What people will remember from this brain-numbing Oscars is how terrible its hosts were. It wasn't exactly James Franco and Anne Hathaway's full fault - let's blame those who thought of hiring them. (ouch)
Hathaway did her part, trying to be chirpy and upbeat and changing into gowns on time. But Franco had the aura of a person who wanted desperately not to be there in any capacity, who had considered the material and thought if he squinted his eyes nearly shut, he would disappear from the embarrassment of being unable to host.
It was easy to say a guy who made his name with a stoner character might be stoned at the event. But there could be any number of reasons he slurred some lines, stumbled over others, muttered still others and, in the end, couldn't quite remember which picture had just been named best (it was "The King's Speech," James). (I had forgotten about this -- but yes, in fact, he couldn't remember who won from 3 minutes earlier)
Perhaps the dude did party too much after winning an Independent Spirit award for "127 Hours," on Saturday. On Sunday 127 hours only seemed like the perceived length of the interminable event.
Later, it seemed Franco, didn't even want to participate. So Hathaway did a solo number that singled out Hugh Jackman, who at least was a much better host.