Departures." Of the nine, five will make it to the final step when nominations are announced Jan. 22.

Feinberg, who has made a point of seeing as many of the contenders as he can this year, isn't arguing that any of the nine are unworthy movies -- just that "Gomorrah" and "Captain Abu Raed" (a personal favorite of his) are worthier and that anyone who has been paying attention would agree. I feel his pain, but I think there's a conceptual disjunct here: That the Oscars are supposed to reflect critical reality as opposed to Hollywood reality.

More than the Golden Globes -- glitzier but selected by ostensibly working journalists -- the Academy Awards are a popularity contest that serve as a core sample of AMPAS members' opinions at the time the nominations and ballots are mailed in. This jibes with show-business reality in the acting and picture categories, but in areas that require context and expertise -- the documentary and foreign-language categories most notoriously -- the Oscars can't help looking naive. To participate in the foreign-language shortlisting process, an Academy member has to watch a lot of foreign language movies (most of them at home on screeners, I'm guessing), and for that, you need time on your hands. Consequently, the nominators tend to be older voters who (again, I'm guessing) aren't as open to violence, outre sexuality, or new ways of seeing things as a younger crowd might be. At the very least, this explains why so many Holocaust movies get nominated.

Where Feinberg errs, I think, is in his insistence that the Oscars have to conform to the opinions of the critical and festival communities, who in most cases are the only people who have seen these films at this point. He's wrong: Oscar voters can do what they damn well want and, if they want to look like know-nothings, they'll suffer for it in the long run. The Academy wasn't founded back in the 1920s as an arbiter of taste but as a PR move designed to keep Washington bluenoses, state censors, and labor agitators at a safe distance: the awards thing was just window dressing. To take it as a genuine imprimatur of quality is wishful thinking at best, naive at worst.

That said, everyone knows what the words "Oscar winner for best foreign language film" mean on a newspaper ad: an audience, and often the only audience a foreign film gets in this country. In that sense, "Gomorrah" and "Captain Abu Raed" have both lost a major foothold in the US marketplace, and that's a particular shame. But it's not just the Oscar nomination process that's broken. That's just the tip of the iceberg.