I'd (sob) just like to thank ...

by TERI FITSELL

It's glitz, glamour, posh frocks, cheesy dance numbers, shameless expense - and a complete lack of sincerity.

Yes, it's Oscar time again. The night when Tinseltown ODs on sparkle, kitsch and big gowns, and all in the name of giving itself one almighty pat on the back.

As Truman Capote put it: "The Academy Awards is all politics and sentiment, nothing to do with merit."

Yet it's almost impossible to resist watching. As usual I'll spend Monday avoiding the radio and TV so I don't hear who wins until the whole overblown extravaganza is televised (TV2 9.30 pm).

Then I'll be glued to all that feigned modesty, the "I'm happy just to be nominated" speeches on the way into the theatre. Plus all that fake sincerity - those desperately fixed smiles as the camera closes in on the five candidates, four of whom won't win.

It's cruel, but it's morbidly fascinating. And in our household it is a much anticipated opportunity for furious last-minute side-bets and lots of cheering or booing the television set.

But why is it that year in and year out the one part of Hollywood's big night out that is never fascinating is the acceptance speeches?

An anecdote has it that way back in 1960, Michael Wilding picked up his son Chris from former wife Liz Taylor just before she headed for the Oscar ceremony where she was up for Best Actress for her performance in Butterfield 8.

The 7-year-old was sitting in the back of the car holding up a Coke bottle and pretending to cry. When Wilding asked what he was doing, Chris said: "I'm Mummy collecting my Oscar, and I have to look as if I'm crying."

Last year - that's 29 years on - nothing had changed. Gwyneth Paltrow applied the often-used insincerity principle to her overlong blub-fest when accepting the Oscar for Best Actress for her performance in Shakespeare in Love.

True, some winners have managed to accept with aplomb - Jack Nicholson, Jack Palance and Juliette Binoche being examples. And when Tom Hanks thanked his gay schoolteacher when accepting for Philadelphia in 1994, the speech became the inspiration for the Kevin Kline movie In and Out. The schoolteacher didn't have an inkling of what Hanks was about to say, and his family was even more surprised to hear it.

But most winners are barely coherent.

It's odd that the studios spend squillions on advertising to push their nominees, and designers fall over themselves to dress them in ridiculously expensive gowns.

And makeup manufacturers charge the earth. Paltrow's bill last year from Max Factor was rumoured to be $10,000.

Yet everyone's happy to let them think up, or rather blurt out, their own speeches.

You would think some clued-up studio head would have the top scriptwriters working overtime, penning a pithy, yet humble, 60-second (maximum) thank-you speech chock-full of quotable quotes for the papers the next day.

Failing that, the Oscar format should be changed so that anyone who gives a bad acceptance speech must hand the statuette back. Hence, Paltrow would be Oscar-less on the grounds of Total Sincerity Valve Failure, as would Sally Field for her infamous, "You like me, you really like me," sob back in 1984.

Instant Oscar removal would also apply to anyone simply reciting a long list of names that no one else has ever heard of - and who were no doubt mentioned on the film credits anyway.

Anyone who starts spouting, "I'm the king of the world" nonsense like Titanic director James Cameron would also lose the prize.

Here's a better idea. Continue to choose the nominees on the basis of their film performance, then have each give an emotional yet sincere acceptance speech. Then give the Oscar to the best-delivered speech.

It would even be possible to add a touch of Whose Line is it Anyway to the proceedings, where actors must deliver their speech in a style of the academy's choosing. A Victorian melodrama or an episode of Star Trek, for example.

Or how about this? In extreme sob-prone cases - like Tom Hanks, who's blubbed twice - a silent movie would be ideal. Okay, so he's an artistic sensitive type, but come on.

At least some of the glitterati know what Oscar night's really about. One of those is Warren Beatty, who'll be collecting a Lifetime Achievement award. As he said at the Oscars in 1976: "We want to thank all of you for watching us congratulate ourselves tonight."

Live coverage with Herald Online

Join us for all the results from the Academy Awards, beginning 2pm Monday March 27 (NZT).