Solar-filtering safety glasses be damned.
Oscars parties are an annual tradition where people who have maybe seen one “important” movie around Christmas get together, gawk at pretty dresses and say the sentence, “I’ve never even heard of that movie!” about six dozen times. Often, there is themed food, prediction contests and a general sentiment that no one cares who wins.
Except, one person always does. Far too much. And too often, that person is the emotionally unstable awards guru throwing the party.
Want to be that breathtakingly obnoxious Oscar party host? Here are some tips to throwing a truly shitty Oscar party where no one, least of all you, has any fun whatsoever.
Start at 2:30 P.M.
As soon as Giuliana Rancic, Ross the Intern and Kelly Osbourne take to the red carpet, that’s when the party/torture should begin. What better way to prepare for a four-hour awards ceremony than sitting through five hours of giddy E! correspondents examining Jessica Chastain’s statement brooch with their 360-degree fashion cam? Oscar parties should be longer than a day at work and feel like work the entire time.
Quickly Decide Something About Fashion, Act Like You’ve Had That Opinion All Along
As soon as you see two of something on the red carpet, decided that it’s a Thing and that you’ve been aware of the popularity of this Thing since the beginning of time. Long-sleeved Easter-colored dresses? Of course they’re all the rage now, didn’t you hear? BLACKANDWHITEBLACKANDWHITEBLACKANDWHITE. Did you just see Olivia Munn AND Jennifer Lawrence with a clamshell clutch purse? You guys, I don’t know if you knew this, because you all dress like homeless sailboat captains, but clamshell clutch purses are SO A THING RIGHT NOW.
Prepare Movie-Themed Food Doesn’t Actually Make Any Logical Sense
- Gravity Gravy
- 12 Ears a Corn
- Dallas Buyers Club Sandwich
- American Hustle General Tso’s Chicken from that Place Around the Corner. No, the Other Place.
- Her… Bag of Funyuns. Because Joaquin Phoenix looked like he had “fun” making the movie Her.
- Frozen Dinners. For the movie Frozen. Get it?!
Have Prediction Contest, Passive-Aggressively Mock Your Guests’ Choices
Wait. Oh my God. Do you seriously think Judi Dench is going to win Best Actress for Philomena? Are you for real, Nancy?
Do you even know how to read a blog? (Angry laughter.) You realize Dame Judi just lost the BAFTA award and the Screen Actor’s Guild Award to Cate Blanchett for Blue Jasmine, who is CLEARLY going to win. (More angry laughter.) What, you picked her because “you liked her in Mrs. Henderson Presents”? Nancy, get the f*ck out of my house. Get your coat, get your purse that is NOT a clamshell clutch, and get. The. F*ck. Out.
Constantly. People loved to be shushed. Especially when watching millionaires present golden phalluses to other millionaires. And ESPECIALLY during the documentary short and live-action short categories. Shush the shit out of them.
After June Squibb Loses, Become a Monster
When 84-year-old Nebraska star June Squibb loses the Best Supporting Actress Oscar to either Jennifer Lawrence in American Hustle or Lupita N’yongo, it is your duty to completely implode as a human being.
Scream, curse, throw something at the TV. Talk loudly through Jennifer/Lupita’s speech, say that their dress is ugly, tear up when you recall how June Squibb’s portrayal of that elderly Montana woman travelling to Nebraska hit close to home because of that one time you went to Nebraska and saw an old woman that looked like she could be from Montana.
If Nancy brings up that June Squibb lost the BAFTA and Screen Actor’s Guild Award, morph into a flaming dragon and eat her. Also, who let Nancy back in?
Sob Uncontrollably When Idina Menzel Performs “Let it Go”
Let it goooo! Let it gooooooo! Can’t hold it back anymooore!
Yes, you should be jumping and dancing around your living room at this point. Also, when it’s over, say this exact sentence: “You know what I’m NOT going to let go of? The fact that June Squibb lost.” Resume monster behavior.
When It’s Finally Over, Cheerfully Declare How Much Fun You Had
To an empty room, because all your friends left after the first commercial break, because you are terrible. Don’t worry, you can console yourself with all your leftovers.
Mmm. Gravity Gravy.
John Loos is a Chicago-based writer and actor who has performed with The Second City at Sea and recently joined the faculty of The Second City Writing Program. He’s an ensemble member of GayCo Productions and performs in the two-man sketch and improv duo Pinque Pony. He can be tweeted @johnlooswins.