n the all-female apartment where I watched the Oscars, Gael Garcia Bernal got the most cheers. Not his gentle anti-war sentiments - "If Frida Kahlo were alive today, she would be with us, against the war" - but just him, beautiful Gael, the star of Y Tu Mama Tambien and Amores Perros.
"I'd do anything to look like this guy," said Steve Martin when he introduced Bernal, "except exercise and eat right."
When Bernal took the stage, a contagion of shrieks and sighs rippled across the apartment couches.
"I remember when he was on the telenovelas as a kid," says Liz, who is visiting from LA. "Even then, when he was 13, he was so cute, all the women were crazy for him."
Michael Moore got a healthy round of cheers from us, too. Generally I'm against such grandstanding at the Oscars, but if Michael Moore hadn't said what he did - "Shame on you, Mr. Bush!" - we'd all be saying he sold out. He's Michael Moore. What do you expect? Good for him.
My favorite speech came from Adrien Brody, an actor I have always liked (Summer of Sam, Liberty Heights), although I have yet to see The Pianist. His speech hit just the right notes of humility and excitement, remorse for the war and support of those fighting it.
As the evening wore on, something like three-and-a-half hours long, a few of my viewing companions grew weary.
"How many categories are left?"
"I don't think I can watch anymore."
"So how many awards has Chicago won?"
But Julie and I just smiled and shrugged and sat tight. The Oscars don't bore us. We're suckers for this thing.