LOS ANGELES, CA - JUNE 28: Rappers DJ Paul (L) and Juicy J of the group Three 6 Mafia arrive at the 2009 BET Awards.
Oh, what a lovely day. Can you feel it? Can you smell it in the air? Can you feel the sun shining on your face? Oh, I can, my friends. I have that luminescent, post-love affair glow on my cheeks. And I owe it all to Oscar producers Bill Mechanic and Adam Shankman, who have decided to abandon having all Best Song nominees perform at this year’s Oscars. From Deadline.com:
Oscarcast executive producers Adam Shankman and Bill Mechanic have dropped a bombshell, telling artists nominated for Best Original Song that they won’t be invited to perform the usual big production number. The decision has hit a sour note for the nominated performers.
Well, tough luck for you, nominees, because I don’t care. For years and years and years, this stupid category has held the Oscar telecast hostage. Want to know why the Oscars go into overtime every freaking year? Because of the Best Song performances. Between introducing the performers and then allowing them to drone on and on with their terrible songs you’ve never heard, the Oscars waste at least half an hour of your precious time every spring. The last truly big-time song to win a Best Song Oscar was “Lose Yourself” by Eminem, and Eminem didn’t even bother to show up and perform it.
No other Oscar category gets such a disproportionate amount of attention. It’s Best Song. No one cares. Yet Oscars producers, in the past, have happily wasted eons of time letting the nominees in that category perform, only to cram in all the GOOD awards, like Actor, Actress, Picture, and Director, all into a 15-minute awardgy at the end of the show. It was completely imbalanced, and finally Shankman and Mechanic have had the brains to go and do something about it.
This is glorious news, Oscar viewers. You should have an extra glass of wine and pint of Haagen Daaz for the evening just to celebrate it. No more Beyonce singing four songs she didn’t have anything to do with. No more songs from animated films you wish you could get out of your head but can’t. No more Randy Newman. No more awkward duets. No more five-minute segments where the Oscars suddenly morph into the bastard child of the Grammys. That won’t be happening this year, and that is awesome.
That you, Adam Shankman and Bill Mechanic. Thank you thank you thank you. Now please, don’t bring Rob Lowe and Snow White into the cold opening.