It wasn't the worst Oscars ever, but it may have been the most disappointing.
For months, we've been promised that the new producer duo of Shankman and Mechanic were ready to revolutionize the Academy Awards, to shake things up so that the viewer exodus would halt. ABC's promos promised: "You've never seen Oscar like this."
They lied.
Fact is, we have seen Oscar like this before. Many times. Mostly during the 1980s and early '90s.
Instead of establishing some new paradigm for awards shows, Oscar 2010 was in many ways like an Academy Awards show from the past -- complete with lame dance numbers, awkward host banter and jokes so corny and predictable, you'd think they were written by Bruce Vilanch.
Oh, wait: Vilanch actually was, once again, a writer for the Oscars.
The fact that Shankman and Mechanic couldn't even see fit to dump Vilanch and his tired schtick is one big reason why this year's show was more retread than revolutionary.
But it was hardly the only problem of the night.
Let's start with Baldwin and Martin. They were perfectly acceptable hosts: Charming, respectful and sometimes quick on their feet. They have nothing to be embarrassed about, and that's no small accomplishment for such a high-risk gig.
But if your goal is to Reinvent Oscar, you don't ask two very conventional Hollywood insiders to host -- and then saddle them with groan-inducing jokes even Jay Leno would roll his eyes at.
After the open, we thought we were going to like the old school vibe of the monologue (or is it duo-logue?) As the night wore on, however it became just plain old.
Sure, a taped parody of "Paranormal Activity" featuring Martin and Baldwin was sly and funny. But it was the exception, with most of the "Odd Couple"-themed banter falling flat (a Snuggie sight gag, guys? Really?)
It says something, and nothing positive, when a promo for "Modern Family" is far funnier than anything scripted during the entire Oscar show. Steve McPherson ought to demand that Steve Levitan, Chris Lloyd and their "Modern Family" crew be put in charge of writing the 2011 show.
If the hosts were ultimately irrelevant -- not to mentioned upstaged by scene-stealer Neil Patrick Harris and his opening production number -- they at least didn't make you actively want to hate them.
The same cannot be said of Hamish Hamilton, the British video director who was brought in to liven up the look of the show. The only thing noticeable about his direction was how awful it was, and how often it failed to capture the moment.
When Kathryn Bigelow won for Best Director, the whole world (well, those of us in Hollywood or who read the tabloid press) was waiting to see how she and James Cameron would interact. We saw him right behind her, but just as it seemed the two might connect-- cut to a random wide shot!
The in memoriam tribute began with Patrick Swayze, but only the most eagle-eyed home viewers saw that.
