Last night, I watched the Oscars and a Tony telecast broke out.
That being said, for the most part, I liked the irony-free, “let’s put on a show!” vibe of the broadcast. The fact that we had a “song and dance man” as our host—not a snarky political quipster or a jaded late night comedian—was kinda refreshing.
The first production number, with its charming homemade sets, got things off on to a promising start. (And Anne Hathaway: Who knew?)
But the Vegas-tastic Beyonce/Zac Efron/Mamma Mia number, with the top hats and the bedazzled, Rockette-style dancers, was so random. I mean, do we really need to hear excerpts from Grease, like, ever?
Here’s a funny thing about the telecast: Even though it felt so corny and old-fashioned, it was also rather slyly forward-thinking. Somebody finally noticed that the staid and formal Oscars are out of step with our Twitter-y times. So the accounting firm of Pricewaterhouse Cooper was not trotted out for our approval and the MPAA president didn’t get to make a long, gassy speech—he...