THE OSCAR SNORE

What everybody is saying about Sunday night's Oscar show is true. Have you ever seen a duller one? We knew we were in for a long evening when the opening number was a never-ending showcase for Billy Crystal's mediocre song-and-dance talent instead of a stand-up spritz of fabulous zingers.

When the most interesting guy on stage turned out to be Blake Edwards, the 81-year-old recipient of an honorary award for career achievement, you knew it wasn't just the sedate glamour of the gowns that turned back the clock. And when the same guy provided the show's funniest moment by skidding across the stage in a wheelchair and crashing through a wall, you were grateful for the joke.

The most candid remark of the evening came from Errol Morris, who shared the Oscar for best documentary feature with Michael Williams for "The Fog of War," a portrait of Robert S. McNamara, the U.S. Secretary of Defense during the Vietnam War. Morris said he thought the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences would never recognize his films. He also offered the evening's best acceptance speech.

"Forty years ago," he said, "this country went down a rabbit hole in Vietnam and millions died. I fear we're going down a rabbit hole once again. And if people can stop and think and reflect on some of the ideas and issues in this movie, perhaps I've done some damn good here."

Had you stayed awake long enough to see Sean Penn accept the Oscar for best actor, you would have heard a passing reference to his trips to Iraq: "If there's one thing that actors know, other than that there weren't any WMDs -- it's that there is no such thing as best in acting." Except for Morris and Penn -- and Tim Robbins, who made a pro bono reference to victims of abuse and violence -- the show's escape into fantasy was pretty much complete, not even counting the Oscars for "The Lord of the Rings."