Diary – 1 March 2008

We woke up early on Oscar morning to see the hills of Hollywood wreathed in fog, clouds and spitting rain. I shivered in the unseasonable freezing weather. ‘Should be fun on the red carpet this afternoon,’ I said to Percy. Turning on E! channel at 10 a.m. we watched presenters and starlets in strapless gown with goose-pimpled arms talking to various purveyors of footwear and jewels to the stars. Then some young chefs suggested what they would have served at the Governor’s Ball after the event if Wolfgang Puck (the Austrian celebrity chef) hadn’t made the cut. This broadcast was interspersed with non-stop coverage of past Oscar carpet arrivals, clips from nominated movies and a million interviews with every Tom, Dick and Harriet involved in preparing the red carpet, including the man who was trying to wring the water out of it.

This dragged on until 3 p.m. when the ABC coverage began and the stars started to arrive at the Kodak Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. Because of the weather, the red carpet was under a clear plastic tent so when the sun came out at 4.30 p.m., the stars started to look somewhat sweaty. The least important usually arrive first so it was surprising to see George Clooney and his new girlfriend there so early. He was as suave and urbane as ever as he quipped about his chances of winning best actor: ‘I’m Hillary Clinton to Daniel Day-Lewis’s Barack Obama.’ It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that George Clooney could be president one day, as rumour hath it. He’s certainly the most popular actor in Hollywood right now and there actually seems to be more interest here in the Oscars than in the presidential race. Few seem passionate about any candidate. Mr McCain has just been accused of adultery (sound familiar?) and he really needs to do something about his pallor.